Convict's Captive Book 3 Read online

  He tossed the cigarette out of the window and got out of the car. He slammed the door shut and walked around to the passenger side. When he opened the door, the girl jumped as if startled. He untied her feet and her neck from the head rest, unclasped her seat belt and pulled her from the car. He led her to a spot about 15’ away and told her to kneel and then put her forehead to the ground. She complied meekly.

  Her posture lifted the rear of her short denim skirt up to the top of the back of her thighs. He couldn’t resist crouching down and flipping up the skirt to get a view of her naked ass and the fleshy slit between her thighs. He rubbed his hand over her soft rear cheeks. She was a good one all right, he thought. About the best he ever had, and that said a lot. He delved his hand lower, slipping his fingers over her love lips. There was just a slight stubble and he remembered that he had forgotten to shave her there earlier today. Well, it didn’t matter now.

  He knew that he should get on with it before he lost his resolve, but the feel of her hot flesh was so delicious that he couldn’t stop caressing it. The girl shuddered and it made him think of the passion with which she had fucked him. It made his cock stir. He slipped a finger between her labial divide and felt that she had lubricated.

  He looked around again. Nobody to be seen for miles. He had about an hour and a half until dark. There was time enough for one last fuck. There would still be a residue of light with which to dig her grave. He would shoot her first though. He had promised himself that. He would make it quick and painless. She wouldn’t even have to get up from where she was kneeling now. The gun was in his pants pocket. As soon as he was finished, he would slip from her pussy, draw the gun out of his pocket and then, ‘pop!’

  He sank to his knees and maneuvered himself into position to fuck her. He reached between her legs and made her spread them wider. He lowered his fly and fished out his already stiffened cock. He crept closer to her on his knees and then ran the head of his cock along the soft line between her labia. Her pussy was hot.

  Just before he pierced her, his pants rubbed against her skin. He realized at once that it would be a better, fuller, richer experience if he could lay the front of his naked thighs against her flesh when he sank within her. He sat back and quickly unbuckled his belt and untied his boots. He kicked them off of his feet and then pulled his pants and shorts free. To make it complete, he drew off his t-shirt.

  When he turned back to the girl, he realized that what he wanted was the girl naked too. If this was the last time he fucked her, he wanted it to be as close to perfect as possible.

  He pushed the back of her skirt up to around her hips, tucking it into the rope. He then took hold of the hair behind her head and made her kneel back. He lifted the flowery, blue t-shirt up her torso and over her head. It went down as far as her elbows and no further. His knife was hooked into the belt of his pants. He took it out and cut through the fabric, halving it. Then he pushed the remnants down to her wrists.

  She was technically not completely naked, but it would do for all practical purposes. He pushed her back down so that her forehead was on the ground and then ran his hands over her wonderfully plump rear orbs and the skin of her back. Now that was better. Much better. He took his cock in his hand, pushed it along her labial lips once or twice to pick up her slick moisture and then pressed himself forward, slowly burying his cock in her crevasse until it was fully seated. He sighed with appreciation.

  When Carly felt him cut the t-shirt from her body, she knew that it was the end. His signal was clear: she would have no further use for it.

  When he had made her kneel down in the grass, she had had a glimmer of hope. When he stroked her quim, so soft and tantalizing, making her lusts rise, like he had done so many times before, her hopes had risen that she had been wrong yet again and that he wanted no more than to fuck her. Even when he had rolled up her skirt and drawn her t-shirt over her head. He wanted her naked, that’s all, or as close as he could get it with convenience. But when she felt the knife cut through the fabric, she knew that she had been right all along.

  Her stomach turned sour and her body chilled. She bit down hard on the blue rubber ball in her mouth and sobbed. She lifted her head, turning it this way and that in a desperate attempt to take a last look at the earth around her. But all she saw was darkness.

  The man was taking his time fucking her. His hands were on her hips, rubbing over them and up and down her naked back. His cock was scouring her crevasse in long, leisurely strokes. Despite her despair, his meat was having the effect on her that it always had. She tried in vain to deny it. It was so shameful to be deriving pleasure from the man who would end her days forever as soon as he was done with her. Her soft sobs began to become intermingled with soft moans and groans of passion.

  And then it struck her. Why shouldn’t she obtain delight from her last act on earth? Why shouldn’t she enjoy the fruits of ecstasy that her body could bring to her? It was the last time. The last time. And then her torment would be over. She would be rid of the man and his evil power over her forever. There had to be something better waiting for her! There had to! Why not go out in celebration of life rather than encased in dismal shame and sorrow?

  She let the feel of the man’s steel like rod traversing her fevered flesh seep into every pore of her body. “Yes! Yes!” she thought. “Yes!” She squeezed her vaginal muscles as hard as she could, seeking to maximize the friction the man’s cock was bringing her. “Yes! Do it slowly! Slowly! Slowly!” she urged him with her mind. “Take your time! Enjoy it! Drive me mad with lust! Make me come again and again! Do it! Do it!” she thought feverishly.

  The rhythm of his strokes was sending delirious messages of pleasure to her. She felt her orgasm building. She welcomed it rabidly. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhhh!” she moaned through her gagged mouth. “…esssssssssss!”

  It struck her hard. Her pussy clenched around the rigid tube inside her. It convulsed with delirious contraction after contraction. She groaned and pushed her hips back in an attempt to drive the pleasure giving cock deeper inside her. When her contractions began to fade, she began to rock back against the man, urging the wonderful feelings to return.

  Jack was relishing the girl’s passion. He felt her pussy grab him tightly again and again as she came. It was better than he had imagined, better than he remembered. It was cold even for him to be fucking a girl he was going to murder minutes later, and he knew that he would regret it, have those feelings he had about that other girl he killed return. It would haunt him all his days, but he wouldn’t have missed feeling these sensations one more time for all the world.

  He felt his orgasm rising and purposely slowed his thrusts. The girl had been fucking him back and he pressed his hands into her hips, bringing her motions to a halt. She moaned a moan of frustration. “Don’t worry, there’s more, there’s more,” he told her mentally. He reached down and took hold of her arms and lifted her up so that she was sitting on his cock. He pressed her back against his chest and ran his hands over her belly and breasts. “Ohhhhhhh, yes! Ohhhhhh, yes!” he thought. Her skin was smooth and hot. Her breasts were firm and resilient to his grasp.

  She had tilted her head back and it laid against his shoulder. Her breathing was coming hard and strong and she moaned as he caressed her. He took hold of her rock hard nipples and twisted them slowly and firmly until she screamed with lust through her gag. The heat of her body was driving him wild. He pushed her forward again.

  He placed his hands hard on her back, pinning her in place. And then he fucked her, fucked her, fucked her, as hard and as fevered as a demon. He pounded his loins into her thighs. She moaned and groaned and rocked back at him fiercely, giving as good as he gave. He felt his explosion building. He wanted it to last, but it was too late to stop. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” he called out as his meat began to throb and jerk inside her fevered tunnel. It set her off and she grunted back at him, loud and raucous. Her pussy clamped down on him again a
nd again. It was a sensation he wanted to last forever.

  But it didn’t last forever. His spasms slowed. The pleasure waned. The girl gave out a great sigh and her body relaxed, devolving into putty. He collapsed over her, his heart still thumping, his breath short and deep. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh, yesssssssssss!” he sighed softly.

  His cock detumesced quickly and slipped from her crevasse. He ran his hands down her torso and over her hips. He knew that he should be elated. He had just had one of the best fucks of his life. But a feeling of dreadful loss came over him. His body felt chilled. He knew he had to do it. He had to do it! There was no other choice! He felt back to his pants and scooped them up. He slipped the Walther out of its pocket. It felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. He slipped off the safety. He loaded a round into the chamber.

  All he had to do was place it quickly against the back of her head and pull the trigger. She wouldn’t feel a thing. It would be all over. But the thought of it filled him with a soul wrenching sorrow. He had done many horrible things in his day. This would be one of the worst. For the first time in his life he had gained a conception of what it meant to snuff out the life force of another human being. If he did it, he would be wracked with guilt and shame for the rest of his days.

  But he had to do it! What else was he supposed to do? If he put her in the trunk there was still the risk that someone would hear her moaning and groaning. Just her presence near him felt like a terrible risk. He had to gain his freedom! He had to! And she stood in the way! She had to go! She had to!

  It was then that he became conscious of her body wracking sobs. She knew what was coming. He hadn’t wanted it to be like this. It was like that girl he strangled so many years ago, the one he had been ordered to kill. Her desperate, hysterical pleas had haunted him just about every day since then, especially in stir where he could not drown it out by acts of cruelty or violence on others. He didn’t want the pair of women haunting him. He couldn’t take it. He had blown it. He should have pulled the trigger right away. Now her sobs would echo in his mind forever.

  He looked at her. Her whole body was heaving. “Awwwwww fuck!” he exclaimed to himself. He closed the safety and tossed the Walther aside.

  He rose from the girl. He fished around in his pants for his smokes and lit one up. He was a fool. He knew it. Never in his life had he allowed sentimentality to interfere with what he had to do. Something was changing in him and he was not sure that he liked it.

  He got the soda and what was left of the sandwiches and the snacks out of the car. He sat down near the girl. She was still kneeling like he left her, crouched over, her legs spread. Her sobbing had subsided some. What was he going to do with her? Now that it was clear that the FBI knew where he was going, it didn’t matter if he let her go and she was discovered. There was nothing that she could tell them that they didn’t already know. He could leave her here all tied up to a tree. It would be hours before she was able to work herself free and go for help. It would take at least an hour for her to walk out of the park they were in and she would have to do it naked and in the dark.

  But something inside him didn’t want to let her go. It was the same something that wouldn’t let him kill her. He wanted her for himself. He wanted to fuck her again and again. He wanted to own her totally and absolutely for all time. He had thought the other day about how great it would be if he could take her to Mexico with him. He would get a little place and keep her prisoner there. Maybe, after a while, she would get used to him and not want to run away. And if she didn’t or if he got tired of her, maybe he would dig her a hole out in the back where he could visit her from time to time and put flowers on her grave.

  He cursed himself for having these kinds of thoughts. There was no way he could bring her into Mexico with him. He wasn’t sure how even he was going to get over the border. He would have to leave her with the boys in Alamogordo. They would do the dirty work for him. At least then he could say that it wasn’t him personally who pulled the trigger.

  There was also the fact that if he let her go, her life would continue. She would live on to think horrible thoughts about him. She would think of him with hatred all of her days. She would tell people what an animal he was. And she would go back to that insipid boyfriend of hers. They would love each other and marry and have kids. The thought of her loving someone made him cringe with anger. He knew she would never love him. He wasn’t sure he even wanted that. He probably didn’t. But the idea of her finding solace and gentleness and fulfillment in someone else’s arms was too bitter to take.

  He was lying back on the ground looking up at the sky. The girl was where he left her. The sun had begun to sink below the horizon and the bulbous, spare clouds above were turning pinkish against a graying blue sky. The moon was actually out, about 40 degrees up in the sky in the east. There was a slight breeze, just cool enough to foretell the chilly spring night to come. He was still naked, but he had retrieved the pistol and had his clothes piled up next to him in case he needed to put them on in a hurry. He had finished off one of the two remaining peanut butter sandwiches and the rest of the chips.

  Tonight was the night. It was, by his reckoning, about a quarter after 6. It would be dark in about 20 minutes. It was about 4 hours to Tularosa, maybe a little more. He should get there by 10:30 or so, with plenty of time to spare. The problem was that if the FBI was scouting the likely places he might show up, they would be on alert for the Merc he was driving. He needed to get another car.

  He looked over at the girl. She surely couldn’t ride in the front seat with him from here on in. She would have to go in the trunk. He felt a little sorry for having to put her there, but there was nothing else to do. He also felt a little sorry that he hadn’t let her eat all day. There was one sandwich left and he didn’t need it. He decided to give it to her.

  She was lying kind of perpendicular to him near his feet. He was just able to reach her with his left foot. He raised it and gave her a little shove on her hip. “Come here,” he told her.

  Carly had been kneeling still, as still as she could be. When she had heard the sound of the bullet entering the chamber of the gun, she had bit down hard on the rubber ball in her mouth and tensed all her muscles. She was already sobbing uncontrollably. She didn’t want to be, it just came over her. Deep in her terror and misery, she kept thinking to herself, “Oh, god, don’t let it hurt! Don’t let it hurt! Don’t let it hurt!”

  When she heard the sound of the gun hitting the ground and the man’s sotto voce curse, she knew that he had changed his mind yet again. And then the crying really started. It had taken her a long time to stop. She didn’t know whether to thank God for saving her or to curse him for allowing her torment to go on. She knew that she could not go on like this. Sooner or later, she would go bizarrely mad. She had been with the man for three full days, not counting the night he had kidnapped her. And three times he had commenced the process of snuffing out her life only to pull back at the last moment.

  She realized, ironically, that her decision to let herself go and relish in what she thought would be the last bodily sensations she would experience in this life had almost certainly turned the tide. The thing that she despised herself for, her trigger like sexual response whenever he touched her, had saved her life. He was keeping her alive because the enjoyment he got from fucking her was outweighing his instinct for self-preservation.

  When her crying died down, she realized that he was lying on the grassy ground near her. He was quiet and unmoving and that suited her fine. She had no energy to do more than to remain motionless too. The sun was warm on her naked back and felt good. There was just a gentle breeze that chilled her skin as the sun waned, but, despite the slight discomfort, that felt good too. Her mind could do no more than relish the physical experience of being alive.

  She had no idea what the scenery around them was like. She knew that it was remote. The ground under her knees and forehead was soft. She imagined it as a peaceful, beautiful place. She imagined
trees and flowers and gentle rolling hills. From time to time she heard the sound of a bird’s cry and pictured it soaring above her, its wings outstretched. She didn’t know for sure where they were, but if he was going to Mexico they must be in Texas by now. She didn’t know what kind of birds they had in Texas, but she imagined something like a hawk with its mighty wings held perfectly still as it circled them scouting the ground for prey.

  If only she could fly, she would flap her wings and fly away far, far, far up into the sky where no one could touch her, no one could capture her, no one could tie her and confine her and hold her prisoner. Her hands were still tied to her sides and it was as if her wings had been clipped and she was condemned to remain as she was, grounded and at the mercy of a larger, harsher predator.

  She was startled when she felt his naked foot push at her hip and his voice command her attention. He told her to come to him. At first, she was of a mind to disobey him. “Fuck you,” she thought. “Fuck you!” But then she thought better of it. If she became too much trouble, the paradigm which kept her alive might shift. If she stopped giving him pleasure, either through his use of her body or from the satisfaction he got from controlling every move that she made, or didn’t make, it would be so much easier for him to pull the trigger next time. For despite her revulsion at being still subject to his depredations, she wanted to live.

  She rose up and shuffled on her knees until she was facing where the voice had come from. Then she shuffled towards it. She kept going until her knee bumped up against his thigh. She waited obediently for his next order.

  She felt him reach behind her head. He removed her blindfold for the first time since she had gotten into the car that morning. She looked quickly around. It was almost like she had imagined it, the crystal blue lake, the green grass, the blooming trees. And then, after only a second or two, just the maximum amount of time that she had learned he would tolerate as a delay in obedience, she directed her attention to him.