Exploration (Grandma knows best)
"Stay away from the mine, never go there!"
Maria laces her boots, her mother's voice echoing in her thoughts. She laughs,
stands, pegging her shorts high on her slender, tanned thighs. At fourteen,
she's old enough to scoff at the old legends, the ghost stories, but still young
enough to want to explore, be thrilled by her own fear. Her mom is so old
fashioned, so-so old country, clinging to myths of monsters and hungry,
flesh-eating ghouls. But not Maria. Maria is smarter than that. She grabs her
pack, hefts it onto one shoulder, heads down the stairs, her shiny black hair
fluttering in pretty curls around her full, sweet face. With mom in Denver
visiting her sick aunt, this will be the weekend she and her friends explore the
old Espectros Blancos mine. Carrie, Mena, and Mena's older brother Bobbie plan
on spending the whole weekend exploring the old adits and drifts, seeking
ghosts, or, barring that, the long fabled gold of the white ghosts. "El oro de
los Espectros Blancos," her mother would say in a quivering voice. Maria laughs
again, bounds across the front lawn, her sweet, round breasts bouncing under her
white tank top as she climbs into the cab of Bobbie's truck, tosses her pack in
the back. "Did you remember the munchies?" Mena nods, points toward the back
as Maria pulls her door shut.
Bobbie glances over, his deep brown eyes traveling over Maria's petite, firm
body, lingering on her breasts, round, pink nipples visible under the thin cloth
of her top. He grins at the tingle at the base of his thick cock, catches her
noting his gaze. He winks, pulls away from the curb, smiling at her girlish
giggle. A whole weekend surrounded with girls-awash in girls. He laughs to
himself, scooches slightly to give his growing tool more room. Two tents--one
night with one girl, one night with the other. If he plays it right, his little
sister will never suspect. Eyes sliding to Mena's long legs, her large breasts,
he nods imperceptibly-maybe keeping little sis in the dark isn't the way he
wants to play it after all. He jerks the wheel, skids onto the dirt track
leading toward the mountains, imagines telling his friends he's had a triple
cherry busting weekend. He speeds up, eager to reach the mine. At nineteen,
the coming weekend will be a coup of epic proportions for him-he couldn't give
two shits about ghosts and gold. He's got his own treasure to mine. He laughs
louder, grins spreading. This is going to be a weekend to remember.
The girls squeal, point as they reach the summit of the steep grade, the
dilapidated mine shacks rising into view atop another rise. They chatter
excitedly about the weekend to come. The truck rolls to a slow stop before the
blast house, the road petering away.
"We'll have to park here," Bobbies voice is low, husky, his cock now so rigid he
wonders if it's safe to stand.
"That's okay, we can hike our stuff in closer!" Maria leaps from the cab,
reaching in back for her pack.
Bobbie trudges behind the giggling girls, glowering. They have their packs.
Funny how he wound up with his pack, the tents, and his sister's sleeping bag in
addition to his own. The cooler is still in the truck, as are Maria's and
Carrie's sleeping bags. No doubt he'll have to make that trip. He consoles
himself with visions of all three girls naked, vulnerable, taking whatever he
chooses to give.
Maria lets out a whooping cry, slides her pack from her slim shoulders, racing
toward the adit. She rushes to the entrance, pauses, eyes widening, She looks
back, her face alight with a giant, almost frightening smile, then darts into
the darkness, her footfalls echoing in the deep drift.
"Maria? MARIA!" Bobbie shouts, drops his load, sprinting toward the adit.
"Maria, get out of there NOW!" He peers into the darkness, hears her laughing,
the sound growing distant. He whirls, leaps to his pack, digging for a
flashlight. Rushing back, he turns to the other two girls, growls, "Just stay
the fuck here, okay? STAY HERE!" With a frustrated shout he disappears into
the darkness.
Maria's pace slows, then nearly stops as the light slowly disappears behind her.
She runs her hands along the rough wall, her breath coming in short, winded
gasps. She shakes her head, a smile still wide on her face. Why did she run in
here? She doesn't know, the thought, the undeniable urge filled her. Even now
she refuses to turn back, instead working her way inexorably deeper, her dark
eyes wide in the black. The drift becomes suddenly cold, a sharp gust of air
lifting her black curls, raising gooseflesh on her bare arms. She shivers,
tilts her head, listening. A voice? Yes, a voice, low, soothing, enticing.
She shudders, tells herself that there must be a shaft to the surface nearby,
the sound a trick of the wind. Continuing to creep forward, she ignores
Bobbie's calls, approaches the tempting, maddening voice.
Carrie and Mena sit on their packs, like night and day, Carrie's sunny blonde
head bending close to Mena's dark. They stare at the adit, listening to
Bobbie's voice fade as he follows Maria deeper.
"Why did she do that?" Carrie's voice is low, caught between concern and anger.
"Maybe she saw a ghost." Mena whispers, her fingers working nervously at the
leg of her shorts.
"A ghost?" Carrie scoffs, rolling her eyes. "And she just decided to chase it
into the mine?"
"Maybe she was possessed." Mena's voice is shaking, near tears as she looks up
fearfully.
"Mena, you don't really believe this shit, do you? It's just stories."
"Abuela says---"
"Oh, God, Mena-she's what? 142 years old? She's a superstitious old women,
doesn't even speak English-it's just bullshit stories, okay?"
Maria gasps, her foot striking something, sending it rolling, rattling. She
drops, her hands skittering across the cool dirt floor, bumping past, then
returning to the round object. Her fingers explore, passing over, feeling-then
dropping with a sharp cry. A skull. She tripped on a human skull. She shakes
her head hard, blinking in the dark, returning to her senses. What was she
thinking? She could have fallen into a shaft a thousand feet deep! She rises,
biting her lip as she feels for the wall. Another sharp gust of cold air, and a
sudden, icy weight on her shoulders, driving her down to her knees. The
pressure increases, she whines, falling backwards, air crushed from her lungs by
a frigid, roiling mist as she squirms helplessly on the rough dirt floor,
slender brown arms and legs scraping painfully back and forth as she feels her
shirt hiking up over her pert, firm breasts, her shorts sliding down over her
slim, curved hips. She whimpers breathlessly, soft brown eyes huge, staring
into the blackness as the cold weight over her seems to coalesce, take shape.
Bobbie pauses, breathing hard, the beam from his flashlight skipping across the
freshly disturbed dirt. "Maria? Maria?" He forges ahead, muttering, "You'd
better be worth it, bitch." He smiles grimly, imagines her under him, eyes
wide, teary as he fills her. She'll be worth it, he thinks. Oh, yes.
Carrie grabs Mena's arm, jerks her back. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm going in after them." Mena is trembling, terrified.
"My ass-we're staying put."
"What if-what if something happened, what if they need help?"
"And how much help are you going to be in the dark? Bobbie has the flashlight?"
Carrie curves an around Mena's shoulders, sits her back down. "Bobbie will find
her, he'll bring her back out, okay?"
Mena nods miserably, her dark eyes fixed on the now sinister-looking adit.
"Okay."
Maria sobs voicelessly, her breasts squeezed, mauled, her legs pulled wide as
something cold, cruel pushes along her thigh, rubs roughly between her soft
pussy lips before punching up, shredding her hymen as it fills her completely.
She whines high, wrists pressed painfully into the dirt, eyes giant, terrified
in the dark. Her slim hips buck, jerk, her back arching up as the violent
thrusting begins. She grunts with each punishing stroke, her mouth hanging
open, pathetic, gasping whimpers forced out as her body is shaken, scraped
across the rough floor with each ripping thrust.
Bobbie stops, listens closely. Breathing, labored, gasping. And crying? Is
she hurt? "Maria? Maria, here I come!" He rounds a gentle curve, his
flashlight skipping over her, then returning. "What the . . ." He stops hard,
stares. Her body moves, hips thrusting down into the hard floor over and over,
her back arching, mouth moving as she gasps, whimpers. His eyes fix on her
young pussy, open, inviting, quivering with each jerk, each grind of her hips.
Her pretty breasts bounce, jiggle, her arms and legs spread wide, shorts hanging
from one ankle as she writhes sexily. Moaning, Bobbie breaks into a run, one
hand tearing at his buttons as the beam from the flashlight dances crazily in
the narrow shaft. He drops to his knees beside her, the flashlight spinning,
then coming to rest as he drops it mindlessly. He stares hungrily at her young,
sweet body, bucking, moving, so enticing. She's having a seizure or something,
he thinks-her eyes are glassy, dull, her lips hanging open, body shaking, moving
to a furious rhythm. He moans, shoves his jeans down around his knees as he
moves to mount her, pausing for only a moment as she jerks hard, then falls
limp, stops moving. Grabbing her shockingly cold breasts, he squeezes, bends to
nip, suck as his stiff cock slams home hard. Bobbie gasps at the icy cold of
her wet cunt, but doesn't miss a beat, begins plunging wildly into her,
thrilling to her soft, helpless cries.
"I know-let's set up the tents, surprise Bobbie!" Carrie's voice is high,
falsely cheerful, her blue eyes dark with concern. "Come on, imagine how happy
he'll be he doesn't have to do it!" She takes Mena's fretting hands, pulls her
to her feet. "And then we can go down and get the cooler, drag it up!" She
prods Mena along, grabbing the first rolled tent, unclasping then unfurling.
"Come on, grab the other end, help me get it unrolled straight." She bites her
lip, watches Mena bend numbly, grasping the edges to pull them taut. She looks
at her watch, then back at the dark, forbidding mine entrance before returning
to the task at hand.
Maria whines, a small pathetic sound, her eyes blinking, darting jerkily as
Bobbie heaves enthusiastically above her, his thick cock pumping hard into her
tight, bruised pussy. The warmth of his rod, his hands, his hot breath on her
chest is shocking, rousing, her gaze settling on Bobbie's dark, distant
expression, his body heat a strangely welcome relief from the icy cold that came
before. She shivers violently, her now freed arms rising weakly, wrapping around
his neck, pulling him closer for warmth even as she sobs in pain, fear, numb
confusion. Bobbie moans, nuzzles into her neck, his thrusts becoming uneven,
jerking as his cock swells inside her, his cum spurting hot and thick inside her
aching pussy, filling her even as he continues thrusting, fucking it deep.
The cold mist hovers, undulates, hanging silent over the scene, savoring the
sharp, coursing energy the stupid girl's body has given it. It took hungrily,
but gave also. It is satisfied after long, long waiting, its icy seed deep in
the young, accepting womb. It observes the greedy boy heaving over her, taking
cruel advantage of her helplessness, her shock. It doesn't care, its interest
is distant, almost amused-it has hoed its row, finally serving the perpetual,
instinctual need to propagate. So many years it has been trapped here, waiting.
It has what it needs now, what it requires to move beyond the confines of the
deep drift. Not far beyond, not yet, but there are other girls close by, it can
sense them, their soft, pliant flesh, their fresh innocence, their warm, fertile
wombs. It begins to float slowly along the ceiling, sliding toward the adit,
venturing now where it has been unable for so long.
Bobbie groans, rolls off Maria, smiling as her hands clasp around his neck, a
desperate whine coming from her trembling lips. He mistakes her need for warmth
as confirmed consent, desire. Laughing, he sits up, prying her hands from his
neck. "Mmm, yeah, baby, you were great." He looks at her splayed legs, her
thighs wet with cum, blood. He pulls off his dark shirt, wipes her thighs as
she moans softly. He cleans her for his benefit, not hers-he can't bring her
out looking like she's been fucked. He grins at her moaning, leans up to knead
one of her breasts, "Damn, baby, you are insatiable." He laughs, pulls his
shirt back on. "Later, baby, there'll be more where that came from later." He
buttons his jeans, motions to her to get dressed. He waits, then sighs
impatiently, "Come ON, get dressed!"
Maria walks unsteadily, leaning heavily against Bobbie as she staggers unevenly.
She stares blankly, shivering, her mind a haze as she struggles to remember what
happened. Something. Something happened, she knows. Her pussy is raw, aching,
her breasts sore and tender. Bobbie's arm is strong around her, warm. She
whimpers, blinking hard as they approach the growing light. Bobbie smiles,
bolsters her up as they exit the drift, squinting hard in the angry red glare of
late afternoon's sun.
"She's okay, she's okay!" Bobbie lowers Maria to the ground as Carrie and Mena
crowd in.
"What's wrong with her? Maria?" Carrie's hands stroke Maria's dirty, tear
streaked face. "Maria?"
"She fell down," Bobbie's voice is smooth, convincing, "I think the air down
there is bad or something, it was really cold, and I found her laying in the
dirt."
"Ohh, poor baby, come here." Carrie embraces Maria, noticing how cold she is.
She rubs Maria's dusty, scraped arms, kisses her head gently.
"It was cold?" Mena's dark eyes are wide, her lips trembling. "Abuela says
that when it gets real cold, ghosts-"
"Oh, shut up, Mena." Bobbie growls, goose flesh rising despite his outward
disdain. "I was there, okay? No fucking ghosts, just cold, the air is stale."
Mena sits, watches as Maria drifts, chest rising and falling softly. The light
is fading, and with it the heat of the day fleeing. She leans forward, peers
through the tent flaps, down the darkening trail. Both Carrie and Mena had
tried to convince Maria to let them take her home, but she had been adamant, if
shaky. Bobbie had been silent, strangely unsupportive of the idea. He and
Carrie were on their way to the truck now, fetching the last of their gear.
Mena leans back into the tent, the gaping maw of the adit much too close for her
comfort.
Bobbie lags, watches Carrie's long legs picking out the trail in the failing
light. Her hips twitch, ass shaking enticingly as she hikes on, unaware of his
attention. He thinks of Maria, her small body, so cold, bucking, moving in the
dirt of the drift. He shakes his head-maybe there IS a ghost, but so what? No
ghost here, just he and Carrie, alone. He grins, speeds up, his cock stiffening
with each eager step.
"Bobbie?" Mena leans from the tent, her voice soft, quavering. "B-Bobbie,
Carrie, that you?" She steps from the tent, closing the flap behind her as she
looks around. A sudden, chill blast of wind in the growing dark and she gasps,
steps back, her feet tangling. She tumbles to her back, her eyes growing wide
at the strange mist growing above her. Like fog, but limited, and so cold. She
squeals in dawning comprehension, twists on her belly, dragging herself to all
fours as she struggles to rise. A sharp blow between her shoulder blades sends
her face grinding into the rough ground, holding her cruelly in an icy grasp.
She gasps, hands clawing at the rocky earth beneath her as the mist seems to
gather, roiling, contracting even as it envelops her. Her t-shirt slides up,
agonizing cold spreading, kneading her breasts as her shorts are jerked down
hard. She cries out, a muffled, choked sound, dirt and fine, sharp gravel
finding her mouth. Harsh cold between her slim legs, her pussy lips parted as
she whines, squirms helplessly. A sharp thrust, and she screams miserably, the
pain overwhelming as her virginity is ripped from her. Her hands pull, dig
frantically, her sweet, round hips bucking, twitching as a hard, punishing
rhythm sets up. She grunts, whimpers, her face scraping painfully across the
sharp rocks with each cruel thrust.
"Here, let me get that." Bobbie smiles, leans past Carrie, his body pressed
against her back, ass. He moans, his hands rising, covering her breasts as his
hips begin grinding against her. He feels her stiffen, gasp under him. He
laughs, head dipping to kiss her neck, bite softly. She stands, paralyzed for a
moment as one of his hands drops between her legs, begins rubbing. Dragging in
a sharp breath, she shoves backwards, shouting, her hands grabbing at his,
pulling.
"You fucker, you fucker!" She thrashes violently, slamming her head back into
his chest. "Let me go, you shit!" She twists hard, slipping from his grasp,
backing away as she glares, enraged, frightened.
"Come on, Carrie, don't be a prude-you know you want it." Bobbie's voice is
soft, cajoling, his eyes wide, dark with desire. "I see how you look at me,
check me out." He takes a step forward, stops as she matches with a step back.
"Don't be a prick tease, Carrie, nobody likes a prick tease-I'm doing you a
favor here."
"A favor? A FAVOR?" Carrie shakes her head, laughs, still panting from her
struggle to escape his grasp. "You self impressed, stupid fuck-do us both a
favor and DIE!"
"Frigid cunt." Bobbie turns, begins walking back up the trail.
"Hey-HEY, what about the stuff?"
"Carry it yourself, bitch." Bobbie continues on, disappearing into the
darkness.
Mena stares blankly, her body rocking violently, tears flowing down her dusty,
scratched cheeks. She shivers uncontrollably, her sweet lips parted, grunts,
thick whines forced out with each brutal stroke. Her back is arched hard, ass
up high, breasts crushed into the sharp gravel. Her small hands clench tightly,
fists filled with rocks and dry, sandy soil. She moans stupidly as the thing
inside her begins to swell, the thrusts becoming fast, frantic. Her body is
jerked back, impaled fully as an explosion of agonizing cold fills her, flooding
her bruised pussy, freezing the flesh on her trembling thighs as it runs down.
Her mouth opens wide in a horrified, voiceless scream as the thrusting
continues, the burning cold spreading into her young, fertile uterus.
Bobbie clears the rise, his eyes narrow, angry as he approaches the camp. He
stops, sucks air in sharply between his clenched teeth. What? Is that Maria
again? He speeds up, eyes widening as he approaches-not Maria, Mena. Mena on
her knees, face in the dirt, hips rocking back and forth. He dashes toward her,
then stops. Her eyes roll up painfully, pleading even as she is slammed forward
again and again. Bobbie watches, fascinated, incredibly aroused, his cock
spectacularly erect behind the buttons of his jeans. He takes a deep breath,
pops open his fly, pulling his tool out as he stares at her slack lips, her
stunned expression. She groans, falls forward as if dropped, her hips crunching
the gravel under her as her legs splay wide. Bobbie gasps, jerks his
head-something, something out of the corner of his eye. He shakes his head,
peering into the night, sees nothing. Nodding, he walks around, kneels between
her bare, scratched legs. "Shhh," he soothes as he guides his cock to her open,
soaked hole, "shhhh, Bobbie's here, baby, Bobbie's here." With a low growl he
pushes in, shudders-cold, like ice. Like Maria. He shakes the thought from his
head, his hot, stiff tool filling her bruised pussy, hands digging under her to
find her scraped, aching breasts. Mena whines under his weight, but her
struggles have ceased, the pain of his fevered thrusts lost in the relief of his
covering warmth. She lies limp, boneless, whimpering as he pumps hard, fast,
her eyes glassy, empty.
Carrie mutters angrily, tears rising in her eyes as she shifts hands, drops a
sleeping bag as she struggles to haul the cooler up the steep hill. "Bastard,
fucking prick!" She stops, drops the cooler handle. "Fuck it-Mena can come
help me." She hikes on, still dragging the bags. Reaching the crest of the
hill, she stops, eyes widening in shock, then horror as her mind denies, then
concedes. Bobbie is raping Mena. Carrie's hand flies to her mouth, she stands
frozen for a moment before letting out a wild shout, dashing across the rough
landscape.
Bobbie looks up, his eyes glazed, smoky as he thrusts mercilessly into his baby
sister's battered pussy. He hears Carrie, sees her, begins pumping harder,
faster, ignoring the rising whines, grunts from Mena's prone form. With a harsh
cry he slams in deep, holds, his cock exploding, spitting waves of thick, hot
spunk into her torn hole. He resumes his thrusting, Mena's spasming cunt
milking him, dragging a second, then third wave from him. He pulls back just as
Carrie's raised fist flies, misses him by inches. He laughs, a cruel, harsh
sound, grabs her wrist, twisting hard. Carrie screams, the sharp snap of bone
giving deafening to her. She stumbles, falls to her knees, struggling to
relieve the pressure on her ruined wrist. Bobbie leans in, his face a mask of
insane rage as he clenches his fist, begins raining blows down on her upturned
face, her head, all the while twisting her wrist relentlessly. Carrie's
struggles wane, a weak, pitiful moan coming from her smashed lips as her head
hangs, blood flowing from her mouth and nose. Bobbie tangles a hand in her
hair, releasing her wrist as he drags her toward the packs, throws her down on
her back, head hanging back. She grunts, moves weakly, one eye swelling shut as
the other rolls, moves jerkily. Crouching before her, her yanks her arms over
her head, then drops, knees grinding into her forearms. His face pulled back in
terrifying smile, he grasps his still wet cock, grinds a thumb into her face,
forcing her mouth wide. He pushes in, a small voice in his head protesting,
horrified by his actions. He brushes it aside, eyes dark, murky as his hips
begin to move.
The pale mist floats slowly over the dust and rocks, like an isolated patch of
ground fog. It contracts, then swells, watching the boy's thrusting into the
helpless girl's bloodied face. It considers, curious, not comprehending why.
That is the hole for food, not procreation. Its curiosity is a distant thing,
vague, not truly concerned, for it never was human, it never had a body like the
boy's. That the girl is helpless, her legs open, only thin cotton shorts
between it and her womb-that concerns it. It swells further, becoming denser as
it begins moving purposefully toward her weakly struggling form.
Maria moans, her eyes fluttering in the dark of the tent. She is curled tight,
knees drawn up, arms hugging her belly. She was dreaming. She shakes her head,
tears fresh on her full cheeks. She was having a baby. Alone, she was alone in
the dream, lying in the dirt, her body wracked by agonizing contractions. The
helpless, undeniable urge to push and she was bearing down, screaming hoarsely
as her body strained to birth her child. A warm, wet rush, relief coursed
through her as the small, squalling babe was expelled into the dust. She
struggled to sit up, to pull the babe to her breast, but she was paralyzed,
unable to move, her legs wide, blood soaking the earth beneath her. Her eyes
stared down between her thighs as the baby squirmed over her mound, tiny body
twisting, writhing onto her belly. Her dark eyes widened, lips drew back in a
shrill, horrified scream as the baby lifted its head, eyes huge, glowing red,
maw wide, full of sharp, jagged fangs. It launched itself up her belly,
slobbering hungrily. Maria sits up, crying softly as the terrifying dream
reverberates in her head. Bobbie. She remembers now-Bobbie on her, in her,
laughing as he raped her. She can't grasp what came before, but she remembers
him hurting her, using her. She whines, torn-leave the tent, confront Bobbie?
Or stay here, warm, wait for the others? She buries her head in her hands,
rocks softly.
Carrie groans thickly, then gags, her lips stretched wide over Bobbie's rapidly
thickening rod. Her hands jerk, trembling fingers stretching helplessly. She
stares, vision of his thighs, his balls blurred, doubled as her head is jerked
down, opening her throat to his raping cock. She arches weakly as his meat
fills her constricting throat, his balls slapping her broken nose, her swelling
eyelids. She feels his hands, rough, cruel, yanking her shirt up over her
breasts, then attacking, mauling her soft, lovely globes. Her legs move,
jerking, feet scraping across the rough ground as her mind plods dully,
considering only escape, escape. A thick, miserable whine escapes her battered
nose, tears stinging on her rent flesh.
Mena whimpers, her eyes staring in dull, mindless horror as Bobbie thrusts hard,
fast, slamming his full length into Carrie's trapped face. She moans, struggles
to pull herself to all fours, but flops back down, too weak, too stunned to do
more than watch helplessly. Her belly hurts low, deep, the cold burn still
torturing her as her overwhelmed mind grapples with the image before her. Her
fingers twitch, tapping the ground, her slim hips still moving slightly in
memory of her cruel use.
Bobbie moans, then pauses, his cock buried deep in Carrie's tortured throat.
His eyes widen, following the strange vapor sliding smoothly across the rocky
terrain. He begins moving again, but slowly, distracted. The mist moves
closer, stretching, rolling, tentatively licking at Carrie's feet before gliding
up, enveloping her weakly struggling body. Her body forced down, Bobbie feels
her hot breath crushed from her in a whining sigh as her the flesh on her belly
distorts, her shorts sliding roughly over her hips, down her pale, trembling
legs. Her thighs jerk wide, and then her body is slammed up, her face pressed
hard against Bobbie as a thick, pained grunt is forced from her nose. Bobbie
feels the cold spreading over his hands, jerks them back hard. Eyes huge even
as his hips continue thrusting slowly, evenly. He watches, fascinated,
terrified, wildly aroused as Carrie's slim body is slammed up again and again,
faint smears of blood appearing on her bruising thighs. He takes a deep breath,
then resumes his pace, slamming down as Carrie's body is thrust up toward him.
A strange smile plays around his lips, he laughs low-Mena was right. There are
ghosts.
Carrie whines through her bleeding nose, her toes twitching, fingers curling,
the only movement she's capable of. The icy, stabbing pain in her virgin pussy
is agonizing, horrifying, her mind darkening with denial as she is buffeted
between, cunt and throat used mercilessly. Friends, Bobbie must have friends
who've arrived. It can't be anything else. Please, please, it can't be. She
grunts as the pumping of her bleeding cunt becomes frenzied, lifting her hips,
tossing her back against Bobbie, driving his cock full into her throat. She
whimpers, her vision fading as she feels an agonizing, icy wave flooding her
pussy, pumping up deep inside her womb. A low groan escapes her as
consciousness fades, her last perception that of a thickening in her throat, a
hot, sour rush of spunk in her mouth.
Maria pulls the tent flap open, her huge, dark eyes darting, then locking on the
hideous scene before her. She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth, biting back
a scream. She shudders, then stiffens, horror replaced by rage on her drawn,
tired face. Her fingers skitter across the dirt, seeking, then finding. She
lifts the mallet, still on the ground from the pounding of the tent stakes. Her
eyes lock on Bobbie, his thrusting, his wide, hateful grin, the deep moan, then
laugh as his hips jerk, twitch. She shifts her gaze for a moment to Carrie,
confused by her jerking, the rhythmic shift of her hips. Shaking her head,
Maria creeps unsteadily from the tent, mallet gripped tightly. She moves behind
Bobbie, raises the mallet, pauses as Carrie falls limp, a strange steam seeming
to rise from her, floating slowly away into the dark. Shaking her head, she
takes a deep, whining breath, brings the mallet crashing down on Bobbie's skull
with an audible crunch.
******************************Epilogue*****************************
The girls descend the courthouse stairs carefully, laboriously, their swollen
bellies swaying their backs, making their steps clumsy, almost comical. Maria's
trial is over, her actions found justifiable in the death of Bobbie Gallegos.
They pile into Bobbie's truck, Carrie, freshly licensed, climbing behind the
wheel with some difficulty. The girls sit in the truck, silent. Mena finally
speaks, her voice small, cracking. "It's time." She moans, clasps her belly,
her eyes wide, fearful. "Oh, no, no--it's time." The other nod, none, not even
Mena, knowing what it means, only that it is. The urge, the undeniable
compulsion has been building slowly over the past nine months, but has now hit a
fevered pitch, and they are helpless to resist it. No amount of therapy, no
amount of deep, desperate concentration, introspection has brought their
memories back. But even so, they must return to the mine. They have no choice.
Carrie pulls smoothly away from the curb, a sharp, stabbing pain in her belly
driving a small, thin cry from her trembling lips as she grasps the wheel hard.
Maria grunts, doubles over, thick, cold wet spreading under her. They don't
speak, the silence only broken by sharp moans, pained whimpers. The truck
slows, bounces to a stop at the base of the steep hill. The girls quail,
whining like terrified animals as they climb slowly from the cab, begin the
arduous hike. Mena is the first to fall, her eyes staring, blank, mouth
hanging slack as she begins to crawl up the hill, her hanging belly coursing,
muscles contracting rhythmically as she whimpers, whines. Soon all three are
crawling slowly, bodies wracked, helpless to stop the terrible inexorable
process. They achieve the crest of the hill, eyes locked stupidly on the dark,
yawning mouth of the mine. Slowly, painfully they move towards it, flanks
rippling, contracting as they finally disappear into the dark, their moans and
cries echoing off the rough walls of the deep drift.
