Chapter 8
Louie was true to his word. Sheena did become a star - or at least a
major roadside attraction - in the mountains of western North Carolina. Young
lawyers and bankers from Charlotte and football players from Knoxville came by
the carload and paid $25 a head to see "Sheena, the Jungle Queen" wrestle a
black bear from the Great Smoky Mountains. She and the bear put on a convincing
pretense of combat, and customers all agreed they had never seen a girl that
good looking - outside of the movies and the Victoria's Secret catalog.
For those willing to pay $100 and wait til after midnight, there was a
special show three times a week. Louie would dress up in a safari hunter outfit,
and Sheena, wearing a brass collar and with her wrists tied behind her, would
kneel submissively before him and give him a blow job. For $250, customers could
join in the fun. One especially busy night, a dozen men took turns fucking her
vaginally, anally and orally. When they finished, she lay on her back onstage,
exhausted and semiconscious.
"I don't know much about jungle queens," one of them drawled, dropping a
$50 bill on her semen-covered belly, "but I know a cum bucket when I see one."
Louie felt kind of bad about that, but he soon realized that Sheena got
a perverse pleasure from her degradation.
He ordered a lot of bondage and S&M gear over the Internet, and soon he
was raking in more than $5,000 a night. He had to put limits on the rough stuff,
though, after one exuberant customer tried to beat her with a chair.
Louie felt protective of her, and not just because she was his meal
ticket. He also was getting unbelievably great sex. He had never been happier in
his life.
Which made it all the more painful when she disappeared. He woke up one
morning - at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, actually - and she was gone.
So was the bear.
The sheriff's office sent over a couple of officers, and they took
Louie's report without much enthusiasm.
"Look," one of them said. "You been runnin' this one-girl cat house for
months, and we've been lookin' the other way . . . ."
"Damn right, you been lookin' the other way," said Louie. "I've been
payin' your boss two fuckin' grand a week to look the other way."
"Well," said the officer, "what are we supposed to do if she just
decided to up and leave? It's a free country. What grounds do we have to go
after her and arrest her?"
"Grounds," yelled Louie. "She stole my fuckin' bear. That's grounds
enough, ain't it?"
# # #
Louie never did find Sheena. The sheriff wasn't much help. Getting the
state police involved was out of the question. He had never paid them a dime.
Over the next few years, there were scattered reports from hikers and
hunters of a blonde woman slinking through the woods or swimming in a stream.
But no one got close enough to get a good look at her, much less catch her.
Then the sightings became rarer and ceased altogether.
Bears must have got her, some locals said. Or mountain lions, said
others. "More likely, mountain men," said one old timer. "There are some real
weird bastards livin' in those woods."
Little did he know how right he was.
THE END?
