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Near dawn, he found a fair looking piece of stone and
was carefully chipping away. In an hour he had a nice blade. Not the best, but
he was in a hurry. Or rather the wolf within was. He split some long twigs of
cedar and made twine, then wove a rough basket from the twigs to make a fish
weir.
That went into a rough and tumble little creek, but he
had no faith in it, as he had nothing to lure in the trout. On the way back he
had better luck.
A winter-dulled rattler buzzed a warning, struck in
blind haste, and Benny pinned it to the earth with his boot.
He showed it to Cindy. “Breakfast.” The woman
shrank away from the squirming rattler, and his pride in his accomplishment
deflated to a dull and sullen glare.
“Hey, chill, Cindy. It don't even have a head.
See?” He showed her the raw stump of a neck, and Cindy fainted dead away.
“Well . . . hell.” His eye opened wide, and then
he laughed. “Yo, fewer asses in the stable, more corn for the rest. Hain'a,
Sara?”
Smelling the reptile, the old mare lay back her ears
and bared her teeth.
“So? I'm hungry. Ok?” Benny leered at her. “You
volunteering, maybe, lady?”
Sara decided discretion was the better part of valor.
Huh. Stupid MALES.
She stalked away to join the nervous airheads that
loved her. At least they never played with nasty things they killed. Unable to
decide if Benny was joking or serious, Sara shuddered all over.
Cindy tried to run. It was like spikes and pins as the
pain slashed through her feet. He was on her in a flash despite no food and
little rest, his weight crushing her into the rocky soil.
Benny ground her face into the soft leaf mold, his
breath harsh in her ears.
“What's the matter, Cindy?” His words grated out.
“Don't like my company no more?” He muttered a laugh that made the woman
quake. “Too bad. But I got something you killed to get.” He eased his hips
off her and shoved down his jeans. Iron hot flesh in the cold air made him
shiver.
“See?” Benny prodded her buttocks. Cindy gave a
low moan through the gag, and Benny rolled her over. Her eyes flicked down. She
whimpered, then turned away against the fist in her hair.
“Hey, bitch. Look at me when I'm talking to you.
Dammit. Look-at-me.”
Her eyes cringed from his. Benny licked her lips.
“Tell me something, lady. Did you show my guards the
disks of Carl, where your C/Os made him whore like a pig? Did you, Cindy?” The
fist tightened in her hair. Benny could feel tiny flicks where the fine strands
snapped off. “Did you, bitch?” he ask, choking on the words and on the tears
that no longer came since Carl's murder by the Mohawk-Buu.
A faint sprinkling of dirt moved near them. The horses
shied, moved off. They scented something unholy, something that hungered. Only
Sara stood her ground. The headless rattler eased into an S coil.
“Hey, bitch,” he whispered. “Did you fuck some
dude's brains out and drink that expensive wine you love when you watched them?
Did you, Cindy?” He pressed his forehead against the quivering mounds of her
breasts and shuddered. “God, but I want to kill you. Kill you dead, Cindy. I
want to gut you and watch the ants feeding on your eyeballs; I hate you so much.
Bitch. Filthy using bitch. God,” his voice broke in a sob, “but I hate you,
Cindy.”
She whimpered and closed her eyes. Benny dragged her
head up, hissed, “Watch me. Look. At. Me.” He shook her head and a hank of
bloody hair came out by its roots.
Seeing the blood, the terror in her eyes, Benny jerked
open the robe. He touched her breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples until
she arched in pain. Moisture seeped out of them. Benny scowled in the dim
lighting and tasted, hoping for blood.
“Milk?” He spat on the ground near her face. Benny
froze. His kid? “Milk?” The word was soft, kind, not an insult in tone.
“Is this what you want now, Cindy?” he ask and his
lips brushed hers. He reached down and forced a dirty finger sticky with the
rattler's blood in her dry passage. She rolled under him, trying to escape the
punishing fingers. His laughter was colder than snow in her ears.
Even the expert, well-trained gigolo Benny was
couldn't lift her fear. She squirmed, grunting protest at his mouth on her face,
her breasts, her belly and her womanhood.
Benny raised himself above her and leered down.
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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