John Friday: Raped and kidnapped brides

"You mean at Mirror Lake? Where I'm supposed to be with Dawn tonight?"

"Where better?"

Rob walked up to them then and said, "Hey, Tom… I know we're part of the same family and all that. But I don't like the way you're dry-fucking my mother-in-law on the dance floor."

"Why not, because you'd rather be doing it? I saw you before. I'm surprised you kept your cock in your pants."

"Boys, boys, let's all try to get along. There's plenty for both of you. We can all go…"

"Go? Go where?" Rob asked.

"Up to a little honeymoon cottage on Mirror Lake. I hate to think about two handsome young men being all alone on their wedding night."

"Are-are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm telling you. I'll fuck you both and make you forget you ever had young wives."

"Oooh, Jesus!" Rob sighed.

"Is that, ooh, Jesus, yes? Or, ooh, Jesus, no?"

"Yes, I guess. What the hell?"

Dawn ran out of the woods and along the sandy lake shore. Her long white veil and silky, strawberry-blonde hair streamed behind. She'd lost one high heeled shoe and so was off balance, tripping and stumbling. Finally she was forced to stop when she ran out of breath.

Colette had told her to run, but not where or why. Then it all came flashing back to her. The stark terror of being kidnapped, the humiliation of being fondled so roughly by a strange man with large hands. She shuddered and wailed an anguished cry.

Cole and Frank were close enough to hear her. Both born and raised in rural hill country, they were good trackers. But Cole stopped short as soon as he saw her. "Oooh, shit!" he said. "We got trouble."

Dawn was talking with two uniformed security guards hired to patrol the property and insure the privacy of honeymooning couples.

Frank thought quickly and said, "Follow my lead, little brother."

They walked tight up to the guards, noticing they both wore guns. Frank said, "Officers, I'm so glad you found her. My wife had a little too much to drink at our wedding reception, and she wandered off when we got here."

"This lady says she was kidnapped," one of the guards said.

"And brought to a cottage that we reserved weeks ago?" Frank asked with a raised eyebrow. "That's ridiculous."

Frank's formal uniform did look something like what a bridegroom might wear.

"Who are you?" he asked Cole.

Cole remembered the name of Colette's groom from the story in the paper and he said it. "I married her cousin today. A big double wedding in town."

"Oh, yeah. I remember reading about that," the second guard said.

"They're both lying," Dawn cried. "They're going to rape me!"

The guards exchanged curious glances. "Lady, would you please keep your voice down? You're disturbing our other guests."

She hissed in soft fury, "They are going to rape me on my wedding night. They're raping my cousin right now!"

"They are? They're standing right here."

"There's another one," she moaned. "Sure, lady. Every guy brings a friend along on his honeymoon."

"She gets confused," Frank said with an innocent grin. "She's never gotten this drunk before. She's never gotten anything before, if you know what I mean."

"I understand, sir. You wouldn't believe some of the stories we could tell you about young brides."

"Just try to keep her quiet," the second guard said.

"Don't worry, you won't hear another peep out of us," Frank said. "Not for a week at least."

"A week?" Dawn sobbed desperately. The guards just shrugged and went on their way. Private security services are not privy to police radio broadcasts, and the ring of high mountains surrounding Mirror Lake effectively blocked commercial radio and TV signals. No one at Mirror Lake knew the two brides had been kidnapped. And who would have suspected when they were right where they were supposed to be?

Colette lay gasping with a silly little gun on her lips. Jesse untied her wrists and rolled her face down on the bed, working on her knotted veil.

"Thank you," she said as it loosened and she could work her chafed wrists free.

"Just don't do anything with your hands that I don't like," he warned.

"Ungh, I won't." Colette rubbed and stretched her fingers. He stood watching her, smiling and thinking what a marvelous, sexy young minx she was.

"What's your real name?" she asked.

"I told you, it's Jesse James." It really was too, though no relation to the famous outlaw. His father admired the bandit king so he'd named his sons after the famous brothers and Cole Younger.

"That's ridiculous," Colette said.

He shrugged and said, "I know." Nobody ever believed his name was Jesse James. That made it an effective alias. "If you've got the feeling back in your fingers, how'd you like to play with my big cock?"

"I'd love to!" Colette grinned warmly. "Will you take the chain off my neck too?"

A devious twinkle in Colette's eyes betrayed her.

"Not yet," he said. "I don't trust you completely."

She stroked his cock fondly, making it pulse with lewd vigor again. "What more do I have to do?"

"Fuck my two brothers," he said.

"But I only want to fuck you, Jesse. Your cock is so big and beautiful." She pumped it aching hard with teasing finger strokes.

"So is Frank's. And Cole's cock is bigger still."

"I don't want them to fuck me. I want to be your woman, Jesse. I want to spend my whole honeymoon fucking you!"

"Yeah, but I want to fuck your cousin and suck her luscious big tits."

"Oooh," she moaned sadly. "I'm a better piece of ass than she'll ever be. Dawn is so timid and shy."

Jesse laughed. "Now, maybe. But not when, we get through with her."

Colette purred deep in her throat, entranced by the pulsing vigor of Jesse's big cock. She loved holding it, teasing it and feeling it throb. She'd planned to fuck wildly on her wedding night, and she still wanted to.

"You've got me hot enough to fuck again," Jesse said.

"I'm ready too!" Colette sprawled on her back, pulling up her long white gown.

"Turn aver," he said roughly. "On my stomach? Why?"

"Because it's your ass I want this time."

"No!" Colette sat up and doubled her knees to her chest. "It's not big enough for a cock like yours."

"It will be," he said.

He pushed her over on her side in a heap of swirling white satin and lace. The chain locked securely around her neck clanked and pulled tight when she moved.

She gasped, clutching her throat. Jesse pushed on her upraised shoulder to get her on her face.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed. "Aaagh, you bastard! Not up my ass! Nnnooo!"

Colette whipped around and scratched for his eyes. He blocked the sweep of her claw-like hands and held her wrists.

"I warned you," he reminded her, reaching down for lengths of rope with his free hand.

"Don't tie me again, please. I hate it when I can't move."

"You'll still be able to wiggle your ass, and right now that's all that interests me!" He bound her wrists to the pillars at the head of the large bed, spreading her arms wide.

She groaned. Her shoulders felt wrenched and strained, about to snap out of their sockets. She sobbed again, kicking her feet uselessly, rustling her wrinkled white gown.

Jesse bound her ankles to the posts at the foot of the bed. She was face-down, bound and helpless in a spread-eagle position, whimpering in tormented desperation.

Jesse pulled up the back of her long gown. The flowing train involved yards of sheening white satin and delicate lace. He threw that over her back and bared her ass.

He crouched between her bound legs, long and elegant tapers strained by the pull of binding rope. The sleek muscles were all well defined, quivering with fearful expectancy.

Bending down, he kissed the taut cheeks of her ass, dragging his tongue as he moved from one side to the other. She shivered violently when his flicking tongue lightly touched the rim of her asshole.