Nathan Silvers - A librarian enslaved

As she approached the turn-off for the Bryden Ranch, Natalie Porter got more and more tense. She had no idea why these people wanted the mobile library service. She had met Roxanne Bryden in town one day and Roxanne had asked her to be sure to call. They were great supporters of the library, Roxanne said.

That wasn't what Natalie had heard. Zane Bryden was the biggest rancher around, and there were rumors that he more or less owned the local police. That didn't bother Natalie too much, she kept out of these things. It was the atmosphere at the place. And even then she couldn't put her finger on it. Just a nasty feeling. Both Zane and his son Matt had given her very suggestive looks, the sort of looks that married men were not supposed to give.

Still, she thought as she turned, under the large wooden sign and into the three-mile drive, this was her last month at the job. She should never have done anything as stupid as run right from a bad marriage to this job as librarian to hundreds of square miles of isolated houses and ranches. Driving all day, waiting in either baking heat or biting cold for people to make up their minds, then driving back. Nothing to do at night in the tiny town where she lived. Except hit the bars and Natalie wasn't into that. She had thought the solitude would do her good, but it had driven her crazy. At the end of next week, it was back to the city and some sanity.

Around her, the ranch land stretched in all directions, dry and hot in the August sun.

She pulled up to the front of the rambling ranch house and climbed out. Instantly, the two massive dogs the Brydens kept to guard the place were out, barking and snarling at her.

"Attila, Hun, down boys, down," a voice shouted and instantly the dogs dropped back, retreating to their kennels. "Hi," the voice went on. A dark-haired woman stepped out of the house and waved. It was Roxanne Bryden. "Come in," she said, "you must be fuckin' dry, this time of year."

That was two things Natalie didn't like. For a start Roxanne's language. Her husband might be rich, but she was as foul-mouthed as if she lived in some of those disgusting housing projects Natalie used to drive past, on the way to work. And then there was the way Roxanne dressed. It might be hot, but the cut-off shorts and tank top were just too revealing for Natalie. It accentuated Roxanne's large firm tits, and the rest of her curvaceous body.

"Thank you." She walked up the path, skirting the crouching dogs warily.

Little lap dogs were all right with Natalie, but these monstrous animals were terrifying. They stood as tall as her waist, their slavering jaws ready to tear an intruder's flesh instantly.

It was cool in the house, with the faint hum of air conditioning.

"Long day?" Roxanne asked, leading the way into the kitchen.

"Yes," Natalie said, "and I've got two more places to take in after this."

"Ah," Roxanne said. "Lemonade? Coke? Beer?"

"Lemonade would be nice."

She sat at the table and sipped the drink.

"They tell me you're leaving." Roxanne sat opposite Natalie and cracked open a beer.

"Yes," replied Natalie. "I'm going back to L.A.."

"Ah. Not enough action here, huh? Not much cock to go around." She laughed and Natalie blushed furiously.

Roxanne was a strikingly good-looking woman, with pale-green eyes, a straight nose and a wide sensual mouth; all set in a square, hard face. She tossed her dark hair across her shoulders, and her large tits bounced in the tank top. Her waist seemed even slimmer in contrast to those tits, and her tight swelling ass and long, lusciously curved legs added to the allure, that Natalie was sure was the main reason a rich rancher would marry her.

"Now, come on honey," said Roxanne dismissively, "that's what it's all about, getting laid, fucked, huh? No point in hanging around if you're not getting your rocks off. But hey, I mean, you're a real cute chick, you must have a lot of the guys around here creaming their jeans, to get at you."

Natalie was disgusted. She took a long drink to speed the time when she could get back out to the van and leave.

"No," she said. "What books did you want?" She looked down at the table top.

"Come on," Roxanne said. "I know what happens to chicks like you around here. Fuck, you're fighting them off with a gun."

She stared at Natalie until the poor librarian got very uncomfortable. Natalie crossed her legs under her long, loose summer dress, the faint rasp of her nylon stockings sounding in the silent room. She was indeed cute. Stunningly beautiful would have been a more accurate word. Her soft blonde hair fell in waves to her shoulders, surrounding a waif-like face, wide hazel eyes, a nose very slightly snubbed and a mouth of soft sensual outlines, the deep red lips bowing gracefully.

The rest of her was just as good, though hidden in her dress. Her young, high tits were smaller than Roxanne's, and hung on her chest with no support needed from the brass he always wore. Her tiny waist and flat stomach ran down to a tight pair of ass cheeks, and on to trim thighs above a pair of shapely calves. Even Natalie's ankles were delicious, trim and accentuated by the four-inch heels she wore.

"Yeah." Roxanne grinned. "Maybe you'd be better off in L.A. in that outfit. Fuck, you even got stockings on, girl."

"I think you should dress properly, whatever your job. Bad dressing leads to bad morals."

Roxanne roared with laughter. "Fuck," she said, "you sure think like they want ya to think." She looked past Natalie. "Ah."

There was a creak of the floorboards and Natalie turned quickly, nervously, to find two young men standing there, blocking the doorway. She knew one of them; it was Matt, Roxanne's son. The other one was even taller, his fair hair clit. Well, his strong handsome features glittering at her as he leaned against the wall. He was better proportioned than Matt, who had been lean and muscled by long years on the ranch. Also the stranger's clothes were better fitting.

"Well, hi." Roxanne got up. "This is – hey, honey, I forget your name."

"Natalie."

"This is Natalie. This is Matt. You know him and this is Lance, a college friend of Matt's."

"Hi," Natalie said. "Well, I must be moving along." She got up. "If you'd like to come to the van, we can…"

"Oh no, you're staying here for the weekend," said Roxanne.

"What?" Natalie was sure she hadn't heard right.

"Yes, I called the other ranches, said you were sick and would get there when you could. They said fine. So you're staying here the weekend."

"I'm sorry." Natalie backed towards the door. "That's very kind of you, but…"

"Oh, nothin' kind about it." Roxanne let out another laugh behind Natalie, the two men laughed too. "You see, Lance here has a real problem. He saw you and, well, creamed his jeans, like I said. And he's a real horny fucker, has to get it up some hole or other, ten, fuck, I dunno, twenty times a day. Anyway, tots of times a day. So we decided that you'd stay here for the weekend and fuck him all he wants. And us too, of course. We like to fuck too."

"What are you thinking?" Natalie gasped, her hand over her mouth. "That's… that's rape."

"Oh, lots more fun than rape," Lance said and there was such a sensuality in his voice that Natalie almost choked. These people were serious.

"You can't, I'll…" She trailed off. If it was true that the Brydens owned the police, they wouldn't help. "I have a date tonight." She sounded defiant.

Roxanne shook her head. "We do check these things out. You'd be sitting, watching television, all weekend, and we offer you unlimited sex, and you turn us down. Shame."

"Yeah, shame." Matt advanced into the room.