Mistress Carla - The slaves of Carla

"Nope," the girl answered. "They live in a dorm and the phone was busy every time I tried to call. I finally decided to hell with it, that I'd just go." Actually, she went on to explain, she hadn't decided to make the trip until late the evening before, when she'd learned that her boyfriend was going to go on a road trip with the football team after all. "See," she explained, "he had problems with his knee and they weren't sure if it was going to be recovered enough for him to play or not. But it is, so he went with the team. That's when I decided to take off."

"Oh?" Carl asked, although he didn't really care, "Is he a star?"

"Not really," the sexily built redhead replied. "He's a second-string receiver. But he's only a sophomore," she was quick to add in his defense, "and they've got two guys that're seniors on the squad. He's ahead of a couple of guys that're juniors this year," she continued, as if she were proud of his achievements.

"Yeah?" Carl said in response to her enthusiastic gushing. "He must be pretty good with his hands." He leered slightly as she caught the double entendre in his words and actually blushed a little. I'll bet he is good with his hands, Carl though to himself as he let his skitter over the abundant mounds of the redhead's tits, with a pair of knockers like that to work on, anybody would be good with their hands.

He reached out and detached the CB microphone from the clip on the dash. "Let me tell the chick up ahead that's been running interference for me that I'm not going to be watching the road behind her," he suggested. Quickly he alerted Carla as to the route he was going to be taking as far as the redhead was concerned. It would take her within a few miles of her destination and she gave a sigh and settled back comfortably, under the impression that she would be seeing her friends in a little over three hours if all went well.

"I'm Kevin," he announced, after they'd covered about 20 miles. It was actually his middle name, but no one ever used it.

"Hi," the redhead said, grinning at him, "I'm Wendy Hiller. You go to school?"

"Naw," he answered. "I used to, but I couldn't decide what I wanted to do, so I dropped out until I could pick something. I couldn't see any sense in taking a bunch of subjects I might not need later on."

"I guess I've always known what I wanted to do," Wendy said. "I'm majoring in fashion design. I already made costumes for a band," she added proudly.

"You get high?" was his next question. She nodded so enthusiastically that it started her spectacular tits to jiggle again. Carl told her to look in the glove compartment. There, in a small metal box, were half a dozen already rolled joints of highly potent marijuana. It was a good thing Wendy turned on, because it would make it easier for him to carry out the plan he and Carla had concocted as they ate a leisurely lunch at home before they'd left on their journey to locate another victim to subject to her cruel desires.

When the joint was too short to hold, Wendy popped it into her mouth. "Go ahead, light another," Carl suggested. Wendy needed no more encouragement than that. By the time they'd smoked the second joint, Carl's mouth was dry and he was sure that Wendy's was, too. "Gotta make a rest stop," he announced as he cut over to the slow lane and pulled off into a roadside. "You like a soda of some kind?"

"Yeah, that'd be super," Wendy replied. "Some sort of diet drink if they have it."

Luckily, they did. And, by the time Wendy returned to the van, Carl had opened the can and dumped the contents of a pill into it. It was a harmless sleeping pill, but it would knock Wendy out for several hours, keeping her unconscious for more than the time he'd need to get her to the house.

To Carl's delight, the girl practically drained the can in one gulp. "That's super grass," she murmured, "really gave me a case of cotton-mouth."

"Most good grass does," Carl agreed, stealing another glance at her tits. This time he was a little more open about it, but it didn't seem to bother Wendy. Of course, Carl figured to himself, she's probably used to people looking at her. Put together the way she is, she'd have to be used to being looked at.

The truth of the matter was that Wendy hadn't always been put together the way she is. In fact, as she'd started her senior year in high school, she'd been almost flat as a board. But she had blossomed that year until she'd had the biggest set of tits of any of the girls in her graduating class. As she had grown, she'd begun to get used to the attention men had started paying her. And she'd spent the summer working as a flag-person on a highway construction job, dressing in even more abbreviated costumes that she was wearing at the moment, because she'd discovered she liked having men stare at her only half-concealed tits.

The van cruised smoothly down the road. Before long, as the drug started taking effect, Wendy yawned. "Golly," she mumbled in apology, "I don't know why I'm so sleepy all of a sudden. But I can't seem to keep my eyes open."

"Crawl in the back and flake out," Carl advised. "There's a mattress back there."

"You sure you won't mind?" the teenager asked.

"Naw, go ahead," Carl replied. With a grateful smile, Wendy did as he'd bid her. Within moments, her chest was rising and falling steadily in the rhythm of sleep.

Carl shot her a glance in the rearview mirror and gulped as he saw that her legs were parted to such a degree that one of her cuntlips had escaped from under the narrow crotchband of her shorts. Ohhhh, baby, am I gonna have fun with you, he thought. The idea excited him so much that he reached down and rubbed his hand along the stiffening rod of his cock. I can hardly wait until I'm somewhere that I can pull off the road without being bothered, he said to himself. But I'm going to fuck that sweet little thing good as soon as we're somewhere that no one's going to disturb me. That Wendy would sleep through the fuck he was going to give her didn't disturb Carl at all. The first piece of ass the callous young man had ever gotten had been from a girl that'd been so drunk that she'd laid across a picnic table in a secluded part of a state park and puked all the while he'd thrust his cock in and out of her cunt. Apparently, the girl hadn't ever realized she was being fucked, so upset had her system been because of the amount of alcohol he'd slipped into her drinks. Towards the end of the evening, Carl had been barely coloring the vodka with cola and the girl had continued to toss down the drinks as if they were nothing but soda.

He and Carla had decided that he'd get off the interstate as soon as he could after their victim was asleep. Then by driving over back roads, he could make sure that no one was following him. Not that they thought anyone would. Why should they? People gave hitchhikers rides every day without anyone getting suspicious as to what else the drive might have planned for the person who'd been picked up. Thus, as Wendy lay on her back asleep, Carl drove at a slower than normal pace, to allow anyone behind him who might have seen Wendy get in the van at the rest stop time to get ahead of them.

If he'd known what was going on in Wendy's mind, he might have driven faster, for the girl was thinking about sex and her body was reacting to her thoughts.

Thinking about sex wasn't unusual for Wendy. It was something she's been curious about for a long time. Because of her slim, titless body, she hadn't dated much at all until college because guys didn't want to go out with a girl that had nothing for them to fondle. And, when her tits had started developing almost over night, it had taken Wendy a little while to get used to the fact that guys suddenly began becoming interested in her. It was also a little disconcerting that gyres that hadn't bothered to return her hellos a few months earlier were now calling her on the phone and trying to get her to go out with them.