Jon Reskind - The abducted wife

"Now that's more like it," Josh leered and stood back watching as the curvaceous young girl's fingers moved reluctantly from button to button down the front of her dress, a stoic expression on her face. The soiled cotton that molded itself tightly around her full curving figure eased slowly open, revealing a tanned and creamy line of flesh. Josh grunted to himself as the skimpy bra of her bikini swim suit appeared. The cups seemed to barely cover her ripe swelling breasts and squashed them together in a lush line of deep cleavage.

"That's real nice. Just as much as Peggy but a little firmer," Josh chortled lewdly and rubbed his hands together, then winked at the other men. Suddenly his hands reached out to the front of her bra and ripped it off in an impatient gesture.

Jane shuddered with embarrassment and humiliation as her slightly swaying breasts popped out through the opened front of her dress. A sidelong glance toward Buck told her that even he, under the influence of whisky, was enjoying her disrobing in front of the obscenely panting Josh who stood only a few feet away from her. Buck's eyes had filmed over and one hand slid unconsciously deeper in his pocket toward his bulging groin while Jane inched the top of her opened dress off her shoulders. Josh made another of his obscenely unintelligible whimpers when the falling dress caught at her hips and swathed itself deep below her firmly curving abdomen like the draping on a statue of a Greek Goddess.

Suddenly a sharp rifle crack from outside the shack broke the stillness. Another loud report echoed in the yard and Josh and Buck leapt to the door, hurling it open and lunging outside. It was all unclear when Jane tried to remember it later, but she recalled Silas backing through the door carrying an aimed rifle. He was followed by Josh and Buck dragging in her husband who writhed and twisted angrily between them.

Buck kicked the gun into the corner and Jane fell back onto the bed as the group of men, with her wildly resisting husband in the center, moved from the door to the center of the room. She cringed against the mattress in utter terror and shame, realizing that her worst fears had come true: oh God, poor Bob had discovered her in this degrading predicament and now he was trapped in the surrounding huddle of mountain men like a wild bull in the center of a bee hive. She cringed as far back into the corner as she could while the group bucked and churned from one end of the room to the other, trying to escape the flurry of unrecognizable arms and fists that flailed through the air like spokes on an insane windmill. A glimpse of Bob's tortured young face flashed by for an instant: his features were contorted with murderous rage and he looked like a man gone mad; then, he brought himself to his feet and broke through the ring of men with a flash of energy that only extreme emotion can bring. He focussed his insane fury on Josh, coiling himself up and throwing himself at the enormous man who fell spread-eagled on the floor beneath him.

"Silas! Git him, Silas!" Buck jumped back, his voice quivering in sudden fear as the husband fell over Josh.

Silas leapt across the floor and jumped insect-like onto Bob's back, his long wiry fingers wrapped around Bob's throat like a child working putty. But Bob's fists continued to thrash at the hated figure still pinned helplessly beneath him as though destroying this red-haired stranger meant more to him then life itself. His fists thrashed against the soft flabby flesh of the man's face until Josh's head reverberated in loud thuds against the floorboards. He continued to swing wildly but with ever increasing slowness as the pressure of Silas' fingers on his neck began to take effect, and with one final thrust that connected with the floor, he slumped to the side. Silas beamed with evil sadistic pleasure at what he had done until Josh's voice from the bottom of the heap broke the long silence.

"Git off a me, you idiot! Stand up, you fool!" he sputtered until Silas drew himself up.

Josh was obviously shaken; he pulled himself upright and wobbled across the room to the table on shaking legs. He leaned against the table and breathed heavily, then reached for the bottle, tilting it for a moment that seemed to last forever. Silas cringed in fear back to a corner. It seemed to be not without good reason when Josh drained the last drops and suddenly hurled the empty bottle across the room at him, where it struck between his legs against the wall, shattering instantaneously into a thousand pieces. But Jane hardly noticed in her anxiety over the slumped form of her husband on the floor. She ceased to think at all while she studied his corpse-like form, then tears began to spill down her cheeks as she caught the movement of his back and the assurance that he was still breathing.

"You Goddam city bitch," Josh's voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts and she turned to see Josh heading toward her figure twisted on the bed into the corner, his face contorted wildly as he found a new target for his anger.

"I don't want to cause you no trouble," he mimicked her high-pitched voice. "Can you give me something to eat?"

"Well, you'll get something real good to eat now."

And with one long fell swoop he tore off the entire front of her dress.

"Please no," Jane pleaded, her hands reaching for shreds of cloth and trying to cover her large breasts. "Not in front of my husband."

"Your husband ain't got nothin' to do with it," Josh hurled, his knees shoving painfully against her calves as he stood over her. She tried pulling her legs up but he thrust harder against their softly trembling fullness.

"We gonna teach you and our hero here a little lesson you'll never forget."

Jane looked across the room at her husband lying sprawled out on the floor. Buck stood over him, his legs widespread and his thumbs hooked in his denim pockets, while Silas hung tensely behind, a crazed animal anticipating its kill. A strained silence reigned in the room. Unearthly shadows from the fireplace flickered up the rough-hewn walls giving the cabin an infernal look, and the thick blanket of darkness outside seemed to weigh down on the shack, pressing its inhabitants into a fateful knot.

"Wake up Buster down there," Josh directed Buck. "He gotta have a birdeye's view of the proceedin's."

Before Buck had a chance to reach over and seize Bob, Jane's husband was up on his feet, arms flailing and legs kicking furiously against the man. The two men spun around thrashing into one another for an instant, but in a moment Bob was subdued by the superior force of Buck and Silas, and Josh ordered him tied to a chair and dragged into the center of the room.

"Now ya go pullin' any more games like that'n on us and we's gonna lose our sweet patience," Josh said sternly, wiping the perspiration from his brow. "I got some questions t'ask ya before we begin. Like, did'ja call the law, and how long ya been runnin' around out here?"

Bob turned his head away from the looming form of Josh. His face registered no emotion and his bound hands clenched into tight fists that pressed tensely against the chair. "I-I don't have anything to say," he spat out.

"Ya here that, Buck," Josh howled to the smaller man standing behind Jane's husband. "Wonderboy ain't talking."

Josh crossed the floor and looked down at Jane. "Now them's some of the nicest pair a' dove-white titties a body's ever laid eyes on."

The burly man reached down and thrust one hairy hand over the ripe quivering fullness of one of Jane's firmly uplifting breasts. She wrenched back only to be caught by his other hand that shot out and caught her around the neck.

"Ya know, it appears she ain't entirely warmed up yet," Josh said, ignoring Bob's renewed shouts. Then he raised another half-full bottle of whisky that was miraculously unspilled from the scuffle and pressed it brutally against Jane's lips. "Drink!" he commanded.