Malory (Love Binge Book 1) Read online

  “Okay, okay. Just put that thing away, please,” unzipping my jeans.

  He held the wheel at twelve o’clock with his left hand and held his friend glued to me with the other while maintaining eighty down the interstate. Who knew when a sudden bump might upset his trigger finger? I imagined my brains splattered against the passenger window and got started pulling off my jeans. I tossed them back onto the straw. Pulled off my tank top and did the same with it. At least it was cooler in the stifling heat. Despite my fear of what he might do, I actually felt a tingle of excitement in my loins. I sat back, gun at my head, hoping this would satisfy him, gazing straight ahead, out at the steadily streaming white dashed lines as they flew by.

  “Bra and panties, too.”

  I reluctantly obeyed, throwing them back with my other clothes and then covered my breasts and pussy with my arms and hands. I was trembling all over and sweating. My pussy started to get moist. I needed to think quick to get out of this. But, my mind was ruled by a war of fear and desire. Talk to him. Do something.

  “Open your mouth.”

  “What? No.”

  “Do it, This here trigger has a five pound pull and I got about three on it right now. Mr. 44 Magnum says open your mouth or your brains go blewy. Do it now.”

  I slowly lowered my jaw. Those bugs buzzing in my head all of the sudden started flying around the cab making the world fuzzy. Don’t black out. Keep your head. You can get through this.

  “Now suck on my friend good and deep,” shoving the cold hard barrel into my mouth. It knocked against my teeth making me cringe. It gouged the roof of my mouth and felt oily and bitter to my tongue. It tasted like it had been recently fired. As he kept zooming along at eighty miles per he mouth fucked me with the gun. I saw him as an extremely bad, over-the-edge version of Christ. If I was to make it through this ordeal I had to be more bad-ass than he was. If his mother could control him then I could. But what was it that gave a tough mother that kind of power? I don’t know. These men are governed by sex. I crave sex. Maybe if I just unleash my inner sex bitch….I imagined the gun in my mouth to be Duwayne’s cock. I scooted a little closer to him.

  “That’s the spirit,” he smiled.

  I wrapped my full voluptuous lips around its cold smooth steel shaft, caressed it with my tongue, building up saliva letting it leak out and slide down the barrel, dripping off in long streamers onto his leg.

  “That’s what I like,” an evil twinkle in his eyes.

  I saw his cock grow under his jeans and I reached over with my left hand and grabbed his balls and squeezed hard. He grunted his approval. I had to be a ball crusher to make it out of this.

  “You got spunk, sis. I like that.”

  Then, just when I thought things were going my way, I saw something that made my bladder release. The hammer at the back end of the gun barrel was slowly pulling back and, at the same time, the gun cylinder was slowly revolving. His trigger finger was very gradually applying more pressure. My God, it looked like it was up to four pounds. One bump in the road and my brains would be on the window. My pee squirted out over the seat and floor. The hammer stopped moving… it suddenly fell forward making a sharp metallic “CLICK”.

  Nothing.

  The chamber was empty.

  Oh, God.

  “Hahahah. You should see the look on your face. You like my little game of pussy roulette?”

  I gave him a look that could kill.

  “Yeah, that’s right. There’s one lucky bullet somewhere in this gun. But nobody knows where it is. You have just reduced the odds to one in five,” pulling Mr. Magnum out of my mouth and setting it on the dash. This was my chance.

  “Well, then, this is where the game gets exciting, doesn’t it?” petting his huge left thigh with my left hand. “I want you to fuck my pussy with Mr. Magnum. But first….” reaching for the gun lightning fast, with my right hand, I jammed it into his crotch. He grunted but smiled at this new twist. “Your turn to play, brother. Both hands on the wheel or Mr. Happy goes bye bye.” He complied. “That’s right, now floor this beast. I want to see how fast it’ll go. Do it or I pull the trigger.”

  “I do declare, I like your style, Malory,” putting the pedal to the metal. The pickup growled and lurched forward, the speedometer needle climbing over ninety. “You learn this from mom?”

  “You could say that. Keep that speed up. You top out and I’ll pull this trigger and you kiss your balls goodbye.”

  “Then we both die.”

  “You only live once.”

  The needle was vibrating madly, just like the rest of the truck. It stopped moving at one-oh-one. I pulled the trigger.

  CLICK.

  Empty chamber.

  “Yeeee-haaaa. That was exciting. You almost made me cum, sis,” taking an exit ramp off the interstate and turning onto a two-lane black top. Farmers were harvesting their wheat fields filling the hot air with golden chaff dust. “This is fun. Your turn. Odds down to one in four.”

  About a mile down the road he turned off onto a gravel road and followed it to an abandoned farmhouse. It was sitting all alone with just a couple old elm trees to keep it company. There was no one around for miles - just the distant drone of the harvesters. Duwayne pulled up to the abandoned house and killed the engine. He grabbed the gun, unlocked my door and got out. I was really feeling horny, stepping outside into the open wild all barefoot and naked. My pussy felt on fire. I ran around, jumped into Duwayne’s arms and locked onto his lips. His bare hairy chest felt like rawhide against my tender nipples, making them hard as diamonds. Our tongues found each other and we swapped spit for a good long time.

  “How about we continue the game inside,” lifting me up, I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me into the empty house. Rubble everywhere; crumbling plaster from the walls, mouse-eaten sofa, empty beer cans, yellowed newspapers, broken dishes. He carried me into the kitchen, swept the debris off a linoleum topped table and set my ass on it. I rested my heels on its edge and spread my knees wide. He smiled at the sight of my wet pleading pussy. I returned his smile. If I was going to die I was going to enjoy it. He licked his middle and ring fingers, played with my lips, teased my clit and then sunk them into my love canal. I was on fire. He finger fucked me slow and shallow, letting my pussy accommodate his thick fingers. As I opened up he pushed them deeper, doing me fast and hard, making me squirm and moan. Then, just as I was about to come, he pulled out and spat into his hand, grabbed the gun and lubed up the barrel. He prodded my lips with this glistening black phallus. He slipped over my erect clit and twisted it around. I gyrated my hips fucking the gun with my clit.

  “Shove it inside me,” I screamed. “Fuck me Mr. Magnum. Fuck me.”

  He twisted it into my love hole, gun sight up, it found my G-spot and it set me off like a rocket. I wrapped my arms around his massive neck and sank my tongue deep into his mouth, Frenching him as he pistol fucked my pussy.

  “Do it,” I breathed into his lips. “Pull the trigger.” He pumped the gun faster. Spasms of joy rippled through my legs.

  “I’m coming. Pull the trigger.”

  CLICK.

  I came, shaking the wobbly old table so hard it broke and we ended up on the filthy floor, his massive chest knocking the breath out of me.

  We rested.

  “Your turn,” he said, carefully pulling out Mr. Magnum, all wet with pussy juice, and handing it to me.

  “I do believe we are down to one in three,” smiling. “Take off your pants.”

  He willingly obeyed, giving me my first look at his donkey dick. It was an amazing sight. Fully erect it matched the length and thickness of my forearm. I knelt down on the gritty floor and grabbed his huge balls, squeezing them tightly. He groaned and forced my head onto it. I had to stretch my lips wide to fit him in. My mouth was full of his hot meaty head. It tasted so good, like something musky and wild that sends tingling sensations up and down your spine. As much as I enjoyed sucking on my brother’s cock, I did
n’t want him to come right away. So, I pulled away and stood up, getting into his face.

  “Okay, big boy, down on your hands and knees.”

  “What if I refuse?”

  “Do it, now,” slapping his stubble covered cheek. “Do it,” spitting into his eyes.

  “You’re turning me on with this rough stuff,” lowering himself. “Sounding like a bitch, more and more.”

  I grabbed the gun and knelt behind him, slapping his strong hairy rear. “Spread your cheeks for me. This will be good for you, come on. It’s your turn,” slapping him again. He obeyed. I licked my index finger and inserted it into his tight dark anus. He grunted, clenched, I slapped his ass hard and he relaxed.

  “You like that, don’t you?” He growled. I lubed up the gun and then slowly slid it into his ass, working it slowly deeper, inch by inch. “You’re my bitch now, Justin, And you do as I say,” pumping the pistol in and out of his ass. “Say it.”

  “….”

  “Say it,” pumping him faster.

  “I’m your bitch,” he groaned.

  “Tell me you will obey my every word,” fondling my breasts and pinching my nipples with my free hand. This new power was intoxicating.

  “God damn it,” he barked. “That hurts, you fucking bitch.”

  “Who owns you? Say it,” slapping his ass with a loud smack. “Say it or die, right now,” pumping him furiously.

  “You do,” he groaned.

  I pulled the trigger.

  CLICK.

  Empty chamber. Two chambers left, one bullet. Fifty-fifty. It was my turn. What would he do to me next? I pulled Mr. Magnum out of Justin’s ass.

  “Don’t get up,” I commanded. “Roll over, you’re my dog,” falling over on his back, weakened by his ass fuck. I straddled his chest, slapped his face and placed the gun to his lips. “Suck, fucker.” He parted his lips and I shoved it into his mouth. His eyes popped. I reached back and grabbed his rock hard cock, lowering my drooling pussy onto it. I slowly sank onto it and then slid up and down on it. He was so huge inside me. Shock waves coursed through every muscle in my body. I removed the gun from his mouth and fell forward, kissing him deeply while pumping him, grinding him hard, making him growl. He came inside me, shooting hot jets of jism, filling my vagina. I climaxed, my body shaking from head to toe lasting several minutes.

  Finally, all was still. I just lay on top of this mountain of a man, feeling on top of the world. The only sound was the distant combines. The afternoon shadows grew long. That’s when I heard the crunch of tires outside, followed by footsteps leading up to and into the house.

  “Come out. Malory Mark, I know you’re in there” an authoritative voice shouted.

  I felt the fear creep into me again but I forced myself to disregard it. To be cool. I was a new woman, now. A woman with power. I had overcome death and I had tamed my beast, my captor and I had made him my sex slave.

  A shadow appeared in the kitchen doorway. I grabbed Mr. Magnum. Fifty-fifty chance. I saw a shiny gold star on the man’s chest glinting off the rays of the sinking sun. I aimed my new friend at that star and blew him away. He was gone, just like that.

  “You need to go pray now, Duwayne and I have to get home,” dropping the gun and running out into the night.

  Chapter 4

  Dodging the Law

  *Dill*

  “Quik Pump’s up ahead. What say we pick up some beer and party before heading home?”

  “You really want to party you got a get one of them new Bibles. God, what a rush.”

  “We can do that. But first the beer.”

  “Go for it.”

  Quik Pump is a cheesy little convenience store on the north edge of Worthless Bastard. It’s bright piss-yellow sign all lit up against the night and attracting every moth for miles was coming into view. We pass by a car sitting at a cross road. It turns in behind us and follows at a close distance. A quarter of a mile later red white and blue flashers come on from the car.

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Malory says, looking in the rearview mirror. “If that’s Sven he’ll kill. What can I put on?”

  “I got a blanket back here,” pulling it up from behind the seat as I slow cruise to the Quik Pump entrance. “Get down on the floor. I’ll cover you. Don’t make a peep.”

  In the Quik Pump lot I pull to a crunching stop on the loose gravel. The patrol car pulls in and swings around so its driver’s door is next to mine. It’s a white car with brown Goose County Deputy Sheriff decal on the door. It’s Deputy Sven Ramirez alright. Half Norske. Half beaner. Six foot five with a heart the size of Texa and a brain the size of, well, Goose County. Led the Worthless Bastard Honkers to the state basketball championship back in 2011. So he’s a bit of a local hero. He rolls down his window and leans his head out. I do my best not to do anything suspicious looking.

  “Evening, Dill.”

  “Evening, Sven. What can I do for ya?”

  “Goin a bit fast weren’t ya?”

  “Oh, I thought I was keeping it around fifty-five. But, you know the speedometers on these old trucks. They tend to drift.”

  “You been out drinking, Dill? I noticed your vehicle doing a little weaving.”

  “Oh, that. I admit I did have a couple beers back at Earl’s in Cliteral. But that weaving, I can explain. I was changing cassette tapes I had a hard time finding my Smokey Robinson tape. You know the song Being With You?”

  “Can’t say I’ve heard it,” shaking his head.

  “Oh, the best date music.” Shit why did I say that? He’ll think I’m meeting someone.

  “I’ll remember that. Anyway that’s not the real reason I stopped you. I’ve been stopping every car on this road tonight. I got a girl gone missing on me tonight. Malory Mark. You seen her tonight?”

  “She stood ya up, did she? That’s a shame. Heard you two were getting close.”

  “Let’s not get into that. I do have a bad feeling she went riding with someone out on this road. Deputy Johnson followed a lead taking him out this way and I haven’t heard back from him. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. A lot of guys in this town got their eyes on Malory,” looking me hard in the eyes. “You’re not one of them, Dill, are you?”

  “Gosh sakes no,” laughing nervously. “Calico keeps me on a tight leash.”

  “How is Calico?”

  “She’s a real peach. Don’t like to see her mad, though. That’s why I’m in such a hurry to get back.”

  “What ya haulin’ in the back?” stretching his neck and seeing shadows of things through the panel windows.

  “Old TVs. That’s why I was in Cliteral. Ed Gunderson gave ‘em to me. I fix ‘em up and sell ‘em.”

  “Yeah? How’s the shop doin’?”

  “Ya know, there’s a growing market for this. Folks yearn for the old days, I guess. I get some repair jobs, too. And the records are flying off the shelves like hot cakes.”

  “By golly, Dill, sounds like you got a real sweet deal goin’ there.”

  “Yup, … say, I’m sure Malory will turn up and there’ll be a good explanation for her disappearance. Did you talk to the Reverend Mark?”

  “Yeah, he didn’t have much to say. But, I could tell this whole ordeal has just been beating him up. He looked terrible.”

  “How about that kid that lives upstairs, Blaine Wyndmere. Did she go somewhere with him? They’re kind a close, you know.”

  “Yeah, Blaine’s a good God fearing kid. I talked to him. He hadn’t seen her since Bible study got over. He’s not much of a talker, though. Spends most of his time with his nose stuck in the Bible”

  Chapter 5

  Blaine Wyndmere’s Secret Jack-off Journal - February 7, 2016

  I asked to move into Reverend Mark’s house because I felt drawn to a vocation for the religious life. That was back in the end of December. After a brief interview, he gave me his blessing that same day. So, I moved in on the first of the year - sort of like a New Year’s
resolution for spiritual improvement. The Reverend gave me a furnished bedroom on the second floor of his small house right next to the church. You should have seen my excitement. I was ready for all the austerities of a monk.

  A few weeks later, Malory, the Reverend’s twenty-year-old daughter moved in. She took an empty bedroom downstairs just off the kitchen. Malory had lived with her mom in Minneapolis ever since her parent’s divorce some ten years back. But now, Malory also claimed a calling to the devote life.

  I’ve decided to keep this spiritual journal in light of the events that happened this evening. It can serve as a tool for the blossoming of my budding relationship with Malory.

  Our arrangement was that I would be responsible for my own meals and was given a small drawer in the kitchen fridge for my groceries. My daily routine is simple. Around five each day I get back from my cashier job at Blackmart. I usually nuke some frozen dinner and take it up to my room. Eat and read The Lives of the Saints. Usually, at around six, Malory and her father cook something and break bread together down at the kitchen table.

  The house is old and the hardwood floor in my room is an excellent transmitter of sound from down below.

  Tonight, shortly after seven, I heard the clink of dishes in the kitchen sink followed by something that stirred my soul. The sound of an angel. As she washed, Malory was singing How Great Thou Art.

  I grabbed my Bible and bounded down the stairs. My heart leapt for joy when I saw she was alone, the Reverend having retired to his evening meditations and prayers as was his habit. As I entered the Kitchen I joined in on the song’s climactic final refrain.

  She turned and smiled bright as a spring morn. I felt it in my pants.

  “I wasn’t aware you were such a beautiful singer.”

  “Thank you. I’m in the church choir.”

  “Nice. May I help you dry?”

  “Why sure. There’s a clean dish towel in the bottom drawer over there.”

  “What are your plans tonight?” taking a clean wet plate from her, drying it and finding a place in the cupboard.