"Well… just let her sleep, then… we won't bother her," the patrolman said, agreeing, tacitly, to bend the regulations, slightly.
Vaguely, Charity was aware that they had stopped. She had to get out of there! Her muscles wouldn't respond. Call out for help! Dear God! I–I need someone… anyone… t-to help me! She couldn't form the words to call out! She was absolutely helpless.
Then, they were moving, again, and the hypnotic roar of the engine, the whine of the tires and the gently rocking motion of the truck as it sped down the highway, combined with the drug in her bloodstream to keep her fast asleep.
She was not aware that the trucks stopped one more time in a turn-out at the side of the road while the four men conferred.
Jeff told them, "We've still got to have a good reason for stopping… otherwise the boss'll be on our backs!"
"All right, but what?" Brad asked.
"A tire's easiest…" Jeff said. "Just let the air out of one of the inside duals… it'll take at least two hours to get it off and back on!"
"Where…?" Pete queried.
"Salome… We'll check into a motel, then bring her in!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Charity awoke, groggily, to find herself lying on a bed. The ceiling swam into focus, first, then gradually, the room began to take on substance and outline; finally, she could assess what her senses told her: she was nude on the bed. The four men, drivers and co-drivers of the two trucks were in the room with her. Jeff sat on the edge of the bed, nearest her, a glass in his hand, smiling, lewdly, down at her nakedness. Brad sat on the foot of the bed smoking a cigarette. Lounging at ease, just taking a long draught from his glass, Pete sat in a gaily upholstered chair. Matt sat on a straight chair leaned back against the wall.
"She's waking up!" Jeff warned.
"Christ! It's about time!" Matt commented.
Her eyes fluttered open wide, then, and she looked around the room, alarm and fear surging through her. All four men were watching her, avidly.
She struggled to sit up. "Wh-What…?" she managed, a scream rising to her throat.
Jeff's hand went tight over her mouth. He hissed down at her. "Not a peep out of you!"
Rolling her head from side to side, she tried to escape his restraining hand; then, as she tried to use her hands to tug his hand away from her mouth, her wrists were seized in dual, stronghanded imprisonment.
"Hold her, tight!" Jeff grunted.
Charity heaved up against him, lashing out with a knee at the same time. Likewise, now, her ankles were grabbed and held in strong hands. She lay spread-eagle, held immobile by four men, Jeff's hand still clapped, tightly, over her mouth.
"Now, you little bitch!" Jeff panted. "We're not going to hurt you… unless we have to! We're just going to have us a little gang fuck… with you!"
She tried vainly to escape their tight handholds on her.
Jeff went on, "No use to try to get away! Now, all you have to do is cooperate! Make up your mind to that… and you'll be all right! You know what we want!?"
Charity stared in disbelief up at him, her eyes pleading for mercy. My God! F-Four of them!
"You understand what I'm saying?"
Her head wagged in the affirmative, and he added, "All four of us are going to gang fuck you… one way or another… and whether you cooperate or not!"
Desperately, she thrashed arms, legs and head, in another futile attempt to gain her freedom. They held her tight and let her struggle against them for several moments.
"Goddamn… we'll have to tie her and gag her!" she heard Matt say who was holding one of her legs.
"Okay! Bitch! You asked for it! Tie her up… and get something to gag her with!" Jeff ordered.
Pete's voice, now, louder than the others, gained their attention, "Christ! Fucking a woman that's tied up isn't much fun! You don't know yet whether she'll cooperate or not… ask her… then let her answer! She can't answer with your hand over her mouth!"
"Okay… go ahead, smart-ass… ask her, yourself!" Jeff grunted.
"Listen, doll," Pete said, close to her ear, "you know what's going to happen to you, one way or another, don't you?"
Charity shook her head up and down, tears glistening in her eyes. She knew! The prospect frightened her, beyond all reason, but she didn't want to be tied up. That was even worse!
He went on, "If we don't tie you up… will you play ball with us… don't yell… or try to make a break for it!"
It was a minuscule alternative. No matter what she did, what she agreed to do… or not do, she was going to be subjected to the sexual desires of all four of them… at the same time! My God… how could I ever do it? Four men… at the same time… i-it would k-kill me! Then, one of the men — it must have been Matt, she decided — ran his hand, gently and sinuously up her thighs, and, unerringly, drew a moist finger through the coral furrow of her loins, parting the lightly curling, auburn pubic hair to find the softly pulsing bud of her clitoris. The sensuous contact caused her to jerk her hips away and writhe them down into the soft mattress. Unwanted sex thrills flashed through her, instantly, and she knew the answer she must give. Her head moved up and down in the affirmative. If it has to happen, anyway… I don't want to be t-tied up and g-gagged…
"Take your hand off her mouth!" Pete told Jeff.
Her mouth was freed. She licked her lips and looked up at the circle of faces above her. It was then she discovered that they had prepared for this; the bed had been dismantled and the mattress lay directly on the floor.
"You do understand the conditions, don't you?" Pete asked.
"Y-Yes…" Her voice was dull.
"You want a drink…?" Brad asked, pushing a water glass under her nose.
"P-Please… I–I would like to have some water…"
"I'm talking about whiskey…" Brad said.
Whiskey! Perhaps it would help… at least it might dull things a little for her.
"All right… I'll have a drink!" Charity said with decision.
"It'll help…" It was Brad, again; he put an arm under her shoulders and lifted her to a sitting position. Thrusting the glass into her hand, he slopped cheap bourbon into it. "Sorry… no mixer… no ice… just drink it neat!"
She sipped. The fiery liquid burned her throat, and she made a wry face. "UUugh!"
"Come on… drink it down!" Jeff snapped. He took the glass from her, placed it to her lips and tilted it. "Drink it!" he commanded. The raw liquor spilled down her throat, and he would not allow her to stop drinking until the glass was empty.
Charity gasped for breath. It seemed as though her whole insides were seared, and the warmth was beginning to spread through her whole body.
"Ugh! That's h-horrible stuff!"
Pete moved in behind her, his hands going around, under her arms, to capture the fullness of a youthful breast in each callused palm. Purposefully, he kneaded and massaged the soft, smoothness of them, the satiny skin sliding through his hands sensuously. Then, she felt the hairiness of his chest pressed up against her back… and lower down, the hard warmth of his erect penis brushed the small of her back. He was naked! She decided that he must have been undressing while the whiskey was being forced down her… and now, he was squatting or kneeling behind her, fondling her breasts, with his cock, already hardened, shoved up against her warm flesh. She shuddered. It had begun!
Shakily, she asked, "C–Can I–I have another one… before you do it to me?"
"Okay…" Jeff said, dubiously, "but we don't want you to get too swacked to shake that hot little ass of yours, baby!"
The glass was put into her hand, again, an inch of bourbon in it. She raised it to her lips and took a large gulp.
"Take it easy, baby!" Matt warned. "That's pretty powerful stuff… if you're not used to it."
Charity looked down at him where he sat, near her feet, his hands busy moving up and down the smooth, soft columns of her thighs. She said, "I–I need s-something strong…"