“Now you might…,” Ted began, but he was interrupted by the biker boss and his mama.
“’Scuse me,” he said, while she just grabbed Kerry’s arms and raised them.
The gang leader sat in front of her and his mama opened and lowered the girl’s arms so she painfully embraced him, his back to her front, the thumb bondage stretched taut.
The deputy watched with increasing wonder and appreciation as the reality sunk in for the poor girl. “But, even with such a good job,” he muttered, “don’t you think somebody might notice her mouth? Especially at stop signs and stop….”
The mama looked at Ted with pity as she brought a helmet into sight and plopped it down over the Sherman girl’s skull, strapping it tight under her chin with a practiced flourish, and snapping the opaque visor over her entire face.
“Now, now,” drawled the boss. “Wouldn’t wanna get stopped for breaking the bike helmet law, now would we?” He expertly shifted Kerry’s hands so her thumbs were obscured by his jacket, then kick-started the hog to throbbing life. The cops could imagine what the special sexual accessory was doing inside their ex-prisoner, but, by the way she flinched, they didn’t have to.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” the leader snapped, then started down the path to the road.
Sheriff Jim and deputy Ted watched them all make their way onto the highway, then just stood there in the moonlight for awhile, contemplating their position.
“So,” said Ted. “When do we go after them?”
The sheriff pondered that question for a bit, then shrugged. “Depends. We want her nice and hysterical, but not strung out or ruined. So maybe give it a day or two.” He looked at his partner in crime with a blank expression. “I mean, what’s a gang bang or two between friends?"
Sheriff Jim came slowly out of Leesa Mendaski’s room to find her parents waiting for him with anticipation.
“Yeah,” he drawled. “She’s been here all right.” He looked back to where Deputy Ted was finishing his inspection. “Clothes, jewelry, personal items missing … including underwear and shoes.” He looked back at the parents. “Looks pretty definite.”
“It’s not possible,” Cheryl Mendaski started through nearly gritted teeth. “She wouldn’t … not without telling me…!”
“Now, now, dear,” Danny Mendaski said soothingly, his hand on her arm.
Jim sighed. “We see it all the time,” he said sadly. “Young lady gets her first taste of freedom, meets a good-looking guy….”
“No,” Mrs. Mendaski said softly, but they could hear she was wavering.
“What did she take…,” Mr. Mendaski started, but after a sharp look from his wife changed it to: “What’s missing?”
The sheriff looked over at the deputy, who sauntered up, checking his notebook. “As near as we can tell, all her panties ‘cept for the granny ones, all the underwire bras, the thigh high stockings, all the high heels, her minidresses, her perfume, necklaces, earrings….” He looked up at the Mrs. “You said she had a bustier?”
Mrs. Mendaski looked up, biting her lower lip, and nodded.
“Well, it’s not here now,” Ted continued.
No, it wasn’t. The black and red mesh and lace, back-clip, front lace-up, bone-structured bustier was attached to Leesa Mendaski herself, gathering and thrusting her magnificent breasts up to the near exploding point as she pulsated in the back of Andy’s car -- garter belted, high-heeled, thick leather-chokered, and single-sleeved.
TO BE CONTINUED