THE BLACK FOX

PART THREE

By

Peril Master

Warning! The following story contains adult material. If you are offended by such content, then don’t read any further.

Valerie stepped into the living room of the house as Jose Hernandez followed her inside. He was immediately impressed by the interior of the house, wondering how this girl could have it all so early in life. What was her story? He suspected she was more than merely a wanna-be private investigator. She had not mentioned anything about payment for her services, and now he understood why.

He abandoned his car a day before and had hidden in the back of Valerie’s convertible during the drive here. Ever since walking into the girl’s office something nagged him. Like he was being followed. He didn’t tell the girl anything, deciding to play this out as long as he could.

Hernandez’s instincts were correct. A dark car with two men inside had discreetly followed them as soon as they drove away from the office building. They were about to make their move when Hernandez went to see Valerie. Now they knew his location and could almost smell the reward money they would collect for killing Hernandez.

The two men drove past the house as Hernandez and Valerie disappeared inside. The girl obviously did not suspect they were being followed. This allowed them time to plan their next move carefully. They also had to make a call to their boss...Drake Turco. Whoever said crime didn’t pay?

Buckley entered the living room. “Miss Miles, you’re home early. What...?” He spotted Hernandez behind Valerie. “I see we have company.”

“Buckley, this is Jose Hernandez,” said Valerie. “He’s a client. Mr. Hernandez, this is my assistant Buckley Denton.”

Buckley regarded Hernandez, unimpressed by the man’s appearance. “How do you do, sir?”

“You’re the butler?” Hernandez asked.

Buckley tensed. No one had ever called him a butler. “I’m Miss Miles' assistant.”

“Whatever you say, pal,” Hernandez said, rolling his eyes. “You got any booze?”

Buckeye eyed Valerie with a questioning gaze. “Excuse me?”

Valerie smiled, diffusing the tension. “Help yourself to a drink, Mr. Hernandez,” she said, signaling to a bottle of Scotch across the living room. “Buckley, a word please.”

Buckley followed Valerie past the dinning room, joining her in the kitchen. “Miss Miles, who is this man and what is he doing here?” he asked.

“He has important information about a narcotic ring here in the city,” Valerie said. “I brought him here because he needs protection. He claims to be a former criminal who’s had a change of heart.”

Buckley sighed. “Do you trust him?"

“I don’t know,” Valerie replied. “My instincts say no, but right now all that matters is investigating a potential heroin smuggling operation. I’ll explain it all later. In the meantime, be nice to him. Do it for me, Buckley.”

Buckley exhaled. “Only as a favor to you, Miss Miles.”

Valerie emerged from behind the privacy screen decked out in The Black Fox costume, holding the mask. Night had fallen and it was time to act on the information Hernandez had given her. Buckley entered the secret room through the metal door leading to the den. He was still uncomfortable seeing her in the curve-hugging costume but pretended not to mind.

“Miss Miles, where are you going?”

“Hernandez gave me Drake Turco’s address,” Valerie said. “I’m going to look around and see what I can find. Besides, I want to see this Drake Turco myself”

The old Buckley would have warned against such action, but it was no longer his show. “Be careful, Miss Miles,” he said.

“Of course, Buckley,” she said, smiling. “Where’s Hernandez?”

“Taking a much needed bath,” Buckley replied. “Why did he answer the phone in your office when I called today?”

Valerie recalled the bondage incident in her office and cleared her throat. She didn't tell Buckley about it because she didn’t want him to worry, not to mention that it was embarrassing. The weird thing was she couldn’t stop thinking about it. A tingling sensation engulfed her every time she thought about being tied up and helpless. There was something...erotic about being bound and gagged. God, what was she thinking?

“Oh, I stepped out for a moment,” Valerie said. “That must have been when you called.” She placed the boomerang shaped mask on her face, securing it behind her head with a buckled leather strap. “Don’t wait up, Buckley. This could take a while. If Hernandez asks, tell him I had some business to take care of.”

Valerie rode off into the night on her motorcycle. Using less-traveled streets and shortcuts she arrived at Drake Turco’s mansion. Like her own house, it was located on the outskirts of the city. She veered of the road and killed the engine. She dismounted the motorcycle and hid it behind a shrub on the side of the road.

A tall wooden fence surrounded the compound. She stalked her way to the fence and leapt upwards, grabbing the top of the fence. She pulled herself up, hooking her leg on top of the fence. Using her leg as leverage she scaled the fence easily, landing inside the grounds.

So far so good, she thought, scanning the compound. Trees, plants, shrubs, and water fountains almost obscured the two story house. It was perfect. The landscaping objects would provide plenty of cover as she worked her way toward the house. Aside from some lights in the windows of the house there was no sign of any activity. It was almost too easy.

Valerie spotted a sliding glass door at the back of the house, surrounded by a tall porch. That would probably be the best way inside the house. She advanced toward the house carefully. She was halfway there when she heard rustling. She ducked behind a large, circular water fountain.

A fat goon carrying a shotgun emerged from around the side of the house. He paused, surveying the area. He didn’t see Valerie behind the fountain and continued his patrol. Valerie made her move. She dashed toward the goon. The goon heard footsteps and turned. He was met with a sweeping kick to his jaw, snapping his head sideways. The blow completely stunned the goon, knocking him to his knees. Valerie stepped back, allowing the man to fall face first to the ground.

With some effort and straining she dragged the unconscious goon behind a shrub next to the porch. Too bad the bullet-proof suit didn’t give her superhuman strength, she thought. She was about to climb the stairs of the porch when the glass door slid open. She crouched against the base of the porch, holding her breath. She heard footsteps and smelled cigarette smoke.

Another goon with a knife scar across his face took in the sight before him. He suddenly spotted part of a leg behind the shrub. He threw his cigarette down, smothering it with his foot. Valerie had neglected to completely conceal the body of the fat goon. The second goon drew his gun and descended the squeaky wooden steps of the porch.

Valerie waited for the goon to reach the bottom and jumped from her position next to the porch. She tapped the goon on the shoulder. The goon spun around, ready to cut down anyone before him. Before he could act Valerie chopped the gun from his hand, following up with a vicious judo chop to the goon’s ribs. The goon groaned, doubling over. Valerie finished him off with a stunning knee to his face. The goon fell back, out cold.

Valerie dragged the second goon against the base of the porch and climbed the stairs leading to the deck. She slid the glass door open and stepped into the house. She stood in a lounging area, contemplating which way to proceed. In one direction she spotted part of a kitchen. In the other direction there was an entrance to a large room. She chose the direction of the large room and walked along the wall of the hallway, alert for anything. She entered the large room. It was empty and spacious with expensive decorations. This Turco had expensive tastes, she thought.

She suddenly heard laughter coming from yet another hallway. The place was laid out more like a maze than a typical house. She crossed the room, entering the hallway. She heard voices coming from within a room further down the hall. She moved against the wall, advancing silently. A large plant outside the entrance of the room provided some cover. She ducked behind the plant, peering into the room.

Inside the room a dozen underworld types sat in leather couches and chairs, puffing on cigars and sipping drinks. A tall and well-dressed man stood in the middle of the room. Valerie was willing to bet this man was Drake Turco. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on him. His face was intense with an icy look. It was a bit on the round side but still handsome.

“This undertaking will be the most profitable one in our lives,” Turco said, addressing the gangsters. “You should all feel honored to be part of it. We will begin with San Francisco and expand our operation nationwide.”

“What’s our individual profit?” a bald gangster asked.

Turco turned to the man. “You will be able to blow your fucking nose with a hundred-dollar bill. How’s that for individual profit?”

Turco laughed. The rest of the gangsters joined him as Valerie looked on. This confirmed Hernandez’s story. She still didn’t trust Hernandez and worried about leaving him alone with Buckley.

“What about our friend Jose Hernandez?” a fat gangster asked. “He’s still around isn’t he?”

Turco went serious. “Hernandez will be dead before the night is over.”

Valerie’s heart took a dive. What did he mean by that, she thought? Had they discovered Hernandez was staying with her? If that was the case then she had to warn Buckley.

Turco raised his whiskey glass. “A toast!” he said. “Here’s to us gentlemen. We are about to be very, very, very rich men!”

The gangsters in the room stood, raising their glasses.

“Turco!” the gangsters chanted in unison. “Turco! Turco! Turco!”

Valerie studied the faces of the men carefully. She didn’t recognize any of them, but was sure she would run into them later.

“Freeze!” she heard someone yell.

Valerie jumped, turning in the direction of the hallway behind her. The two men she had knocked out stood across the hallway with guns aimed at her. She reached for the gun in her holster but it was too late. The two goons opened fire. A volley of bullets struck her, knocking her into the room where Turco and the gangsters stood. She staggered to the middle of the room, surrounded by the startled gangsters. Drake Turco stood exactly three meters next to her.

“What the hell is this?” Turco asked.

Valerie stepped toward Turco and knelt before him, sweeping her outstretched leg across his ankles. The impact threw his balance off and he tumbled back, striking the floor on his back.

“It’s that crazy vigilante girl!” a gangster said, reaching inside his jacket.

Valerie shot to her feet, launching herself toward the gangster. She kicked him squarely on the groin. The gangster forgot about reaching for his gun and fell to the floor, clutching his crotch in agony.

“Get her!” another gangster said, lunging at her.

The other gangsters moved on her quickly, but Valerie was too quick for them. She jumped over them, somersaulting through the air. She landed outside the circle of surprised gangsters. The two goons who fired at her entered. They stood between her and the entrance of the room. She darted at them, ready to beat them silly for a second time.

The two goons wanted no part of her and parted, giving her an escape route. She dashed out of the room, leaving behind a dozen startled and angry gangsters. The two goons looked at each other, questioning whether to go after her or not.

“Don’t just stand there!” Turco screamed at the two goons from the floor. “Go after her!”

The goons ran afer Valerie, secretly hoping they wouldn’t catch up with her.

Valerie ran through the house until finding her way back to the glass door. She dashed outside. With her adrenaline pumping she raced to the wooden fence. She wasted no time in climbing and clearing the fence. She found her motorcycle and mounted the heavy bike. She glanced back, relieved no one was chasing her.

Inside the house Drake Turco was still fuming about being knocked to the floor by the vigilante girl in the ridiculous costume. The other gangsters stood silently, scared to say anything. No one dared speak before Turco had his say. That was the unwritten rule.

“It seems this...vigilante girl has an interest in me,” Turco finally said.

"What was she doing here?" a thin gangster asked.

"She knows about the operation," the fat gangster added.

“Someone must have told her,” another gangster offered.

“No matter,” Turco said flatly. “I’ll take care of this silly girl myself. She’s going to wish she never heard of me.”

Jose Hernandez stood in the living room and downed yet another shot of whiskey. Buckley looked on from across the room, disgusted by the man’s behavior. He was having a hard time keeping the promise he made to Miss Miles about being nice to this lowlife.

Hernandez turned to Buckley. “Have a drink with me, Berkley?”

Buckley decided not to correct the man. “No thank you.”

“That was a heck of a dinner,” Hernandez said. “It would have been much nicer if the redhead had joined me. Where did you say she went again?”

Buckley exhaled. “Miss Miles has asked me to keep you comfortable. As a favor to her I obliged. She didn’t mention anything about carrying on a pointless and boring conversation. Furthermore, I don’t like you. I find you rude, vulgar, ungrateful, and ill-bred. Not to mention that you’re a criminal. If I wasn’t afraid you’d steal something, I wouldn’t even be in the same room with you.”

Hernandez shrugged. “Nobody’s perfect.” He poured himself another drink and paced around the room. “How did the redhead get all this? She’s awfully young-not to mention a tasty dish. Did she inherit it? How do you fit into all this?”

Buckley glared at Hernandez. “If you refer to Miss Miles as the ‘redhead’ one more time I’m going to shove that glass down your throat.”

Hernandez stopped in his tracks. He turned to Buckley and smiled. “Well, finally, some emotion. So the dog has some teeth after all?”

“What did you call me?”

Hernandez was about to reply when the phone in the living room rang. Buckley and Hernandez eyed each other, ignoring the ringing phone. Buckley finally stepped to the phone, still staring at Hernandez. He was about to pick up the phone when the front door flew open. More specifically, it was forced open.

Hernandez and Buckley turned toward the door. Two rugged-looking men armed with machine-guns stormed inside. It was the same pair who had followed Valerie and Hernandez to the house. They spotted Hernandez and opened fire, spraying the living room with bullets. Hernandez dropped his drink and dove to the floor behind a couch. Buckley was not as lucky. He was hit in the shoulder, hitting the floor instantly.

Hernandez cowered behind the couch as bullets flew over his head and penetrated the soft cushions, hitting the floor inches from him. He reached under his pant leg and pulled out a small caliber revolver strapped to his ankle. The two men continued their relentless assault. Stray bullets struck the walls and smashed every object in sight, but by some miracle Hernandez was not hit.

The two men finally ran out of ammunition. The deadly barrage stopped as they attempted to reload. The phone continued ringing. The feathered stuffing from the couch cushions descended on the shattered living room like snow. Hernandez emerged from behind the couch, poised and ready to fire. He zeroed-in on the two men as they finished reloading.

Hernandez opened fire, striking one of the men in the forehead. The hit-man gasped with shock, dropping to the floor in a lifeless bundle. The second goon aimed his machine-gun at Hernandez, but took two bullets in the chest before he could get off a shot. The goon staggered back, spraying the ceiling with a burst of bullets before hitting the floor.

Hernandez turned his attention to Buckley. He walked over to him, kneeling over the wounded man. Buckley groaned, gasping with pain. Hernandez examined the wound on Buckley’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Berkley, you'll make it,” Hernandez said.

“It’s...Buckley you idiot,” Buckley mumbled, grimacing with pain.

Hernandez stood, making his way to the phone. It had finally stopped ringing. Before he changed his mind, he picked up the phone and dialed. Being on the good side was actually more trouble than being bad.

Valerie arrived at the mansion. She was scared and nervous as she rode her motorcycle through the tunnel leading to the secret room. She tried to call Buckley but there was no answer. She ducked behind the privacy screen, changed into her street clothes in record time, and raced up the stairs to the den.

She burst into the living room, finding it in complete dissray. She spotted Buckley on the floor, blood oozing from his shoulder. “Oh, my God!” she gasped, dashing to her fallen friend. She knelt before him.

“Miss Miles,” Buckley gasped.

“Buckley, what happened?” She spotted the two dead goons in the living room, but there was no sign of Hernandez.

“I’m all right,” Buckley said, through clenched teeth. “Hernandez already called for help...before he left.”

“He escaped?” Valerie asked.

Buckley nodded. Sirens could be heard outside the house. Valerie examined the living room, or what was left of it. She was going to have a hard time explaining all this to the police. She didn’t care. At least Buckley was all right.

Valerie entered the hospital room. After two hours of waiting she was finally allowed to see Buckley. Aside from a bandage around his shoulder he looked like the same old Buckley. His hair was in perfect condition. Nothing fazed the man.

Valerie attempted to smile. “Buckley, how are you feeling?”

Buckley glanced at his shoulder. “Getting shot isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

“You had me worried.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Miles.”

“Buckley, do you ever think of yourself?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to stay here for another day,” Buckley said. "Not by choice, if I may add."

“Don’t worry,” Valerie said. “I can manage.” She took a step closer to the bed. “What happened back there?”

The door of the room swung open and Detective Joseph Pike stood at the entrance. “Yeah, what happened back there?”

Valerie turned to Pike, surprised by his appearance. “Detective Pike, what are you doing here?”

Pike entered the room, closing the door behind him. “Picking up nurses.”

Valerie sighed. She wasn’t in the mood for Pike’s wise cracks. Since she had opened her private eye business he had visited her office a couple of times, but she hadn’t seen him in a while.

Pike approached the bed where Buckley reclined. “How you doing, Buckley? Remember me?”

“I never forget a face,” Buckley said. “Thank you for your concern. I’ll live.”

“Glad to hear that,” Pike said, turning to Valerie. “What happened back there? They scraped up two stiffs from your living room...or what was once your living room. Care to explain that?”

“Miss Miles was not home,” Buckley said.

Pike turned to Buckley. "Okay, let's start with you. Who killed those two dirt-bags?"

"A client of Miles Miles," Buckley said. "It was self defense."

"Self defense?" Pike repetead. "That's always a good reason."

Valerie frowned. “I was hired by a man,” she said. “He said he needed protection.”

“Protection from what?”

“He said there were men who wanted to kill him.” Valerie replied.

A knock interrupted them. The door was pushed open. A well dressed man in a pin-stripped suit entered. He held his hat in his hand and his thick black hair was combed back. Valerie stared at the man. His face was still fresh in her mind. He was one of the men from Turco’s house!

“Mind if I join the party?” the man said.

Valerie stared at the man, mustering all her restraint in an effort not to show any emotion. She hoped he would not recognize her. The man closed the door and glanced at Valerie curiously.

“This is Lieutenant Mark Barron,” Pike said, turning to the clean-cut man. “This is Valerie Miles.” He gestured to Buckley on the bed. “That’s her assistant Buckley Denton.”

Barron regarded Valerie, impressed by her beauty. "I've heard a lot about you, Miss Miles. Pike brags about the fact you're a private investigator. How's business?"

"Not too bad," Valerie replied, sharing an awkward glance with Barron.

Barron finally turned away from Valerie and addressed Buckley. “Heard you took one in the shoulder?”

“Better than taking one in the chest,” Buckley said.

“We were just getting to the part where Miss Miles explains how two dead men ended up in her living room.” Pike stared at Valerie. “Please, continue.”

“Miss Miles was not home,” Buckley said, bordering on anger. “If you want to know anything ask me.”

“It’s okay, Buckley,” Valerie said. “A man named Jose Hernandez hired me. He said he needed protection from men who wanted to kill him.”

“He give a reason?” Pike asked.

Valerie shook her head. “He said he couldn’t tell me. At least not yet.”

Pike scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”

“You can believe whatever you want,” Valerie said.

Pike sighed. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is. Why did this character need protection?”

“You’ll have to ask him,” Valerie said. “Of course you’ll have to find him first.”

“Miss Miles, you’re hindering an official police investigation,” Barron said. “I strongly advise you to cooperate.”

“I’ve told you what I know,” Valerie replied.

“I see,” Pike said, unconvinced. He turned to Buckley. “So two men broke into the house and shot up the place before this Hernandez iced them? Is that the deal?”

Buckley nodded. “That will do.”

"And where were you?" Pike asked Valerie.

"I had some...business to take care off," Valerie replied, giving Barron a side glance.

“Can I speak to you in the hallway, Valerie?” Pike said. “Alone.”

Valerie turned to Buckley and smiled. “I’ll be right back.” They conveyed a knowing glance: Don’t tell them anything.

Valerie joined Pike in the hallway outside the room. He waited for a nurse to walk by before speaking.

“What the hell are you doing, Valerie?” Pike said sharply. “Why are you lying to me? More importantly, why are you lying to Barron? He’s not as forgiving as I am.”

“I’ve told you what I know, Detective,” Valerie said. “It’s up to you if you want to believe it or not.”

“Don’t give me attitude,” Pike said, raising his voice. “Who do you think you’re dealing with here?" He lowered his voice, almost whispering. "You better come clean or I’m going to bust you so hard you’re gonna wish you’d never become a private investigator. You think I don’t know how you got your license? A little female persuasion goes a long way doesn’t it? I’m sure the board would be interested too.”

Valerie’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to get personal, Detective!” Her voice was audible enough to be heard throughout the silent hallway. “If you want to report me to the board then to go ahead! Don’t ever threaten me again, Detective!”

Pike noticed the pain on Valerie’s face. He had gone too far. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“I guess I was wrong about you,” Valerie said, her voice quivering. “I thought you were on my side. It goes to show how much I know.”

“I am on your side, Valerie. But you have to understand...”

“This conversation is over,” Valerie snapped, walking away from Pike. She needed to regroup before returning to the room.

Pike watched her leave, listening to her crisp footsteps. He leaned back against the wall and sighed. He threw his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “If you only knew how I feel about you.”

Valerie told Buckley about Barron when she returned to the room. At Buckley’s urging, she decided not to return home and checked into a hotel. She also didn’t feel like going back to her shattered living room that was now a crime scene.

As she laid in bed, she wrestled whether to tell Pike that Barron was a dirty cop on Turco’s payroll. It was only a matter of time before Barron put things together and discovered her secret. She would have to explain how she knew about Barron, assuming Pike believed her. She couldn’t confess to Pike that she was the Black Fox, not yet anyway. She wasn’t sure she could trust him. The incident in the hospital hallway also didn’t help.

She turned on her side, feeling the soft bed-sheets caressing her nude body. They didn’t have the same feel as her satin sheets back home, but they were comfortable. Mentally she was not comfortable. Buckley had almost been killed and now the police were watching every move she made, not to mention that she had to somehow prevent Drake Turco from smuggling several tons of heroin into the city.

She slipped her hand under the pillow, feeling the butt of a small pistol. She was sure she hadn’t been followed but wasn’t taking any chances. She hoped nothing happened because she was going to look rather silly running around in the nude while wielding a gun.

Valerie did not sleep well that night. She was grateful when daylight finally came. She took a quick shower and headed home. She needed to change clothes and then stop by the hospital to see Buckley. When she arrived at her house she found an army type truck parked in front of the gate. The back of the truck was covered with a canvas tarp. Letters on the door of the truck read: KIMBLE’S CONTRACTORS.

She parked her car in front of the truck and stepped out to investigate. Three men dressed in white overalls stood next to the truck. One of the men was short, almost like a midget, while the other two were tall and broad-shouldered. They snapped to attention as she approached. Valerie regarded the odd-trio, keeping her distance.

“Good morning,” she said pleasantly. “Can I help you?”

“Good morning,” the short man said. “Are you Miss Valerie Miles?”

“Yes,” Valerie replied. “Who might you be?”

“We’re contractors,” the short man said. “We were contacted by Buckley Denton. He gave this address and mentioned something about a job. Damage to a living room. He said to discuss the details with a Miss Valerie Miles.”

Valerie shook her head. “He didn’t mention anything to me. Let me give him a call so we can clear this up.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” the short man said flatly.

The two burly men drew guns from their overall pockets. They trained their weapons at Valerie, stepping next to the short man. Valerie froze, focusing on the guns aimed at her. She cursed herself for falling into such a simple trap. It was the price she paid for her inexperience.

“Who are you?” she asked, attempting to sound calm.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” the short-man said, ravishing Valerie with his beady eyes. “Please be so kind and get in the back of the truck.”

“Where are you taking me?” Valerie asked. “Who sent you?”

“Shut-up and get inside!” the short man said angrily.

His tone surprised Valerie and she flinched. She didn’t stand a chance against two armed men. She would have to go along with this and choose her chance carefully. She proceeded to the back of the truck as the two large men kept her covered with their guns. Their serious expressions seemed to be carved in stone.

She climbed into the back of the truck, realizing how difficult a task it was while wearing a skirt and heels. The two burly men followed her inside. One of the men pulled down a rolled up canvass on top of the truck, covering the opening at the back.

Valerie made her way to the front of the truck, kneeling uncomfortably while attempting to pull her skirt over her legs. She kept as much distance from the two men as physically possible. The engine of the truck started and it began to move down the street. The short man was obviously driving.

The drive continued in silence for a few minutes. The two men stared at Valerie, hypnotized by the gorgeous young woman before them. They had never seen such perfection in a woman before. Valerie looked away, avoiding eye contact with the men. She could feel their eyes on her, making her even more uncomfortable.

“Turn around and lay down on your stomach,” one of the men said, tucking his gun inside his overalls.

“Why?” Valerie asked, studying the man. He had dark hair while the other man was blonde. Aside from that they were virtually twins.

“Do it!” the blonde man said, motioning with the gun.

Valerie had her answer when the dark-haired man reached into a pocket and pulled out several lengths of rope. There was no point in resisting. She lay on her stomach. The dark-haired man straddled Valerie’s lower back, supporting himself on his knees. He gathered her arms behind her back and proceeded to tie her wrists with a length of rope. He pulled the rope extra tight, making her groan. He knew what he was doing and secured her wrists quickly.

He rotated his position, turning away from her back. He was virtually sitting on her backside. He used another rope length to tie her ankles together. He dismounted and stood on his knees next to Valerie. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a blue bandana.

Valerie turned her head, spotting the man as he gathered the bandana tightly. She faced forward and braced herself. The man forced the bandana between her full lips and pulled...hard. He tied the gag so tight that it dug into her cheeks, distorting her beautiful face.

The man regarded Valerie, his eyes sweeping over her perfect body. He suddenly smacked her hard across her buttocks with his hand. “Be a good girl and behave yourself now.”

Valerie gasped as the sting of the blow resonated through her backside. She closed her eyes and remained still. Her first case was not exactly going according to plan. An old saying entered her mind: Be careful of what you wish for.

“You outta feel the ass on this broad,” the dark-haired man said. “Like fucking iron.”

The blonde man approached, kneeling on the other side of Valerie. “I’m a tit man myself.”

Valerie had done a good job of remaining calm, but that last remark finally broke down her bravo. A cold panic engulfed her. Her breathing became more labored and her heart pounded anxiously. She was in big trouble.

The two men stared at each other, communicating with their eyes. They reached for Valerie, turning her over so that she laid on her back. Valerie resisted by squirming and kicking wildy. She shook her head and mumbled through the gag.

The men laughed, taking special pleasure in watching their beautiful bound captive flop around like a fish out of water. The blonde man grabbed Valerie’s legs, pinning them to the deck of the truck. He straddled her, sitting on her ankles.

The dark-haired man positioned himself over Valerie’s head, pinning her upper body to the floor of the truck. She cursed through the gag, shaking her head. The defiance in her emerald eyes evaporated, replaced by fear and panic.

“Hey, do you think she’s a real redhead?” the blonde man asked.

The dark-haired man shrugged. “Only way to find out.”

Valerie listened in horror. She fought even harder, swaying her hips from side to side as she bucked. It was the only movement she could execute. Good God! She thought. What had she gotten herself into?

“Hold still, darling,” the blonde man said with controlled excitement. He placed his hands on Valerie’s upper thighs, sliding them down until reaching the bottom of her skirt below her knees. He paused, staring at his companion. “Ten bucks says she’s not a natural redhead.”

The dark-haired man laughed. “You’re on!”

The blonde man pulled the skirt up slowly. Valerie continued to squirm and plead through the gag. The skirt advanced past her thighs, revealing smooth and perfect skin above the stocking tops. The man pushed the skirt past her hips, revealing her white lace panties and garter straps. He finally released the skirt, leaving it bunched up around her waist.

“Nooommmph! Basmmmpph! Mmmmmmpphh!” Valerie shouted, her eyes wide with shock.

Her tormentors ignored her incoherent threats. They had more interesting things to concentrate on. The blonde man regarded Valerie’s private area. Her panties were flimsy and the outlines of her pubic hair was clearly visible. She had once again worn her panties over her garter belt. When would she learn!

The blonde man reached for the waistband of the panties and yanked them down roughly. Valerie gasped as her panties were pulled down past her hips, exposing her private area. She closed her eyes and moaned with humiliation. She was powerless to prevent whatever these men wanted to do to her.

“You lose!” the dark-haired man said, gazing at Valerie’s perfectly trimmed auburn muff.

The blonde man ignored his companion’s taunting. He stared at Valerie’s private area as if in a trance. He had never seen such a beautiful pussy in his life. It wasn’t too small or too large. It was just right. It was begging for attention. It was his duty to provide the attention. Unfortunately he had lost most of his "plumbing" after being hit by flying schrapnel from an 88 shell during the war. He reached inside the pocket of his overalls, retrieving his .45 automatic.

“What are you doing?” the dark-haired man asked, staring nervously at the gun.

Valerie’s desperate eyes were also focused on the large gun. Her breasts heaved with every frantic breath she took. She had never felt this vulnerable before. She had no idea what the man was about to do, but knew enough to be afraid.

“You think I can make her come with this?” the blonde man asked, studying the gun like an abstract piece of art.

Valerie resumed squirming violently, shaking her head. Muffled pleas escaped through the saliva soaked gag wedged between her teeth. Her pleas of mercy were ignored. She wasn’t a person but an object of pleasure to be used by these two thugs.

The blonde man moved the menacing gun toward her crotch. Valerie attempted to close to her legs but the man inserted his other arm between her quivering limbs, forcing them apart. Her panties strained to accommodate her spread thighs, almost tearing apart.

The dark-haired man kept Valerie pinned to the floor of the truck. He laughed, shaking his head. “You are one sick son of a bitch.”

The blonde man was in his own twisted world. He was going to give this broad what all fucking broads deserved. What all fucking broads wanted. His face contorted into a cold, sadistic leer. He suddenly jammed the barrel of the .45 into the squirming girl’s cunt.

Valerie threw her head back and screamed for all she was worth. She felt the truck moving under her as the man twisted and rammed the cold metal barrel into her. He shoved the gun almost all the way inside the screaming girl, excited by her discomfort. He fucked her with the gun, grinding the barrel in and out of her pussy with a furious pace.

Valerie arched and fought the humiliating intrusion to no avail. The man was relentless, mirroring her motions as he pumped the gun barrel into her lovely pussy. He stared into Valerie's anguished face, proud of the pain he was inflicting. He pounded her with a steady rhythm, captivated by the muffled sounds coming from the girl.

The dark-haired man holding Valerie to the floor of the truck was not about to allow his friend to have all the fun. He released the twisting girl, shifting his hands to her breasts. He palmed her firm and round tits, squeezing them through the fabric of her blouse. He could not believe how perfect this girl was!

Valerie screamed, moaned, and gasped, consumed with pain...and something else! No! It couldn’t be! It wasn’t possible! Without realizing it, she began rolling her hips against the barrel of the gun! The tip of the barrel suddenly found her ultra sensitive clitoris. Oh, God! This wasn’t happening! The rapid movement of the gun barrel, along with her own writhing, was stimulating her! She closed her eyes and bit into the gag, attempting to fight the sensation building within her.

The blonde man noticed the expression on the squirming girl. Encouraged by her response, he increased his pumping. This was much better than he hoped. This broad was getting turned on! He ravished Valerie's sweet pussy without mercy, twisting and jerking the gun barrel deep inside her.

“Uhhhggghhmmmmphhh!” Valerie screamed, thrusting her hips upward. It wasn’t to resist the invasion of her private area, but to increase her pleasure! She needed more stimulation! Nothing mattered but the urge to satisfy her body's primal craving! She ignored the laughter from the man mauling her breasts, concentrating instead on getting herself off!

The man pulled the gun barrel away from her, teasing the outer area of her cunt. The barrel of the gun was wet, glistening erotically with her juices. She moaned with frustration, collapsing to the floor of the truck. She swallowed hard, gasping for air through the gag. Sweat covered her forehead, dripping down the sides of her head. Her eyes were closed and her body trembled with excitement. She had been forced to the edge of orgasm, but was denied the release her body needed. She was unsatisfied!

Without warning the man shoved the barrel of the gun inside her cunt yet again. Valerie shrieked with surprise. Not again! She thought. She couldn’t take another round of teasing! She needed to be filled properly! She needed to come!

The truck slowed and came to a stop. The blonde man ceased grinding the gun into Valerie’s pussy. “Shit!” he muttered under his breath. “Sorry, darling, but we’ll have to pick this up later.” He withdrew the gun and wiped it across Valerie’s cheek, smothering her juices on her face.

The man tucked the gun away in his pocket. He pulled Valerie’s panties up, replacing them to their original position. He tugged her skirt down past her knees. He dismounted from her ankles and knelt next to her. The dark-haired man gave each of her tits a final squeeze and leaned back against the cabin of the truck. As far as they were concerned nothing happened in the back of the truck.

The two men heard the sound of the truck door being closed and waited. The canvas tarp covering the back of the truck parted and the short man peered inside. He noticed the girl bound and gagged on the floor of the truck.

“She give you any trouble?” the short man asked.

The blonde man shook his head. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Bring her inside,” the short man said, walking away from the truck.

The blonde man stared at Valerie as she regained her strength. She was still gasping for air. Her eyes conveyed a rage and loathing that only a woman who had been molested with a gun could express. She made a mental note to kill these two sick bastards.

The men stepped past Valerie and jumped off the truck. The blonde man reached for Valerie, dragging her toward him. He grabbed her arms, sat her on the edge of the truck, and threw her over his shoulder. He carried her away from the truck, taking extra care in caressing her shapely ass.

Valerie squirmed and grunted as she felt his rough hand on her backside. She lifted her head, observing her location. They were somewhere near the ocean in a deserted section of warehouses. She heard the cries of seagulls and felt the chill of the ocean breeze.

THE END-PART THREE