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"Hey fuck head!" She screamed above the music.

Sam looked up at her surprised.

"I know that youíre going to get fucked one day and when they find you and what youíve been doing up here, theyíre going to string you up to the electric chair and fry your shit for brains!"

Sam stood up and began to laugh. He turned down the music and stalked over to the bed. Ripping off the blanket heíd just laid over her he leered at her strung up body.

"Yeah? Itíll be too late for you to see Bitch!"

"Maybe, but I bet a pretty boy like you gets it up the ass in prison first!"

Samís eyes narrowed at that and she could see sheíd struck a nerve.

"Some big brute is going to rip you a new asshole and Ö and I bet youíll just love it! Cause you really do like it donít you?" She taunted seeing it was having an affect. "Taking it up the ass from men? Sucking menís dicks?" She could see his face get red and his hands balled into fists. "Yeah, youíll love being some manís bitch wonít you? You dick sucker!" He jumped on her and began slapping her about the face.

"Dick Sucker, Dick Sucker!" Sara screeched at him over and over, feeling her own fury push aside the pain from his slaps and punches.

"Shut up Bitch!" He was yelling back at her in a homophobic fury. "Shut the fuck up!" Blood oozed from a split lip and from her nose, she sniffed and continued defiantly.

"Yeah. I bet thatís why you could only do it up the ass? I bet you canít stand women. You couldnít even take it from a real woman. A real woman sitting on you, fucking your cock!" Samís eyes widened in anger, his lips were curled in a snarl.

"Yeah, fuck you bitch! Iíll take it every fucking way. Iíll make you fuck my cock on top or Iíll cut off your fucking tits!" He rolled off her and released her wrist restraints, leaving one arm secured. He un-strapped her ankles only after grabbing his knife from his jacket which hung on a hook on the wall. He stripped off his jeans and massaged his cock into a large erection. Then he grabbed Sara by the hair and pulled her up to a sitting position. He dragged the tip of his knife across her throat, scratching her lightly.

"Iíll fucking slice you open bitch, if you donít do what I tell you. John and his little game can get fucked." Sara felt a shiver of fear wondering if sheíd gone to far. But she was untied, virtually, and Sam was awkwardly lying down on the bed beneath her while still maintaining a hold on her hair and keeping the knife at her throat.

"Sit on it." He hissed. She scrambled over his torso and pushed herself down on his erection which stood straight up from his body. She was wet with cum from John, and Samís cock slid easily inside her. Sam groaned and made grunts of pleasure as he found himself inside the silky wet cunt.

"Fuck it," he ordered pulling her forward over him by the hair and pushing the sharp edge of the blade dangerously against her throat. Sara, with her legs either side of Samís torso began to raise and lower her hips over the staff, squeezing him with all her might. Sam grunted loudly and shut his eyes. Sara noticed his grip loosen slightly on her hair. Her free hand was planted on the mattress, holding her weight up and away from the knife at her throat, as she fucked his lap. His cock was getting big, the full eight or nine inches banging up against her bruised cervix painfully, but she did not relent and continued fucking him quickly.

Sara groaned like she was enjoying it and watched Samís face screw up with pleasure. Her thigh muscles were tense with fatigue and began to seize up with the exertion of fucking on top and in a weird bent over position. She ignored them and continued trying to fuck him harder, rising off him and sinking back onto him, feeling the rough ridges of his cock against her tender opening, drawing him all the way up into her till she could feel his crinkly pubic hair against her pussy lips. Her legs began to feel weak and she needed to shift her position, his hand pulling her head forward and her muscles straining against going forward onto the knife, were beginning to cramp. She gritted her teeth hoping he would be close to coming soon. She tried to fuck him more roughly, gyrating on top of him breathing hard now daly index.

The knife loosened against her neck. His eyes opened sporadically, rolling around in his head. He began to gasp after awhile, just as she had decided she couldnít keep up the pace as fatigued as her body was. As his face screwed up and his eyes shut feeling the cum accumulate in some distant canal in his cock and begin to erupt, his grip on the knife at her throat loosened and sensing her only opportunity Sara seized it from him with her free hand. Distracted by the orgasm coursing through his body, Sam wasnít prepared for what happened. Sara gripped the knife with her free hand and stared down at Samís face, contorted in surprise and fury just at the peak of orgasm sheep stories. For a brief moment she hesitated unsure of what to do then she plunged the sharp blade downwards through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and into his chest. She felt his body convulse with shock as the knife sunk between two ribs. Both of Samís hands grabbed for the knife but before he could snatch it back she had raised and plunged it again and again, stabbing at his chest blindly in a rage, oblivious to the blood that was gushing from the wounds in his chest all over her.

There was a look of amazement and horror on Samís face as he felt the pain and intensity of the stab wounds. The knife had pierced major organs and arteries and his lungs and stomach were filling with blood. He was convulsing, trying to get air movie. Blood poured up his esophagus and his bronchial tubes and dribbled out his mouth. Sara kept stabbing him in the chest, his stomach. She kept stabbing madly even after she felt him go limp and she was sure he was dead. His eyes stared blankly at her with a look of shock on his face.

She felt his cock in her still and in disgust she moved off him. Her whole body was shaking in terror. She stared at all the blood, at the man she had just killed lying on the bed where heíd just raped her again. She still held the bloody knife, her hands were slippery with blood, it covered her arms, it was all over her torso. Blankly she tried to wipe it off on the bed, it was sticky and hot and would not come off. Her head was spinning and she thought she might pass out again.

Unsteadily she knelt on the bed and fumbled with the catch that still secured her left arm to the iron bed head. Panic set in as she anticipated John or Ian arriving back at any moment. She had to take some deep breaths to try and still the shaking in her hand which was preventing her from undoing the restraint. Finally, she managed to coax the restraint off, using her mouth and her right hand. She was free.

Sara glanced wildly around the room spotting her ripped and torn up clothes in a far corner. Samís jeans were by the bed, so she grabbed them instead, pulling them on vhs. She had to roll up the bottoms because they were too long for her. She grabbed his jacket too and pulled it on, zipping it up. She avoided looking at the bloody mess on the bed and searched bleakly for her shoes. When she couldnít find them she grabbed the bloody knife from the bed and bolted out the cabin door without looking back.

Her car was parked behind Johnís Cherokee on the dirt road beside the cabin. With a spark of hope she headed for it hoping to find the keys. It was locked and her keys were nowhere to be seen. She checked the Cherokee next. It was open but no keys. She scanned the interior, opening the glove compartment and folding down the sun visors to check for the key. Nothing. There was no time, too much risk to go back into the cabin to hunt for keys. John probably had his with him and he could be close even now, she couldnít get trapped inside again. Sara scanned the large grassy clearing surrounding the cabin, her heart thudding wildly. She decided she needed to get away as quickly as possible, to put as much space between herself and the cabin. She ran across the clearing entering the pine forest and followed the road down the mountain from within the safety and seclusion of the woods.

With speed borne of terror she ran, slipping and sliding down hill, grabbing the trunks of pine trees to prevent falls. After a few minutes she paused making sure she could still see the road. It wound away to the left directly in front of her. She had to decide whether she should cross it and continue in a straight line or follow it as it wound down the mountain teen bookmarks. Making her decision she scrambled down a steep bank and stepped out onto the road, listening for cars. Suddenly she heard a male voice bellowing her name.

"Sara!" She froze in fear turning towards the direction of the voice and saw John standing at the top of the road with a rifle aimed at her. Her throat constricted and she jerked forward tearing into the woods on the other side of the road just as she heard a loud bang and the sound of a bullet whizzing into the stones of the road behind her. Small saplings snapped and ricocheted around her as she bolted down the hill, her feet slipped on the pine-needle-covered slopes, she had to use her hands to clamber down over boulders. The alpine terrain was thinning out and becoming steeper, more treacherous, and the going was difficult.

"Sara!" It was Johnís voice yelling for her again. He did not seem far away. Her heart thudded unpleasantly in her chest but fear drove her faster down the incline whiteshadow stories. She had lost the road, it had curved away to her left when sheíd crossed over. Now the steepness of the slope seemed to be increasing. She scrambled out of a grove of pines and stopped short of a yawning cliff face right in front of her. It was perhaps 100 meters to the rocky ground below, and too craggy to climb down. She sank to her knees feeling dizzy, looking back over her shoulder worriedly. She thought she could hear movement above her and looked furtively for somewhere to go next. There was a collection of boulders off to her left and she scuttled behind them her pulse thudding, trying to still her breath, trying to decide which way to go.

John was above her, she knew it, if she headed back up the hill to avoid the cliff she could run into him again. She was shaking with fear, but strangely her mind was sharp and focused. A cool breeze drifted up over the lip of the cliff face and stirred her hair. It was so peaceful. She looked out on the valley below. In the distance she could just detect the highway and further what looked like a settlement. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying not to be overwhelmed by the prospect of getting back to reality, of making good her escape.

"Sara!" She heard Johnís voice raised, above her in the trees. He was nearer and he sounded less angry now, less desperate, more calculating. "Sara, thereís nowhere to go. I know these mountains. I will find you." Sara shivered and huddled into the boulders knowing she had to make a decision or he would find her. Collecting what little courage she could find she leaped to her feet and ran low along the edge of the cliff to the left, back towards the road. But her movement on the rocky, crumbling ground disturbed small rocks which tumbled and banged down the cliff face. When she looked back John was behind her at the edge of the pine grove. He had raised his rifle to take aim again, then a bullet hit the ground near her feet. She stifled a cry and scrambled back up into the forest again, away from the cliff back up towards the road. Behind her she could hear him pushing through the undergrowth, chasing her zoophile xxx stories, forums and chatrooms.

Sara emerged on the road and began to run across the open surface, hoping to increase her distance before John could make it back up to the road. To her left the embankment she had clambered down to cross the road had become too steep and rocky to climb back up. On her right the pine forest fell steeply towards the cliff she had just escaped from. The road swept around a sharp left bend ahead of her and disappeared. She picked up her speed, sprinting to clear the bend, her fatigued body protesting. Her lungs heaving with the effort.

As she cleared the bend she was suddenly confronted by a huge tow-truck approaching the bend at a high speed. She froze staring at it bearing down on her, recognizing almost too late that it was going to hit her. She could see the drivers look of shock and surprise. It was Ian. Then she flung herself back against the embankment at the same time the truck involuntarily swerved to miss her. Its tires slid on the gravel road sending it out of control and she watched in horror as it careened off the left-hand side of the road plunging down the steep embankment and smashing into the trunk of a huge pine tree. There was a deadly silence after the crash, like the whole forest held its breath. She crept over to the other side of the road. A large black Doberman was whining and yapping loudly from the front of the truck. She knew it was Rock. She turned and ran, not waiting to find out if Ian had survived the accident.

The road ahead was a long straight slope, perhaps 50 meters until it disappeared around another sharp left-bend. Sara kept glancing backwards and to the side hoping to see if the embankment to her right was negotiable. Her throat was tight and painful from her exertion and she had a stitch growing in one side that was making it hard to run. Our dvdscollection incl. Taboo forum & bbs, zoophilia message boards.

"Sara!" It was Johnís voice yelling, but it wasnít coming from behind, it was coming from above her to her left, high up and in front of her! She kept running trying to scan the rocky slopes ahead. There were a few straggly copses of pines and collections of boulders. Then she saw him, about half way up sliding down from the top, rifle dangling in one hand. She watched him steady himself and pick up the rifle to take aim.

"Donít move." He bellowed. She stopped in her tracks glancing around wildly for somewhere to run and hide. She knew there would be no time, she was too exposed and he was too close and somehow she knew he wouldnít miss this time. "Get on your knees. Now!" He yelled the rifle at his eye, trained on her. Why wouldnít he just shoot her, she wondered staring at him. He couldnít possibly want anything more from her after he saw Sam. She wondered if heíd seen Ianís truck crash. He must have heard it. She stood her ground.

"I said get on your fucking knees bitch, or Iíll shoot your fucking head off." If he wasnít going to shoot her here, would he shoot her later? She didnít think John was into torture like Sam. Why would he wait when he could get it done quickly now? Was he afraid he would miss she wondered furtively. She could see he was moving awkwardly down the jagged hill above, slipping in the loose stones and dirt. She would have to risk it, whether he killed her now or later, she felt like she had the best chance to escape now. She couldnít fathom what would happen if she got captured again. She shivered not wanting to think about being under Johnís control again. "Sara!" His voice was loud and reasoned. "Thereís nowhere to run. Itís a long way down to the bottom and I know this mountain. I will find you, even if you make it down." "Just shoot me then. What are you waiting for?" She half-screamed from where she stood still watching him. Her voice was high pitched, terrified. Her pulse banged in her throat.

This seemed to throw him. Sara could see the uncertainty in his posture, he kept rearranging the position of the rifle. He was hesitating, he didnít want to kill her. In that split second she knew she had a chance, so she moved, ducking and heading for the side of the road. She heard the bullet before she felt it, then it was like a dull stabbing pain that ripped through her leg. She slumped over the side of the road and fell, tumbling and sliding down the embankment into the denser forest grass and pine trees about 12 feet below the road. She lay in pain at the foot of a large pine tree, her face was grazed and bleeding from the fall. She could taste blood in her mouth. Slowly sensation began to return to her arms and legs and she lifted her head painfully realizing she could move. She peered upwards towards the top of the embankment, expecting to see John there, ready to fire again, to end it all personals. But he didnít appear. She waited. Still nothing.

Slowly, like an old person, she raised herself to sitting, gently testing her limbs. She was badly grazed but nothing seemed to be broken. The pain in her right thigh was intense though and when she raised her palm, it was covered with blood. She looked down and saw a bullet hole in the jeans she wore, blood was saturating her clothing. She breathed deeply feeling faint, wondering how much blood she was losing. It didnít look like the wound was gushing blood.

After several minutes John had still not appeared so Sara cautiously began dragging herself back up the slope. The pain from her leg was unbearable but she gritted her teeth and struggled on. The going was difficult because of the loose rocks and the steepness of the slope. When she finally made it to the top and looked carefully over the edge she could see John lying face down on the road. She started and then took a double take. It was really him. He seemed to be lying at an odd angle near the steep bank on the other side of the road. When she was sure he hadnít moved she pulled herself to a hunched over standing position and stumbled across the road to where he lay, clutching her thigh to try and staunch the bleeding.

John was lying on his front with his head turned to one side, his rifle still clutched in his right hand was lying at an odd angle underneath him. He was very still. Sara, in disbelief, nudged him with a toe. A groan escaped and she jumped back realizing he was still alive. She thought quickly and grabbed the butt of the rifle, wrenching it from under him. John twitched and seemed to be regaining consciousness. She backed away from him holding the rifle awkwardly trying to remember how to work it. She pulled the safety off and lodged the butt against her shoulder taking aim.

John was slowly moving to a sitting position, shaking his head. He raised his head which was covered in blood from a bad cut on his forehead, and saw her standing with the gun. He wiped away blood that was dripping into his eye, his face was badly grazed. Heíd obviously slipped and fallen down the slope.

"Sara. Donít be stupid. Give me the gun." Sara laughed. It was a dry, hollow sound. John heard it and felt suddenly chilled.

"What Sara? Are you going to shoot me with it? Unarmed, injured?" He had caught her eye and was trying to stand.

"Donít move John. I swear, donít move or I will kill you," she hissed.

"Come on Sara. You really going to kill a sheriff? How are you going to explain that?"

Sara laughed again. "With your fucking cum, thatís how!" John stared at her, incredulous, silent now.

"Yeah, thatís right you fucking son of a bitch. I wonít have any trouble proving self-defense."

Suddenly John was on his feet coming at her with a look of fury and hatred on his face. Sara didnít hesitate and pulled the trigger. The rifle exploded and she watched as the bullet hit John square in the chest. He looked at her in shock and kept approaching. She fired again. This time it stopped him. She watched him sink to his knees, clutching his chest in disbelief. He looked up at her, his gray eyes registering shock and bewilderment.