=====================================================================
E R O T I C S T O R I E S B Y L I S A A N D S H A R O N
All stories in this archive are the property of the authors. They may
be downloaded and read by private citizens. They are not to be used
by commercial web sites without the author's permission.
-=*=-
(These stories were written for adult entertainment and should not be
accessed by children.)
=====================================================================
Scroll down to view text
Archive name: rachel.txt (gang-rp, violence, murder)
Authors name: Lisa & Sharron (BYMSAP@AOL.com)
Story title : RACHEL
-------------------------------------------------------
© Copyright 1998
This work is copyrighted to the author, with all rights
reserved. -- This work may be archived and displayed on
non-commercial web sites without permission, but please
do not remove the author name or address. Thank you
-------------------------------------------------------
This story is intended for mature, broadminded adults
who enjoy literature containing adult themes, often
involving explicit sex or other subjects not for the
underage or narrow minded. If you fall into either of
the latter two categories, please exit. Thank you.
Rachel's Rape, Rachel's Revenge
by Lisa & Sharon
-The Rape -
The golden, early morning sunshine streamed
through Rachel's window. It warmed her face and slowly
brought her out of the sound sleep she had been in
since the prior night's bout of lovemaking with Greg.
She stirred slightly so as not to wake him, just enough
so she could lie there and look at him sleeping. His
dark eyelashes fluttered slightly as the final chapters
of some dream unfolded in his mind.
As Rachel watched him, again she pondered, could
Greg be the one? Could he be her Mr. Right? She knew
she had never felt like this about anyone else before.
Since they had first met two months prior, he had
always been so good to her. How could she not be
enamored of this handsome, intelligent man sleeping
next to her. He was smart, and certainly he seemed
well off. If it were only not for that gray side.
That part of him she hadn't figured out yet.
Greg could at times seem incredibly cold and
detached, as though his life and actions were merely
a scripted role that he played mechanically. It was
as though the Greg that she thought she knew and loved
didn't really exist. Of course, when he would
occasionally catch her observing him like that he would
smile and reassure her. He had been abused as a child
and sometimes the ghosts came back. Or at least that
was what he said. But somehow all the pieces just
didn't seem to want to fit together.
Finally, the sun was bright enough to awaken
Greg also. He opened his eyes and saw Rachel lying
there watching him. For a split second, it seemed as
though a terrible blackness passed over his features,
but then he smiled at her and gave her a small, good
morning kiss before bouncing out of bed and heading
for the bathroom. As he came back into the room he
asked, "Any plans for the 4th of July weekend?"
"Actually I was going to Idaho." Rachel replied.
"Every year a bunch of girls from college get together
at a ranch there."
Greg was furious with himself that he had not
anticipated this. Rachel had never said anything about
being close to a bunch of old college cunts. These
past several months of priming Rachel would all be
wasted if he didn't think of something fast. Not to
mention the reaction of his buddies. That he didn't
even want to consider. Covering himself quickly, Greg
put on the most disappointed look he could muster and
sat on the bed next to Rachel. "You know hun. I was
kind of hoping that we could do something special. Get
away somewhere. Someplace where I could have you away
from all this."
A quizzical "Huh?" was all Rachel could muster
for a moment. "What did you have in mind?"
"A trip to the mountains, Rach. I've got all
the necessary equipment and I even got an extra sleep-
ing bag for you. I was hoping that this would be a
surprise treat for us. After all, you have complained
that I am not spontaneous enough. Come on hun. It
will be fun. Just throw some socks and jeans and tops
together and let's go. We could leave now. Not even
tell anyone, just our little adventure. Please?"
Maybe it was the little boy please that Greg
threw in at the end that did it, but Rachel melted.
If she was considering the possibility of spending her
life with this man, how could she begrudge him a few
days in the mountains. And the part about being alone
with him did sound appealing.
"OK! Just let me pull a few things together and
let's go. We can have breakfast on the road."
Rachel began flying around the room collecting
her necessary things. In her haste she failed to
notice the smug, self-satisfied look on Greg's face.
Rachel could hear Greg in the kitchen making
himself a cup of coffee as she went into the bathroom
to put on her makeup. Finally satisfied with her
appearance she started to leave, then hesitated and
picked up the phone. The least she could do would be
to let Rebecca know that she wouldn't be there for the
annual gathering.
Becky was disappointed of course, but she knew
the area where Rachel and Greg were headed and knew it
to be beautiful. She knew that Rachel was an exper-
ienced hiker, but she hoped that Greg was up to it as
the area contained many rough and isolated areas. And
she also hoped that Greg was good to her, as Rachel
was truly a very special lady who deserved the best.
They had been hiking for almost three hours.
The views were magnificent, but thus far there had been
few places that would have been conducive to camping.
The nice large flat spots had no water, while the spots
near streams were either too small, too steep, or
otherwise unacceptable. Greg reassured her though that
he knew the perfect spot just a mile or so further up
the trail. Sure enough, about 15 minutes later they
rounded a bend. There Rachel saw a large ledge on the
mountainside nestled under a huge rock overhang. A
small stream splashed down the mountainside adjacent
to the ledge. There were even some trees on the far
side of the ledge to provide shade from the sun. The
spot was perfect! Then Rachel noticed something that
wasn't so perfect. They were not alone! Greg wasn't
the least concerned though, walking right over to the
four other men and immediately laughing and slapping
the men on the back. They looked back at Rachel and
the conversation between the men immediately dropped
in tone. Finally, Greg walked back to where Rachel
stood dumbfounded.
"What the hell is this?" Rachel demanded. "You
said we were going to be alone!"
"Don't worry about them," Greg replied.
"They're old friends of mine. They will be moving on
tomorrow and then you'll have all the time in the
world here."
"And ain't that the truth." Greg muttered
quietly to himself as he carried Rachel's backpack over
towards the trees and began setting up camp. This last
comment Rachel missed as she stood there fuming at this
intrusion on HER special time with Greg.
As the afternoon progressed, little occurred to
improve Rachel's impression of Greg's acquaintances or
her mood in general. She hadn't known it at first, but
there was another gentleman along on the trip. A Mr.
Jim Beam. Mr. Beam also had a number of clones present
and the men were getting louder and more obnoxious as
Mr. Beam made a greater and greater influence on the
bunch. Night fell, and still the men did nothing by
sit around the campfire and drink, smoke, talk sports,
and tell smutty stories about victimized women. Rachel
had dined alone on an MRE from her backpack and was
about to call it a night and retire to her tent. She
was just unzipping the tent when a hand grabbed her
shoulder. She whirled about to see Greg's four buddies
standing there. The drunken, lecherous expressions on
their faces were unmistakable. Greg just sat by the
fire looking over at them.
"Greg!" she cried.
"Relax baby," the tallest of the four said.
"You're gonna have the time of your life!"
With that, the four men grabbed Rachel and
dragged her to a cleared area near the fire. Two men
held her immobile on the ground while the other two
commenced driving tent stakes into the ground and tying
her limbs to them, leaving her spread eagled on the
ground. Her screams for Greg to help her just went
ignored.
"God she's a feisty one," the short dark haired
one said. "Better than that blonde Chuckie brought two
years ago!"
"Greg!" Rachel screamed. "What's going on
here? What's he talking about?"
Greg finally stirred from his seat near the fire
and ambled over to her. Squatting next to her, he said,
"Welcome to the annual get-together of my little group.
We come up here every year and every year it's one
guy's job to bring the entertainment. This year it was
my turn and baby, you're it!"
Rachel groaned, too shocked for the full impact
of Greg's words to filter through. "Say hi to Mike,
Steve, Chuckie, and Ace," Greg said, gesturing in turn
to the tall blonde, the short dark-haired fellow, a
rotund blob of a man, and a Neanderthal of short
stature and lower intellect.
"Greg!" Rachel pleaded. "I thought you loved me!"
"You thought what you wanted to think!" he
sneered and walked away.
Since Greg had been intimate with Rachel a
number of times, her body didn't have the same
fascination to him that it did to the other four.
Accordingly, he figured he would let them have the
first go at her. That was also consistent with an
unwritten code of the group which said that the guy
who had brought the entertainment would let the others
have first crack at her. And Greg's buddies were
wasting no time. While Greg had been talking to
Rachel, they had all stripped and were now crowded
around her, running their hands over her body, mauling
her breasts, squeezing her crotch. When Rachel
started to scream and jerk away from them, Mike pulled
back his right hand and backhanded her across the face.
"Shut up ya stupid bitch! This can be even harder
than it has to be if you want it that way!"
Rachel's head reeled from the force of the
blow. While she fought to stop her head from
swimming, she became aware that all four men had
produced knives and were proceeding to slowly and
methodically cut the clothes away from her body.
Her shirt and slacks were the first to go. Lying
there clad only in her red lacy bra and matching
panties (a special set she had bought to please
Greg), Rachel was a sight that under other cir-
cumstances would have aroused a priest. But right
now, the only effect was to further inflame the
lust of the four drunken pigs surrounding her.
They were now free to fondle the exposed flesh of
her arms, her stomach, her legs. They grabbed at
her breasts and genitals feeling the heat of her
flesh through the thin fabric. A swift knife slice
by one of the men deftly removed her bra, while
another grabbed her panties in his hand and ripped
them away. That some pubic hair was caught in his
grasp at the time mattered not to the man, and Rachel
screamed as a patch of her hair was ripped out by
the roots.
"Damn it! I told you to shut up!", Mike yelled.
Grabbing a camp shovel he hit Rachel against the side
of her head. This time though, Rachel tasted blood
and, as her head cleared, felt the teeth that had been
knocked out from the blow.
The nightmare that had overtaken her finally
registered fully with Rachel, and she began to scream
and to try and jerk herself free somehow. Her scream-
ing though was more a gurgle as the blood from her
smashed jaw choked her. In a somewhat sissified voice,
Chuckie started to whine. "She's giving me a headache.
And it's no fun listening to her like that."
With that, Chuckie grabbed her ruined panties
and stuffed them into her mouth. Then, cutting a pant
leg from her slacks, he tied the panties into place.
Rachel was sufficiently gagged that Chuckie was spared
any exacerbation of his headache. The gag was also
almost completely cutting off Rachel's air supply.
Taking his knife, Chuckie ran the edge of the
blade over Rachel's left nipple slicing it in two.
"That will teach you big mouth!" The other three
thought that was hilarious as her muffed screams
filtered through the gag and she twisted and jerked
against her bonds.
"Now how am I gonna get my dick sucked?" Ace
complained. "Ya covered her mouth!"
'Forget the blowjob!" Steve commanded.
"Remember that little bitch last year who almost bit
your dick off?
Despite Greg's earlier explanation, it somehow
truly registered with Rachel that she was not the first
to undergo torture and humiliation at the hands of
these men. There had been other women who had under-
gone what she was experiencing now. Who were they, she
wondered. And what happened to them?
Foregoing his blowjob, Ace climbed between
Rachel's thighs and after positioning the head of his
cock at the entrance to her pussy shoved foreword with
all his strength. In the complete absence of any
lubricating fluid to ease the entrance of Ace's
monster, the thick dick felt like coarse sandpaper
ripping into her tender flesh . Pain like she had
never felt before tore through her vagina. Rachel
tried to scream, but the panties stuffed into her
mouth successfully muffled her cries so that all that
was heard were her moans. But there was no mistaking
the agony that was etched on her face. Every muscle
in her body was taut as though somehow that might
ease the horror that her body was experiencing.
Wasting no time, Ace rammed his cock in and out of
Rachel's tormented body. With typical Neanderthal
efficiency, Ace promptly came and pulled out of her.
"Sloppy seconds!" Steve cried as he leapt into
the space just vacated by Ace. As crudely and abruptly
as Ace, Steve shoved the length of his dick into
Rachel's cunt. Whether because his dick was smaller,
or the combination of Ace's cum and her own blood
served as a form of lubricant, this second penetration
was far less agonizing than the first. But Steve's
equipment was decidedly longer than Ace's, and as it
hit home Rachel could feel new waves of pain from deep
within her abused body.
After Steve came Mike who solidly pushed Chuckie
aside to be the third to fuck Rachel. Chuckie stood
there crabbing at Mike about how he had been next until
Mike too satisfied himself. As he gleefully began to
take his turn with Rachel, Chuckie's pathetic humping
would have been humorous, even ludicrous, under other
conditions. To Rachel though one violation was fast
becoming much like another. The pain prevented any
differentiation between the cocks that tore and pounded
within her.
After the four men had each raped her once, they
retired to the fire for a rest and further consultation
with Mr. Beam. Rachel lay there, still bound and
spread legged, quietly sobbing and praying that it was
over.
It wasn't. And the worst was yet to come.
After a brief respite, the men returned. This
time Greg was with them. The initial arousal created
by the availability of fresh meat had been spent. The
men needed something more to excite them. That some-
thing they sought in new and obscene affronts against
Rachel's tormented body.
It began with Steve grabbing Rachel's uninjured
nipple and his lifting her body off the ground with it.
Her nipples, always sensitive, sent new forms of pain
rocketing through her. Abruptly releasing her, her
body crashed back to Earth. Mike took the camp shovel
again and again bashed it against the side of Rachel's
head, this time on the other side or her head, next to
her eye. He chanted, "Wakey, wakey! Time for more
fun!" Chuckie, who had taken several extra swallows
of whiskey to work himself up, crashed down on her
chest, his fat, pasty white ass crushing her breasts
and driving the air from her lungs. He pinned her
shoulders down with his knees and with his pudgy fists
began flailing away at Rachel's face. All the while
he swore at her and vented on her innocent form every
insult, repulse, and degradation he felt he had ever
experienced at the hands of a woman. And given his
obese body, troll-like appearance, nasal voice, and
disgusting personality, Chuckie's perceived list was
a long one!
How Rachel didn't suffocate is a mystery as she
was still bound by the gag and Chuckie's blows had
served to fracture her nose. The bleeding from her
jaw intensified and she truly would have drowned in
her own blood had not Greg cut the pant leg and removed
her gag. Pity had no part in his action though as he
snarled, "Can't have you dying on us yet!"
Mike had climbed atop her and was busily pumping
his organ into Rachel's body when Greg sliced the ropes
binding Rachel's legs. "Roll on your side," he com-
manded Mike, and he snuggled into place behind Rachel.
"Now for what the prissy bitch didn't want to
give!"
Greg thrust his dick against the tight sphincter
of Rachel's ass. Never had she been taken back there.
She hadn't even especially cared for anal stimulation,
so the muscle of her orifice was quite tight. Greg
wasn't to be denied though and continued to push his
penis against the firmly resisting ring of Rachel's
puckered asshole. Eventually, shear force began to
win out and the tight ring began to rip open. Once
started, Greg's passage into Rachel's bowel became
swifter. The muscle's resistance failed and Rachel
felt her anus rip wide as Greg's erection plowed into
her colon. If Ace's initial penetration of her dry
pussy had been agony, this violation of her virgin
asshole was a thousand times worse! Even the agonies
already inflicted on her tortured body couldn't lessen
the pain of this latest violation. Wedged as she was
between Greg and Mike, she couldn't even move.
Ace meanwhile, noticed that her gag had been
removed, and seized the opportunity to stuff his cock
into her mouth. He began to hump frantically at her
face. Though her involuntary gag reflex triggered each
time Ace rammed his monster down her throat, Rachel was
only dimly aware of it. Some time during the process,
she heard Greg groan as he came in her butt and felt
his cock replaced in her asshole, but by who she had
no idea. Mike jerked his completion in her pussy and
this cock too was also promptly replaced, but Rachel
was beyond caring. Sometime during this repeated
assault on her body she passed out.
Pain! That was the first thing Rachel became
aware of. Pain. Pain in every part of her body. Pain
over every inch of her body. The only place that
didn't hurt were the soles of her feet. When the men
had stripped her, taking her shoes off was just a waste
of time. So now, the absence of pain there made it
more acute everywhere else. She tried to open her eyes,
but couldn't. She tried to move, but couldn't. And
with that she passed out again.
When she regained consciousness again, the sun
was just trying to lift itself over the horizon. The
thought of another sunrise came to her and for a moment
she forgot about the intervening period. But then she
tried to move and the realization came back to her in
force. She could see slightly out of one eye, nothing
out of the other. She was able to ascertain that she
was lying in the dirt on the side of a steep slope.
How long she had been there was a mystery.
As she lay there attempting to gather her
strength, she surmised what had happened. The men,
having had their fun, had thrown her down the side
of the mountain to die. Though part of her cried
out for the sweet release of death, a more primal
part refused to surrender. She slowly lifted her
head and looked about her. And would have screamed
if her voice had permitted it! Inches away from her
head, staring back at her, was a human skull! So
this had been the fate of the other girls who had
experienced these men and their company. Once used
they were tossed away like trash! She might die yet,
but it would not be lying here. That was what THEY
wanted!
Inch by slow inch Rachel began to work her way
up the slope. It was sufficiently steep that any
attempt to do more than inch along on her belly would
cause her to slide backwards. She once looked backward
and realized the slope she was resting on ended a mere
three feet beyond her. It then plummeted straight down
over 1000 feet. The skeleton beside her had been
halted by a sharp root that had pierced the ribcage.
She could only assume that it had been providence that
had stopped her death plunge. The men had apparently
counted on the drop, and the rapids far below, to
eliminate any evidence of their partying. Certainly
they had never taken the risk to descend and ascertain
that their prior lovemates had indeed gone the route
intended.
It was nightfall by the time Rachel had regained
the security of the ledge that had been the campsite.
Though she had tried, she still had no idea how many
days and nights it had been since her ordeal here. The
men and all traces of the camp were gone. All save two
items that somehow she noticed under a bush. The MRE
container from her last meal, and her wallet. Both
must have slipped unnoticed from her backpack when the
men had left the area. That she, in her brutalized
state might notice these items when five men had missed
them could again only be providence. She had survived
for a reason. And that reason was to prevent what
happened to her from ever happening again.
Rachel stumbled over to the stream that raced
down the mountainside. Though the cold water was agony
to her injured mouth, she forced herself to drink. She
then crumpled into a small heap next to a little tree
and slept until morning.
When Rachel awake, she still felt the pain
throughout her body. It was accompanied now by muscle
stiffness from her exertions scaling the slope and her
sleeping nude on the ground. But somewhere, deep
within, she felt the fire of life burning more strongly.
She picked a few crumbs from the MRE container and
allowed them to dissolve slowly in her tortured mouth.
Picking up the wallet she began slowly, ever so slowly,
retracing her way back down the mountain. After only
a few steps she realized that her leg or ankle must be
broken as each step was excruciating. A piece of tree
branch sufficed as a crutch, although the difficulty
she had holding it suggested more broken bones in her
hands and arms. Also, she could barely breathe through
her broken nose and smashed mouth, and when she did the
pain in her chest clearly spoke of broken ribs. Her
skin had been badly burned by her exposure to the sun.
In the midst of her agony, she almost found humor in
her mental image of herself: a bashed and bruised naked
woman prepared to take on the world with her American
Express Card! That ludicrous image was enough to get
her through the endless hell that was the trip down
the mountain.
It was approximately 10PM when Rachel finally
reached the trailhead. As she expected, the area was
totally deserted. But there was a phone and she had
her calling card! The only person she thought of
calling was Rebecca. Since Rachel had no idea of how
much time had passed while she was on the mountain,
she had no idea exactly where any of her other friends
might be. And she did not particularly want to call
the authorities. Not like this. But Becky stayed
at her Idaho ranch all summer. She'd be there!
Becky picked up the phone on the third ring,
wondering who in the hell would be calling at this
hour. "Hello?"
The pitiful voice on the phone was trying to
say, "Becky. It's Rachel." The sound that came
through though was more like, "Ehy. Iss Asel". But
somehow Becky knew! "Rach?" "Is that you?"
"Yesss".
"Oh Baby! Are you in trouble?"
"Yesss"
"Where are you?"
The attempt at, "At the trailhead," came out
"Aah ha hai hea."
"Listen baby," Rebecca said. "It sounds like
you can't talk, but if you can call back in 5 minutes
I'll have the call traced. Then I'll know exactly
where you are and I can come get you. If that's OK,
then just tap the receiver twice."
Click. Click
"OK hun. I'm hanging up now. Call me back in
5 minutes!"
As soon as she hung up the phone from talking to
Rachel, Becky buzzed the extension of Frank, the man in
charge of security for the family compound. When
Rachel called back, Frank immediately began the trace.
Within minutes he had the location of the phone and
passed the information to Becky.
"It's OK baby. We know where you are. We'll
pick you up at dawn."
"Oh hay"(OK), came the pitiful response from the
other end.
Becky immediately began making plans with
Samantha, the family pilot, to rescue Rachel, thanking
God the whole while that her family had the money and
resources that permitted her to help Rachel in this,
her hour of need.
Shortly after dawn, Rachel heard the sounds of
a helicopter echoing through the canyon. A few minutes
later, the helicopter was overhead and settled down in
the trailhead parking lot. Before it had even fully
touched down, Rebecca was out of the craft, racing
around the area screaming, "Rachel! Rachel!" She was
hardly prepared though for the sight that greeted her
as Rachel hobbled toward her. The sickening twist of
Rachel's left arm clearly indicated a fracture. Her
torso was covered with blood, from the nipple that had
been mutilated, and from the other breast which had
been sliced open. Rachel's jaw appeared to have been
smashed and the sick oozing of her eye did not bode
well for her vision. Rebecca half helped, half carried,
Rachel back to the helicopter and within minutes they
were in the air. Rachel clung to Becky and kept
pleading through her smashed mouth, "No Hoshial!"
Becky knew that medically a hospital was the best thing
for her friend, but she also knew that at the moment
Rachel's greater need was emotional. So as the heli-
copter headed back to the ranch, Becky radioed ahead
to have a medical staff standing by. The rest of the
flight she spent cradling Rachel in her arms and mur-
muring gentle little nothings to her. It was only
after they had landed and the medical staff had taken
over Rachel's care that Becky began to wretch and
vomit, trying to purge from her system the pain and
horror that she had seen in Rachel's eyes, as well as
her own disgust at what had been done to her friend.
It was Becky's usual routine to go back to the
city at the end of the summer. Not this year though.
It was five months before the doctor would let Rachel
out of bed. He still hadn't figured out why she was
still alive when any of a multitude of things should
have killed her. The broken bones in her arm, her leg,
and her ankle had all been set. Her broken ribs
treated. Her jaw was treated to the extent that it
could, but it was still misshapen. Her eye was beyond
saving though, and the side of her head still had a
pushed in look. The sunburn that had blistered most
of her body had healed, but had left horrible scars
over most of her body. When she finally could get out
of bed and walk around, the best she could manage was
an exaggerated shuffle. Apparently her fall down the
mountain side had damaged the hip joint. After several
months, when Rachel had finally asked for a mirror, she
had just stared at it briefly and then handed it back
to Becky without any expression whatsoever.
The time eventually came when there was no more
the doctor could do for Rachel. Cosmetic surgery could
help her face some and reduce the impact of the scars,
but it couldn't remove them. Nothing could replace the
sight in her left eye. Indeed, it had been so badly
damaged that the doctor had been forced to remove the
eye and replace it with a prosthesis. As the months
passed and Rachel slowly recovered her strength, Becky
remained with her, helping in whatever way she could.
Rachel never spoke of what had happened, and Becky
never asked.
-The Revenge -
It was a day in late March, the kind where you
can feel in the air that although it may not be warm,
winter's grip on the land has definitely been broken.
Becky was sitting in the study reading when Rachel
limped into the room and sat down across from her.
"Becky," she began. "I've never told you what
happened, but now it is time". Rebecca closed the book
in her lap and listened attentively to her friend.
Slowly, and with great difficulty, Rachel recounted her
experiences on the mountain. Throughout Rachel's
discourse, Rebecca sat quietly and unmoving, though the
tears rolled silently down her cheeks.
As Rachel's recounting ended, Rachel concluded,
"I had thought I loved Greg. I had even thought that
maybe we would get married. But he had been using me.
Maneuvering me so that he could get me up on that
mountain. Something for he and his friends to use and
throw away. This was not the first time those men had
done this. For I don't know how many other years they
have been luring women to that mountain, raping and
torturing them, and killing them. I don't know how or
why I didn't die, but I didn't. And I can't let them
do what they did ever again. Becky, you have been so
good to me. You've done everything and anything you
could to help me. You have been so loving and gen-
erous that I hate to ask, but I have to. Becky, help
me. Help me stop them."
Rebecca looked her friend through her tears and
nodded.
In the months that followed, Frank introduced
Rebecca and Rachel to Marsha. Marsha, he said, was
now in the security business like himself, but that
she had been known to undertake other tasks when called
upon. Marsha, he said, was just the person they needed.
Truer words were never spoken. Within weeks
Marsha had complete files on each of the men. And had
discovered that lately Steve had been going out with a
new girlfriend! Marsha poured over dozens of photos of
the mountain and the ledge area, topographic maps of
the entire region, and whatever geologic studies had
been done on the area. Finally it was time to lay out
her plan for Becky and Rachel.
Marsha outlined that she and a team of her
choosing would proceed up the mountain and 'interrupt'
the men when they had assembled there, but before they
could hurt anyone else. Once the men had been dealt
with, the rock overhang would be blasted loose. Any
evidence would be buried under tons of rock in an
apparent landslide.
The plan was simple and straightforward, and was
immediately accepted. Becky had no desire to be a
direct part of it, saying that she would stay at the
ranch and host the annual get together of their college
chums. Under the circumstances, she felt that she
should do whatever she could do to maintain the facade
of normalcy. Rachel though made it very clear that
she intended to go. Marsha would normally have pro-
tested given Rachel's physical limitations, but knowing
Rachel's stake in this, she acceded to Rachel's demand.
Rachel also wanted to go as she knew that she
could never appear before her old friends as she was
now. Of course they would have understood, and they
would be sympathetic, but the thought of them pitying
her was more than she could stand. She knew in her
heart that apart from Becky, she could never be close
to anyone again. That her experience on the mountain
had ripped her away from the rest of humanity.
July 3rd found Marsha's squad moving up the
mountain. In addition to Marsha and Rachel, there
were four other women, each armed with an automatic
pistol, and a fifth woman, unarmed, but carrying a
backpack filled with explosives. Marsha had a sawed
off shotgun strapped to her pack and a sidearm. All
the women carried knives, though from the little
Rachel had observed of their 'limbering up' exercises
the past several mornings, each was quite capable of
defending herself without any weapon at all. Their
surveillance had confirmed three of the men going up
the mountain the day before, and the other two going
up separately earlier today. Along with the three
men yesterday was a fourth, identified from Marsha's
investigation as Jim, Mike's brother. Steve had
been the last one heading up today. And as expected,
he had been accompanied by a young woman.
About two miles before reaching 'the ledge',
Marsha's explosives expert angled off the trail. She
had some serious ground to cover if she was to reach
her destination and complete her assignment in the
time remaining her. The rest of the party pushed on.
Marsha and her team moved easily, and Rachel struggled
to keep up with them. But keep up she did and never
did she complain or ask for any special consideration.
Finally they had reached the bend in the trail
that told them that the clearing and their quarry were
just ahead. They could hear the mens' voices already
slurred by the effects of alcohol. Marsha and Rachel
slipped back into the woods under cover, should for
any reason one of the men backtrack down the trail.
The other four women moved off silently down the side
of the mountain. It was their task to work their way
around the campsite so that when Marsha made her move,
they could appear from over the edge of the landing
thus surprising and surrounding the men.
Night fell and the moment was nearly at hand.
All members of the team had radioed back to Marsha
that they were in position. The rock overhang had
been prepared and awaited only the triggering of the
remote detonator Marsha carried in her pack. All was
in readiness. Marsha began to move forward. In the
shadows she was invisible, the mens' night vision
effectively destroyed by the brightness of their
campfire. Rachel would hang back until her time was
right.
"Well, well! Time for some fun!"
The words coming from the camp seemed to Rachel
as though directed at her and not the young thing
sitting huddled at the edge of this group of drunken
brutes. The group, which had 5 members this year,
included Greg and now Jim. Steve, as per past arrange-
ment, kept his vigil by the fire. A scream pierced the
night as the men grabbed the girl and began dragging
her over near the fire. Over to that same spot where
a year before these same men had destroyed Rachel's
life.
Just as the men were throwing the girl to the
ground, Marsha's shotgun exploded. "I think that is
just about enough of that!" she said. "All of you
just kneel down where you are, cross your ankles, and
put your hands on top of your head!"
"Fuck you!" swore Mike as the men pulled their
knives. Steve, by the fire, rose to his feet with a
hatchet in his hand. "There's only one of you and you
can't get all of us!"
Marsha said just one word, "Girls", and with
that the four women who had crept up behind the men
from their hiding spots on the mountainside cocked
their automatic weapons. The men heard the sounds
behind them, and upon observing the guns trained on
them, dropped their weapons and began to assume the
position Marsha had dictated. Marsha's team immedi-
ately began to move, kicking away the mens' weapons
and binding their hands and feet. In a matter of
moments, the men were neatly trussed up like pigs on
their way to the slaughter, which of course they were.
"Honey," Marsha said to the young girl as she
helped her up. "You have no idea of what almost hap-
pened to you."
"Nothing was going to happen!" Greg said. "We
were just fooling around a little. You know, gonna
give her a little scare, that's all."
"Of course that's all baby!" Steve pleaded with
the girl. "You know I would never hurt you."
"Is that right?" came a voice from the shadows.
The men stared into the darkness as they tried
to pick out the person from whom the question had come.
They soon saw a figure slowly moving out from the
bushes and into the clearing.
"Remember me Greg?" asked Rachel. Greg stared
at her blankly and then his mouth slowly dropped open
in disbelief. "Oh shit!" was the quiet comment from
one of the other men.
"I was in your place a year ago." Rachel said
to the girl as she walked towards the fire. "And this
is what I am now." The scars, the crooked jaw, the
distorted head, the blind eye, all screamed out their
testimony as to what Rachel had endured and what might
have been this girl's fate as well. "They left me to
die. Just like they had left other girls before me.
They assumed I would die. But I didn't. And now you
won't either." With that, one of Marsha's team
detached herself and began to escort the girl out of
the clearing and back down the trail.
Chuckie began sobbing.
"I wasn't there!" pleaded Jim. "I didn't do
anything!"
"No you weren't there. But you would have
willingly done to her what your friends did to me.
But since you weren't there and were not a part of
what happened to me, then you will not share the same
fate as them." Rachel said, gesturing with her head
towards the other men. So with that, she took the
Marsha's sidearm , walked over to Jim, and shot him
in the head. A mist of blood and brain exploded out
the back of Jim's head covering Chuckie who began to
cry even more.
Despite his bonds, Steve managed to struggle
to his feet. "Uh Uh," one of Marsha's team whispered,
and quickly swept her knife across the back of Steve's
knees slicing the tendons. Steve crumpled to the
ground. The team immediately moved to ensure that
the rest of the men were appropriately immobilized.
"You wanted to be first." Rachel said to Ace as
she walked over to him picking up Marsha's shotgun as
she went. "Well, you get to be first again." With
that she discharged a shotgun round into Ace's crotch.
Ace lay there gurgling as he felt his life's blood slip
away.
"And you like to hit people with shovels." she
said to Mike. "Well, I can hit back." Rachel picked
up Steve's hatchet from the ground and with the blunt
end hammered it sharply into Mike's balls. Just in
case the first blow hadn't sufficed, Rachel repeated
it two more times, transforming Mike's testicles into
red mush in the process. As Mike lay there screaming,
Rachel turned the hatchet around in her hand, and, with
his eyes locked on hers she buried the blade end in
Mike's throat.
Steve was already weakened by the blood loss
from his leg wounds, and so was only able to look up
at Rachel as she came to him. "You people blinded me.
An eye for an eye!" she said as she rammed the point
of Steve's own knife into his eye. Steve shuddered
for a few moments and then died.
"You wanted to carve me up like a Thanksgiving
turkey," Rachel said to Chuckie as she knelt down next
to him. "Well, I'm going to carve a ham." Rachel
reached across Chuckie's chest and drew her knife
across his flabby breasts. Tears were rolling down
his face as he screamed and cried. "Christ!" she
uttered. "You're no man! Why should you impersonate
one?" With that she loosened his trousers, pulled down
his pants, and sliced away his manhood. As Chuckie lay
there screaming, Rachel said to him, "That screaming is
giving me a headache!" Accordingly, she stuffed his
cock and balls into his mouth and let Chuckie die
bleeding profusely and choking on himself.
"Greggie, Greggie, Greggie!" she muttered as
she strolled over to her last victim. "I loved you.
I trusted you. And you betrayed me. You lied to me.
All your sweet words were empty. You really shouldn't
say things you don't mean, you know!" Rachel sat down
on Greg's chest and sealed her hand over his mouth
while pinching his nostrils together. Greg's eyes
began to bulge and his head began to thrash as the
need for oxygen grew within. When he was right on the
threshold of suffocating, Rachel let go of him. While
Greg desperately gasped for breath, Rachel reached
down, grabbed his tongue firmly, pulled it toward her,
and neatly sliced off half of it. "Now you won't lie
to anyone anymore." she said calmly. She then began
to remove his trousers. "Oh Greggie! Don't worry!
You're not going to get Chuckie's treatment. I just
remember how much you like anal sex!" Rachel posi-
tioned the barrel of the shotgun at Greg's anus, and
shoved it as hard as she could. Greg's head rolled
and he moaned as the cold steel raped his bowels.
"Isn't that nice?" Rachel asked as she pumped the
shotgun vigorously in and out of Greg's ass. "Don't
you just love that! And it gets better and better
until you feel you could just explode!" As the
meaning of her words struck him and he looked at her
in terror, Rachel pulled the trigger. Greg's insides
exploded through his chest.
The silence was overwhelming. Rachel's year
of pain and suffering was drained away. Any motivation
or direction she had was gone. She had destroyed those
who had destroyed her and now there was nothing left.
"Let's go Rachel." Marsha said. "Better get
moving."
"You and your team go. I'm not leaving."
"Don't give me that!" Marsha started to say as
she reached for Rachel. She stopped though when she
saw the bloody barrel of her own shotgun pointed at
her. Her team hesitated. They would without hesita-
tion kill to save the life of their leader, but this
situation was crazy.
"Marsha," Rachel began. " I couldn't have done
this without you and your team. But your job is done
and mine isn't. There's no need for you to be a part
of any more of this." And with that Rachel opened her
left hand revealing the remote detonator she had
removed from Marsha's pack.
Marsha looked into Rachel's eyes and understood.
"Move out!" she instructed her team and they began to
walk back down the trail. Rachel was left alone in the
darkness. For some time she sat pondering the billions
of stars overhead and tried to comprehend just how she
had come to this point. In the distance she could see
a storm front moving towards her. As the sky clouded
and the approaching storm slowly made its was towards
her, she could hear the storm's thunder echoing through
the canyons. It was appropriate somehow. The thunder
would mask other sounds, and the summer rain somehow
seemed to be nature cleansing herself of the filth that
had been perpetrated on the mountain. Finally, as she
felt the first drops of rain splash against her face,
Rachel looked up at the rock overhang and pressed the
red button on the small box in her hand. All along
the base of the overhang she could see flashes of light
as the charges detonated. One, two, three, four, five,
six, seven, eight, nine, ten. She could see the entire
face of the overhang begin to slide downward just about
the time the sound of the explosions reached her.
Thunder and lightning crashed about her as the storm
replied. As she watched more and more of the
mountain's face begin to give way and slide downward,
Rachel placed the barrel of Marsha's gun to her temple
and pulled the trigger.
- The End -
(We hope you have enjoyed this, our seventh effort.
We welcome comments and suggestions from our readers.
You can write us at: BYMSAP@AOL.com. L&S)
_____________________________________________________
Kristen's collection - Directory 8 - Text 8537