Message-ID: <3424eli$9708281051@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Francis Dashwood Subject: Lauren Gisal Book 2 Chapter 45-46 of 59 (ff/mf/Ff/Mf/inc,cons,nc) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <199708272344.RAA10176@shaman.lycaeum.org> Lauren Gisal Volume Two The following fiction portrays events that will be considered offensive to some people. Graphic scenes are described of sexual intercourse by teenagers, adults, with and without their consent. Later chapters deal with punishment. If you are offended by such material, or if you are considered a minor in your country, then delete this file. The author hereby permits the redistribution of the attached material on the understanding that it is not for financial gain and it is credited to the author, Francis Dashwood. Please do not request reposts of this material. Constructive criticism is welcomed. Chapter 45 Four days later, Lauren was fit enough to bathe and feed herself. She could walk around the house unaided, but always made sure she was within striking distance of something to hold onto if she became dizzy. She ventured out onto the remains of the patio, peering down into the rounded hole that had been the pool. The familiar heat remained, but the soothing waters had vanished. She sat in her shorts and T-Shirt on the lounger and surveyed her bruised limbs and the scene of damage. Without knowing anything about ordinance and explosives, she concluded that the pool had taken a direct hit. That had probably saved them, for another ten feet nearer the house would have been a completely different outcome. In the late afternoon, they decided to venture out of the house and walked cautiously down the road towards Boquette. Traffic was minimal, but some private cars and a few farm vehicles passed them, reassuring the children by their presence and by the fact that while they were still loaded with refugees and possessions, there appeared to be an orderly manner about their flight. Lauren looked nervously around her as they passed the first crossroads, watching for soldiers. Over the six days since the attack she had frequently revisited her ordeal, analysing it from every perspective to see what she could have done differently. Emma's ability to laugh off the bomb annoyed her as it interfered with her reasoning for remaining as quiet as possible during the rape. The day before, she had considered narrating to Emma those early morning hours, her embarrassment, her fears for the children and the pain she had endured, arms stretched out, legs tethered on the wooden piano stool. Finally, she decided that there was little to be gained by reopening the issue except her own satisfaction and so she tried hard to adopt the same attitude as the others. Both Emma and Jamie seemed to walk with a spring in their step and laughter in their voices as she trailed behind. "Hey, we've gone far enough I think!" said Jamie, turning around to face the others. "Back to the house, and get the car, eh?" "Yeah, the place is really quiet!" said Emma. "I'm not sure, perhaps a few more minutes until we see Boquette town center?" "No, come on, let's grab the car and then get to a phone" said Jamie, taking the lead in the opposite direction. Lauren glumly followed, shuffling back to the house and hauling herself painfully into the driving seat. They traveled in silence, looking at everything that moved, checking side streets for activity that might alert them to soldiers or other danger. After a thirty minute queue for the phone in the Post Office Lauren dialed her parents in Switzerland without a thought for the time in Europe. A recorded message in Spanish greeted every attempt she made. Handing the phone to Jamie, she watched as his face betrayed the problem. "All international lines are busy. Please try later." he said, offering her the handset. "Shit." said Lauren. A flash of inspiration made her smile. "Look up the Swiss Embassy in San Falino!" They thumbed through the directory, oblivious to the stares and scowls from those behind them in the queue. She spoke rapidly to the woman on the other end, explaining she was Swiss and needed to inform her parents that she was safe. She gave them their number in Andelberg and grinned broadly as she replaced the phone. "OK?" asked Jamie. "Yeah! Wow, that feels so good - to talk to someone from Switzerland. They even sounded like they came from around our way." Her thoughts were suddenly thousands of miles away, across the Atlantic, over France and tumbling down the white-capped mountains of the Jungfrau. Even the jostling of the crowd failed to bring her back as she clung to the happy scene, her parents and brother sitting at the dining room table eating Sunday lunch. The return journey was uneventful. Jamie read the local paper, paraphrasing some of the articles that suggested that the fight between the Nationalists and Government troops had only just begun. To their delight, they heard the sound of the fridge gurgling noisily as they entered the front door. Jamie opened the fuse box and reset most of the breakers, earning a cheer each time something of interest came to life. After tea and hot baths all round, they met in the kitchen to decide what to do next. Lauren set out her plan - conceived three minutes before they sat down - suggesting they drive to San Falino and wait for evacuation to Switzerland. Jamie agreed, but thought train would be safer so that they blended in more easily. Emma sat on her seat, arms wrapped around her knees pulled tight up against her chest. Lauren recognised her mood. Uncommunicative, sultry to the point of stubbornness. The little girl emerging in the suddenly adult world. Eventually, Lauren coaxed out of her that she really didn't care what happened. Compromise was reached quickly, and the children decided that Jamie's idea was the safest, and so at around ten o'clock the next morning, they shut the house once again and drove down to the station, parking the car in a side street. Jamie removed the distributor arm and stuffed it in his pocket, pleased to demonstrate his knowledge of the workings of a car. With one large suitcase each, they trudged to the station foyer, purchased single tickets to the capital and crossed the old rusted iron bridge to the other side. The sun shone mercilessly once again. Her T-Shirt was damp with sweat even though she had untucked it from her shorts. Emma and Jamie fared similarly, Emma complaining regularly of the heat and asking why they had to leave at all. Lauren had known the answer to the question the previous evening, but it escaped her now. An hour later, and forty minutes late, the great grey hulk of the train pulled into the station, steam billowing from the mighty pistons. Lauren felt the heat of the massive boiler on her face as it passed her, the stack spewing clouds of dark smoke that wafted down towards the platform. She was reminded of the film where someone ran alongside a steam train, waving good-bye romantically. Casablanca, she thought, but maybe not. Certainly black and white. The carriages squealed to a halt, juddering along their length. Soldiers dropped to the platform, standing guard and passengers and troops disembarked. Lauren averted her gaze, dreading recognition by one of the soldiers who had featured in her ordeal, hustling Jamie and Emma aboard. The three children clambered in and walked along the carriage, taking the first compartment that was empty. Jamie pushed their suitcases onto the overhead rack and they slumped onto the seats, smiling broadly that they had so far been successful. Almost immediately they heard the whistle from the guards and shouting from the platform. The train shuddered again as the huge wheels turned, pulling out of Boquette and headed southwards. "Does it always go this slow?" asked Lauren. "Yep, about twenty miles an hour. This engine is probably imported from Europe when they electrified." Lauren was pleased they had a compartment to themselves. It could seat about eight she thought, and maybe they would have to let others in as they got closer to the capital, but the privacy was appreciated. She stood and pulled down the blinds to the corridor before standing on the seat and reaching into her suitcase for a can of fizzy orange. She sat opposite Emma and Jamie with her back to the engine, watching as the ramshackle houses disappeared in the distance. The railway track was strewn with debris - not from military action, but old oil drums, bottles, litter, domestic rubbish and parts of old cars. The junk has discoloured, turning a more complete grey with the passing of each train. Houses jostled for position against the tracks, squalid two floor tenements with access to the top floor by rickety staircases. Paint peeled around the window frames, creating jagged edges, cutting the dim light that shone hopefully from within. Occasionally, children waved, foraging in the muck, accompanied by thin dogs or huge mothers, barefoot, dirty. Ringing bells rose to a crescendo as they rattled over a crossing. Lauren watched the cars lined up waiting along the street, water flowing along the gutter as pedestrians stumbled around the potholes. The stench of the sewer greeted her head-on, making her shudder. She lowered the window slightly, the heat of the day oppressive. She smiled at Emma, watching as she wafted the draught under her T-Shirt. Lauren glanced from her stomach down at her skirt, horrified as she caught herself leaning her head to one side to sneak a look between her legs. The slim, sleek shins glinted in the light and Lauren recognised the shot that ran through her, a welcome visitor and one she had missed for over a week. Sex had been the furthest thing from her mind since her ordeal. Masturbation had not even figured in her daily itinerary, and so the feeling inside as she now turned her attention to Jamie gave her confidence that she was mending satisfactorily. The door rattled as the conductor entered, his belt laden with machinery for issuing, stamping and printing tickets, change holders, timetables, keys, a torch and a gun. He was tall, overweight certainly, looked sweaty, old - at least forty by Lauren's reckoning. His thick, black hair might have been cut sometime in the past year, but it was debatable. His eyebrows curled at the ends giving him a sinister look. Lauren reached in her shorts and his gaze followed. She offered him the three tickets as he spoke quickly. Lauren was sure he had asked where they were going, but to be certain she smiled at Emma, silently asking for the translation. "San Falino" said Emma. He took each ticket in turn, gazing a little too much at her legs for Lauren's liking. Turning his attention to Emma, he smiled and sat next to her. A sickness was born in Lauren's stomach as she watched Emma's face change from humor and happiness to concern and fear. The man's eyes seemed fixed on her young breasts, not like a connoisseur but rather as though he had never been quite so close to a girl before. He examined Jamie's ticket, grunted and stood, walking towards the door. Lauren breathed a sigh of relief. Her mother's words of caution echoed once again. 'Never get into a single compartment, you're trapped' she would say each time she had taken the train to Interlaken or Thun. And each time, she and Nikki would do just that, blinds down, misbehaving in between stations, singing at the tops of the voices. During those occasions when their relationship was intimate, she recalled their loving between stops, time enough to remove their knickers after the first station. Time enough to spend the interludes between later stops engaged in mutual oral sex to the rhythm of the wheels, their clothing bunched up at head and toe to reveal their young breasts and bright white trainers. They had always been lucky. Lauren focused again on the landscape, pleased that the little houses had given way to countryside. A squeal from Emma brought her thoughts back inside. Emma scrambled back towards her brother, away from the door, away from the outstretched hand. "It's OK, I'm not going to hurt you." the guard said quietly. He sat beside her as she pushed back against her brother's chest. "Go away!" she commanded, her eyes fearful, tracking his hands. "Hey, stop this!" said Jamie, anger evident in his voice. The guard took no notice of Jamie, touching her knee as though it was hot and might burn his fingers. He smiled, pleased with his new-found conquest. His hand slipped up her thigh as she leapt up in the middle of the carriage, shaking him off, sneering as though a dog had accidentally urinated on her. "Go on, get out!" shouted Jamie, pointing to the door. Lauren watched their faces intently. "No, I have sex with this girl." said the old man gruffly. His mood changed slightly, irritation setting in as though she was a prize to which he had every right. "Sit!" Emma and Jamie slowly returned to their side of the carriage. He moved towards Lauren, watching the others closely. "Take it out" he commanded, nodding at her and then his groin. Lauren glared at him, her chin shuddering from the onset of tears. She felt her sphincter tighten, anger and adrenaline surging through her tense body. Her eyes darted from his groin to his holster and back again. She shook her head, whimpering. "No, I can't" "Do it!" he shouted. Turning to Jamie he snarled "You, take her shorts down!" as Emma again backed up against her brother, her thin legs and the flash of white knicker from within her shorts affecting the old man visibly. He giggled, eyes widening with childish awe as he stood in front of Lauren and pointed to his zip. Lauren remained motionless, turning to stare out of the window, her peripheral vision acutely aware of his proximity. Slowly, he reached down to his side and withdrew his gun. It shook slightly in his hand and he seemed to need both hands and all his concentration to control it. Lauren watched her hand extend towards the old man in absolute disbelief. Pure misery enveloped her like a damp mist. She reached out and found the tag of his zipper, sniffed wetly and pulled it down. She looked up from his grey underpants and into his dim eyes, then across to Emma. The guard followed her lead, glaring at Jamie until he slipped to the floor and began to tug at his sister's shorts. Emma squealed, squirming on the seat, freezing suddenly as the gun waved in front of her face. Jamie slipped her shorts down over her knees, the indentation of her pussy clearly defined underneath her thin, cream- coloured knickers. "Open you legs, let me see you pussy, little girl!" he sneered, now waving the gun back at Lauren. Emma's young legs stretched, falling flat against the seat with the suppleness of youth. Lauren undid the button securing his trousers and flicked it, watching with dismay as the rest of his underpants were revealed. The trousers bunched at his feet and he carefully stepped out, waiting for Lauren's hand to slip under his underpants and find his rigid cock. "Now her knickers, take them off! Want to see her little pussy!" he said with glee. "No! No, don't!" Emma screamed, her hands tight between her thighs, covering her vagina as she frantically looked at the others for assistance and support. Lauren stopped, wondering if the noise might have alerted other passengers, soldiers even, who could have offered help. But the relentless clanking of the train as it ambled on to San Falino merely marked out their path to misery. The guard giggled, his breathing short and irregular. "You!" he snorted, glaring at Lauren. She touched his cock, warm, solid, wet at the end from his excitement. He nodded at her; she slowly obliged and he stepped from his underpants, waving the gun at Jamie to signal that he should get on with his wishes. Jamie was shaking, anger turning to rage as he slipped his fingers into the elastic of his sister's knickers and pulled down along her legs. The little slit was almost hairless, unyielding of its treasure, closed to traffic. Emma sobbed quietly, legs tight together once again, pure venom in her eyes as she watched his every move. The guard stood there, dumbstruck at the sight. Lauren wondered what he had expected, and if there was any possibility now that he would decide that Emma was too young. But slowly, he returned to reality and pulled Lauren to the other seats so that both she and Jamie were either side of his little victim. "Get her wet" he said, smiling at Jamie. "Use your tongue on her!" Lauren was convinced that almost all his conversation came from men's magazines, its predictability and lack of genuine emotion grating against Lauren's senses. He grabbed Jamie by the hair and pushed him against the seat so that his face rested inches from the little girl's vagina. "Part her legs and lick!" he shouted, the gun again wobbling in the air. "No, please don't make him, please!" sniffed Emma. "Look, she's only thirteen!" said Jamie. "Shut up, you. Get on with it!" Jamie slid forward between her legs, his tongue extending until the tip touched her labia. Emma inhaled sharply, her head now back against the seat, eyes fluttering closed. Jamie licked, generating saliva and dribbling it over her pussy lips. Lauren watched as the old guard peered over Jamie's shoulder, stroking his raging cock as he saw the young boy's tongue disappear between her secret folds. She wondered if he might come before he entered her, giving a possible way out and saving Emma from the battering that she would otherwise receive. Lauren grimaced as Emma gripped her thighs, pulling her legs further apart as her brother flicked around, teasing slowly as her labia parted, swelled and rejoiced. Suddenly, she had a wonderful idea, and, reaching forward, took hold of the man's cock, pulling him towards her and away from Emma. She wet her lips and lowered her head towards his cock, looking into his eyes as she licked slowly along his shaft with as much lust as possible. He groaned with pleasure, watching Lauren's head bob up and down while her hand wrapped around the base of his cock. She almost gagged at the smell and the reminder, as if any was required, of her ordeal at the hands of the soldiers. Snippets of information flicked through her mind, filling gaps in her memory, seizing her attention so vividly that she faltered. The guard pushed her back to her seat and turned again to Emma. "OK, that's enough." He moved between her legs, grabbing behind her knees and pulling up so that her trainers rested flat on the seat and her pussy was over the edge. "No! Leave me alone!" shrieked Emma, her hands covering her vagina. "Shut up, little girl! You!" he shouted, indicating Jamie, "You sit the other side and hold her still!" he said as he balanced against the motion of the train. With his gun in his right hand on the back of the seat, he felt along Emma's thighs, his rough old fingers sampling the angelic softness of her skin. Crudely, he pushed her hands aside and grabbed her pubic mound, cupping it, sliding his fingers between her inner lips and rummaging around. He giggled once again. "Now, you, hold my cock and guide it in" he said to Lauren. She slowly obliged, shaking her head in protest, her attention split between the gun and his weapon as it neared Emma's vagina. He groaned quietly, fascinated as the tip of his cock pushed the lips of her vagina out of its path. "Good, now hold her legs. Tight, mind you! Right up high!" Her pussy was far from ready, the little labia tight with only the slightest indication of arousal. He pushed experimentally into Emma, his thick cock disappearing, veins proud and throbbing as he began to stroke in half way and out again. Emma screamed, truly in pain. Lauren rested her head against her shoulder, consoling her as she gripped her thigh tightly. She could see the man's cock emerging and re-entering, slick with Jamie's saliva and red from the tight grip of Emma's vagina. Occasionally, his cock fell out of the youngster, revealing the angry red knob and the foreskin stretched right back along his length. Lauren looked up, noting that Jamie was also entranced by the sight of the punishment his sister was receiving. Lauren felt fingers digging into her shoulders as Emma tried to stifle the pain. The seat squeaked in time with the guard as his pace increased and Emma's face contorted, mouth open from the pain inflicted by a man four or maybe five times her age. "No, please, stop!" screamed Emma, her eyes screwed up in pain and her body shaking. "For Christ's sake, stop!" "Shut up!" he sneered in between breaths. "Oh yes, that's it, hold her legs right up high, I'm coming!" He pushed furiously into her, battering her pubic mound as his stomach and thighs squashed her delicate frame. Emma's feet now touched the back of the seat, held in place by the Jamie and Lauren, breasts squashed against her knees. Her pussy pointed towards the ceiling, skewered by his fat cock to the rhythm of the track. He now penetrated her fully, irregularly, unable to pace or control himself, the gun still wobbling above them. He made a feeble attempt to push a finger into her anus but failed as his orgasm began the steady climb to satisfaction. Pausing, he tried to calm himself, watching the baby-like pussy lips following his shaft as it moved fractions of an inch up and down. Evidently he realised that he was out of control as he battered her once again, his face registering total surprise as he pushed himself way over the edge and into oblivion. "Ah! Yes, Oh God, that's it!" he groaned, pausing briefly before slowly pumping again. His cock emerged each time with a trail of his seed, and each thrust pushed more out between her lips. He continued pumping for what seemed like an age and the rage building inside Lauren was about to erupt into protest when he finally withdrew and slumped on the opposite seat, his erection rapidly subsiding. Smiling inanely to himself, he reached down to the floor and picked up Emma's knickers, wiping his sweaty brow and slick cock before throwing them over to her. Emma cried loudly, fighting nausea as she slowly lowered her legs. Her red-raw pussy was covered in his cum, a sheen of his relief smeared over her thin thighs. She slowly curled up, turning huddled in a ball against Lauren, sobbing and shaking. Lauren held her tight, glaring, mouthing silent words while the old man gathered his underpants and returned his gun to the holster. He dressed quickly, unlocked the door and, after looking both ways along the corridor, left without a word. "Hey, there there. It's over" said Lauren, rocking her gently. She wrapped her arms around Emma, smoothing her hair from her puffed-up eyes, watching the little girl's mouth billowing in her fight against nausea. Lauren looked up and caught Jamie's eye. He looked dumbfounded, embarrassed. "Hey, there's nothing you could have done. He had the gun!" she said, returning her attention to Emma. Jamie was silent, shaking his head, glancing occasionally at his sister. He stood, opened a suitcase and found some clean underwear for her. Handing the knickers to Lauren, he turned his back as the little girl wiped herself on her dirty underwear and absently dressed. She touched his arm as she cuddled up against Lauren once again and laid her head in her lap. "It's OK." she sobbed, "It's OK". Jamie shrugged and sat down once again, moved by the occasion and awkward in his inability to assist. Lauren avoided his stare, consumed in her pity for the girl and terror of what the next hours might bring. It occurred to her momentarily that Jamie might blame her for failing to protect his sister. She looked up to see him staring out of the window. No wiser, she returned her attention to Emma's blonde hair, consoling her, praying that the sobbing would subside. The smell of the man lingered, that unwashed, fishy smell that she remembered from boyfriends of years past. A young boy in particular. Maybe called Jules, or Jacques. She could see him, pictured on his bed. She had no idea how she had been persuaded to go there, but she had and he had assumed that she was visiting for sex and nothing else. He had groped her and more out of curiosity, she had pushed her hand inside his trousers. She smiled at the thought. She must have been fourteen of fifteen. All she remembered after that was that he had shuddered and come over her hand almost immediately. Then spent the next ten minutes apologising and trying to kiss her. Plus the next few weeks calling her to ask for another date. But the smell on her hand seemed to remain for days. Whenever she sneezed, or rubbed her face, or even brought a fork to her mouth, she was reminded of him and his lack of control. The train shuddered her back into the present. "Now what?" asked Jamie rhetorically. He stood and peered carefully towards the front of the train. Unable to see any further, he pulled down the window and cautiously leaned out. He pulled back quickly, panicking. "Soldiers. They're surrounding the train!" Emma bolted upright as Lauren leapt to her feet. She spun round and heaved their luggage from the overhead racks. The brakes squealed loudly. "I don't like this. We're at everyone's mercy!" she stammered, checking the locks on the suitcases. Her hands were shaking as the train came to a halt. She dashed to the window and cautiously peered out. The train had stopped in what looked like a plantation of some sort. Tall green plants grew densely from the edge of the track into the distance. There were maybe two dozen uniformed soldiers around the engine at the front, their rifles pointed up towards the driver and the first two coaches. They appeared to be moving to the other side of the track, disappearing under the train. Eventually, one soldier remained, standing guard. A shot rang out, ricocheting off metal. The guard sank to the ground, out of sight. "Shit, that's it. I think we should get off and run for it!" She looked at the children, waiting for a response. They shrugged almost in unison. She opened the door and threw the suitcase out into the plantation. Lauren watched it spin in the air and land softly in the undergrowth. It was further down than she had thought, and while she remembered seeing too many films of people jumping from trains, she had never really taken notice of how it should be done. A second, then a third shot pushed her into action. "I'll go first. Jump quickly after me, I'll try and catch you!" she said, turning towards the sugar cane. With her feet over the threshold of the door, she pushed off, her arms flailing as she tried to maintain her balance. Lauren landed well, sliding down the coarse gravel beside the track until she rolled into the cane. Grabbing a trunk, she stopped and turned, listening for shouts or new gunfire. "Come on, Emma, now you!" she hissed. Emma jumped with grace, her thin legs together and her blonde hair trailing as she collapsed onto the side of the embankment. Jamie followed close behind, landing heavily and rolling out of control into the roots of the sugar cane. "OK?" asked Lauren, steadying Jamie. He shook his head, winded from the fall. She glanced over at Emma, noticing that her legs were cut in many places, small trickles of blood appearing amongst the patches of dirt. Lauren had lacerations on her hands where she had broken her fall in the gravel. Chapter 46 She looked up to see where they had been. The door towered above them, seemingly an impossible height from the ground. She was amazed how a single gunshot could bring out Olympic qualities in people. Aches penetrated her thoughts, especially in her lower back and Emma moved stiffly ahead into the dense growth. "Wait, don't go too far. Grab the case and let's make sure we're out of sight" she whispered. Turning back to Jamie, she nodded at him, pulling him roughly away from the tracks, ignoring the grimace on his face. She caught up with Emma a few meters in front and pulled her to the ground, anxious above everything to keep the two children in her sight. Further gunfire rattled behind them and they instinctively ducked, crouching even lower as they scurried deeper into the dense green field. After five minutes, they decided that they were clear of any danger that the soldiers had presented, and flopped onto the ground. The suitcase and their clothes were marked with dark green lines from the sugar cane; their sweaty faces bore witness to the heat of the day and their flight from danger. Panting, they rested, listening all the time to the sounds above them. Lauren looked across to Jamie, who had taken the lead in their trek once had had regained his breath. His face was bleeding from scratches that he had gained from the leaves. Her opinion of him wavered between that of a part-time wimp and someone who simply needed spurring into action to deliver his best. She knew, somewhat selfishly of course, that she was more than grateful to have him with them in their hour of need. "What was in the other suitcase?" asked Lauren "Most of the food, I think." replied Jamie, looking at the small case beside him. "This has only got shirts and shoes." Lauren heart sank. Something told her that she really needed to eat, rest and change her clothes. Her watch said eight twenty. Darkness would be with them in less than an hour. She watched as Jamie opened the case and rummaged around. "Hey, a torch! Some biscuits, a can of lemonade." Lauren shrugged. It was better than nothing. "I think we'll have to stay here tonight. There's no point walking through this stuff, we'd probably go round in circles." And so they settled down for the night, each of them staring up at the greying night sky. Nobody slept. A shooting star just before eleven o'clock was greeted with a chorus of "Ooh!" that both suprised and amused them. By midnight, Emma and Lauren had curled up with their heads on one end of the suitcase, and Jamie lay at the other. Thoughts of ants, snakes and other man-eating animals were banished as the problems of the world gave way to the mysteries of sleep. If soldiers had been looking for them, they would have found their quarry at about three forty-five the next morning simply by listening, when Lauren rolled off the suitcase, snuggled down into the dirt and snored loudly. They woke just before the sun lit the sky. Great black birds circled over their little hideaway, not menacingly, but nevertheless enough to spur the children into activity. "Shit, I ache all over" stated Jamie to the heavens. He stretched loudly, remembered his predicament and covered his mouth with his hand. His eyes scanned the thick greenery for motion, finally coming to rest on Lauren's breasts. She felt the boy's attention, and with amusement turned to Emma, stroking her hair. She remembered waking up next to Jim on a number of wonderful occasions. There was something marvelous, wholesome, in rolling over in bed to find someone who has been with you all night. It was possible, she thought, to separate the love-making and sleep as two individual events, each of them a statement and source of fulfillment. Jim had always snuggled up behind her in the morning, reaching round to cup her breasts, his cock laying between her buttocks. She recalled one morning they had made love after a night of heavy passion. He had phoned his college, citing sickness, before ravaging her. The thought of his strong, thick cock as he walked back into the room, naked, made her bubble inside. God, she thought, they were both so randy that day. That was the first time that he had put his finger inside her bottom and she thought her orgasm was somehow going to blow her to pieces. "South must be the way to go, right? Towards the border?" she asked. Jamie looked away, confused as Lauren folded her arms over her nipples. It was cooler than she liked. Emma stirred silently on the ground, her clothing filthy from where she had tossed and turned throughout the night. Lauren knew they all looked dreadful, their faces streaked from dust and sweat. "Hmm, sun rises in the east, so sort of that way". He stood and walked uneasily off. "I'm just going over here, to the toilet." Lauren did the same, walking only a few meters in the opposite direction before flicking the button on her jeans and dropping them to her ankles. Perhaps in another situation, she might have simply pulled her clothes down and hoped to miss, but with the shortage of clean underwear, she decided to take no chances. She looked around, half hoping for something to make the job easier, but reconciled herself to discarding her jeans and, after looking in all directions, stuck her thumbs in the elastic of her knickers, pushed them to her ankles and stepped out. She delighted in the feeling of nakedness, of abandonment as the morning breeze caressed her pussy. Squatting, with one hand to her side to steady herself , she relaxed and urinated. The crack of twigs beside her made her jump. "Oh, for Christ's sake, Emma!" she hissed, wobbling. "It's only me, I have to do the same." Emma's eyes traced the path from Lauren's ankles up to the dark cleft between her legs and down to the damp soil beneath. Lauren felt a twinge ripple deep in her stomach. Without hesitation, Emma dropped her jeans and knickers on top of Lauren's and squatted a few feet away, facing her squarely. Lauren remained motionless, her bladder complaining about the interruption, as she watched Emma hold on to a thick sugar cane and spread her legs slightly. As she looked down, a strong stream hissed from her young pussy, causing her to giggle slightly. She looked up at Lauren and smiled, sweetly. "Go on, you don't have to stop, you know!" With some effort, Lauren managed to a trickle, spurts hitting the ground while Emma continued to display all the abandon and lack of embarrassment Lauren found so endearing. The little girl stood as she finished, wondering what she could use to wipe herself. She gave up, leaning against a cane as she watched Lauren finish. "Emma!" said Lauren, pouting. "What?" "Don't stare! It's not nice!" she said, pulling her knickers back up. "But..we're both girls, aren't we?" asked Emma, still leaning against the cane. Lauren watched as her hand slowly brushed over the hem of her T-Shirt and found the soft skin of her flat belly. Her fingers were splayed dramatically, the middle one inches from the soft folds of her labia. It descended, Lauren's eyes bulging in their sockets as she suddenly realised what the girl was going to do. "Emma, stop it! Come on, get dressed, we've got to make a lot of progress today." "I dreamed about you last night" she said, bending effortlessly to pick up her knickers. Lauren watched as her taut buttocks parted to reveal her pussy. "I dreamed that we were high up a mountain, together. And we kissed for ages. All night. I think I came in my sleep!" "Emma! Why are you behaving like this?" "Lori, don't run out on us. Please!" She edged closer to Lauren, holding her arm. "Why would I do that?" "Because it's dangerous, and we're probably going to get captured sometime." Lauren wrapped her arms around her, feeling Emma's knickers sliding down between them to the ground. The heat from the girl's pussy radiated through her, their soft skin gliding together. Emma's leg slipped between hers without resistance and she felt the girl's hands grip her buttocks. "Emma, it's OK, it's OK. I'm staying. And if I could leave, I'd take you with me." She patted her on the back. With superhuman effort she resisted the urge to kiss her lips. The thought crossed her mind several times in the space of five seconds that they might be able to make love right there. But some remnant of rationality suggested that Jamie was sure to try and find them if they didn't return in a few minutes, and anyway, with only dirt to lie on, it promised to be somewhat uncomfortable. The drug of lust wafted over her, arguing that the smell of urine and morning breath was easily outweighed by the freshness, youth and pure sexuality of the girl in her arms. Mother's voice boomed from above. "I thought you escaped from the train?" "We did!" "How did you get captured again?" "Easy. I was making love to the little girl in my charge in a sugar plantation at half past five in the morning. She yelped so loud as I slid my tongue into her wonderful little pussy that the soldiers found us. It could have happened to anyone, Mum!" Kissing her on the forehead, she pushed away, turning back to find her own clothes. She sensed that Emma was dressing as well, and deliberately pulled her knickers and jeans up slowly. "Come on, biscuits and Pepsi for breakfast today" she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. For the next hour they cautiously headed in a southerly direction, lugging the suitcase in turns out of the plantation. The dense greenery gave way to a sparse hillside, criss- crossed with dirt tracks that led to single story houses. Their brilliant red-tiled roofs shone as the sun rose over the hills, catching the tree-tops, rousing nature. Lauren felt hungry once again. The biscuits had tasted horrible first thing in the morning, although none of them had felt it necessary to complain. The thought of breaking into one of the houses crossed her mind, but dogs roaming around and the chance of being seen dissuaded her. Jamie and Lauren carried the luggage alternately, leaving Emma to trail behind. Threading their way cautiously from one hamlet to the next, Lauren could only believe that they looked highly suspicious. Adding to her concern was the lack of other refugees. Occasionally they saw other small groups, but they looked like local people who were out for a morning stroll rather than natives fleeing advancing armies. God knows how she would explain removing the children from their house, exposing them to danger, if the war had finished days ago. However, they continued silently, and by eight o'clock were hot, tired and thoughts of being lost surfaced. The sun was on their left, which made sense in Lauren's mind. But they had no idea of knowing if they were out of San Falino. "Can we stop?" whined Emma. Without discussion, they flopped down beneath an old tree that shaded them from the sun. "Phew, it's hot" said Emma, wafting her T-Shirt in and out. Dark patches of sweat stuck the material to her back. "Jeans are the wrong thing for this weather, but if we wear shorts we'll get scratched or bitten to bits! I don't know what's worse, the mosquitoes or the brambles" said Lauren, staring up through the leaves. "We haven't got shorts, remember? They were in the other suitcase." said Jamie, demonstrating that the handle on the survivor was near the end of it's life. A search of the suitcase confirmed Lauren's fears. Shoes, a few more packets of biscuits, cans without a can opener, paper cups, socks for every occasion and a torch. No underwear, maps, sun cream or anything practical. They chatted for a few minutes, avoiding the obvious problems of the morning, until a pair of jets streaked across the sky. "Come on, let's keep going!" said Emma, fear in her voice. Lauren knew that they were all thinking about the previous jets and the blast in the swimming pool. The urge to move away was from the unseen bomb was overpowering. By eleven they were tired, filthy dirty and fed up. The suitcase had given up very shortly after they broke camp. The biscuits were eaten immediately on the understanding that they would stop at the first cafe for lunch but each bend in the track brought more of the barren, parched landscape. Emma dragged her feet, shuffling along, falling further behind. Lauren's pretence of energy and enthusiasm dwindled with every yard they took until she decided that it was noon, and time to stop. The track came to a major cross- roads, a meeting point marked by an enormous tree and what looked like the source of a river. "Oh yeah, look at this water!" squealed Emma, running down the slight incline to the edge of the stream. She knelt down and tested it's temperature. Satisfied, she scooped handfuls of water up and washed her face. Lauren watched as Jamie joined his sister, splashing and fooling with the water. Their clothes became soaked but that was the last of their problems that morning. After scanning the bushes all around, she joined them, washing and delighting in the feel of the cool clear water against her skin. "Emma, you're drenched!" she exclaimed. "So what. It'll dry in minutes. Anyway, so is Jamie!" she giggled, splashing Lauren with a jet of water that her expression suggested was much bigger than she had intended. Their T-shirts clung to their bodies, and Lauren felt her jeans slowly cooling as water seeped through to her knickers. The water fight lasted less than a minute, but provide welcome relief from the heat of the day and the tensions of their flight. A glance at Emma confirmed her suspicions, the little girl's nipples unashamedly erect, pushing out against her T- Shirt. Jamie had noticed as well and once again had his eyes on Lauren's breasts. "Shh!" hissed Lauren, looking across the stream into the undergrowth. "What?" laughed Jamie. "Shh! I heard something. Like a radio!" Her face grew deadly serious, and the children turned to follow her gaze. Across the stream, maybe fifty feet away, was a soldier, busily walking and talking into a radio handset. "Shit, back to the road, slowly and carefully. Now!" They climbed the embankment, their fear compounded by the sound of a truck coming from the right along the track. Jamie turned to Lauren, looking for advice. Emma sobbed, clinging to Lauren. "Hey, it's OK. Let's just sit down so there's no misunderstanding. We've done nothing wrong, have we?" The heavy, dark green military truck rounded the bend, pulled up inches from their feet and cut it's engine. Lauren's heart pounded in her chest, racing as Emma's grip on her arm tightened. The driver's door opened and a young soldier jumped to the ground. "Where are you three going?" "We're heading south, along the track!" replied Lauren, pointing to the path that she wished she was on that very moment. Jamie and Emma nodded in support. The soldier looked at them carefully. "You French?" "Swiss." "Where are you from?" "Boquette!" offered Emma, returning the soldier's smile. Lauren watched his eyes, darting across the little girl's body as a sickening feeling grew in her stomach. She glared at Emma. "Wait here! It's not safe for you to travel on these tracks, we can't protect you!" He turned and mounted the cab once again, took the radio and spoke. The children strained to catch snippets of conversation, but the cicadas and macaws drowned out the content. The radio fell silent, and he concerned himself with writing on a clipboard. Lauren would have sold her soul for even a glimpse. Her hands shook as he opened the door and landed at her feet. To her surprise, the sound of another truck grew in the distance. "We're moving you out. The enemy will be pushed into these hills in the next few days." "But where?" demanded Lauren, horrified. "One of our international staff will take care of you. That's her truck arriving now." "You're lucky", he added, turning to open his truck door before clambering back up behind the wheel "You might have had to wait hours!" The indication that Lauren's outburst lacked the expected level of gratitude was not missed. They turned to watch the second truck pull up just short of the water. A young woman jumped down gaily from the seat. Dressed in army uniform, she bounced across the dirt towards them. Her dark glasses and cap hid most of her features, but Lauren noticed the clear complexion and confident elegance in her walk. "Hey, who have we here?" she asked, inspecting her new troops. "I'm Lauren, this is Jamie, and his sister Emma. We're going south, to Venezuela." "Well, not today you're not. Most likely you'll wait a week or two before it'll be safe." she stated. Emma turned away from her, staring down at the ground. "We'll just keep on walking then" said Jamie. "Hmm, you can if you want, but we know there are guerrillas in the hills four and a half miles southwest of here. Not friendly to anyone, especially young girls." The tone of her voice closed down any response. "Where are we going then?" asked Lauren. She stared at the woman's sunglasses, wondering what lurked behind. She had very dark, straight hair that had been stuffed up under her beret. Twenty four, maybe twenty five. Nice white teeth. "Back to a sort of camp for non-residents. I manage it." Lauren detected a hint of authority, mixed with a public relations smile. Unusual, she thought, for such a small, poor country that was engaged in civil war as a result of even basic amenities. "From there you'll be escorted either to your embassy, or if the fighting ends, back to your house." She turned and walked back to the truck, clearly expecting instant movement. Lauren looked at Jamie and shrugged, responding to the obvious question. The woman turned, feigning surprise that they hadn't immediately fallen in behind her. Lauren detected her annoyance and rose. "Is there a phone there?" "Yep. Well, there was this morning! Come on, hop in the back, it's about thirty minutes. Maybe you'll have company before we get there. You're the second group I found today." Lauren made her way to the back of the truck and helped Jamie up. She was surprised to discover that Emma wasn't right behind her, and retraced her steps to find her sitting watching the stream. "What's up?" She shrugged. "Don't feel well" "Oh come on. It's got to be better than walking through the hills in this heat. Come and rest. You'll feel fine soon." The woman reappeared. "Just as I thought. Probably never even had dirt underneath her nails. Any of you!" "I don't want to go. I want to walk!" hissed Emma. "Emma, what's up? Eh" "Nothing!" The silence. She picked up a stone from the ground and threw it into the water. "Come on, we can snuggle down in the back of the truck. Then maybe get washed back at this camp. That would be nice, wouldn't it?" said Lauren, helping her to her feet. Slowly, they made their way to the back and accepted Jamie's hand to clamber aboard. The truck shuddered into motion, turning round and retracing it's route down the track. They didn't meet anyone else, and both Lauren and Emma managed to doze in the back as it wound it's way back onto major roads. Jamie stared out of the back, watching the road appear beneath him. The short shadows from the trees barely reached into the road. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /