Выбрать главу

Through the tunnel of his clasped hands, his wildly jerking penis began spasmodically pumping a thin stream of scalding cum over the girl's trembling belly. As the hot sperm spurted and gushed between his clenched fingers, falling in long pearly threads to dew Susan's silken pussy hair, he sighed deeply and the taut muscles of his young body gradually relaxed. His shoulders drooped, his eyes closed, and he fell forward exhausted over her plundered loins to lie with his head between her shuddering breasts as the pools of sticky semen on her belly pressed against the sparse hairs on his chest.

Susan's hands clasped themselves involuntarily over the back of his blond head. Her legs straightened slowly along the satin coverlet. She turned her face towards the dying embers of the fire, heaved a slow and satisfied sigh… and fell instantly, deeply asleep.

CHAPTER THREE

It was still raining the following morning – a relentless downpour that fell from a gray sky ragged with low clouds scudding in from the West, drumming on the roofs, bouncing high off the sidewalk, gurgling furiously in the gutters and lying in huge pools across the concrete surface of the autobahn. Susan and Stefan stood at the exit from a Tankstelle service area, their sodden garments whipped around their limbs by the wind, their eyes screwed up against the assault of the driving rain.

They had thumbed a ride East to the Frankfurt-Cologne turnpike, thinking that, despite the extra mileage, they would arrive in Bonn more quickly this way than by the traffic-choked Koblenz-Bad Godesberg road on the left bank of the Rhine. Now they were waiting for a ride on the second leg of their journey, hunched against the cold and the wet. Stefan had already declined offers from an Opel Rekord and a Mercedes sedan, saying rather primly that he didn't like the look of the drivers.

Susan was beyond caring. Her teeth were chattering – not so much because of the climate as at the terrifying thought of what might await her at home! It was bad enough having been away all night. But to have been away with no reasonable explanation… her mind quailed at the thought of what her father might say! For she couldn't possibly explain why she had gone; nor could she reveal where she had been. Saying she had been with Stefan would only add fuel to the fires of his rage. There was no friend who could alibi her, and she would be forced either to invent some implausible story about wanting to see the Fasching… or refuse to give an explanation at all. Her heart sank at the thought of the reception either would receive!

By now Colonel Templar would probably have alerted the police. There might even be a check when they took the slip-road leading to Bonn and Konigswinter. What could she possibly say? She had been worrying about it ever since she woke up in the strange hotel room with the blond boy still collapsed across her.

They had got up quickly, snatched a cup of coffee, and set off as fast as they could. And the problem had seemed to get worse and worse with every minute! A biscuit-colored Volkswagen mini-bus approached slowly along the road leading from the gas station to the autobahn, with fans of water spraying out on either side of its wheels. He ran into the roadway and signaled. The mini-bus braked, hesitated, and finally pulled up a few yards beyond them. He ran up to the driver's window, talking and gesticulating, and then turned to beckon to the soaked girl.

"It's all right," he called. "They'll take us!"

There were plastic covered benches running the length of the vehicle's tonneau. Two youths in black jackets sat at the back, staring glumly out at the rainswept landscape, the tops of the tree-covered hills lost in scurrying clouds. A third boy was driving, and there was a slim, blonde girl with a slender body and a wide-lipped, rather cruel mouth curled up on the passenger seat beside him. Susan and Stefan sat gratefully opposite the two boys and Stefan began desultorily to exchange platitudes about the awfulness of the weather. Paying little attention because she was too occupied with her own thoughts, the girl stared at them idly, thinking to herself that there was something familiar about them, something that she couldn't quite place. It was only when she looked to the front and happened to see the driver turn his head, noticing with a sudden pang of unaccountable alarm the unlit cigarette jutting from his mouth, that she finally realized.

"W-w-w-why," she stammered, breaking into Stefan's conversation, "you're the three boys who… the three boys we saw in Siegsdorff last night!"

The bulkier of the two youths grinned. "Why so we are!" he said in English, winking at Stefan. "Whaddaya know!"

For some reason Susan felt obscurely uneasy. She looked out the rain-streaked window at the Rhenish countryside speeding past. The dreary urban landscape of concrete factories, pylons, refineries and doll's house developments stretched away towards the river and the wilderness of diplomatic blocks between Bad Godesberg and Bonn on the far side. Somewhere over there her father would be sitting at his desk, staring grimly out at the rain as he barked orders and questions into his phone. Most of them would be about her!

She would be glad just the same when they reached the turn-off. It wouldn't be long now. The Volkswagen was hitting 120 kilometres per hour as they swished past the huge green and white sign announcing: Bad Godesberg, Bonn – 1000 m. The approach indicators – three chevrons, two, one – swept up and fell behind, and the cloverleaf slip-road appeared, curling off to the right among the featureless, rain-flattened grasses. Without slackening speed, the mini-bus roared past and sped on up the autobahn towards the north.

"Hey!" Susan exclaimed. "Just a minute – Stefan…"

Nobody paid her any attention. The two youths sat staring out the back window. Stefan had moved up to the front and was leaning forward looking through the windshield between the girl and the driver. There wasn't another turn-off until they got to Cologne! By the time she got back to Bonn it would be after lunch, and things would be worse than ever!

"Stefan!" she called again, more urgently this time. "They missed the turning! We've gone past it!"

He didn't reply. His blond head remained obstinately staring ahead through the windshield at the twin gray ribbons of wet asphalt unrolling towards them. By now thoroughly alarmed, the worried teenager shifted up to the front of the minibus and took the boy's arm.

"Stefan!" she said for the third time. "Don't you understand? We've gone passed the turn-off for Bonn!"

"That's all right," he said without turning his head. "We're not going to Bonn!"

"N-n-not going to Bonn?" Susan faltered. "Where are we going then?"

He turned and looked at her. "Hamburg," he said briefly.

"Hamburg!" Susan squeaked in a voice shrill with foreboding. "B-b-but that's hundreds of miles away! What do you mean, Hamburg? What's going on, for God's sakes?"

The blonde girl in the passenger seat swung around and spoke for the first time.

"Look sweetie," she said, "you might as well get use to the idea: you've been snatched!"

"S-s-snatched?" Susan quavered. "But I…"

"Kidnapped, abducted, held to ransom, removed without your parents' consent," the blonde explained sardonically. "And very expertly too, if you don't mind my saying so."

"But I don't understand!" the frightened girl burst out. "Stefan! Do something, for goodness sakes!"

The blond boy didn't reply. He was staring fixedly through the windshield again, apparently absorbed in a long line of trucks and trailers whose giant wheels were spewing out a thick spray of rain and mud and diesel fumes as the Volkswagen roared past them.