Buried Treasure

by Ozmanga

Chapter One

As Max drove down the freeway in the gathering dusk, his wife, Carmen, turned to see what was happening on the back seat of their recently stolen, six-cylinder, four-wheel drive, Explorer. The noise of struggle had stopped. 

The cruel mocking voice of the rapist, the tearful protests of his victim, the sobs and slaps and the sound of ripping cloth had ceased. The noise of the brutal assault had been replaced by a satisfied rhythmic grunting interspersed with expressions of gratification and unlikely, foul-mouthed, compliments from the man and an occasional, barely audible, sob from his victim.

"Yeah, oh, yeah, you cum-sucking bitch," he grunted. "You got a sweet, tight, cock-starved mouth, honey-bun." 

Carmen peered over the back of her seat to look at her husband's fellow escapee, Skull Grooste, sitting on the back seat of the stolen vehicle. A blonde-haired woman knelt on the floor, jammed in the gap between the front and back seats. She crouched between Skull's wide-spread legs. The convict had taken off his leather jacket. Carmen had brought one for each of them to replace the prison-issue coats with their  tell-tale red "SP" logo. Skull had unbuckled his belt and dragged his jeans and underpants down to mid thigh. Carmen could see his hairless, bare, chest and stomach were covered with a network of pornographic tattoos. The crudely drawn prison tattoos flowed down his well-muscled body, slid around his buttocks and circled his swollen sex, now engorged by the widely stretched, coral-pink, lips of the Ford's former owner.

The woman was trapped. Skull had taped the her hands behind her back. He had ripped the top of her pretty yellow summer dress and tugged her brassiere below her full, creamy, breasts. Now Skull had a fistful of his victim's short straw-colored hair and was forcing her head up and down his snake-veined cock. Carmen was angry and worried, but found it difficult to look away.

The Ford's previous owner was in her late twenties or early thirties, Carmen thought. A bit older than herself. From what she could see the woman had a good figure, neat round buttocks, a narrow waist and large, perhaps over-large, natural, breasts. Her brown eyes were tear-filled and open wide in terror as her tattooed tormentor forced her head up and down his thick erection.

Carmen experienced mixed emotions as she watched the defenseless woman being compelled to do something the dancer had only seen acted on a few so-called "adult" porno DVDs and videos. She was appalled that a violent crime was being committed under her nose but at the same time Carmen was fascinated by the violent scene. 

Carmen watched Skull's savage treatment of his captive with mounting interest and concern. She wanted to tell him to stop, but she did not. She found she was excited by the sight and sounds of the woman's humiliation. She was aroused to see bruises on the woman's breasts made by the rapist's cruel fingers. The faintly blue-veined flesh rose and fell in time to Skull's thrusts and animal grunts. Carmen found she was becoming turned on by Skull's musky smell as he slid his victim's head up and down the glistening length of his erection.

But it was wrong, Carmen thought, to do nothing while a woman was being sexually assaulted a few feet away. They'd done her enough injury by stealing her vehicle. Carmen started to protest but then stopped. She coughed and hesitated and, while she debated whether to try to help the woman, one of her hands slipped between her denim clad thighs and gently massaged her moist pussy through the cotton cloth.

***

 "Leave him be," had been Max's advice when Carmen had first expressed her detestation of Skull. "He's dangerous. Skull is a crazy son of a bitch, but I owe him. And having him with us will speed things up with the digging. Soon as he gets his share of the 'buried treasure' he'll be gone. Until then don't get him rattled, okay?"

Max was taller and broader than Skull and, like the tattooed man, he had kept in shape during the three years since he had been sentenced. Standing six foot two and without an ounce of fat on his slim-hipped body Max still looked like the athlete he had been. But Max lacked Skull's savage survival skills. He knew that, without his hard-headed cell-mate, he would have been unable to resist the demands of the legion of fellow convicts. One or another of them would have forced him to reveal the whereabouts of the proceeds from what the media had called, inaccurately, "the great plane robbery".

The five million dollars in used bank notes had been taken from the airport's secure area, not from an airplane. The notes, of all denominations, had been destined for destruction by burning at the government's approved incinerator. They were untraceable. Max's two colleagues had died in a car crash while being pursued by the police an hour after the robbery. Max, and the van with the loot in it, had got clean away. He had hidden the money before the long arm of the law grabbed him by the balls.

It had taken Carmen three years to find a warder venal and vulnerable enough to ensure a clean get-away for her husband. The married prison officer was a regular drinker at one of the strip clubs that took Carmen's "Lady With the Lash" cabaret act. Caught on camera astride one of the club's girls he was fair game for the persuasive Carmen. Skull was told about the planned escape a week before Max was due to be sprung and insisted on being included in the plan. No one had raised the alarm as the two convicts scaled two walls and negotiated an electric fence before Carmen, in a stolen Honda, picked them up.

Carmen took an instant dislike to her husband's cell mate. She didn't appreciate his knowing leer as Max picked her up and hugged the breath out of her five foot two pole-dancer's body. She was dressed for action. Jeans, sneakers, and a plain cotton top. No bra and, for convenience, her long blonde tresses were pulled into a pony-tail and secured by a blue ribbon.

"Max said you was a blonde bombshell with brains," Skull had said, stripping her mentally with a hot stare. "He didn't say you was a walking wet-dream with legs all the way up to her ass and tits to drive a man wild."

"I take it that's a compliment," she responded, coolly. "Thanks. Get in, belt up. I think this hot Honda may have been picked up on CCTV, so we'll need to find another auto very soon. There's a supermarket with a big car park with no security cameras on the outskirts of town. We should be able to find suitable transport there."

Skull laughed and said leave it to him to find a replacement vehicle while Carmen and Max went shopping. Max agreed. They would need food and drink for a day or two, Max said, bedding and some tools. There were no stores where they were going and they would have to dig for the treasure. 

Skull was as good as his word. Within thirty minutes, the three of them loaded their stores and victuals into the back of the almost new Explorer Skull had acquired. Carmen noted there were two smart, leather, suitcases and a box of books already in the back as she tossed her sports bag into the rear compartment. The three of them transferred blankets, cooking kit, groceries, two shovels, two heavy-duty torches with spare batteries and a pry-bar from the supermarket trolleys into the stolen vehicle.
 
Carmen asked about the suitcases.

"Present from the rich bitch who used to own this gas-guzzler," said Skull. "You drive, Max, you know where we're going. I'll take the back seat." He climbed quickly on board. Carol noticed a travel rug piled between the back and front seats

It was only as they were driving onto the freeway, twenty minutes later, that Skull gave his nasty harsh laugh and pulled the travel rug aside to reveal the young woman crouched between the seats. She was wearing a yellow dress and was gagged and bound with duct-tape. 

He said, "Look what I got. My own little fuck-toy. Ain't she cute?"

Carmen was alarmed but strangely excited. Max was furious. 

"What the fuck do you think you're playing at?" he growled. "The cops wouldn't have bothered about the theft of yet another auto but abduction? They'll all be after us. You are a stupid bastard, Skull."

The tattooed man on the back seat laughed. "Hey. Do I look stupid? The bitch was going to drive interstate tonight. I heard her tell the gas station attendant. If she is missed, it won't be for a day or two. Enough time to get your buried treasure and split, right?"

Max grunted a reluctant agreement. Carmen said nothing. The Ford purred steadily along the smooth highway.

"We're heading for a hut in the mountains, right?" asked Skull.

Max nodded.

"One room? Bunks?"

"If it's still standing," said Max

"Did you expect me to spend my first night out of the can after six years, flogging my mutton while I listened to you and your wife, in the same room, fucking like demented rabbits? Or did you plan to share her with me?"

"Hey!" protested Carmen She glared at the man on the back seat.

 "Shut it, Skull," growled Max

"I wouldn't have minded that. Your Carmen's a real good looker. I bet she could service the two of us for a day or so," Skull continued. "She looks like a strong girl. Hell, she might even enjoy the added attention. What d'ya say, blondie?"

"I said, 'shut it', Skull!" said Max in a voice his cell-mate recognized as dangerous. 

"Okay, okay." said Skull."Just kidding." He leaned down to whisper in his captive's ear. The woman looked up at him, her big brown eyes wide and wet. 

"Well?" asked Skull.

The woman nodded reluctantly. Tears ran down her cheeks. The yellow dress looked tight, stretched across her full bosom. 

Skull, carefully, peeled the duct tape off his prisoner's face. Carmen noted her generous mouth and the pale coral lipstick she had once favored for herself. The woman started to say something in a low-pitched, nervous, voice. Skull silenced her by covering her mouth with his in a prolonged French kiss. Carmen turned away and resolutely stared through the windscreen. The sounds of struggle in the back began.						***
"Oh! Sweet Cheesus!" moaned Skull as he came in his victim's mouth. Carmen surreptitiously pressed the denim between her legs and watched as the escaped convict forced his pulsing cock deeper down the woman's throat. Too late now to try to help, she thought. Perhaps later.

"Sweet Cheesus Keerist! That was good," said Skull slowly withdrawing his softening tool from his victim's coral painted mouth. The woman in the torn yellow dress coughed and spluttered. Jism oozed from her lips and hung in pearl-dropped strings from her jaw. One glistening strand of the viscous fluid hung between her chin and Skull's still tumescent cock. She stared, frightened and wide-eyed, at the rapist. He ripped a piece of material from the torn dress and wiped his cock and her face. "Yeah. Good. But next time you swallow it all, bitch. Understand?" The woman whimpered and nodded.

Skull looked up suddenly and saw Carmen peering over the seat-back. He grinned at her and waved his flaccid member. "You like to watch, honey?" he said quietly. "Well, keep an eye on this space. I reckon I've got a reload time of about twenty minutes, which is time enough for me to strip this straw-haired, cock-sucking, bitch naked and have her ripe and ready for a real long, hard, fucking. You want to see that, eh?"

Carmen frowned. She was embarrassed at having been caught gawping at Skull and his victim but guiltily excited by what she had seen and what was promised by at his cruel  words. Her pussy, she knew, was wet. She wished the journey was at an end so she and her husband could make up for some of the time he had spent in jail. 

"Hey, Max, your good lady likes to watch. Did you know that?" said Skull raising his voice.

Max grunted but didn't reply.

"Makes a change from being watched, eh, Carmen? Or do you get a high from stripping and dancing  naked for a crowd of horny jerk-offs? Must have been hard with your man locked away and all that available hot cock drooling for your body every night "

"Shut up, Skull," said Max. "Carmen got us out of the can. Remember that. Show some respect."

"Sure. Sure," smiled Skull. "There's nothing wrong with watching." He slowly pumped his softening cock. "Specially if you got something worth looking at." The tattoo below his belly button was of a decaying skull. His flaccid penis seemed to loll out of the skull's mouth.

"What's her name, Skull? Or don't you know?" asked Carmen trying to sound calm and disinterested.

The convict smiled at Carmen. He reached down to the floor by his feet and produced a red leather pocket book. "Here," he said and handed it to her. "The cunt was carrying this when she paid for the gas, so you'll probably find her name in it somewhere."

Carmen took the gift and began to search the hand-bag.

