The Hunt aka 27 Read Online Free PDF Page A

she did he could smell the musky odor of her se on her fingers. She slowly drew one end of the tie until it fell loose. The hand under her dress was moving faster and her legs were beginning to quiver. She closed her eyes, lowered her chin to her breasts and licked the top of them as she stroked herself faster.
    “Yeah, guy, oh yeah,” she groaned.
    “Stop,” he ordered.
    “What?”
    “Stop. Unbutton my shirt.”
    “C’mon now.
    “Do it.”
    She was out of breath and her face was flushed but she did what he asked. Her hands shook as she undid the buttons. When she was finished he took the shirt off. He sat on the sofa and leaned back on his elbows.
    “Undo my pants .. . now reach in and stroke me for awhile now you can do yourself again .. . stop! No, not me, you...
    take off the dress. . . yes, now the corset. . . slowly, no hurry. .
    He saw her full breasts burst free of the tight corset, watched her as she slid the corset down, stared at the black triangle of hair that glistened a few inches from his face. Her hands stroked him to life. He lay back.
    “Now you again. . . yes, like that... not so fast, build up to it again
    She couldn’t control it.
    “Can’t wait, luv.” She closed her eyes. Her arm was moving spasmodically.
    He watched her hand moving faster and faster, watched her stroke him with the same cadence. She beg a n to tremble, to stiffen and he felt himself about to explode.
    “Stop!” he cried out. But she paid no attention.
    “Stop it!” Her gripped the hand that was stroking him around the wrist. His grip was so tight it hurt her but she still didn’t stop. Instead she stroked herself faster and began to moan.
    Ingersoll rolled slightly to one side and lashed out with a vicious right cross, punching her in the mouth as hard as he could. Her head snapped back, her body sagged; she fell sideways to the floor and lay there unconscious.
    He sat up on the sofa and took a d eep breath, composing himself. His chest heaved, twice, three times, then he was calm. He stared down at her, watching the bruise on her jaw turn black, and he began to chuckle.
    She came around slowly and just as slowly became aware that her hands and legs were tied to the four corners of the bed. He was inside her, thrusting like an animal. Her mouth was gagged with a cotton cloth. She looked up, terrified. He was leaning over her, his mouth half open, sweat pouring from his chin and when he saw her look up he straightened up and hit her again, not as hard this time but enough to split her lip. She could feel the lip going numb, the salty flow of blood in her throat. She tried to scream. He hit her again and n ow he began to pant as he hit her, punching her in the chest and ribs and face, although the blows became less and less brutal as he built to a climax with each punch. She was almost unconscious again when she heard him cry out and felt him fall forward on top of her. His head fell beside hers. His heart was pounding against her bruised ribs. She could feel him begin to soften inside her. She began to moan in pain. If he heard her he paid no attention.
    He left her tied and bleeding while he went into the bathroom to shower. When he came back the white wig and beard were restored. He untied her but left the gag in place; her shattered lips were swollen around it. He helped her get dressed, threw the bloody dress and corset and the black mask in the suitcase.
    “We’re going to leave by the back stairs, the way we came in,” he whispered in her ear. “I want you to keep your head down, understand me? Understand?”
    She nodded.
    “You act drunk. If we pass anybody, don’t look up. You make one sound and I will break your neck like a dead twig.”
    He held her up with one arm and carried his bag in the other. She kept her head down as he had ordered but no one saw them. He shoved her roughly into the front seat of the car and slammed the door, then drove back toward the Helgestrasse in silence. She stared at the