Brenda Hayter was nineteen, a shapely English girl with rich parents who had spoiled their pretty blonde daughter until, in a successful attempt to find her own feet and get away from the country social set her parents cultivated, she had gone off with her girlfriend on a working tour of the Americas. June Thorpe was the girlfriend, a capable twenty-one year old with a very womanish figure but an almost masculine independence. The girls had bought an American car - a Thunderbird soft-top that was, to them, a superb vehicle with every comfort and with beautiful lines. Being five years old, the car was almost scrap - the opinion of the dealer, who had been amazed and delighted by the "crazy English dames" who had so enthused over the "heap" that he had almost had a twinge of conscience as he took their money.

From Now York, when the car was purchased, they worked their way South. The current vogue for English receptionists and secretaries a sort of status symbol, had made it easy for them to get jobs for a few weeks when they hit a town they liked. It was when they were camping out in the Rockies, their first purely "holiday" stop since working in and exploring Now York, that Brenda found out June was more masculine than she had oven dreamed of!

Being a virgin, the young blonde was easy prey for June. Once she had persuaded Brenda to submit to a bit of manual exploration, getting her to allow the dark girl's hand between her thighs was easy. Of course, the expert Lesbian gave Brenda the tremendous pleasure of a climax - her first - without the pain of a man tearing away her virginity. She had even converted Brenda to the pleasures of mutual enjoyment, and for the next five months they travelled, explored, worked and loved their way down the American coast, crossing into Mexico three weeks ago, at the end of November.

At the Cerise Lake Ranch House, they were invited to help the manager and his wife in reception until the Motel shut down for the off season. It had been fun, sharing a cabin, enjoying the work and only the manager's wandering hands to spoil an otherwise perfect three weeks.

It had been almost a relief when he and his wife had left yesterday with instructions for the girls to keep an eye on the shut-down Ranch House until Mr. Papenderol came to lock up the place on the Saturday. The girls had watched the managers leave, having suffered a last indecent pawing by the drawling, greasy proprietor before the impassive eyes of his cow-like wife.

"C'mon, Hermano," she had snapped after both girls had managed to escape from the quicksilver fingers of the Greek-Mexican. "We git plenty time in Tijuana for you to play wit tarts. Mebbe dey better, huh? An' dese two, dey got other tings to do!"

"Sure ting," Hermano had giggled, reaching out unsuccessfully for a last nip at June's breasts. "Other t'ings!" And off he went with his wife.

Brenda and June had packed most of their things into the Thunderbird and settled in the big deserted bar lounge for a meal, some drinks, low music, and talk. June had changed from her day dress to those saddle- stitched lissom body-hanging jeans and her clinging sweater without a bra to spoil the punch of her nipples against the woven nylon. Brenda had on a delicious mini-skirt and a low-cut blouse. June had insisted the lovely leggy blonde had gone back to the cabin to take her nylon pantie-hose off and to fit on a suspender belt with ordinary dark nylons.

Normally, with such a short skirt, Brenda would never dream of a belt - but she was alone with the dark-haired girl she now really loved, and saw no reason why she should not give way to her wishes. By all means let June be roused by the glimpses of her bare thigh and black suspenders, she reasoned.

A storm had broken, rain pounding heavily on the long row of cabins and car ports - but the two pretty English girls had been cosy and comfortable, swapping tales, comparing notes, musing about how odd it was that their greasy boss didn't mind his wife seeing his amorous attempts, running down men in general and the departed manager in particular and ... and then came the crunch of a car on the ground gravel drive out front.

Off the beaten track, only busy for a couple of months a years just about surviving the rest of the season, Cerise Lake Ranch House was the last place to draw a passing motorist late at night in the middle of a rainstorm ... unless it was someone who had come specially on business.

Jake and Gordy had arrived. Whatever their business was, they certainly did not seem to be insurance men. The blubber mouthed sensual Jake looked a typical hoodlum. The thin-lipped, evil Gordy was even more to be feared. It seemed to the girls that their happy carefree trips through the States and Mexico were coming to a sticky end. This was what they had been warned about - and they had laughed it off. They thought they could look after themselves. Well ... now was the time to see!

 

"They're just a couple of small-time gangsters," June whispered confidently as she and Brenda fixed ham and eggs for their unwelcome visitors. She was far from fooling the confidence she expressed.

"I suppose so," Brenda nodded. "But they do seem to be from the owner. Maybe we're being a bit silly, though. They could be just showing off, you know, having a laugh at the two innocent English girls with their fancy talk and guns and things."

"No, don't fool yourself about that," June replied, her husky voice serious. "I'm going to telephone the police. You serve them, and if they ask where I am, say I've gone to the ladies. They can hardly be surprised! I'll use the extension phone in our room."

Brenda took the big plates over to where the men sat by the fireplace. She was terribly conscious of her suspenders and stocking-tops and the way they showed beneath her micro-skirt. She felt the men looking with hard interest as her bare thighs were exposed almost to her panties when she had to bend forward and put the plates on an occasional table. She gave a startled cry at a sudden touch on the top of her thighs where her scarlet panties clung to her rounded buttocks. It sent a wave of terror through her very nerve.

It was Gordy. He had reached up under the inch or so skirt and let his fingers probe the cleft of her bottom.

"So you wear panties?" he chuckled. ''Thought maybe you wouldn't bother seeing so much of you is bare!"

The young blonde swung round, her face flushed and angry. "You ... how dare you? Don't you touch me ... you ... you ..." She was speechless with a disconcerting mixture of fear, anger and embarrassment.

The snake eyes stared at her pretty face, making her blush still more. There was a gloating evil smile on those cruel lips, and a certain menace in the stillness of his body as though he could sit and watch without having to move no matter what he did.

"Where's da dark one - she don' wear no bra - dat's for sure!"

It was the round faced gunman, his piggy eyes tearing away from Brenda's low-cut blouse and heaving breasts with a certain amount of reluctance to swivel round to the kitchen and check June wasn't there.

"She's ... she's gone to the ladies!" Brenda gasped, wondering how like a lie it sounded. "You startled her so ..."

"Now dat I would like to see," giggled the slimy Jake and he began to eat noisily.

Gordy's smile widened fractionally. "She'll be back," he muttered. He too began eating, pausing only to give u knowing smile of mockery when June came in, her face creased with a worried frown.

"The lines must be down," she whispered to Brenda.

"But ... no, I bet they cut them!" the blonde gasped. Something about the enormous confidence of the awful Gordy told her he had them trapped - and he knew it! "He ... that one ... he tried to touch me ...under my skirt! You know! Oh my God, these men are beasts ... I know it!"

The girls became silent. Both wore thinking of rape. "Let's get out ... most of our stuff is on the Thunderbird. I'd rather go than stay here all night with these two. They'll ... well, let's just go!"

June, sensible as always, had decided and Brenda always agreed. They waited until the men had finished their ham and eggs.

"Coffee?" June asked.

"Sure - with cream, honey! Even if it's your own!"

"I'll just get a fresh tin. Oh, Brenda, get the plates and wash up, will you?" Taking care to keep her backside out of reach, Brenda took up the crockery and walked through the kitchens, rattling the plates in the sink and turning water on. June was loudly saying she couldn't find any coffee. "I'll get some from the stores," she added, unaware of the hard smile on Gordy's evil face.

Sure," he growled. "Don't be too long, honey. We'll be missing you!"

The girls slipped out of the back door and ran through the rain for their car. It was in the port alongside their chalet, furthest from the view of the lake. June slid into the driving seat. The hood was down, but they had no time to waste. Anyway, they were both soaking wet already. She turned the ignition key on. Nothing at all happened. Not even the little red light to show it was on.

"Oh my God! It must be the battery!"

"It can't be!" Brenda gasped. "It was fine last time we used it. Try again!"

"You need a battery, honey."

The mocking voice made them both cry out with surprise. It was Gordy. He had a revolver pointed in their direction. Jake stood beside him, his stupid face creased in a wide grin.

June swallowed the lump in her throat. She managed to keep her husky voice level and steady as she said, "I demand that you give us back our battery! If you don't, we'll simply walk out of here! You can't stop us!"

"Honey, we can stop you easy," the flat voice grated. "These guns have a habit of stopping birds like you, so sound off all you like, but get out of that junkyard and come back inside. I want to see how you look with your clothes soaking wet. I bet your little blonde friend here looks great with that thin blouse on."

"An' de dark one's tits ... bet day show more dan ever! Like I told you, she don' wear no bra ..." Jake chimed in.

"Seems we won't argue which girl goes to bed with which of us," Gordy sneered. "Friend Jake likes little miss tight-arsed jeans and I go for the blonde bit of tail. Seems you girls are in for a lively night for once in your lives ... maybe after the first few times we'll change over and give you both a turn. Now come on back inside and we'll get those wet clothes off you double quick."

June and Brenda got out of the car. For a moment they stood there, then suddenly the resourceful June was putting up a fight! She swung a heavy shoulder-bag into Gordy's face, the long strap making it fly round in a vicious are. Brenda, realising it was escape or rape, snatched one of the heavy stones from the rockery beside the carport and hurled it at Jake who was moving in on the bag-swinging brunette. It glanced off his face, and with a snarl of pain he made a grab at June's arm and twisted her round like a shield. Brenda had another stone. She threw it at Gordy, but missed. As she bent to pick up another he kicked her in the back of the leg and she sprawled face down, screaming as his boot thudded into her waist and again into her side.

"Bren!" June yelped, and tried hard to break free of Jake's powerful grip. He just jerked her other arm round and twisted her wrists behind her back. She dropped the bag, found herself bent forward, trying to struggle, and watching in horrified amazement as Gordy used his right foot repeatedly kicking Brenda's squirming body and muttering "Bitch! So you want to be smart? We'll play games, eh? Oh yes, I'll play games with you baby! I'll play with you till you beg!"

The gasping blonde struggled to her knees. As she straightened up, Gordy kicked her with really savage force low in her stomach. She collapsed, a gurgling half-unconscious bundle.

"Take your one in, I'll bring in this bitch!" Gordy mouthed and June found herself manhandled and forcibly frog-marched back into the motel by her strong captor.

"Oh baby, you're sure gonna be sorry," Jake was laughing delightedly. "Nobody hits me or Gordy an' gets a-way with it! Honey, I'm hard already thinkin' 'bout how you's gonna pay and pay good."