Free For Honor’s Sake by Connie Mason

futile. Those Rod questioned either had seen nothing or for reasons of their own preferred to keep what they knew to themselves. He was at his wit’s end. He had no idea where Kelly could have taken Julie or what he intended to do with her, although Rod had an inkling of the fate that awaited her at the hands of Brute Kelly. No doubt Kelly meant to rape Julie. That was something, though unpleasant, she could live with. What Rod feared most was that the brute would kill her when he finished with her.
    Rod had no idea what caused him to glance into the alley. But he thanked God that he did. On the ground, nearly obscured in the dark, was a small, black slipper that Rod recognized immediately as belonging to Julie. Using the skills he learned as a youth he found fresh tracks made by a horse pulling a four-wheeled vehicle. Rod was elated. Mounting his horse, sharp eyes glued to the ground, he tracked the wagon as it headed southalong El Camino Real, offering a prayer of thanks for the brilliant moonlight.
    Julie swam through layers of blackness to surface into a nightmare more terrifying than any dream. Brute Kelly, his ugly countenance set with salacious intent, was methodically tearing off her clothes and Julie shivered as the cold air touched her bare flesh. Her eyes flew open, finding it difficult to focus on her assailant.
    Kelly sensed her awareness, smiling cruelly at her helplessness. “So you finally decided to join the living,” he gibed crudely. “I would have waited, though. I like my women with a little life in them.”
    Julie began struggling, the gag preventing her from crying out. “Slut!” Kelly said, slapping her sharply across the face. “Hold still or I’ll really hurt you. All I want to do is love you a little.” Julie moaned as her last piece of clothing was rent in two and cast aside. Sheer, black fright shot through her.
    Kelly began massaging Julie’s breasts, laughing in triumph when her nipples, reacting to fear as well as to the icy air, drew up into tight buds. Kelly’s mouth fastened onto one pink crest, his teeth clamping down cruelly. The scream of pain muffled by her bound mouth never left her throat as Kelly struggled to remove his own restricting clothing, cursing the limited space. Only then did Julie become aware of her surroundings, realizing that she lay on the hard boards of a wagon bed amid boxes and sacks of supplies.
    Finally Kelly had his pants off and moved to position himself above Julie’s slight form. He cut the ropes binding her legs together with his knife and spread her limbs wide apart. “I’m a lot better than that ‘greaser’ you married,” he bragged. “Once you’ve had a real man between your legs you’ll be begging me for more.”
    Finding her legs suddenly free, Julie began thrashing about, kicking with all her strength. While attemptingto subdue her wild gyrations, Kelly caught the back of his hand on a sharp splinter protruding from a split board on the wagon’s rough side. The splinter cut deeply, tearing the skin until a stream of bright blood spurted forth.
    “Shit!” exploded Kelly, startled at the sudden pain. “You damn bitch!” He was so incensed by her continued struggles that he dealt her a stunning blow with his uninjured hand, sending her spinning into oblivion.
    All resistance gone, Kelly returned to complete the act that was so rudely interrupted only moments before. Once again his hands dipped between Julie’s now limp legs and in the process inadvertently smearing fresh blood from his injury along the smooth velvety skin of her inner thighs. His manhood, thick and purple, throbbing eagerly, sought entry at the virgin portals where no man had ventured before.
    Brute Kelly never knew what hit him, so engrossed was he in his own pleasure. Without warning he was picked up bodily and thrown from the wagon by a spitting, snarling whirlwind of unleashed violence. When he finally recognized his enraged assailant all he could do was groan