Chapter 4: Caught (A Serial) by Reilly and Nan - {Chapter 4}

Herbert knew there would be no way to cover this up, their only hope was to try to get to the forest, “Cyndi, we’ll try. We have to move quickly, when my supervisor doesn’t report for work they will come looking for him and they’ll find him here.” He grabbed her leash and handed it to her, they had to look like… like what? Like a clerk taking his meatgirl out for a late night walk? He knew this was ridiculous. No, he would tell whoever asked that she was not working out and he was turning her in to that Palace! He congratulated himself on his brilliance. Cyndi stood there, “so beautiful,” he thought, he took her hand and kissed her, “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Cyndi swayed on her feet. The Supervisor lay dead, his blood pooling under his head. Herbert was panting, agitated. It was too much to believe, but she wanted to, she cleared her raw throat and spoke.

“Haven? You’ll take me there?”

Herbert nodded, eying the door and then the body of the supervisor. Cyndi could not look at the dead thing on the floor. Bruises were darkening on her body wherever that monster had pounded and pinched. She ached so hard, so deep inside. She craved a soft cocoon, soft voices, Susan, soothing kisses. She leaned against Herbert, a little sing-song whisper escaping her lips. “Never leave, always here. Stay within, no despair.”

“What? I don’t–?” Herbert was distracted, grabbing credits, anything he could carry that might help them. Cyndi moved between Herbert and the drawer he was rifling. Her knees began to buckle and she reached for him.

Cyndi winced as he caught her and hugged her tight. She caught Herbert’s chin, stared into his eyes and said, “I was just wishing us to Haven. We can be safe there. But I can’t– I don’t want to go alone. Please. Herbert?”

He nodded.

“Now?” Cyndi felt dizzy. This city man –he would take her there? And not leave? She beamed.

Walking out she grabbed his hand, he squeezed hers back, “We can’t be obvious”, he opened his hand, she slid hers away, and it broke his heart to see her eyes acknowledge this reality. Boarding the bus, he took a seat and she stood in front of him, she got close enough so their knees touched, and he felt that helped, a little. A drunk supervisor approached them from the back of the bus, he caught an older man watching the scene unfold, out of the corner of his eye.

Cyndi shivered in the night air. If she went too fast, the leash brought her up short, and she almost choked a bit. Outside! Walking! Even on a leash it was good. Even if Herbert made her be his property again. She couldn’t talk, she must be bare, even in the night chill, but what hurt worst was the moment he’d let go of her. He was still City, not hers. He keeps leaving me, she thought, but this time–this time he’d promised—hadn’t he? Cyndi’s body ached, each step sent echoes of the Supervisor’s assault through her. Herbert led them onto a bus, where was he taking her? Her eyes were wild, she tried to hide her gaze from the drunken man approaching them.

“Nice animal you got here Clerk. What the hell are you doing with it outside.”

“She’s not working out, gonna trade her in at the Palace.”

The man stroked her thigh, “You’re kidding right? I know you can get some credits for a trade in, but look at the meat on this one, you Clerks are retarded!”

“I could use the credits to buy another one.”

“Well if she’s going to the palace, mind if I use that mouth for a few minutes?” He squeezed Cyndi’s face hard.

“Listen, Sir, I would ask that you…”

The man pushed Cyndi to the floor, Herbert had seen enough, he pushed him away, “Stay away from her!”

Cyndi felt the bus rock as the man fell heavily onto the floor behind her. The collar choked her but she didn’t care. Herbert! He was fighting for her!

“Help me?” Cyndi held out her hand and Herbert pulled her to her feet. The leash dangled from her collar, unattended. Cyndi held fast to Herbert’s hand. It didn’t matter now. She knew it was crazy, but she couldn’t stop smiling. They were in such terrible trouble, but she couldn’t remember being this happy…since forever, since before the City. Since Susan. So long ago. She gripped Herbert’s hand with both of hers and smiled at him.

“Who do you think you are Clerk!” the man raised his fist and came at Herbert, but this time there would be no retreat. Suddenly the man collapsed in a heap, and a sweet smiling old man stood behind him, brandishing a taser.

“Herbert my boy, you have a true fire in your belly. Please excuse me, Cyndi dear.” He motioned to the driver, “Pull over Roger, we’ll dump the drunk and then head back to home.”

After laying him on a curb, the old man sat across from them, he motioned for Cyndi to sit, crossed his legs. “My name is Jeremiah, I’ve come to help you.” They looked confused. “Which one of you scrawled the message for the unseen on the wall?”

Cyndi spoke up, “It was me, Sir.” He was Unseen! She had the urge to kneel and sing the Lauding Song. Jeremiah scowled at her as she made to kneel, and Cyndi froze next to Herbert. Build him a fine bower in the woods, she thought –This man must be honored!

“Ok none of this sir crap, I’m Jeremiah, right?” They both nodded. “Very brave of you little lady, probably saved you and your boyfriend’s life. We’ve been watching you, trying to find the right time to make contact, but you forced our hands when you killed your supervisor. He must really love you, little lady.”

They held hands, for the first time in a very long time Herbert felt things might actually be alright. Cyndi leaned against Herbert, soaking in his warmth, nodding at this strange old, wild-eyed man. She whispered to Herbert, “Oh, Herbert. You are so brave. So good.” She nestled closer, beaming again. Did he love her? She couldn’t stop smiling. The Unseen! This man wouldn’t meet her eyes. She shivered, drew in closer to Herbert. This stranger, Jeremiah, seemed sort of like a Hunter. His eyes never stopped roving over her body, that’s how it felt, he had a toothsome smile stretching out his wrinkled face, but he never smiled into her eyes. Cyndi shook off her misgivings, it was all just too much. She murmured a short Thankfulness Song and smiled wider every minute.

They sat together, Herbert and Cyndi retelling their stories for Jeremiah, he smiled and offered encouraging comments the whole way through. They barely noticed when the bus pulled off the road, onto a dirt path and finally pulling into a covered garage. Jeremiah stood, “This old bus has been a godsend. Come on you two, let’s get you inside.”

Inside there were men and women waiting to greet them, they applauded as the three got off the bus. Rushing at them to introduce themselves and offer congratulations, shake their hands, a few of the women kissed Herbert!

Cyndi frowned. It wasn’t that she was jealous, but…what was wrong with them, the women? Something strange. Cyndi shook her head and decided it was just the confusion of all this happening at once–such a happy confusion for once! She hummed the Haven song and looked around her. Yes. This place was haven, wasn’t it?

Jeremiah pushed them all back, “Ok they’ll be time for more hero worship later, for now let’s get them to their room.” He stood between the two of them, grasped their hands, “Come with me?” Herbert hesitated for a second, but the old man’s momentum and the smile on Cyndi’s face drew him in. Jeremiah took them to a private room, “This is yours until we can get you back to the forest. It’s simple I know. We all meet for meals together, so I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned to leave and then stopped, “You’re safe here.” He closed the door as he left.

Looking at Cyndi, Herbert smiled, she came in close and they held each other tight. Looking deep into his eyes, she led him to the bed. Cyndi beamed as Herbert unlocked the collar and took it from her neck. Herbert tilted his head and gently kissed her tender skin, murmuring soothing words as he made his careful way down her soft skin, avoiding bruises. Cyndi petted him, caressing his hair, his shoulders, his neck. She sensed his hesitation—but she wanted just as much.

“Don’t stop, please. Please.” Their eyes met, blazing fire and sweetness, joy, so many things passed between them, and for the first time, there was no collar choking her, holding back her breath, and Cyndi whispered, “I love you, Herbert. Love me?”

He moaned and pulled her close, strong and sure. They made love, it was deep and passionate, as a man and woman, and they held each other, exhausted, as they finally slept through the night.

In the morning they sat among the smiling faces at the long breakfast table. Food was passed to and fro and everyone grabbed what they wanted. Cyndi appreciated that she could wear some clothes again, even though the outfit they left her didn’t conceal much. “Everyone is so… nice”, thought Herbert, “but it just didn’t feel right.” He tried to place what made him feel ill at ease, the men were nice, and all the women appeared happy… the women? Jeremiah interrupted his thoughts, placing a bowl in front of him, “Take a taste of this Herbert my boy, my own special energy mix!” Jeremiah watched as he tasted it, his hands resting on Cyndi’s shoulders, starting to dig in tighter.

It tasted like dirt, but brandishing a false smirk, he turned to say something nice to the old man who had helped them. However, when his head turned everything moved in slow motion. The women, they all had Adam’s apples, women don’t have…Cyndi was calling to him but she seemed so very far away, then she was grimacing and the old man was pushing her to the floor, then…

Jeremiah placed his foot on Cyndi’s back, pressing her into the cold cement, “You see folks, these poor souls are tormented enough. They fall in love and risk everything, so why make it worse for them? Our job is to fix this man!!!”

Everyone applauded Jeremiah, “Recovery! Re-cover- REE!”

“Henrietta pick up the meat, bring it to my room.” Henrietta smiled.

Cyndi shrieked as Jeremiah’s fingers gouged her, and then she was being pushed, she was falling, and Herbert? Herbert?! She screamed for him to save her but he didn’t come. He slumped onto the table, and he couldn’t seem to move. Cyndi felt clawing hands on her as a brawny woman pulled her away from the table and shouldered her down the hall. Cyndi screamed, “Herbert, wake up! Wake up!”

“He’s gonna be out for awhile, girl,” Henrietta boomed. She pulled Cyndi off her wide shoulders and lowered her to the floor outside Jeremiah’s room.

“You—you’re—not a –” Cyndi stared at Henrietta’s thick ankles, her square jaw.

She looked back to the dining room. None of the women were real. None of them.

“Why are you doing this?” Cyndi wailed.

Henrietta cocked an eyebrow at Cyndi and peered down at her, hands on her hips. “City ways, little girlie-girl. Herbert done broke the Law. Can’t have that, can we? You’ll see. Oh, you’ll see, alright.” Henrietta clomped up the hall as Jeremiah reached them.

“Harlots they were and Jezebels that poisoned the honest Clerk and tainted his mind with sick love and evilness!” Jeremiah grabbed Cyndi’s hand, jerked her up and pushed her into his room and locked the door. Cyndi knees hit the cracked tiles. Her head spun and she fought to clear it, she tried to recite a Calming Song. “Soothe me Mother, take me from this place—”

“Not one word of your deviltry, Demoness!” Jeremiah smacked Cyndi hard on her mouth. He grabbed filament tape and bound her wrists to opposite posts of his narrow bed.

“Seductress! Wanton whore! Do you know what it will take for us to save him?”

Cyndi’s lip bled and puffed, and she watched him. Her hands ached, and her fingers tingled when she tried to move them. “Please, Sir.” She regretted it the moment she’d spoke.

Jeremiah punched her this time, one fist plowing into her belly, and the other grazing her cheek. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see. Tears streaked her face as Jeremiah tore the flimsy fabric of her dress away and exposed her nakedness. “Bare as a meatgirl! But no! You run away from your place! Your PLACE, girl!”

Jeremiah slapped her as he knelt between her legs. Each time she cried, his cock grew a little larger. He stopped, panting, then grabbed her hips and shoved himself inside the weeping girl. His rant became a series of sharp grunts as he raped Cyndi. Cyndi twisted, but could not get away from him. Jeremiah drew out of her only to slam inside her backside, cursing her with every thrust.

“This! Is! Your! PLACE! You ruined whore!” he screamed and rammed her deep with every word. At last he spent himself and dragged himself off Cyndi and pulled on his pants. Cyndi lay on the bed. She barely moaned when he cut her wrists free. Jeremiah pulled her off the bed and slung her over a shoulder not quite as wide as Henrietta’s, and carried her to his car. He threw her to the ground and opened his trunk, then picked her up, tossed her in and slammed the rusty trunk closed.

Cyndi murmured in the dark, as quietly as she could. “Herbert. Susan.” She curled into a ball on her side, turned her face away from the oily rags beneath her and tried to sing herself to any kind of peace that she could find. She’d sung the Calming Song and was chanting Havensong again, when the car stopped, the trunk door popped open and she was blinded by the light. Cyndi smelled Jeremiah’s fusty breath as he took a minute to run strapping tape around her ankles and wrists before he hauled her out of the trunk. They were parked in front of a long building. It smelled terrible outside. Smoke billowed from chimneys at the back. A row of huge trucks were taking on cargo further down.

She squinted against the light and read the fading sign stenciled on the wall as Jeremiah carried the bound girl up the stairs. “Feed Factory Drop-Off Docket” appeared in two foot-high letters. A yellowing sign tacked next to a sturdy metal door read “Claim credits Monday-Friday 9-3 PM only. See Mgr.”

Jeremiah hit the Call button, and an attendant buzzed them inside. A Formica counter separated Jeremiah and Cyndi from the receiving clerk. Behind the counter, running down both walls were rows of connected cages, about four feet tall, stacked three high. The sign above the east wall read “Dog/Cat.” Above the cages on the west wall it said “D- Grade/Silage.” Just behind the clerk in the center of the room was a cement floor. The sign above the floor was marked “Receiving/Grading.” There were girls there, on the floor, bound and stacked like cordwood. At first, Cyndi thought they were dead, but then she saw the topmost girls shift and she heard the moaning from the girls below.

Dropping her on the cold counter, Jeremiah spoke. “This whore isn’t good enough to feed a rabid cat. I’d D-grade her, Clerk, if I were you.”

“Degrade her? Ha, that’s a good one, D-Grade, I get it,” the Clerk blathered. His eyebrows shot up as he took a closer look at Cyndi. “Damn,” he whispered. He thumbed a button and spoke into the intercom. “Robson? Yeah, it’s me. Got a special one in just now. Come see.”

The Clerk turned to Jeremiah and said, “You Recovery Guys got all the luck, how come you ain’t a hunter, though?” The clerk crossed to the credit machine and swiped Jeremiah’s card.

“I do the Lord’s work, my boy. Bringing food for the poor animals, bringing sense back to the errant in our Brotherhood.”

“Yeah, right, buncha whacked out trannies and Bible thumpers,” the Clerk muttered under his breath. He handed Jeremiah his credit voucher, and the Recovery Team leader tossed Cyndi onto the Receiving pallet before he walked out the door.

Supervisor Sullivan was bored with this stringy thing. He had found her being fondled by an attendant, who told him she had a great mouth. He had kept her in his office, at first she was a fun distraction, but her weeping was getting on his nerves. He was trying to get work done and she would begin moaning these ridiculous chants, and crying, he had enough. Maybe he would bring her home and let the boy try her out, the knock at the door interrupted his train of thought, “What?!”

“Attendant Robson sir, oh I see you still have the girl?”

“I haven’t decided to demerit you for not telling me first Robson, now go!”

“Yes Sir, of course. However maybe I can make it up to you, Sir. We had a nice brunette dropped off by the Recovery team, she’s on the floor now. If you want..?”

“Just go get her, let’s see what she looks like.”

Cyndi tried not to hurt the girls below her. The Clerk! Oh, her heart had nearly stopped, this man looked so much like Herbert, right down to the clothes he wore—but no. This clerk had gripped her bonds and tossed her onto the pile of girls. When she’d landed, a fetid scent arose, a horrible stench of sickness, pain and death. She heard a girl below her, begging, hysterical. “She’s dead, she’s dead, get her OFF me, get her Off me!” Cyndi shuddered as she heard the blond girl next to her release a stream of urine. She sobbed and said, “I can’t hold it anymore, oh god, so sorry, so sorry.” Beneath her, another girl began to gag and wretch.

Cyndi turned her head away from the blond and found that she could just make out the factory floor beneath this receiving room. There were conveyor belts running parallel to the cages and she could see Clerks lifting women out of the cages and tossing them onto the belts. They traveled through a steamy water bath after the clerks had stripped them of their clothes. Cyndi watched the steamy-clean girls, still bound hand and foot as they traveled further down the belt to teams of rubber-suited men who shoved huge hoses into them and forced their bellies to empty out. The stench rose up in waves, huge fans sucked in the air over the busy factory floor.

She shivered as she saw the girls pushed further down the line and steam applied directly to their skin, shot out at high pressure from hoses. The sign above the belt said, “Keep Our Pets Healthy! Steam Out Every Spot!” There was a large picture of a puppy and kitten cavorting through a flowery meadow. And just beyond the steam cleaner–Oh Mother, save us all–Cyndi felt sick. She saw a tunnel, flashing blades lining the boxy entrance, and screams of girls cut off in a liquid crash of well-lubricated steel slicing into soft flesh. Cyndi clenched her body tight, and her heart tighter. But she needed more, she needed hope. Cyndi wondered why the Elders never sang of hope for girls like her. She saw pink spray at the opposite end of the long tunnel, and piles of red emerge.

“Yeah, get her off that stinking pile of cat food and over here!” Attendant Robson pointed at Cyndi. The clerk grabbed the tape around Cyndi’s ankle and pulled her down from the top of the pile. As he hauled her off the pile and onto Robson’s cart, her head thudded against the filthy bodies of weeping girls. Cyndi felt each jolt as Robson’s electric cart whizzed down a hall and into the Supervisor’s office.

“Not bad, could use a clean up though. Tell ya what Robson, get her cleaned up and bring her back and I’ll forget the demerit.”

“Yes sir!” “Oh and Robson, get rid of this.”

Robson laid Cyndi back on the cart then plopped the crying girl next to her. He placed his foot on the pedal and the little cart sped off. Barely stopping on the main floor, he tossed the Supervisor’s girl-trash on top of the pile and hurried to his assignment. Cyndi watched the poor girl tumble to the base of the pile as they sped off. Other girls moaned and tumbled down on top of her. Cyndi gasped for breath. She could hardly see through her tears.

In the shower room he dropped Cyndi on the floor, grabbed a brush and began to clean her. Taking time to remove his clothes, he savored the feel of her wet skin, and masturbated constantly, “You couldn’t have come at a better time sweetheart, oooh, what a mouth, put me in there!” He shoved his member into her, “tighten your lips whore!!”, fucking her mouth as Cyndi lay there, her head thumping against the tile, water pelting her as her future followed the mix of blood and dirty water down the drain. Feeling him grab her thighs, pull her open, licking her sex, his grunting, his pleasure.

She sobbed and gagged and felt him suffocating her. She didn’t care. Herbert was dead, or gone, she had only hazy memories of last night—had it really happened? She didn’t think so. The angry clerk who held her now, the one who forced her thighs apart to taste her, this was what was real. All there was in the City was pain and death. Cyndi had stopped crying. She turned her head to the wall and let her vision blur.

In the lunchroom the other employees gawked and giggled as Cyndi sat beside him. Conrad was a transvestite, he had an idea, “Supervisor is going to enjoy her! Here let’s doll her up a bit.” He opened his bag and began to remove his makeup, “There we go, accent those pretty pink lips, a little rouge; these cheeks are just too pale! Just a hint of eyelash, cover that cut on her head, and look at that she’s ready for the palace!! Robson looked, the lipstick was thick and glossy, she looked like a dessert; this would get him in good with the Supervisor!

She was just some numb thing now. A doll? Yes, she’d be a doll. The men giggled like Small Ones around her, toying with her hair, fussing with her clothes. Cyndi didn’t care. Herbert was gone, Haven was so far away, Susan was only a sweet dream. She was nothing but a toy now, and Cyndi thought that it would be ok, if she didn’t scream.

Hebert did not know how long he had been in the darkness or how long it had been since he had eaten. The darkness would form shapes sometimes, they seemed to mock him. He closed his eyes tight and tried to remember Cyndi, where was she, what had happened? The old man, Jeremiah, he had betrayed them. He had to get out. He had promised Cyndi, “Never again,” he whimpered it in the dark over and over.

Jeremiah watched him on the monitor, through the green pattern he saw Herbert rocking back and forth, mumbling, he strained to listen in… never again? “Good boy. He’s ready for the next phase, bring him to the theater.”

When the light came on Herbert almost cried in pain. Two men lifted him up, he could not walk, his legs felt like rubber. They dragged him through the hall, pausing before two giant wooden doors, when they opened then he entered a rich, ornate room with plush seats, golden chandeliers and a giant movie screen. Jeremiah was calling him, “Herbert my boy! Over here, sit with me!” The men placed him next to Jeremiah and strapped his legs and arms in. “I was waiting for you. It’s ok Herbert, we’re going to help you. Will you let us help you?”

Herbert looked at the kindly face, it looked so sincere, concerned, he wanted to rip the man’s throat out and feed it to him. He answered quietly, “Please help me.” “You make me proud son. Now sit back relax and let’s watch a movie. Roll it!”

The screen flickered, numbers rolled then the music started and an announcer read the title, “So You Want to be With a Woman!” Images of war and devastation meld together, from the destruction a glittering city arises. A man walks into the picture, “Women, so beautiful, so soft, so tasty,” The man chuckles, “So why not be with them permanently? Well, my friend it took us generations to figure that out.”

As the man speaks scenes are enacted behind him. “Sure right now she loves you, but then again, remember she has to—” Cut to image of woman cooked and being placed on a table, “Am I saying it’s a defense mechanism, well I guess I am. Oh not your girl?! Don’t trust me friend, let history be your guide!”

It’s a wedding, Herbert had read about them in school, “Those were the days, soul-mates was the term that was used, love was a lifetime commitment. She couldn’t do enough for you, cook your meals, darn your socks, and every night your penis was her god. But look what happens only weeks after the ceremony was over.”

The image of a beautiful bride standing with her handsome groom burns from the center and through it emerges a living room. The man comes home, “Honey what a horrible day at work.” The woman is sitting on the couch, drink in her hand, hair a mess, “You think I have it easy?” The man is taken aback, “I was just saying, oh never mind. When’s dinner?”

“I couldn’t get to the store, I’m bored.”

“Well… I guess we could go out…let me just change. Oh yeah I have a rip in my jacket.”

“You make enough money, buy another one.”

“Yes, you are correct. Ok, well.. umm..” He starts to ascend the steps, “Hey wanna come upstairs and help me alleviate my tension.”

She stands up, “Always thinking about you! I have needs too you know!”

The image freezes, the narrator returns, “Oh boy, we don’t deserve to live like that. You know it, and I know it! What about all the wars that were started on their behalf?! Little thing like the Trojan War sound familiar? That’s why our forefathers had the insight to separate the sexes. Once apart we could finally think straight!” The music gets dark, somber, thoughtful, “Man is a predator. You are a predator! Women… are the prey.”

After the movie ended, Jeremiah had his hand around Herbert’s shoulders. “I trust you son. I know you will make the right decision. So just file that movie away somewhere and you figure it out for yourself.” He began to undo the straps, “These are no longer necessary. Let me help you up.” Herbert was rubbery.

Jeremiah bore his weight and helped him to a room. “She’s waiting for you my boy. If you want to stay with her, then fine, I’ll get you both back to the woods. But if I’m right, and you realize how wrong this is… you just say the word.”

Herbert was dizzy, starving, confused, but when the door opened his vision became blurred by tears. Cyndi stepped forward and draped her arms around him and he was home. Cyndi?

Bobby Sullivan hated his father. Every year for his birthday it was some skanky piece of dog meat. He would play with it for a few days, then feed it to his pet, that was usually his favorite part. He never could have imagined the surprise his father had for him this year; she was beautiful, with thick lush brown hair, and sweet tender meat on her bones!. Dad had even taken the time to have her decorated like candy, he did love him! This was going to be the best birthday ever.

He was huge, but was he grown? Something was so different about this man. His eyes danced over her, he stood surrounded by broken toys, real ones, mechanical things stripped, their parts scattered on this boy-man’s floor, whole models torn apart, as if to see what made them work, now ruined, soft things exploded, the stuffing of toys scattered and lodged in corners. Cyndi watched him as he watched her. She tried to keep her face composed. She was a doll now.

“Candy girl. Candy! Can-DEE!” His voice was a strange combination—sing-song and wheedly-imperative. Up close, Cyndi could see a rough stubble of beard darkening his face. This was no boy, but he held his hands on his hips like a little pouting child.

“You talk to me, you are Bobby’s girl candy now, say that! Say it!” He raised a hand to smack her, his lower lip stuck out.

Cyndi cried out, hoarsely, “Bobby’s candy!”

Bobby lumbered up to her nodding, fondling himself through his pants. He grabbed her nipples and tugged them forward, then used his index fingers to push them hard and deep against her ribcage.

“Ha! Bee-Beep!” He poked at her repeatedly. “Bee-Beep! Bee-Beep!”

Cyndi heard a papery slithering sound coming from behind him. He grinned and followed her gaze. Around the corner, out of sight, there was a splash and a croaking rasp. Bobby grinned at her and grabbed Cyndi’s arm and dragged her around the corner.

“You want to meet my doggie? Here, doggie doggie, ha ha ha!” Grabbing Cyndi’s upper arms and pressed her against a barred iron doorway. He leaned against Cyndi’s back, looking over her shoulder, making little smacking noises to summon the animal slithering out of the pond.

Bobby pinned Cyndi tight against the wide-spaced bars as he forced her thighs apart and rammed himself hard into her. The crocodile turned his massive head and began ambling toward the struggling girl. The Man-boy was humping her furiously now as the crocodile came within a breath of her, so close she thought it would stick out its tongue and taste her.

“That’s Doggy! He eats Croc-Chow but mostly he likes fresh girls.”