Mastering the Virgin Box Set Five: A BDSM Ménage Erotic Romance novel Chapter 5

Richard

Once more, we drive, covering the same ground, when, with a jolt, James sits upright. “There’s the signal again! It’s only a mile or so away, on the road, back the way we came.”

His fingers dance over his keyboard as he zooms in on the signal, pausing only to clutch at the dashboard as Michael makes a screeching one-eighty turn. The three of us press back in our seats as he accelerates hard, the smell of burning rubber blooming through the air.

Screaming down the winding mountain road, we break out from the dark enclosure of the pines and as we take a corner, swaying into the turn as we do so, the headlights swing onto a running figure….

No…. Two running figures….

It’s Charlotte, racing pell-mell, dragging Elizabeth behind her, almost towing her….

She’s done it!

She’s fucking done it!

Whatever you want Charlotte….

…. Anything you want….

But as the headlights catch them, Charlotte twists around, the lights directly in her eyes. Even from here, her expression, feral with calculation, is clear.

She U-turns, almost spinning to run the opposite way, her fingers gripping Elizabeth’s wrist, hauling my wife behind her….

All she can see is glare….

As she turns, Elizabeth stumbles, losing her footing, but Charlotte yanks her upright, dragging her along and away.

Michael slaps a hand on the wheel. “Fuck! They don’t realise it’s us.”

Elizabeth is staggering, clearly exhausted. But Charlotte doesn’t release her grip, leaning into her stride as she pulls her along. In the dark, I struggle for a moment to find the window switch, but as it slides down, I yell out, then lean out, waving. “Elizabeth! Charlotte! It’s us….”

My wife is slow to react, her movements sluggish. But Charlotte spins on her axis, still with Elizabeth swinging behind her, and now, running directly for us, is shouting something at us, her free arm gesturing wildly….

What’s she saying?

…. but within seconds her message is overtaken by events as car lights swing onto us from off-road. Another vehicle races up the hill towards us, towards the fleeing women.

Michael curses and slams onto the accelerator, but it’s not clear who will reach the women first. Spot-lit by beams from three directions, Charlotte halts, hovers for a fraction of a second, then suddenly releases Elizabeth, shoving her in our direction, gesticulating and screeching instructions at her.

My wife totters towards us, but Charlotte dashes off to one side, vanishing into the darkness, and one of the cars turns to follow.

“Shit!” spits James. “We can’t follow both!”

“Neither can they…” mutters Michael, his foot still hard on the gas as he helter-skelters towards Elizabeth. “Get ready to pull her in,” he shouts back to me, but I’m already half hanging out of the back door, reaching for my Love.

She can see me and in the harsh light of the headlamps, her eyes are desperate, swollen, her face white and tear-streaked as, seeing me, arms outstretched, she screams my name.

As we are all but on top of her, Michael jams on the brakes, in a tyre-shredding, teeth-jarring deceleration, but the other car is almost on us.

“Get her in!” he yells as, our own vehicle still moving, I encircle my wife, lifting her clear off her feet as I haul her in. As soon as I have her inside, without even the door closed, with a gut-slinging turn, we set off at speed.

For a moment she lies floundered across my lap, sobbing and wailing helplessly, but there is no time for hesitation as, outside the car, shots shriek and bullets jump….

With every shot, Elizabeth whimpers, burying her face in my chest. “Charlotte,” she whispers. “She got us out, got us away.”

I hold her tight. “We're not abandoning her….”

The car swings violently as Michael swerves, driving at reckless speed around some object in the dark. All the while, James guides him with bare words and gestures that, to me, not in their loop, feel like some weird telepathy.

James peers out and down at where bullets skip and jump. “They’re going for the tyres…”

Again, Michael treads hard to the floor, and the car shrieks away into the night, following Charlotte’s direction….

But now we have two cars giving chase, shots firing as we skid madly from side to side, Michael swerves crazily to swing the headlights back and forth across our path, to avoid boulders, trees and gulleys, any one of which might be the hiding place for Charlotte.

Elizabeth emerges from my embrace, still shaking violently, but now watching the view ahead, such as it is. The headlights beam ahead into a bright blindness of trees, scrub and rocks, but with no sign of our quarry.

Where is she?

To have rescued Elizabeth, at the cost of losing Charlotte….

How would I ever look them in the eye again?

But there is no sign of her, and with shots ricocheting all around us, it is only a matter of time before our pursuers succeed in taking out the tyres….

I can’t say anything…

…. I just can’t….