Back in the kitchen, I found Mom and the witches gathered in a tight circle, arms around each other, with Lande muttering something just below my comprehension threshold. When they noticed me, Lande and Pan separated and pulled me into the circle. "Think about her the last time you saw her," Pan directed.
I was able to generate a mental picture of Eileen, lying on the bed, nude, her legs akimbo, waiting for me. "Something not quite so graphic, Will," suggested Mom.
"No, Connie; that's perfect, Will. Now, if you can, I know it was before you discovered your power, but try to get inside her mind, to get a sense of her, her mental fingerprint, as it were. Can you do that?"
Given the crazy kind of intimacy we had developed over the last couple of years, it was easier than it might sound. "I think I have it. Now what?"
"Since we have no idea where they might be, we will feed you power, like you did for Pan, while you search. Why don't you start with that man's home town?"
I nodded and began stretching out my mind, seeking Eileen's engrammes. It took nearly twenty minutes of intense concentration. It's certainly a hell of a lot easier to read a mind when the person's in the same room, and more or less conscious. When I finally recognized her, I realized I must have passed her over two or three times. I could barely read her until the women joined with me.
She was in that twilight state between sleep and awake when I finally was able to tap into her consciousness. The next next part of this narrative is her story, told to me by her when it was all over.
Eileen's story:
She hurried down the steps of the converted residence. Originally built as a double, it was now a five flat; the attic, converted to a loft which she shared with a friend from school. The street was almost empty since most of the people in the neighborhood were either young singles or empty nesters.
She was digging in her purse as she walked to her car. Part of her morning had been taken up with a telephone conference with her advisor, who had told her about her friend Will's grandfather. She planned on going out at lunch to get him a sympathy card and wanted to be sure she had enough cash.
She had just dropped her wallet back into her bag and unlocked the car when she sensed someone behind her. "Don't turn around," she heard a voice she'd never wanted to hear again say. "Get in the car and move to the passenger seat. No funny business or this ends here and now with you dead."
The voice brought back all sorts of emotions from the past. It was Earl, the man who had taken her and her single mother in after her grandfather, an evangelical preacher, had thrown them out of his house. Later, she had learned Earl demanded sex from her mother in return for his 'hospitality'.
Her mother had been required to participate in all sorts of degrading acts, including simultaneous multiple partners. Eileen had been forced to watch videos of her mother with four or five men at once using her body. When Eileen was twelve, Earl had tied her mother in a chair and forced her to watch as he raped Eileen. By the time he was done, the pre-teen wasn't any kind of virgin, and, by the end of the week, her mother had been forced out of the house.
For the next five years, through browbeating and physical intimidation, he had forced compliance from the young girl, educating her about his wants and needs by forcing her to watch the videos he had made of her mother. By the time she was seventeen, Eileen knew as much about sexual perversion and deviancy as the most debauched libertine.
Aware of her probable future with Earl, she had planned and executed her escape. Somehow, he had found her again. As he took the driver's seat, she resolved to do whatever she had to do to survive. "Earl..."
"Keep your fucking mouth shut, unless I ask you something, bitch!"
She cringed, hoping all he wanted was a revenge fuck, to get back at her for leaving and taking the money her mother had been sending for her. She recalled his routine the last several months she had been living with him, her senior year of high school.
He would come home from work, take off his coat and boots, grab her and drag her to the bedroom where, without saying a word, he waited for her to strip both of them. If she was too slow getting them undressed, he'd hit her, first a slap across the face, then a body blow if she didn't speed up.
Once naked, he forced her down on the bed, pushed a finger into her and finger fucked her to start her moisture, then he'd shove his 4-inch dick into her and pump until he squirted his juice. After ejaculating, he'd withdraw and pull her face to his groin and force her to suck him clean. Not until then would he say anything, and that was always, "How soon is supper?" She had learned early on that it had to be within the next fifteen or twenty minutes or she would get hard fucked again.
She expected him to drive to one of the cheap motels which ringed the city, but he surprised her. He headed into the Capitol District and continued into S-town, where he drove around for several minutes, as if he was looking for something. Finally, he pulled into a large strip mall, and parked behind the stores, next to a vehicle she immediately recognized as his work van.
Earl opened the door and turned to get out. "You come out this way, cunt, and no funny stuff; I'm warning you." His voice was low, and filled with menace. Eileen's stomach sank. She was sure this would turn out to be more than just the revenge fuck she had expected.
Earl dragged her to the back of his van and forced her inside. He was right behind her and forced her to her knees. "Give me your panties, cunt," he demanded. She reached under her dress and worked them down to her knees. He pushed her down onto her stomach and pulled them off her feet, balled them up and shoved them into her mouth.
"There, that should keep you quiet. Now, we'll have a little payback. I been missing your pussy and mouth since you been gone, 'n' I figure you owe me about three years worth of all-out fucking. It's time to start collecting."
She heard his zipper as he pulled it down, then his hand was rubbing her vulva, searching out her opening. His thick finger invaded her pussy and began to massage her cuntal walls, stimulating them to produce her lubricating fluids. "Fuckdam, girl, you're still as tight as a pinch purse! Ain't you been getting laid. Well, don't worry, Uncle Earl will see to it that you get plenty of cock up your slutty twat." And with that, he shoved what Eileen now recognized as a pitifully small dick into her. She almost laughed when she felt his penetration.
Earl fucked like a rabbit--several flurries of quick short strokes. True to form, it took barely a dozen such and he was squirting his spend in her. As he pulled out, she readied herself for the distasteful task of cleaning his prick, but he again surprised her. He pulled her hands behind her back, wrapped her wrists with some kind of tape and then went directly to the driver's seat, started the van and pulled into traffic.
There were no windows in the sides of the van, and when she attempted to move to see out the front, Earl snarled, "Get down and stay down, if you know what's good for you." From the stop and go, she realized they were still in city traffic. Eventually, she felt the van speed up and the traffic smooth out. She guessed they were on the expressway. Based on the angle of the sunlight coming in the rear windows, they were headed West, back toward the town where he had raised her.
From the traffic sounds she could discern through the sides of the van, Earl must have been driving relatively slowly, taking his time, letting even the tandem trailer trucks pass him. With nothing to distract her, or keep her attention, she fell into a troubled sleep, not waking until Earl pinched her nipple. "Hey there, cunt, did you miss me? I'm here to collect another one of the fucks you owe me."
He pulled her legs toward him, opening them, and pulling them over his shoulder. "Man that sure is a pretty little pussy you got there, Weenie," he observed, invoking a hated pet name he had used for her when she was a teenager. He positioned his face right over her vulva and drooled a large amount of spit directly into her vagina. He laughed and looked at her face, locking eyes with her, then straightened up and sank his dick into her, watching her eyes. She didn't flinch or react in any way. "Liked that, huh. I'll have to remember that." He paused, "so I don't do it again."
He repeated his rabbit like fuck, but before he squirted his seed in her, he pulled out and moved up to straddle her chest. "You bite, you die," he warned her, brandishing a box cutter. Reaching in her mouth, he grabbed the panty-gag and pulled it out. As she worked her jaws, he moved his hips forward and shoved his cock into her mouth. "Shitdam, girl, I missed this almost as much as I missed your cunt." He pushed his whole cock into her mouth and began his rabbit dance. It was only a matter of seconds before she felt his glans swell and her mouth was filled with his bitter deposit.
She looked up at his face, to see a look of evil anticipation, waiting for her reaction. With a total lack of visible emotion, she swallowed. "Good cunt. You keep cooperating, you might just live." Earl stood up, zipped up while straddling her, then reached down to retrieve the panties from the floor of the van. He shook the dust off them and balled them up again. "Open up," he ordered.
"Please, don't," she asked. "I'll be quiet."
"I know you will. Open up." He placed his foot on her chest, pressing just a little. He felt her body slump as she opened her mouth. "That's right; you just do as you're told. You'll get free of the gag soon enough." He pushed the panties back into her mouth. "Why not? It's not like I wiped your ass with 'em. Maybe I should, next time, or mine." He was sniggering at his own joke as he made his way back to the driver's seat. And they were back on the road.
There are seven rest stops between Albany and Rochester on I-90, the major East-West expressway between NYC and Chicago. Earl stopped at each of them. With some significant differences, they all followed the same pattern.
He'd park away from the other cars and make his way back to her through the van. Using the straps and other paraphernalia in the van, he'd arrange her like a porn star in some low budget production, then do his little rabbit dance, sometimes coming in her pussy, sometimes in her mouth. Once he fucked her ass and let his spend spatter all over her back. Without cleaning her up, he had just pulled her dress back down over her and returned to the road. Another time, he had pushed her dress up over her head and fucked her tits, the only time he paid them any attention. That time he had wiped the cum from her face with his finger and pushed it into her gag-filled mouth.
