Escape from Cimarron

Big Baby Blue was a car built for the long road. Steve sat back with one hand on her wheel, stretched his arm across the back of the seat, and let the sun warm his face. They were almost there--him and that big, old car--and the snowy peaks that grew gradually closer drew a jagged horizon above Cimarron.

Steve rolled to a stop at the hotel where, not long ago, gold miners rubbed shoulders with gun slingers, land barons, and thieves. Dusty pickups lined up along the street, and a row of Harleys leaned on their stands where travelers once tethered their rides.

The clerk worked behind a battered wooden counter darkened with time. "Check out's at one," he said and handed Steve a key. He didn't have much to say.

Steve bounced his bag on his bed and found a seat at the bar. "Rye," he told the barkeep. "Straight up." He glanced over his shoulder. A blonde with curly hair piled on her head wiped her hands on her apron and worked a dimly-lit room--bikers in leathers and bandannas on one side, and cowboys in black hats and bluejeans on the other.

The bartender set a shot glass in front of Steve with one hand and added a glass of water with the other. He picked up his dish towel and started drying glasses while the elk's head mounted above the mirror watched over his shoulder.

"That ragtop caddy out there--that yours?"

"'57 Eldorado," Steve said. "Picked her up just to drive her here."

"Ain't seen a car like that but in parades--you know, with beauty queens waving from the back. Where you comin' from?"

"New Guinea." Steve sniffed at his shot then slammed it. He put the glass down, braced himself, and a shudder went through his shoulders. "Damn!"

The waitress set her tray on the bar. She hopped onto the stool beside Steve and asked, "What's in New Guinea?"

"This is Josie," the bartender said. Josie held up four fingers on one hand and three on the other and he set up seven shots--three with Jacks and four with Cuervo.

Josie found Steve watching. "Bourbon for the cowboys. Tequila for the bikers," she said.

"There's a gold mine in New Guinea," Steve said. "I got out when the natives got restless."

"They might be gettin' restless here." Josie picked up her tray and Steve watched her little skirt sway on her way to the tables.

"Best knockers in town," the bartender said. "Not that you can tell from this side."

"Hit me again," Steve said.

The barkeep filled Steve's shot glass and spilled in a little extra. "New Guinea. Ain't that a long way from here?"

"I travel some." Steve tipped his glass to the keep. "Columbia next. But first I'm gonna see my kid sister graduate."

Josie climbed back onto her stool. "Sure you didn't get your dates mixed up? High school graduation was last week."

Steve took a lingering look down Josie's top. She straightened her back and made sure the ruffles didn't hide his view. "Good for tips. What's your name, stranger?"

"Cox. Steve Cox. She's graduating from the convent school."

The barkeep scratched his head. "There's a convent school?"

"You know," Josie said. "You see them nuns come to town, but mostly they keep to themselves."

A big laugh, loud and mean, came over Steve's shoulder. Someone bellowed Josie's name and she slipped off the stool. "Look," she said, with her hand on Steve's bulging bicep, "if you see me duck out the back, that means things in here is goin' south."

Steve spread his elbows on the bar and kept an eye on the mirror. This time he took the rye a little slower.

A chair hit the floor, and a biker squared up on a cowboy. The biker snarled, "Some respect for the little lady."

Josie gave a little "Eep!" and headed for the back door.

The cowboy that stood up to face the biker looked like he wrestled steers for the fun of it. He tipped his hat back as if he might have something to say, but then slammed a right cross into the biker's jaw. The biker's head snapped to the side, but he dove at the cowboy's chest and knocked him over the table.

The barkeep pulled a sawed-off shotgun from under the cash register while the cowboys and bikers swung fists and chairs. He checked the breech and closed the gun. "Just gonna sit there?"

"Not my fight." A chair hit the stool where Josie had been, and a biker threw a cowboy against the bar. The cowboy lurched into Steve, and Steve's whiskey splashed on the bar.

"Where'd you get your manners?" Steve pushed him away, and the cowboy took a blind swing that glanced off Steve's shoulder.

"That's it," Steve said. He shoved the cowboy back into the fight, and followed him in.

Steve caught a cowboy who stumbled into him and shoved him over a table. He ducked haymakers and turned, and he found himself back-to-back with a big biker. "We good?" he asked. "I'm Cox."

"Bear," the biker answered, and they took on anyone who dared--until the barkeep pumped his shotgun and blasted a round into the timbers overhead. The bikers and the cowboys were showered with dust and debris.

Steve caught sight of the clock over the door. "Gotta meet a nun!" he said, and stumbled out past the Harleys and the pickups. He straightened his back and brushed grit off his shirt.

A flag pole marked the post office just across the road. That's where he needed to be, but there wasn't a nun in sight until an old two-seater jeep skittered around the corner and rattled to a stop in a little cloud of dust.

"I'm Sister Clarice," The nun said. She hiked up her black tunic and climbed out of the jeep. "You're Steve Cox? Sorry I'm late, but it took a prayer and a kick to get Betsy started."

Sister Clarice walked around the jeep and gave Steve a close look. "I see the family resemblance." She touched her fingers to Steve's broad shoulder then pulled her hand back. "And differences. You look like you've been in a fight." She turned around, bent over Betsy's door, and came back with an envelope. "This is from Nita."

"Thanks for all you've done--getting Nita's letters out to me." Steve tore the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. He held it up in the sunset's last light to read, and he barely heard Clarice.

"Nothing your sister had to say would have reached you if I didn't bring them to town and mail them. Mother Superior screens all the outgoing mail. "

Steve's voice crackled with anger. "She says she can't leave. Someone named 'Father Thomas' is keeping her here."

Clarice watched the barkeep toss one cowboy out of the bar and then another and said, "We should go somewhere else. You have a room?"

"Second floor," Steve motioned toward the hotel, and Sister Clarice dug into Betsy again and came up with a first aid kit.

"Take me there." She tucked her hand around Steve's arm and pulled herself close. "I'll clean those cuts for you."

The clerk behind the desk watched Steve lead Sister Clarice through the lobby, and Steve whispered so he wouldn't hear. "Taking the barmaid to my room would feel normal. This is kinda awkward."

"Just unlock the door," Clarice peeked at Steve from under the edge of her black veil and a little smile curled her lips.

Steve closed the door behind them and sat down on the end of the bed while Clarice wet a washcloth in the sink. She held the cloth in one hand and lifted his jaw so he looked up at her. "Tell me why you're here. I know Nita's story. Tell me yours."

"Nita was a sassy kid. Our step dad couldn't handle her." He winced a little while Clarice scrubbed at his cheek. He didn't have anywhere else to put his hands, so he rested them on her hips. "He found your school, sent her away, and tried to forget about her."

"She was mad at everybody when she got here," Clarice said. "Your dad, the church, the world." Clarice peeled Steve's hand off her hip, stepped back a little, and scrubbed at his gashed knuckles. "She was mad at everybody but you."

"I didn't forget her. I saw her every year when y'all let me, but that was just for Christmas Mass. Then it was hard to come back from New Guinea, or Rwanda, or Borneo."

"Nita stopped being mad," Clarice said. "She started being frustrated, and then she kind of gave up." She wrapped Steve's hands with gauze. "But she memorized every word you sent her, and she read them to me. You were her world."

"It's time for me to take her back." Steve watched Clarice lean close again and turn her attention to the line of his jaw.

"Back to where?" she asked.

"To town. To university." Steve watched Sister Clarice and lifted his hand up from her waist. Her tit filled his hand. Her nipple thrust out under the fabric of her tunic. "Then maybe I'll go to hell, the way this is going."

Clarice laughed in Steve's ear. She leaned on his shoulder and reached to the bulge in the front of his jeans. "Being a man isn't a cardinal sin."

"But lust is." Steve unbuckled his belt and his hard cock sprang up.

"Deus meus," Sister Clarice said. "Nita didn't tell me about this!" She knelt between Steve's legs and wrapped a hand around his missile. She slid her grip down to the hilt of his shaft then wrapped her other hand around it. His cock stood out above both of her fists. Its veins bulged, and a drop of clear pre-cum trickled over its smooth head.

"Suck it," Steve said. He tucked his hand under Clarice's veil to the back of her wimple, and pulled her mouth to his throbbing cock. She resisted long enough to catch her breath then opened her mouth wide, and her lips stretched to wrap his thick shaft.

Sister Clarice engulfed Steve's cock in her mouth's wet warmth. Her tongue caressed him. She took him to the back of her mouth and slowly out again. She kissed his balls and slipped her tongue up along the length of his shaft.

Steve fell back on the mattress, and Clarice sent thrills through his tight muscles. Her veil spread over his lap. Her crucifix swung between his thighs, and her hot breath heated his balls. Clarice's lips, her tongue, her soft hands flooded his mind with excitement, and pressure built in Steve's groin until he couldn't stand it.

Clarice grunted through her nose and Steve's cock pulsed in her hands. His orgasm overwhelmed him. He arched his back and pumped his cum into her mouth--one blinding contraction after another until his empty balls ached.

Steve picked his head up from the mattress and watched Sister Clarice use her fingertips to catch a drop of cum that escaped her lips. She sucked her fingers and swallowed, and Steve dropped back. He groaned at the ceiling, and when he looked again, he found her kneeling between his knees as if she were praying.

"Asking for forgiveness?" He sat up, and Clarice crossed herself.

"Giving thanks for this chance to serve." She smiled up at the confusion on Steve's face. "We take an oath of service. Father Thomas teaches us that Christ is in all men. By serving your pleasures, I serve His.

"Seems kinda cult-y," Steve said. "I don't think our step dad knew about that when he sent Nita here."

"It's not in the brochure." Sister Clarice sat down on the bed beside Steve. "Father Thomas picks students from the school--maybe two in one year, and none some years--to become novices. He chose Nita, but Nita doesn't have the calling. That's why he won't let her leave."

Steve grabbed his jeans and jumped to his feet. "I'm getting Nita out."

Sister Clarice tore her eyes away from the big dick swinging between Steve's thighs. "The abbey's a fortress. The convent and the school are behind the walls. You've been there--you know. Mother Superior and the brothers aren't going to let you walk in and walk out with your sister."

"You make it sound like Nita's a prisoner in a harem."

"The good lord's harem. I was filled with the Holy Spirit for my first time, but your sister isn't like that."

Steve cupped his hand under Sister Clarice's chin and enjoyed the way her habit framed her pretty face. "You sure gave some holy head." She was making his cock stir again.

Clarice cast her eyes down and spoke with quiet humility. "Thank you. It's God's gift. Brother Mateo believes I have a blessed booty, too."

Steve tucked his hand under Sister Clarice's arm and turned her around. "Butt up. I'm going to find out about your blessed booty."

Clarice didn't even pause to catch a breath before she had her knees and her elbows under her on the mattress. Steve flipped her tunic over her back, and Clarice pushed her bare butt up.

Steve kept his eyes on Sister Clarice's pussy lips glistening between her legs and jacked his cock until it was rigid in his hand. He opened her with his thumb, and she twisted the cover in her grip as he pushed the smooth head of his cock into her.

Each thrust pushed Steve's dick deeper into Clarice's body, and each thrust tore away another layer of his self-control. He stopped with his thick shaft burning inside her then caught his breath and slammed into her.

Sister Clarice would have collapsed on the mattress, but Steve held her up and fucked her like a rag doll--harder and faster. She gasped into the bedclothes and the sounds she made mixed with Steve's grunts and groans.

He knew he was going to come, and nothing would stop him. He flattened Clarice onto the mattress and paused with her soft butt squeezed under him. He clenched his teeth and pumped his hot essence into her, and he bellowed at the ceiling.

Steve caught his breath and let his cock slip out of Clarice. He slapped her ass, and stepped back to watch his cum trickling out of her. "Brother Mateo was right. You OK?"

Sister Clarice was a little dazed, but she sat up and crossed herself as Steve closed his jeans. "I'll be there for the graduation tomorrow," he said, "and I'll take Nita out with me. The brothers aren't going to get in my way."

"She won't be in the graduation." Clarice smoothed her apron and straightened her veil. "Brother Thomas auctioned Nita's service to the highest bidder. It was a fundraiser won by a man named Boris Semenov. He'll be there tonight, and she's chained in a cell to wait."

Steve snorted in frustration. "Why didn't you tell me that to start with?" He pulled the curtain open and looked down at the row of gleaming Harley's still parked in front of the hotel. "Why are you telling me now?"

"Father Thomas and Mother Superior made an unholy arrangement. The other Sisters and I are together on this. We want you to stop it."

"How do I get in?"

"The boiler house is outside the wall, and there's a utility tunnel from there into the abbey. I can get you in. The brothers aren't with us, so getting you out... I don't know."

"I'll figure that out." Steve closed his big hand around Sister Clarice's arm. He locked the room behind them and guided her through the lobby. They stopped at the door as a black limousine rolled past the hotel.

"That should be Mr. Semenov." Clarice said.

The limo turned up the road toward the abbey, and Steve squared his shoulders and faced the bar. "We need chaos."

"What?" Sister Clarice watched Steve disappear into the dark bar. She ran to catch up but then stopped under the gaze of the elk's head looming over the barkeep.

Steve marched with purpose to the middle of the room, and Josie had to do a little spin around him to keep from spilling her tray. A voice from the side roared, "Cox!" Bear lifted his shot glass in a salute. "Pull up a chair."

"Bear!" Steve said. He pulled a chair back from an empty table then stepped onto it instead of sitting down. He jumped onto the table where everyone could see him, and he talked over the crowd.

"I came here today to get my kid sister out of that abbey on the hill, and I left after your little party this afternoon to meet Sister Clarice." He looked around and made sure everyone could see Clarice, standing by the bar. "She told me that the monks in the abbey are keeping my sister against her will. She's a prisoner there."

A murmur went from table to table, and a long-haired biker beside him asked, "Wha'd she do?"

"She wanted her freedom--that's all she asked. Now she's chained in a cell to be sold like an animal."

Steve paused, and the murmurs in the room got louder. "Been there," they said. "They got no right."

"Tonight, I'm going with Sister Clarice to get my sister back--monks be damned. I don't have much time, and I have a proposal for y'all. What do you do best?"

Steve didn't wait for their answer. "Y'all do CHAOS best!" A cheer rose from every table, and Steve slammed his fist into his hand. "That's what I need. When I go into that abbey, I need chaos to bring my sister out!"

A chant of "Freedom!" started, but it died when Bear stood up. He looked around the room and pointed out a tall, wiry biker. "Zeke. What d'you say?"

Zeke stared into his shot glass for a moment before he slammed it. He sat back and looked at Steve. "What's in it for us?"

Steve glanced at Sister Clarice. "Nun sex," he said, and Sister Clarice's eyes grew wide. He caught his breath so he could talk over the growing noise in the room. "There'll be willing nun tail for all!"

Zeke pounded his fist on the table. "Do it!"

Steve swung his arm to point at the clock over the door. "Give us an hour, then if Sister Clarice hasn't opened the gate, break the damn thing down!" He jumped from the table, and Clarice followed--out of the bar, out of the hotel--to Big Baby Blue.

Clarice stopped when Steve vaulted into the driver's seat. She frowned at the big car. "What are you thinking? Your boat could only take us to the front gate where all the brothers would see us. Betsy can handle the back trail to the boiler house."

"Give me your keys then," Steve said, and climbed back out of the car.

"You're shotgun." Sister Clarice crossed the road to Betsy. She gave the old jeep a kick to wake it up and climbed behind the wheel. The engine turned over and caught on the second try, and Steve was barely in his seat when Clarice popped the clutch and U-turned across the road.

Steve gripped the door to brace himself. "How much time do we have?"

Clarice scowled at Steve. "You gave me an hour to warn the Sisters and open the gate. The clock is ticking. For Nita? I'm not sure. Father Thomas was going to have dinner and collect his dirty money first."

The dark abbey towered on the hilltop ahead of them when Clarice bounced off the road onto a rough trail. She killed the headlamps and slowed down, and the moon lit the trail as they climbed through treeless, rocky crags to the back of the dormitory.

Steve jumped out of the jeep before it stopped by the little boiler house and looked up at the dormitory's flat wall and slit windows. "From here, it looks more like a prison than a school."

"Ssh," Clarice said, with her finger to her lips. "It is," she whispered, "and it's locked down for the night." She found a flash light in the glove box, clicked the driver's door shut and listened for a moment to the hum from the boiler house. She unlocked the door with a key tied to her cincture, and Steve followed her in.

Sister Clarice's flashlight made a pool of light they followed through inky darkness, down stairs and through a door into the utility tunnel where the air was warm and stale. Clarice was only a few steps into the tunnel when she recoiled against Steve's chest. "Keep your head down," she said, and dragged cobwebs off her veil.

"Why are we still whispering?" Steve asked. He steadied Clarice with his hands on her waist then took the flashlight and stepped around her.

Clarice stayed close behind Steve and hissed, "So Mother Superior isn't waiting for us when we get inside."

"I think I could handle Mother Superior," Steve said.

Something scurried across the tunnel just outside the flashlight's pool of light, and Sister Clarice shuddered. "She's never alone. Two brother's are always with her." She covered her mouth to stifle her snicker. "We call them Brother Front and Brother Back."

Steve stopped when he saw light coming from around a corner. He doused the flashlight and flattened himself against the wall. The only sounds were from the mechanical workings of the abbey's underbelly, and a conversation passing in the distance.