From the crawling hands that sinned the virginal wantons, to the ever mounting desires of the fraternity set, all went into her perverted journal of sex, and unlocked lusts she had no knowledge of. Her psychiatrist even blushed when fact after fact was bared to his file in naked passion,
Dear Diary July, 5
"We sent fireworks through each other last night. Never has a man touched me so deeply. After he took off my clothes, dear diary, there was no end to the loving he ...
------
Dear Diary, Date_______
The cover of the padlocked diary was seen by few people, even less were able to read its contents. Here is the prologue to the tale told in the entries that you will read before long-proceed then.
The nurses were bustling back and forth through the doctors outer office. Even with all the commotion that was going on there was no comparison to the scene that their patient had created a few minutes ago. They had all helped deliver a big bouncing boy and a twin sister to a Mr. & Mrs. Scott Ballard. Scott was a scrapping big guy with handsome honest features. He had been a quiet, expectant father until the word about his twins hit his inner ear. Then he tried to turn the hospital into a cabaret with his singing, carousing, and giving out of his or hers cigars, He stomped and bellowed and ran about like a mad man. Who could ever know what such an emotion, though a dairy occurrence for all humans, should trigger him into such a seemingly compulsive desire to out do all expectant dads. The nurses were up on the reason soon enough when a young intern came over to one of them, Kathy Desmond and spoke to her. Kathy if I didn't love you I couldn't tell you."
"Tell me what,' said the buxom redhead.
"Wow, the story of the flying papa out in the waiting room, that guy Scott Ballard. He got more than he wanted in more ways than one." Before he continued he asked Kathy to have lunch downstairs in the commissary. She agreed and he promised to continue revealing what he called the sordid facts. Kathy stopped off to wash up and in five minutes she was down in the lunchroom. She looked around for Dr. Bentley and spotted him at a table with about four nurses shuffling the lunch trays on it. She went over to him and she sensed the feeling of being mean because she would have preferred being alone with this hip doctor. He was the cute type. All the girls reacted like magnet bait when he was around. Kathy had the wants badly for him. She often questioned if it was love she felt. Suddenly there she was at the table.
"Ah! Kathy, hey don't forget you have ward duty on the 10 p.m. shift OK?"
"Oh! I'm glad you reminded me I forgot I worked on Betty's shift for the Ballard baby."
"Here sit here, he said as the other nurses moved their chairs in."
"I'm starved," some small voice said.
"Sex starved by now I guess," said another.
"Oh, oh!" you heard did you," said Dr. Bentley, He was young and a professional but he was a bump on a log. He was no square.
"Man isn't that a hot story. You look at Mrs. Ballard and she looks like an angel in a children's play."
"Go on, go on young doctor sin," said a giggling young lady at the end seat.
Kathy broke in, "Ethics girls, ethics first." Dr. Bentley blushed but added, "T was only going to give you some highlights Kathy, no more."
"Well I can talk all I want so let me tell you." This bundle of white sheathed bosom .and hips was Charlotte Brooks. The girls held her as a good Joe always ready to help when needed and always carrying a smile on her face. She moved forward and started her story.
"Yesterday I spent a whole morning working with the files on last years psycho cases. You know Dr. Leon is leaving and everything is being put in order. He's instructing his staff on the intimate handling of the people who are under or through with their analysis. As a special case Dr. Leon showed us one particular woman's case. It had loads of amended files and cross files related to it. The whole thing is like a bad dream. She even kept a weird diary of the whole mess. She spoke at first in the diary pages from the tail end of her life and "she unwinds the sex, libido, ego and all in every detail and I mean "tail". "
"I remember one nutty session she had where she and her husband and three other couples were leaving one of those harbor clubs at three in the morning. They were all stinking drunk and they wanted to get across the lake to another bar. The desolate lake was about ten miles from Mid Village, the effects of drink dulling all caution they were susceptible to the wildest fancies. The vista was flat, cold, the dark lake ridged by dirty white specks of glistening ripples on the surface. They got into Sid Astors cabin cruiser. The summer night aided the brilliant moon painting the night clearly, giving the passing terrain an eerie, unearthly beauty. It seemed all other life had disappeared, that the world had been left to them alone to use as their drunken excess saw fit. The boat skimmed the lake's top in a mishandled rocking, from one swerve to the other. The man named Sid Astors slurred from his seat kept pulling his wife Adele close, sliding his hands inside her coat to squeeze her breasts. 'Too bad it's so cold out there. Man, how I'd like to spread li'l Adele out on a blanket, and see what make the world go round." He nuzzled her roughly the diary said.
"Sid," Adele protested halfheartedly, "don't! You'll tear my dress! Behave yourself what will Bonnie and Barney think? Why, we barely know 'em, to begin with."
"Know 'em hell! We don't have to put on air with ol' Barney and Adele. They're our kind of people, all the way."
"That's right, Sid" Barney laughed, watching his steering with intense concentration, his reflexes and vision impaired by the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. "Hell, you can carry on anyway you want so far's we're concerned." He dug Bonnie in the ribs. "Ain't so, baby? Jus so long's we can watch," he chuckled.
Bonnie's head was spinning like a top, a fuzzy insulation her brain, rendered her immune to any shame. She felt a primal twist in her stomach. Sid Astor's remark about having to have some had awakened her own sexual desire. "Hell, no," she answered, half turning, looking back on the wrestling couple, twisting one foot under her so that her dress slid above her knees, revealed the white of her inner thigh. Take all her clothes off, Sid, if you want to." Bonnie chuckled Ooooh, she thought to herself Bonnie, honey you are really loaded. But I mean loaded. She flipped a switch on the dash and immediately the music hit the night. "There," she said thickly. "I'll even warm the summer air for you. Go ahead, Adele. Be a sport. Let him undress you. You know that's what you want too."
Adele was protesting, trying to tear her mouth from her husband's, trying to fight away his bold, questing hands. "Sidie! Stop!, you're terrible!"
"C'mon, doll. You know you'd die if I didn't go on." Want it bad as I do, don't you?"
"Be a sport," Bonnie repeated, turning again to watch feeling a hot passion when she saw Sid raise her skirt, as she saw Adele's under things, as she saw his hands stroke her legs at the thigh.
"Sid ... you're starting something we can't finish. I'll be damned if I'll go."
"Baby, baby," Sid was moaning.
"Adele," Bonnie giggled. "Let him have some. Don't be so stingy."
"You can talk," Adele laughed. "You're up there safe and sound. He can't get at you..."
Bonnie felt a surge of quickening lust in her stomach as Barney reached for her, clawed his free hand into her thigh, pressed hard. "But I can..." he choked, beginning to rub her silken legs feverishly. She clamped her thighs together, catching his fingers her own hand coming down to prevent his escape. The boat slapped the lake in a disquieting rhythm. It was adding to the purpose. Oh, she though dully that feels good.
"Don't threaten me. baby..."
"Stop, Sid," Adele was pleading raggedly in back. Toil don't know what you're doing to me. Don't baby. Wait till we get home. Then we'll make it so good ... "
"You sexy thing," Sid chuckled. "I can't wait till then. I need you right now. Here, lay back on the lifesaver.
"Sid, darling,"' she mocked. "How can I resist you?"
The torrid interplay in the back of the boat was working it's effects on everybody also. Desire compounded, and they felt immediate need for each other. Roughly Sid fought on. He tried moving his arm further up her leg. Bonnie resisted. "Barney, you can't ... not here..."
"Why'n hell not? There's blankets back there. After all. there's plenty of room..." His hands hurt her. "What's wrong? You proud or somethin'? "
The novelty of the proposal fascinated Bonnie, sent fresh tremors through her. Why not? she argued. There was no sense in being prudish. Everyone was stinking drunk, weren't they?
"You guys hear that?" Barney called. "You don't have to go home to finish up.
"Hey buddy! How y'r talkin'! Sid said eagerly, pulling away from his wife. By now the desire had riddled her defenses and she wanted desperately to conclude the passion that rampaged through her body.
The sooner the better. Sid pinched her arm lightly. "Did'ja hear that, baby? How's that for an idea? Good thinking, man!
Bonnie felt a fresh thrill as she glanced back, saw Adele lying limply across her husband's knees, her coat thrown open, her dress unbuttoned to reveal her brassiere against her shadowed Hesh. Bonnie trembled suddenly, drew her knees tightly together. She couldn't help but wish it was she in the back seat, wish it was she his hands were caressing on the way to a real crush to come.
"What'll they be doin', baby?" Adele asked. "I mean while we...? "
"We won't watch," Barney said, through his drunken stupor.
An evil flame licked Bonnie. She said, "You c'n do it while we cruise faster." The innovation of the idea, the quickness with which it had come to her startled Bonnie. She tingled all up and down her body.
"Hey," Barney laughed appreciatively. "That's The best yet. How about that? A whorehouse on the high seas." .
Sid was kissing his wife anew, his hands busily clenching her lush, quaking breasts. "How about it, honey?" he coaxed, letting his hands wander downward. "You game?"
Her reply was barely audible. "Darlin ... if it's what you want ... If you're sure ... Yes."
Hungrily Sid kissed her anew, his hands frantic on her body. Then he broke, raised her to a sitting position. Almost immediately he was trying to climb over the back of the seat, reaching to help Adele at the same time. "Here, baby, I'll give you a hand..."
He gave Adele a soft slap on the fanny as he crawled around. "Spread those blankets, Sid," said Barney. The two were busily arranging the blankets before Barney was even settled in the driver's seat. "Anchors away," he laughed, sending the boat for-, ward with a tearing spray. He put his arm around Bonnie, drew her close, leaning to kiss her. The cruiser veered crazily.
"Watch it, Barney" she shrieked.
Laughing, he straightened out, called back to the tangled, churning lovers, "Have fun, you two".
"We will, boy," Sid said. "You bet your sweet life we will one for each wave."
Bonnie had all she could do to keep her eyes to the front.
Over the sound of the motor she heard the rustling of clothing, as Sid undressed his wife. From the corner of her eye she saw them. Then there was a muffled, breathy expulsion of air from Adele's lungs, signal of her husband's entry. The motion in back became more frantic, the titterings louder, more frenzied. Bonnie sensed a wild, hot stab of passion go through her as she capitulated to her insane curiosity and looked back and saw the pulsing, bodies clutch and draw. Barney kept up his squeezing on her breasts.
But at the end Adele could not contain herself, she could not quell the swelling exultation, the outburst of gratification. "Sid," she screamed. "Baby! It's good! It's good more, more."
Again Bonnie felt the devil in her stomach, the liquid heat filled her, turned her to mush inside. At the same time she felt Barney's hand on her knee, felt his fingers move her legs apart. Helpless she permitted him to stroke her inner thigh. Looking up she saw his eyes fixed with glassy stare as the writhing figures on the deck. When Adele screamed, his fingers closed on. Bonnie's flesh with a cruel grip. "Hot dog," he breathed, "what a ball!"
For a long time there was silence in the hack seat, only the sound of heavy breathing carrying over the steady throb of the engine. Bonnie heard the couple's sighs and murmurs as they put their clothes back on.
"Boy," Barney said, "I sure hope one of you's in fit condition to steer, because I'm just about dying to get my ups." His fingers became avengers, sliding along Bonnie's legs. "You want to, don't you, baby?"
Bonnie shivered violently, closed her legs again. "Oh, Barney, darling. You know it, pull into the grotto under the over-hang.
With a slow rumble the boat came, to a stop. "Whooee!" Sid breathed as he came around the seat. "What a ride that was. Who would have ever though up a stunt like that?"
"Blame Bonnie," Barney replied. "It was her idea."
Then Bonnie and Barney were in the back, lying flat on the deck, and they got into the motion. "Darling," Bonnie breathed, her voice overloud in her intoxicated condition. "Please hurry..."
She lay limply while Barney hovered over her, weaving and lurching with the sway of the boat, clumsily undressing her. His hands languorously stroked the silken sheen of her legs, lingered, before he drew her panties down, Bonnie trembled in wild, unbearable anticipation, "Baby..." She whispered now."
"Everything all right back there?" Sid guffawed, "Sounds pretty quiet to me..."
"Sid!" Adele warned, "Shut up!"
"Everything's coming off fine," Barney laughed. "Just Fine."
Then he was naked, lying beside her, his hands doing fantastic things to her, turning her to molten fire inside. It was always this way when she was drunk. She turned pagan, she allowed excesses, she creamed her deliverance with uninhibited joy. It seemed that the physical expression of their love was always best at these times. Now her hands came to Barney, did investigation of their own, he panted like hot steel touched by water.
His lips descended to her breasts, darting at her nipples like devilish spears, transfixing her with delightful pain.. She stiffened as she felt the nipples snap, as the pain grew more maddening.
Then suddenly she froze, her voice frightened. Harney ... What's the matter?"
"It's all right," he cut her off. "Just give it a minute. It'll be all right. Don't worry, the drink just got to me.
The panic grew as she realized it wouldn't be all right, that this hysteria of desire and passion would be wasted, that their love could not be consummated. Harney," she whispered. "Are you sure? You know what happens when you drink too much ... not again?"
"I'll be all right, I tell you. Just wait. . . " he lowered himself to her anew, his mouth and tongue roving wildly over her breasts, over her body. She felt the dizzying fever-rage within her again. Even over the torment of her despair and disappointment she needed Barney. She was wild to have him. But if Barney failed, what would she do tonight? She had to have some from anyone. It had to be.
Five minutes later she knew. Barney wouldn't be able to finish what he'd started. When he drank too much It always happened that way, she went begging.
Tin sorry, baby," he muttered. "Honest I am. Maybe by the time we get home..." He pulled away. "Go ahead, get dressed, Bonnie."
"Try. Baby." she urged. "Please try."
"It's no good," he said. "You'll just have to wait.
"But you just can't leave me like this," she squawked her frustration and anger.
Then Barney chuckled coarsely. "I got'n idea, doll, i low about Sid? Should I ask him...? "
Bonnie's heart leaped, a spear of lust impaled her n it's relief "Harney ... you wouldn't mind ... J
"Hell, no. If I'm not man enough there's no sense'n spoiling your fun is there?"
"I'm sorry I feel like this, honey. I can't help myself, I have to ... I'll die if I don't . .
"Hey, Sid," Barney called. "Pull away from Adele. G'mon back here with Bonnie. See if you can take care of her." Gradually the idea became hilarious to Barney. "Hurry up, you damned stallion. Don't make Bonnie wait, she wants her sea legs strengthened."
"Are you serious?" Sid laughed. "You putting me on?"
"C'raon back and find out. Let Bonnie put you on boy." I jus' happen to be pooped. Y'hear, Sid? Park one n' shuck on back here to Bonnie. "She's hot to go."
"Oh, God," Adele giggled. "This is gonna be something. Go ahead, baby." she urged. Go on back there. Can't you see there's a lady in distress? "I'll wait."
With a sudden lurch Barney had already pulled Sid who began crawling into the back, toward Bonnie.
Jamming his feet into his shoes, grabbing the rest of his clothes, Barney gave up.
Bonnie giggled "come" warm me up, want me to catch my death?" Then she turned to Sid, pulling at him, while he removed his shorts.
"Hurry, baby," she sighed. "Don't you disappoint me too."
"Never happen, dolly," he chuckled throatily, shaking out his shorts. "Now le's see. Where did that fella of yours leave off?" He slid down beside Bonnie, brought his hands to her belly, began to stroke it in soft, arousing circles.
"Please, please..."Bonnie sighed. "Don't make me wait anymore..."
"C'mon, Bonnie," he protested. "Let me warm up to my work." His alien lips descended to attack the tips of her breasts, alien hands caressed her legs, then her stomach with inflaming touch and go.
Bonnie trembled with delight, her body tense and writhing, anticipating the love act at floodtide.
And while they swayed through the night, the drunken Barney chuckled loudly at his own discomfiture, shouting coarse encouragement to the oblivious couple in the back of the cruiser. Bonnie and Sid surrendered themselves to the wild, deranged music of their lust, savoring, beckoning withholding the erotic tempo, the drive and expulsion of their desperate needs.
Sid was toying with Bonnie, casually, perversely bringing her body to throbbing pitch. She wanted him. He had her where he wanted her. Let her wait. When he was ready. But for now there was plenty of time for play. "Is it good, baby?" he choked on her breast.
"Do it, please. Don't make me wait anymore, Sid. Your name is Sid, isn't it? Please ... Now! ! !
And through her drunker torpor the plea became louder, sending darting fires of lust through Barney and Adele. With a deliberate motion Adele took Barney's free hand, plunged it inside her dress. Her brassiere was off, his fingers encountered the crowned globes of her breasts. "Mmmmm..." she sighed, "I may not wait for Sid."
Then Bonnie shrilled her joy frantically, and Adele turned, savoring the evilness within her, the touch of this stranger's hands as she watched her husband lower himself to Bonnie's nudity as she saw her legs twine about him, as she saw the terrible, inexorable rhythm of love commence under the slopping bounce of the hull.
And as Bonnie's repeated screams continued, as she rent the close air with signal of repeated release, Barney's hands became more cruel, they dug Adele's Hesh more fervidly, until she wanted to scream herself. She flung herself against Barney, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of his upper leg, she seemed like an animal.
And still Bonnie screamed ecstatically.
Through the quiet echo of the lake Barney heard Bonnie's voice, husky, contented, almost purring. "You'd better turn around, Barney. Head for home. It's getting late."
"Aren't you' comin' up here?" he asked, feeling Adele stiffen against him, feeling her hand freeze on his leg.
"Not yet, baby," she said sleepily. "Go ahead, drive home. It's almost four thirty..."
Then he heard the soft murmurs, the one voice delicate, feminine, the other coarse and deep. The male voice finally disentangled itself, "Please, Bonnie. Not again so soon, what do you think I am anyway?"
"Try, Sid," Bonnie coaxed. "That's all I'm asking. Is that too much to ask?"
"I suppose not." he said grudgingly. "W"how! You just about wrung me out. You're one regular hellcat, you are. Don't ya' get enough?"
Bonnie's laughter was throaty, "Not so's you'd notice, lover, here let me help you, and she did.
"We're almost home" Barney muttered to Adele.
"Drive slower," Adele sighed.
Barney let up on the gas slightly, able, at the lower speed, to better attend the woman at the crook of his arm how fully exposing her breasts. Willingly Adele held the wheel while he cupped and excited the pink tipped mounds of responsive flesh.
In the back the hot commotion was recommencing. They both heard Bonnie's rasping, base pleadings for more of the same.
Barnes smiled, broke into a quivering laugh. He drove even more slowly for he didn't want to have to let Adele lost track of his manhood.
Dear Diary, Date________
It only seemed so but Bonnie was sure someone was using an air hammer on her brains as she woke up into the daylight with warm, brilliant sun jamming its sharp, piercing fingers into her eyes.
With a tiny, ragged groan Bonnie awoke in that stuffy room. She half lifted herself from the mattress.
Oh boy she then fell back in pain.
Damn, damn-she winced as the pain hammers within her brains. Please-stop. Go away. And she froze, even her breathing and her blood How through her veins felt like someone was pulling at her vitals gradually increasing pressure on each one. Don't. Please don't-she begged to no avail I can't stand it.
I'll he dead if it keeps up.
She fell into a fitful doze somehow for a few minutes more.
She could fight the nausea no longer. Her head spinning eerily, she threw herself from the bed, stumble through the cluttered cabin to the bathroom. Here she was violently sick.
Some time later she emerged shakily from the John bracing herself against the confining walls. Damn she thought. I'm dying. This time I've really done it. I'm dying young for sure.
She doggedly drove herself toward the kitchen, coffee it's the only answer. For a moment she hesitated, poised herself to make another break for the hath. The attack passed. It helped other times. It'll turn the trick today. It has to. It's the only medicine otherwise more whiskey.
A minute later she had the bottle of booze and a dirty glass from the sink, flinging herself into a sofa she poured the liquor. The ugly, wracking shakes worked their way up her being, she couldn't for a moment even drink.
But she did. With a desperate, surge she forced herself. She screwed her face and coughed from the whiskey's effect. It tasted like she imagined, awful. She ceased coughing, her body became stiff in agony as the nausea struck her again. Please, she pleaded for it to please stay down.
The whiskey stayed in her stomach. She sensed momentary relief. But she knew it was going to be tough. It was going to take awhile. She had really overdone last night. She had been a drunk to end all drunks, last night was too much. What a piece for her diary.
She looked about her, even the effort of moving her eyes sending darting pains through her. She'd slept the entire morning away it was about noon.
Then she thought of Barney. She thought of her husband. How does he do it? She pondered. Drunk practically every night of his life, sick in the morning, and yet managing to get up at the right hour, dressing, overcoming his nausea, reporting to his job on time. How does he do it? I'd die trying. He doesn't have to report until nine, she shrugged, maybe that helps a drunkard.
Dully she scanned the untidy lengths of the cabin her eyes moving from the littered living room to the tiny kitchen, out the hall leading to the bath and the bedrooms she winced at the scene. She had been such a clean person once, as neat as a whistle.
There was a large mirror over the sectional, in it she appraised the young woman who sat at the table, her face tired its flesh pale its slackness revealing the inner turmoil, physically broken and run down. Now the woman, a tall blonde-haired creature, pretty despite the ravages of last night's drinking, raised the whiskey bottle again, poured another inch. The thin lovely hands lifted the glass. Lush, ripe lips opened to expose white, even teeth, to let the whisky in. Again the face resolved its ugly grimace the potent drink cut its way down into her gut.
Why? Bonnie thought bitterly, tearing her eyes from the phantom in the mirror. I was so beautiful once, so careful, I changed, I let myself go to blazes, why?
Her eyes swept to the closed door, she saw the suit Barney had worn last night hanging in disarray upon its corner. Simultaneously she felt a hot, cruel clutching in her stomach; the nausea rampaged again. Dear Lord, she pleaded, closing her eyes to clear her thoughts, to remember. I really couldn't have done it again. I thought that after the last time-oh no-Then with a stricken, harrowing despair she realized it was so. It had happened again. The banging twisting orgy with that man-Sid-a total stranger before last night, it had occurred. She had surrendered to her depraved, drink induced lust, she had permitted anything, wildly encouraged, the bestial sprawling. She had wanted it so badly she could not stop.
She sat stunned, incredibly self loathing pressing down upon her, stirring a sickness that put an imbalance on her wracking innards. How low, how filthy, how depraved can a person get? Surely she could fall no lower. The constant drinking, the casual sex affairs, the bestial indignities she suffered at her husband's hands, the remembrance of her degraded youth-all were bad enough. But this repetition of oversexed acts she had vehemently foresworn to avoid.-
Rock bottom, Bonnie, she condemned herself with hate.
You've finally had it. There's no hope for you, its the end of the line. You've come whole hog. She ion Id remember nothing about it, save for the fact that she had so willingly debased herself. No words or emotions, no feelings. All were gone from her mind. As though her senses had left her once the act was commenced. The liquor released perverted, animal desires that were beyond belief. As though her mind automatically shut out tomorrow's pain.
She was sick with rage for her low-low filthy-lust.
If she'd even known the guy she could barely remember his face, anything about him but the sex.
As usual, she and Harney had been chinking, making the everlasting rounds of Mid Village bars. It was in that Moon lounge that they'd met. Or was it at the other place. At any rate a conversation had been struck up, they had drank, danced, laughed together. Sid had danced with her often, and vet she remembered nothing of him. Not of his dancing nor even recall his last name, or the clothes he wore.
She shook her head slightly, trying to clear her thoughts. Bitterness seared her again, why with no shred of remembrance-nothing to draw him to her, no sharing, no affection-she'd surrendered herself to him. She barely knew him, and yet she'd banged with him, tore the night with her screams. She'd let the whole hunch watch. Even her own husband. She briefly thought of Adele, the man's wife. There was an aura of inner perversity about that woman that Bonnie could not quite pin down. Even as drunk as she had been she hadn't been able to like the way that woman pawed at the men hut not as much as she ended pawing and squeezing all the women. Abruptly Bonnie turned the thought away. Win worry about Adele? She hadn't made love with Adele, she hadn't debased herself liefore her.
But she had with Sid.
For long moments she sat with the empty glass, and her stomach unsteady, her head pulsing unmercifully, she felt unclean, violated, the effect of her own making. She hadn't been forced to this life, to the primitive carnality of last night. She had pursued it with headstrong recklessness, and now she realized the foul result of it, and it was too late to turn hack now, or was it. She made her hell with no time for refunds or exchanges of the wicked, wicked favors in it.
Suddenly Bonnie felt like her body was crawling with vermin, like it was sticky and filthy. She was dirty and would never be clean again. Viciously, disregarding the pain that tore at her, she flung herself from the table, tore off her nightgown. She would be clean. She caught a wild glance at her nudity and it made her shiver up her loins.
She ran the shower for an hour, until the supply of hot water was exhausted and the cold began to pepper her white, smooth body. She scrubbed and re-scrubbed herself frantically, her skin burned from her frantic, punishing exertions, but when finally she came out of the shower she felt dirty and her skin crawled.
As early afternoon came around Bonnie had restored some slight semblance of order to the kitchen. Though she still felt rocky, the whisky had helped and she knew she would survive. Yesterday's dishes were done, the kitchen sink and table had been cleaned. And now, with grim determination she prepared coffee, and buttered toast. If she could only keep some food down she might live. While she took tiny bites of the toast, sipping the coffee as if it were lemons the staggering remorse hit her again. Try as she might, she could not batter them from her mind. Now, dressed in a blouse and slacks, hair brushed, her mouth brightened with fresh lipstick, Bonnie looked more like herself again, she was attractive despite the hangover haze in her eyes. Glancing at herself in the mirror again, Bonnie felt a quick pang in her heart. How, she thought, feeling like sobbing, had she come to this? How could the sweet-faced woman regarding her with such unyielding accusation have turned out to be the harbor slut?
Now her glance fell upon a small bookcase dividing the dining area from the living room, upon the pitifully meager accumulation of books on its shelves. Where had the promise of brilliance in the school years give to? Particularly her eyes fell on the black cover of her junior high yearbook. Absently she leaned across the table, took the thin, paperbound book from the shelf. It made her think of the reason she led the life she did now.
Here was her answer. During those formative years she had carved her future.
As Bonnie opened the book, photographs fell out upon the table. Her heart suddenly went cold. Though she hadn't looked at the pictures in over a year she knew what they were, she knew what terrible memories they would recall. And yet, much as she wanted to deny the remorse she couldn't help herself. It was almost as if she were duty-bound to look at them. Something in them was holding her.
The snapshots were of her mother and father, of their home in Mansfield. They represented a happy time in Bonnie's life, her last contact with normality. She'd been eighteen when the last one was taken, and even then the evil storm that was to transform her life was already a reality, a fermenting brew of depraved love. For it was two years latter, at twenty, that she was disgracefully expelled from college. Her immature ability to resist temptation forced her to marry Barney by the circumstance of the deviltry.
It had been then that her parents had turned their faces away from her, in bitter scene of charge and countercharge, they disowned Bonnie. As long as she lived Bonnie would never forget her mother's grief contorted face that days as all the ugly facts she had denied, had kept at bay throughout those years. She could feel sympathy for her mother, she could still sense at what terrible cost her mother had torn the denunciation from the depths of her heart, when she had turned on her daughter, rasped in venomous tone: "My God forgive me for this, Bonnie, but I hope I never see you again. I had a daughter once. She turned into a cheap, thrill-hungry tramp, a tramp! One step from a common whore!"
When her mother has dissolved to tears, running from the room with her face in her hands, her sobs hysterical, Bonnie had laughed derisively as a cover for her 'ego and it was then that her father had snapped her with all his strength, knocking her to the floor.
The sudden wash of tears blinded Bonnie now, made it impossible to see the snapshot. Her regret and inner understanding causing an aching knot to lodge in her throat. My God, if only I could have known-why did they try to understand.
Her vision cleared, and she was able to see the snapshot again. It had been taken that last September just before she'd left to go to college. In the background she saw the vast expanse of lawn, lushly verdant, fronting on the beautiful structure that had been their Mansfield home. It seemed the pain in her heart would kill her as she remembered the spacious, luxurious elegance of the house with the cramped, dingy quarters she now occupied. In her avaricious greed and self-indulgence she had lost everything and Barney gave her no better.
She stood proudly, petulantly beside her parents, dressed in a designers original, her trim, beautiful body a breathtaking vision of youth. The gown, complimented by the imported pumps gave her a haughty, regal bearing-made her look like a goddess. Gee, she thought now, was I ever that beautiful? Did I ever have such an abundance of worldly luxuries, did I ever have such a wealth of advantages-the charm and affluence to open any door?
Could this be the same woman who scant hours ago, was flat on her back in the rear of a speeding boat rutting with a stranger, driving herself to him as though her life depended upon it? The sharp sting of the bitter memory and confusion hurt.
She turned the snapshot face down to escape it. It was useless. Right beneath it was one of her taken when she was thirteen, when they had still lived in Fairby. She was standing proudly in a tailored riding outfit, silky black boots on her feet. Behind her stood her beloved filly a beautiful horse, which, along with the riding outfit, had been her birthday gift that year. "Jumps," was a fine mount.
Nostalgia gripped her as she thought of the innocence, the placid happiness of those years in Hudson. She had been so happy.
Anyway, before-
She couldn't help wondering where Jumps was now, what had happened to her.
There were snapshots of picnic at school and there were photos of her English teacher in eighth grade. Her heart fluttered. He was the first man she'd ever had a crush on. She had idolized him with a devotion that was beyond earthly reality. Here was an
Other of Mr. Benton, taken with Bonnie standing awkwardly beside him. Mandy Barton had taken that photo.
She smiled to see the dress she wore, the waist cinched with a cloth belt, the neckline chaste and tight. But still, even then, her feminine attributes were blossoming. The dress was stretched fetchingly at her chest, her hips were charmingly jutting. And the face, plainly beautiful, her hair long and silky, flowing to her shoulders.
Again the thought came: Was I ever that pretty and clean? Was I ever that innocent?
Bonnie found herself crying, for the innocence and purity of schoolgirl crushes, for the security of her schooldays, for the quiet goodness, inspiration and affection her demi-god, Mr. Benton, had showered upon her. She still treasured his words.
And Bonnie's eyes had brimmed with tears, she'd loved him with an even more tragic devotion. Now she studied the snap, wondered that she'd ever carried her heart on her sleeve like that. She longed to talk to Mr. Benton again. But as suddenly she was taken by her shame.
I wonder, Mr. Benton if you still want me for a daughter? Now, after all the foul things I've done?
Never? She knew that answer before she asked the question.
She turned his picture down, slid another up. Instantly her hand froze, her eyes narrowed in hatred as the past jammed her. It was a group picture, taken in High School. Her sophomore year, debating team. Beside her, squat, dark-her hair bleached, daring the world to taunt her obesity-her eyes viciously defiant set on Delia Bradley.
Bonnie hadn't thought of Delia in a long time. It was a purposeful oversight. For it was Delia who was the instrument of Bonnie's downfall into this pit of perverseness.
Now Bonnie lashed out at herself. Not quite, she argued. You can't blame it on Delia. Put the blame where it belongs, Delia only helped to get what I wanted anyhow.
You were there from the start of it you. were pushing with both hands on all pistons.
Dear Diary, Date_______
Delia Bradley was, all through her school years, pretty much on the outside of things. Bonnie would have been one of the first to admit that. Wild was the term generally affixed to her, some of the less finicky of the boys nudging each other, making lewd gestures whenever she passed. She came from the Barnes Street section of Midvillage, a section commonly regarded as the town's Skid Row. She dressed carelessly, her clothes flashy, bargain discount stuff. And when she performed a botched-up job of bleaching her black, rattily arranged hair, it was the living end.
Perhaps it was merely pity that first drew Bonnie to Delia Bradley. It might have been admiration for the rebel streak running through Delia. She was, despite her ineptitude in matters concerning grooming, a brilliant girl, a straight A student, seemingly having a corner on attitudes and opinions undreamed of among her infantile contemporaries but a rebel.
This blas', hard-boiled pose fascinated Bonnie, for she was bored, restless-tired of her classmates, appalled by the naivete of the goody-goody girlfriends her mother continually attempted to foist upon her. It seemed that suddenly, overnight, as she'd entered her high-school years, life had become an unendurable drag because of all those people.
She was seeking excitement, self-assertion, an independence and non-conformism peculiar to only the more shady elements of her society. Bonnie was unable to resist. Here was naked raw vital, uninhibited morals and rules, and she clutched it avidly as it was Delia Bradley who introduced her to this exciting reckless new way of life.
The respectable element among the students rationalized the strange friendship between Bonnie and Delia as symbolic of this school democracy, thinking that Bonnie was merely putting herself out to be nice to the unfortunate Delia. It wasn't overly difficult for Bonnie to keep her after-school friendship with Delia secret. For a time at any rate. Later everybody knew what was happening.
For a long time during the spring of her sophomore year there had been an unspoken attitude hovering in the background of their relationship. It was as if Delia knew something that she wasn't telling her new friend. Bonnie could feel it, but could never quite identify it. At times Delia would almost start to tell her, then would clam up. Once the word "gang" actually escaped her lips, but Delia would say no more about it, hard as Bonnie urged her.
Then one night Delia came out with it boldly, put it on the line, a strange hot line to the soul of it all.
They were at a teenage hang-out on Dey Street, a ratty place, featuring dark booths in the back. It was when a black-haired Mexican boy wearing a sweater entered, swaggered past them, shot a quick smirk at Delia, that Delia shot the question at Bonnie.
"Are you cherry, Bonnie?"
For a moment Bonnie was confused. Then she flushed, guessing at the connotation of the word, "Cherry?"
"Yeah, Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about!"
"I know," Bonnie said, rushing the words out in effort to save face, "it means virgin." She feigned toughness. "It means you never let a guy get in your pants yet."
Delia smiled, "That's right." She paused. "Well."
"Huh?"
"I asked you a question. Are you cherry?"
In a situation like this Bonnie didn't know whether to be proud or ashamed. "Yes," she said softly. "I am." She rushed the subject back to Delia. "How about you?"
"No," Delia said, her voice hard, here eyes glistening with a feral light. "Not since the holidays. Her tongue licked her lips. "It was my present." She nodded to the Mexican boy, who was now leaning over the back of a booth across from them. Dino there He did it for me. He's the leader of the gang that we are in..."
"The gang?"
"Yeah," Delia said determinedly, carefully. It was finally out. She intended it to be that way. "We have a little gang. Five guys, four gals. Dino told me to ask you..."
"Ask me?" Fear filled Bonnie. "Yeah. He thought since you knew me-you might like some action . .
"What kind of a gang is it?"
"Just a gang. We get together once in a while, raise the roof, think you'd be interested?"
Again Bonnie fought to save face. She didn't want to back down in front of Delia. "I might be," she said, trying to keep her tone hard, indifferent. "Tell me some more about it. What sort of things do you do?"
"Hell, Bonnie, do I have to draw pictures for you? I told you what Dino gave me.
"Oh," Bonnie said simply, an unknown terror growing within her. Forbidden games-Bonnie thought of it. She now licked her lips.
"That's what I thought," Delia said sarcastically. "You're scared. You're wetting your pants already. I thought you'd chicken out. . . " She half rose from the bench. "I'll tell Dino to promote someone else..."
"No," Bonnie said, strangely moved by a dark, evil curiosity. She was wild to be included in the gang. "Wait, Delia. I didn't say I wouldn't, did I?" She was still a bit uncertain.
Delia smiled triumphantly. "You mean you will?"
"Give me some time to think."
Delia rose again, "Don't go, okay." Bonnie forced a harsh smile. "Count me in on the makes."
"Swell, kid. Gosh, I know you'll like it. We have some real wild times. That Dino is a bull and all."
"Tell me about it."
"I can't, Bonnie. If I did you'd probably chicken out. I want you to come in with us so wait."
Now it was Bonnie's turn to be hard. "When did I ever chicken out on anything? I'd die first." And in the strange adolescent mind of hers she vowed that no matter what Delia revealed to her, she wouldn't chicken out. She'd be damned if she would go back. "okay", you'll find out all about it tomorrow night. We're getting together at Dino's uncles apartment out of town for the week. We'll have it all to ourselves. We'll have the initiation ... and everything."
"Initiation?"
"Yeah. New member calls for an initiation. That follows, doesn't it?"
"What kind of initiation?"
"Gad, kid, don't you like surprises at all? Wait until tomorrow. You can always chicken out at the last minute. That's part of it too. A couple of others have already chickened out, when it started.
"I told you, Delia," she snarled filling her, denying the terrible fear "This girl doesn't chicken, if you can take it, so can little old Bonnie."
Delia smiled lewdly. "Yeah, will you want to take it."
"Yes, I want to." Her lips pursed. "We'll see about that too." Delia snickered again, then began sipping her soda noisily.
Bonnie used Sandy Martin for an out. She could not openly tell her mother that she was spending that night with Delia Bradley. Mother would have yelled bloody murder. So instead she told her she was invited to stay with Sandy.
Now Bonnie recalled the quiet unassuming girl, realized what it was that had been going on with Sandy. In the light of experience she knew why it was Sandy who had been so anxious to have Bonnie visit her, to let Bonnie share her bed. She understood why Sandy loved to comb and brush Bonnie's hair for prolonged periods of time, why she liked to see Bonnie in her underwear, in her night-clothes. And later when they were in bed, why she always cuddled Bonnie, holding her stroking her back, arms, the round hills of her hips and thighs, so that was it.
And though the intimate, leech-like contact was repulsive to Bonnie, she had used the abnormal relationship to good advantage. Sandy would do everything for her. All she had to do was threaten never to visit Sandy again, never to allow Sandy to brush her hair again, and Sandy dissolved to a blubbering mess at that. All through the year Bonnie belonged to the Sinsationals she used Sandy as her alibi for overnight absences from home.
Now what had actually happened that night was all fogged in Bonnie's mind now. She couldn't remember the neighborhood the gang took her to.
There were eight of them in all, four guys and four girls. Except for Dino and Delia, none of the others were familiar. Of the two strange girls one was a blonde, the other a redhead. They were both attractive, most were about seventeen to nineteen. Their clothes of the same flashy cheapness as Delia's.
Bonnie was competition and the girls didn't take to her at all. The boys were nondescript also, one other Mexican, the other two white, a blonde and a awful looking brunette, both about twenty. Dino was the handsomest, his arrogant smile continually rearranged itself on his smooth face. Immediately Bonnie felt herself drawn to him for his muscular build showed through his clothes.
There had been wine and beer to drink. Bonnie had tried both, finally settling on wine. Drinking nauseated her, and because it was Bonnie's first encounter with liquor, she became quickly intoxicated. By ten o'clock she was on what she was doing. She was drunk, so were the others, really staggered.
A hi-fi played modulated rock-and-roll. Everybody had removed their shoes, all danced with purposeful arousing intent. Bonnie remembered the boys pressing her close, pushing themselves against her, kissing, feeling her. She remembered die strange flame that streaked along her loins as Dino kissed her, probing her mouth with his tongue, his hand freely running along her back, down to the swell of her buttocks, he inflamed the willing virgin.
"Gad, I'm gonna' enjoy you, baby," he muttered as they moved on.
The fear had returned, for a second. As time passed, Bonnie drank more and more she found it hard to stand, she found herself giggling, talking foolishly. Also she found the boys becoming more and more familiar with her, their hands insistent, inquisitive. The more she drank, the less she cared about the unknown, initiation. It seemed there was a mysterious, eagerness within her, a desire to be evil, to debauch herself. Whatever was going to happen, she wanted it, she wanted to go all the way. Consequences be damned, her stomach ached for a release.
Now she let her tongue answer Dino's when he kissed her, she returned the slow thrust of his body as he ground it against hers, the dancing got wilder.
Then finally, after what seemed hours of drinking and dancing, of erotic clutch and caress, she suddenly found her partner, the blonde named Bob, drawing away from her, turning toward the phonograph. Everyone was suddenly silent. Dino stood there, smiling confidently, his eyes smoky with desire. "I think it's about time gang set her up."
There was an excited murmur.
Time for what? Bonnie's clouded mind called.
"Bonnie," she heard a voice from a distant place call. "Come over here, let your initiation committee work."
Then the girls were pushing her toward the center of the room. Bonnie stood there alone, weaving unsteadily, a glassy smile screwed onto her face. The others stood about her in an informal, leering circle
"You want to join?" Dino asked. "You like our little shindig, do you go for us?"
"Oh yes," Bonnie breathed, "i want to join."
"You want to go through with the initiation?"
"Yes," Now her tone was less certain.
"You sure you want it?"
"Yes, I'm sure, I'm no chicken."
"You won't chicken out." His condescending smile burned through the alcoholic haze, infuriated Bonnie.
"No!" she said belligerently. "I won't chicken out!"
"You heard her, gang." His eyes slowly passed around the expectant Sinsationals.
"Yeah, we heard her," the redhead, a girl named Audrey laughed. "Let's see if she's got guts enough to go through with it."
"Okay, Bonnie," Dino said, his smile softening, his eyes burning. "If you're ready. I am."
"I am." She threw her shoulders back insolently her breasts jutted out. "Go ahead, girls. Fix her up for a good one."
Immediately she felt the girls hurry her from the room. Then she was in a dark place, a bedroom most-likely, her eyes blinking. "Don't chicken," she heard Delia whisper into her ear. "Whatever you do, Don't chicken out." Seconds later a light came on. Eagerly, their hands impatient, the trio of girls came at her, began undressing her.
"What ... " Bonnie asked in dazed befuddlement.
"You're gonna' get initiated," the blonde named Peg hissed. "Ya' can't be initiated with your clothes on..." Pegs hands put in some penetrating probes.
Her dress was roughly unzipped, lifted over her head. Her slip followed. Immediately Audrey took a comb, rearranged her hair. "Ya' gotta' look pretty for Dino," she breathed as she stared at the ripe Bonnie.
"Gad," Peg murmured admiringly. "Get a load of the classy underwear the kid wears..."
"I told you she had loot," Delia bragged.
Then Bonnie felt fingers plucking at the snaps of her brassiere. A cold current swept over her breasts, and she felt the nipples harden, become wrinkled. Someone was peeling her stockings off. Then her panties were ripped away, oh what expectations consumed them all.
"Damn," Audrey muttered, "I wish I was getting initiated again ... That Dino is some stud.
It was becoming harder and harder for Bonnie to concentrate. She was getting so sleepy. She felt so delightfully happy. Then she felt the girls lowering her onto the bed. A cold splash on her chest awoke her momentarily: They were rubbing perfume over her breasts, and Peg was drooling..
"She's got a cute little figure," she heard someone say.
Suddenly a slight pain brought her from her daze. Someone was lowering her legs. She opened her eyes to see Delia putting a plastic instrument on the bedside table.
"What's that?" she started.
'That's so you don't get a baby," Delia giggled. "The guys don't like it any other way...
They were raising her to her feet. "Ready?" Delia breathed. "Remember what I said, "Don't chicken."
"I remember."
Again the light in the bedroom went out, Bonnie felt herself being pushed back toward the living room. A shudder swept her nude body as a draft hit her.
There was barely any light in the living room now. Only a dim lamp shone above the TV set. Then Bonnie started as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom. She saw the strange arrangement on the living room floor, as she saw Dino walk over from the shadows.
There were blankets spread on the floor, several pillows. The white sheets were stark against the blackness. Then Dino drew closer and Bonnie recoiled as she saw that his dusky body was totally nude. Then she sensed shame and feat. It was the first time she'd ever seen a naked male. She wanted to turn away. A greater power compelled her to stare, to let her feverish gaze rove his beautiful, tawny body-to assess his maleness. A primal twist clutched her ' stomach from the appraisal of Dino's manhood.
"Lay down," he said, a cruel, demonic twist to his lips. She quailed, felt weak all over.
The girls moved to help her. Bonnie found herself on her back, her body rigid with fear. She felt someone put some pillows under her head, prop her up. No-she thought, revulsion stunning her. He wasn't going to-Not with everyone in the room-watching like a circus-oh no.
She stared up to where Dino loomed over her, his body dark, silhouetted against the dim light. He seemed stories tall.
She didn't answer, when he said "now?"
"Say it! he snapped. "I ain't gonna' rape you. You gotta' be willing."
"I'm ready now."
Someone had increase the phonograph's volume she noted, never taking her eyes off Dino as he dropped down beside her, looked at her body unashamedly, his face twisted with desire at every inch.
Gently his hands stroked her breasts, her belly. Now his fingers caught her nipples, twisted them amusingly. She felt a wanton surge within her. "You sure?" he whispered once more.
"Yes, I'm sure..."
There was no other sound in the room, save for that of their voices, all other action ceased. And the muted rock-and-roll music. The other gang members watched intently, vicariously assuming position with Bonnie and Dino, aroused to a terrible pitch, petrified into unmoving, barely breathing concentration they were boiling hot.
Still despite her resolve, the fear continued to expand in her brain, to stun her, the thought of his breaking her innocence.
Now Dino was moving toward her, smiling in cocky self-assurance. For a moment he paused, hovered over her. He slid his knee between hers. Involuntarily Bonnie felt her body stiffen, her legs close to reject him. "No..." she whimpered, the tear overcoming her at last.
Dino smiled sarcastically. "Make up your mind," he snarled, I bet Audrey can take over," Audrey sighed.
Bonnie twisted her head in confusion. "I don't know. I just don't know." She breathed deeply, a spasm of desire shaking her. "Yes ... I want it.
In the silence there was only the loud rasping of their mingled breaths, the rustle of their bodies as they came together. Bonnie screamed thinly, fighting to control herself. It felt like she was on fire, the pain, maddening, making her want to scream her outrage to the ceiling. She shrieked, her voice hoarse. "No, no ... please stop! It hurts. You'll kill me! You'll break me apart!
Then there was a sudden explosion in her mind and she realized that Dino had slapped her solidly across the face, he cursed in his fathers language.
The pain became blinding, drumming the blood into a scalding rush. She wanted to inflict similar agony upon her tormentor and viciously she strained her neck, clenched her teeth in the hard flesh of his shoulder, bore down vengefully. Again the explosion came to her, again she heard the guttural, "stop you ass, you screw," and he slammed on.
She fell back terrified, still the brutes weight pressed suffocatingly up on her, trapping her pinning her in human sacrifice. Then suddenly an eerie warmth came over her, possessing her from head to toe. The pain faded, did not seem so harshly cruel. There was a mysterious beauty to the hurt, an awful fear that it would fade too soon, she wanted it.
"Oh!" she gasped, and flung her arms around Dino's waist, held him against her with compulsive fury. He mustn't leave her now. He couldn't leave her now. Again she was screaming only this time with delirious abandon over the scalding release that consumed her loins.
It wasn't ugly, it wasn't sadistic, just beautiful, the most beautiful thing in the world and she could never get enough of it.
"Oh, oh, oh..." she groaned, clinging desperately to him, driving her body to his.
About her she heard the soft murmurs of the others. Dino drove himself to her again, seeking immediate duplication of his transfiguring releases that he saw banging his women.
Now they were quiet on the floor, Dino's body still covering her, the floodtide of emotion gradually slipping away from them both.
'Gosh,' she heard one of the boys exclaim. "She was a virgin. Look at that damn sheet, it's not white any more."
Now Dino was gone, and dully, unfeelingly Bonnie found herself being helped to her feet by the girls.
"You bastards!" she heard Dino cursing. "She's too good for any of you, she's mine, do you hear all mine."
"Screw you, Dino," the other dark-skinned boy retorted. "Rules are rules. The first time around she's community property. It's our turn now."
Then Bonnie was tossing fitfully in the darkened bedroom. Now it was dark, and she was alone, only for a moment. Seconds later the door opened and someone entered. Now feverish hands were stroking her body anew. "Baby," she heard the accented voice whisper. It was the other boy. Then she felt his weight upon her. The burning fire erupted anew within her. Dully, the thought cleaving the thick cotton of her brain, she realized that her initiation had only just begun and it was a smash.
All through that endless night the others came and went pounced against her in beautiful ravishment.
She could only remember Dino. How good it had been with him the feelings of a lifetime.
Dear Diary, Date_______
CHAPTER FOUR
Bonnie suddenly recoiled from her day dreams. What a degrading period she had gone through and she now wanted it to be over.
How cheap and tawdry it all seemed now. Bonnie reminisced as she tried to down a bite of toast. She sipped the black coffee. She mused bitterly, how desperately she had valued her membership in the gang, what risks she had taken, what jeopardy she had placed herself in to retain her status in the lawless little group. It had meant life itself to her at that time.
In the year that followed none of the other boys had ever touched Bonnie again. She became Dino's girl; no one dared challenge his right to her, only Audrey who had been Dino's gal.
Their relationship, Bonnie now realized, was ugly, bestial, nothing more than a lust for kicks. They were greedy for each other's body, for the wild surge of deliverance they could readily get from each other. That bound them. Bonnie, young, indecisive, utterly impressionable, was held in check by Dino's virility. by his position as boss of the Sinsationals, while Dino, on the other hand, was sent by Bonnie's supposed 'class and elegance. She was of another world to him, he would do his utmost to keep her his woman.
Beyond that there was the stunning proficiency which Dino brought to the love act, the excruciating delight he could transfix Bonnie with, the prolongation of climax that would nearly drive her out of her mind, leave her gasping with delight. Simply put, Dino taught her how to enjoy physical love, he created within her an addiction to the ecstatic thrills. She was greedy for the act herself; it was its own vital end. Morality and deeper human feeling never entered into her mind.
They wanted each other, on a bed, naked. There was no other way of expressing it.
It seemed she moved through that year in a trance. The carnal as manifested.
In time, driven by counterfeit emotions driven to the absorptions of the very young, they had come to label their uninhibited barn yard morals "their" love. It was a word neither of them understood. The only love either of them knew was one of selfish physical appetites and sensations.
As such is was love and they vowed their undying devotion. Strange, Bonnie thought, forcing down more coffee, that I couldn't see how false it all was, what a shame my life was.
Now she smiled thinly what love! Two weeks after Dino was sent up I'd forgotten him completely. I was shacking up with Joe already.
During that year before Bonnie was forcibly removed from the vicious,, thrill hungry circle, there were two more initiations. Even here, with Dino duty-bound to deflorate each new virgin, exercising his feeble burlesque, Bonnie never doubted fcr a second the security of her position in his affections. They were made for each other, they were perfect in bed together, weren't they?
The Sinsationals came together often in an effort to sate their eternal lust for sensation, for violence, for thrills. Bonnie recalled breakneck drag races along dark highways, provoked gang fights in the streets, all night parties with sexual excess and partner swapping. There were frequent "strip nights" when the girls aroused their partners to fever pitch. Afterwards they made love in masse. She shuddered to relive those times. She recalled the seething, swell of passions as deliverance approached for individuals, to hear the pain of guttural outcries, female screams, an intricate and depraved symphony of rapture, its counterpoint awry, its syncopation and resolution raggedly ill timed, when two by two they all got their drives sated.
She recalled daring robberies of drug stores, filling stations committed only to dispel boredom, to prove they could be successfully executed, to gain new sensation of bravado, the money and merchandise gained thereby squandered. In this mad pointless gang.
There were other things not so pleasant to remember. The needless fights between Sinsationals members and innocents who just happened to be in their way. The night Dill cut an unknown stranger to ribbons with a chain. The night tour of the boys came upon a parked automobile unawares in Midvillage's "lovers lane, each of them raping the helpless girl in turn, forcing the battered boyfriend to watch the perverted violation as they all took seconds.
A headstrong restlessness which filled the breast of each gang member. Thrills and more thrills-No matter what the cost, no matter who got hurt their aimless lust for a kick.
And when her guilty conscience nagged her unmercifully, Bonnie was able to lose herself, in compulsive, orgiastic sexual waves with Dino. If they went to bed often enough, if they drove themselves to each other desperately enough, their cries of fulfillment, their avowals ol boundless love could drown out all things.
And where were Bonnie's parents while this was going on? Why didn't they become suspicious of this change in Bonnie's attitude, of the glittering venal fire that now possessed her?
They had not become suspicious because Bonnie was wise when it came to gratifying her selfish needs, did not let them. It was as if there were actually two Bonnie's one circumspect, respectable a model daughter who brought home superior school grades, who charmed and delighted everybody, influential enough to upset her apple cart, and the other Bonnie a vicious wanton, interested only in indulging her baser appetites for a hot male loin.
True, rumors did abound throughout town concerning Bonnie. But they were uttered in whispers. Too incredible to be believed, people said. One might as well have accused Joan of Arc of being a procuress, and a needle pusher. It was beyond credulity. Not Bonnie. Not that sweet-faced innocent. A person put his own reputation in jeopardy to fight for her rights.
She managed to scrape her way through that long year, judicious in her hours, the spacing of her all night visits with Sandy, in the state of her makeup, her breath, her personal daintiness, her hygienic precautions, all twelve months she played her game perfectly, managing to completely bamboozle everyone, deceiving them all.
Her schizophrenic existence was devastatingly being put to an end before long.
Bonnie had vague recollection of a fateful night. She remembered the darkened package store the boys loading countless packs of beer into their car, the girls gathering cigarettes, candy with breathless haste. Then suddenly the bright lights the wail of sirens, the police who burst in from all sides and afterward the tearful phone call from the police station to her dad, she was in trouble. Would he come right away to the lockup?
Daddy did and because Daddy was one of the towns biggest politician he was also able to bribe, to pressure. Bonnie's part in the juvenile crime was completely white-washed, and when the boys were sent off to the state reformatory as were the girls, Bonnie was not with them. She had emerged from the scene smelling like a rose in a garden of roses.
It was the worst possible thing that could have happened to her, she conceded now. She should have been made to pay for her headstrong wanton and desires. Bonnie finished out the semester with a tutor.
She was never to see them again, for by the time summer vacation came around, her father had sold out, had moved. Perhaps if they put enough distance between themselves and Bonnie's sordid past, if he kept her under strict surveillance-some chance the wild streak would negate itself from within giving her some principles.
He was only deluding himself. After all, he could not follow Bonnie everywhere, he could not know of the skipped classes of the noon hour jaunts into the country with various stallions, of the fever that raged within Bonnie.
For her exposure to the virulent contagion of sex, she could not be quelled, abandoned promiscuity wasn't to be quelled. The addiction to the glories of physical love was rampant within her, too far advanced to be checked by makeshift parental antibiotics or overseeing.
Before her second month in the new town was-out, Bonnie had gone through three different lovers, and tiring of them, had gone on to others. She was known to all the boys as one hot piece. "The gal's buggy about it," was the password she was a nymph and needed more.
In his failure, Mr. Belford hoped that maturity would instill within his daughter certain valuable virtues and standards. He arranged for Bonnie to attend college. He chose an elite institution in the east, well known for its principles. And if the school authorities failed to curb his daughter's passion, he had at least gained one important advantage since Bonnie would be committing her indiscretions at a distance from home.
It would have to be an odious scandal indeed to have its scent carry all the way back to his neighbors.
Bonnie hunched herself over the formica-topped table in the cabin rubbed her hands into her eyes, remembering the dreadful fiasco her years at college had turned out to be. Despair, fresh self-loathing came down her body, and she recalled in disgust.
It had been a scandal all right, offal stink all pervasive the college was never the same after the shattering bombshell exploded on its peaceful campus. The smell did drift as far as Bonnie's home and beyond.
It wasn't as though she hadn't tried, she wailed, again on the verge of tears. She had taken stock of sorts before she left horn. It took no mind reader to show her where she was headed if she didn't take herself in firm hand.
She was not at a woman's school. It was coeducational, the balance tending to 60-40, with males in preponderant supply. Perhaps in this her father's choice was again judicious, his strategy being that she would find a husband, hoping for a strong man who could help firm her wayward life. If this did not come to pass, then his daughter would be sleeping with a better class male, she wouldn't be dragging them off the street, as might be the case if he consigned her to convent-type institution.
During the first few months at college Bonnie's resolve held. She was able to abstain from shacking up. She was friendly, courteous to everyone. In this she managed to charm her roommates, her casual class friends. Most important she charmed the faculty, male and female alike, right off its feet. By maintaining top grades by burying herself in an extracurricular activities she was able to sublimate the sex drive that burned with steady, intense heat within her. Before the first month was out she had established herself as an outstanding student.
It was the school's annual dance for Halloween and its aftermath that was responsible for her. lapse. She and Sherman Vestry double dated with Alice Shawn and Al Bond that night. After the dance they bluffed their way into a bar, the ball gowns making the girls look older than they were. Under the influence of a pair of martinis the girls allowed themselves to be lured out into the country. "Hell" Sherman had laughed with easy familiarity "what's a ball without taking in the moon?" The girls had giggled, eagerly agreed to get out under it.
Bonnie had known the minute she let Sherman kiss her with moist, open mouthed passion when she had let his hand remain on her breast, what the evenings outcome would be. She shuddered feeling the crawling hunger swell within her. It seemed there was a caged, snarl within her that must be released. It had been such a long time. She needed a man so badly to quell the snarling beast inside.
They were in the back seat, and Sherman surprised that she succumbed so incredibly easy, had pushed her down, feverishly exploring her body with his hands, his tongue all the time darting erotically at Bonnie's. There were no words, no protests. Only the heady, inexorable will that it should happen, their tongues licked up the fire. Alice a naive child, a virgin had looked back seen the action had seen Sherman slowly slide Bonnie's skirt above her knees, watched his hand disappear into the valley. And her own desire had been fatally aroused. She hadn't intended that the ride develop into anything more than minor petting, but now, inflamed as she was, her good intentions went up in a puff of smoke, me too she thought.
It was a freak night, the weather warm having slipped back for a last quick look see, and as Al had emulated his fraternity brother she was all too anxious to cooperate. "Outside," she murmured. "Take me outside." They disappeared into the calm moon haunted night across a green lawn.
Bonnie remembered the terrible fever that possessed her that night as she tolerated Sherman clumsy hands on her. It seemed he would never gel her undressed. Hurry, hurry an inner voice called as he pulled down her panties. God, please hurry. I'm ready.
Bonnie recalled after that it had been all downhill again.
There were six different men before Barney. Sometimes as many as five events in a week. There was no personal respect, no polite conversation. They were there to make love and they went at it. To be able to squeeze in an encore. The sex events took place mostly in automobiles. Several times she insisted that the stud of the evening take her to a motel. Those times the affairs were glorious, prolonged, ceaseless. It was a medicine she seemingly needed to keep sane. A cure-all tonic, all she could squeeze in before campus curfew.
Take three times daily, twice before retiring.
This splatter of dripping sex changed when she met Barney .
They had driven ninety-five miles away, presumably to see the last football game on their schedule. But they never got to the game. Instead inspired by an over supply of cocktails at luncheon, they repaired to a nearby hotel, where they spent the afternoon playing a game a thousand times more exciting than football. As dusk came on they sent down for dinner, more drinks.
Afterward they tried for the extra point, of their love game. Bonnie was exhausted, glowingly sated when Barney dropped her off before her dormitory at eleven that night. Her legs aching her body still throbbing from the delirious, stunning passion they had shared that day, she decided then and there that she wanted more of this Barney. He was all man. She hadn't been so exquisitely ravished in months. Not since-When?
Was it true? Not since Dino. God, could any man be that good again.
She firmly intended to find out.
Barney was a brute of a man standing six feet four inches weighing 230. He was 25 and in a masculine way he was handsome, his hair and crew cut. He was intelligent to a point, his mouth and eyes sensitive. Yet there was a harsh, straight-forward aggressiveness about him that Bonnie found irresistible. He knew what he wanted, how to go about getting it. And in the process he knew how to release to his female partners fires of love.
In his crude, fashion Barney awoke a response in Bonnie, brought to life the one yearning within her she'd never felt before. She now realized that what she and Dino had shared had no kinship with love. But this with Barney, the way his hands maddeningly brought her to unspeakable frenzy and desire, breathless, screaming then whimpering softly, piteously that her climax was so soon reached, could not be immediately repeated-this was something different an experience difficult to match.
She longed to be with him always, to get comfort in his nearness, to feel secure in his embrace which was warm in their normality. She slept with him not just because of sexual appetite but because of his calm effect upon each other. In all her affairs she had never gotten this feeling of completeness. Could it be that she was falling in love? Would she finally have peace?
Barney, as it turned out, was the possessor of an off-campus address, blocks from the college. In this apartment at all hours of the day and early evening that Bonnie verified here suspicions, came to the heart-stilling conclusion that it was so. She had it, love.
Convinced that she was in love with Barney she amazed herself. More unsettling was that she wanted him to be the only man from now on and she be the only woman.
She wanted to marry barney.
As they neared the end of a cataclysmic sex event, she writhed at his jerking, thrusting body, as she felt the crucible in her stomach turn to molten, white-hot silver, she spoke through the ragged expulsion of her breath, was confident and matter-of-fact. For Bonnie had never been refused anything. Never in her life. "Barney" she blunted.
"Huh?"
"Don't stop, silly. There ... I'd like to become your wife, does that strike you? "You and me legally."
"You little bitch," he groaned. "Of all times..." and his face grew into an ecstatic mask, the expression before deliverance. "God" Of course I'll marry you.
I love you too, Bonnie! Honest, I do" and he groaned, clung to Bonnie in significant death like embrace. She writhed and creamed. Then she too clung desperately to her lover, her nails raking in the flesh of his hack.
It was decided, by preordained never on Bonnie's part and there have been worse proposals of marriage.
Very soon, as they lived their engagement, Bonnie discovered that her idol had feet of clay. Though he was a glib, interesting conversationalist, she soon found that talking was as far as things went with Barney. School work was incredibly easy for Bonnie, it was agony for him. He was more content in researching new attitudes, new positions of mutual sexual satisfaction between himself and Bonnie. He was not aggressive nor was he used to achievement or work.
She could not tutor him through the academic and though he was barely scraping by-incredible as it might seem-he would achieve his degree that spring. Not with honors to be sure but a degree just the same he was an exasperation to her. Luckily he was to get his feeble degree before the storm hit them.
There was one stumbling block in the form of Professor Castle. In his course Barney was failing for sure, with no possible chance to recover. The course would have to be repeated, the conferral of his degree delayed, this couldn't be Bonnie felt.
Such a delay would necessarily postpone the marriage. They had planned a June wedding. This setback would ruin everything. It was at this point that Bonnie had taken the reins and had attempted to bribe Professor Castle in a most practical irresistible way. She proceeded to put her plan into action.
"Come in", the cultured voice called.
Nervously Bonnie had opened the door, let herself in to Professor Castle's book lined office. The man who looked up at her was dark-haired and dark eyed, a gentle man of perhaps 50 or so.
"Yes?" he asked as she came in closed the door behind her, carefully, and slowly turned, giving him an angle on her figure, clinging, revealing she wore it like a coat of point. "You don't know me, Professor," and who I am is unimportant, I've come to plead for someone else".
"Plead? For whom, may I ask? In what way?" he quizzically leaned forward.
"This concerns one of our students a Mr. Barney Selden".
"Selden?" he scolded. "Yes, I know him especially, I'm afraid he's a lost boy".
"You realize that he's a candidate for a degree that if he fails your course his degree won't go through ... You would just let him fail.
"Yes, miss. I'm sure I do. It's unfortunate, but that's it"
"If you were to give him a passing grade, it would make all the difference in the world..."
"But why should I do such a thing? After all, I have certain standards to uphold in..." He stopped, his face suddenly blanching, drawing into a mask of disbelief. "See here, Miss ... What are you doing? Stop that, don't."
While he talked Bonnie began to undo the buttons that ran the length of her dress. She looked boldly at the professor, "If you could see your way to give Mr. Selden a passing grade ... I can-She revealed the pink lace of her slip. "I'd be willing to reward you in a most tangible manner." Now she drew the dress from her chest.
"Please ... miss..." he gurgled, completed baffled.
"Call me Bonnie" Purposely she made her voice sultry and she brushed her firm filled brassiere of his cheek.
"Bonnie, please stop! You don't know what you're doing".
"Don't I? Be truthful, Professor Castle wouldn't this ... I ... be worth it? After all it's only a mark on a piece of paper." She advanced, pulling her straps down, revealing a nipple. "This," she murmured, touching her breasts against his arm "is real..." Seeing the lustful light suddenly fix itself in his gaping gaze, she knew he was hooked. "Go ahead, touch them. See if they're real ... they're yours."
"No. ... this can't be happening. It isn't true Woodenly, mesmerized by the beauty of her youthful, creamy flesh, by the voluptuous swell of her breasts, he lifted a hand, ran it across her left breast, he gulped hard.
"Go ahead," she murmured. "You can play with them." She turned, offered him her back. "Take off everything if you like. And afterward ... Anything you want. All you have to do is change a little grade for me".
"God," he choked, "this isn't possible. You mean you're offering ... an exchange"
"That's right. All you have to do is say yes. Here and now ... we can seal our bargain, I'm game.
Tear filled his eyes, "Oh, Lord, no we ... No, not here ... Bonnie my reputation please!"
"Where then?"
"My house, would be so much safer, my wife will be away tomorrow afternoon. A faculty wives function at an art gallery". He stared at her nudity.
Bonnie took his hand, pressed it against her breasts. "You sure"?
"Yes," he choked. "Oh, this is insane. Yes, I'm sure".
She had a hard time getting his hands off her. "Write down the address for me".
The man fell back into his chair. Hastily he scribbled on a pad. Then he handed her the slip. "Come after three". A foolish, smile twisted him. He was wild to have her at any price. "You won't disappoint me Bonnie, we have a want for each other."
"I couldn't," she smirked. "You've got something I want and we both appreciate the fact."
"And..." he panted. "Carry some books so that no one will be suspicious. I tutor now and then..."
The next afternoon at exactly three o'clock Bonnie made her appearance. He hastily ushered her into a spacious living room. Instantly the man was on her, his breath on her. She smelled the odor of whiskey on him. Been drinking courage she thought. "Miss ... Bonnie..."
"Oh, I'm not so sure of that" she cracked.
She allowed the fat faced man to kiss her, their mouths setting a match to the kindling of desire. Now his hands were racing down her back, fumbling with her buttocks. "You're so young, so beautifully..." he breathed. Then his fingers worked at her dress.
She moved away. "Here, sit down there and watch. Enjoy yourself".
It reminded her of "Strip night" when she'd been with the "Sinsationals" a lust bent expression on the professor's face was an exact duplicate of those gala nights. The terrible longing came out in his excited tongue licking mouth.
She made it last a long time, enjoying the effect her display was having on the small, fat man. She took special pains with her stockings and high heeled pumps. She was pirouetting slowly so he could see into all angles. A perverse, evil twist started in her stomach, she started to steam. Bang, suddenly she wanted this dumpy creature. She wanted him to touch her, to take her. His efforts were-likely to be ridiculous and clumsy. Yet she wanted him. Now she kicked away the stockings and shoes, stood before him totally nude. In tantalizing pose she cupped her breasts with her hands, moved them in slow circles, offering them to him.
"God", he muttered thickly. "You're so beautiful. I can't wait. To have a young woman again ... I want you so badly."
"Barney. . . Mr. Selden ... you'll give him a good grade?"
"I'll give him an A, For you Id' give him straight A's".
"That's what I like to hear baby fat," she said and pinched his stomach. Then Professor Castle was undressing hastily. He stood before her trembling, entirely naked. "Come on" he urged. "Well go upstairs, there's a soft bed in the..."
Bonnie's eyes went over his body. That little fat belly, she thought. It would feel funny against her loins ... Suddenly a terrible surge of lust went through her. She wanted him, now not upstairs ... too long ... right now.
She flung herself onto the sofa rolled onto her back. "No," she seethed, there isn't time. Right here, jump me honey, ride me now, now".
With trembling, uncertain movements he weaved his way to her. He fell beside her. His hands closed on her breasts, hurting them in his desperate need he moaned.
"Hurry", she urged, pulling him onto her body.
He shuddered, settled down to the erotic work at hand, he knew how to be all over her at once.
So attending to their pursuit of the internal ecstasy, they didn't hear the front door swing open on their rise and falling bodies. They both looked up in stunned shock to see his heavy wife standing over them, behind her stood other women in similar shock, in open mouthed disbelief.
"Please, Margaret listen first" the good professor tried to lecture as he dropped Bonnie on her rump in the melee.
As Bonnie and Barney entered the president's office the next afternoon they had seen the Professor and his wife already awaiting them. Professor Castle features were dead. Mrs. Castle sent a vindictive glare at Bonnie.
"Suppose you tell me what this is all about, Mrs. Castle" the grim-faced prexy had asked and before the glass paneled office door swung open again that afternoon, three college careers had been smashed with such a scandalous furor that it rocked the foundations of higher learning. After all what kind of education were they performing...?
Dear Diary, Date_______
Often, during the first year of their marriage Barney had talked of the time when they would save enough money so that he could finalize his degree. It would require another full semester at least for in transferring his credits from one college to the other, some were bound to be disallowed by whatever college he matriculated from. Just the task of fulfilling the requirements loomed before him. It was an eternal dream, taunting, goading him. If he could get his degree-stability, advancement, eventual security and normality would be theirs for sure.
As the months passed and Barney became more and more embittered he spoke less often of his dreams. With that first year behind them he stopped mentioning them at all. Instead he concentrated on his drinking. Alcohol was soothing, it helped him forget. In those moments there was a future in that fog.
Certainly it was futile to expect any aid from Bonnie's parents. Somehow the small-time campus scandal had hit the back pages of some national newspapers. This unwanted notoriety, coupled with the arrival of a very personal letter to Mr. and Mrs. Belford from the college president in which he detailed the charges against Bonnie, this was the crowning disgrace. After that final ugly scene, Bonnie was never to hear from them again. Her letters, Christmas and birthday cards to them were all returned unopened, they had reasons but she was of their flesh and blood. It seemed to Bonnie that she had never had parents at all. That part of her life had never really happened. It seemed she had always been disinherited, her aimless empty life with Barney a constant torment in unhappiness. Thus the terrible impact of the snapshots. It was incredible that she could have been a little girl, safe in the warmth and love of a family circle. Had it really been? Had she ever been really happy anytime along the way of life?
In due course Bonnie had discovered that what existed between she and her husband was not a love. It became evident that what they had mistaken for love was physical sensation, devoid of human dignity and sympathy. As their marriage went on it seemed that even this last contact turned for the worse. What Bonnie had taken as masterful male aggressiveness and assertion turned into nothing but petty meanness and brutality. It was Barney's nature to nurture his childish ego by forcing his wife to submit to him in travesties of the love drive.
The first year was over and Bonnie hated Barney. He had turned out to be none of the things her spoiled, daydreams promised. He had held five different jobs. Constantly at odds with his employers, shiftless, not applicated he never seemed to last long in one place. And with each new reversal, his confidence sagged that much more, he drank the heavier, he abused Bonnie more than each last abuse.
Now Bonnie struggled to recall the different jobs Barney had held, to remember the different places all over the United States they'd lived. Seemingly they'd been on the move ever since their marriage more times than hot they merely skipped town to avoid the staggering pile of unpaid bills facing them. They could not grasp life.
Vaguely she recalled the house in Illinois. It was there they'd gone immediately following the college fiasco. Their marriage had seemed to have a chance then with security her marriage had provided. In the bustling city it seemed nothing could go wrong with their marriage. She was in love with Barney, he loved her. What could go wrong under such circumstances.
But Barney had become unsatisfied. His job as manager for a ski and sports company did not pay enough. Chicago-that's where the money was to be made so they moved again.
She had regretted giving up the neat, white, clap-boarded house. They took a fairly modern, yet grimy, neglected apartment. Try as she might she could not even feel that it was quite clean. More disturbing, she could not reconcile herself to the realization that she had taken her first step downward. From there on things would get worse instead of better for the Seldens household.
She was correct. Barney lasted only months as a door to door salesman. And suddenly Chicago was a hellhole. They'd best move on and did so. They lived in six big cities suddenly Barney tired of big cities. He wanted to start out fresh in a small town. And finally, after an aimless odyssey, during which wanderings all Bonnie's fanciful dreams had been shattered, all last vestiges of decency and dignity torn from her, they had come to Mid-Village.
In each new location their fortunes dipped, they could not fall any further. The apartments, rooms, houses became more dirty, decrepit and the neighborhoods more ravaged. In each relocation Barney fervently vowed that this would be their last move. But by then Bonnie wasn't listening any more. His resolve lasted about as long as it took him to find the nearest bar that would grant credit to a new neighbor.
Always a month or so later, they would be loading the household goods skipping the stultifying confines into their car and running from everything again.
They took halting, yet inevitable step after step into the abyss of disillusion, Bonnie became more hardened. What few standards she had were discarded. The whole procedure became pointless. After all, if-one could leave his bills behind, why not leave remains of slovenly habits behind also?
Now she looked around the present rooms noted its clutter. Why couldn't she at least keep this tiny place clean? By inertia and' despair, she knew she could not, why bother. They had been in Mid-Village two months already. And though Barney seemed fairly happy in his job as a waiter, she knew that they would be on their way again. It would-be much easier to leave the mess for someone else. It stayed dirty. Now remembrance of last night's drinking bout and its aftermath thundered down upon Bonnie again, sending nausea through her. It served to remind her of the most unsavory aspect of her marriage, of the ultimate pitfall. The danger signals were painfully obvious. If she thought she could fall no farther, she was tragically mistaken she had to pace herself.
There was the matter of her own drinking since in the past six months it had definitely become a serious problem. Where once she'd been content to accompany Barney to whatever bar he chose, for a few drinks through the length of the endless evening, remaining to see that Barney got home safely, she now had reasons for the evenings out.
She eagerly waited for their prolonged drinking, and casual intimacy with people they might meet at the bars and she'd been able to keep up with Barney, matching him shot after shot of whiskey.
The taste of the booze itself was each time becoming more pronounced. For three months she had been purchasing whiskey, keeping its hiding place secret from Barney. Perversely she didn't want to share it with him. When she awoke those mornings with the perpetual headache, only quick straight shots could lessen the pain. She was an absolute drunkard.
Bonnie was not a graceful drinker the numbing intoxication cut in, she became an ugly drunk. She didn't care for that was nothing after what had happened last night, she proved it. It was only when she was drunk that she could actually enjoy the love-making Barney forced upon her. It was then that she abetted and encouraged him with his depravity, taunting him toughly, painful excess. It was then that she defiled herself in the act of love itself, by describing her sensation in demonical intensity.
Recalling last night's orgy in the boat, when she had forced Barney to deliver, when she had aroused him to final capability, she withered inside now and shuddered.
"You bastard. Do it. Come on, you bust the baby, it feels good, ride me harder darling. Ride it home, damn you! Go! Go on move it, more."
She wished there was a brush with which she could scrub the ugliness out of her head and soul.
The vulgarity once revived in her subconscious, were not so easily gotten rid of. She could not help but recall some of the other instances of base sexuality that liquor had induced.
Last night in the boat had been the absolute worst, but there had been others like she remembered in Chicago with Tony and Ivy Bigby. They were at the Bigby apartment drinking. Playfully Tony had doused the lights, had sought out Bonnie, immediately clutching her, in hot embrace, his mouth devouring hers. In the alcoholic trance Bonnie had, his hands sliding into her dress, deftly worked their way unto her breasts. When Barney had protested Tony had said, "Hell, boy, bother my wife, she's not doing a damn thing at the moment." In a delirium of passion Bonnie had taken his free hand, brought it under her skirt. "Come on baby," she'd slurred. "C'mon home with me. I want you more than once. Leave our spouses where they are". Barney had laughed agreeably at the proposal. Bonnie's hungry hands had played over the handsome Tony's body all the while they drove to her apartment. She'd torn off her clothes on entering inside, ran wildly to the bed, Tony in hot pursuit. She's roused him again and again taking till dawn.
Seemingly driving her out of her mind, he quit. How about out on the island ... and the wild party at the Chantdles. That evening when the girls, were all drunk, the men were constantly attempting to tear the clothes off any female that came within reach, the hostess had herded the eight women into one of the mansion's ten bedrooms, watched with hungry-eyed stare as every woman removed her girdle, panties and stockings. At the last she'd followed their example. Each girl deposited her panties into a paper bag that the hostess provided. Then each girl was assigned a different bedroom, instructed to finish undressing. The bag was delivered downstairs, each man choose a pair of parities, "Okay, boys," she chuckled, "go find' the gal that goes with those pants. And if you get your own wife, swap'. With a wild warery the men charged upstairs. Bonnie had drawn the jaded host himself, a man who had very strange ideas about sexual love, delighting in his weird love making she sensed release four times before he came to her in a conventional way. While she still shuddered from the searing after effects, the man silently left her. The door opened and another man entered. Immediately his mouth was at her breasts, his hands were exploring. When finally his body covered hers, and he entered her, it seemed she must scream from accommodating a lover like him. But all too suddenly he was gone. It seemed that the strangers kept coming all night to return her panties. What of the sex duel with Penny Lee in Vegas; Penny a lush, creamy skinned redhead had boasted to all that evening about her beauty, about how men kissed the floor she walked on. Their husbands busy gambling, the two girls had gone hunting. When they saw the tall, muscular man dressed in a skintight swim suit, they had issued their challenge. Il had been no trick to get him to come up to Penny's room. There had begun a contest without equal in the annals of erotic bedroom-lore. "You can't have both of us, Penny taunted. "Only one of us. So make your choice." Then in cunning, artful fashion both she and Bonnie had began to strip, sliding alluring, sultry, exulting at the eve-popping dismay that clutched the man's face. And finally when they were totally nude, when the man still hadn't found the courage to declare his choice, they both undressed him, pushed him back on the bed and they crawled in with him, one on each side, each murmuring lewd come-ons, offering their bodies, their hands working with purposeful art over his flesh. "Choose, choose . . they chanted. "One of us ... You know you want me they harmonized." The indecision on the man's face was unbearable to behold. Finally, in his torment, the man had flung himself upon Bonnie. "You..." he rasped. Instantly Bonnie adjusted her body, opened her legs to receive him. "Bastard!" Penny wretched from the depths of her being. She had watched the frenzied, clutching bodies. Finally, in intolerable rage and frustration she had dug her nails into his back, left a bloody slash in his skin. Then she'd run from them. "Bastards bastards ... . " To Bonnie the double ecstasy would last forever in her soul.
Now Bonnie awoke from her fit and found her lust was in evidence. Or God, she moaned inwardly. You bitch, just thinking about it gets you jazzed up. Desperately she wanted a man. If she could quell the flushing liquid fire even Harney would do right now.
Barney, please come home-come and get it....
And it was at that moment that Bonnie realized why it was, even with hate, whenever he touched her, though she knew he was leading her to degradation, that she could not leave him. Weak as he was he was still stronger than she. If she would desert him she would become a depraved wanton. There would he only the lust for sensation. She would he driven out of her mind, until she should Become diseased, ravaged if she didn't have his body to lust over.
Without Barney she would become a gutter hugging wanton. She could see her future. She knew that if she didn't attempt to redeem herself she was irretrievable moving to her doom.
Suddenly wracked by the infinite uselessness in her she said. Dear God, Dear God, help me. Don't let it happen to me.
Where will it end? In what mental hospital? On what cat house? She started to cry in convulsive gasps.
Help yourself, Bonnie. You have to help yourself sweet Bonnie, delicate Bonnie where did I go.
All futility flooded her and there was nobody to turn to and the dazzling, numbing fear erupted, Bonnie. She wailed, "What's going to happen to me?"
She collapsed in a heap of human components for a woman but as such there was no motivation for the living as anything but a heap of garbage.
Dear Diary, Date_______
How was this woman going to find a way out where should she begin. Is there another chance to take? What's the hardest step up. Naturally its the simple one. She woke with a puzzled expression on her face, Bonnie shook her head, wondered what had happened. One minute she had been racked by tears and now? She looked dazedly to the clock. It was four o'clock.
Then she realized what had happened. She had fallen asleep. She had slipped into the comfort of sleep. She smiled thinly. When you go to bed you should sleep. The brief catnap had helped. Though she felt groggy her stomach seemed steadier, her head clearer. The memories still in her mind, she nevertheless sensed twinges of hope. She wanted to find it within herself to have a shred of willpower.
She pushed herself to her feet, pulled her shoulders erect. What better starting place? I'll surprise-Barney and clean up house right now. She assessed the task before her. Barney wouldn't be home until six-thirty. Tomorrow she would wash the walls and the windows. If she worked hard enough she could get her mind off things, perhaps forget the booze. Flushed with excitement she cleaned her pots and pans. It was as good a starting place as any.
By six o'clock, the dishes were done, the bed made, everything had been dusted and vacuumed, the linoleum was mopped, the week's newspapers and magazines disposed of. What elbow grease can do for a place, she thought. She then went out to the garden for flowers. Minutes later she was back, humming lightly as she arranged the flowers in a holder. It was a pretty touch after the void.
She had been in love with flowers from a little girl. She checked the hot water in the bathroom and she gathered fresh underwear from her dresser. Then went to take another shower. As she emerged from the bathroom naked, her body pink and glowing from a brisk toweling, preparing to dress in the bedroom, that she caught sight of herself in the large mirror. She Stopped, turned to assess herself, as if surprised to find, that she was still very beautiful. Slowly she approached the mirror with a bump and grind routine.
She let her eyes scan the body searching for traces of unwanted fat at her hips, at her thighs and there was none. She smiled, turning slowly to sec her very smooth back the pert buttocks, the legs, and the tiny feet. There were no blemishes of any kind marking her body except for the "punch" mark in her chest.
Bonnie faced the mirror straight on, feeling a heady confidence sweep her as she evaluated her face and hair, the dainty, yet ample swell of her breasts. The nipples, hard and crinkly, reminded her of tiny bell buttons, built-in she thought in wry amusement. Now her eyes swept down her belly, smooth, anwrinkled, cunningly desirable and mysterious from its very corpuscle and breath stroke.
She wore her hair in a pouff of dark, glistening waves, giving ivory luster to her face, making her large, brown eyes more dusky, more penetrating. Her nose, was tiny, a mere button, yet delicately narrow at the sweeping, graceful brows, enhancing the compactness of her mouth. As Bonnie smiled, the sensuous lips became lush invitations.
Mrs. Bonnie Selden even at the advanced age of 23, despite base appetites was still an extremely beautiful young woman. At that moment, she put all memories aside. She liked herself very much and so satisfied with the compliment the mirror had returned to her, Bonnie wheeled, ran playfully toward the bedroom as her full breasts bounced up and down. She actually blushed.
After six Barney came home to find Bonnie busily preparing dinner, dressed in a simple, yet pretty cotton housedress, her hair meticulously brushed, her face freshly made up. Disbelief registered on his features as he looked at her, then at the room. "What the...! " he muttered. "What hit this place-a red cross unit?"
Bonnie rushed, "You like it?" she said.
"Hard to tell. It's been so damn long. What happened? The coming to call?"
"No. I just got ambitious. It looks nice, doesn't it?"
Barney looked again and rubbed his chin. "Yeah, I guess it does." He shrugged, went to the refrigerator for a bottle of beer. Bonnie felt sudden anger fill her, as she watched him greedily drink. She had expected a little more praise than that. Could she hang on to her temper?"
"Boy, did I need that," he gasped, putting the bottle down, sprawling in the easy chair, his feet automatically slamming down on the polished surface of the coffee table.
"Barney..." don't do that".
"Hell, kid, don't nag. I pay rent for this dump."
"God only knows where you got the energy," he said, grabbing her leg, sliding up under her skirt. She looked down, saw his haggard expression, was further repelled. His hands felt gritty on her clean legs. "After last night. Wow, I was beat all day. And I mean beat", he said.
'Let go, Barney. The dinner is burning ... . "
"Let it burn. There's only one thing I'm hungry for right now. Man, baby, you look grand. Good enough to eat. Just like old times. How's about jumping into the old sack. Take that cute dress off. I'd go for some right about now, beer and Bonnie's buttocks."
Sick disgust welled up within Bonnie. His abrupt, coarse approach had mixed effect upon her, growing apace with her desire. His touch made her nauseous, but yet-Trampy bitch, she charged. What kind of a new leaf is this?
Angrily she tried to pull from Barney's grasp. But his fingers clamped cruelly on the tender flesh of her thigh. "Don't, Barney! You're hurting me," she lied
"How about it then?" His hand slide higher, grasped the elastic of her panties, pulling them down some.
"No!" she rasped, finally wrestling his fingers from the garment, "Hell of a lot of good it does for me to clean up. Just to have you mess me up."
That's why gals doll up don't they Bonnie to be messed".
Bonnie's tone was contemptuous. "You weren't much of a big sex man last night." yon couldn't make it for me".
He flushed slightly, "you weren't so damn particular last night either. You got nothing to act so high and mighty about, got your chops filled."
The sickness grew. Arguing about last night, even alter she had worked so hard, she had made fresh resolve-to attempt to forget last night. "Are you coming?" she snapped. "Or do I have to eat alone?" She didn't even want to ask this.
"All right. I'm coming."
Her victory had turned to smoke. They ate the dinner in the atmosphere of an icebox interior. Their fringed emptiness tinged by her hate.
By ten o'clock Bonnie knew she wasn't going to make it. This afternoon seemed like ancient history. A drink, yes that was it, a short and sweet drink. No amount of self righteous rational ideas could change that.
Barney was already through his fifth beer, and this, plus several shots of whiskey, had induced a happy, careless glow within him. "He'd taunted when she'd refused his third offer of a hi-ball, "you turning into a do-gooder?"
As he rose, she knew she could not refuse. She desperately desired the soothing, alcoholic bite of a drink, the growing comfort it would bring. "How about it?" he sneered.
"Yes" she said in surrender. "Bring me one. Make it a double."
"Now you're talking, honey," he said, his voice already thick. She gulped the drink and when he brought the next she drank deeply. It grew inside her, she knew that she would want another, and another after the next.
Tomorrow, perhaps tomorrow-she'd quit.
Before long they went on the spree of sprees.
Was it the Toe Inn? What the hell, she thought, did it matter? She was having fun, wasn't she? Wasn't that the important thing to carouse?
Swaying in wayward abandon to the music, she giggled lou"'v. Hell, that was me. Suddenly it was the funniest thing in the world.
"What's so funny, baby?" the man, a stranger, said. "Let me in on it."
"My being a slobbering good girl that's ... . "
She never finished the answer because Bonnie struggled to focus her vision on the man. He was Sid Astors. He was the man in the back of the boat last night. How come she was dancing with him?
Then she remembered. There had been a stiff, awkward silence at first, and two Manhattans became five, they had reclaimed last night's lax intimacy, sly reference to the episode became more frequent so that Bonnie wasn't laughing any more. She looked up with puzzled distaste at the man who was holding her too close, whose hands were familiarly roaming too far down her back. "Don't ... " she protested.
"Whatsa' matter, Bonnie?" he said, "You didn't mind last night that much baby did you?"
"This isn't last night. This is tonight."
"Hell, I can fix that. At closing time we can take another ride. Maybe tonight Barney would like to try my wife ... . "
Through the torpor of her drunkenness Bonnie could sense her distaste. No ... she didn't want that. Not tonight. Not ever.
"Please, Sid, stop. I don't think I wanna' dance like this anymore." She pulled away and went back to the bar. Again she felt foretaste of disaster as she saw Barney and Adele awaiting them at the bar. She saw the strange stare with which Adele looked her over. It was almost as if she were winking at Bonnie, reminding her of a peculiar secret they shared. Bonnie could remember no secret....
The alcoholic joy of the evening was spoiled. She didn't want to stay any longer she told Barney this. She wanted to go home. She wanted to hide.
"Barney, honey," she slurred. "I wanna' go now ... . "
He laughed harshly. "How about that, Adele? She's so hot for it she can't hardly wait." He addressed Bonnie. "Hold off, kiddo. You'll get yours. In due time. We've still got'n hour before closing time ... . "
Bonnie knew how she could get Barney to come with her now. It was a time-worn trick. "But I can't wait, Barney, darling .Please take me home. Anyway take me out in the car. I gotta have you now ... . Let's go".
She felt Barney tremble beside her, his arm coming around her waist hungrily. She knew she'd got to him. "Please, darling," purposely making her voice husky. "I need you so much ... come get me".
All other thoughts were driven from Barney's mind. Despite the Astors' protests he struggled up from the bar stool, and followed. Winking back at the Astors, he said, "we got a hot fire that needs puttin' out."
Out in the car his hands were harsh and demanding, and it was all Bonnie could do to refrain from crying out. She felt the slow growing desire stir in the pit of her stomach, she knew she was just drunk enough to enjoy the animalistic desire that would occur before long.
"Hurry, Barney," she groaned, driving her tongue into his ear. "Hurry ... take me home."
In the dark bedroom she could hear the heavy breathing as Barney tore at his clothes, his drunken voice detailing the delights he would confer upon her. As she waited she trembled from the throbbing pressure building inside her.
Then Barney was pushing her roughly back on the bed, his hands probing beneath her skirt, tugging at her panties, bringing them down at once. Now the dress and slip were being pulled over her head, and she was laying on the bedspread in only her bra. She felt the invisible goose bumps. Finally, the bra was loosened, pulled down her arms as his teeth sunk into her.
"Baby," she heard Barney breathe. She felt the wildfire spread through her breasts, speed down her loins as his lips enveloped her nipples, his hurting fingers riled the tips. Then he became impatient with the preliminaries, drove his hand low on her body. She cringed from the pain but didn't withdraw. "Be gentle, darling," she pleaded, "don't hurt".
He cursed. "Hell don't tell me how to do this, you bitch. I've taken care of enough of your kind to know what a broad wants!" He clenched the flesh of her inner thighs with perverted cruelty. "Spread 'em, Bonnie. Don't play the scene with me. I know how much you want it to get to you the hard way."
Gradually Bonnie came to forget the pain, let herself become buried in the growing fever within. Let it be primordial, she thought. Let him ravish me like a rutting animal, an inflamed stallion rearing. In her drunken trance she wanted him to hurt her, to make it evil. She hoped he would demand variations of it.
Seemingly he read her mind, for he abruptly pulled away from her abused breasts, flopped heavily beside her on the bed. Simultaneously he swept her toward him, bringing her small body atop his. "You ... tonight ... " he gasped. "For awhile ... go". Then he slid her body along his, positioned it. His fingers sought her. A surgeon was slicing her. A tingling, burning fire transformed her into a sex machine.
"Oh, baby;" she sighed as the wound was torn open, as the technique was carried to its ultimate conclusion. Her body lurched, and she flung herself upon Barney, straining for the exquisite contact from the start.
To guide her own destiny, to precisely pinpoint sensation, she voiced loud sounds of deliverance into the darkness, the swiftness of its purging flame dazzling her. The moment her cries diminished, she felt her body twisting, she felt the heavy, oppressive weight upon her.
My way," Barney gritted, his lips and legs massive between hers, his body slamming at hers with vengeful fury, they seesawed thus many times.
Must he always be cruel, self-indulgent? Then the demoniac urge pervaded her self-pity, and she flung herself in answer with "Don't hurt me, baby, try harder".
"Goddammit, shut up. I know what you need, and that's what you're getting. Now shut up and take it."
The fire became a white hot ball within her. She knew he was right. She knew she wanted this domination, this unresisting surrender to base instincts. She was aglow.
"Yes, lover," she choked. "Yes."
"You like it this way, don't you, you goddamned little whore?"
"Yes ... . " She drove her feet into his legs, "yes, yes, yes ... . " And the past returned to her mind, demanded release ... you beautiful stud, ride menever stop riding this mare.
The more Bonnie screamed, the louder he became, the more depraved became his prompting of her.
Dear Diary, Date_______
Not all, of any, particular thing, can come easy to us unless we will it to be so. Self respect comes from that willpower and Bonnie was trying hard but it was nearly ten before Bonnie woke that morning. While the hung over sickness and the remorse, were not as bad as the previous day, they were, nevertheless, bad. This morning she was not forced to make a headlong dash for the bathroom; nor was she obliged to drink shots of whiskey to regain herself. The desire to do so was there. But today it was not desperate. She managed to control the desire, to busy her mind with other thoughts.
There were other thoughts, indeed all ugly.
Surely Bonnie had expected that she would have to occasionally submit to her husband's sexual demands. Loveless as their marriage might be, no matter how much distaste in it, it was called a marriage, legal and binding. As such, a husband, even as unfeeling a husband as Barney had become, does have certain undeniable rights.
But had it been necessary last night to prime herself so eagerly for the session, to offer herself unbridled? The encouragement she gave him made her blush now.
Going to hell, she thought. God, wasn't there any hope for her, why must her future be like this.
She reevaluated her naive approach to righting her life. What a puny solution yesterday had been! She looked about her and saw things messed from Barney's wild departure for work.
And yet, she thought, a new spear of hope piercing her, with the exception of the kitchen, the empty bottles in the living room, didn't she have a head start on the day? And every day things would be a little better, she would be a little stronger, her resolve would stiffen until no amount of alcohol or callous indifference from her husband would undermine her determined purpose.
After all, remember Rome. God, she had to start somewhere. She shouldn't quit at the very first setback, it wasn't that conclusive.
She was far from winning her struggle. It was a crutch but she couldn't stop just like that. Gradual withdrawal that was the secret, consume less ration intake. She allowed one drink this afternoon after she finished her housework, before she started dinner. Instead of taking a few drinks to stave off the danger, she'd let the desire grow. Then when she'd give in to her need, she'd gone overboard. Naturally she caused a disaster.
Reencouraged to rehabilitate herself, she rose from the littered table, set about the day's duties. What was it she planned yesterday? Oh, yes, wash the windows. And afterward there might be time for a visit to laundromat. She became the young housewife again.
It was three-o'clock, the preordained time for Bonnie's afternoon break. According to her rigid schedule, laby and dispirited though she'd felt, the day's tasks were finished. A pan simmered slowly on the stove. It was special, one of Barney's favorites. Carefully, almost reverently telegraphing every moment of the ritual, Bonnie drew the whiskey from its hiding place. She mixed a drink, purposely, to prevent seconds, Bonnie replaced everything Whiskey, ice cube tray, soda. Then she took up one of her movie magazines, sat at the kitchen table to enjoy her alcoholic intermission.
But the first drink was too soon gone, and after warring with herself briefly over a second, she finally gave in, rose, went through the entire procedure a second time. It was a lesson, she mused. Tomorrow she would hold herself to one drink. And the next day....
She was finished with her second drink, determined there would be no more, when she heard a knock on the door. She felt happy for the timing. She checked her hair and makeup before answering.
He was young, handsome, possessed of a disarming, charming manner. Though he was only 23 at the oldest, there was still a jaunty, worldliness about him. She felt the familiar stirrings of physical attraction stir within her. It pleased her immensely when she noted his eyes on her, sending a quick stab into her chest. She caught his eyes lingering on her breasts as he talked.
And though she realized almost at once what was happening to her, she minimized it. After all, it was a mere flirtation; nothing could come of it. But wasn't it pleasant to have someone as clean-cut as this man notice you? She felt a strange buzzing in her head. Goodness. She hadn't had that much to drink.
The man's name was Frank Pell he announced, and he represented Zincpan, Manufacturers of Cooking Utensils, and would she be interested in hearing of their special offer? Of course she wasn't interested in pots and pans, but she didn't say so. Having someone to talk to, someone to fuel this heady sense of well being, that suddenly made sense to her. Besides, Mr. Pell would be an excuse to have a drink with.
By four o'clock Frank Pell had had three drinks with Bonnie, and by that time, he too, was no longer concerned with pots and pans. He had vastly more pressing things on his mind.
In her fog Bonnie regarded the pretty man. He sat closer to her on the davenport (her drink count high), wondering what to do if he tried to kiss her. She looked at his soft, smooth lips, wondered how they would feel. But of course she would turn him off. It was fun to tease a man, to watch him. He was so clean so refined looking. Maybe she would let him kiss her once, but no more. After all, another hour and Barney would be home for his.
Then his arm came slowly about her shoulders, and Bonnie felt a shudder go through to the marrow of her bones. "Bonnie," he breathed softly. "You're so beautiful. I wonder if your husband really knows how to treat you." A time tested line. Here was a man who saw her hidden values. If only he would ... .
Their lips came closer, inch by inch. "Your eyes are so lovely, so terribly expressive. like there's an unknown something hiding behind them." Women really feel for that too. Usually they were wild to reveal just what it was that was lurking there behind it all.
Bonnie was consumed with desire, with a flaming need for this stranger's body. In her alcoholic daze she felt he could understand what she wanted was a gentle kind of love. And beyond that she wanted him for her sudden lust. She had to have him. He probably could soothe her flames.
In an instant signal of submission Bonnie's tongue flicked out, eagerly worked its way past his lips, into his teeth. As his tongue speared hers Bonnie knew what would happen next. She predestined it or so she thought.
His hand slipped inside her sweater, wriggled inside her brassiere. Bonnie clung to him all the more, trapping his hand between their bodies. She broke, leaped to her feet. In a single bound she was locking the door. "There isn't time..." she chanted as she stood before him pulling the zipper of her slacks. Then she let them slide down her legs. shoes," she whispered, "pull them off.
Instantly Frank was at her feet, pulling feverishly at the laces. He helped her pull off the slacks. With long, sweeps of his hands he stroked her legs, ventured to the silk bound beauty of her stomach, his hands clutching the shadowed place behind the nylon panels of her panties in a brutish squeeze.
"There isn't time," Bonnie repeated again, whirling away, walking toward the bedroom. "Get undressed while I get ready. Then you come in." Quickly he stripped.
The man was truly beautiful, lean, hard muscled, no hair on his smooth, clean chest. After Barney it would be heavenly, Bonnie thought, lying full length on her back. Anxiously she watched him approach the bed and he sized up his target for today.
He was gentle, despite Bonnie's rushing him on. She couldn't wait much longer. His lips played with her breasts, with her quivering belly, with her passion-pocked legs, his hands, meanwhile, caressing and probing with devilish mischief, working persistently, arousingly. Puffs of breath, steadily escaped her throat, betraying her desperate need but she didn't care now.
"Pretty Bonnie," he intoned as if talking to a baby. His hand at her legs and then he was positioning himself over her. "My pretty Bonnie." The soothing words thrilled Bonnie, made her quiver. Then Frank was lowering himself with casual slowness to her, making her body tremble. Bonnie thrust to meet his. In compelling abandon she thumped on the cobblestone of love.
Finally a thick sign escaping Bonnie, the union had been completed, she felt sated. Slowly at first, his tempo increasing with each gasp and groan, he began to move, his body fluid graceful, like a rubber band made. It was beautiful beyond Bonnie's wildest dreams compared to her Barney.
"Sweet, sweet, sweet. . . " he cooed at her. "You beautiful sculpture."
Bonnie could say nothing. She only clutched herself to him. Embraced seemingly on the verge of fainting from the delicious, holy ecstasy that transfigured her, she cried. There were only the soft, piteous whimpers, thin and pleading that erupted from her throat with each new organism. Sleep peaceful sleep was upon her.
It was over, she dozed briefly so that she did not hear the man leave.
Suddenly she awoke, glanced at the bedside alarm. God, she startled. Five-ten. Twenty minutes and Barney would arrive home. She lunged up to warn the man-Frank. But she was surprised, then frightened to find him gone. She'd hope once more, for him to return.
She lurched from the bedroom, making for the bathroom, she realized what had happened. Sin-was sickened by the carnal helplessness of her surrender to the stranger. Bonnie, she condemned. You thrill hungry bitch! You've done it again like a creature of the night.
Terrorized despair slammed her. She would never understand this terrible compulsion that enslaved her. Why, why, why? Must she constantly he wracked by this despair that created her lust by association.
Dear Diary, Date_______
Now the long, orgiastic, dimly remembered weekend was over. The pain in her head was there but not too badly. It was a familiar ache, one which she had experienced every week for the past half year. Rarely, were her Mondays any different it did her an injustice to waste her time.
Did she expect anything else? She charged herself. What else? When you drink for almost a day straight?
There was only one consolation. A very minor one at that. There had only been Barney. She had controlled the drinking to that extent. She hadn't slipped out to the car with a stranger as before. They hadn't run onto the Astors, taken another ill-fated ride. Only Barney. She grimaced with self loathing as she hazily recalled the weekend, as she appraised her own drunken contribution to the pagan nights. She poised herself to flee to the bathroom. But the queasiness passed and she gained herself.
Bonnie wasn't ready to admit defeat. Possessed of a dogged determination, she was ready to continue her feeble efforts at self-redemption.
Granted, the house looked like the entire army had bivouacked in it over the weekend. But that was to be expected. Given a few hours she would be able to shape it up. And even if everything else went to hell-if she was helpless to control her ceaseless thirst for sexuality also, this was something she wouldn't knuckle under to. It was a starting place, and by God, she'd keep lining up if it killed her. Good Lord deliver us. Aren't you hopped up on that garbage today, though?
Grimly, slowly, her head feeling like Niagara Falls, Bonnie rose from the table, deserted her half finished cup of coffee, prepared for the dishes piled in the sink. She whistled a happy tune.
By two o'clock she had straightened out the weekend mess. Throughout her lunch she gained strength and mildly obtained an optimistic outlook. Bonnie was again at loose ends with herself.
She accepted her weakness for what it was, Bonnie realized it would be disastrous to remain in the house alone this afternoon. She had to get out today, she had to see people-decent people-or she'd crack up. The desire for decency, for self esteem was a deep feeling within her. If there was only someone she could lean upon for strength. She wanted so desperately-someone, please ... . She was afraid to be alone and so she wanted to go out to he with people.
Finally Bonnie decided. A half hour later, dressed in a becoming dress, wearing a coat, her legs encased in nylons, her feet in pretty dark pumps, she emerged from the house, started for the cab stand on the highway. If nothing else she would go into town and do some window shopping and people watching.
Mid-City, a moderate sized city of 25,(KX). boasted a shopping area of some ten blocks, in the city's main drag. It was along this nondescript avenue that Bonnie slowly walked, to gaze at the women's shops, no matter how inexpensive any of them were she could not buy anything. There was no money in their lives for 'non-essentials.' More galling was the thought that at one time she wouldn't even give a tumble to the cheap merchandise featured in the pitiful shops. But now-that time seemed decades behind her. Had there ever been that much money? She shook her head to block the tears.
On a side street just off the busy section of town she came upon the Mid-City bookshop. It was a small, comfortable stone front building. Recalling a rash moment months back when she had actually written for and received a book, Bonnie turned up its walk. She had time to kill; what better place than a bookshop? They wouldn't serve her a drink at least.
Perhaps there was something symbolic about her discovery of the quaint shop. Perhaps she could find some sort of answer to her problems here within the quiet haven of knowledge.
It had been months since she'd read a book. Where once she'd been an avid and discriminating reader, she now read the women's magazines,, and screen and confession mags. Occasionally she glanced through some of the adventure and girly magazines Barney brought home. Recalling her superior grades in college, she was at a loss that she'd let her standards sink to a low-ebb. She could achieve a breakthrough, and a purpose to her life by coming to this bookshop.
After a half hour's directionless scanning of the books after fingering and rejecting books after books, she realized the void on her. She was hopelessly out of touch. She tried to remember a best-seller she'd hard mentioned on TV recently. But it was impossible. She was in the trap of having rejected herself before this moment and now she was being made to sense it.
Angriness, suddenly swamped her. She had grown away from the decent aspects of life. Let's get out of this dump, she thought. She was on the verge of bolting when the unexpected male voice penetrated her thoughts.
"Pardon me, miss. I was wondering. Perhaps I could be of some help to you ... . "
"Help?" she stammered, whirling to face the man.
"Yes. I couldn't help noticing you." He paused, smiled modestly. "If I could recommend something---"
Bonnie thought. Some new land of a pitch? A character who tries picking up girls in a bookshop. It was funny. Her voice came harsh, defensive: "What would you recommend?"
The man colored slightly. "I'm speaking of books. If you could give me some idea of the type of book you're looking for ... . "
"Say, what's with you? Do you run this place?
"No, I have a partner in it with me. He runs it. I do an awful lot of reading and I thought...."
"This isn't a gag, is it?"
"Please, miss, I'm only trying to help." His tone was earnestly sincere, and Bonnie, recovering from her surprise, was immediately regretful over her suspicious attitude. She had not trusted him till now.
". . . I'm sorry," she said, flushed to the core, "You ... you took me by surprise."
"You seem perturbed. If you could tell me what sort of reading you enjoy ... . "
The minute the words were blurted forth Bonnie was sorry. 'True stories of happiness ... something with values..." she stopped short all agag.
An understanding grin formed on his lips. "I see. Literary, or pure story?"
The question stumped her. "A little of each, I guess".
"A love story?"
"Not necessarily ... . "
"Maybe family" he seemed prophetic to her.
Yes ... family, Bonnie thought, a sudden sadness gripping her. It had been so long since she'd known any family, the book would help quiet the longing.
"Yes," she replied, her voice betraying her, revealing the hidden hunger. "I'd like that very much, thanks".
Again the discerning, sympathetic smile. "I guess we'd best go into the stacks for that. Our current writers haven't been concerning themselves with values lately. Mostly sensationalism ... quick buck sort of stuff."
Calmly, wondering at the immediate trust she'd felt and conferred upon the stranger Bonnie followed him toward the east wing of the shop feeling that somehow she knew this man all her life. They came to the 'L' section, turned in.
"Here we are. Frans Worth". Almost reverently he drew down a well worn volume. She recognized the title immediately, "The Good Land".
"-likely to get emotional about this book," he smiled. "It's one of the greatest ever written. Have you read it?"
"No, but I...."
"I know what you're going to say. You've seen it on television. So have about fifty million others. If the damned fools would only tackle the book...." He halted. "Excuse me. But that's how strongly I feel about it. They just don't write books like this anymore. Writers today are so blasted busy trying to be hard and sophisticated. ... They've forgotten simple values, on the real meanings of life around us".
She was strangely moved. He was addressing her as an intellectual worthy adult. There was no condescension, no hidden motive in his manner. She'd never been treated this way before. He was respectful of her.
"Of course Frans Worth never wrote anything again, "but thank God this got published".
He's artistic and sensitive. She wondered what he did for a living. Then she appraised the man as a whole from head to toe. He was painfully plain, on the small side, perhaps five six, his body thin, there being a fleshiness about it. His hair was black rather wavy, combed back neatly. The eyes that regarded her from the weathered, lined face were sparkling and enthusiastic, worldly. It was obvious he had been around. Still there was none of that cocky business about him. He probably is what he seems to be.
He might be anywhere from thirty to thirty-five years of age. There was a reasonable face of philosophical good humor that set Bonnie's mind at ease. Suddenly she was hit by a compelling desire to know this man better.
"Excuse me. I was thinking about something else. I'm sorry ... . "
"My book review wasn't so interesting after all, was it?" He smiled.
"No, it wasn't that. It was very interesting. I only wish I could talk so interestingly, about anything...."
She reached for the book. "May I?"
"Oh?" he said, pleased. "You mean I've made a sale?"
"But definitely." Bonnie flipped the pages. "I tan hardly wait to get started."
"Now then, about the love story ... . " Abruptly he paused, an embarrassed expression on his face. "Well," he sputtered. "How gauche can a guy get? I never thought to introduce myself." He offered his hand in a comradely manner. "Scott Ballard, and you are ... . ? "
Bonnie ... Bonnie Se..." She swallowed the I also note. "Bonnie Sellers". Insane, she thought. Absolutely insane.
"Miss or Mrs?"
Again the minute hesitation. "Miss..." Quickly she concealed her left hand under the book to hide her rings. Why was she lying like this for why ... . !
"Glad to know you Bonnie". He let her hand drop. Bonnie sensed regret. His touch had been comforting in some mysterious way. "Now let's see. Love story. What can I recommend?"
Then his eyes brightened. "Got it. Just the thing for you. None of the female mush, just enough masculinity in it to make it poignantly real. Follow me."
Three stacks farther on they found the IV section. Bonnie was disappointed when he put a book in her hands. The titled spine read. "This little gem," Scott smiled enthusiastically, "I've read at least six times. Practically know it by heart. Deals with these three buddies in Germany during the period just before Hitler rose to power. Concerns the love of these friends for each other as well as for their women." His voice grew tender. "But mostly it's about Walter and Desmond."
It had been so long. So long since she'd known anybody who could care for things outside themselves, who weren't totally egocentric, pleasure seeking. It was a thrilling feeling of personal warmth.
"You make it sound so beautiful," she said.
"It is," he winked. "You'd better grab it while you can otherwise I'll start reading it right now."
"Oh, I will take it," Bonnie said.
"Now how about something else? Maybe something with a happier ending. Both of these have grim endings ... . "
Bonnie laughed. "No, please ... maybe next time."
Again the warming smile. "How do you know there will be a next time?"
There must ... a voice within Bonnie raged, the heady intoxication within her almost forcing her to articulate her inner feelings. There must---
T was hoping ... " she said lamely.
"You were?" He took her arm to lead her from the stacks. "Well to tell the truth," he said with humor-etched gravity, "so was I. I'm in here almost any afternoon. Beading serves as an outlet for you I see."
"Surely your wife and family must occupy some of your time...."
His eyes turned to her. "Not married yet."
Bonnie felt her heart pound, she felt the compassion flood her anew. "Oh..."
"Here," he said, "let me check those books out for you. You look like a stranger around here. Do you have a charge account?"
"Yes. Here in my bag." Half turning from the man Bonnie used the fumbling search to good advantage, managing to slip oft her rings. "Here it is." Her ring finger felt naked, conspicuous as she offered the card. Surely he would notice the impression the rings had left.
Taking the card he turned into the aisle. It was then that she noticed the limp. His right leg was injured. Temporary revulsion filled her but almost immediately the feeling left her. Then she was scolding herself for her juvenile shock. What did it matter, really? Was he any less a man for the infirmity?
"Perhaps you're going my way, Miss Sellers", he said, handing her the volumes.
"Bonnie..."
'Thank you, Bonnie. Maybe I could walk you part way."
"Of course, Scott". Excitement gripped her again. Even saying his name was a strange pleasure. "I'd like that very much".
Bonnie purposely steered Scott past her home, not wanting to risk having Barney see her with a strange man should they happen to pass the doors of Avery and Company. It was as they neared. a small, modern cocktail lounge that Scott said, "Perhaps you'd have a drink with me, Miss ... I mean Bonnie. It's not every day I latch onto someone who'll listen to me talk books" So she accepted the first date this way.
Vainly Bonnie searched her mind for words to express her coyness but it had been so long since she'd acted demure. "Yes, Scott," I'd love to," she said.
The bar was intimately dark and close, the serving to inflame Bonnie's mood to the core. She certainly didn't need the drink Scott ordered to help things along. They sat in a small booth across from the bar, she on one side of the table, Scott on the other. There was a long pause, awkward, yet significant as they waited for the bartender to come over for their order. And still the inner excitement mounted as she brushed her knees on Scott's by mistake. Bonnie drank her first drink too fast, feeling it cut in to her responsibility factor. It glowed in her brain. And all the while Scott continued to talk, the heat in the glances he sent Bonnie felt fully intoxicating. He discussed books for a time, Bonnie making comments all along. He found her interesting. It seemed incredible to her but she felt stimulated like she did in her college days.
Little by little Bonnie drew him out, brought the conversation around to Scott himself. He was a freelance painter struggling but secure in his profession, an ex-paratrooper, veteran of the Korea War, he was 34 years of age. And though Bonnie was struggling hard to keep herself in tow about the defect of her twisted personality she could not help but perk up when he said he maintained a walk-up studio apartment on the east side of town. He showed her some photos of it from his wallet. She so desperately desired to know Scott better to have their relationship coirie to be a beautiful thing. She knew that she wanted Scott. She wanted to offer herself to him, not only with desire, but in hope that such a passionate interlude could give him permanence in her life. He was something terrible special to her and she felt the excitement of it.
Scott was someone who was interested in her for herself. He was willing to give her dignity and respect. Others weren't clawing at her clothes, nor mauling her body. She almost laughed at the irony of the understanding and common ground. And was she savoring it? No, instead it was she who was wild to tear off her clothes, to throw herself at this all important man who really respected a woman.
Though she was not drunk, she suffered a lightheadedness. "You can't know how much I'm enjoying this," she said. "It's been so long since I've talked to anyone like this, it's really been wonderful."
"I'm glad, Bonnie," he said softly. "I'd hoped we'd get to be good friends."
She smirked. "It pays to visit your bookshop often."
"I think I'd best be going," she said. It was late. If this didn't move him to ask her, nothing would, she breathed in hot expectations her nostrils tight. . .
Bonnie was accustomed to an entirely different brand of men. No invitation came from him. "Oh, must you go?" he replied, in disappointment. He glanced at his watch. "Time flies with charming Company at your finger tips."
A heaviness settled in Bonnie's heart. It wasn't the answer she'd wanted to hear. What did she have to do? Lay down on the floor and offer it? With a flaming desire, she plunged ahead. "I thought maybe you'd have time to show me your studio," she smiled, curling up inside with sell disgust. Just like a whore. "I've always been interested in seeing how an artist lives. I've heard what uncommon fast living they do."
Was his smile mocking? Or didn't he actually understand what she was hinting at? God, could any man be that naive?
"I'd love to show you Bonnie" he said, "But not today. Everything's one big mess. Besides, there's nothing on the drawing board. And you know how important first impressions are. But please come over on Tuesday."
Bonnie swallowed hard, feeling the humiliation settle in her stomach like a heavy rock. He was turning her down. Unbelievable as it was, he was turning her down.
He hadn't known what she'd been offering him she thought. There was hope for Tuesday she sensed unsettling doubts. Or was there? "Suppose I meet you at the shop at one o'clock. Take you over to my place from there?"
"Fine," Bonnie said woodenly. "I'll be there."
"Hey, don't go. I'll give you a lift. I've got my car."
"I'm meeting someone," she lied, fighting hard to keep her voice level.
"Oh," he replied, "Well ... "
Bonnie feigned brightness, "Till Tuesday."
"Yeah."
"Good. We'll be able to discuss these books."
"Sure tiling," he said, upset by the disappointment he seemingly read in her eyes. "Hey, Bonnie, is there anything wrong?"
She blinked rapidly. "No, not at all." Then she was at the door. "Thanks for the drink" she said.
Swiftly she turned away, almost running. Her mouth twisted. She'd be crying other wise. How cheap and obvious can a person get?
For a long time Scott Ballard stood before the bar, watching the beautiful, legs go down the street. Had that poor kid actually known what she was saying, or had he misunderstood? He shook his head, from side to side as if he wanted to shake out his stupidity. He liked the girl but man he remembered those curves too.
Dear Diary, Date_______
Things changed for Bonnie after that in so far as her excesses at least. She had found a purpose of late in curling herself. Now Barney was..."No, no! no! for the hundredth time Barney. "But just for a little while, Bonnie. I promise we'll be home by midnight."
"Go ahead, Barney. Go alone. I'm not budging. I had enough to last me."
"Dammit, Bonnie what are you trying to prove?"
"I just don't want to start drinking, that's all. I think it's about time we both started tapering off. . . we're getting sick on it."
"Oh Christ! Don't start that again. A broken record you are. You suddenly get religion, you're gonna' reform the world? Well, you ain't changing me Baby."
"Who wants to change you?" Bonnie snapped. "Go, maybe you'll run into that blonde slut of yours, that's what you want isn't it? She'll hop in the back seat with you. All you have to do is act the least bit interested and she's sliding her pants down, run along. Don't let me cramp your style..."
"Watch it, Bonnie," he snarled, his eyes glittering darkly. "Careful what you say. Unless you want your face pushed in."
Contemptuously Bonnie tossed her head, looking away from him, concentrating on the TV late movie. Barney slumped back into his chair, anger mirrored on his face. He drank hungrily at the whisky as if seeking strength from it.
"Barney was already quite drunk, Bonnie realized. Dully, yet sensing some small triumph, she regarded the half empty glass of soda pop she drank. She exulted to think, she'd live to see the time when she could forego her booze. She reconsidered. Well, not exactly content, if she could hold out a little longer. Once in bed she'd be safe from the compulsion to drink.
Bonnie had been reading the books all evening, Barney all the while looking at TV. The book was everything Scott had promised, and she was enjoying it immensely. She was hard put to contain herself at some of the beautiful passages and longed to share them with someone. She knew Barney would laugh in her face if she attempted reading to him. If only she could be with Scott now, the longing a restless pang within her. Imagine ... to share this with him.
But finally the TV disturbed her reading and she had closed the book.
Again she pondered her sudden, new found strength of will. Seemingly her brief contact with Scott gave her direction.
It was almost as if she had no cause to pity herself any longer, that merely knowing him compensated for her past. It was because of Scott ... he gave her strength in his manner and moves.
This was only tonight. What about the countless tomorrows facing her? If there were no Scott, what would happen to her? In time the newness of his personality would fade, she would be thrown back upon her own feeble resources she must not think of it.
Think about now ... about the possibility that he might someday ... she trembled. No, it was too much to hope for that Scott would replace the creature across the room from her.
Now she glanced over to Barney. She saw him sleeping, his mouth wide, she rose, snapped off the TV, shook him. "I'm going to bed," she said. "Are you coming?"
He finally stumbled into the bedroom, undressed, dropped his shoes loudly on the floor. Moments later she stiffened, awaiting his crude advances which made her stomach turn now.
"No," she hissed angrily as his hands groped their way beneath her nightgown, "not tonight, forget it."
"Whatsa' matter, baby."
"You proud all of a sudden? C'mon, I want some of it."
"Not tonight," she repeated as she shoved him away.
"Why not? I'm ready."
"Rest, will you? You'll enjoy it more in a few days from now."
"Few days hell! Damn thing'll heal over by then.
Bonnie's tone was pure ice. "Damn you, Barney. I said no. And that's final. I took care of you all weekend. That's enough, no more."
But actually, Barney's heart wasn't really in it. If it was there, he'd take it. Tonight he was sleepy. Moments later he was snoring again, his hand on her breasts.
Bonnie sighed deeply, relieved that Barney had been so easily dissuaded. She was ashamed to admit it, even to herself, but the thoughts of Scott had allowed desire to be swiftly kindled within her body as soon as Barney had touched her.
The heat intensified itself in her thighs. There was no possible doubt about it. She wanted Scott with a passion. She twisted luxuriously on the sheets, imagining what it would be like. Dear Lord, would Tuesday ever come? She squirmed for him.
Bonnie stood in the bedroom, judiciously appraising her lingerie spread upon the bed. She'd been unable to think of anything but Scott for the past three days. She'd have him today if she had to compromise herself on the shop floor. It was a wild pain inside her. To sacrifice herself to Scott ... it would be the ultimate happiness, ooh how she burnt
Finally she picked the white nylon ensemble. It was the newest. The brassiere, corded with concentric stitching, slightly padded for extra allure, would give her breasts more prominent lilt and uplift. And God; she had to lure Scott today. Another three days like these last and she'd go out of her mind.
The panties were nylon crepe, a panel of exquisite lace across the stomach, tiny satin ribbons at each hip. No girdle today, only the white garter belt. She turned, looked into the mirror at the end of the room, saw her naked body, clothed in only the garter belt, her sheerest nylons, black patent pumps, the toes and heels evilly sharp. Immediately she sucked in her breath, felt the nipples of her breasts tighten, turn to steel tips. What a sexed-up cat, she thought, the quiver, the clutching starting in her loins.
She shuddered, then began dressing herself in the filmy, provocative under things, she panted as she went.
She dabbed perfume, behind her ears, between her breasts. Then she took the dress, just the thing for this afternoon. Slowly she slipped it on, worked it down her hips, zipped it. Appraising herself in the mirror she concluded that she was lovely, that she was enough to make any man start.
Besides, she concluded victoriously, there had been but one relapse this week, and that to the minor tune of only two drinks. Her complexion glowed with new freshness, her eyes were bright and clear. A flush of pride went through her. She was beautiful. And it was all due to her lover to be ... the lover she was now hurrying to meet.
At the last minute she removed her rings, placed them in her bag. She checked her seams and went on her way thereafter.
Relieved gratitude swamped her as she saw Scott waiting for her at the counter. Delight swept her as she saw his smile, the appreciation in his eyes, the way he stepped eagerly toward her and grasped her hands.
"Well, hello," he breathed, "My aren't you ravishing today."
"Thank you," she piped playfully, immensely pleased with herself. She turned slightly to catch several of the other male patrons eyeing her. "I'm pleased you noticed."
"How could I help but be, you're a vision of beauty a virtual knock out."
"Thank you again." But behind the bright smile, she thought, Don't Scott. Don't look at me like that. Don't say those things. I'll melt right here.
She fought off the weakness. "And what book chat do you have prepared for me today?" She panicked, it was the last thing in the world s he ever wanted to think about. She only wanted him.
"Oh, I've got some goodies for you. I've been thinking quite a bit about it.
You've been thinking? she raged to herself.
"But first, how about the books I gave you last week? What did you think of them?"
"I loved them, Scott. If ever I hated to see books come to an end, it was with those two. But so sad? I cried like a baby when Walter died. I've been living an entirely different world these past few days and your books did that for me."
His smile was happy, warming. "I got exactly the same feeling when I read it to. It seemed the whole tragic story had actually happened to me. But here," he took her hand, led her back into the stacks, "well have time to talk later. For now, something along the same general line..."
"In my opinion at any rate," he talked and talked and she listened.
Barely heard the man's running commentary, none of his literary enthusiasm was transmitted to her. Her mind was on other things. How gentle his eyes were, how mused and soft his lips appeared, how she'd love to touch that face, how she'd love to bruise those lips with her own. Please Scott, she thought, forgive me. I want to listen, I want to share this conversation with you. If only you knew how much I wish that. But later ... after his terrible want, this fire is lifted from me. Then we can talk.
And she knew it. Before he even touched her with those soft, sensitive fingers, before his lips ever closed on hers. Before they ever exchanged a single endearment. I love you, Scott. I know I do. I've been waiting for you, for this love, all my life, believe me ...
Please don't talk anymore. Take me out of here, we can be alone, we can slam the door on the rest of the whole rotten world. Please, Scott darling. The desire became insane. If only she could utter the words. Scott, darling ... My beautiful darling come to me."
He halted in his talk ... He has a feel for detail that ... " Surprise registered in his gaze. "What is it, Bonnie? What's the matter?"
Swiftly she focused her eyes, broke from her dazed reverie. "Nothing, Scott. I'm all right." An inventive lie formed in her mind. "I don't feel so good, it's ... warm in here ... isn't it?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Bonnie. Why didn't you say something? Instead of letting me rattle on. I'll check these books, then we'll' clear out of here..."
"No, it's not necessary. I feel better now."
"I insist."
Outside the biting coolness of the air helped dispel some of the consuming ardor gripping Bonnie. For a moment they sat on the porch, Bonnie gradually regaining her equilibrium. She smiled wanly at Scott, slowly rose. "There, now I feel much better, where are you taking me?"
"Would you like to go to an art show or have a drink?"
Disappointment crushed Bonnie. She didn't want a drink. She didn't want any more talk. All she wanted was to be alone with him.
Damn. Bonnie thought, she knew it was cheap, brassily forward but she didn't care. She couldn't help herself. She just couldn't. If it was a mistake, then it was a chance she'd have to take. The words poured out of her...
"Don't you have something at your apartment? I mean couldn't we go there instead of a bar to talk...? "
Talk, some talk that will be.
Hesitantly, almost as if fearing the consequences of the visit to his apartment, Scott said, "If that's what you really want, Bonnie. It's not much of a place . .
"Please. I'd much rather," she said. "Bars are usually such noisy places..."
Scott's voice was toneless, abstracted. "All right, Bonnie, let's walk to my parking lot."
Bonnie counted the steps up to his studio as she came to the door. What will they bring? What delight? Would it be a disappointment?
Now Scott brushed past her, his body grazing her breasts, sending a fresh shiver of desire through Bonnie. "Here we are," he said, fitting the key into the lock. "I hope you won't be disappointed."
Then Bonnie was inside the apartment, her eyes swiftly scanning everything. She got an image of him in it. It was a charming room, snug and cozy ... the secure retreat Bonnie bad yearned for all her life. She fell in love with it immediately and the trappings fit her.
Insanely the words went through her brain. Come live with me ... he might say it.
She was looking at Scott's drawing board and the chair facing it, drawings taped to it, a table with pens, brushes, inks and tubes of paint. How she'd love sit in this cozy room, watch him at work. He collected the prints of know artists.
"It's beautiful," she said. "It's a beautiful studio."
She felt suddenly Hushed, the excitement a feverish thing in her. "Oh, you must be happy here Scott. Aren't you, I'll bet on it."
"As happy as any man can expect," he smiled, pleased at her enthusiasm. He came toward her. "Here, let me take your coat."
Bonnie turned toward him, her eyes wide, glistening with unearthly brilliance. How she wished the hands would ignore the coat, that they would continue down her shoulders, come around her body, gather her breasts in a display of desire. But no. The hands only removed her coat.
He was speaking to her, she did not hear. "What did you say?" she stammered, I'm sorry."
"I asked you," he smiled, "what you'd like to drink.-"
"Drink?"
"Yes, drink. Remember, we came up for some drinks and conversation."
"Oh, yes. Anything you have."
"Tom Collins be all right?"
"I'd love it." She dully watched him disappear through the door into the kitchen. If she could only do something about this hot, heady feeling, if she could control herself. She felt so strange and weak. Scott, please hurry.
He was back, he placed the tray on the small table and sat down beside Bonnie. He was just reaching to hand Bonnie her glass when it happened.
I can't help myself. I don't want to wait any longer.
"Leave it there, Scott," she said in a piercing voice. "I don't want it. I didn't come here for a drink..."
Her voice was possessed with the devil, "I came for this..." and with a slow, relentless motion she came to Scott, her lips delicately nestling into his with an ease that amazed her. It was almost as if they had been kissing each other all their lives.
"Bonnie ... " he started, but his words were swallowed, driven to retreat by the gentle, frightened caress of her lips on his own. Dazedly, yet instinctively he brought his arm up, drew her closer and responded.
Electricity went through Bonnie as their mouths met, as she felt his hot, surprised gasp against her cheek, as she sensed his submission, the slight, delicious quiver of him. And she fought the storm possessing her, to keep from becoming greedy, to keep from crushing herself against him, to keep from driving her mouth to his in ruthless abandon. It must be gentle. For this was the man she loved, she would always love and she was making it known.
The hot, moist mouths parted, and Bonnie opened her eyes to the dismay masking Scott's face. "Bonnie," he murmured. "I ... "
Now she could say the words she had longed to say for so long. "Scott my darling . .
Suddenly he was trembling, "Bonnie my baby...? he choked.
"Yes, darling ... I want you to ... now."
His head lowered to her lips touched the sweet, membranous flesh of her mouth. And for a moment they were tender again. But at last Bonnie could not control the torrid fever that fled through her, and she clutched his head, drove her mouth to his with primitive appetite, her tongue impatiently seeking his.
Now, gasping, trembling from the fever that had pervaded the very marrow of their bones, they tore apart.
"Please don't stop now."
Burying his lips in the fragrant smoothness of her throat, he gathered the diminutive woman in his arms, lifted her. With rapid strides he took her to the bedroom, he couldn't stop.
Now Bonnie lay on her back upon the coverlet staring up at Scott, seeing the utter astonishment in his gaze. "No," she said her voice distant, open the blind. I want the sunshine. I want to see ... to remember every detail ... " She twisted her body in a pang of inner passion. "Come to me my darling..."
Scott peeled her dress from her body and then her slip. He paused, moved away from Bonnie. His eyes, his mouth reflecting the effect her submissive, eager beauty was having upon him. He sat stiffly, surveying her beautiful body, his hands on fire, stroking the silken surface of her legs.
Seeing the expression, Bonnie was impaled, a cruel hand was ripping her up inside. The devotion was too much to bear. I'm not good enough for you, Scott, the voice in her brain seethed. My darling. If only I could have come to your arms clean ... a virgin for you.
"Darling, take me, touch me, I want you, I'm all yours."
"You're so indescribably lovely, Bonnie, are you sure."
God, the irony of it, she thought, squirming. If only he knew. "Don't talk, Scott. Don't talk. Just come to me, I am so sure it hurts dear."
His hands closed on her breasts. She thought she would die. Never had she felt like this. Never had she anticipated the act like this. This was different. And she was a virgin again, this was the first time again. It's never been so good, she raged. Never, never, never.
"Undress, me. Oh, please, sweet lover. Don't make me wait."
But he did not heed her. Instead he slowly ran his hands over the silken surfaces of her body, along her legs, her stomach, hips and buttocks, along her big straining breasts. And with each second the gasps emerging from Bonnie's throat became more hysterical. "Please, please, please now."
With infinitely painstaking ritual he finally slid her pumps from her feet, worked her gauzy stockings down her smooth, beautiful legs. Then the panties were arousingly removed, his hands touching her incessantly, like hot, torturing brands. His lips devoured hers while his hands carefully unsnapped her brassiere. Now she was naked before him, and again he paused to worship, to caress her body with his eyes and hands.
He lowered himself to her breasts, his tongue and lips attending them with exquisite tenderness, making her feel like she had turned to liquid inside. And finally, when it seemed she could stand no more of the delectable sensations, he spoke.
Gravely he took her hands, placed them over each breast. He rose. "Don't look," he said.
But Bonnie wouldn't listen. She wanted to see the man. It was all bound up in the sacrifice she wanted to make. Now Scott was naked, came toward her. Immediately her eyes slid over his body, disfigurement meant nothing. She loved it. Everything she wanted in her Scott.
"It's all right, Scott," she sighed. "It's all right."
Then Bonnie's eyes turned to Scott she felt the scalding desire instantly renewed within her as she saw that he was all man. A real man. "Now, Scott?"
"Now sweetheart," and his hands reached for her.
He couldn't resist a last swift passage at her breasts. And just before ... Bonnie screamed softly from the delicious pain as his teeth closed teasingly on the flesh of her nipples. Each pap was a hard bullet in his mouth.
Their bodies were locked together, Bonnie's hands went forward to greet and guide her lover. Then her body enclosed his, his weight was a delightful burden, a burden she never wanted to have off her.
A blinding, flaming torch was pressed to her body, causing her to stiffen, to start. Then the flame guttered a comfortable warmth, this was something basic, the ultimate purpose of man and woman, respectful.
And gradually she aroused him. The persistent movement demanded response, compliance. But still she was teasing. Her drowsy flesh was content, for the moment, to hold back. This was right, so terribly right, she thought dazedly, the purpose to which her whole life had been bending. Only she had never t known it, she could be gentle too. With Scott ... at last.
Again the flame took life, burned more boldly. But she knew now, she thought, the joy a delirious thing inside her. She knew now. It was true, this sensation was entirely different. It was not mere animal lust. It was sacrifice and giving. This was the difference real love made, a union not a personal ego mania. Then, suddenly somewhere deep within her she felt a heavy throbbing, release and after-release came joyfully.
She closed her eyes tightly, surrendered to the blowtorch heat of her deliverance, arching her body for perpetuation of it. In the distance she heard the screams of a woman in ecstasy. She smiled in sloe-eyed satisfaction at her joy.
Then she remembered Scott, her joy a searing, transporting explosion within her body. He was her man it was he who had made this physical act meaningful again. Above her he chanted softly."
"Bonnie you sweet, sweet thing." Now gradually his cries became more hoarse, more urgent. She knew what would happen now .but she didn't want it to happen. Not so soon. Not ever. She only wanted endless recreation of this joy. I love you, Scott, the stunning thought came. Strange that she should have forgotten.
"Do you hear, darling?" she groaned. "I love you. I love you. For the first time I know what love really is. And you brought it. I love you, I love you ... my Scott."
And Scott, reechoed her cries. "I love you, Bonnie." ' At last she was a whole woman, completely so...
Dear Diary, Date_______
The ensuing weeks were the happiest of Bonnie's life. They made up for all of her life till now. The memories of those days 'of love would last the rest of her life.
She was at Scott's apartment every day, spending more time there than home. In her avid pursuit of happiness with Scott, she had not, as yet, found the courage to face up to the reality of her hopeless situation. What would finally happen between her and Barney became a depression, at times as she dreaded Barney.
Time would show her a way, and in die meantime she would grab happiness any way she could. With both hands she would...
By eleven-thirty at the latest she would emerge from the bus at the stop near Scott's apartment. Finally, her legs rubbery, her heart hammering frenziedly at prospect of being with Scott again, she would be walking toward his studio. Proudly, disdainful she met the landlady's smirking, accusing stare. What would the old hag know about the real meaning of love, the sacrifices one would make in its behalf?
At long last the door would be flung open and Scott would be standing before her, smiling warmly his eyes afire with love for her, the sight of him causing her to melt. Then in his arms, he would be kissing her, they would nourish, reaffirm their love at each other's lips and souls.
Sometimes they would go directly to bed, where, according to the dictates of their blood, Scott would undress ... quickly, impatiently, all but tearing her garments from her ... or in exquisite, sensual tease, stopping at each new revelation, to caress, kiss, implore. Finally, when they were both torn with internal agony, when they could withhold themselves no longer, their bodies would merge and weld to each other. Dependent upon their need for one another, the act might be brutally rapid consummation or it might be prolonged drawn to dizzying, ecstatic lengths slowly.
Often they would content themselves to wait. These times pushing Scott's hands away, going to the kitchen to prepare lunch. This man who was now more husband to her than Barney.
Bonnie caught insight into the real meaning of being a woman. It seemed that, with Scott, new facets of the male-female relationship were constantly being revealed to her, new visits of self-worth were being unveiled.
The afternoons, the peaceful, purposeful dignity of the fleeting afternoons, when she sat near Scott, watching him work, listening to him describe the why and wherefores of a particular work process.
Sometimes she would sit in a sleepy, bemused silence, content to watch his beautiful hands move across the white paper, to create. Often she read, pervaded by a feeling of inner security that seemed almost sacred and religious. They spent long hours talking about the lengthening list of books they'd now shared.
Daily Bonnie's confidence grew, she came to accept herself as a more worthwhile person. But never for a second did she forget that it was Scott, who had instilled this fresh reassurance within her.
"Lord, when I think of what a desolate dump this apartment used to be," Scott often said, looking up from his drawing board, "I was lost before you came into my life, when I think of what I've missed all these years."
"I'm glad you waited," Bonnie murmured, her smile radiant. "So am I."
"But why? How come? After all, darling, you're so special. Surely there were other women. Why haven't you settled down before now?"
"It's hard to say. A mixture of lots of things I guess. I was uncertain. Besides, I was busy trying to break into the racket."
"At any rate, I never had much success with women, until you, I couldn't find a total happiness."
"There have been others though, haven't there?"
"A few. But nothing serious. One-night-stands mostly. After all, a man has certain pressures working on him all the time. Every once in a while ... a little bit."
"I know," Bonnie interrupted. "You don't have to justify yourself to me." Suddenly Bonnie chided herself. You silly jerk! She was actually jealous of those unknown women.
"An then," Scott continued his catalogue of self disparagement, "I'm not exactly the most handsome cuss in the world. In fact you might say I'm damned homely..."
Swiftly Bonnie rose, ran to him, sat on his lap. "Scott" She scolded. "Don't you dare. To me you're beautiful." the most beautiful man in the whole world ... "
"Men are handsome," he corrected. "Women are
"I don't care. To me you're beautiful." She kissed him playfully. "Beautiful, beautiful ... "
"Hey, watch it, you'll get all ... "
"I don't care. Tell me, Scott. Again. Tell me you love me."
Gravely he brought her lips to his. "I love you," he said softly. Then their mouths closed on each other.
Now Bonnie huddled in his arms, slow tremors of desire scutting along her limbs. She was going to want him soon. "But you didn't love, I mean at first."
"I did, but I didn't realize it. I thought it was something else."
"Oh, Scott!"
"No kidding. When you first walked into the shop that day, looking so lost, but beautiful I had the most insane urge to go to you, to take you in my arms. I wanted to protect you."
"Don't be facetious, Scott, it doesn't become you."
"And then when you so definitely indoctrinated me in the care and feeding of young, lovely, brunette type girls, lost, sad-eyed..."
"Scott, you're poking fun at me."
He drew her close. "No, I'm not, honey. I'm trying to keep from getting all mushy inside. So I don't start in again on how much your love means to me ... How much I really love you. How empty my life would be if..."
She sealed his lips with a kiss. "Stop, darling."
"Would you take me seriously if I told you I've just this minute developed a monstrous urge for your body? That I'd love to take you someplace and royally blitz you till you passed out. How about it?"
"I might," she teased allowing his hand to creep beneath her blouse to rile the nipples of her breasts. Suddenly his touch became hurting and desirous.
"Wow, baby," he sighed huskily. "All of a sudden I want you so bad I could bust inside."
Delightedly she savored the answering need that burgeoned within her own loins. "Yes, darling," she told him, "I want you the same way." She drove her body to him hungrily. "Take me. I'm all yours..."
Lifting her he rose from the chair, his hands slid beneath her skirt, stroked her nyloned legs as he carried her to the bedroom for their loving.
"Fireworks," Bonnie sighed thickly afterward, lying naked in the dim bedroom, allowing Scott to have her breasts with his tongue.
"Think of what you've got to look forward to." His hands slid haltingly on her belly. "Let's practice. So we'll be ready." He rose over her again.
Bonnie was more than willing. When they finished that time, she wasn't quite sure whether she'd last until the Fourth of July like he said.
A week or so went by when it seemed they had known each other all their lives; Bonnie felt more like a married woman with Scott than she had ever felt with Barney. She could not deceive him any further. She was not pure; he must know it.
She told him about everything from the beginning to the end.
At first Scott had been incredulous. But finally his face had softened, his eyes had turned compassionate. "Bonnie, Bonnie," he soothed. "You poor kid, you him but after his kindness and our fantastic revelation of love last night I am ashamed today to face him; what shall I do.
I came home from Scott's studio last night in a delicious condition and since my luck held out, I was free of Barney for the night; I proceeded to go to bed as soon as I got home. I was so deliriously happy over Scott's criticism of my artwork that I overlooked the door key, I forgot it in the lock when I came in.
Sleepily though I was I slowly took off my clothes and lit a cigarette. I was delirious I tell you. I smoked, and reclined nude on the chaise chair. Then I sensed a breeze across me and before I could react so as to get up and shut the nearest window, the front door burst open and I naturally was startled but I thought it was Barney. In that one moment I got into the trouble which I'll describe now.
It wasn't Barney who roared in. It was that spineless creature from the orgy on the boat, Sid Astors.
He pushed me back on the chair as I tried to get up for my clothes, and he warned me to listen before I said or did anything. He still thought it was free love night and he almost had me fooled that it was not for free loving that he came to our place for this visit. I, of course, was in no mood to even have him near me let alone even talk to him of anything that spanked of our further intimacies. He pretended to be talking of the future for us, but, I remember he said, "I want you to be nice to me Bonnie do you hear. You can't be up and mighty with me not after last time eh! ! We really had a ball that night and I'm back to see about more of the same." He disgusted me so I said sharply, "no! please leave. Come back after breakfast, Barney should be back by then please leave now."
He would not let me up out of the reclining chair and my body under his made me shudder. He ran his hand up my leg and then I hit him. He became angry and acted like a bull in the tirade of abuse he heaved at me. Then the truth came out. He, this stinking vulgarian, had spotted and had been watching the affair between Scott and myself. I was so shocked I hadn't noticed his hands on my stomach. He squeezed me and I came back to my senses. I shoved him away.
"Don t ever shove me again you witch," he blunted out. How'd you like having Barney know where to get hold of your lover boy for a little visit."
"Oh no, you wouldn't, I said.
"I won't if you come across. You'll have all three of us to keep you happy."
"How about that night in the car?" Do you remember, did I give you all I could?"
"Was only a shot, now it's time for the whole bottle, it whetted my appetite for more."
"If I go into the bedroom with you? Will that end it." No squealing after."
"Who knows, with just one good bang ... a real wildy."
She realized she was trapped, what Barney would do to Scott made her body shudder. For Scott's sake I must, she thought. She nodded yes to Astors.
"That's it Bonnie, I want a good bang remember?
Let's pour a couple of drinks first."
Her limbs turned dead. How far? How far? "Do I have to?"
"A blast of whisky on the rocks."
And while Bonnie went to the cupboard for glasses, Sid hurried around the house pulling down the shades. What will Scott think?
Straight whisky on an empty stomach. The alcohol helped blot out the degradation of the lust session to come in a moment.
She was quite dizzy. "Down the hatch" she finally said out loud, the dirty drink had done it's work. She could feel his squeezing, hands on her breasts. Those hands squeezing between her legs. She recalled where and what was happening, she surrendered herself to his sadism.
In her drowsiness the fingers groped at her legs, rubbed the tops of her stockings. Astors lowered his face to her wet lips. An intense repulsion set in but she opened her mouth for his tongue was probing and then she giggled drunkenly.
Even though Bonnie fought it, she felt the hot desire begin to form, until she wanted to scream.
She thought I don't want to, Scott, I can't help it, he's doing those things to me.
"Now, please," she said let's go'n the bedroom."
Bonnie found herself being wrestled to her feet. Strange ... what is this? she said.
"First we have a little floor show. He stood beside her, steadied her. She felt the hard edge of a glass clink.
"To sort of get us in the mood."
"No..." she protested. "Don't, no more of that just take me in the bedroom, please . . .take me in."
Before she realized what had happened. Sid had slapped her, "Strip, damn you bitch," he snarled at her.
The whisky made it harder to stand, Bonnie moved to comply with his wishes.
"Wha ... ? " she questioned, looking for Sid. Put a little wiggle into it. Spice it up."
She heard the guttural man tell her "what a pair of boobs you got, baby. Wait'll I get a face full of those, they won't be the same ever again."
"Come here Bonnie let me at those, put some zip into it ... give it some more wiggle ... I'll take you like that ... "
She jerked, she saw his body suddenly appear and lower himself on her. Despite herself she found the poor mixed-up kid. Forget it. Don't think about it ever again. I love you. I want to marry you. Somehow we'll find a way out of this terrible mess, I will not hold it all against you Bonnie."
Bonnie had clung to him, sobbing, her body shaking, in his strong, comforting arms. The choking love she felt for him at that moment was almost too much to hope for. That he'd forgive-that after her degradation he'd still want her. It just cannot be true.
The lovemaking that afternoon was earth-shaking.
Finally they gave their simultaneous deliverance, they were drained of all but love.
She posed in the nude for him while he did quick sketches of her.-Her love worshipped her ... he thought her "the most beautiful woman in the world."
She now had everything she'd ever wanted.
There was more later to satisfy her. There was her own painting. One afternoon she was bored, at odds with life. Scott suggested that she try her hand at it. There was a battered portable on the worktable. Recalling her self-admitted fascination for the written word, he encouraged her. She did get the basic idea from Scott.
In the following afternoons, while Scott applied himself to an ordered and deadlined work load for the TV producer she had begun to paint. It had come hard, indecision and uncertainty plagued her but Scott was always behind her.
"Painting's not so easy, I always thought artists had a ball at work."
"That's what everybody thinks. Just plank yourself down and the forms flow. No sir, I tried it, but when I found I could think for TV better than write I chucked it because it takes special talent."
Bonnie had determination but by the time a week had gone by she was so angry at her small output that she suddenly got so stormed up that Scott had to stop everything, he was doing to comfort her moment of despair.
He gave her a few pecks on the nose and asked her to let him judge the work for himself. He sat down in the role now of a reviewer or critic. He gazed and seemed enthralled from the first stroke of paint on. Bonnie kept an eye on him and she winced as she kept thinking of the attack he was going to be making because of her inadequate work. She turned and faced the mirror to try to hide what she felt in its surface. Oh if she could only disappear right now she thought. Then Scott in a blubbering display of know how raised himself out of the chair. He lifted her right off by the waist and as he looked up into her eyes he exclaimed;
"Wow that's painting Bonnie," the stuff in your work is great. Take it easier on yourself don't let it. bowl you over. It will take hold of you all at once and then the paints and you will become part of each other. You'll be flying through it soon. Remember honey, you've been taught by life to take the downgrade. That's not necessary for you anymore. You're too talented for that. I'll get hot on the phone and maybe we can get a sale going for you. I know a gallery owner uptown."
Bonnie started to cry and she came up to his side and bawled like a kid. He chuckled at her saying, "oh come on little girl none of those puffy eyes."
She mumbled her appreciation of his words and in her rekindling loving moments she hugged him fiercely and cried some more. Before the both knew what had happened they were transported into a hot passionate session in the locals of his layout table.
They never did make it to the bedroom. It was ever so delicious in Bonnie's mind. Again it was like never before. She continued to cry arid she rode home her happiness. They were outlined in their emotions of satisfaction as if painted by a landscape artist. Even Scott could hardly catch his breath. Bonnie out did herself that night in a straight forward love of desire for love's sake.
Dear Diary, Date_______
There were times dear diary when Scott and I would have long discussions about Barney. We were desperate in our desire to get away from him. I had the terrible knowledge that Barney would take my life and smash it once more if I didn't continue to stay on this beautiful road of recovery with Scott's help.
My husband seemed to sense a difference in me because I did not go out with him on those brawls every few evenings. He called me a do-gooder and a nut for it but my love for Scott gave me courage to make my wishes felt. I stayed home and of course, away from Barney as much as possible. My Scott was always first on my mind when these terrible moments with Barney came up.
So each time Bonnie was forced to submit to Barney, she was driven to loathing. He was capable to anything, she put him off whenever she could, but could not deny him all the time. His heavy body bore down upon her. At times she wished to hit the bottle again. When thoughts of drinking came she wished for Scott ... she wished to have him ... drive away the ugliness of Barney for he had become evil to her.
Then one day Bonnie realized that-Barney was not so aggressive with his sex-purge of her body. He stayed out night repeatedly.
Bonnie took it as an omen of what Scott had predicted. That Barney would maybe run off with a slut. This dream became full-fledged in her mind, burned with a bright flame.
I am lost again. I have been so happy for the last eternity of love I've spent with Scott, and now this ... It may be only a short time that I am in love with sensation delightful. There was something wrong, something depraved about this. But she could not remember what it was. I'm gonna, like this, she thought. She became aroused now and met his advances.
Again, Bonnie, an inner voice goaded. Try for two..."Oh let me get the charge again."
The man emitted loud sounds. His words were from a hell in him. "Hot doll baby, we ain't through with each other."
Bonnie strained and screamed as if to answer him. She was weirdly enjoying it. Slut ... she whispered you're enjoying a pigs barnyard loving. You're a whore Bonnie, she moaned those last words and she thrust her conscience aside until this ravish of her body was finished.
The backslide her body and its emotions had taken nearly were to destroy Bonnie. There she lay on the floor, completely devoid of human aspects. She snored the sleep of pigs. Her snores were vulgar and it was her personal conflicts that made her frenzied sleep suddenly awaken her with a shuddering cry. Upright on the edge of a sofa now her eyes terrified and lost looked for an answer. "It wasn't, it was only a bad dream, I had a bad dream, it had to be a . .
Then a pain of physical excruciation hit her, my head she cried oh! ! My poor head! Bonnie collapsed the pain writhing her. She lay until the weakness subsided. She was an empty heap.
The facts were such, Sid Astors crashed into her life like an animal and he had forced her to sack up again. That wasn't what bothered Bonnie, hadn't she ended up abandoning herself to the act, hadn't she. hadn't she enjoyed the slob completely every wanton thing he did! !
Why did she. How, could she have become so depraved?-
Her physical discomfort in its booze flipped. She fled to the bathroom on squeezy legs. When she emerged she was a sight, slowly she went to the other room, repulsed by the pagan look of the room. Her clothes were scattered everywhere, a lamp was overturned, while doing her drunker burlesque routine she had broken a lamp. Glancing up her naked body, red-streaked, was reflected in the mirror, she still wore a garter belt, stockings and pumps as the proof of the fast lust of her lover.
The sight sickened her and drew rage from her gut. On the couch now she purposely raked herself with her sharp nails, in a perverse triumph of self pity. Then she tore off the stockings and shoe and cried in her nude stupor. She rose, went to the kitchen, and slumped over the table. A moment later shame forced Bonnie into a pit of tears for now she focused on Scott. Forgive me, forgive Bonnie. Her own terrible self-pity was killing her.
Though tears filled her eyes, she saw the glass of whisky only inches away. Desperately she took the glass. Emptied she rose, went for the bottle that she had put away.
Bonnie was ready for that afternoon when Barney Selden returned from work, he found his wife in the kitchen. The apartment was clean, Bonnie was dressed up all evidence of the orgy gone. His wife was very drunk and that's all he knew;
Later she willingly accompanied him on his sex and drinking rounds again. She drank like a fish even promised him a bedroom saturnalia. "Goddam, this is just like old times. Just like old times with my Bonnie."
It certainly had become that ... just that like the miserable good old times.
Bonnie had a lot of miserable memories of the weeks to come. She knew that if it hadn't been for Scott, his strong personality, if it hadn't been for those moments of peace of respectful and beautiful love, she never would have ben able to exist. She realized Scott had without a doubt saved her drunken skin.
At least for four sessions during that time, Sid Astors had used his ugly blackmail. But to Bonnie's credit, there was no repetition of the orgy as in their first encounter. He used her body, but could not force her to drink, he could not achieve passion from Bonnie. There was a standstill and it was coming to a head. Astors did not bargain for the compromise.
"I've got you pegged so you might as well come across, you see I still get hopped up every time I think about our last session."
"You want me sober, then stay, it not. get the hell out of here."
"Shooting your mouth oil Bonnie you better be careful. Don't think I'm kidding about that Scott fellow of yours. You think I'm not going to tell Barney you're sleeping in two beds."
"Sid, you forget that I'm giving in to you to.' because of Scott."
Sid became annoyed and his eyes demanded her next answer.
"You can't make me enjoy it." Here I am so take it. like a captive.
"You think I'm kidding, You put out Bonnie my way or I'll go to Barney now."
"You forget your in this too, Barney knew of the things you forced me to do last time. Do you understand the setup. Barney will get you for molesting me."
"You little bitch, Sid said, you wouldn't do it."
"I wouldn't since Scott comes first and if you keep pushing me, I'll call your bluff.". . . "If that isn't enough for you then go pay some slut to give out your way."
If Sid's role in this bit came out, it would be fatal, all this while his body had worked at Bonnie, who been motionless and unfeeling her sense of degradation was wrong, but the thought of Scott saved her.
She lay still for Sid, she reasoned for my beloved Scott.
Finally Astors body stiffened, his groans had repulsed Bonnie so much that she started to react convulsively as if to vomit. He became so unnerved that he spit out at her.
"If I didn't hate that crummy wife of mine ... "'Viciously he withdrew, he went into the dressing room and dressed. His words carried back to her, "No damn good bitch, can't put out for sure..."
Bonnie gritted her teeth in a gesture of victory. Scott was her life and she realized it. When Scott was gone Bonnie felt she would be dead. Because of Scott she was able to put Barney off, to limit him her body as his selfish outlet. Keep off the drinking.
So, because of Scott anything connected with the former sick desires now were eased and acceptable as love for him. Scott was endowed with so much feeling for Bonnie that he sensed the changes in her manner. He put two and two together. He tried to question her..."But Scott darling," she alibied and was in fear that he might actually discover the sordid facts of her blackmail by Astors. She blamed her new attitude on Barney. She said he was very suspicious lately. "On certain days I think it's best that I stay at home. It will keep the nosey neighbors from talking."
Scott sensed more than that behind her story. "Then why such a miserable different-Bonnie when you meet me after."
"You're getting tired of me? Letting me down in easy stages are you Bonnie?
Her heart nearly broke as she said to herself. If only you could know the truth ... She held him even more tightly. "Never say that again, never. You're my whole life Scott, you should know that I'll never be able to leave you."
For now Scott was satisfied but worried nevertheless.
Bonnie knew that her only hope of salvation was to have Scott near her and for both to spend their life as one. There was nothing else to save her but the attention from Scott.
Dear Diary, Date_______
The days were filled with misery, thereafter for Bonnie. How could she possibly forget the beast that Sid Astors now had become. She had to give in to him to save Scott. Within the next few weeks she grew nervous and only her visits to Scott's apartment made her find some peace in her existence.
Ever so slowly leaning more and more heavily upon Scott's strength, she came to love him. more. Bonnie's every thought was spent on him.
Bonnie seemed to regain more and more of her balance again. Her love of Scott was giving her the moral pillar to help keep her self respect. She came to bear the shame of Sid Astors and Barney's vile sins as her due for the time being.
Times spent at Scott's apartment was by now Bonnie's routine. She indulged herself by merely sitting and watching him at work. Now they withheld themselves from love, the better to keep alive remembrances of their passions while apart. At times it did not work as such and their love took them early in the evenings.
Somehow Bonnie was able to force herself to the easel, painting slowly until her creative force came alive. Then she could not work fast enough. And though these instances were few and far between, she had, by now, completed the canvases one of which was already at the gallery Scott had mentioned.
From all outward appearances Bonnie had overcome the past, she had regained her stability, their love brought peace of mind again.
But it was only a few days later on an afternoon as she, Bonnie was alone at home. Her secure life crashed in about her head almost destroying her. She had answered the knock at her door thinking it was Sid. Then suddenly her dread multiplied. It was not Sid, that instead it was his wife Adele.
What was it all about? Bonnie thought, why was she here? Fear paralyzed her, had Adele found out about the orgies.
Finally the smiles faded and Adele spoke. "Aren't you going to ask me in Honey?"
"Of course. Come in, Adele I'm sorry, I didn't expect y ... "
"Had to ask around all over die place. I knew you lived here. How've you been, honey?"
"Oh, fine Adele." Was it a trick? Trying to catch her ofiguard? "Come in here, into the living room". . .
"Quite nice," Adele replied, after a glance about the house. "Real nice place you have." Both had an embarrassed pause for a while then.
"Long time no see honey," Adele said, the smell of her breath, the short changed words indicating she'd been drinking. Her look was over-familiar. "Not since that night in the boat," she laughed suggestively as Bonnie reddened in disgust.
"Yes ... It has been awhile." Adele was the last person on earth Bonnie wanted to discuss that drunken night with. After all, it had been her husband she'd gone into the back with, it was her husband who was now blackmailing her.
Adele giggled, "is this any way to treat an old pal? You don't even look like you're glad to see me, you could offer me a drink..."
"Sure thing, Adele, I think there's some whisky around. How would you like it on the rocks?"
"Some ice" Adele smiled. "Nothing particular with little old Adele."
Bonnie debated about having a drink. But for appearances' sake, took a glass-full. It would make Adele's visit less boring.
Three drinks later, Bonnie felt the effects of the alcohol take hold. She had no breakfast, only a light lunch. She'd best cut it out she thought. But she did feel good, she conceded, savoring the wooliness of her thoughts. Not quite so good as Adele, who was well on her way now but good nevertheless. Adele shoidd be going soon. Maybe there'd be time for a nap before Barney arrived home. To counteract the alcohol maybe she...
Bonnie could not concentrate..."Never was too keen on Sid in the first place ... " Adele was saying. Any man for that matter, I got special tastes, I guess."
Bonnie was startled and puzzled when she sat back on the couch to find Adele's arm come around her. Yet she didn't think much of it. Women are often inclined to get overly affectionate with other women. Just too much to drink that was all Adele was ... just one of those women.
"In fact, I don't care much for men at all. Only when I'm real drunk. Then I can take em or leave 'em. like I said, I'm different gotta have a little difference you know."
From somewhere beneath the surface of her subconscious Bonnie felt an eeriness grow. Almost as if she knew what was about to happen. A sense of evil curiosity stilled her. It would be diversion.
Abruptly Adele's arm tightened on her shoulder, and Bonnie felt herself being drawn toward Adele. "Tell the truth, Bonnie" Adele said, "You ever had it with another woman, its good."
Bonnie was too appalled to answer. She stiffened.
"Don't be shocked, baby. I won't hurt you. I'm just asking..."
No..." Bonnie breathed drunkardly, "I haven't..." and I don't intend to..."
"Baby ... " Adele breathed "I didn't mean to offend you. I told you something dinda' personal about myself. Couldn't help but ask you..." She tried to draw Bonnie's face to her own. "You'd like to try it wouldn't you?"
Bonnie struggled to pull away. She wasn't trying to pull away too hard. Again the words came to her: Some new release: String the hot-fingered little queer.
"Please Bonnie," Adele muttered. "I'll take care of it all, you don't have to do a thing, just let me take care of you." Adele struggled for Bonnie's lips to kiss her again "Oh, please Bonnie, I'm burning up for you, Bonnie baby, you're so pretty and I love you, 'Bonnie, let me?".
Then suddenly Bonnie felt something go crazy-inside her. She was seized by the novelty. A single push was all it would take and she would step over into indecency, submit to Adele's hands, those lips that were hungering.
Immediately Adele administered the push.
"Come here Bonnie she panted jostling Bonnie's small body in her arms, "you know you want to try it. Please baby. It's been so long since I've had any ... . " Her voice turned soft, quileness on her lips, closer, closer. "Pretty Bonnie. Pretty, pretty sexy Bonnie, burning Bonnie. Bonnie closed her eyes, allowed her body to go limp. She was empty, powerless to resist then a terrible longing filled her, made her legs ache with pain, Adele's lips were tender, seeking careful. Used to men Bonnie was speared by a thrill. Adele was soft, so lush, and beyond. Not commanding as a man's lips. Her lips begged for love, for understanding and then they both stopped for a breath.
Then Bonnie expelled the long breath, she surrendered her resistance, falling into Adele's grateful embrace, her lips parted slightly in breathless acceptance of Adele's tongue which darted deftly into her mouth, hot and hard, touching and probing. Every secret, soft place was discovered, caressed. Bonnie was helpless to control herself. She was only a tool of desire, to cooperate. Her tongue wound itself.
She found herself gripped by desperate loss as Adele withdrew then her voice came thickly, "Oh, Bonnie darling. I've wanted to do that for so long. Ever since I first set eyes on you. When I watched you that night with my husband, I almost went crazy. I wanted it to be me back there with von to have you myself."
Her lips closed on Bonnie's again, the questing tongue on hers Bonnie answered her. thrilling anew as Adele slowly delicately unbuttoned her blouse. Then with slow deliberate touch the hand moved onto her breasts. Hurry. Bonnie screeched to herself. Hurry, Oh take them and take them good.
Adele took her time. While her lips and tongue bedeviled Bonnie's senses, her hands roamed and excited her body. Adele was speaking: "They're so lovely, darling. So firm and so beautifully erect "I'm gonna' love kissing them for you."
"Please," Bonnie rasped, out of her head now..
"Do it now take them, kiss them anything". She helped to open her brassiere.
But Adele held her motionless. "Not yet, Bonnie. Not just yet. We've got time." She buried her soft lips in Bonnie's throat and Bonnie was reminded of her mother's tenderness. Mother, mother, and all of a sudden she wanted this love with all her being.
"Now you want me, honey?" Adele purred, her sharp teeth nipping the flesh of Bonnie's neck, "I knew you would. Men don't know anything about love. It takes a woman to really love another woman like I'm gonna love you."
"Please, I can't wait. Do what you're going to do for me now Adele".
"Sweet, sweet honey," Adele groaned. "Such sweet breasts, adorable melons ... . " Her fingertips flitted across the nipples, twisted them through the nylon of her brassiere till it hurt.
Then a wrenching pang of strength possessed Adele. Seconds later Bonnie found herself being picked up, led toward the bedroom. "Adele" she sighed. "I can hardly wait ... I want you too."
"I know darling, I'm almost boiling over too."
When they reached the bedroom Bonnie moved and tore off her blouse. "No!" Adele said. "Let me, I want to take care of you all the way to the end."
With hands, pressing Bonnie to her often, Adele remove the blouse, then embraced Bonnie hotly. Her fingers at the same time undid the clasps at the back of her brassiere. When her arms came away the bra slipped off. Adele sat on the edge of the bed. Bonnie in her arms, lowering her, so her back was arched so her breasts were stretched. An ecstatic smile on her lips, she leaned to Bonnie's breasts kissed them with exquisite licking touches. And finally Bonnie felt the not breath close on them. And the penetrating warmth and of Adele's mouth. The evil tongue and the moist mouthy clasping driving both women.
Bonnie was in ecstatic desire. She wanted to have this feeling last forever.
She came out of her trance to find Adele lowering her on the bed. Now she tore at the zipper of her pants. "Mama'll take care of you little one," Adele peeled down the slacks, her eyes continually ogling Bonnie's stomach.
Then she was tugging at Bonnie's shoes and socks, her hands like fire along Bonnie's legs and thighs. Bonnie felt her body hot and in desire, as over her Adele began to work her panties off. Bonnie arched her body to help. Now Bonnie was completely naked, her body quaking with passion. Immediately Adele began to rub and clutch Bonnie's belly till she could wait no more. Then she tore her dress from Bonnie's body. Her slip and underwear followed. Then she pulled the shades and came to Bonnie on the bed.
She guided Bonnie's hands until they came to her own breasts. "Hold them baby. Pretty Bonnie hold them tight."
So for the first time in her life Bonnie found herself fondling a woman's breasts and enjoying the abnormal quirk. And the longer Adele's mouth worked at her own nipples the more she caressed the smooth, hot mounds in the palms.
When the points beneath her fingers became hard, Bonnie knew it was time. It would happen now, at any second.
Adele was uncontrollable. "I love you Bonnie. I want vim now like mad'.
"Yes ... Bonnie sighed I'm dying for it to. . .
"You don't hate me baby," Adele begged.
"I won't, please go on".
The torrid searching kisses continued. Then Adele's lips began to roam over Bonnie's body. To her throat, to her shoulders, down her breasts. Pausing there impatiently her teeth gnawing them delightfully and then Adele was kissing Bonnie's stomach.
"Oh;" she gasped as the pressure grew and the heat became intense. Finally Bonnie surrendered herself to Adele's sensations felt herself being swallowed with desire. The room now spun more and Adele's hand guided Bonnie's to her breasts. "Hold them, play with them, don't let go baby," she said.
The pain came upon her again and Bonnie gritted her teeth while she screamed. But at last she couldn't because deep inside her someone was exploding bombs.
"Oh!" Bonnie screamed in her shrillest tones. "Don't, stop! It hurts. Oh, it's terrible, your terrible Adele".
But Adele wouldn't stop. Her body pinned Bonnie's holding her motionless, until it happened like it had to at that rate of excitement.
As Bonnie started to cool off, she found herself half pulled over Adele, found Adele kissing her breasts again. She felt Adele's body move beside her. Adele was doing something to herself she groaned and stiffened beside Bonnie. Her teeth showed sadistic-pleasures.
Then minutes later Bonnie realized what she's done, and was swamped with a sickening for the degeneraty she'd so willingly helped in. The immoral animal lust made her want to die.
What have done to myself she shrieked, her cry sprang on the corridors of her brain with her eyes shut she shouted profanities, what are you doing you bitch? The great whore that's what you are Bonnie Belford Selden.
Just a vile creator of the streets that is what she estimated herself as now. Just equal to the dogs in the gutter that hungers at the lap of unfeeling shame. But at least they were not humans she kept saying to herself. "I am...."
"Lucky for humans," Bonnie kept thinking to herself, "That they can have loved returned to them. I've got to get myself together and go to see Scott. Only his pure love can absolve me". This. Bonnie really believed would happen today. In her attack of remorse, she desperately tried to lose herself in Scott, strong shining decency. Was there still time for her to regain her self respect?
Even as she opened Scott's door, flung herself into his waiting arms, she knew something was different in their lives this morning. Something that would change things for them ever after. And she broke from the warm, regenerating kiss, just before she huddled to his chest for the customary comfort ... .
His smile was over-eager, excitedly forming his face into a happy tell-tale effect. He held an envelope. ... Artists Inc. for Modern Day. Then she saw the letter in his hand.
" "What is...? " she gasped, her heart losing a heat. She reached for it in a daze ... .
"I'm sorry, I opened it. darling, I just felt it was it."
The letterhead, emblazoned with the bold heading Artists Inc. Impersonally the words burned themselves into her brain with sudden clarity and significance. The Modern Day are delighted with your painting "The Quest of the Snark, and wish to buy and reproduce it". We are prepared to pay $500.00 for this painting. She found it impossible to breathe, to think, for the roaring in her eyes. "To expedite this transaction we are enclosing our check for the above amount. Kindly sign the enclosed release ... for the termination of this sale".
"Scott," Bonnie shrieked. "It can't be! Scott darling, it's happened-can it be true". She went into his arms holding herself and her love against her man. That victorious moment was an emotion much needed. "I can't believe it darling."
"It's true, Bonnie". He took the letter. Here you missed the best part, here at the end." He' read: "We feel that your work shows exceptional promise and earnestly encourage and solicit further submissions from you".
He almost yelled with gaiety . "Don't you see what that means, Bonnie? Your not just a flash in the pan. They think you've got something. How about that?
I'm so proud of you, I could climb the walls.
Scott's words thrilled her as did the money. She turned to him, raised her eyes to his. "Oh, darling. If you're proud of me still after what I've done ... . That means more to me than all the money in the world".
"Not for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you," Scott had said many times.
"I love you Scott," her voice broke with emotion. "It's this ... is all your doing. I owe it all to you, to you ... . "
The check from "Artists Inc," which for Inspiration she was reluctant to cash, became a symbol of this new, grim resolve. She took check and letter from her purse time after time during the following days, finding reassurance again. But it was this check that was responsible for the happenings of the next day.
At home Bonnie realized that Barney was in serious trouble because the signs had been there for the past weeks. He had been even more rude and bulled her more than usual. He hardly bothered to-talk to her at all. He was constantly on edge, becoming more and more withdrawn, his features sullied. Also Bonnie knew that whatever the trouble was it was over a woman. She was a not the usual trash Barney usually shacked with. The lingering fragrance of expensive perfume clung to Barney's clothes after some of their brawls, told Bonnie this fact about her.
Some nights ago Barney hadn't bothered to come home at all. He'd appeared to change and have breakfast, offered no explanations his face displayed no guilt. Nor did Bonnie expect any excuse. Just so long as he didn't come pawing at her she had figured.
It was as she moved around the house in her robe that special morning at eight serving Barney's breakfast, that the brutal argument had ensued. That morning the remnants of their marriage were finally ashened and swept away.
She was bringing Barney's coffee when suddenly she froze in mid-stride, her eyes widening in disbelief. It was all she could do to keep from dropping the coffee pot on Barney.
A flood of questions, fearful dismay swamped Bonnie. How could she have been so naive? She should have known that sooner or later Barney would snoop through her belongings. Why hadn't she hidden it "better. Then, even more terrifying, the address in its heading to Scott's address? Give me that you cheat."
He held her away, playfully. He smirked cunningly, "You been holding out on me Bonnie, five hundred green bucks. Where did you get it? Getting paid for your labor now?"
Bonnie yelled, "Give it to me", it's mine, it's got nothing to do with you. Give it here and she reached.
"Not so fast, I asked you a question, I want to know since when you are painter?"
"Since a long time ago..." she said, fighting his grasp. It's none of your business, Barney".
"Oh, but it is. It just so happens I could use this money. An emergency, sort of has come up ... . "
"It isn't yours-give me that...."
He still pinned her arms. "Tell me about this painting? Where you been doing this painting little genius of mine?"
He had read her letter. "Right in our home she lied.
"Ain't that dandy? Brother, what a deal! A wife who paints pretty soon I won't have to go to. work at all. I can retire and live off you Bonnie Baby."
His tone changed to violent menace. He took a pen from his pocket, pushed it at Bonnie. "Sign".
"No," Bonnie stepped away quickly. "I won't, you'd only squander it on that woman you're shacking up with".
"Sign it, kid, Veronica's no concern of yours ... . "
"Veronica, is it? Good name, she must be awfully expensive stuff."
"Certain things about her are". Barney was obviously eager to her Bonnie now. "like the trouble she's in now. The quack who's gonna' work on her wants lots of cash. This five hundred'll help quiet the smear".
"No!" Bonnie remarked, the disgust choking her. None of my money's going for an abortion for that slut of yours ... . " The thought of the five hundred dollars her bright coin of hope for the future, being spent in such a way seemed somehow unholy. She wouldn't let it happen she swore.
A rage welled up with Barney. Slowly, he rose from his chair. "Don't talk about her like that Bonnie. At least she puts out for me that's more than I can say for you." Step by step Bonnie retreated until she found herself boxed into a corner. "No Barney," she screamed.
A lightning flash of hot, searing light hit her brain, a pain ricocheting back and forth, to her head from her jaw where Barney had struck her, to the back of her skull where it had been slammed against the wall. She heard herself screaming again, saw the first coining at her through the air. It seemed to move in slow motion. Again the white flash exploded and she was falling as he hit her again.
"I want that five hundred bucks-you little bitch", she heard her husband's voice coming from a terrible distance. Then she felt herself being pulled to her feet again. Don't, please her dazed brain pleaded, as the pain tore at her, he hit her again and again. It seemed Barney was getting revenge for a lifetime of frustration, an agonizing fear tore the breath from her. She was going to die ... Barney was going to kill her and then:
A jabbing pain tore through her chest, sharp, and she realized that Barney had broken her ribs. The pain was unendurable. She tried to scream in an attempt to vent her hurt upon the indifferent ears of the cold world. But Barney's hard, mean hand was clamped over her mouth, another was pulling her by the hair toward the table. It felt like the top of her scalp would tear off at any second.
For one brief moment of satisfaction Bonnie managed to dig her teeth into Barney. She knew a flash of satisfaction as they closed on the flesh of Barney's hand. She acted maniacally of course. "You filthy slut", Barney rasped, trying to tear loose his hand from this stabbing mountain of pain.
Then Bonnie felt her stomach cave in, the pain making everything go black. She heard herself backing and hissing choking for her breath. She fought to get air into her lungs. It felt like a white hot poker now. Specks of color whirled furiously before her eyes. For the second time Bonnie found herself falling-falling and praying an eternity for an instant.
When finally her head cleared she was able to focus her eyes again, she became cognizant of the stinging hot pain in her scalp where Barney twisted her hair, she knew she was seated at the table. "Sign that check", he was hacking the words at her.
The punishing hands relaxed, her vision cleared and in a fit of. utter hopelessness, she took the pen. "Bonnie Selden" she wrote shakily. Then beneath it like a confession of quiet she wrote.
Later Bonnie awoke at noon. Scot ... she thought immediately. Then the pain rampaged in her head again. She was on the verge of falling back on the sofa when a persistent knocking on the front door sharpened her senses. Oh not ... she groaned ... not now ... she wouldn't answer-it might be Sid Astors.
The knocking continued till it unnerved her so she could not ignore it. She staggered but went to the kitchen. If it was Sid she gritted, the knife in her grasp, told her story. It was all over now-the end.
No matter what happened or whatever consequences, Scott must face in her behalf, she would not go back to Sid. Let him tell Barney. She would not submit. Never again. '
"Hi, Bonnie", Sid smiled as she opened the door. In the gloom he could not see her clearly. "I thought I'd come over for a little rassle party." He opened the door "I ... he blanched as he lost his voice ... . Good gosh kid, what hit you Bonnie".
"Get out!" Bonnie rasped, poising the knife. "I'll kill you. Do you hear? Get out or I'll kill you Sid."
Seconds later Sid had recovered his shock. "Barney, huh? He found out on his own about your artist?'
"No ... it was something else".
"Well, hell, kid, we can still have a ball. Come on, no sense in going off the track. I'll take it easy on you. I've been thinking about you all morning. Put down that knife. Listen to reason.
"Now remember if he finds out; it'll be fifteen times worse" he moved toward Bonnie ... . " Cooperate Bonnie or little Sid will tell papa on you baby".
"No!" Bonnie gritted, her cry deviled. "Tell Barney, I don't care, I don't care anymore. Stay back Sid or I'll kill you, I swear I will...."
But still he advanced, his lust roused in him making him oblivious to the knife's threat. Desperately Bonnie lunged, the knife missing him by inches. He leaped back Tin warning you Bonnie unless you come across ... . "
"Get out, you maggoty scum!"
He swiftly retreated out the door wearing a fear-twisted face. "You had your chance Bonnie, now you're finished, do you hear?"
Then Bonnie was alone, the locked door gave her a false sense of protection for when you realized that the weakling Sid Astors was going to tell Barney; no door was protection.
She must leave here as to tell Scott what had happened, she must forewarn him against Barney. She struggled up, her chest was on fire inside as she tried to get dressed. She would call a cab' go to Scott.
Scott, help me please she would say-love me for having wanted to spare you but now understand."
As the doctor worked on Bonnie that night he became more and more shocked at the awful crime that this girl went through. Then as he came out of Scott's bedroom he said "I sure don't know what this is all about, but if you'll tell me who's responsible for that butchery in there, I'll do everything in my power to see that he's convicted. He must've been some he-man to beat a little kid like that...."
"Nothing doing, Doc," Scott said, behind a thin smile-he's all mine, I get first crack at him and then the law can have what's left".
"But you can't ... "
"Can't' I?" Scott curtly remarked as his right fist hit his other hand, a lust for revenge turning him hateful. He rapidly paced the room and the doctor spoke again. "I have to have some particulars. After all I have to make a report on this ... there ... are ethics."
Forget the report, Doc. Just leave your bill for me. It'll be taken care of immediately, but no report and I will get to him first."
"See here, Mr. Ballard I have a reputation to protect and I tell you...."
"Put my name down Doc."
"What?"
"I said put my name down on your damned report.
That'll give me time to get the guy."
The doctor shook his head. "All right," he snapped his medical bag shut. "No report but I wish I could be around to see it, good luck, call me when it happens;"
"That's Doe. Now how about Bonnie, the girl?"
Again the wry smile. "She's got two broken ribs and I've taped them. Have her avoid any sudden movements. She's under sedation now, she'll sleep soon. Tomorrow she should be all right again." He handed Scott a prescription. "Have these filled and follow the directions."
He stopped at the door, smiled and said, "Good luck, again. Kick out some teeth for me." The door closed.
"Why Bonnie?" Scott asked as he sat beside her on the bed, his anger and hate almost overwhelmed him as he looked over the cuts, and dark bruises on her face. "Tell me what happened please honey".
She smiled weakly through glazed wide hurting eyes. Bonnie now felt warm, snug, so secure. A drowsiness slowly crept over her. "I love you Scott," she said softly.
"Did Barney do this, why?"
"He took my money Scott. I didn't want to give it to him. He heat me up." The pain came again as she felt the terrible self-pity come over her anew, as she wanted to tell Scott about it. He would make everything all right.
Moments later she felt strange inside as if she was drunk. Yet she hadn't been drinking. "And afterward Sid came....." She stopped, she didn't want to tell Scott about that. Ho would hate her for sure.
"Sid, who's Sid? Bonnie, please. Stay awake tell me. Suddenly Bonnie wanted to tell Scott everything. It had been so long since she'd been able to trust anyone. And slowly detail by sordid detail the Astors story unfolded. She told him how Sid had come to the house, how he knew about Scott, how he threatened to tell her husband, unless ... and then, more drowsily now, she related the terrible aftermath of Sid's visit, withholding no details.
From this point on in the sex diary the sordid facts that were revealed were finally synthesized. The readers of the diary now know that Scott was from here on the sole protector and the ethical future of Bonnie Belford Seidell. The diary stated that OUT lovers had to now find a way to change her name to Bonnie Ballard, Mrs. Scott Ballard.
It just had to be, they both knew it. And now Barney had just about cooked his own goose by attacking his wife so unscrupulously. Scott kept Bonnie at his studio for the simple reason that since he knew the whole story now, he expected Barney to come alter Bonnie and himself. Sid Astors would see to it as a matter-of-fact. Bonnie had been crying for a while because she envisioned Scott loosing a battle to Barney who towered half a loot over Scott. To her amazement Scott had calmly related the fact that he was an ex-paratrooper and a judo expert besides. He had no intention to backing out of the fight with Barney. Actually now it was welcomed.
The diary speaks of Scott staying awake that night as she fell asleep under the sedation of the doctor's prescription. Scott just waited on into the night and finally the stairs outside his door gave tell-tale audible evidence of the miserable weight they were carrying to the doorstep!
Barney crashed into the door only to find it open. ' The fight that ensued still rings in the village square. All they say about bullies is true and Barney just added more fuel to the fire that night. Scott had a fist to space after every punch and he made sure the lecherous Barney was the receiver of each spare and two in between. After Barney's nose had been well mashed Scott threw him out into the street and as a sidecap he had caught Sid Astors waiting for Barney. The diary recalls that Scott demolished this other piece of trash in the alley. The two characters must have been something to see.
Those events drew that chapter in Bonnie's life to a beautiful close.
Bonnie and Scott were married after a wild divorce action between Bonnie and Barney. All the trash had been spewn at the courtroom scene and the diary tells of Barney's mix-up with his Veronica, She turned out to be a politician's mean-driving, wife. Her husband had caught Barney in bed with Veronica and besides Veronica became pregnant. It was easy in court to prove cruelty as a divorce possibility and then this extra proof of Barney's behavioral maladjustments made it a certainty for Bonnie's legal contentions to win out.
At last Bonnie had been freed completely from Barney Seldom Now Mrs. Scott Ballard existed. She went on to adjust beautifully to a life of normalcy. She drank in moderation, and her sick desires for lustful orgies with other men had been cleansed from her by love pure love and self respect. Scott helped her to sell more paintings and then one day nine months ago they celebrated their love so well and so meaningfully that they passionately overdid it and here we are at the beginning of the story again. The "Sin Diary" had become the "Love Diary" for taken a look see down that hospital corridor Scott is giving out cigars marked his and hers just to make sure he's covered. Bonnie did the honors, and at time they both giggle at the naive manner in which Bonnie accepted her role as mother to Scott's baby.
The warmth of the sane marriage to Scott caused her to desire a child. So that when she sold her fourth painting nine months ago, they celebrated so passionately that evening ended in a gathering of all their dignity from which came the kiss, that led to the question; that led to the nine months; of visible love. All is well at the Ballards now. Every now and then Scott is pooped at being a papa yet he knows that his life not only means something to himself now, but that its essence spilled over onto Bonnie when he fell in love with her. He saved her life and she and he now gave life to their own beautiful offspring. What more can a person attain after picking themselves out of the gutter and having the stamina to face life's problems? They did, together in true love.
