ABIGAIL AND LA RUE VANDECOVERING: WERE THEY ONE AND THE SAME?
SCHIZOPHRENIA: A psychotic disorder characterized by loss of contact with environment, disintegration of personality, or acquisition of a multiple personality.
The young are always the most impressionable, especially when their confrontations are with sex. It is during youth that ideas are planted, behavioral patterns are styled and shaped, frustrations bloom and anxieties sprout. It is during this Tender Age, in this garden of youthful flowers, that bad seeds are cultivated. These bad seeds, unlike good ones, are misshaped; stunted and made weak by a society of nonchalant moral gardeners.
Abigail Vandecovering was such a seed. She was nourished in the garden of humanity. But when she blossomed into womanhood, she grew debased, defiled, and debauched by her own planter, her father.
To compensate for her mental turmoil, she withdrew from her peers. She divided her environment and total disintegration of her personality took place in the privacy of her lonely art studio.
The need for adjustment nurtured her dual growth-her multiple personality. One of her beings was like a delicate lily-virtuous, chaste, and virgin. The other was like a voluptuous jasmine-wanton, bestial, and sexually obsessed.
Abigail Vandecovering became a hybrid. Society could no longer hoe the weeds; instead, the weeds of life clung zealously to Abigail. Could anyone or any therapy have prevented her psychological mutation? Could social forces thwart the vile deflowering of her human being?
No! Not within the society we know today. Society could only observe the grafting of a jasmine to the virgin stalk of a lily plant. It could only gawk as the hybrid grew until it became a dichotomy in the meadow of mankind.
No! Society, in its hypocritieal cocoon of morality could not help this girl. She was a mirror of today's neurotic pulse, a pulse which throbs with such vileness that it threatens to wilt all virtuous flowers.
But there is hope. That hope is in the realignment of morality. Making morality acceptable, honest, conceivable. Only through a re-evaluation of our society and its morals can we hope to draw back the lonely, sad, alienated persons such as Abigail who suffers from a loss of identity.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Abigail Vandecovering stood by the window of her studio and looked down at the choppy swells of the Pacific Ocean.
She walked over to her easel and studied her painting. She took her palette spatula and mixed a small touch of marine blue into the zinc white until the paint turned a sky-blue.
Her brush touched the paint and then moved to the canvas on the easel in front of her. She shook her head. No! It was all wrong. She felt like throwing the brush across the room and screaming-but she was Abigail Vandecovering, a refined young lady. She had been trying to repaint a section of sky.
She was tired, and the light didn't seem right. She had worked too long, she thought, too long.
She glanced out the window and saw a car park at the headland. Going to the window she watched intently. Two men left the car, glanced at her house and began the quarter of a mile hike across the tide washed strand to her home Casa Playa.
Abigail studied them a moment, wondering what they wanted. If they were salesmen, Lupe would get rid of them. If they were important, Lupe would call.
She removed her cotton smock and hung it on the arm of the easel. She was an attractive girl of twenty-four years, a little on the tall side with short straight hair that was brunette. Her face was oval, highlighted with a demure nose and conservative brows.
It was September and her studio was poorly heated. She wore a turtleneck sweater of soft blue mohair and dark stretch pants.
Washing the last of the oil paint from her fingers, she dried her hands. She walked back to the window and looked down at the two men walking through the soft sand.
Abigail put her smock back on and picked up her brushes. The men would come to see her, she was sure. She could get rid of them quicker if she seemed to be hard at work, painting.
She heard the door open and the soft voice of Lupe, her Mexican housekeeper talking to the men.
"Yes, Lupe, come in."
Lupe opened the door. She was short and heavy, her black hair chopped off at her shoulders. She held out a card.
"I thought it might be important, Miss Abigail," Lupe said with a heavy Spanish accent. Abigail focused on the business card.
Estrada Galleries-; San Francisco. Specialists in both realistic and modernistic paintings.
"Tell them I'm not interested, Lupe. I don't need another outlet for my work."
Abigail heard a noise at the door and glanced up. One of the men stood there smiling at her. He was about forty she guessed, and shorter than herself.
"On the other hand, Miss Vandecovering, you never know which galleria might be the one to place your paintings into prominence and make you famous." A younger, taller man followed him into the room.
"Excuse our manners, but we're on a rather tight schedule, and I promised myself I would see Abigail Vandecovering even if I missed my plane. I've admired your work for several years. It's a pleasure at last to meet you."
Abigail disliked the little man. He was a pompous, lying boor.
"I'm sorry, Estrada, I'm busy. A letter would have saved you a lot of wasted time and a long walk. I'll have to ask you to leave."
They did not. Abigail nodded slightly at Lupe and she shooed out of the room. The younger man walked behind Abigail, looking at the paintings.
"Not bad, if you like realism," he said.
"Gentlemen, if you ever hope to do any business with me, I suggest you leave quickly. I have a very long memory."
"You got something else up here we want too, lady." the younger man said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The painting. The one you been hiding so nobody knows you-got it. So you won't have to pay no taxes on it."
"The tax people don't consider my paintings old master. That's all I own."
"Stop the clowning, lady. We know you got a Charles Russell around here. We want it."
"Miss Vandecovering, Karl gets a bit crude at times, but what he says is correct. We know about your Charles Russell oil and we have come to unburden you of it." The short man interrupted.
"This is ridiculous! I don't have any such painting. I can't figure out why you think I do. Look for yourself."
Karl snorted, "Hell, lady, you know we couldn't find it by ourselves. You hid it good. We gonna have you tell us where you put it."
"You're mistaken, I have no Charles Russell."
Karl's arms strapped around her, pinning Abigail's arms to her sides. She started to scream, then controlled herself.
Abigail struggled for a moment, it was useless. She looked at Estrada.
"Mr. Estrada, your whole future in the art world is finished if you do this. As soon as you leave I'll call the police and hound you until I see you behind bars."
Estrada smiled and took off his top coat. He laid it on a chair and began looking into cupboards, and behind finished paintings.
"Abigail, be reasonable. We're stronger than you are. We don't expect you to keep it lying around in the open. But we can make you tell. And we can get very unpleasant about it. If we have to look for ourselves, there's the chance we might damage one of your paintings."
As he said it, Estrada kicked his foot through a finished painting on the floor.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Vandecovering," Estrada said. "I must be getting clumsy in my old age."
Tears spilled down Abigail's cheeks. It had been one of her best paintings. Karl's hand reached around and cupped her breast and began to massage it gently.
"Stop that!" she screamed. She twisted from side to side, but couldn't get away. His hand squeezed her breast again and again.
Estrada's foot poised in front of another painting. He turned to look at her.
"All right! I'll show you. Don't destroy any more of my paintings." She twisted against her captor. "Let me go, please. I can't get the painting for you this way."
Estrada nodded.
"Damn it, Ramon, I just got my hand on her tit."
"Let her go, Karl."
Abigail heard a door close below. She hoped it was Lupe going to get Dal. She moved away from Karl and watched Estrada. As he turned, Abigail dashed for the door.
"Get her," Estrada yelled. But Abigail had scurried out the door and down the stairs. She met Dal at the foot of the stairs.
Dal Henderson was her gardener, handyman, driver and protector. She thought. He was just over six feet tall, blond, with a football player's solid body. He watched her run past him with a puzzled look in his eves.
"Two men upstairs. I'll send La Rue to talk to them. She understands their type. Don't let them hurt you, Dal. La Rue will deal with them!"
Karl came charging down the stairs, but stopped suddenly when he saw Dal.
"Who the hell are you?" Karl asked.
"I'm Dal Henderson, who the hell are you?"
Estrada stood at the top of the stairs and seeing Dal confront Karl, he beckoned Dal to come on up.
"Well, I see you came to help us. Abigail said you'd find the painting we want to take to the gallery. It's up here somewhere. What was your name again?"
"Dal. Dal Henderson. Miss Abigail said Miss La Rue would be coming up to help." There were still puzzling looks in Dai's eyes as he moved up the stairs. He left no room to pass. Karl looked at him for a moment, then turned and climbed the steps.
"Dal, I'm Estrada of Estrada Galleries in San Francisco. We're hunting for a painting by the great Western artist Charles Russell. It's been lost for years, and we think Abigail may have it hidden."
"She didn't say nothing to me...."
"Of course not. We're supposed to look for it. The picture shows two cowboys trying to rope four wild stallions."
"Miss Abigail don't like nobody poking around up here," Dal said as they entered the studio.
"I'll take complete responsibility, Dal. After all, I've been dealing with fine paintings all my life."
Dal watched the two men as they searched the room. It seemed to him they knew where to look. They flicked through the framed paintings leaning against the wall and checked a dozen plain can vases. They had begun to look in the cabinets when the door opened, and a woman walked in.
Karl stared, his mouth open in amazement. Estrada smiled and took a step forward.
Dal pointed at the men.
"Miss La Rue, these are the men Miss Abigail said you would talk to."
La Rue stalked into the room. Her long, ash-blonde hair streamed over her shoulders and halfway to her waist. She wore a low-cut, scoop-neck blouse and a micro skirt. Under the skirt a pair of finely molded legs moved with sensuous grace. She held out her hand to Estrada.
"Enchanted," she said, long eyelashes lowering. "You must be Estrada. I love people with one word names." She turned toward the other man. "And you're the one with the big hands. I heard about you." She smiled.
Estrada still held her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it, then put his arm over hers and held it.
"My, my Miss La Rue! You certainly are a pleasant change from your sister. Yes, there's a family resemblance. But those green eyes, your beautiful blonde hair, and your figure ... well, as an artist, all I can say is I'd like to paint you in the nude."
La Rue smiled at him and took his arm off her shoulder.
"Business before pleasure, gentlemen. You're looking for the Charles Russell oil that my sister hid, I believe. I'll make you a deal. I'll help you find it instead of throwing you off the place like my sister told me to-if I get fifty percent. A Charles Russell should be worth forty grand. I want half."
CHAPTER TWO
Estrada walked slowly around La Rue. She tightened her stomach and straightened her shoulders, pushing her breasts tightly against the white blouse. He stopped in front of her.
"Before I make any bargains, I like to know more about my partner. What's your story? Why are you here?"
"None of your damned business!" La Rue shot back at him. "I'm sorry. No cause for me to say that. Why 'n hell shouldn't I tell you? A year ago I got kicked out of school at Berkeley, and that's damn easy to do. Been living here on and off since. I dance one in a while to get some bread, but working that's a drag."
Karl had come up behind her and smoothed the micro skirt down, letting his hand rest on the curve of her buttocks.
Without turning she shrugged the hand away.
"Karl, get your fuckin' hand off my ass or I'll kick your balls in! You want something, you come to me head on and ask like a man."
Estrada waved Karl back. He came up to her and ran his hand over her bare shoulder and down to the cleavage at the top of the loose blouse.
"And when we find the painting, you guarantee we can walk out of here with it and get 24 hours' head start before anyone says it's gone?"
"That's easy." She leaned toward him, letting the blouse billow out. His hand crept under it and rubbed the soft whiteness of her brassiere.
"Hell yes, Estrada, cause I'll be right along with you."
Estrada's hand pressed under her bra and pushed down over her breast.
"You get invited down there, Estrada?"
"Well, not in so many words."
She pulled his hand out of her blouse. "Business before the fun and games," she said and looked at Dal. "Dal, get back downstairs and be sure the shutters are closed. Looks like we got a blow coming."
When Dal left, La Rue closed the door and walked over to Karl.
"What's the matter, big stud? You sad cause I put you down?" She took his hand and put it over her breast. "Five will get you fifty you still got a hard-on."
I lor hand touched his bolt buckle and felt below it.
"My god! I bet the girls call you old horse cock! You must be at least a foot long." She pulled away. "Now you two guys keep your pricks cool until we find that painting. Then we'll celebrate with all sorts of fun and games."
Thcv began searching the room. At first it went slowly, as they checked each painting on the walls, and in the frames.
They looked through the mailing tubes which the canvas came in, unrolling them to be sure the painting had not been removed from the frame and rolled up inside.
An hour after they started, La Rue sat down on the daybed and shook her head.
"If it's here, that witchy sister of mine hid it so good we'll never find it."
Estrada sat down beside her and put his hand on her upper leg. "Perhaps we could persuade Abigail to tell us where it is?" His hand slid down the crest to her inner thigh and pushed against the tightness of her crotch.
"Estrada, we're going to find that damned painting first, remember?" She took his hand away. Estrada stood and unzipped his trousers and pulled out his hard penis.
"Baby, pretty pussy, look at my fuckin' cock! You gonna let a prick that good go to waste?"
She bent and kissed the purple tip and then stood and walked to the window.
"We've got just three hours to find that painting and get out of here before the tide comes in. You more interested in my pussy-or in forty thousand big American dollars?"
Estrada pushed it back inside his pants, swearing softly to himself. "Hell, let's just bring her up here and beat the information out of her. Why do you suppose I brought Karl along? He look like an art expert to you?"
"He's a foot-long expert, far as I'm concerned," La Rue said grinning. She walked to the door and back to the window. "Beating Abigail won't help, you'd beat her unconscious before she let out a squeak about the painting. We've got to persuade her some other way."
Karl's face was still flushed from the girl's touch, and the bulge in his pants was even bigger now.
"Hey, pretty cunt, I could pull out my old dong and beat her with it!" Karl said.
"Cool it, Karl," Estrada barked. "Why don't you go jack off somewhere!"
"Wait a minute!" La Rue said. "You both might have something. You know how very proper and prudish our Miss Abigail is. We can torture her all right, but why not do it with sex?"
"She'd like that," Estrada said.
"Like hell she would! We could bring her up here and tie her up, and make her watch Karl undress. Make her look at Karl's prick, play with it!" She was getting excited about the idea.
"Don't you sec? We can torture her with the threat of undressing her, raping her, molesting her and just everything. We'll have her so terrorized she'll spill where she hid the paintings."
Estrada nodded. "I think it'll work. You a sadist or something? How did you ever think up a crazy idea like this?"
"I just know my sister Abigail."
Estrada grinned. "Let's try it."
"I'll go bring her up," La Rue said. At the door she turned. "Both you cock-hounds keep your pricks in your pants, at least for a while." She laughed and hurried down the stairs.
Dal had been sitting on the bottom step. He rose when he heard her.
"You all right, Miss La Rue?"
"Yes, Dal, I'm fine. Dal, please don't bother the men upstairs."
Dal said he wouldn't go up. She smiled. "One of these days I'm going to seduce you and steal you away from Abigail. You're much too good for her."
Dal watched her without saying a word. She smiled at him and turned into the hall to the bedrooms.
Lupe came in from the kitchen where she had been listening. She frowned at Dal and her youth became more apparent. She was seventeen, but had passed for twenty-one at the border.
"Dal, what's going on? I don't like those two men upstairs."
"Long as Miss La Rue is here, it's going to be a strange household, Lupe. We agreed to that, remember? All we can do is try to take care of Miss Abigail and Miss La Rue best way we can."
She shivered and stood closer to him. She looked up with her brown eyes, pleading.
"Dal, wish I had the nerve to say what Miss La Rue said about running away with you." She leaned against him and her body trembled. "Dal, I think I'd do anything you asked me to."
He dropped his arms around her. "Lupe, I'm sorry about the other night. I didn't mean to do it. I got carried away."
"Dal, I'm glad you did, real glad!"
"Lupe, you know my job is to protect Miss Abigail. Nothin' can get in my way of that."
"I know, Dal."
He let go of her and stepped back, looking toward the stairs. Dal went into the kitchen, came back with an axe handle, and returned to his post at the foot of the stairs.
Miss Abigail approached the stairs. She wore a blue sweater and dark stretch pants.
"Are those two men upstairs, Dal?"
"Yes, Miss Abigail."
"La Rue told me they were. Let's chase them out."
She led the way up the stairs, Dal right behind her. She swept into the room and Karl grinned.
"Hey, pretty pussy is back."
Dal stormed through the door and glared at Karl.
"Shut up, you. None of your gutter talk around Miss Abigail." Dal stood six feet from Karl, both hands on the axe handle, his shoulders flexing.
Karl backed up a step and moved closer to Estrada.
"Miss Abigail, glad you could come up. We have a deal we want to talk about to represent you for all of your paintings. But it's confidential. Could you send your hired man downstairs!"
"I have nothing to say to you gentlemen. I asked you to leave. I do so again."
"But we're not ready to go."
Dal took a quick step toward him, but Abigail held up her hand stopping him.
"I'm a reasonable woman. I'll allow you five minutes to gather up your coats and to get out the front door."
"Abigail, you could be a pretty woman if you tried, with those blue eyes and black hair...."
Mr. Estrada! I'm not falling for compliments, and especially ones so obviously insincere. You have about Four minutes to leave, or Mr. Henderson will assist you."
She looked sternly at both of them. "Is that understood?"
"Precisely, Miss Vandecovering."
She turned toward the door and motioned for Dal to follow. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
"Stay here, Dal, and tell me when they go. But don't go up there."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I want to see what La Rue is doing. I'll be back soon to check on them."
Abigail walked through the living room to the hall, and opened the first bedroom door. Inside, she closed the door and turned the key in the lock. She pulled off her sweater and stretch pants. She sat down at her dressing table.
Abigail looked into the mirror, staring at herself.
"Who are you?" she asked in a hushed voice.
"Who are you?" she repeated.
"You are Abigail at present," she said.
Unhooking her bra, she let it spring free, and her breasts pushed upwards from where they had been bound so tightly. She slipped the bra off and watched the red lines on her breasts begin to fade.
She worked rapidly. She slipped contact lenses on her eyes, which changed the color from light blue to green.
She took a box from the drawer and fixed long eyelashes to her eyelids and put on eye makeup. From another drawer she took an ash-blonde wig and pinned it securely over her black hair.
She stood up, applying a final dab of eye makeup and looking at her reflection in the mirror. The image that stared back at her was blonde, with green eyes, and full breasts. A flat stomach ended at delicate panties of white lace.
"Who are you?" she demanded of the minor.
"Yor are La Rue!" the answer came back.
"You are La Rue!"
She looked at the image a moment longer and laughed, low and throaty. "You're fucken' ass right I'm La Rue," she said. Her hand massaged her breasts until the nipples perked high with excitement. She put on a half-cup bra and the scoop neckline blouse and micro skirt she had worn before.
She added a trace of very pale lipstick and slid on open-toed sandals.
"La Rue, I like you," she said. Moving toward the door she wondered how she could get rid of Dal Henderson for a few hours.
CHAPTER THREE
La Rue found Dal in the living room looking at the newspaper. He stood when she came in.
"Dal, honey, there's a few things I need from the drug store, could you scoot over and get them? Abigail said it would be all right. I have a list, some girl type things."
"Don't think I should leave until those two men go." Dal protested. "Miss Abigail told me to be sure they leave."
"Abigail gets kind of stuffy sometimes, doesn't she, darling?" La Rue smiled at him. "I'll see that they leave, O.K.?"
"If you say so, Miss La Rue." He took the slip of paper and hesitated. "You sure this can't wait?"
La Rue bristled. "Dal, you're cute and sexy, but don't get impertinent! I need those things tonight. You don't have to rush right back. Go to a movie or something."
"Yes ma'am." He frowned for a moment, then left.
La Rue watched him from behind the drapes. When he pulled the power boat out of the boathouse and gunned into the choppy whitecaps of the bay, she turned and danced up the stairs.
"Sorry it took me so long," she said as she pushed through the door. "I had to get rid of Dal Anderson. I sent him into town. That should leave you an open field with Miss Abigail."
"Is that kid dangerous?" Estrada asked.
"I could take him, boss. Axe handle or not." Karl stated confidently.
"He's gone now so we don't have to worry about it," La Rue said. She went to Estrada and rubbed her leg against his. "I've got a couple of rules, big daddy. Don't get rough with Abigail. Don't slap her around, understand. I may be a bitch but she is my sister. And I won't be in the room at all when you play around with her. But take it easy."
"Hell, La Rue, I thought you'd get your kicks watching us sock it to her," Estrada said.
"I don't go for these mass orgies." Her hand rubbed his penis where it bulged in his pants. "But you want to play hump the hostess privately, you got yourself a mama. Just as soon as we get that painting."
"We're wasting time," Karl said.
"He's right, Abigail should be in her bedroom. Why don't we go down there."
La Rue led the way and pushed open Abigail's bedroom door. Karl ran inside and looked around.
"Where the hell is she?" he asked.
Estrada looked in the closets, but she wasn't there.
La Rue picked up the blue sweater and pants.
"With her pants off, she must be .in one of the other bedrooms. You guys hide and I'll get her to come back in."
"O.K." Estrada said, "but make it fast."
La Rue nodded and closed the bedroom door. She moved down to the next door and entered quietly. She locked the door and went to a wall mirror. Quickly she popped the contact lenses from her eyes and put them in an envelope. She pulled the blonde wig off and put it and the lenses high in the closet. With cold cream she washed away the heavy eye make up and took off the blouse, bra and skirt. She threw them into a closet and put on a robe. The eyelashes! She took them off carefully and wiped away the last of the eye shadow.
She looked in the mirror admiringly. "Who are you?"
"You are Abigail. Abigail, and no man has ever touched you. No man will ever enter you!"
She ran her fingers through her straight black hair, and dropped her hands to her sides. Her shoulders sagged and a frown creased her fore head. Walking to the door her swagger was gone, and she walked ladylike.
At the bedroom, she opened the door and walked inside.
"La Rue, are you in my bedroom? I know you're here, because I can't find you anywhere else. La Rue!"
Karl jumped out of the closet first and Abigail screamed. She couldn't help it. She pulled the robe tighter around her.
"Get out of here! I'm not dressed. Get out or I'll call the police."
"With what, pretty pussy? You ain't got no phone."
The second closet door opened and Estrada came out, brushing back his hair.
"Screaming won't help you, Abigail. Lock the door, Karl." He looked back at Abigail who trembled as she held the robe around herself tightly.
"You have one last chance to tell us where that Charles Russell painting is, Miss Vandecovering. If you don't I'm turning you over to Karl."
"No! You can't do that! He'd ... he'd hurt me! Estrada, believe me. There is no Charles Russell. If there were I'd give it to you right now! You looked, remember? You cheeked out that whole room. It wasn't there, because I don't have one!"
She took a deep breath, her face working desperately.
"I said once to a newspaper man I would love to have a Charles Russell painting. He did such a beautiful painting on horses. But I never got one. I don't have one now!"
Karl had moved up behind her as she pleaded with Estrada. One of his hands came over her mouth and the other clamped tightly over one breast. Abigail's eyes went white with fear. The scream died inside her closed lips. Karl moved his hands and carried her to the bed where he dropped her.
"Abigail, I'm sure you know by now what we have in mind." Estrada said. "You can stop it anytime you want to, just tell us where the painting is.
Karl had his jacket off and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Abigail watched him, silent tears staining her cheeks.
"Ever see a man undress, Abigail? La Rue told us you're a virgin, that so?"
She didn't answer, just looked straight ahead. When Karl pulled his shirt off, his hands were momentarily tangled in the cuffs. Abigail jumped off the bed and ran to the door. Estrada caught her. Spinning her around to face him, Estrada slapped her hard. She slapped him back with a full swing of her arm. He shook his head and grabbed her breast through the soft robe and held it tightly. He pulled her back to the bed with the breast-hold and sat her down.
"From now on, cunt, you do exactly what you're told, and nothing else!" Estrada said, "If you try to run out again, you'll get slapped around till your face is hamburger."
He pulled the robe off her shoulders and down her arms. She tried to hug it around her breasts, but he pulled it away until it fell around her hips.
"I'll be a mother-fuck!" Karl breathed. "She's got a lot more tits than I thought. Look at those mother-fuckin' knockers!"
Abigail couldn't believe this was happening to her. It was all La Rue's fault! La Rue had let the men stay after she had ordered them out. La Rue had brought them here and hidden them in her closets! La Rue had probably made some dirty deal with these madmen!
Abigail brought her hands and arms up to hide her breasts, but Estrada pulled them down.
"Don't hide them, baby," Estrada said. "We're gonna make pretty music with them pretty soon."
They were monsters! How could she convince them there was no Charles Russell painting? Abigail gasped and turned her head. Karl had unzipped his pants and dropped them to the floor.
Strong hands turned her head back, and she couldn't close her eyes. She stared at Karl's white shorts with the large bulge in front. She screamed a piercing wail of fright. Estrada's hand clamped over her mouth.
"If that hired girl of yours comes in, you tell her you saw a mouse, that everything's fine. Hear?"
She nodded. He took his hand off her mouth.
A knock sounded at the door. "Miss Abigail? You all right?"
"Yes ... Yes, Lupe. I just saw a mouse and it startled me. I'm okay ... you ... you run along now."
"Yes Ma'am," Lupe said, and they heard her footsteps go away from the door.
"Now that was better, Abigail," Estrada said. "Be quiet and you won't get bruised. We want that painting. I'll stop Karl any time you show us that Russell."
"I don't have a Charles Russell," she said.
Estrada nodded to Karl who began to stretch the elastic band of his shorts downward past his stiff penis.
Abigail turned her head, but Estrada pushed it back. She couldn't close her eyes. Abigail stared in shock and disbelief as the man in front of her pulled the white garment down past his massive sex organs. It was huge! He slid the shorts down and stepped out of them. Her eyes scanned the entire length of his sex tool.
Abigail felt the bile in her stomach start to come up and she swallowed quickly to keep it down.
"Oh, no!" she said softly.
Karl walked toward her, and she saw the pubic hairs and the heavy sack swinging with every step. She stared in abhorrence at the meaty cock in a state of rigidity.
Karl came closer and closer. His genitals were level with her face. She shivered and tried to turn, but Estrada's hands held her.
"Trade you one hard prick for an expensive picture, woman!" Karl said.
Her hand shot out in a karate chop, and only a fast thrust of Karl's hand caught the blow, preventing her from hitting his penis.
Karl slapped her and she spun to the bed, face down.
"You sneaky, dirty bitch!" Karl yelled. "You try to hit my cock again and I'll chew your tits up but good!"
Estrada pulled her up from the bed. Her hands automatically covered her breasts again. "Where's the picture, Abigail?"
"I don't have it."
Estrada sighed. "You're a hard woman to do business with, but you are a woman-so we'll do business."
Abigail looked straight ahead. She would simply ignore him. He could pull her clothes off, but he wouldn't be stupid enough to touch her. If he did she would charge him with everything in the book. And she still had his business card.
"Sit on your hands, Abigail."
She frowned and looked at him. "Why?"
"Because I said so. Sit on them!"
Estrada enforced his command by pinching her nipple. He muffled her expected scream. Abigail obediently sat on her hands, her shoulders slumped forward.
"Sit up straight, woman, like you're proud."
She did and felt her breasts lift and push out. He wouldn't have the nerve to go any farther.
Karl was still standing in front of her. His hand playing with his penis, pushing down its length then back up. He was filthy! Abigail closed her eyes.
When his hands touched her skin, Abigail gasped. They were on her back, gently massaging her shoulders, and working on her back. His hands worked lower and lower. She kept her eyes closed and felt the man move behind her on the bed. The massage warmed her skin. His hands worked around her sides, gently stroking each breast. The warm glow built.
"No!" Abigail shouted. She realized the man's hands had invaded her breasts. She pulled her hands free from her hips and swung at the man behind her. But a soft weight hit her face and pressed down, forcing her backwards until she fell on the bed. It was dark. She couldn't see and could hardly breathe. Another weight fell on her legs and she couldn't move.
CHAPTER FOUR
Pushing up as hard as she could, Abigail managed to force the pillow off her face so she could turn her head. She could breathe. She thrust upwards again with her arms and the pillow fell away.
Strong hands caught her wrists and pulled them over her head. Karl, still nude, was the weight on her knees. She stared past her bare breasts at the man's genitals and shuddered. Part of her robe covered her waist and legs.
Karl bent forward touching her breast, trailing his hand around it, cupping its fullness.
"Why you so touchy about your tits, pretty cunt?" Karl asked. "Is this one still sore." He wiggled his finger against the erect nipple.
She didn't answer, only watched his hand go around and around her breast. At first the touch was repulsive. She watched in fascination as the hand stroked her breast, fondled it and worked up the white sides toward the top.
No one had ever felt her like that! No one had touched her breast since she became a woman. She shivered and watched. His fingers climbed to the top of the mound and massaged the roughness of the areola. She gasped. It felt so different, so tender, sensitive!
His hand moved again and brushed the soft brown of her nipple. It was short and fiat, but with the touch and his coaxing, it rose and darkened and stood stiffly at attention.
Abigail felt like she was watching a clinical demonstration, objectively and unmoved. The grip on her hands loosened momentarily. Karl reached his hand toward her other breast.
With a quick jerk upwards, she pulled free her hands and swung them toward Karl's head as he bent over her. The movement was awkward, and he caught her arms easily and forced them back over her head.
"Get something to tie her with," Karl said to Estrada.
She felt the bed bounce up as Estrada left it. He returned a moment later and she realized her hands were being tied over her head.
Karl stretched out, laying on top of her, with his legs at each side, crushing her into the bed.
"Hey, baby, how does that feel? Wouldn't it be great to have that old cock inside you?"
He pushed up with his hands to look at her. Abigail spit in his face.
Karl stretched out, laying on top of her, with his back of his hand.
"You fuckin' bitch! You god-damned whore! I should make you take it in your mouth right now!" Karl grabbed his pants and pulled a handkerchief out of the pocket. He balled it up and stuffed it into Abigail's mouth.
"Now let's see, where was I?" His hand came back to her breast and Abigail winced. He wasn't so tender this time. His hands worked both of her mounds at the same time and again Abigail felt the tenderness around the areoles. She sensed a flicker of warmth as he toyed with her nipples.
Revulsion was her only emotion. A total rejection of everything he did. He was a filthy animal a rapist, a lustful beast! Her mind whirled making up insults to hurl at him, but she was frustrated.
Her mouth was still gagged. She tried to spit it out, but there was too much of it. There was no chance to get her hands loose now. She moved her legs, but he trapped them, and as he did she felt the robe slip farther off. Soon she would be entirely exposed! A tremor of fear ran through her. They're going to rape me. How can I stop them? Dal could fight them! Yes, that was it. Soon Dal would realize she was missing ... She let a tear creep down her face. No! La Rue had sent Dal to the store. Damn La Rue!
Abigail had closed her eyes and gasped. Karl's mouth was pressing over her breast, his tongue laving her nipple, licking across the roughness of her areole. Karl nibbled on the erected nipple, then pulled as much of the soft breast into his mouth as he could, sucking harder and harder.
She felt something scraping up and down against the inside flesh of her legs, and for a moment couldn't figure what it was. Then she knew and she wanted to scream. It was his penis, pumping up and down against her! She heard his breath come faster. What could she do?
Karl sat astride her hips and moved up farther until he could bend his penis down and rub it against her breasts. He massaged each one with the long organ, then put it between her mounds, kneading her breasts together to cover the lance. He began a slow rhythmical motion with his hips pushing his cock between her breasts and letting it slide back.
With every upward stroke she could see the purple tip of him plunge against her breasts and towards her face. His breath came fast now and his hips jerked faster.
"Damnit-to-chicken-fuckin' hell, I can't stop!" Karl said it in a long groan.
His hips pounded against her. His balls slapped against the base of her breasts. His penis jolted into her breasts and pushed past. He lunged against her again. She felt a gush of hot fluid smear her breast. She looked down. She saw the opening in his prick pump a white fluid out, again and again. His hips stopped the piston thrusts and he rested on his elbows, still pushing her breasts around his phallus.
A moment later he sat back on her hips and looked at her breasts.
"Hey, not bad for a tit-fuck," Karl said. "You sure got creamed tits now, Abby baby."
Abigail hardly heard him. The only thing she could think of was the sight of that purple-headed penis pulsing against her breasts and spurting hot semen. It had to be a bad dream! It was too filthy, to animalistic for her to even consider experiencing. She watched the man slide off her and go to her vanity table. He brought back a box of facial tissues. Wrapping one tissue around his tool he set the box on her stomach.
"You're a mess, pussy. Got cum all over your tits. Why don't you clean yourself up?" Karl laughed.
Estrada untied her hands.
"Abby, you sit tight and be a good little lady and we'll let you get cleaned up," Estrada said. "O.K."
She nodded and he untied her hands, then took the handkerchief from her mouth.
Abigail swallowed three times when the cloth came out of her mouth. Her throat still felt dry. She took the tissue and cleaned the come off her breasts and throat. She couldn't dare think what it was. She should have a bath, but she knew they wouldn't let her. She pulled the robe over her hips more securely.
"Now, Abigail. You've had a new experience, old Karl there cracked his nuts, and votive paraded around for us in the nude. Is that enough? Isn't it time you show us where you hid that painting? Then we get off this peninsula before the tide comes in. We could stay all night you know. Then we could play some real wild games with you!"
Abigail's mind was a turmoil of confusion. If she told them she didn't have the painting, they wouldn't believe her. What if she agreed she would get it for them? There might be a chance to get away!
"All right, Estrada, you win. I thought I could outwit you. Thought I could scare you off." She shook her head and pulled the robe around her shoulders, covering herself.
"I'll have to get dressed to show you where it is."
Karl looked at Estrada. Estrada held up his hand.
"Why not, I'm more interested in $40,000 than a piece of her pussy. Get dressed, and fast!"
She made them turn around while she dressed, putting on underwear and the blue sweater and black pants she had worn earlier. She slipped on blue sneakers.
Karl dressed while she did. She walked in front of them.
"I kept it out in the garage, really in a storage shed at the end of the garage. We don't have a car, so it seemed like a good idea."
"Wait a minute," Estrada said as she reached for the door. "We go directly to the garage. I don't want you to speak to the girl or anybody else. If you see La Rue you wave and go right on. This is between you and me."
Abigail nodded and went out the door. It was almost dark as they walked to the garage. The wind had picked up and the waves crashed against the rocks, sending salty spray into the air. She didn't look at the strand. There had to be enough solid sand left to connect them with the mainland, if her calculations were right there still would be. It was almost dark, but the tide would not turn the peninsula into an island.
"The painting is at this end of the garage," she said, leading them to a small shed. "I have to trip a locking lever inside. It's hard to work, so I'll go inside and unhook it. Both of you lift this door off. Never were any hinges for it, and it's heavy."
They understood and Abigail went to the garage and opened the door. She hurried over to her motorcycle. She straddled it, pushed it off the two pronged stand and turned the key. She hit the choke button to pump a squirt of gas into the chamber and poised her foot over the kick starter. She guessed she had three tries to get it going. After that Karl would come storming in.
She kicked it the first time, but nothing happened. The second time it sputtered, and the third time it crackled into life. She pushed it into first gear and let out the clutch. The wheels spun as the bike shot out the door, narrowly missing Karl and bouncing over the unused road toward the peninsula of sand that led to the mainland. Karl charged after her.
She took the small bump at the end of the turfed sand and splashed water as she hit the tide swept sand. She eyed the hard sand of the strand. Water surged over it. There was no sand road left! She was too late!
The little cycle engine screamed as she gunned it, but the front tire mired in the wet sand and a foot-high wave slapped her legs, killing the engine. She jumped off the cycle and ran through the sand and water toward the outstretched mainland.
Karl caught her twenty feet from the cycle. He picked her up. She thrashed as he waded back to the solid sand in front of the house and dropped her.
"Back into the house," Estrada ordered. "There's nothing in that storage shed but some tools. You didn't quite make it, Miss Abigail. We'll see what new fun and games we can think up to play with you tonight."
Tears swept down her cheeks as she marched back into the house, but her head was high.
On the porch Estrada stopped her. "You really ready to tell us where that painting is?"
She nodded.
"It's in Arizona. A small art dealer there called me when I still had a phone and asked me if I wanted to buy it. He read the same news story you did."
"Still trying to play games with us, huh?" Estrada said. He eyed the waves sweeping over the strand.
"We can play games too, woman. And some of them you won't like. We've got all night to play games with you. And from the looks of those whitecaps, your boy Dal won't be able to get back tonight in that little boat."
Karl grinned.
"Welcome, pretty pussy, to the 24 hour ordeal of Abigail, 24 hours of orgies! 24 hours of horrible experiences that even 24 whores wouldn't be paid to do!"
CHAPTER FIVE
The moment Abigail stepped inside her house she ran for the kitchen. Karl caught her, spinning her around. His finger touched his lips in a sign for quiet.
"Why on earth should I be quiet in my own house?"
"Cause if you don't, I'll slap hell out of you," Karl said softly. He blocked her way toward the kitchen and pointed toward her bedroom.
Abigail knew she shouldn't go back into her bedroom, but there was nothing else she could do. She had gambled and lost. Certainly she didn't want to get Lupe involved. She shrugged slightly aiid walked slowly across the living room.
Estrada was already there. He came up to her grabbing for one of her breasts. Abigail shot her right hand out, fingers rigid and held tightly together, in a defensive stab. The fingers plunged into his stomach just under the ribs, and a sudden gush of air exploded from his lungs. Estrada stumbled backwards, doubled over, holding his stomach.
Before Abigail could relish her small victory, Karl caught her and twisted her arm behind her back. Estrada coughed several times before he stood slowly, gasping for air.
It was five minutes before the smaller man could talk. Karl held Abigail as she kicked and squirmed.
"You son-of-a-bitching, fucking whore!" Estrada spat it at Abigail. He straightened up and when the first complete breath came to him, he backhanded her viciously across one cheek. Karl held her solidly and a small cry came from Abigail.
Estrada slapped her again, first on one cheek and then the other. Karl turned her sharply away from the man.
"No, it won't help," Karl said. "Remember La Rue told us to go easy on this. We'll get results quicker the other way. I'd bet my jock strap on it."
Karl pushed Abigail down on the bed and let go of her. She moved to the far side. Estrada glared at her, the anger still spilling out of his eyes, staining his words.
"You disappoint me, Abigail. I thought you were a educated, responsible individual. Now I see you're trash, trash with some money. We'll break you, because we know how. We've got some inside information about you. We know what makes you tick. You play rough, and we'll play rougher."
Abigail sat on the bed. She was still furious, but it didn't show. She tried to restore her courage.
"Estrada, you have the breeding of an alley cat and the manners of a pig. Why you can't accept the simple fact that I don't have the paintings. How do you expect me to give you something I don't have."
She stood beside the bed. "Estrada, you put on your best manners, take your goon and sit in the living room until 4 a.m. Then I'll let you walk across the dry sand of the strand to your car. I won't follow and I won't call the police and report you."
"Shit!" Estrada snorted, "Pussy you think we're ready to run? With $40,000 salted away in this house, we're gonna walk away and leave it?" He laughed and walked around the bed toward her. "You and me are gonna have a little party, Abby baby. It's going to be the best fucking party of the social season."
He stopped in front of her. "And sister, you jab me again with your fingers, and I'm gonna break one of them. UNDERSTAND?" Abigail nodded.
I've got to come up with a plan! she thought desperately as she stood up talking. Maybe I can keep him talking. She backed up.
"Now, just a minute, Estrada. Think about what you're doing. Think how it's going to sound in court. So far you haven't really touched me, but if you do ... "
She backed into the wall with a jolt. Estrada reached for her heaving breast. His hand formed around her breast, pressing the blue sweater, his fingers stroking.
"You want money, Estrada? I'll write you a check for $5,000 right now if you get out of here and let me lock the door. That's a good night's pay, isn't it?"
Estrada fondled her other breast, ignoring her question.
"You might be afraid of a check, why not take some paintings? I have five paintings I've finished that are priced at $1,000 each, Estrada. Why not take them out with you in the morning. I'll give you a bill of sale and everything. A clean $5,000 profit."
"Keep talking, Abby, baby. So far you said you'd pay me $5,000 not to fuck your pretty pussy. You sure it isn't worth more than that to you?"
"All right! I've got five more paintings at $800 each, take those too. That's $9,000 worth of art I'm offering you."
Estrada shook his head. "No deal, pussy. That $9,000 instead of $40,000 doesn't sound good to me.
"But I don't have $40,000. And I don't have a $40,000 painting. You looked. Don't you believe your own eyes?"
"Take off your sweater."
"No!"
He did it for her. He pulled the sweater up over her breasts. Abby started to run, but was yanked backwards as Estrada jerked the sweater oil of her. She shrank back, covering her bra with her arms and hands. She had no place to run, trapped bv the bed on one side, and the wall on the other.
"Think about it, Estrada," She quickly said. "Nine thousand dollars, free and clear. With no middleman, no discount, a straight cash deal and all legal."
He shook his head and reached out for her bra. She knocked his hand down. Estrada reacted quickly, stepping close to her and pushing his hands around her back. She tried to push him away frantically. He found the bra catch and unhooked it, then pulled the bra off her arms. He held her wrists so she couldn't cover herself with her arms.
"That's a pair of beauties, Abby, sweet-pussy. Don't see why you're trying to hide them."
He pushed her toward the bed and she tumbled down on it. He settled down beside her and tried to shove him away. She hated the very thought of him being next to her. She covered her breasts holding one in each hand.
Estrada circled his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. She shuddered. He pulled her hands away from her breasts. He touched the soft brown bud of her nipple. Abigail gasped and tried to pull away.
He let her go. She stood up and Karl pushed her so she fell backwards on the bed. Estrada's hands caught at her black pants and pulled the zipper down the side. He worked quickly and jerked the stretch pants to her ankles, then off her feet taking the low-cut shoes with them. She writhed, trying to hold her legs together.
Estrada laughed as he looked at her. "Look, Karl. Look at those panties. White lace ruffles and even some peek-a-boo lace right over her little cunt. Ain't that sweet?"
He ran his hand up her leg, past her knee and onto the satin-smooth whiteness of her inner thigh. Abigail tried to knee him but Karl held her legs down. Estrada caught her hand and pulled her up to her knees on the bed facing him.
"You play rough, we play rougher, remember?" He put her hands on his shirt, a white turtleneck. He had already discarded his jacket.
"Now you undress me, Abigail pussy, right down to my old cock!"
She drew her hands back. Estrada caught her breast and began to twist.
"All right," she said, her face reflecting the bruising pain. She tugged the tight-necked shirt over his head, scraping it past his ears. Abigail hesitated, then took his T shirt off the same way. Her hands fought with his belt. She had no idea how it worked. He helped her and it came free.
Abigail's thoughts were a jumble of contradictions. She kept telling herself she had to go along with these men up to a point or they might kill her. But the very sight of Estrada's hairy chest and the bulge in the crotch of his pants nauseated her. She unzipped his pants and drew them down. The bulge protruded, pressing against his briefs grotesquely.
How did it get so big, so fast, she wondered? Estrada kicked off the pants and pointed to his shorts. She turned her head as she pulled them down. He yelped.
"You trying to break my prick off? You crazy woman! Pull them out and then down."
She did and the ugly, thick head of his sex tool came in sight. Abigail turned away. So high. So awful looking! When she looked away she saw Karl settle down in a chair with a magazine. The door to her bathroom was open. Could she get inside and lock it?
Abigail bounced to the far side of the bed and jumped off, running for the bathroom.
Estrada had bent over to take his shorts off. His yell to Karl came too late. The girl darted into the bath and slammed the door, pushing the old fashioned bolt into place.
'Safe. I'm safe.' She had the door locked, and they couldn't get in! As soon as the storm slowed down Dal would come back with the boat, and he would run the dirty old men into the ocean. She leaned against the door and released a sigh of relief.
She took a robe off the hook on the back of the door and slipped into it.
"You might as well go downstairs and relax or go to sleep, Estrada. I'm not coming out and you can't come in to get me."
She waited a moment, then sat down on the softness of the cover of the toilet stool. She saw the door handle turn, and snap back.
"Enjoy it in there while you can, Abby, we'll be inside in about two minutes," Estrada said through the door.
She listened to them crash into the door.
She saw the door give a little as the pounding increased. Abigail jumped up and moved back from the door as something hard hit it near the handle. The small bolt on the door quavered but held. The pounding came again and again as if someone were kicking at the door.
The blows loosened the screws that held the bolt to the door. The next kick rammed the door inward, revealing Karl, ready to kick again. He grabbed Abigail by one arm and jerked her back to the bed.
Estrada, still nude, lay on the bed watching her.
"You've played your last little game with us, Abby. I'm gonna get some of your sweet pussy right now."
Karl tore off the robe and pushed her backwards onto the bed. Estrada rolled on top of her. His hands caught her breasts, petting them softly. She tried to hit him with her right fist. Her left hand had twisted under her when he shoved her down. Estrada caught her hand and held it.
He bent to her mouth and tried to cover her lips with his. She turned her head sideways to escape him and he nibbled at her ear. She tried to turn her head again but he held her fast. He nibbled at her ear and moved over to her neck. Estrada's ear was in front of her mouth.
Abigail reached out with her teeth and clamped down hard, grinding her teeth together through the lobe of his ear.
Estrada screamed and jumped away from her, his hand cupping his ear as he yelled again. The lobe hung by a few threads of flesh. Estrada ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror. Karl guarded her while Estrada was gone. When he came back his face was pale. A gauze pad with adhesive strips covering his ear.
In his hands he had two silk scarves. Without a word lie tied her bawls to the top rung of the bed rail. The second scarf he wadded and stuffed into her mouth.
Estrada straddled her soft body and began feeling her soft flesh.
CHAPTER SIX
His hands touched her legs, brushing them softly, pushing them apart and stroking her thighs. She tried to pull her legs together, but he stopped her.
Estrada thrust his hand high up on her white inner thigh and Abigail trembled. He pulled the gag free.
"Don't," she pleaded.
"La Rue says you're still a virgin, is that right?"
"Nothing La Rue says is right, except that. La Rue is a filthy, scheming slut!"
"You're kidding me, Abby. With tits like that you've still got a cherry? This I gotta see!"
Estrada stroked her thighs, working higher toward the white lace of the panties. He followed the gentle curves of her leg with his hand, letting it flow along the delectable contours to the white lace. His hands worked on both of her thighs. He spread her legs farther apart and knelt between them working higher and higher with his caresses.
His finger -rimmed the elastic band of her lace panties, and she tried to draw back.
"Easy, pussy, easy girl. This ain't gonna hurt a bit. You'll get your kicks out of it too." Estrada grinned down at her pleading eyes. "I never fuck a pretty cunt like you without trying to make her cum too."
His hand slid under the top of the panties and felt the soft belly. The hand explored further until he touched her pubic hair. His penis jerked in anticipation and a small drop of sperm appeared at its tip.
Estrada grabbed her panties and slid them down her hips. He forced them down and exposed her crotch. Letting go of the cloth, he moaned and put both hands into her fur triangle. He played in the forest a moment and sighed.
"What a way to go! But I got to save the frosting till later." Estrada laid on top of her, crushing her against the bed blankets. His eyes gazing upon her breasts.
"I might be a leg man, pussy, but I still like the old knockers."
His hand ringed the base of her breasts and slowly milked upwards.
"Way I look at it, Abby-cunt, we got to make hay while the tits are still here. The way women are nowadays, tits arc on the way out. True. Most women are Hat chested, or maybe a 30 or a 32. Women don't let their babies suck their tits, so they're just going to dry up and wither away. In 200 years you won't be able to tell a woman's chest from a man's."
His hand stroked the mound and felt the blue veins of her breasts. Fingers walked softly around the top of the breast just under the areole.
Abigail pushed up hard, humping her hips into the air, but he was too heavy. She dropped down and began to cry. Tears swelled in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. How could he do this? Tie her up and rape her? She winced as his fingers prodded her breast. She could think of absolutely nothing else to do. She had tricked him, run away, bit off part of his ear, and still he came.
She closed her eyes, shutting out the visual sensations of the animal that pawed her. At least she could do that much. His hands were still on her. She felt the long stiff penis against her legs. A small shiver shook her spine and a soft glow of warmness spilled into her system. She could not describe it, and did not know where it came from. Certainly she had never felt anything like it before. It was a warmness, a softness, an everything's right with the world feeling.
'No! It can't be!' But she knew what it was. That yielding, give-in softness, was the feel of love. She had been betrayed by her own body. Her legs and breasts and glands were encouraging that beast above her.
She rolled to one side as far as she could, but his hand held her breast. His fingers scraped over the roughness of the areole, then touched her nipple.
Abigail consciously crushed and rejected the warm glow of love. Attack him again. That was her plan.
"Are you doing this because you think I'm a virgin?"
"Sure, why not? I'm an old cherry picker, and I just plain like to fuck."
"What if I told you I'm not a virgin?"
He pushed the nipple back and forth and she felt blood rushing into it, making it bristle and hard.
"Baby, with you stretched out this way, and your pretty pussy down there just waiting for it, wouldn't make a bit of difference what you said." He grinned at her. "Unless you said you wanted to take my dick in your mouth first to get him all warmed up."
Karl looked up from his magazine and snorted.
"Estrada, you're getting to be an old man. I'd have cum twice in her by this time. Hurry up and let me take a crack at her."
Estrada ignored the intrusion and fingered the nipple until it stood tall and proud. He went to work on her other breast and in a few moments it's twin guardian sprung to life.
His mouth dropped onto hers quickly, before she could turn her head. His mouth crushed against her lips. He pressed tightly but she wouldn't open her mouth. He licked her lips before he dropped his head to her breasts.
He continued licking, working up from the base of her breasts. He reached the nipple of her breast. She felt the warm glow building again.
He turned and trailed his tongue down her breast and across her stomach. Only when he came to her patch of dark pubic hair did he stop.
His hands touched her knees again, working slowly on her slender legs.
I "Estrada!" Abigail's voice stabbed through the stillness. He jumped and pulled his hand away from her, then laughed and went back to his labor. He pulled the panties all the way off her feet and tossed them away. His hand moved up to the edge of the pleasure zone.
"Estrada, you touch me there, and I'll kill you," Abigail said. Her voice carried a threat that sent a chill through Estrada. He had heard worse. He laughed at her, as his hand crept through the soft hair toward her outer lips.
She screamed as he touched the soft outer labia, and Estrada stopped to push the bandana back into her mouth. He cheeked carefully to see that she could still breathe.
"Now keep quiet, cunt. I don't like a bird talking while I'm humping her."
His fingers touched the soft lips again and he felt her body stir. He rubbed the petals carefully and found the tender bud of her clitoris. Her lips were moist and smelled of the faint musk of pussy juice. Moistening his fingers in her liquid, he wiggled her clitoris. Abigail writhed and jerked, as if he had plucked a guitar string. He hit the tiny love trigger again and she moved her hips.
Her hand should be holding my prick, Estrada thought. His fingers began a rhythmical massaging of her tender clitoris. He reached down and grasped his long tool, holding it tightly.
Abigail spasmed under the weight of the man. She hated his hand touching her down there, violating what she had held sacred and pure for so long. Why did men think only about sex! She wanted to scream at him, but she couldn't. She chewed at the gag but couldn't spit it out.
If I could only kick him in his scrotum. She thought. Slowly she drew her leg away from him and curled her foot under his spread legs. If she could just work her foot high enough before he noticed. She pushed against his leg and he moved a little, then shifted his weight from her.
She lashed her foot upward toward his crotch.
There was little power behind the move, but Estrada was off balance. Her bare foot hit his paunchy belly and shoved him to the side.
Estrada caught her legs and spread them into a wide V.
"You're just like a wild filly I used to have. Only way to break her was to saddle her up and ride."
His penis zeroed in, aiming for the furry apex of her spread legs. Abigail knew it was coming. His long penis surged ahead and nestled against her outer lips and stopped. He worked the tip of it in and out of her moist vagina.
Abigail gasped at every thrust. He couldn't. He just couldn't. She thought.
The instant the long tool entered her, Abigail screamed. The sound was absorbed by the gag. Estrada's cock slammed against the tender passage of her vagina. The searing pain of dry flesh ramming against her soft moist tissue burned again and again. Her soothing vaginal fluids flowed faster to ease the pain.
Abigail experienced the wild animal inside her, felt it smashing and gouging into a secluded treasure trove she had been saving for so long. Tears came again, and with them the mocking half-life memory of another night when she lay with someone pressing against her, and the same searing, burning thrust.
Her body had aided the invader, had given him her sweet juices to help his long tool to enter her.
She lay deathly still, even let her head roll to one side as if she had fainted.
Estrada grabbed her legs and lifted them high as his hips pounded it into her. It sent his prick driving deeper into her pussy, plundering a channel that had been virginally pure for so long.
He lifted her legs higher, tucking them just in back of his arms. She knew he was close to his release. His breath came in huge, hot gasps, and his hips beat against her with a maddening crescendo. Abigail tried to feel nothing.
The man over her grunted his satisfaction and nailed her to the mattress with one final surging thrust of his powerful hips.
He fell against her, his full weight mashing her into the bed. Estrada lay there for several minutes before he belched and withdrew. When he came back from the bathroom, he untied her hands and told her to sit up.
"Karl and I don't mind this little game at all, Abby," Estrada said grinning. "We can go on playing the rest of the night and not feel any strain. You'll have to play too, course. Or...." He left it hanging there.
"I can't give you what I don't have, Estrada. But you're too stupid and moronic to understand that."
He; slapped her, toppling her to the bed.
"Don't spoil the pretty face!" Karl said with more force than he intended. Estrada turned on the other man. "You giving orders now, Karl?"
"La Rue said...."
"I don't give a damn what La Rue said. Now sit down and shut up if you can't help. I got one crazy broad and an idiot for a muscle man. I should have concentrated on stealing used cars."
Estrada sat beside Abigail and petted one of her breasts. She pulled away.
"Abby-pussy, you ever hear of the old double cock game, or tits ahoy, or a half-and-half? What about a royal ream, or hair in the teeth? I know a dozen fun games we're going to play the rest of the night-unless you come across with that painting."
Abigail's judo chop shot toward Estrada's throat. Estrada jerked his head to the side and slammed his fist into her chin.
Abigail felt his knuckles hit her jaw and fell backwards against the old fashioned iron bedstead. Her head hit the post and the lights in the room faded.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Abigail drifted back through time. She was 15 again. She was standing in her room in the family's Long Island home. She held in her tummy and stared into a full length mirror. Her figure had certainly developed a lot during the past year.
She took a deep breath and pushed out her breasts as much as she could and smiled. She had as much tit as her mother. She wondered what it would feel like if a boy touched her breast. Maybe on her next date she would let it happen.
Abigail pulled off her sweater, was about to put on her nightie. It was late. Her father had gone to the city and said he'd be in very late. She was worried about her father. Since he and her mother had separated he'd been moody, and began to drink too much.
She glanced in the mirror again. Was one of her breasts larger than the other one? She faced the mirror and went up close, checking critically. She decided she wasn't lopsided after all. Playfully she caught the outside of both bare breasts and pushed them together to form a deep cleavage. That would really send the boys wild if she could wear a dress showing that much. Her mother used to.
She still held her breasts as the door to her room banged open and Abigail turned in surprise. The surprise turned to shock and fright as a man moved toward her.
Abigail fought to hold onto the dream, the replay of the old, half-remembered scene. But the picture spun dizzily and went to pieces, faded and snapped back for a moment before it turned to black.
She felt hands lifting her, laying her on a bed. The dream was strange. Was she still in the dream? No, the quilts felt real and soft. Her head hurt and she tried to rub it but hands held her safe.
She was safe from that haunting nightmare, safe so she wouldn't have to think about it. Safe from that prying psychiatrist who tried so hard to make her remember it all.
She moaned softly and nestled into the bedspread.
Rough hands caught her chin and shook her head.
"Wake up, pussy. Wake up."
The voice came through to her softly, then louder and louder until she wanted to hold her hands over her ears.
Slowly she opened her eyes. The ceiling looked blurred. The man standing over her was not the one in her nightmare. She relaxed, her eyes began to focus.
She remembered. She was living a nightmare now, a different one, but very real.
Karl grinned at her. "Hey, there pretty tits, we thought for sure we lost you. Nasty crack on your head. Estrada says he still owes you a couple."
She looked around, but couldn't see the smaller man.
"Where is he. Did he leave?"
"Hell no. He's in the John takin' a crap."
"Would you help me sit up please?"
He did. Abigail looked down and realized she was still naked. She pulled the bedspread over her hips and Karl laughed.
"Don't worry about it, Abby. We've seen everything you've got."
"Does he still think I have the painting?"
"Sure as hell does. I don't, cause I don't think a lady like you would let us fuck around with you the way we have if you could help it. You just ain't got that damn Russell."
"Then why keep torturing me?"
"Hell, Abby, we're stuck here for the night. And face it, you're a lot of woman. I ain't had an all-nighter in over a year."
Estrada came out of the bathroom still naked and wiping his genitals with a towel.
He came and stood directly in front of her. She wouldn't look up.
"You fuckin' bitch! You could've killed me with that damn judo chop. I know enough about karate for that."
A sudden gust of wind hit the house and it trembled, loosening a shutter somewhere on the windward side. It flapped in the storm. The first rain came with the wind, splattering against the window like hail on a tin roof.
"You still trying to con us into thinkin' you don't have that Russell?"
"What proof do you have that I do?" she asked.
"Proof? We got the damn newspaper story saying you wanted one. We got the word from a pansy art dealer in Phoenix who said he sold one to some broad here in town, and we got the word of your own damn sister, La Rue, that you got it. That proof enough?"
"That's no proof at all, Estrada. That newspaper story said I wanted one, not that I had one. I've never been to Arizona and never bought a painting from a gallery. And as far as La Rue goes, she's a psychopathic liar. Everybody says so." Abigail took a deep breath.
"She probably told you she went to school in Berkeley. Well, she registered and went to just two classes. The rest of the three months she spent there she was a street walking whore. She caught clap and also a police record. They parolled her to me. La Rue wouldn't know what to do all day if she couldn't tease poor Dal or lie to somebody."
Estrada hesitated for a moment, then he shook his head.
"I'd say lying runs in your family. Cause I can tell when a person's hiding something. You sure are." He paused and reached down to play with her bare breasts.
"Why don't we ask Lupe which twin's telling the truth?"
"Great idea," Karl said. "Hey, why don't we bring La Rue and Lupe both in and we'll have us a goddamned six-tit orgy."
"Go get them, Karl."
"Hot damn, fresh pussy!" Karl hurried out the bedroom door.
"There's no reason to bring Lupe into this. She's just a child. She doesn't know anything about the paintings."
"Then we won't hurt her," Estrada said.
Karl looked first in the other bedrooms, but no one was there. He tried the kitchen but Lupe wasn't there either. He had gone back to the living room when he heard a pan fall in the kitchen. She had to be there.
Karl poked into the broom closet and the pantry but found nothing. He looked at the pantry. No Lupe. He looked in the third bedroom at the far side of the house. He went up to the studio, turning lights on ahead of him, but Lupe had vanished. Karl came back to the bedroom and held his hands palms up.
"Can't find tit nor nipple of either of them two broads, Estrada," Karl said. "Think the rain washed them out to sea."
Estrada had lighted a cigar while Karl was gone. He knocked off an ash and ground it into the carpet.
"You couldn't find your own asshole," Estrada snapped. He turned to Abigail. "You come to your senses yet? Just show us where that damn Russell is and you can go to bed by yourself and get some sleep. Then soon as the tide goes out, we'll get off your island."
"Estrada. If I owned that painting, I would have given it to you the moment Karl began undressing. I simply don't have the painting!"
"Shit! You got it hidden. So we'll just have to play more fun and games. You'll remember this night as long as you live."
He turned to Karl. "Try to do something right for a change. Get out of here and find one of those women. In a house this size they both can't hide from you."
Karl's face reddened and he turned quickly, mumbling curses to himself as he left.
Estrada's manner warmed. He smiled at Abigail and reached for her hand.
"Abby, I don't think you liked what I just did to you. You weren't a virgin, but it must have been a long time since you've had sexual intercourse. You hated it, didn't you?"
She glanced up but said nothing.
"Abby, that was just the beginning. How do you think it would feel to have Karl's big cock rammed up your rectum? That would ream out your old asshole good, wouldn't it?"
She turned away.
"Abby you ever tasted semen? Ever had a prick in your mouth? That's another little game we'll play. Me on my hands and knees jamming my prick down your throat while you suck me off."
Abigail tried to stand but before she could, Estrada put his hand on her legs, holding her down. His hand worked down toward her crotch.
"There's no way to win, Abby. One of us could do it alone. Both of us will wear you out. So why punish yourself? I'd much rather have that painting than to have you suck me off. Why not just tell us where you hid it?"
Abigail's head pounded. She felt faint. Never had she heard such filthy talk. Never had she been so humiliated, and the thought that they would do those things to her left her weak. She started to panic.
"Are you a man or an animal?" she asked. They were both still nude, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Come on and wash yourself off, and I'll tell you something about men. I'm a man, and I like pussy, but I like money too. Tonight I'm gonna get plenty of both."
He followed her into the bathroom. She tried to shut the door on him, but he pushed inside.
"Go ahead, get cleaned up. Make your cunt nice and pretty for next time."
"With you here?" she asked.
"Why not? We've got no secrets from each other."
Abigail turned her back and began to wash between her legs.
"You're dumb about men, Abby. When a man has a hard-on and needs some woman to spread her legs for him, he is an animal. When the woman's attractive and well proportioned and has good tits like you do, he can go ape in a hurry."
Estrada reached out and patted her buttocks.
"Sure you're a little cold yet, but every woman needs her pussy training. You'll warm up. One of these times you'll break through your frigid little shell and realize it's a hell of a great feeling to get fucked. Once that happens you'll probably screw some poor bastard to death."
"Did you have to learn to be filthy and vulgar, or were you born that way, Estrada?"
He laughed. "I'll be a son-of-a-bitch. She's learning to talk nasty. You might turn out O.K. yet, pussy."
Abigail finished washing herself and put the hand towel over the bar folding it carefully.
She turned and left the room. She tried to walk correctly, head high, moving only her hips and legs. Back in the bedroom she stepped into her white lace panties and pulled them on. She had a bra on and her robe before Estrada came from the bath.
"Who said you could get dressed?" Estrada questioned.
"Who said you could use my bathroom?" She retorted.
Estrada chuckled. "Abby, if you would warm up you could be a hell of a lot of woman."
"Does Karl work with you all the time, or only when you rape your victims?"
"He's on the payroll when I need him. His muscle comes in handy, and he's a real horse cock. He can cum four times in an hour. Imagine that. Karl is hung like a bull elephant."
"You talk like you're a queer, Estrada. Are you?"
"I can go either way. But where there's pussy like yours hanging out, I'll fall into it every time." Estrada scratched his genitals. "Now where the hell is Karl?"
"Come on," Estrada said, grabbing her hand. They found him unconscious on the kitchen floor, a rolling pin nearby, but no one else in the room.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"I'll be damned!" Estrada said. "Who in hell could have done this?"
Abigail said, "I wish I had."
"Look at that lump on the back of his head. Get a pillow, Abby."
"Aren't you afraid I'll run away?"
"Where to?"
"I'm a very good swimmer."
"A quarter of a mile of stormy ocean at night? You're gutty, but not that much. Get a pillow."
She brought it and put it under Karl's head. They turned him onto his back and Estrada put a cold cloth over his forehead. Gradually he came back to consciousness.
"Lupe must have slugged him with the rolling pin," Estrada said, thinking out loud. "And then she hid again." He looked around the kitchen, in the broom closet in the pantry, but he couldn't find any trace of Lupe.
"So she's scared. She heard you scream, knows what is going on. Don't blame her. So she hid. She saw a chance and slugged Karl. Which gets me exactly nowhere. La Rue has to be the key to this mess. Where is she anyway?"
"She likes moonlight swims, try the channel."
"'very funny. Come on, I'm going to lock you in your room and then find La Rue. If she was lying to me about your having that painting, Karl and I'll get both of you in your bedroom and play some double-fuck games you wouldn't believe."
He pushed Abigail toward the door.
"What about him, he's just coming to."
"I'll talk to him when he makes sense. Now get."
Abigail went into her room and heard the door close behind her. It had the old-fashioned skeleton lock on it. She heard him turn the key and leave it jammed in the lock. She couldn't open it even if she had a spare key.
She went to the window, unlocked the catch and pushed it open six inches. The shutter was open and there was no screen.
Moving quickly she went to the closet and opened the doors. She looked at the clothes and ducked under them. In back of them in the comer she pushed a hidden catch near the sidewall and a spring loaded panel popped two inches away from the wall. Catching it with her hands she pulled and the floor-to-ceiling panel that formed the back wall of the closet wall slid away. Abigail stepped through it. She was in an identical closet in the next room. She pushed through the few clothes there and ran to lock the door of La Rue's bedroom. A few seconds later she was back pulling the panel in place and resetting the spring catch.
She worked quickly, changing into light blue panties, pulling on a mini-skirt and bikini type sun halter after stripping off her bra. She sat at the dressing table and carefully put on her La Rue make up.
"Who are you?" she asked the reflection. The face twisted as she watched it, and at last it spoke.
"I am Abigail. I am a painter. I love painting."
She worked again, adding the false eyelashes, the makeup, painting her lips a bright red this time and at last putting the wig in place and pinning it on securely.
"Who are you?" she asked the mirror.
"I am ... I am ... I don't know!" She held her face in her hands a moment. Then she adjusted her halter and as she did her fingers stroked along her breast. Her hand edged under the halter and fondled the breast for a moment, teasing the nipple until it stood tall, hot with new blood.
"Who are you?" she asked again.
"You are La Rue. You ARE La Rue!" She smiled and stood, hands on hips thrusting her breasts toward the mirror.
"You're fucking-john right, I'm La Rue," she said.
The knock came on the door before she had the high heeled pumps on. When it sounded the second time she answered.
"Yes? Yes, who is it?"
"Estrada, La Rue. Could I talk to you a moment?"
"I'm not decent."
"Hell, neither am I. Let me in."
She unhooked the halter bra and carried it in her hand to the door. She unlocked it and pulled the door open.
La Rue giggled as she looked at the nude Estrada.
You surely ain't decent, man. But you don't look had. She handed him the bra. "Fasten me in back, will you?"
She helped him adjust the bra over her breasts and he fastened it.
She stepped back and looked at him. "Estrada you need to lose about 40 pounds, get a hairpiece and learn how to keep your cock hard. Now, what the hell do you want?"
"La Rue, you sure know how to live." He stepped toward her and reached for her breast. She pushed his hand away.
"First, big boy, what's the Hap?"
"You said Abigail had that Charles Russell, right?"
"Right, I saw it. She bought it, brought it here and wrapped it up to store so the Feds won't find it."
"Just checkin'." He licked his lips. "Baby-pussy, when you and me gonna hit the mattress?"
"Like I told you, Estrada, after you get the picture. I don't fuck for free!"
"You gotta be great in bed, just great." He glanced down. "Look at that damn prick of mine, he must smell your sweet pussy!"
Estrada grabbed her and pulled her tightly against his rising penis.
"Damnit, La Rue. How about a quick bang right now, then when we get that painting, we'll have a slow all-nighter."
"No picture-no pussy," she said pushing him away.
"Let's go see Abigail," she said. "Let me tell her face to face she has the picture and see if she can deny it."
"Damnit, La Rue, you're always putting me down." He frowned and looked at her. "Baby, I guess you're worth waiting for a couple more hours. I think we got old Abby half wild now. Just a few more stabs and she should talk like a stuck record."
They went to Abigail's room. Estrada opened the door. He went to the bathroom when he saw she wasn't in the room. His face was angry when he came out.
"She ain't here."
"Try the closet, she may be hiding in there, or under the bed."
They looked everywhere, but no Abigail. Estrada rubbed his hand roughly over his chin.
"Where in hell...." He left it hanging and ran to the window. Under the curtain he found the open window. He slammed it shut and swore.
La Rue laughed. "Don't worry, Estrada, where can she go? It's still raining out. Dal has the speed boat and she's a lousy swimmer. She'll be back shivering and cold and miserable."
"Hell, that's two of them I've lost in ten minutes," Estrada said pulling on his pants.
"What does that mean?"
"Lupe is missing too. Thought she was hiding in the kitchen but we can't find her. Looks like she konked Karl on the head with a rolling pin."
La Rue giggled. "You two big strong bullies sure know how to handle two defenseless women. One hides, hits your man, the other one runs away. You guys are lousy hold up men, you know that?"
"This was supposed to be a snap!"
"Some snap," La Rue said. "Let's see how Karl is."
She led the way into the living room and into the kitchen. Karl had recovered enough to sit up in the chair. He held the cold cloth to the back of his head.
"Old horse cock met his match, I hear," La Rue said, patting his crotch.
"Somebody hit me from behind, what'n hell you expect?"
"I expect a man to act like a man. Bet you $50 I can find Lupe in one minute flat."
"You must know where she is," Estrada said. "Dig her out, now!"
La Rue shrugged, opened the pantry door and went inside. The bins were the swing out kind with enough room to hold 25 sacks of potatoes. La Rue pulled the middle one out and lifted up on it. It was empty and unhinged. She pulled it into the room leaving a gaping hole. La Rue looked through the hole and grinned.
"It's all right, Lupe, you can come out. These men won't hurt you. They gave me their word. Come on out."
Estrada looked at Karl and frowned. Karl stared at the empty bin.
"How's I to know it come loose that way?"
A brownish tan leg emerged. By the time the other leg came out, the dark blue skirt was over Lupe's waist and her white nylon panties were exposed. In a moment she was out and sat on the floor, a nervous smile on her face. She looked at La Rue.
"They seared me, Miss La Rue. Afraid they were going to hurt me like they did Miss Abigail. I heard her scream."
"Lupe, they won't hurt you, I promise." She came closer and helped the girl stand. She lowered her voice so the men couldn't hear.
"You wouldn't mind a little kissing and petting and loving, though, would you? Karl is a lot of man. Think how he would feel inside you!"
Lupe's expression of fright changed slowly and at last she smiled. "Isn't he something?" She smoothed down her skirt and grinned. "Miss La Rue, you promise he won't hurt me?"
"I promise." She raised her voice. "Let's get out of here and back to Abigail's room. She's probably back there by now."
But she wasn't. They looked again in the hiding spots.
La Rue held up her hand. "Hold it. I know one more place she might be hiding. I'll go see if I can find her and if she isn't there, we'll unlock the front and back doors and just wait for her. She'll get cold in a hurry if she's still outside."
Estrada caught her around the chest with his arm and put his hand over one breast. "You be sure to come back, we've got some unfinished business."
'Just keep it in your pants, cock-hound. I'll be hack."
She went out the door and closed it, then hurried down the hall and into La Rue's room before anyone could see her. She locked it, and tore off the wig, plucked off the false eyelashes and wiped the makeup away. She made the change to Abigail quickly and confidently. She hid the La Rue costume and makeup and took an old target pistol from a dresser. She edged the door open and hurried to the front hall.
She heard nothing as she slipped out the front door and left it so it would lock her outside.
As soon as it clicked shut she moved into the rain and stood there, letting it splatter her robe and bare feet and her face. When she thought she was damp enough, she went to the front door and pounded on it hard.
She rang the twisting type door bell and pounded again. Abigail Vandecovering was shivering by the time Karl came to the door. He opened it.
"It's her!" he shouted behind him and grabbed one of her wrists, pulling her inside.
Karl paraded her to the bedroom like a wet war trophy.
"Here she is, all wet and sagging," Karl said. "Where you been all the time?"
"In the garage. Nearly froze to death. Can I get into some warm things?"
Estrada gave her a robe but before she put it on she pulled the pistol out of the pocket of her robe and aimed it at the two men.
She noticed Lupe for the first time. The girl was sitting on the bed, trying to cover her breasts. IIcr blouse and bra were off, and her skirt on the floor. Her face showed wariness rather than fear.
"Get away from her, Karl. Lupe, put on your clothes so we can tie up these two rapists and thieves."
CHAPTER NINE
Lupe slipped on her blouse and skirt while Abigail held the revolver.
"Move over beside Estrada," she said to Karl. He moved. "Lupe, get that parcel post twine from the utility closet." Lupe ran, buttoning the blouse as she went.
"It won't work, Abby-baby."
"Why not, Estrada?"
"Because you don't have the guts to shoot me." He began walking across the bedroom toward her. "You've never shot a human being, probably never even shot a hand gun before. So just hand it to me, I'll take care of it."
Her hand shook, and Abigail reached out to hold her wrist. She waved the muzzle of the pistol crazily. She backed up a step, then another as Estrada came toward her.
"I'll do it Estrada. Remember when you raped me. I told you I'd kill you. You take one more step and I will."
Something in her voice stopped the man. He watched her closely. She was desperate, she just might pull the trigger. But Estrada knew his situation was desperate too. If these two women did tie them tip, keep them here until morning, they would be in prison for a long time. He had to risk it.
"Karl, move over there and walk toward her. She can only point that gun at one of us at a time. When it's aimed at you, I move. When she swings it to me, you move ahead."
Karl hesitated, then moved to where Estrada pointed.
"Stay where you are, Karl," Abigail said, swinging the weapon toward him. He stopped but Estrada took two more steps toward her.
She turned the weapon against Estrada, and he stopped. Estrada was within an arm's length of Abigail when Lupe came back into the room. She walked silently and knew what to do. She ran into Estrada with her shoulder and knocked the man down.
She struggled with him for a moment, then pulled his arm behind his back and sat on him.
"I had seven brothers. I had to learn how to wrestle to live," Lupe explained.
Karl had stopped his advance. He laughed at Estrada.
"Beaten down by a woman," Karl said between guffaws. "Wait until I tell the hoys about this!"
"Shut up and got that gun, or the only boys you'll ho talking with will ho wearing prison gray pants."
Karl's eyes widened. "Hey, you're right. They could nail us for a couple of things." He watched the gun in Abigail's hand, then laughed. He walked toward her, his hand out.
"I'll take the gun, Abby-pussy. The game is over."
Abigail looked at him coming and pulled the trigger. There was a faint click as the firing pin jammed. She pulled the trigger twice before Karl ran her down. He pushed her to the floor and took the hand-gun, breaking the cylinder open.
"It wasn't loaded."
"How in hell did you know that?"
"I looked. You can almost always see the rounds in the cylinder of a revolver. I didn't see any in the five chambers. I gambled 20 years against a quick funeral that the sixth chamber was unloaded too."
Lupe let go of Estrada's arm and slid off him. Estrada got to his feet.
"After this we don't let either of these broads get out of our sight until we can get out of here." Karl nodded. "You son-of-a-bitch, Karl. You sure had more guts than I did. Going after that gun. I thought you'd bought the big one." He looked at the girls. "Man, you got a reward coming. Take either one you want, any way you want."
"Yeah," Karl said. "First I got to compare the merchandise. You unwrap that one, and I'll open up this package."
A few moments later the girls were both nude, and Karl stood them side by side. Lupe was six inches shorter than Abigail and heavier. Her waist was almost lost in the firm flesh of her torso. Lupe's breasts were still young and slightly upthrust. Her legs, heavy and a patch of shining black fur covered her crotch.
Karl shook his head, nuzzled his face into the breasts of each girl in turn, and finally caught Abigail's hand.
He pulled her to the bed. "It's been most a year since I had a good blow job, baby," Karl said. "And you just been elected." He stripped off the bedspread and forced Abigail on her back. Karl nuzzled her breasts again, then made her sit up. He chewed on the delectable mounds again before he pushed her on her back.
Karl straddled her, sitting just below her breasts.
"Last time we had a tit-fuck, right? This time you get to take it in your pretty little mouth." His knees pinned down her shoulders. His big balls lay in her cleavage. He rubbed his penis over her breasts until the nipples glowed and stood tall, lie came off her.
"Turn over on your stomach and face me," he said. She did, and the terror shot through her like fire in a dry field. 'He can't expect me to put tlutt filthy thing in my mouth! I'd die first."
He knelt in front of her and when she looked up his heavy scrotum scraped her nose. His penis towered over her head.
"Go ahead, get acquainted with him. Cuddle him up some. Touch him with your hand."
Abigail couldn't move.
"Now!" Karl barked and slapped her rump, hard.
Her hand reached out and touched the long shaft. Her fingers moved to the top and the ridge where the skin had been cut back, and on to the purple head. It looked big as a man's arm. She pulled her hand back.
Karl stood on his knees and moved closer to her. He held his cock down until it was level with her mouth and edged forward.
"Kiss it, Abby. Give Peter here a little smack."
She didn't move and his hand hit her hard again.
Slowly she moved her lips toward it. 'NO. I can't. It's too filthy!' But her lips kept moving, brushed against his tool and came back quickly.
She waited for the reaction. She didn't feel any different. She didn't want to throw up. No bile boiled in her stomach. She reached out and kissed it quickly, this time after wetting her lips. Nothing happened.
"Come on, Abby, you can do better than that. Really kiss him. Unless you're afraid."
She reached for the penis, and her hand pulled it toward her. She kissed the purple head, and felt it quiver. Her tongue came out and circled the tip. Karl groaned. She turned her head and held the tool and licked the skin-tight head from point to ridge. Abigail lathered it with her tongue and marveled at the tiny orifice at its tip. This was where new life spurted out!
She kissed the tool again and wondered what it would be like to have it inside her. Slowly she opened her lips and felt the tip touching her upper palate.
At once she closed her mouth and pulled it out. She felt nothing. No disgust or revulsion or fear.
She tried it again and this time let the whole purple head vanish into her mouth. She turned on her side and pushed more and more of the shaft into her mouth. He was so long, so big around!
Farther and farther she sucked in his manhood. For a moment she thought she would gag. But the tip retracted and rested against the top of her mouth, and she tried to relax. When the point brushed her throat she stopped, and let him slip out of her mouth.
Karl had turned on his side. Her head rested against his hard holly. He was moving his hips gently hack and forth. She reached for his penis. He needed a home, a hole. She could take care of him!
She tried to think what she had just done. Had she actually put his, his cock, inside her mouth? She felt different somehow. She turned and looked up at Karl.
"Who am I?" She asked.
"Baby, you're great. That was so smooth, and so deep into you. You're gonna be a great blow-job expert."
"But who am I?"
"You're my sweet little cocksucker. Get our friend here back inside."
"Am I like La Rue?"
"Hell, no. You're better than La Rue."
"Am I sexy as La Rue."
"Baby, right now, you're twice as good as La Rue!"
She smiled at the idea. Sexier than La Rue! She bent her head again, and watched his penis, now wet and slippery, and jumping. She took it in her hand and rolled toward it. Again she kissed it. She engulfed it into her mouth slowly.
When the head had vanished into her mouth, Karl began to move his hips back and forth gently. Abigail felt it moving inside her and stopped her own motion. She let him push it in as far as he wanted to. It scraped the back of her throat. It felt like his penis was going down, but it didn't. She looked at his big hairy balls and reached for it. She fingered it carefully, finding the two seed pods in the wrinkly bag and played with them gently.
Karl's movements speeded up, and he pushed into her faster. She grabbed the shank of the rod to hold part of him out of her mouth. She stroked the shaft, while sucking hard on the head of his cock.
Karl's hips pumped faster.
"Oh, baby, it's coming! Get ready for the ride of your life. I'm gonna go to pieces in just a minute. Hold on, don't lose me now!"
She felt his hands grab the back of her neck forcing her to take all of him. He thrust his cock deep into her throat. She gagged, choked and gasped for air.
"Sweet mother of tits and pussy, this is the best!"
He rammed it into her hard. His hips thrust against her and his long tool threaded into her throat. His pubic hair tickled her nose.
Abigail sensed the very first of the semen when it spurted into her mouth. It went down her throat before she could stop it. The next gushing she caught and held it, wondering at the salty taste.
His penis rammed down her throat and gained her. She bit him hard and he yelled and came out of her. She gaireed again and her stomach turned over. She vomited on the floor beside the bed.
Karl rolled away from her, still breathing hard.
"Great gobs of girl-pussy, but that was fine!"
Estrada snorted. "She didn't like your taste, she arfed you all over the place." He had been busy during the time Karl had been on the bed. Estrada had taken off his pants and was teasing Lupe. Her breasts were both wet from his mouthing and her nipples stood erect.
Abigail ran to the bathroom to wash out her mouth. Karl watched her.
"What the fuck, we having a party and we ain't got even one bottle." He looked at Lupe. "You know here there's a bottle around this house?"
She nodded.
"Get your little ass out of here and go get it," Karl snapped.
"Let's move into the living room," Estrada said. "We can build a fire in the fireplace and fuck around on that big rug."
A few minutes later they all sat on the nig in front of the fire Karl had built. Lupe brought a bottle of whiskey and Karl tipped it up and drank it straight. Estrada took his with water.
"Hey, Abby. I talked to La Rue, like you told me to. She told me again, you bought the painting.
Said you hid it around here so the income tax people wouldn't see it."
Abigail shook her head. It must be Abigail, he keeps calling me that,' she thought. She bh'nked once, twice, and the room came into focus.
"Estrada, if La Rue said it's so, count on the opposite. I told you she's a psychopathic liar. She'd say white was black if she thought you'd believe her." Abigail shook her head. "I tried to get her to go to a head shrinker."
She watched the fire.
"If I had that painting right now, I'd insist you take it." The tears came. She tried to stop them. She cried and cried and when the room stopped spinning, she found she was flat on her back, with her head on Lupe's soft legs. Lupe had been singing a lullaby she remembered her mother used to sing. For a moment Abigail wasn't sure who she was. She felt her hair and saw it was short and black. Then she knew for sure, she was Abigail.
CHAPTER TEN
Abigail shivered in the chilly room and moved closer to the fireplace. She was fine again. There was no doubt who she was. She remembered the affair with Karl and her neck reddened. It had seemed so natural, so right. 'Did I actually let him ejaculate in my mouth?' She knew she had.
She looked at his penis now. It drooped between his legs. It was long and limp now, so soft and useless looking. Estrada's arm was over Lupe's shoulder. He played with her breasts and occasionally pushed his hand down her leg. She laughed and stopped him, but her laugh was getting longer, and each time she let his hand stay at her crotch longer.
Karl had claimed the bottle. He kept drinking steadily. They watched the fire and warmed themselves for half an hour and Karl became dninker every minute.
Abigail watched Karl. If he got drunk enough and passed out, she and Lupe could clobber Estrada.
"Karl," Abigail said, tugging at his arm. "Bet you can't drink two fingers from the bottle without taking a breath." She held up her first two fingers pressed together. "That much, two fingers."
"Hell, Yes. Can do. Watch." He tipped the bottle and began gulping down the whiskey. As he took the bottle away from his lips he almost passed out. All he needed was a big lungful of air. They looked at the bottle. He had done it.
Abigail began setting the trap. She stood and went near the window to look out. It was still raining, and the wind was blowing, but it had eased. The worst was over.
She pushed the coffee table in front of the window and lured Karl to come see it. He looked at the table with bleary eyes, not really understanding. He turned around with his back to the window to talk to Abigail. She lunged ahead and hit Karl with her hands in the chest.
The big man blinked his eyes in surprise and stumbled back a step. The coffee table hit him in mid-calf and he yelled as he fell backwards. Only a thin curtain covered the window and Karl crashed through it. He tumbled to the ground outside, three feet below.
Estrada jumped up when he heard the crash.
Lupe leaped to her feet too, and before the man could turn, she had jumped onto his back like an ambitious tiger. Abigail ran to help. Crabbing one of Estrada's feet she pulled it up until she tipped him off balance and he and Lupe crashed to the floor. Lupe hit on top of him and knocked his wind out.
Lupe held him down. "Get the twine from the bedroom," she said. "We'll tie him up." .
Abigail ran to the bedroom and came back with the cord. They pulled Estrada's hands behind him and tied them. The front door bell rang and someone pounded on the door.
"That's Karl," Lupe said. "He can't get in that way. Is the back door locked?"
Abigail said it was. She thought what a strange sight they made. Two nude women trying to overpower a naked man, while another nude male ran around outside in the wind and the rain trying to break into the house.
"What the hell...." Estrada had found his breath. They rolled him over to his back and Lupe sat on his legs while Abigail tied them with twine.
"Abby, untie me. God damn it, Right now!"
She ignored him.
"Abby, let me go! Or when Karl comes back we'll hold you down and slice off one of your tits."
"If Karl couldn't get in the back door, he'll probably try a window," Lupe said.
"Unless he's too drunk," Abigail said. "I should have let him finish that bottle before I pushed him through the window."
Lupe scurried toward the bedroom. Abigail watched her go, wondering what she had thought of. The Mexican girl returned quickly with the revolver.
"I just remembered this. Do we have any bullets?"
"Somewhere. Dal insisted I have it for protection. That was a year ago. Where did we put the shells?"
* * *
Karl had landed on his back in the soft sand when he crashed through the window. He blinked several times and felt the rain in his face. It took him a few seconds to realize what happened. His drunken brain worked slowly. When he knew he was outside, he looked back at the window. Too much glass left in it to try to climb back through.
He rolled and tried to stand up, but fell into the wet sand. He tried again, going to his hands and knees, then standing slowly. He made it. Walking was harder. He had hit the bottle a little too hard. He slowly worked his way around the house. It took him five minutes to get to the front door. Stumbling badly, he at last got up the three steps to the front door. It was locked, lie rang the hell and pounded on the door. No one came.
Karl sat down on the step and tried to think. What to do next? lie wanted to go to sleep. Hut the nagging voice of Estrada came in his memory and he knew he had to get hack inside and help the little man. When it came to defending himself, he was as talented as an old maid school teacher.
Karl stood slowly and walked around the house. He was cold now, the wind cut into his bones, and his balls tightened up. There must be another door. He searched for the back door.
Karl tried the back door. It was locked. He looked at the door and grunted. Two hinges, very old. He could kick the door apart. He stepped back to kick at the door, but when he raised his foot, he slipped and toppled over backwards onto the muddy grass.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" Karl muttered as he crawled to his feet. He went to the door again, but this time he stopped two feet away from it before he lunged with his shoulder. It groaned but held. Backing up slowly, Karl tried it again and one hinge sprung free.
Once more he ran at the door and this time it broke loose and he fell inside. Beyond the door was darkness. Only a thin, faint sliver of light peeked from under another door ahead. He took a cautious step inside the room and stopped.
It seemed like some kind of a storage shed that had been built on the back of the kitchen. It was old and unused. Stumbling ahead with his hands in front of him, Karl worked carefully toward the splinter of light. He fell twice before he made it.
He swung his arms and breathed very heavily, trying to force more oxygen into his system. Even still drunk he could take care of two naked broads. He hadn't even touched Lupe yet. She looked like young and tender pussy. He grabbed the door knob and turned it, easing it open. So far, so good. He stepped into the kitchen. There was no light on, only the faint glow coming from the living room.
A glaring beam of light stabbed into Karl's eyes, blinding him. At the same time he felt something wet hit him and splash over his chest and face and running down his body.
"Turn out that damned light!" he roared.
He took a step ahead toward the offending beam, but something came between his legs and he stumbled and fell into a jumble of pots and pans and buckets on the floor. Karl sat on the kitchen floor feeling drunk and foolish.
"Karl, I have the pistol again, and this time it's loaded. See."
The crack of the .22 pistol exploded through the room.
The roar of the gun sobered Karl. He realized that they must have tied up Estrada. If he couldn't do something soon, he would wind up in prison. He was never going hack there! He laid down as Abigail had told him, but watched her closely.
The room lights snapped on and blinded him again. Two hands snaked a rope around his ankles and began to tie. He lashed out with his feet and felt them connect and drive the person back. He kicked away the rope and jumped up.
Lupe hit Abigail's arm as she fired. Karl charged at Abigail who stood in front of him. She was dressed and held the gun with both hands. She had a chance to fire again, but she didn't. She couldn't. It was too late, Karl slapped the revolver away from her and knocked her to the floor with one swipe of his big arm.
He looked for Lupe. She huddled on the floor by the wall. She held her breasts and looked pale.
"You didn't have to kick Lupe so hard in the chest," Abigail said. "You can hurt a girl that way."
"Shut up."
He looked around the kitchen. "Abby, make me some coffee."
"Make it yourself!"
"You want me really to slap you around? Now get up here and make some coffee!
Abigail stood and took out the percolator and coffee. She made eight cups, it would take longer that way to be ready. Both the women had clothes on.
Lupe groaned and sat up.
Karl picked up the gun and checked the action. There was another round under the hammer. He moved it back to an empty chamber.
"You'll live, Lupe. Don't worry about a kick in the tit. Women are tougher than they make out." He walked toward the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror.
"What in hell?"
Karl's chest and chin were jet black. Splotches of black pocked his face and long black trails ran down his stomach and his legs.
"You throw acid on me you cocksuckers?"
Abigail turned and laughed. "We wouldn't do anything like that, Karl. It's just a little remembrance of tonight. It's a permanent black dye. It'll take you at least six months to wear that off."
"But it's black!"
"Karl, try to be a little more tolerant and understanding. Don't you know black is beautiful?"
"You're a one-titted whore, Abby. Before tonight's over my black cock is gonna get into your pink pussy." He looked around. "Where's Estrada?"
"He's all tied up right now, in the living room," Abby said.
Karl herded both girls in front of him into the next room. Estrada was there, tied and gagged, in front of the fire.
"These two prickly pussies too much for you, Estrada? I should leave you that way for a while."
He made both women sit down on the sofa while he got a knife and cut the cords. He pulled the gag out of Estrada and the little man sputtered.
"Goddamn whores. Who in hell told you ... Karl you big ape, where you been? Drunk again." He looked at Karl closer. Estrada snickered, then he roared into laughter.
"Karl, this is our last job together. Be damned if I'm gonna work with a fuckin' half-nigger!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Abigail took a blanket from the hall closet and Karl draped it over the broken window. Lupe put more wood on the fire. Estrada sat there rubbing his wrists. He was angry. He got up and walked back and forth in front of the fireplace talking to himself. When he turned to the other three he had his mind made up.
"I still think that damned painting is here. And I still know a few games to help you remember where you hid it, Abby-baby. Are you going to dig it out for us, or do Karl and I keep on playing games?"
Abigail turned her head away from him, ignoring his very presence.
"Lupe, go bring in the coffee and some cups," Estrada said. She stood immediately and went into the kitchen. Karl followed her.
"Take your clothes off, Abby. Time we had another long talk." She didn't react to his order. He moved in front of her, a switch blade knife appeared in his hand. The blade snapped out with a deadly gleam.
"You going to strip, or do I cut your clothes off you?"
Abigail looked at the knife, then at the man, and peeled off the sweater. She wore nothing under it. There hadn't been time. She waited. Estrada motioned with the knife, and she pulled the stretch pants off. She was completely naked.
Lupe and Karl came back with the coffee.
"Take your clothes off, Lupe," Estrada said. "You don't want to be the only oddball here, do you?"
"Yes, I do." she said.
Estrada flicked out the blade of the knife again and Lupe watched it. She took off her blouse and skirt, and she was as naked as the rest.
"Now, Miss Abigail Vandecovering, well known landscape and marine painter, I have a proposition for you. Bring us the painting now and you and Lupe won't be bothered the rest of the night. It's about midnight. When you wake up tomorrow morning, we'll be gone and you'll never see us again."
He smiled. "Now, isn't that fair? But if you don't bring us the painting, you and Lupe will go through a whole series of exotic sexual experiences that you'll remember the rest of your lives." He waited a moment. "Which is it?"
"A lady doesn't say what I'm thinking, Estrada!"
"You're no lady, you're nothing but a dumb cunt!"
Estrada pushed Lupe down on the rug and rolled her on her back.
"I never did fuck you, did I Lupe? We were just getting cozy when that dumb cunt messed things up."
He lay beside her, one hand on her stomach, the other near her breast. He turned to Karl.
"Bring old fancy tits over here and make certain that she watches everything we do."
Karl grinned and dragged Abigail over to the rug. He sat her down, crossed her legs and moved her within a foot of Lupe's waist.
"Now, Abby-cunt, some basic instruction for you. Most women have three highly sensitive areas of their body. Lips and mouth, tits and cunt. Many experts say the best spot to work on first in seducing a girl is her lip-mouth complex."
Estrada rolled toward Lupe and covered her lips with his. She resisted and tried to scream. Her mouth opened and his tongue plunged into her. He licked her teeth, and lips. He teased her tongue to come into his mouth and then sucked on it. Lupe's tongue hesitated, then followed his lead, and crept into his mouth. He played with her again, their tongues touching and parting, fighting. Estrada pulled away from her lips and looked at Abigail.
"Good girl, you were watching. Learn something. Amazing how much a good tonguing will do to melt down the old reserve."
He laughed at her expression. "The next step usually is the A.O.B. move, or the Assault On Breasts. In the average adult female this is a problem, because most wear clothes. Scoop necklines help and front-button blouses, but in this case we don't have the clothes barrier, so we can get right down to the old tits."
Abigail looked at Lupe's face. She was in no pain, in fact Abigail thought it looked as if Lupe were enjoying this attention.
"A gentle massage around the breasts themselves is often valuable. It stimulates the surface blood cells and increases circulation. At the same time it helps the cute little cunt to get used to the idea of having your hands on her precious body." As he talked Estrada worked his hands around her stomach, neck, sides, but never touching the twin mounds.
"Now we come to what it's all about, the good old tits, the breasts, the mountains of melody, the sacks of saccharine, the happy half-hemispheres. Right here is where you make it or goof. If you at tack the old boobs too fast, before the cunt's blood is at least starting to get warm, endsville!"
His hand curled softly around Lupe's breast as Abigail watched. She felt hypnotized. The hand circled the mound, then came away and stroked it gently on the underside. The fingers worked slowly, moving up the side and then down. It took two or three minutes for his hand to work all the way to the top of the mountain of soft flesh, but he never touched the aerole or nipple.
Estrada's hand moved to the other breast and repeated the warming up. His hand hovered over the breast for a second, then glided down and caressed the areole, rubbing it gently, then harder and harder, as it blushed a deeper shade.
"Notice how the nipple responds to a little loving. A vital step in a smooth seduction. Of course the whole process up to here should be carried out in absolute silence. This allows the subject time to get used to the idea that she's going to be fucked, that what she's been hiding and protecting for so long is ready to have its day, to explode into flower. When done correctly the second time with the same girl will be much easier, and her resistance will melt faster while her insistence grows quick His finger touched the nipple. Already it had started to respond to the caresses around it. When his finger touched the purple bud it rose and blushed and strained forward. He rubbed it for several seconds, then snapped it twice with his finger and Lupe moaned.
He kissed her again, and her mouth opened almost immediately. Their tongues twined in a battle of love.
As he kissed her, Estrada's hands worked their way down Lupe's sides, again massaging, kneading their way with twinges of warmth.
His mouth left hers and dropped to her breast. Lupe gasped. His teeth caught her nipple and chewed on it slowly, tenderly. His tongue washed off the rough surface of the areole and at last flipped the proud nipple back and forth.
"Notice the gasp of pleasure when I kissed her breasts? Oral stimulation of the breasts is one of the most potent weapons in the seducer's arsenal. Sometimes the hand stimulation can be totally bypassed if the oral operation is going to be extensive."
He grinned at Abigail. "Sorry this is such a cram course for you. You should have learned all of this ten years ago in bits and pieces in stolen moments behind the garage or in the bathroom or in the back seat of a car. But since you had an underprivileged childhood, we'll do the best we can."
His hands wandered down Lupe's torso to her hips and down to the insides of her legs.
"At this point the danger is in rushing. Hell, she's hot, time to throw the meat to her! Not so. Two definite steps must be followed here for most women to experience an intra-vaginal climax. And that's the best kind. First should come titillation of the upper thighs. Now we're getting down to the serious work."
His hands ran lightly over her soft inner thighs, scampering up almost to her crotch, then coming down.
"The big idea here is to excite the little woman, make her think that every move you're make, you're going to fuck her.
Estrada kept his hands moving and Lupe squirmed.
"Notice the reaction, Abby. Lupe here is completely sold on the idea of a good fuck. She tries to get me to touch her pussy with my hand."
He worked on her sensitive upper thighs a minute more, then quickly his hand darted into her soft, wet outer vaginal lips.
"Oh, darling! Do that again! Oh, sweetheart that feels so good," Lupe murmured.
Estrada grinned at Abigail. "Listen to the little girl beg for it."
He fingered the wet lips and feeling her warm juice start to flow. His fingers circled the outer labia, and worked closer. At last he found the tiny bud of the clitoris and kneaded it.
He tweaked it. Lupe groaned and her hips heaved as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Her hips trapped his hand between their bodies as the first spasm came. Lupe groaned and gasped and reached with her mouth to find his. She came again and again and again until Abigail thought the poor girl would shake herself to pieces. Was that what a climax was like?
The earthquake passed and Lupe pulled the man higher on her.
"Come inside! Oh, please come inside and make me feel good. Please come in and fuck me. Hurry, now. I want it right now!"
Estrada looked at Abigail as he knelt between Lupe's raised knees. "What can I do but do what she tells me?" He slanted his penis toward her crotch, then stopped. Pulling Abigail toward them, he made her look at Lupe's pulsing, wet vaginal lips. They were dilated.
"Now ain't that a pretty sight, Abby?" He pushed her back and slid his stiff tool inside the lips. They swallowed him and he dropped forward. She took all of him with a gentle sigh. Her legs came up and locked around his back.
Estrada grinned. "Now that's what I call good technique. Look at this little cunt fuck! Watch her, Abby, and you can learn plenty."
Estrada lay against the darker skinned girl and forgot about the lessons. He was caught in the passion the girl below him was calling up. He leaned on his elbows and took one of her big breasts in each hand and struck deep into her with his divining rod.
Abigail blinked only once as she watched the two bodies working together. His pounding hard and straight into the scabbard, and Lupe grinding her hips from one side to the other, pushing her breasts up high for him, and panting mouth-open, waiting for his tongue to claim her mouth as it's home.
Abigail saw his buttocks tighten as he rammed harder, heard his breath come fast and short and saw his hips pounding into her so fast she could hardly follow the strokes. With one last groan he grabbed her and held fast. When he finished his arms folded and he lay against her breasts, totally exhausted.
Abigail watched and nodded. She had learned something. She knew La Rue could give him a better time than that. La Rue would stretch it out, tease him, make him wild to get into her instead of the other way around.
'But I'm Abigail' she thought. 'I'm Abigail, I'm not a slut like La Rue." There seemed to be a strange wetness at her crotch. It puzzled her. She had become aroused watching Lupe and Estrada and had secreted some vaginal lubrication. What was happening to her? She wouldn't become a loose woman like La Rue. She was aware that someone had spoken to her, but she wasn't sure who it was.
She turned as Estrada stood. He wiped his limp penis with a towel.
"Now that you've had the lecture course, Abby, good old Karl will work with you in the laboratory session. That means it's time to get your pretty pussy tickled again."
Karl grinned at her. He held his hard penis in his hand, and winked.
"Estrada. I'll show you where the painting is," Abigail said.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"She's trying to trick us again," Karl said. "Are you, Abby?"
"NO. No tricks. You want the painting, you'll get it-if Lupe and I get to lock ourselves in the bedroom."
"Why not? I told you two hours ago you could do it that way."
"And I want everyone to get dressed. I'm going to catch cold this way."
"No," Karl said. "No clothes."
Estrada nodded. "He's right. That would just waste time. No clothes and we all go together."
Abigail turned away from them. The memory of Karl's huge penis terrified her. How could anything that long, that big around possibly fit into a woman? It would tear her apart.
At last she nodded. "Upstairs," she said and they followed her.
She went first and moved to the canvas cupboard while they came up the narrow steps.
"You looked up here, but not very well. La Rue probably helped you. She simply isn't very bright." Moving slowly to her right as she talked, Abigail came to within reach of a wall switch for the overhead light.
"If you'll lift the front off that cabinet that holds the canvas...." She waited for them to move to the cabinet area. Her hand slashed down at the light switch, jolting the room into total darkness.
"Told you it was another damned trick," Karl snarled.
"Get out your lighter. Strike a match. Get some light in here," Estrada sounded half panicked.
"No clothes on, where am I supposed to carry a lighter?"
Lupe giggled.
"She was over that way, must be a light switch over there," Estrada said. He began moving in the direction he last saw Abigail. On the way he bumped into Lupe. He grunted in surprise, then put his hands up and touched her breasts. "Lupe?"
"Si."
"Save your strength for another fuck. You were great." He stepped past her and shuffled toward the wall. It was nearly three minutes after Abigail switched off the light before Estrada found the wall switch.
Abigail wasn't in the room.
"She's slippery than a teenage cherry," Karl said.
Estrada took over and they searched the studio again. First they tried the canvas cupboard, but nothing moved. It was solid. Estrada stood where Abigail had been just before the lights cut off and tried to figure what she did. The door to the stairs was still closed. He tried it and the handle rattled, the latch snapped and a hinge squeaked. She hadn't gone that way.
He pounded the panels on the wall until his hand ached. He was stumped. At last they went back down to the fireplace and drank coffee.
Karl spit into the fire and caught Lupe by one breast.
"I bet you know where she is, brown cunt. You know about the hidden panels and everything in this house."
Lupe shook her head.
Karl held his limp penis up toward her. "You want me to rape you with old Horse Cock here?"
Lupe spread her legs and leaned back. "Oh, yes, now!
Estrada had moved behind the girl. He stepped toward her and slammed a short, side of his hand chop over the girl's kidney. She dropped to her knees, pain stabbing through her face. She tried to talk but nothing came out.
"Lupe, I know how hard I hit you. You'll be fine in about two more minutes. In the meantime you think hard about something. If we don't get what we want here, you could wind up with a tit sliced off or maybe even dead. You think about that."
She winced as she spoke.
"I don't know where she is. She never told me about any secret panel or passage ways or anything. I wasn't here when she had the remodeling done."
Estrada took out the switch blade knife and showed it to her.
He laid the blade against her breast and slowly pressed down. A half-inch slice glistened with blood on her right breast.
"Think again, Lupe. Where is she?"
Lupe didn't look at the blood on her breast. She stood and walked into the kitchen, then to the pantry. She picked the big bin from its place below the counter and looked inside. She motioned to Karl. He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled partway into the opening.
"I'll be damned!" he said from the interior. "There's a big space in here with a chair and a bottle of water and canned goods-and a fuckin' ladder that leads up somewhere."
"That damned little schemer! Karl, there's Only one room upstairs. You wait a minute, then go up the ladder. I'll be up in the studio to see where she comes out."
Estrada ran up the stairs and waited. A moment later a section of the wall near the light switch swung inward and Abigail stepped out. She held one hand behind her and immediately walked toward Estrada.
"Are you out of your mind? You filthy, sex-maniac? How can you go on doing this to Lupe and I? Don't you have any compassion or understanding at all? Don't you know how a female reacts?"
"Come on up, Karl, I got her by a tit up here." Estrada yelled. Then he laughed and reached toward her. She stepped back, continuing her tirade.
"I've known some very lewd characters in my day, but you Estrada, are the lowest. You're a degenerate, a mental case, an exhibitionist, a rapist, a ... a"
She paused as Karl pushed Lupe ahead of him into the studio.
Abigail jumped toward Estrada and swung her left hand at his face. His hands reached up and grabbed her band. Estrada laughed at her. Abigail pulled her right hand from behind her. She held a bronze letter opener with the point of it forward. Before Estrada could pull down his hand she lunged ahead with all her weight behind the letter opener. Estrada seemed frozen in place. Both his hands were high, as the blade pierced his stomach just under his ribs and drove upward toward his heart.
Estrada started to scream but the sound died in his throat. His hands dropped to clutch at the bronze handle sticking out of his ribcage. His eyes rolled toward the nude woman in front of him before his mouth sagged open and he fell sideways to the floor.
Lupe screamed. The sound bounced around the open-beamed ceiling. She turned and pushed her face into Karl's chest. His arms came around her. Karl's mouth opened, but he didn't say a word.
Abigail turned to Karl. "Take Lupe downstairs and put some clothes on her. She's going to catch cold."
Karl rubbed one hand over his face and looked at Estrada. "Shouldn't we see if we can help him...."
"We can't, Karl. He's dead. Only the good Lord can help him now. He wouldn't listen to me. I told him there was no Charles Russell here. I told him I would kill him. Now take Lupe downstairs."
Karl turned to go, but stopped.
"You don't give me orders. I took them from Estrada, but he paid me good. Now I'm on my own, and I'm gonna make the most of it."
"Karl, don't force me to kill you as well."
"You won't, good pussy, cause I know where I left that .22 pistol and you don't." He smiled gaining confidence. "Downstairs, both of you, while I figure this out."
He herded them in front of him, pushing Abigail. She did not resist.
Back in the living room he told them to sit down on the sofa. He sat between them and petted their breasts.
"Here I am with pussy on the left of me and pussy on the right of me, and I can't make up my mind." He stopped and listened for a minute. "Hear that? The wind has died down, the rain has stopped. By 4 a.m. I'll be able to cut out of this place. I'll get to the car and drive away."
He stood and walked to the fireplace, then came back and sat between them. "I'll take care of Estrada before I go and no one will be able to tie me to this place at all. Estrada. What in hell should I do with him? Could lug him out in the bay. That would hold him for a day or two. By that time I'll be in Canada."
"You know there's no Russell painting," Abigail said.
"Hell, yes. I told you that."
"Then let's get dressed and act like civilized people instead of sitting around here nude catching cold."
"You're sure worried about catching cold." he said.
Abigail noticed Lupe rubbing her hand on Karl's leg. She watched in fascination as his penis began to grow. All talk stopped as Karl felt the ministrations and moved his hands to the women's breasts again.
"Oh, that's the way, sweet tits. Make him long and hard for me."
Abigail didn't believe it. His penis was eleven inches long, and as big around as her wrist! She had that in her mouth? It grew and grew and grew.
Lupe's hand snaked down to his crotch and played with his scrotum, then gently she clasped the long rod.
Karl grinned at Lupe.
"Glad at least one of you cunt's isn't frigid. Man this little chili pepper is hot as a tamale!"
His hands moved from her breasts to her legs and worked up to her crotch. Lupe's legs yawned wide apart for him. Abigail could feel her cunt getting warm and moist.
"Look at it this way, girls. I'm stuck here for two, three hours yet. I've got nothing else to do but have some fun with two bare-assed broads. Way I look at it you got to get as much as you can as often as you can, cause before you know it, you might end the way old Estrada did."
He turned toward Lupe, her mouth was open by the time his lips came to hers. He kissed her, then pulled away.
His head rolled the other way and he kissed Abigail. She didn't move.
Karl stood and watched the two. He reached for Abigail and pulled her to her feet.
"Abby-pussy. I've never fucked a woman who just killed a man with a butcher knife in cold blood. I wonder how it would be?"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Abigail slapped him. He caught her arm. He spun her and quickly had her arm locked behind her back.
"Now why get so huffy? I told you I'm gonna let you and this other crack go first thing in the morning. You got no consideration at all."
He picked her up and threw her on the rug just below the big dining room table. He pulled the print tablecloth off and ripped it into strips and tied her hands to the heavy table legs.
She curled her legs and tried to kick him but he pushed her down and lay on her.
"You are a lousy whore, Abigail, honey. I shouldn't even try to warm you up. Should just slap the goddamned meat into you dry and burn your fuckin' pussy out." He laughed. " 'Cept I won't, cause then I'd be sore for a fuckin' week."
Lupe sat there admiring Karl's big prick.
Karl's hand caught Abigail's breast and he stroked round and round the whiteness of the mound. He felt the soft super-structure and the harder part underneath. His hands were tender at first, molding the breast, shaping it, caressing it. His hand crawled slowly toward the pinnacle and when he topped it he found the nipple already hard and ready.
"Hell, you might be learning something after all," he said. He moved to the other breast and it too was warm and responsive.
His mouth found hers. Abigail held her lips tightly together. Slowly he licked her lips and wormed his tongue toward hers. Gradually she let his tongue part her lips and slip between. Her teeth bared the way.
He fondled her breasts and licked her teeth and the inside of her lips. She opened her teeth and his tongue stabbed into her. Her mouth met him and their tongues clashed and battled.
Abigail didn't know why she tolerated his caresses. She had opened her mouth more out of curiosity than anything else. What could it hurt? He had raped her. She felt his lips leave her and go to her breast. The gentle motion of his mouth over her breast seemed to wring something from her. He chewed on the nipple and the pain stabbed through her very soul. But as he did, she felt herself warm all over. He pulled as much of the large breast as he could into his mouth and sucked on the now tender nipple. She wished she could feed him, nurse him with her untapped milk.
Abigail tried to stand off and watch herself doing this. Was this really her? How could it be? She had been so careful, so shrewish all through art classes and avoided the boys with the wandering hands.
His hands crept across the flatness of her stomach, and she knew he was reaching for her furry "V". She felt his hand slip around the fur and slide down her leg. Nerves made her leg jump from his touch. He whispered something to her that she didn't understand.
Abigail looked down past the naked man and noted that she had lifted her knees and spread them wide for him. Was this her? How could she? Her body was turning on her.
She sensed his hands massaging the soft inner thighs close to her snatch. The warm surge washed over her again and she moved her hips in a slow circle under the weight of him. Her crotch felt damp and sticky.
A soft moan slipped from her as his hand touched the softness of her wet outer lips. She moved her hips again and his finger slid back and forth across the petals. She wished her hands were free so she could hold his long rod, to help him find a home for it.
His finger touched the nub of her clitoris and she tensed. He strummed it again and again. Abigail knew this was what sex was. She felt the tremors begin deep within her being and radiate outward.
Wave after wave of the spasms shook her and she gasped for breath, her hips grinding and pulsing and pushing upward against his hand. Karl kept strumming on the tiny clitoris until her last racking spasm passed. Her pussy was soaked, making ready for a bigger intruder.
He moved down and kissed her. Her lips were open and waiting. Karl slid forward and let the largeness of his penis head spread the lips and tissue, slowly.
Abigail knew nothing could top the thrill of her climax, yet when the tool touched her lips and brushed against her clitoris she felt she was on the merge of another climax. Karl moved it slowly in and out, each time forcing it farther into her, expanding her more and more.
When it slid past the open lips, Karl jammed it forward slowly. Abigail groaned and tears of joy splashed down her cheeks.
"Karl, lover, do that again. Do it again, Karl!"
He brought it out and repeated the stroke and she felt herself climaxing again. Karl pumped it into her faster and faster.
Karl felt something beside him and when he turned he saw Lupe laying next to Abigail. Her hips were even with his head. Lupe had pushed a pillow under her hips and spread her legs.
She leaned up on her elbows and smiled.
"Karl, kiss my other lips. Kiss me good!"
"Crazy! I knew I could take both of you at once!"
Karl leaned down, put his arm over Lupe and settled his face between her thighs. Her outer lips were wet and extended. He licked them and she nodded. He bent lower and licked her again. Her hips flayed upward at him and his tongue went back to her sweet cunt. He kept up his rhythm, pumping into Abigail. She didn't seem to notice Lupe beside her.
Karl searched for the tiny bud. His tongue found it and twanged it and Lupe moaned. He hit it again and again and Lupe's crotch pulsed up at him as she shook in a quick, strong climax.
Karl came away from her and looked at the V of pleasure. He wondered if he could really ram his tongue right down inside her. He pressed back her outer labia and pushed his tongue in. It slid in easily and he rammed it in harder. He pressed until his teeth chewed into her nether lips.
Lupe climaxed again, and Karl felt her interior muscles grasp and release his tongue. He swept it around and around inside her and at last came away.
The same moment lie knew he had to blast off. lie leaned back to Abigail and found her mouth and Dressed into her.
The lava flowed down the long tube. Burning as it came, he pumped to put out the fire. It seared up his penis and spurted in molten fire as his seeds jetted into her.
Karl tried to pull away, but Abigail's legs had twined around his and he stayed there, falling heavily on her breasts.
Lupe stirred first and stood up. She picked up her clothes and went into the bathroom. Karl got up and found his clothes. He untied Abigail from the table and helped her stand up. She walked to her bedroom and into her bath. Karl went with her. He watched her wash herself and put on clean panties and bra and a heavy wool robe. Karl had dressed as she did and they sat on the edge of the bed. They walked back to the living room.
Karl built up the fire.
"What will you do now?" he asked her.
"What do you mean, Karl?"
"Now that you're not afraid of sex anymore? You were afraid of it, you know."
"Yes, I know. I learned at a very early age to be afraid of sex. Now I know it can't hurt me, or maybe I'm sure it can destroy me."
Karl said he didn't understand.
"Tonight, just now, was the most thrilling physical experience I've ever had."
"But sex is 90% mental attitude," Karl said.
"Sex is physical, a release, a pressure valve. But I am an artist. Art is mental."
"But you like to fuck."
"That's all physical. The animal vitality of it!"
"But not mental?" Karl shook his head. "I'm confused."
"Sexual intercourse is mental, dry, deadly. Fucking is fun. Simple." Abigail said.
"That sounds like La Rue. Where is she? I still don't see how she can disappear in a house like this."
"She comes out when she wants to. I never fight with La Rue. It's a losing battle. She's a very strange person. She's a strong, dominating personality."
"I agree," Karl said. "I want to get you two together."
"Don't hold your breath."
Karl reached over and put his arm around her shoulder. She stiffened, then laughed and leaned against him.
"Better, much better. Getting a little physical again." He leaned his head against hers.
"You said a while ago you had been taught at a very early age to be afraid of sex. By your mother? Or did someone rape you or what?"
"I've newer told anyone. Not even my psychiatrist. I don't see why I should tell you." She paused, then shrugged. "Why not. It was late one night. I was undressing in my bedroom and a man burst in.
"Right in your house?"
"Yes. He threw me on the bed and ripped off his clothes and chewed my breasts and played with me, then he raped me. He stayed all night and did it to me four times. I thought I'd die."
"But you didn't. Did they catch the man?"
"No."
"Did you report him?"
"No."
"For chrissakes, why not?"
"He was drunk, didn't know what he was doing."
"So you let him get away pussy free?"
"I guess he suffered enough afterwards. The man was my father."
"My God!"
Lupe came back, dressed in a long pink nightgown. Abigail knew it was the sexiest one she had. She smiled at the girl. It was a big night for her.
"Shall I make some tea or coffee?" Lupe asked.
"Two-thirty," Karl said looking at the big clock. "Make a pot of coffee sweetie. I could use a hot, black cup."
"You may never drink it," a man's voice said from the front hall.
Dal Anderson jumped into the living room. He held a claw hammer in one hand and vengeance in both eyes.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"The sailor is home from the sea," Karl said. "We really didn't expect you till morning."
"I bet you didn't."
"Dal, you can put down the hammer. Mr. Estrada is dead, and Karl is waiting for the tide to go out so he can leave. There's no problem."
"You going to let him walk out of here free and clear?"
"He hasn't stolen anything."
"Abigail, did he rape you?"
"Well, yes, I guess you could say that."
"Then he's going to pay!"
Karl jumped to his feet as Dal came surging forward. They circled each other in the living room. Karl grabbed a dining room chair and charged at Dal. Dal swung the hammer, smashing one of the braces from the chair.
"Dal, stop it!" Abigail commanded.
"I don't take orders from you anymore, Miss Abigail. I give them here now. I just talked with your father in New York."
"My father," Abigail said, feeling faint. She backed up to a side of the room.
Dal lunged ahead, feinted one way and then pinned Karl against the wall. His hammer locked against the back of the chair. Karl twisted the chair and threw it to one side, ripping the hammer from Dais grasp.
Both men stalked each other for a moment. Karl stepped in and pounded Dai's head with a solid right, but suffered a stinging left from Dal on his nose.
Karl attacked again, aiming for Dai's stomach. He missed and took another sharp right hand on his jaw. Karl shook his head and came again, this time in a carefully timed lunge that broke through Dai's defense of fists. Karl whipped his big arms around Dai's chest.
Dal stumbled over a chair and both men tumbled to the floor. As they hit the floor Karl lost his grip. Dal had taken the brunt of the fall and Karl nailed him again, falling onto Dal before he could stand and flattening him to the rug. Karl grabbed one of Dai's feet and bent it back in a painful toe hold. Dal whipped his arm around, slamming it into Karl's side, again and again. Dal flipped him off and struggle to his feet.
Dal moved in on Karl as he stood. He chopped a right hand to his chin and a roundhouse left into his eye. Karl took another fist into his face but surged ahead. He pinned Dal to the wall with his shoulder. He hammered blow after blow into Dai's ribs and stomach. Karl stepped back and swinging hard planted a smashing right hand to the point of Dai's chin.
Dal went down in a heap on the rug and didn't move.
Karl looked at him, blinked and let his hands fall to his sides. His knuckles red with blood. He stumbled to the couch and sat down. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply trying to regain his breath. He stood carefidly and found his jacket in the front hall. He took the snub-nosed .38 pistol from the pocket and came back.
Dal had stirred and sat up bent over holding his ribs. He looked at the .38 and shook his head.
"I won't give you any more trouble."
"You do, and you'll be licking up your own blood. Now get off your ass and come upstairs. Something in the studio we have to take care of."
It was a slow climb up the stairs for Dal. When he saw Estrada his face blanched.
"I thought she was kidding about Estrada being dead." Dal touched the corpse's temple. The skin was cold, no pulse beat there. "He's dead all right."
"Pull out the knife, Dal."
"No, he'll bleed more. I've got to get him out of here and the blood all cleaned up." He looked at the stairs, then at the window. "Open that window, she told Karl.
"Open it yourself, I've got the gun."
"It won't stay open in the wind. You open it and I'll throw Estrada out."
Karl shrugged and pushed open the window. Dal picked up Estrada's shoulders and dragged him to .the window. A long line of blood marked the path. Dal pushed his shoulders of the window sill, put his hands and arms under the dead man's back and shoved him into the darkness.
"Who killed him?" Dal asked.
"Abby. She hid and when he found her she rammed that letter opener into him."
"He probably deserved it," Dal said. "Now, I've got to get rid of the body for a long time. You better come along, Karl. I'll have to use the boat.
"Dump him in the bay?"
"In the channel. We'll tie him down with something heavy."
Karl followed Dal downstairs to the front door and to the garage. Dal took two five gallon buckets that had been filled with concrete. They had pipes in them for holding up a volley ball net. They carried the heavy buckets to the boat landing and set them in the center of the 14-foot outboard.
Dal went back to the garage and brought strands of heavy wire. He wrapped one end of the wire around each handle of the buckets.
Estrada had landed in the sand at the side of the house. Dal picked him up and carried him to the dock. He slid the body into the boat. He pulled the letter opener out of the body and threw it far out into the bay.
Five minutes later they were in the middle of the channel. Dal worked quickly, wrapping the wire from the bucket handles around the legs of Estrada. He would be lunch for a school of barracuda long before anyone found out.
When the wire was tied firmly, Dal rolled Estrada's body overboard. He and Karl each hefted one of the buckets and swung them over board at the same time. Estrada's body was lost in the murky water.
Karl took the .38 out again. Dal knew there was no chance to jump him.
It took him almost half an hour to get rid of the blood stains on the window and on the floor of the studio. He covered the remaining spot with some red oil paint and then put a piece of linoleum over it.
"O.K. Dal, downstairs." Karl said.
"You say nobody knew you were coming here?"
Karl hesitated. "There might have been one guy, but I'm not sure who it would be. I know Estrada talked to somebody by phone yesterday."
Dal listened. He nodded. "Just so there's no big announcement from anyone that they knew Estrada was coming here and that was the last time anyone saw him before he disappeared."
"Free and clear. And I'm not about to talk. I don't want to face that rape charge she threatened me with."
"I can put up with you for another hour, Karl. Because I know by then you'll be running fast. Your black face and all."
"I'm not waiting an hour. Give me the keys to the boat." Karl held out his hand.
"You flipped, Karl? I dropped them in the bay as soon as we docked. I look that stupid?"
Karl lifted his hand to hit Dal, but changed his mind. "Get downstairs and sit on a chair and shut up.
They found both women sleeping on the sofa, Lupe still wore the sheer nightgown under her robe. Karl pointed to a chair for Dal. He sat in it.
Karl knelt on the floor beside Lupe on the couch. He moved her hand gently and opened the robe to reveal her breasts. Karl had always wondered if he could seduce a woman while she slept.
He pulled the robe away from her breasts more, and Lupe slept on. His hand touched her breast and he began to caress it through the thin material. Lupe smiled in her sleep and turned toward him.
"Yes, Lupe, Yes it's all right." He spoke the words softly and she smiled again. Karl bent and kissed her lips and she hesitated, then responded. He kissed her again and her lips opened for his tongue.
He put his arm around her and worked his hand through the wide neckline. His hand found her bare breast and he stroked it. The nipples were already stiff and hard with new, hot blood.
Karl's hand caught the nylon nightie at her knee and pulled it up until his hand touched her bare leg. He worked his fingers up her leg and grinned as she parted her thighs. His hand touched her nether lips and he found them already damp.
"I thought you'd never get that far," she said. "You're slowing down in your old age." She snuggled closer.
"You little fart. You were awake all the time?"
"No," She giggled. "Not until you kissed me." She reached up and kissed him. "Let's move down on the rug where we've got more room."
Lupe moved to the rug and slipped out of her robe and nightie. She lay on her back, knees lifted and spread wide. She held out her arms to him.
"Karl, lover. Come take me."
"Hell, Lupe it was more fun when you were asleep."
"I'll show you a good time awake, Karl. Come on. You getting to be an old man? I thought you could come four times an hour."
"I'm sure as hell not sexy-sixteen any more.
Look." He pulled down his pants and shorts. His penis drooped downward, soft and unexcited.
"I can bring him around," Lupe said reaching up.
Karl stepped back. "How about some fresh meat? A cock that hasn't had a fuck all day? Don't move."
Karl went over to Dal.
"You started it, you finish it." He said when Karl walked up.
"I've still got the gun, remember. Now come on.
Dal walked over and looked down at Lupe. A vein in his forehead jumped.
"That's pussy, Dal. Hot and ready to go. You're elected to jump in."
"Not on your life."
"Dal, please?" Lupe said. "I want you to, Dal. Just like that other time. Darling, please come in me. Come in me or I think I'll die!"
"You want her to beg you, Dal? What kind of a man are you?"
Lupe had stood up quickly and began unbuttoning Dai's shirt. He pushed her hands away. She took his hands and put them on her breasts and went back to the fasteners.
His hands were quiet for a moment, then his fingers began to nib her breasts and to play with her nipples.
by the time she had his shirt open he pulled it off, then dropped his pants and shorts.
"Why not?" Dal said as he lowered Lupe gently to the thick rug near the fireplace.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Karl watched Dal moving his hands over the faintly brown breasts, then turned toward Abigail. She still fascinated him. So ripe and lush, yet so reluctant to let herself go. How would she react when she was asleep? She hadn't stirred during their talking, and now she turned a little and cuddled deeper into the pillow on the sofa.
He sat beside her carefully and put his hand on her arm. She moved it a little, then lay still. He rubbed her arm, then pulled the wool robe apart at her breasts. Karl held his breath but she didn't react.
He slid his hand inside the robe and touched her bra. She moved her shoulders but relaxed. His hand cupped her breast and he thought he saw the trace of a smile. Rubbing her breast through the bra, Karl wondered how far he could go. Lupe had awaken almost at once.
He put his fingers under the top of her bra cup and pulled back on the cloth and edged his hand inside. Abigail shivered, but her eyes remained closed. He petted the breast and felt it respond. The soft nipple hardened and grew rigid. It was working.
Karl moved to her other breast and repeated the process. He leaned against her and touched his lips softly to hers. Abigail drew in her breath, then her lips softened and he pressed firmly against her mouth. To his surprise her lips were open allowing his tongue inside.
He explored her mouth with his tongue and his hands worked down her body. They crossed the whiteness of her stomach and pushed into the soft fur at her crotch. His hands circled the forest and found her legs. They were held tightly together. Karl slid her down on the couch so she had more room and sat on the floor beside her. His hands gently massaged her legs and they slowly moved apart. He massaged the white skin below her panties on the inner thighs and stroked it, slowly her legs relaxed and he edged them apart.
Karl's hand came up to the softness of the crotch and her panties and he rubbed the moist lips through the thin cloth. Abigail stirred, stretched her arms and then sat up quickly.
"What in the world?"
She stopped when she saw Karl's hand on her leg. "Don't you ever wear yourself out?" She watched him. "Have you been petting me while I've been asleep?"
He nodded. "I just had the most wonderful dream." She sighed and reached down to remove his hand.
"Tell me about it," Karl said.
"I was feeling very good and this man was making love to me and he had his face ... I mean he actually put his tongue...." She stopped and laughed.
Karl put his hand back on her nether lips. "He had his mouth down here? He was eating your pussy?"
Abigail nodded.
Karl caught the tops of her panties and pulled them down.
"A dream is fine, Abby, but let me show you how it really feels."
She caught the panties with her hand and hesitated. Then she let go the panties and he pulled them off.
Karl looked at Dal. He was kneeling between Lupe's thighs now and just entering her. He pointed and Abigail looked, glanced away and then turned back to watch. Karl dropped down beside Dal and whispered in his ear.
Dal looked up and grinned. "Why not?" he said.
Karl helped Abigail off the couch to the rug and positioned her beside Lupe, with her buttocks resting on a pillow slightly past Lupe's head.
Dal leaned across Lupe and lay his head on Abigail's leg. Karl turned Abigail on her side facing Dal and lifted her leg in the air. Dal nosed into her crotch, stabbing at her with his tongue, finding the sweet juices of her nether lips and lapping it up. Fie licked her and touched her clitoris and pumped into her glory hole.
Abigail had never felt this way before. She lay on her side gasping with pleasure each time Dai's tongue touched her. He was actually licking her cunt. She shivered and the moment his tongue touched her clitoris she exploded in a shower of star fire.
His tongue darted in again and brushed the inner lips and another skyrocket went off, blasting her into an orbit of pleasure and passion that she had never dreamed of.
When his tongue bored into her vagina, Abigail couldn't believe it. She writhed beneath him, thrusting her hips forward against his delicious tongue, trying to force it into her farther.
A new sensation crashed in on top of all the rest. It was like nothing she had ever known. First she felt something touching her low, but in back of her nether lips. It was small and moist. It moved round and round and it broke into her. It was at her anus!
A mellow warmth flooded through her. She relaxed as much as she could and the tiny probe at her anus worked to enlarge the opening. The more she relaxed the harder the probe bored in. She felt it swell and grow and her ass hole seemed wide open now. A larger object touched her there. It slipped slowly against the sides of her rectum and gently forced the anal muscles to expand as it moved into her.
Abigail almost cried. The pleasure-pain of it was excruciating. She felt like she was having a bowel movement and climaxing at the same time.
She never knew when Dal came away from her crotch. She knew she had rolled over on her stomach, and the long probe had stretched her opening to its fullest. It was Karl with his long penis pushing it into her. His was so huge, so big, she would surely split!
But the intense pain passed and she sensed the probe moving within her. It didn't go far until it hit an obstruction and stopped. It began to move back and forth. He was trying to climax in her rectum!
Abigail felt the pleasure of the contact flood through her again. 'Who am V she asked herself. She didn't have a mirror to look in. She was lying beside a couple in the middle of a fuck. She had just had a man licking, eating, probing her vagina with his tongue, and now another man was doing it to her in her ass. She knew one thing for sure. She wasn't Abigail. Abigail would die before she would let anything like this happen. Then who was she?
'Who Am IF She asked herself again. She wasn't La Rue, because La Rue had long blonde hair. Hers was short and black. 'If I'm not Abigail and if I'm not La Rue, who am I? Am I dead?"
She watched Lupe at her side shaking and moaning in the ecstasy of a climax. It was disgusting, yet it was glorious, wonderful too. Who am I?"
She felt the man thing inside her throb and pound harder. As the hot semen spurted into her she caught the spirit and her own body shook with a climax that left her troubled and spent. 'Who the hell am IF she wailed.
As the large penis drew out of her, Abigail fainted.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Lupe slept on the couch, huddled in her robe. Abigail lay on the floor where she had passed out. Karl had removed the pillow from her hips and put it under her head and spread a blanket over her.
Karl and Dal sat on chairs near the fire, drinking coffee. They watched the wood fire burn.
They had reached an armed truce. Karl still had the gun, but he didn't have to use it. Dal would be glad to get Karl away from the place to keep any connection with Estrada far removed from Casa La Playa and Miss Abigail.
"Never figured you to take off in that boat early this afternoon," Karl said.
"I never figured to go very far," Dal said. "Planned to head out a ways, then beat back to the strand and come back to the house. The swell and the wind were more than I figured. About 100 yards off shore I turned back to the strand, but the tide and the wind blew me to the mainland. I got back as soon as I thought I could make it. It was still a hell of a hard pull."
"One other thing worries me, Dal. Where is that damn La Rue? She could spoil the whole thing."
Dal grinned at Karl, "if you don't know about La Rue yet, you'll have to figure it out by yourself."
He went to the window and looked out at the half light of the cloudy night. "You could probably make it across the sand now, but you'd get your feet wet," Dal said.
Karl shook his head. "I'm gonna have to travel fast enough once I hit the highway. I don't want wet and sandy shoes."
Abigail stirred, sat up. She stretched and looked at the fire, then at Lupe and the two men.
"What the hell is going on? This a mass rape scene or something?"
Karl turned around quickly. "Your vocabulary sure did change with some sleep."
She stood up and wrapped the robe around her.
"Fucking cold house! Told her to get some better heat in this old barn. Did she? Shit no!"
"You had quite a little nap," Dal said walking up to her. "You feel better."
"I always feel good, Dal honey. Why shouldn't I?"
She turned her head and touched the short black hair.
"What in hell? Who cut off my hair? Who's been fucking around with my hair?"
She went to the mirror in the living room and stared into it. "Who Am I?" She asked it. The mirror didn't answer. "Who in hell am I?" She said again.
Abigail ran down the hall and into the second bedroom. She picked up the blonde wig, the false eyelashes, the make up kit, her light blue panties, the mini skirt and the halter. Retracing her steps the woman walked into the living room and dropped her collection on a chair near the mirror. With deft hands she fitted the eyelashes on, and put on the eye make up. She took off her robe and white panties and slipped into the blue ones. The mini skirt came next. She shrugged into the halter and fastened it in back. She looked in the mirror.
"Who am I?" she asked. There was no reaction. She slipped on the blonde wig and pinned it securely in place. Now she turned to the mirror, set her arms on her hips and thrust out her chest. "Who am I?" She asked. "I'm ... I'm a woman. I'm not that bitch Abigail. I'm La Rue! I'm La Rue, a fast pickup. I'm La Rue the best piece of tail in town."
She watched the reflection in the mirror again, and her face froze in a sneer.
Karl stood by the fireplace. He had been amused when Abigail brought in La Rue's mini skirt and halter. He wondered about the blonde wig. Now he took a step forward, an amazed, unbelieving expression on his face. "Abigail?" he said.
La Rue continued to stare into the mirror as she adjusted her skirt upward.
"It can't be." Karl said looking at Dal. "Abigail is the direct opposite of...." His voice trailed off. "But I never did see them together. One disappeared before the other one came out."
He stared at the woman at the mirror.
"La Rue," he commanded. "Turn around."
She turned. "Karl, lover man, you still here? I thought you would have grabbed that painting and ran."
"Aren't you Abigail," Karl said.
She walked over to him, her hips swaying, her full breasts pushed out toward him. Her hand caught his crotch and rubbed his genitals. She pressed in close to him until her breasts crushed against his chest and reached up to be kissed.
Karl couldn't respond. His mouth fell open and he stumbled a step backwards.
"My God! It's been you all the time!" He moved away another step and looked at her. "All the fuckin' time it was one woman. When you were La Rue you told us to wear down Abigail with sex! And all the time you wanted us to do it to...."
"Karl, what are you blubbering about? Where's Estrada? I promised him some cunt time, and it's getting late."
"You don't remember about Estrada. The letter opener?"
La Rue shook her head. "But I've got a spot where you could knife something into me."
She walked toward him, hips swaying. She reached behind her back and slipped the catch on the halter. It fell off one breast, then slipped off the other and down her arms. La Rue caught the garmet in one hand and twirled it as she wiggled across the room to him.
Karl looked at Dal. "Hey, what's going on? This whole damn place is crazy? You knew about this crazy broad all along? Lupe too?"
La Rue unzipped the mini-skirt and let it fall to her feet. She stepped out of it and ran the remaining distance to Karl. She caught him around his legs and knealed in front of him. She began licking the bulge at his crotch.
Karl slapped her and pushed her away.
"Crazy bitch! Goddamned crazy whore. Get away from me!" She crawled after him.
"Come on Karl, let me play with you. Let me suck your horse cock." She pulled the blue panties off and threw them at him. La Rue spread her legs to him, a shy smile on her face.
"Come to mama, Karl. Come to mama's good pussy. Come lick me, Karl!"
Karl bolted for the front door. La Rue ran after him. He jerked open the door and ran hard across the grass to the sand. The tide's waves still lapped over the strand, but a clear path showed between the surges. Karl ran through the sand and water, splashing into the waves when he had to.
La Rue leaned on the door watching him. She was breathing heavily.
He didn't stop running until he was on the other side. Karl turned and took one look at the old house on the strand and ran again over the sand dune and out of sight.
La Rue laughed. "Did you see him run? Like he was running home to his mother. Did you see that cocksucker run?"
Lupe had gathered up the clothes she took off and brought them to La Rue. She led the laughing woman down the hall and into the first bedroom.
A moment later the door burst open.
"Goddamnit I said no! Not in that frigid bitch's room. I'm La Rue and I'll stay in my own room." She looked for Dal and saw him near the fireplace.
"Dal, this afternoon we'll pack Abigail's things. I'm sending her away. She infuriates me so." She looked at him, and a tear ran down her cheek.
"I didn't mean to kill Abigail, Dal. You know that. But she was such a bitch, so frigid and dumb. I've always hated her. I just couldn't stand her any longer."
Dal took her hand and led her to La Rue's room. She went in and slipped on the shorty pajama top Lupe gave her.
"I didn't mean to kill Abigail. She was dumb. I had a knife and I ... I just pushed it into her stomach. I don't even remember seeing much blood. Her eyes weren't angry with me as she died. I think she thanked me."
Tears streamed down La Rue's cheeks. "You don't think she was angry with me, do you Dal?" She pulled him down beside where she sat on her bed. "Dal I don't want you to be mad at me. I know you took her body and dumped it into the channel. I hope you put big rocks on her. If she comes up somebody might get mad at me."
"Why don't you sleep now, Miss La Rue," Lupe said. "You'll feel better tomorrow."
La Rue reached out and put her hand on Lupe's breast.
"You've got nice tits, Lupe. Did I ever tell you that?" She looked up. "Could I kiss your bare titties?"
Lupe lifted the sheer nightgown and bent forward. La Rue lowered her head. She bit the breast hard and Lupe screamed.
"Lupe, you stay away from my man! You can fuck around with Dal all you want to, but you leave Karl alone. You servants just have to be put in your place now and then."
La Rue turned to Dal. "Karl, sweetheart. Take off those silly clothes and get into bed with me. I want to go to sleep with you inside me. Hurry!"
Dal nodded to Lupe and she left the room. He stripped quickly and lay beside her. La Rue's hand found his penis and she rubbed it until it was hard.
"Come in me, darling Karl. Make me cum. Make me feel good. Karl, you're so good. So good. Let Lupe have Dal. Who cares. I've got you, Karl."
She kicked off the covers and wrapped her legs around his back as he slid into her. Dal was exhausted. He'd been up almost 24-hours. Maybe Karl could come six or eight times a night, but Dal knew he couldn't. He might manage once more.
But La Rue wasn't looking for any embellishments. He sensed that she didn't even care if he climaxed. She wanted him inside her while she went to sleep. His climax came quickly and she dropped her legs. In five minutes she was sleeping. Dal unwound her arms from him and her legs and came out of her. He knew now exactly what to expect in the morning.
* * *
Morning dawned bright and clear. The sun had burned away the last smattering of fog. It was a beautiful day. A long strip of dry sand connected the house with Land's End. There was no trace of footprints along the crest of the sand.
No one stirred in Casa La Playa. Dal woke up at 10:30. He dressed and looked in quietly on La Rue. She was still sleeping, her knees drawn up tightly against her chest in the fetal position.
Dal saw Lupe in the kitchen watching some morning TV show and sipping coffee. He wasn't ready to face her yet. Not after everything that had happened.
He slipped out the front door and looked toward the bay channel. It was undisturbed. No body bobbed in the swells. No police launch with gappling hooks. He took a deep breath and walked toward the strand.
The motorcycle lay half buried in the sand twenty feet from the dune grasses. How in hell did his bike get out there? He kicked sand away from it and then dug with his hands. It took him half an hour to pull it free.
Back in the yard he turned the hose on the bike to wash as much of the sand and salt from it as he could. The engine was probably ruined. Abigail must have used it to try to make a run for it last night. What if she'd made it? he thought.
He went back into the house for some rags to wipe down the bike with when he heard a scream. It came from the studio.
Dal took the steps two at a time and rushed through the door. Lupe had screamed. She pressed herself against the wall, and La Rue held a knife in front of her throat.
"Karl, get this woman out of here. She told me I couldn't slash up Abigail's stupid paintings. With Abigail dead, these are mine. I inherited them. I can do any goddamned thing I please with them."
Dal nodded to Lupe who slipped down the stairs.
"Mis La Rue, you sure have earned the right to smash up this whole studio. But I wonder if that isn't exactly what Abigail hoped you would do. I bet if Abigail were here she'd demand that you tear up and burn her paintings. You know how jealous she was of everything she had painted. She would say why should you benefit from selling her work."
La Rue paused and then pushed the paring knife through the landscape she had been slashing and shredding.
"Karl, you're right. She would beg me to destroy them. Why shouldn't I? That crazy bitch. I earned them."
La Rue threw the knife down and dropped the unframed canvas. Her hands covered her eyes for a moment and she began crying. Tears streaked through her eye makeup and made rivers of gray down her cheeks.
"My daddy used to say he earned things. The night he broke into my bedroom he said he earned it. He called me Patricia and he rammed his big cock into my tender pussy, and he said he'd earned it. Said he'd worked a long time. Wanted to go away. Said he'd earned a little fun."
She touched Dai's face and kissed his whiskery cheek. Her arm went around him and she pulled tightly against him.
"He stayed right there and fucked me all night. I was so sore I screamed. When he sobered up toward morning he was still inside me. When he saw it was me, he rolled out of bed and took my .22 revolver he gave me and shot himself in the head. Why did my daddy kill himself, Karl?"
Dal eased her down the stairs. "He was tired, tired and old, and he missed having his woman to love."
"I'll always have you to love, won't I Karl."
"Yes, you will, La Rue."
She kissed him hard and her tongue tried to worm into his mouth.
Dal pulled away and laughed. "But first I think you better have some breakfast and then take your medicine."
"Yes, Karl."
* * *
An hour later La Hue slept quietly in her bedroom. The sleeping pill in the milk had done its job. Dal sat down in the kitchen and kissed Lupe.
"Is it over?"
"All but the shouting. All but the collecting."
"I'm sorry about Estrada," she said. "He owed me a favor."
"Not that big a favor. I couldn't get to her before she used the knife."
"Estrada earned his Emmy award for that performance. He even had me believing he was a real art gallery owner."
"And Karl didn't know what was going on?"
"Not a word. Estrada said he had used Karl before on small jobs. He knew Karl was a cockhound and had a good tight mouth."
"He won't talk?"
"Not a word. Not even if he does read about it in the newspapers."
Lupe poured strong black coffee for both of them.
"And you thought it would take three nights to break her," Lupe said. "Whammo! The first night."
"If it holds," Dal said. "That's our big worry. If she comes to this afternoon still as La Rue and still thinks I'm Karl, we've got it made."
"And if she still thinks she killed Abigail" Lupe said. Lupe spun around, her skirt flying and Dal reached out and grabbed a handful of her buttocks.
"Tell mo again, how much, Dal?"
He drained the cup and grinned. "Not sure. T couldn't get too nosy. When the old man set up the trust fund for her it was $300,000. Then about 90% of his estate went to her 13 years ago. That must have been another $600,000."
"A good trust fund manager could double that in 10 years, Dal. We're talking about two million dollars!"
"Are you sure the will is all legal?" he asked.
Lupe nodded. "I went to town with her two months ago and witnessed it. She left everything to you as her loyal and faithful employee. There's no family to contest it."
"Two million dollars!" he breathed.
"One thing puzzles me," Lupe said.
"What's that?"
"How did you get Estrada so bug-eyed about that painting. I swore that was the only thing he was interested in.
"I told him there was a Charles Russell that she kept hidden. If he could find it he would get the $10,000 plus the painting which really is worth $40,000. Estrada liked money almost as much as he did girls."
"But now he's gone."
"That was a stroke of luck. He was the weak link, the only one who knew that we hired him to come out here and terrorize Abigail until she went stark raving mad. Now, he's no longer a weak link."
"When is the little drowning accident to take place?"
"No hurry, baby. We got to plan that one so it is fool-proof. That's the final act."
"We'll need a body and the right witness and the whole thing, right?" she asked.
He nodded.
"And in the meantime you get in La Rue's pants every night. You've wanted to for a long time. Was she any good?"
"She was O.K."
"Was she better'n me?" Lupe pulled off her blouse and came to him. She had on no bra and rubbed her breasts in Dai's face.
"Is crazy La Rue better pussy than me?"
"She's pretty damn good."
"I'm better."
"Prove it."
Lupe unzipped her skirt and dropped it to the floor. She had on no panties. She pulled the catch open on Dai's pants and stripped them down. Lupe almost tore his shorts as she tugged them over his hard penis.
When the long penis popped out she went down on it, taking it deep into her mouth and biting the tender head with her teeth. Dal began to move and groan. He pushed it in and out of her mouth.
She pulled him out of the chair and dragged him to the floor and fell on top of him, wriggling around until his tool lanced across her sex lips.
She rubbed up and down against him, and kissed him hard, ramming her tongue into his mouth.
Dal growled at her and rolled her over. He pushed his prick into her quickly and Lupe grinned. Her legs came up high until they rested on his shoulders and she was almost standing on her head.
"Now, Dal, sweetheart. Fuck me good!" Dal heard a chair scrape behind him and he turned.
"Don't get up, children," La Rue said. "Enjoy sex while you can. It's your last time for both of you, so love it while you can."
La Rue stood in the doorway, the .22 pistol in her hand.
"Yes, Karl, I know how to use it. I told you to stay away from this bitch, didn't I? So I've got two million dollars, do I? Why didn't that slut of an Abigail ever tell me?"
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"Go on, Karl, crack your nuts one last time. Be a shame for her to die with a live cock still inside her."
"La Rue, you don't understand. It was all a line, just so I could get into her pants. You've got to believe me."
"And the will and the accident, that was just a line too? What do you say Lupe?"
Before the girl could reply La Rue shot her in the left temple. Lupe died instantly.
Dal came out of her in horror and scooted away from both women toward the wall.
"Strip, Karl. Take it all off. Everything!"
"Miss La Rue, I can explain...."
"Karl, take off your clothes and shut up!" La Rue and the smoking gun left no room for argument.
* * *
Ten minutes later La Hue had directed Dal to the dock. There were no other boats in sight. Dal lay the body of Lupe in the bottom of the power boat and sat beside her.
"Lay down, Karl. You liked to lay with her when she was alive. Lay with her now." .
Dal was shaking when La Rue threw a blanket over them. What was this crazy woman going to do? She could just as well shoot him and feed him to the sharks off shore.
"Don't worry Karl, I'm not anxious to shoot you. Just don't want any snoopy sailors to see us head out to sea. Lay quiet now."
La Rue started the boat with her own key, and let the engine warm up a moment, then she gunned it and churned away from the dock and out through the swells of the bay entrance into the blue Pacific Ocean. She angled due west; away from the fishing boat areas and went five miles beyond the coastwise shipping lanes.
"Come up for air, Karl," she said.
He pushed back the blanket and not looking at the body beside him sat in the bow.
"Slide her overboard, Karl."
She still held the gun. Dal knelt in the bottom of the boat and lifted Lupe. She was so young. She had been so full of life. He pushed her head and shoulders over the side of the boat and threw her legs over. Dal stood and watched her sink. Her blood would attract barracuda and sharks long before she reached the bottom.
"Goodbye, Karl," La Rue said and shot him twice in the chest. He took one step toward her holding his chest to try to keep the blood inside. She shot him again in his heart and pushed him backwards.
Dal Anderson hit the water with a splash and floated face down for a moment. He drifted under the blue swells of the Pacific and La Rue tossed the .22 pistol overboard.
She turned the boat for shore. "I had to do it," she told herself, trying to dry the tears on her cheeks. "He loved her more than he did me. I had to do it."
A mile from shore she stopped and washed the blood from the bottom of the boat and the side and threw the rags into the sea.
Back at the dock she tied up the boat and walked slowly into the house. Her Karl was gone. Karl really loved her. She should have kept him. But he would have tried to steal her money. She'd go into town in a week or so and get a new cook. A Mexican girl who needed a job, and who was young and had big breasts.
Lupe reached inside her blouse and rubbed her breast as she climbed the stairs to the studio. Her nipple stood tall and firm against her blouse. She should have saved Lupe. La Rue thought about Karl and Lupe on the floor of the kitchen and she breathed faster. She smiled and thought of the two million dollars. With that much money you could buy anything.
She looked at the canvases around the room. What a mess. She'd have to clear out a lot of things.
She found the knife on the floor where she had dropped it and looked at the landscape Abigail had finished the day before. The paint was still wet. She ran her fingers through it and smiled. The knife tore through the tight canvas easily. So easily! She sliced it lengthways and cut it again.
If she had remembered to drink her milk at breakfast this morning she wouldn't have known about Karl and Lupe. They must have planned it from the start.
Such a lot of things to clean up here. La Rue went to the window and looked across the sea. Her Karl was out there somewhere. Her Karl couldn't be dead! She lay on the daybed and closed her eyes and thought about Karl. Her hands rubbed her breasts the way Karl had. One hand crept down her stomach and brushed her crotch. It wormed under her mini skirt and touched the softness of her nether lips.
I don't care if Karl is gone. With two million dollars I can buy anything.' But the hot tears kept splashing against her cheeks.
