Lilith Nordstrom was a very flexible fourteen. She could when it suited her purposes, either squash her apparent age down to twelve or expand it to a grown-up, shrewd and sexy eighteen. Being by nature an entirely - opportunist, and a calculating, little bitch as well, she frequently took advantage of this seemingly miraculous ability, using it either to escape punishment for wrongdoing or to obtain anything she wanted.
The things she wanted would have made and endless list. At the moment, she was being rather a precocious, aware, chic sixteen. She had certain physical attributes that furthered this illusion and, being entirely in the nude, they were all on display. She was alone in her room at the rear of the two-story building that was her home and she was standing at a window that faced the back yard. It also faced the trailer where old Nils Rundy lived. From her lofty vantage point, she could look directly down into his kitchen and quite plainly see what he was doing. He had dropped his pants to his knees and was masturbating himself, while staring up at her with hotly yearning eyes. Saliva drooled wetly from his loose, trembling lips.
"Go ahead and jack yourself off, you nasty, dirty, old man," Lil said aloud, although she knew Nils couldn't hear her. Play with your crumby cock while you stare at my legs and my tits and my cunt and dream your filthy, old dreams. You may as well enjoy it, because that's all you're going to get from me ... ever!" She laughed and there was no mirth in her laughter, only a sardonic and sadistic kind of evil.
She was one of those rare, blond girls who are blond all over, even to the wedge of hair above her crotch. The white, rosy perfection of her skin was an all-over thing too, as was the fresh patina of her youth. At fourteen, she was nearly as mature of body as she would ever be. Delicately shaped legs rose to sensuously formed thighs and womanly hips. Above a narrow waist, she swelled again to accommodate voluptuous breasts. They were soft, yet firm, more rounded than pointed, but with a saucy, upward-and-outward tilt to them. The pink and rose nipples thrust themselves forward like two hard, erect, tiny penises. As she drew her long-fingered, red-tipped hands suggestively up the gleaming contours of her thighs, her blue eyes glistened with delight and her crimson lips curled into a snear of scorn.
"Fucking, old bastard!" she said.
It wasn't that she hated Nils. At least she didn't hate him more than she hated all adults. It was simply that Nils was available and had been foolish enough to place himself in a position that made him vulnerable to her. He had made this mistake shortly after Lil's father, John Nordstrom, had taken pity on the old man and had allowed him to park his trailer in their back yard. In exchange for the donated space, Nils did such chores around the place as lawn mowing, trash gathering and flower gardening. On a hot, summer's day, when Lil had returned from swimming, and had carelessly flaunted her bikini-clad body at him while passing his trailer, Rundy had surprised her by grabbing her and trying to drag her into a nearby tool shed. Confident of her ability to get away from him whenever she chose, Lil had put up a token struggle, enjoying the feel of his hard hands on her breasts after he had ripped the bathing suit top off of her. He had also run a hand down inside the bottom part and thrust a gnarled finger into her, while jabbing at the crack of her ass with his hard cock. But it was no part of her plan to completely surrender her maidenhood to him. At the last possible moment, she had spun out of his grasp, called him a nasty, old son of a bitch, and had run into the house, laughing derisively.
After that it became a contest between them, one in which the rules were firmly established. She would not squeal on him for trying to rape her and he would keep her secret that she revealed her body to him, teasing and tormenting him without mercy. It was also understood that he would be entitled to take her without reprisal if she ever foolishly placed herself in a position where he could get his hands on her again, a thing she had no intention of doing, although she sometimes walked through the back yard at night, or when her parents were not at home, depending only on wariness and fleetness of foot to save her from assult. It was a game she enjoyed, one that broke the monotony of life in what she considered an otherwise very dull, small town.
Lil was a virgin, a rather remarkable accomplishment in a day and age when a virgin has been aptly described as a six-year-old girl who can outrun her nine-year-old brother. Although she was a virgin by choice, it was not through any lack of sexual desire on her part, and certainly not because she was less than desirable in the eyes of the men and boys of the town. She was a virgin because virginity happened to fit into the over-ail plan of life devised by her greedy, scheming, little mind. She conceived of her maidenhead as a commodity, obviously very much in demand. If it were that valuable, she meant to make the most of it. She would retain it at all costs until such time as she received a bid high enough to compensate for its loss.
In the meanwhile, there was always masturbation and the daring game of teasing old Nils Rundy.
Lil cupped her breasts, then let one hand drift down to her crotch. She stood straddle legged and deliberately spread the lips of her vulva, hoping the old man's eyesight was good enough so that he could see the pink, rawlooking flesh within. With the tip of her index finger, she stirred her clitoris, rotating her hips suggestively as she did so. She was rewarded by seeing Nils push his face closer to the window of the trailer and lick his lips with a tongue that was blue-veined on the underside. She giggled.
He stood up then, taking the chance that he might be seen from the lower floor of the house, and presented her with a better view of his cock. It was long and large of girth. From the purplishly tinged head dripped a white, viscous fluid as his hand agitated the shaft of it.
The sight of that naked member deprived Lil of some of her sadistic amusement, replacing it with an excitement that caused her finger to move more rapidly and her eyes to gleam with lust and desire. Not for the first time, the thought came to her, accompanied by a sharp thrill of fear and doubt, that the day might come when she would lose her present advantage in the game. She wondered if the time would come when she would be so overcome with passion that she would say to hell with it and run downstairs to Nils' trailer with only one thing in her mind ... to get herself impaled on that long, hard, delicious cock.
"That'll be the day, you shitty, old fucker," she said without malice. Then, to show her contempt, she turned around, bent over, and spread the cheeks of her buttocks with both hands so that the round, brown button of her anus winked at him derisively. She looked over her shoulder in time to see him having an orgasm, the semen squirting from his cock as he came, his load shooting onto the window of the trailer.
She laughed triumphantly, made the childish gesture of thumbing her nose at him and went to bed. Stretching out on the bedspread, she attended to the serious business of masturbation. She was an adept at the art of selfgratification, having devised numerous methods of achieving an orgasm, but now she resorted to none of those refinements. She was already too far gone in passion to need exotic means of exciting herself. The sight of the gray-white, sticky stuff shooting from the head of Rundy's cock, to run slowly down the glass of the window, had been enough to drive her nearly out of her mind with lust. She rotated her clitoris frantically while tipping one of her breasts up and bending her head to suck at her own nipple, imagining in her erotic and sex-driven fantasy, that those were other lips and teeth on the rose-pink flesh, the lips and teeth of a man ... any man.
She was discharging freely now, her little cunt wet and slimy, the air of the room rank with the scent of her musk, her pretty legs and her body writhing from the self-inflicted torture of the pleasure she was giving herself. As her screaming nerves stretched ever tauter and thinner under the build-up of gathering lust, she drifted through that misty curtain that separates reality from the purgatory of passion where the mind is gripped in the riptide of mild insanity born of an excess of pure sensation. She let herself sink down through the hot waves of sheer delight that engulfed her and then the bubble burst from the terrible intensity of it. Slowly, reluctantly, the blown-apart bits of her personality coalesced. She lay supine on the bed, legs flung wide, her dripping cunt swollen and gasping like the pink mouth of a dying fish, her body still, but for an occasional, convulsive twitch.
"Lilith! Lilith, come down here. Phone call for you."
"Oh shit," Lil muttered, resenting the intrusion of the world and its demands upon her hard-earned and delicious languor. She rolled off the bed and stood up, donning a blue housecoat, the filmy material of which accented, rather than hid, her nakedness. Sleepy-eyed and tousle-headed, she went down the stairs.
"It's Mr. Fletcher, your school principal," her mother told her. "I can't imagine why he's calling you during the summer vacation. Lilith, dear, you shouldn't run around like that ... practically nude. You know your father's home today."
Big deal! What's the matter, old dry thighs and baggy tits. Afraid of a little competition? Well, you should be. I've seen the way he looks at me lately. I'll take him away from you someday ... when I happen to be in the mood.
Aloud, she said: "Oh, I'm really sorry, Mother. I was taking a nap when you called me and I just didn't think." She became an innocent child of twelve. "I don't know why Mr. Fletcher is calling me, either."
"Well," her mother replied, molified," never mind. You better not keep him waiting."
Lil nodded and went into the living room. "Yes?" she inquired into the phone. Her voice dropped to a low register. She managed to make that one word sound infintely seductive and sexy. Armond Fletcher was a gruesome, old character, but he was still a male. It wouldn't hurt to practice her technique on him.
"Lilith?" Fletcher was business-like. "Something has come up regarding your grades for this last semester. Nothing to worry about, just a slight irregularity that I find necessary to discuss with you in person. Could you drop by my house for a minute this evening?"
"Oh, of course, Mr. Fletcher," Lil responded brightly. "Would seven be all right?"
"Fine. Fine. I'll see you then."
"Now, what is that sneaky bastard up to?" Lil murmured as she hung up the phone. She knew that her grades were exactly as they had always been, perfect. When she cheated on exams, she copied only from the smartest boys in the school. No, she reasoned, it had to be something else, otherwise he would have discussed it over the phone. Armond Fletcher's status as an adult, automatically placed him in the camp of the enemy and, as a teacher, he was to be especially hated. But she didn't fear him. Lil feared no one. His armor plate and weaponry of cold efficiency daunted her not in the least. To her, he was just another middleaged man, balding slightly and with a bit of a paunch.
Delia Nordstrom nodded absently, noting with approval that Lil was on her way back up to her room, presumably to change into something less revealing. Delia was thankful that her husband had been busy in the garage while Lil was on the phone. She, too, was aware that John Nordstrom had developed more than a fatherly interest in their daughter.
"I can't really blame him," she admitted to herself. "That hot-assed, little piece of baggage would turn on an iron statue. Who the hell does she think she's kidding with that sweet kid act of hers? Probably upstairs jacking-off when I called her. I could smell it on her and her fingers were still wet. I'll have to watch her around John. I wonder if she's getting fucked much by the boys she dates?"
Delia was neither as old, as dry-thighed, nor as baggy-titted, as Lil thought. At thirty-two, she was still a remarkably attractive woman, a real swinger at cocktail parties. She was also a swinger in a man's bedroom ... almost any man. She thought of herself as hep and modern. Her eager acceptance of the "new morality", however, did not extend to permissiveness regarding incest.
After dinner, Lil walked the three blocks to the residence of Armond Fletcher. The tight, pink sweater and the short skirt she wore were a compromise, being neither as sexy nor as revealing as she would have prefered, nor as modest as her mother might have wished. She wondered if Mrs. Fletcher would offer her tea, and gush over her. She hated tea.
"Come in, my dear," Armond said to her at the door. Again she wondered what it was all about. He was, for her, a new Fletcher. Sans business suit and glasses, he looked quite different. He wore a quilted, smoking jacket and was actually smiling. She had never seen him smile. The matronly Mrs. Fletcher was not in evidence and Lil sighed with relief. No tea.
"My wife is on an extended visit with relatives in Florida," Armond explained as he led her into the living room, "so please forgive any lack of the social graces. I'm afraid I'm not very good at that sort of thing. Be seated, Lilith, I have something to show you."
As she sank into an upholstered chair by the fireplace, carefully crossing her legs to show as much thigh as possible without making the gesture too obviously deliberate, he picked an envelope from an end table and turned to face her. There was something in his manner, grave, yet subtly threatening, that caused Lil to tense. He smiled again, but it was a thin smile, humorless and vaguely triumphant.
"As you know," he said evenly, "my brother, Bob Fletcher, was recently killed in an accident. He was an excellent, professional photographer. In going through his things, I found these pictures, which will, I'm sure, be of considerable interest to you. They may also come as somewhat of a shock. But perhaps not. I'm a shrewd judge of character, Lil, and, I frankly doubt if much of anything could shock you."
"Why, Mr. Fletcher! I ... I ... I don't know what you mean."
He laughed unpleasantly. "The hell you don't. You can cut out the little-girl act. You do it well, and I'm sure it fools most people, but not an old campaigner like me. Here, take a look." He tossed the envelope onto her lap.
Lil bowed her head as her fingers busied themselves with the flap of the envelope. How, she wondered, had she ever made the mistake of underestimating this man? Her respect for him was soaring. A dozen photos, some in black and white, and some in color, spilled into her hands. The first one she selected was an interior, a flash shot. There was a couch. On the couch were two very nude people. They were engaged in the sex act, their faces as clearly visible as their genitals. One of them was Bill Devlin, ,the father of Mark Devlin, one of her schoolmates. His partner in the act of sexual intercourse was Delia Nordstrom, Lilith's mother!
The next picture she happened to select was one of her own father. He was sitting on the same couch. Kneeling between his open legs was a local woman named Susan Prine. She had John Nordstrom's big cock in her mouth. Lil's mother was leaning over the back of the couch, her breasts elongated and pendulous because of her position, her face registering a deep pleasure that was apparently being derived partly from watching her husband being sucked off and partly from her enjoyment of the man, another of their neighbors, standing behind her with his hands on her hips. Although it did not show in the photograph, Lil thought it reasonable to assume that this man had his cock in her mother right up to his balls.
Despite Armond's prediction, Lil's initial reaction had been one of shock. But it hadn't lasted long. So her parents were swappers. Interesting. But how had the deceased Bob Fletcher obtained these pictures? More to the point, what was his brother's purpose in now, showing them to her? Her mind raced, but came up with no answers. Okay, she'd play it by ear.
"Nice photography," she said drily, returning the pictures to the envelope and handing it to Armond.
He grinned wolfishly. "I thought you'd appreciate them. Bob was apparently a member of this group and I suppose they encouraged him to take the pictures. It obviously didn't occur to them that he would be so indiscreet as to retain copies and then get himself killed. But he did. Now you are wondering, of course, why I have shown them to you. I do not believe in euphemisms, my dear. The term is blackmail. Can you imagine what a mess this would be for you and your family if I saw to it that these were circulated among the good folk of our town?"
Lil felt the tension drain from her. She almost smiled in relief. So that was it? The silly, old fool! What in hell did she have that he could possibly want? Then she saw the way his attention was concentrated on her exposed, upper legs and, glancing at the stiffly protruding front of his trousers, she knew exactly what it was he wanted from her. Why, the goddamned, old fart! Was he dumb enough to think she'd stupidly sacrifice herself for the sake of her parents? Shit on them. They'd had heir fun and now let them pay for it. But wait a minute. Maybe there was something in this for Lil. Think, girl. How can you turn this to your advantage? She thought she saw a way. Yes, she was sure of it. "And what do you want from me?" she asked him. She knew, but she was going to make him say it.
Armond licked his lips. In the light from the reading lamp behind her, he looked all of his fifty years. His sallow face was -lined and puffy and his teeth were slightly yellow.
"I want to fuck you," he said bluntly. "I want to take all of your clothes off and toy with you at my leisure, to touch you and feel of you and to kiss and bite you wherever I please. I want to get on you and put my cock in you. I hope you're a virgin, although I doubt it. I want to make you bleed. You're only fourteen. I wish you were even younger. I like young girls. Give yourself to me, let me do as I wish with you, and you may have the pictures."
That was when it hit her. She had already made up her mind to give in to him, but she planned to do it with calculating coldness, providing him with as little pleasure as possible, but his talk of stripping her, and his detailed description of all he would do to her body, got to her. She felt a growing heat generating in her loins, and the urge to squirm her hips. She was going to get it! At long last, she was going to be fucked! He wasn't nice or handsome, and she hated his rotten guts, but what difference did that make? He was a man and he had a cock, didn't he? She knew he would be ruthless and brutal with her and that thought sent an added thrill through her. Better this than some pretty, but awkward, half-frightened schoolboy in the back seat of a car parked in Lover's Lane. Oh, she'd take him all right. The hot-pantsed, old fool was about to have the tables turned on him, and was too jerky to realize it. Man! What they could do to him for screwing a fourteen-year-old virgin! But that would come later ... after she'd figured out how to use it to her greatest advantage. Right now, though, she was going to get fucked and she intended to enjoy it.
"Okay," she said. "Only, I want the negatives as well as the prints. You're due for a surprise, you dirty, old man. I am a virgin."
"Yes, yes, I'll give you the negatives," he promised eagerly. "Now I'm going to have you. I've watched you grow up and I've wanted you since you were ten." He was trembling in his urgency, his mouth twitching obscenely as he made a grab for her wrist and pulled her out of the chair.
Lil made no attempt to fight him as he pulled her roughly to him, forcing his lips down hard on hers. She endured the kiss, but didn't like it, impatient for the big moment yet to come.
"Maybe I'd better call home and tell my mother I've decided to stay downtown and go to a show," she suggested.
"Smart girl," he agreed, breathing hard.
CHAPTER TWO
While Lil talked to her mother on the phone, Armond knelt beside her, unfastening her skirt and stripping her panties off. As she hung up, he was licking her thighs and digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her buttocks. She liked the feel of his tongue and his hands on her, and she liked standing there half-naked while he nuzzled her crotch. This was much better than exposing her body to Nils Rundy, but she hoped Armond wouldn't take too long about getting at the more serious business of deflowering her.
With a gasp of agonized delight, he sprang to his feet, scooping her into his arms and practically running with her into the bedroom. He threw her onto the bed and nearly tore her sweater in his eagerness to get it off over her head. He left it still blinding and smothering her as he paused long enough to jerk his own clothing off. She finished removing the sweater herself and then they were both naked. With an animal cry of lust, he flung his weight on her prone body and began ravenously mouthing her breasts. His greedy ardor had also inflamed Lil. She squirmed around so that she could grasp his penis. It was the first time she had ever held a man's cock in her hand, and the warm, throbbing shaft delighted her. It was not as big as Nils Rundy's, but she didn't care, knowing it would soon be inside of her and she would then be grateful for its relatively small length and girth, because it would be hurting her like hell. It was not, she decided, a pretty thing. It was too white and worm-like for beauty, and the flat, reddish head was repulsive, but its very ugliness thrilled her. The shaft was entwined with heavy, blue-tinted veins, and the skin, although velvety to her touch, was pocked and scarred as though from old battles. She squeezed it, intrigued by the drops of whitish fluid that oozed from the slit of a mouth in the blind face.
"Oh, my God, how I've wanted you!" Armond moaned as he slobbered at her nipples. He bit her and she gasped, squirming with pleasure, not minding when he turned savage, his teeth bruising her breasts and her belly. He slid down on the bed, thrust her legs apart and stuck his tongue in her cunt. It was a thing she hadn't expected, but the exquisite sensation he evoked by this erotic act caused her to arch her back and to utter a small cry of surprise. Then his tongue found her clitoris, and she began sobbing in rhythmic cadence with the swelling waves of passion that roared through her body from the one, focal point of delight.
Lil came very quickly that first time, but before she did, her aroused glands had pumped a quantity of her body juices into Armond's mouth, and above the sloppy, slurping sounds of his frenzied lapping and licking, she heard the gulping noises a man makes when he is repeatedly swallowing. He was drinking her. He must actually like the taste of it, she thought.
Her orgasm was titanic. She knew now that masturbation, when compared with the real thing, was like weak tea would be to an alcoholic. She was caught in a maelstrom of lust, spinning madly out of control, like an insane top, as his fat, red tongue and sucking lips tortured her clitoris. Around and around she whirled, flung this way and that, like a rag doll, by the violence of the passions that howled through her body and reached a roaring crescendo inside her head. She thought she was dying and she didn't give a damn. She was being torn apart and she adored it, yearning for complete dissolution. Then she was cast out of it, as a chip is thrown from a whirlpool, and she was floating in quieter waters. The motion diminished as he expertly finished her off, and she slowly came back to reality.
"You came!" he cried triumphantly. Through eyes still barely able to focus, she saw his face, dripping wet and smeary from his contact with her. Then his full weight came on her and his musky, avid tongue found her lips. She liked his kiss, that time.
She nodded, her face still contorted with passion. "Do me again," she whispered, begging.
"Not until after I fuck you," he told her hoarsely. She felt his cock probing at her, its blunt head demanding entrance.
She would have fought him a little then, for her desire had been momentarily drained of its urgency and now she was afraid, but she was too weak, too exhausted. He burrowed in between her defenseless legs and she felt him begin to enter her, the broad, meaty head shouldering aside the muscles of her cunt, tearing at the membraneous lining. He worked the head of it into her and paused, letting her think he meant to do it gradually, then, with a grunt of savage joy, he slammed himself at her with the full strength of his thighs and back, ramming his cock into her so hard their frontal bones crashed together. It was as though he had thrust a blazing sword into her vitals. She screamed.
"Shut up, you little bitch!" Armond snarled at her. "You want the whole town to hear you?" He emphasized his command by slapping her face so hard he knocked her head violently sideways on the pillow and her scream was abruptly choked off.
Lil looked up at him, smiling weakly. He was still hurting her and she liked it. She had also liked it when he had slapped her. "Kiss me," she said.
The thrill of having her virginity so ruthlessly and brutally destroyed, aroused Lil from the post-orgasmic stupor that had followed Armond's erotic love making. The hard slap on the face completed the job of jerking her out of the somnolence of lassitude. When he pulled his cock all of the way out of her, and then forced it in again as cruelly as before, she refrained from screaming a second time. Instead, she raised her legs and wrapped them around his thighs, straining to lift her hips so that the full length of his weapon probed her inner person. She felt the head of it bump its way by the mouth of her womb and seek her depths. When his first few, deliberately sadistic lunges had been completed, and he settled down to a rhythmic pumping, she matched his motion with a pelvic gyration of her own, reveling in the still painful, but magically wonderful, sensation of hard, foreign flesh within her. She was glad he was hurting her. Her writhings and twistings were a frantic effort to repeat the delicious agony of that first assault.
Despite her desire, however, the pain diminished, but only to be replaced by a deeper, more satisfying sensation. Armond's fucking of her was inspired only by an animal lust to satisfy himself, and with no regard for any pleasure she might derive from the act, but the strong, young legs wrapped about his body kept his cock buried deeply in her vagina and kept his body pressed tightly against hers. The resulting agitation of her clitoris was driving her to a frenzied height of passion such as she had never before experienced. As the feeling increased, she went wild with desire for the climax, her clawing fingers digging at his back, her sharp nails shredding his skin. She bit the side of his neck. He cursed her and paused in his labors long enough to hit her in the face again. She hardly felt the blow, but it was at that instant that she came to her orgasm.
Lil's upward lunging hips lifted Armond a foot off of the bed, and her scream was a gurgling, animal cry, human only in that it resembled the wail of some lost soul tossed into the raging fires of some unspeakable inferno. Her body seemed afire as she sank into this hell of passion, and her only connection with reality was her response to the piston strokes of the cock that still plunged in and out of her, increasing her delightful agony until it became a poignant ecstasy too great to bear. She was throbbing like a big drum being pounded by a madman and then, as Armond's sobbing curses and moans mingled with hers, he doubled the savagery of his attack and she was aware of his hot sperm flooding her, gushing again and again into her body. There was one, last, desperate flurry of motion from them as they writhed together in the craziness that had overcome them both, and then subsided.
He gave a final, weak thrust, grunted and rolled off of her. They lay side by side, motionless, but for heaving chests due to heavy breathing. He was the first to raise on one elbow and, with dull, glazed eyes, survey the wreckage of the bed. It resembled a slaughter house. Lil's crotch and thighs were smeared with blood, as was the white bedspread. Armond's now flaccid penis, and the surrounding skin, was also painted red. When he sat up, long gashes were revealed on the pale skin of his back.
"Like fucking a goddamned porcupine," he muttered, staring at her nude body.
Lil stirred and turned her head, smiling sleep-' ily up at him. "We've got time to do it again," she murmured. "The show isn't out until eleven-thirty."
He groaned and shook his head. "Not right away. What the hell do you think I am ... a sex machine? We better take a shower and get this mess cleaned up."
They showered together and he allowed her to soap his body. She was impressed by the fact that he was remarkably trim and compact for his age.
"I work out at the gym every day and play a tot of handball," he explained. "Christ! I had no idea you'd like it so well. If it wasn't for all that blood, I'd swear you'd been fucking for years. Hey, what are you doing?"
"Washing your cock and balls. I like handling them. Can you make it get hard again?"
"After awhile. I'm sorry I hit you. Does it still hurt?"
Lil shook her head, intent on lathering his cock. "I didn't mind. I wouldn't like it now, but while I was all hot and sexy, it was okay. Is your wife going to be gone a long time?"
"All summer. You want to come to see me again?"
"You bet. I didn't know getting fucked would be so good. You want me to come back?"
"Of course, but we have to be careful."
"Yeh, I know. Let's go back to bed. I think its starting to get hard again."
"Damned if you aren't the hottest kid I've ever done it with," he told her, after he had changed the bedspread and they were lying naked on it, sharing a cigarette.
"Have you had many young girls?" she asked him.
"Not as many as I've wanted," he admitted ruefully. "When I was a grade school teacher I made out a lot better than I do now. I used to keep some of the little girls after school and play around with the. Most of them were so small I couldn't get it into them without tearing them up, so I did it between their legs and went down on them. I even taught some of them to suck me off."
"The girls at school talk about that," Lil said. "Bessie Handley claims she sucked Roy Klontz's prick. Only when she swallowed his jism it made her sick."
Armond shrugged. "Some like it and some don't. But it's a good way to help a man get a hard," he suggested slyly. He glanced significantly down at his still soft cock that Lil was idly fondling.
She grinned. "Okay, I get the point. I'd sorta like to try it anyway, only don't shoot your load in my mouth. I want that in my ass next. How do I do it?"
"Just put it in your mouth and suck on it while you lick the underside near the head with your tongue," Armond replied eagerly, hunching his body to raise his hips toward her face.
Lil ducked her head and accepted the limber organ between her lips. She thought it had an odd, not unpleasant taste. As she began to suck him, he reached around her to cup her breast and roll the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. Almost immediately, she felt his prick stiffen and swell in her mouth and some of his growing excitement communicated itself to her. At first, she had been indifferent about what she was doing to him, but now she began to enjoy the act for its own sake. She liked the way she could make his body quiver and the small groans of pleasure that interrupted his heavy breathing. Doing that to him gave her a sense of power that she liked.
"Oh, you beautiful, little bitch!" Armond moaned. "You cocksucking, gorgeous chippy, you prick-licking, jism-drinking, honey-assed doll, go on and suck it, baby girl, suck it and make me come!"
She loved it when he called her dirty names. They excited her, and when he pulled her body around on the bed so that he could bite her painfully on the cheek of the ass, she adored him for it, but she nearly fainted from sheer delight when he spread her legs apart and began a slobbering attack on her sphincter. She sensed that this new game they were playing was even better than being fucked, and she lost her fear of getting a mouthful of semen. She wanted it now. She had all of his cock sucked into her mouth, her nose touching the hairy bag that held his balls. She increased the suction as his tongue sent thrill after thrill through her body.
Coming that way was different and somehow better. It lacked the wildness and violence of fucking, yet was an oddly more penetrating thing that stirred a deeper, more profound depth of lust. She felt that she had turned into a helpless, over-sensitized, lump of jelly that trembled to every stroke of his tongue. Still she was acutely conscious of the fat prick that was jerking in and out, fucking her in the mouth. Her orgasm was soul-searing and gutwrenching in its intensity, and its pleasure for her was marvelously increased by the torrent of hot jism that pulsed over her frantically working tongue and scalded her throat with its salty, stinging, acrid flavor as she gulped and swallowed greedily. Long after she had wrung the last, convulsive spasm from him, she retained his prick in her mouth, milking it with her fingers in the hope of a final drop or two.
She straightened up and kissed him, tasting her own musk-scented juices on his wet mouth. She'd try it up her ass next time.
Lil had a lot to think about on the way home through the dark, elm-shaded streets. Clutched in her hand was the envelope with the pictures of her parents and other members of the local switch club, as well as the negatives. She meant to use them, although in what way she was not yet sure. But she gave them little thought. Her mind dwelt with elation on the fact that she had finally known sex with a man. She was tired, yet her whole body still tingled warmly from the sensations it had known that evening. She licked her lips, still tasting Armond's sperm. She knew she would go back to his house again and again.
Whenever Lil stayed out late, her mother left the back door unlocked for her so that she could go upstairs without disturbing the household. Accordingly, Lil turned into the dark, shrubbordered passageway beside her house. She had nearly reached the back steps when an arm came out of the night to encircle her throat and another went around her, pinning her own arms to her sides. A whiskery face bruised her cheek, and breath that reeked of sour wine, assailed her. "Gottcha!" a voice grunted in her ear.
In her preoccupation with her imminently satisfactory defloration, she had forgotten all about Nils Rundy!
Lil struggled silently as he bore her to the ground. She knew she was going to be raped and the knowledge thrilled her. She would make him fight for it, because it would be more fun that way, but she would utter no cry, nor would she make any serious attempt to escape. When t-he thought of his big cock, and how it had looked as it squirted futilely against the window of his trailer, she could hardly wait for the moment when he would put it into her.
Rundy had her down on her back and was tearing at her clothing. "'Tease me, will ya?" he hissed, ripping her skirt off. "Now yer gonna get it, ya goddamned, fucking bitch!" His anger rose as his efforts to tear her sweater were frustrated and his big fist caught her solidly on the side of the jaw. There was a pinwheeling display of lights in front of her eyes and she sank into unconsciousness while he finished stripping her. When she was nude, he spent a moment gloating over the white perfection of her girl's body, then knelt between her legs, unzipped his fly, and aimed his huge cock at the crevice between her inviting ass cheeks.
Lil awoke to pain equal to that she had experienced when Armond had first entered her. She came fully awake in that instant. She had known that his cock was bigger than Armond's, but as it plunged brutally in and out of her, it seemed truly immense, threatening to split her rectum with every fierce lunge.
He was unaware that she was overjoyed with the unexpected pleasure of being raped, and that her enjoyment was at least equal to his own. He still thought he was forcing her and it increased his ferocity. He battered at her as though trying to drive her slender, young body into the hard-packed earth of the path at the side of the house. He was confused and amazed when she began whispering hoarsely in his ear: "Fuck it into me! Fuck it into me hard. Fuck it into my asshole, you dirty, old fart!" She wrapped her legs around his thighs, pulling him even deeper into her and pushed his head down so that her breasts were rubbing his face, wanting him to bite and suck her.
CHAPTER THREE
Nils Rundy was not only startled by Lil's obscenities, but also slightly affronted. He had not expected her to talk like a whore! He shrugged and went on with it. Little bitch was actually liking it up the ass! Well, that was all right, although it did detract a little from the sport. At least he wouldn't have to worry about her telling on him. He would be able to do it to her a lot after this, instead of killing her and hiding her body, as he had planned. During the course of his travels about the country, he had raped and killed several young girls, and he'd gotten to the point where he really enjoyed it. He'd especially liked going back to where he'd hidden their bodies and screwing them again when they were cold and stiff. He got a macabre thrill out of necrophilia. But he could see where it would be better to keep Lil alive and screw her every night until he grew tired of her. He could always kill her later ... just for the fun of it.
Not knowing that her impulsive words of passion had saved her from getting her neck broken by Nils Rundy's big hands, Lil let the driving force of his prick send her into a rapturous world of sex-blazing fantasy, twisting and writhing under him like a tortured snake in its death throes as she sought the peak of pleasure, passed it and went on, willing him to come, anxious to feel him squirting into her. It was a long time before he did, and she was able to achieve a second orgasm to match his gism exploding in her swollen, and now tender, asshole.
He struggled to get up when he had finished with her, but she held him. "Let's go in your trailer for awhile," she whispered. "I want to suck your cock."
She gathered up her torn garments and went with him into the dark, foul-smelling interior of the small trailer. She made him take off his clothes and lie beside her on his bed while she took his limp cock, still wet from her body, and put it in her mouth. As she sucked it, she played with his balls and fingered his asshole. When his prick began to harden, she raised her head. "How about doing this to me, too?" she asked him. "I like having my cunt sucked."
She heard his gasp of surprise and shock. "Shit no, I ain't gonna do no dirty thing like that! What the hell you think I am? Why, that ain't nice! I don't know what's come over you kids, nowadays. You ain't got no morals at all."
Lil giggled. "Maybe we don't have morals ... but we sure know how to have fun."
It was two o'clock in the morning before Lil left the old man and went up to her own room. Still not sleepy, she lay naked on her bed and looked again at the pictures she had gotten from Armond Fletcher. The one she liked best was the one that depicted Mrs. Prine sucking John Nordstrom's prick, while Delia leaned over the back of the couch, watching and being reamed from behind. She was, she saw, going to have to completely re-evaluate her parents. It seemed that they were much more interesting people than she had supposed. Not that she liked them any better, but she certainly now had more respect for them. She would never have believed that grown-ups had enough sense to have so much fun. Groovy! Still studying the pictures, she masturbated herself to sleep.
Lil took no immediate steps to capitalize on the fact that she possessed the damning photos. The plan to use them was still maturing in her rapacious and evil, little brain. In the meanwhile, she had other things to occupy her time. She was having what she considered just loads of fun with Armond Fletcher and with Nils Rundy.
On this particular night, she had told her mother than she was going to the skating rink with some other girls. Instead, she was sitting with Armond in his living room. Her blouse was unbuttoned, exposing her large, eager breasts, and her skirt was tucked up around her waist, her panties on the floor at her feet. They were on the couch, kissing and petting, working themselves up to a point of sexual excitement that would justify a trip to the bedroom. His trousers were open, his cock in her hand.
"I think you're getting tired of me," she accused him, pouting and giving his half-soft prick a disdainful shake.
"Not really," he replied, "although we have done it every night for a month now. Let's just say I'm a bit jaded. You're a beautiful girl, Lil, but the trouble is that you're almost grown up. I do wish you were younger."
"Jesus Christ!" Lil exclaimed angrily. "So I'm an old bag at fourteen, am I?"
"Hardly." Armond laughed politely. "On the other hand, I thought I might get you to do me a favor."
Lil eyed him suspiciously. "Like what?"
"Well, I'm sure you know lots of young kids here in town. If you shop around a bit, there's almost always some cute, little nine or tenyear-old who's tired of playing with herself all the time, and bored with fucking herself with her finger, frankfurters, screw driver handles, or anything else she can find to stick in her little pussy. A child like that might be ready to have her first affair with a man. It would be safer and easier for you to locate one like that for me than for me to try to do it myself. After all, the old candy-and-a-ride-in-the-car trick doesn't even work on the dumbest ones, nowadays. How about it?"
Lil tensed as the idea hit her. He'd done it! Bless his rotten, lecherous heart, he'd crystalized for her the vague plan that had been half-formed in the back of her mind for a month. Now she knew how she was going to utilize the pictures she'd obtained from him, and it no longer mattered that he'd grown tired of her.
"What's in it for me?" she demanded, but only half-listening for his answer. She was busy with plots and plans of her own.
Armond sighed. "With you, there's always that, isn't there? I suppose you want money. How much?"
Lil regarded him shrewdly. He was known as a cheap son of a bitch who hardly ever spent money. He must be loaded. "If I get you what you want, you pay me a hundred dollars for the first time and twenty for every time you bang her after that. Now don't blow a gasket, lover. Any kid I get for you will be ready and she'll be safe for you to fool with. I'll see to that. And don't tell me you don't need me either. If you could go out and get one for yourself, you wouldn't be screwing an old, teenaged bitch like me, who already has hair around her cunt."
"This is outrageous!" Armond fumed indignantly. "It's highway robbery. On the other hand, although I still think it's a lousy way to take advantage of a friend, I don't want to waste this whole summer. God knows when I'll be able to send my wife off for several months again like this. Tell you what, Lil, there is one way in which we might make a deal. There is another man in town who is crazy about young girls. I owe him a favor and I'm anxious to be out of his debt. If you'll let him fuck you, I'll pay your exorbitant price for this girl you have in mind. Well?"
Lil shrugged. "I don't know. Who is he?"
"Hootch Donovan, our stalwart chief of police. Why, he'd be like a pig in a slop bucket over a dish like you."
It took Lil less than a second to make up her mind. Things were getting better and better, she thought, elated. Having both the chief of police and the high school principal in her pocket was really getting off to a groovy start. But there was something else she wanted to know, too. "How many others are there around like you and Hootch?" she asked him. "I mean old guys who dig screwing little kids?"
Armond snorted. "Plenty. I could name you a dozen. I happen to know of at least ten girls in school, who have been getting screwed by step-fathers, uncles or older men around town. They sometimes talk about it to the other girls in school and the word gets to me eventually."
Lil nodded. It was just what she had hoped he would tell her. "Okay," she said. "Why don't you call Hootch and have him come over here tonight?" She took her hand away from his limp cock. "It's obvious that you sure as hell aren't going t do me any good."
"Sorry about that," Armond said, getting up and going to the phone, "but I'll want to take care of you after Hootch finishes with you. Watching him fuck you will really turn me on."
Lil went into the bedroom to comb her hair, but she could still hear Armond talking on the phone. "Come on over," he was saying. "I've got something special for you. Remember what we were talking about the other day?"
"The son of a bitch!" Lil mused, grinning with admiration for Armond. "Why, he's had this planned all along."
Until his middle years had turned most of his brawn to fat, Hootch Donovan had been a big man. But he was still impressive. His eyes gave away no more secrets than did his grimlipped mouth, and those eyes were capable of turning to green ice when he was angry. He had held his job for many years, mainly by the virtue of looking like a policeman. People took it for granted that no one could look like that and not be efficient, as well as the soul of honesty and honor. The facts were that he was as crooked as any criminal he had ever arrested. To him, honor was a commodity, one that was for sale to the highest bidder. When he came into Armond Fletcher's house, his green eyes lit with lustful appreciation at the sight of Lilith Nordstrom.
"So this is what you got for me, the Nordstrom kid, huh?" he said to Armond as he appraised Lil's trim figure and big breasts. "Okay, if you've got me fixed up with her, we've got a deal, pal." He walked over to Lil and felt of one of her breasts, just as a stock buyer might have felt the udder of a dairy cow. "Not a bad set of cans," he conceded. "Take your clothes off."
"Take yours off, too," Lil shot back at him as she reached for the top button on her blouse. "I don't want to buy a pig in a poke anymore than you do."
"You got a smart mouth for a kid," Hootch said gruffly, but he shrugged out of his suit coat and began pulling his shirt-tails out of his trousers.
Lil made a production of disrobing. She had never seen a strip artist at work, but her instinctive knowledge of how to tease a man made up for any lack of experience. She opened her blouse, but left it on so that he was given only tantalizing glimpses of her breasts as she slowly unsnapped her skirt and lowered it over her thighs. While she undressed in as deliberately a provocative manner as she knew how, she watched him peel to the skin. He was fat and covered with course, red hair, but she didn't find him repulsive. He looked cruel and brutal, and she anticipated an exciting time with him. His prick interested her most of all. It was not round and smooth on the end, like Armond's or Rundy's, but was squared off like a severed piece of garden hose. He was the first uncircumcised man she had ever seen. Even as she rolled her panties down over her rounded hips, she saw that his cock was stiffening and lengthening. She stepped close to him and took it in her hand. She pushed the foreskin back and was surprised to see a red, raw, pointed thing jum out at her. It reminded her of a dog's prick, and she suppressed a giggle.
"What'll she do?" Hootch asked Armond.
Armond shrugged. "Anything. She particularly likes to suck cocks, though, don't you, Lil?"
"I particularly like sex," Lil responded, laughing. "You want to play sixty-nine, chiefy?"
"Naw," Donovan grunted. "Not now. And don't call me 'chiefy,' damn it. Bend over the arm of the couch and stick your ass up here."
Not understanding what he wanted, she didn't move fast enough to suit him, so he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, spun her around and shoved her so that she fell on her belly across the arm of the couch. He was behind her and between her legs with remarkable speed for a man of his bulk, and Lil felt the pointed head of his prick probing at her anus.
"Hey!" she yelled. "You're getting it in the wrong hole!"
"Shaddup," he growled as he drove his heavy hips at her.
If Lil had thought her first experience with Armond and Randy had been painful, she now knew that they had been nothing, compared to the agony she endured as a result of Donovan's assault. Although her asshole wasn't virgin, it hurt more that the first time with Nils Rundy. She tried to scream, but Armond had gotten into the act, assisting Donovan. He forced her face down into the covering of the couch so that the sound was muffled to a slobbering whimper. He continued to hold her that way, kneeling on her wrists and nearly suffocating her, while Donovan raped her in the anus, plunging his enormous porker into her with savage, brutal indifference.
It went on and on and there was no relief from it, nor did the pain arouse sex feelings in her. It seemed hours to her before her attacker grunted and groaned to a climax that made her asshole slippery and sloppy with his semen. He drew it out of her at last. Breathing heavily from the exertion, he sat down in one of the upholstered chairs. Armond released her and Lil slumped to the floor, sobbing and crying from the humiliation and the hurt they had given her.
"She ain't bad," Donovan admitted, still panting, "but I had a young boy in one of the cells last week ... picked him up on a marijuana charge ... and he had just as good an ass." He reached out with a bare foot to roughly nudge Lil's shoulder. "Come on," he said, "quit blubbering. You can suck my cock now until it gets hard. We'll see how good a cocksucker you are."
Lil sat up to look at him, her face wet with tears and her eyes stormy with hate. "Suck it yourself, you bastard," she told him. "It's got shit on it."
Donovan's green eyes flashed dangerously for a second and then he laughed, his fat belly shaking. "So it has. But what the hell? It's your own shit, ain't it? Tell you what, I'll let you lick it all nice and clean before you suck it. How's that?" He laughed even harder.
For a moment, Lil seriously considered going to the kitchen for a sharp knife and stabbing him to death. Then she thought better of it. Hootch Donovan was going to be necessary to her plans. She crawled toward him and took the brown flecked organ in her mouth.
"That's better," Donovan growled. "Maybe you and me will get along after all. You can suck me off now. I ain't in the mood to fuck you again."
"Mind if I suck her cunt while she's doing that?" Armond asked. Donovan raised a fat, freckled hand in agreement so Armond stretched out on his back with his head between the kneeling girl's thighs. With the expert tongue laving her clitoris, Lil, in spite of herself, was not able to maintain her hatred for the policeman. She began to forget the pain in her rectum and to enjoy herself. She came twice and found herself actually eager for Donovan's orgasm. When he finally spurted into her mouth, she swallowed rapidly, her hands petting his hairy thighs and his fat belly as the hot stuff gushed down her throat.
"You ain't the worst cocksucker I ever had," Donovan told her, magnanimously. "I've got a house out on King Street where I throw parties once in awhile, and where I take girls and boys when I'm in the mood. I'll get word to you whenever I want you to come there."
His attitude infuriated her, but she was even angrier with herself. She knew she'd go when he called her, and that she'd wait impatiently for the summons. He was part of her scheme for becoming a power in the town, but more than that, his coarse, gross brutality fascinated her.
After Donovan had dressed and left the house, Lil turned to Armond. She asked him if he was ready now. He was.
"No, no," she said when he tried to enter her. "Do it to my asshole like he did."
"I thought you didn't like that."
"Oh, shut up and do it. Here, I'll bend over the end of the couch like I did for him."
Returning to her home, Lil idly considered the possibility that she might be a nymphomaniac. She had read about women who were driven to sex by an overpowering compulsion and were incapable of ever achieving complete satisfaction. It seemed to her that she fit snugly into this category. Right now, for instance, after a night of being thoroughly used and abused by two lusty men, she fully intended to spend an hour or so with Nils Rundy before going to bed. She hurried around the side of the house. There was a dim light in the trailer. Good. He was still up. Probably waiting for her.
The door was unlocked and she pushed it open, entering the familiar interior of his soursmelling kitchen. The light emanated from his bedroom, as she could see through the doorless opening. She stopped, surprised to see that he was not alone. A nude woman crouched on the bed and Nils knelt behind her. His hands were on the white, rounded hips and he was fucking her dog fashion. The woman was moaning softly, and apparently with great pleasure.
Well, I'll be damned! Lil thought. This old bastard really makes out. And that's a choice piece he's got there. Not young, but with a hell of a gorgeous shape.
At that moment, Nils began to come, grunting and cursing in his rapture, the sucking sound of his cock, as it worked in and out of the woman's generous cunt, changing to a slushing, jism-lubricated noise.
The woman came too, humping her ass higher in the air to miss none of the massive prick that was churning in her, her body shaking as though she was sobbing pitifully. But the unintelligible mouthings that came from her were the music of ecstasy.
The act completed, Nils flopped on the bed beside her and the woman turned over, her features still contorted with passion.
"Let me suck it now, darling," she pleaded huskily. "I want to suck it now while it's still all smeary with come."
Lil recognized the face and the voice.
Mother!
CHAPTER FOUR
At the sight of her mother sucking Nils Rundy's cock, Lil had to put her hand to her mouth to supress a giggle. She wondered if she looked as funny when she was doing that. She watched as long as she dared, then slipped silently from the trailer and went up to her own room. She stayed up quite late, perfecting her plan of conquest. Her first move, she decided, would be to keep her word to Armond Fletcher. She would find a very young girl for his amusement. She did not think she would have to go very far afield to accomplish that purpose. The Harmons lived next door and they had a ten-year-old daughter, Dora. At the back of the Harmon lot was an old barn, no longer in use. Dora played there frequently and Lil had spied on her by putting her eye to one of the many cracks in the side of the barn. She knew that the pretty, little, black-haired Dora often repaired to the barn to masturbate. Furthermore, the child had a large, brown dog that she encouraged to lick her small slit-like vulva. Lil had even watched Dora's futile efforts to entice the animal to fuck her, but the dog had seemed either uninterested or lacking in the ability to understand what she expected of him. Yes, Dora would do just fine. Armond would enjoy her, unaware that he would be laying himself wide open for the blackmail that Lil intended.
She lost no time in speaking to Dora, inviting the little girl up to her room the following morning.
"You're a pretty sexy kid for a teeny hopper," Lil told her. "Don't deny it. I've seen you finger fucking yourself and letting your dog lick your pussy. Is that fun?"
Dora blushed furiously and dropped her long, sooty lashes to hide her acute embarrassment.
"I didn't, neither," she denied, squirming with guilt and refusing to meet Lil's eyes.
"Oh, yes you did. I saw you in the barn ... lots of times."
"You ... you aren't gonna tell on me, are you?"
"Well," Lil drawled slowly, her tone judicious, "I suppose I really ought to say something to your mother about it, but I might not. Depends."
"Depends on what?" Dora asked, raising her eyes to look shyly at Lil, hope struggling with fear on her face.
"Depends on whether or not you're willing to do me a favor."
"What favor? Gosh, Lil, I'll do anything for you. You know I'm your friend. Please don't tell my folks."
"Okay. You do what I say, and I won't. There's a man here in town who likes you. He wants you to come to his house and take your clothes off for him so he can look at you and feel you up, maybe kiss you, too. If you'll let him, then I won't tell on you."
Dora looked shocked. "A grown-up! I can't do...."
Lil argued with Dora for an hour before the little girl, crying and shaking with shock and fright, agreed to the proposal. By the time a second hour had passed, she had convinced Dora that it wouldn't be so bad, and might even be fun. She impressed upon the child the need for secrecy and that she must never, under no circumstances or conditions, admit that anything of the kind had taken place with Armond Fletcher, or that Lil had had anything to do with it.
The evening, Lil asked Mrs. Harmon's permission to take Dora to a show. She took her instead, to Armond Fletcher's house, waiting until after dark and escorting her young charge through Fletcher's back yard and through his back door to avoid being seen by neighbors.
Armond was obviously delighted. He fed Dora a candy bar and a coke before taking her on his lap and putting his hand under her skirt to fondle her plump, pretty legs. Dora blushed furiously hid her face against his chest so that she wouldn't have to look at Lil as Armond removed her panties and began masturbating her. After awhile, however, when he stopped and began to remove her clothing, she made no objection, even helping him with the stubborn snap on the waistband of her pleated skirt.
Lil grew bored with the procedure and stood up to go. She held her hand out to Fletcher, rubbing her thumb and forefinger together suggestively. "Okay," she said, "I've delivered the merchandise, so let's have the payment, and I'll be on my way."
He had unzipped his trousers, and was trying to talk Dora into touching his prick. He gave Lil a glance of annoyance and irritation. Then he caught the look in her eyes, the cold, predatory look that included contempt, triumph and amusement, and he felt a twinge of fear. He hastily withdrew his wallet from his pants pocket, opened it and handed her five twenty-dollar bills. "There," he said. "You be careful how you spend that. People see you with a lot of money and they may become suspicious."
"And you be careful with that kid," Lil retorted. "You send her home all bit up and bleeding and you'll be in trouble."
She grinned at him then and left the house, only stopping in the kitchen long enough to look back and see Armond on his knees, his face between Dora's outstretched thighs.
It was time, Lil decided the following day, to put the rest of her scheme into motion. She made a tour of the neighborhood, calling on Mark Devlin, Sissy Prine and the Barstow twins, Pat and Linda. She invited all of them to come to her room, not intimating what was in store for them, but being deliberately secretive enough to stir their curiosity. Once she had them all assembled, she looked them over and was well satisfied with her choice of victims. They were all from good homes, were better than average good looking and none of them were bright enough to cause her much trouble.
Sissy Prine was the youngest, but her twelve-year-old body was well-developed. She was a cute girl with brown hair and blue eyes. Hard, pointed little breasts budded beneath the slightly soiled sweatshirt she wore. Sissy was a tomboy.
The Barstow sisters were identical twins, a year older than Lil. They were pretty redheads. They already had the reputation of being easy to make out with, and Lil had reason to believe that the rumors about them were not unfounded.
Mark Devlin was a tall, handsome boy of sixteen. He had dark hair and dark eyes. He had worked for Bob Fletcher on weekends and during summer vacations and was known as an excellent, amateur photographer.
"Hey, what's this all about?" Sissy Prine asked. "You got some new rock records you want us to hear, or something?"
Lil shook her head. "No," she said, "this is more like a business meeting. I got sick of trying to get by on the stinky little allowance my folks give me, so I decided to branch out." She reached two fingers into her blouse and drew the five twenties from her brassier. "I decided to give you kids a break and let you get into this with me. Anybody interested?" She waved the bills at them and grinned.
"For Christ's sake!" Mark Devlin gasped, staring at the money. "What'd you do ... rob a bank?"
"Naw. Banks are too much trouble. This was easier. I've gone into the whoring and the blackmailing business."
"You what?"
There was a chorus of similar exclamations, and then the nervous laughter of shocked disbelief.
"Man! Like you're really a character," Pat Barstow said. "For a minute there I thought you meant it."
"I did," Lil replied coolly. "I fucked for this money and I intend to fuck for more ... plenty more, but screwing for money is peanuts compared to what I'll make as a blackmailer. You three are going to help me and we're all going to get rich. We'll have more bread than any adult in town. Mark is going to help too. We need his camera. Do you have any infrared film, Mark?"
"Why, yes, I guess I've got some at home. But now look here, Lil, don't you think you've gone far enough with this joke? You've got to be kidding, but if you aren't, count me out. I wouldn't have anything to do with such a stupid, nutty...."
"Wouldn't you?" Lil asked softly. She took an envelope from her dresser and handed it to him. "Take a look at those and then pass them around. Don't bother to tear them up. I've got the negatives. You'll either go along with me on this, or copies of those prints will be sent to the mayor, the ministers of the local churches and the newspaper editor. Neither you nor any of your parents will be able to stay in this town when I get through with you.
Think it over."
They were shocked. Sissy Prine cried and the Barstow sisters, Pat and Linda, turned so pale their freckles stood out like daubs of brown paint. Mark Devlin cursed with a fluency surprising at his age.
After forty minutes of this, Lil told them that she had listened to enough of their threats and their silly entreaties. She would give them until Saturday morning to decide. Then, if their answers were unfavorable, the photos would be made public.
Surprisingly, it was Sissy Prine, the youngest one, who first capitulated. "I didn't believe you," she told Lil on Thursday evening. "I figured the pictures were faked somehow. Then, last night, Mom and Dad told me I had to go to bed early because they were going to have a grown-up party, I tried to sneak out of my room, only I couldn't because they'd locked the door. Well, I went out the window, over the porch roof and down the drain pipe. I went around to the side of the house where I could stand on a box and look in the living room window, because there's one shade you can't pull all the way to the bottom. I found out you were telling the truth, Lil. I saw Mom with all her clothes off letting some guy screw her right on the carpet in front of the fireplace. All I could see of him was his butt, so I don't know who he was, but I'm sure it wasn't Daddy. Daddy was on the other side of the room with your mother. He had his thing in her mouth and was hunching at her like a puppy does on your leg. Gosh! Do all parents act like that, Lil?"
Lil shrugged. "Most of them, I suppose. Anyway, ours sure do. Have you done it with any guys yet, Sissy?"
Sissy blushed. "Well ... not exactly. I let one of the boys in my class at school take my panties off and play with me with his finger. I played with his too, and I made him squirt that stuff ... you know."
Lil nodded. "You have to be broken in, and you have to learn how to do it right, before you can make any money. Rundy would sure like to get his hands on you, and so would Fletcher, but they're too big and too rough for a beginner. I guess I could make Mark Devlin screw you, but I think I've got a better idea. I believe we'll just keep you a virgin for awhile until I get this thing better organized. I'll bet there's some older guy in town would pay plenty to pop a twelve-year-old's cherry. Okay?"
"Anything you say, Lil. Only ... well, now that I've made up my mind, I'm kind of anxious to get started. Gee, sex is pretty exciting, isn't it?"
"It's the most," Lil agreed fervently. "Don't you know how to jack off?" Sissy nodded.
"You can do that all you want," Lil told her, "but don't go sticking things up your pussy. I don't want your cherry popped until we can get some big money for it."
She wasn't as lenient with the Barstow sisters, when they came to her on Friday night and announced their willingness to take up a life of prostitution.
"I figure both of you chicks have been diddling the boys in school," Lil told them. "But you're going to have to learn what the real thing is all about before I send you out on dates. Come with me." She took them to Nils Rundy's trailer.
"I brought you some fresh meat, Nils," she told the old man. "Will you give both of these kids a good fucking for me?"
Nils looked at her in wonder and shook his gray head. "You just ain't got no morals at all," he declared. "I never seen the like of it. He looked at the two, scared girls and grinned wolfishly, licking his lips. "All right," he said. "Whichever one wants to go first, take your clothes off and get down there on my bed. Good thing you ain't been around so much lately," he said to Lil. "I got a rusty load for them two."
Lil pushed Pat toward the bed. The redhead hesitated, and then began to disrobe. Rundy also stripped to the buff and Lil laughed to see how the eyes of both girls went wide with alarm at the sight of his big, throbbing prick.
"Take it easy," Lil warned him. "I don't want the merchandise damaged. No rough stuff."
Nils grunted and turned to the slender, shivering girl who cowered on the bed, trying to shield both her breasts and her crotch with her hands. Kneeling astraddle her body, he grasped her wrists in his hands and forced her arms above her head so that her firm, young breasts were revealed. He lowered his hips toward hers and jabbed at her with his prick.
"Damn thing won't go in," he complained to Lil. "Her cunt's too dry."
"Of course, it is," Lil agreed, exasperation in her tone. "She's scared half to death, and she isn't hot at all. Don't you know how to warm her up?"
Nils turned bleary, puzzled eyes on her. "I never had to with you," he said.
"I'm different," Lil told him. "Oh, shit! Do I have to do everything around here?" She crossed the small room and seated herself on the edge of the bed beside Pat. "Suck her titties," she directed Nils. "I'll take care of the other end." She slid her hand between the girl's thighs and parted the lips of the vulva with her fingers, feeling through the folds of soft flesh for the clitoris. She found it and worked it, just as she was used to working her own. It was several minutes before Pat began to respond to the dual stimulus of Nils' mouth on her breasts and Lil's expert fingers, but at last, she started to discharge, and her vulva grew moist and warm. Her hips moved, barely stirring at first, and the squirming faster and faster.
"Okay," Lil said to Nils, "she's juiced up for you now. Stick it in her, but try not to hurt her too much." She took the old man's hard cock in her hand and guided it to the opening. As he began his penetration, Lil stood up, an odd look on her face, her eyes gleaming strangely. I liked it! she said to herself and then she repeated it, savoring the exciting newness of the idea. I liked it! I wish I could be Nils for awhile. I'd like to fuck her myself! She turned to Linda, Pat's sister. "I might as well get you ready," she said, giving her voice an exaggerated tone of casualness to hide the eagerness, the sudden pounding of her heart and the flow of blood to the surface of her body that she knew was turning her face a deep red. She sat beside Linda, putting one arm around her and running the other hand up the smooth, sweet shape of the girl's thigh. Linda raised herself on her arms, lifting her buttocks to facilitate the removal of her panties, and she spread her legs for Lil, seeming to know what was expected of her and to be completely willing. When Lil's fingers found the hair-bordered slit and opened it, Linda sighed and buried her face in the hollow of Lil's neck and shoulder.
"Pat and I do this," she whispered to Lil. "We help each other this way every night. It's more fun than doing it alone."
Lil didn't answer. She was too confused by the sudden discovery of this new delight, too full of emotion to trust herself to talk. Linda's cunt was warm and wet and Lil's fingers slid around in it as though in oil. When Linda began kissing her neck and cheek, timidly at first, and then with growing boldness, Lil grew even more excited, but when Linda's fingers undid the buttons of her blouse and her hand slid in to fondle her breasts, Lil found herself blazing with a passion equal to anything she had ever known. My God! This is as good as it is with a man! Oh, Lord, how I'd like to have a prick to fuck her with ... or if she could have a prick to fuck me....
"Let's take our clothes off," Linda suggested. "It's nicer that way. I wish I'd known you liked this ... you and I and Pat could have been having fun together."
"Yes," Lil agreed breathlessly, beginning to strip as quickly as she could. "You're not mad at me then ... I mean for forcing you into doing this with Rundy and all the other things I'm going to make you do?"
Linda giggled. "No. Pat and I talked it over. We think we'll like being whores and we know we need you. We don't have the brains to do it by ourselves. Why not? If our parents can act the way they do, then I guess we can too. Oh, Lil, you have beautiful tits. Let me suck them and let me play with your pussy too."
"I don't want you to come," Lil said. "I want you to save that for doing it with Rundy. Look at Pat. She's beginning to enjoy it."
Pat had her arms and legs wrapped around Nils and was arching her body to meet his. She was kissing him frantically as he screwed her.
"She isn't having any more fun than I am," Linda said, putting her mouth over one of Lil's nipples and her hand to Lil's crotch.
They clung together, their bodies glistening with sweat from the exertion of petting and from the heat of their aroused passions. Despite Lil's determination not to bring Linda to an orgasm, she felt her own body responding to the other girl's eager lovemaking. When the gathering storm in her loins began to escape her control, it seemed to her that the most desirable thing in the world was to make Linda come too. She wanted the feeling of Linda's body torn by the force of climax, palpitant and quivering in her arms. It was a blind, heedless need that blotted out all other considerations. Her deft fingers that knew so well how to manipulate a clitoris, drew Linda along into an orgasm that matched her own. The two girls were so involved in their mutual orgy that they were oblivious to the grunting, moaning sounds coming from the bed as Pat and Rundy also achieved their goal.
When it was over for all of them, Rundy turned his head, his eyes popping with surprise at sight of the two girls still welded together, their slender, graceful legs entwined, their hands in each other's crotches. "Didn't know you was a damn queer," he said to Lil in disgust. "This one's a better fuck than you anyway. She can come to see old Nils anytime."
Pat hugged him and kissed his leathery cheek. "I will," she promised. "I've never had anyone but boys before. You're better than any boy."
"It's Linda's turn," Lil announced, ignoring Rundy's remark. "He won't be ready for awhile, but I'll show you girls how to hurry a man up that way. Now watch how I do this." She disengaged herself from Linda and, motioning for Pat to get up, she sat on the edge of the bed and took Rundy's limber prick in her mouth.
"Gosh!" Pat whispered in awe. "Look at that, Linda. She's sucking his cock!"
Feeling schoolteacher-ish in her role as instructor, and not above the vanity of showing off her skill, Lil sucked Rundy's big prick until it had regained part of its former rigidity. "Now you try it," she said to Linda. "Come over here and I'll show you how."
"Aw, go on," Pat urged her when Linda expressed a reluctance to indulge in the erotic act. "How are we going to learn to be whores if we chicken out now? If you won't do it, I will."
Spurred on by this challenge from her sibling, Linda took Lil's place on the bed and gingerly accepted the cock in her mouth, trying to do as Lil directed her.
"Now, when you've got it good and hard," Lil told her, "let him fuck you."
"Am I going to get to do that too?" Pat asked when Lil joined her on the seat at the side of the trailer.
"Sure," Lil told her. "When Linda is through with him. Although, to tell you the truth, the old bastard is hardly ever good for more than twice. Don't worry. I'll see that both of you learn to suck cocks and to get fucked in the ass too."
"Doesn't that hurt?"
"Yes, but you get used to it pretty quick." She put her arm around Pat's shoulders. "Let me kiss you."
"Where?"
Lil was puzzled by the question. "Why ... why, on the lips and ... and on the titties, of course."
Pat looked at her slyly. "Oh," she said, "I thought maybe you wanted to kiss me ... you know ... down there." She was blushing.
It was a new thought for Lil. The possibility had not occurred to her when she was engaging in mutual masturbation with Linda. But why not? Why couldn't she do the same thing to Pat that Armond had so often done to her? It was an exciting idea and she suddenly knew that she wanted to, wanted to very much, in fact.
"You and Linda do that to each other?" she asked Pat.
The girl hung her head so that her red hair hid her face. She nodded. "Sometimes," she said in a barely audible whisper.
"AH right," Lil said. She knelt on the floor as Pat leaned back against the wall of the trailer and spread her legs. Lil pushed her face into the "Y" thus formed, feeling the silky coolness of Pat's inner thighs brushing her cheeks. She stared at the wide-open vulva, its coral-tinted convolutions holding a gluey mixture of Rundy's semen and Pat's bodily discharge, like melted frosting above the pink cavern of her vagina. She could see the mound under the soft, wet flesh that was the clitoris.
What a beautiful thing! I didn't know that a pussy was so pretty. And the smell! No wonder I always liked to smell of my own fingers after I did it to myself She pushed forward, her mouth opening to cover the delicacy, her tongue licking at the tender flesh, slurping up the colloidal deposit that had the familiar taste of Rundy's semen and the newer, more exotic flavor of woman's musk. She remembered how Armond Fletcher had done it to her and she imitated his actions, sucking Pat's clitoris into her mouth and butterflying it with the tip of her tongue.
"Oh, that's good!" Pat cried. "That's so good, Lil!" Her body was squirming, her fingers tangling themselves in Lil's blond hair.
Lil's hands were petting the sleek, smooth thighs and running up Pat's body to feel of her breasts. Her own hips were moving in a rotary motion, just as though she was being fucked, the sliding action of her thighs causing the lips of her own vulva to caress her clitoris with al ternate strokes. To her amazement, she experienced a powerful orgasm, and then another one, before Pat succumbed to the vigorous tongue and went into a wild climax.
Long after Pat, exhausted and temporarily drained of sexual energy, had ceased to do more than feebly stir and sigh deeply, Lil stayed between her legs, kissing and licking the tender, swollen cunt.
When the two girls had reduced Nils Rundy to the point of no longer being able to achieve an erection, Lil declared that school was out for the night and she went to her room to brood on the strange turn of affairs that had reversed her role from that of instructor to impromptu participant.
The next morning she had a chance to speak to Dora Harmon, learning that Dora was now a frequent visitor at the house of Armond Fletcher.
"You said all he wanted was to look at me and kiss me," Dora complained accusingly.
"Well, what does he do to you?" Lil demanded.
"He screws me," Dora replied. "He says I'm a better fuck than you are." Her little chin was lifted proudly and her eyes were defiant. "He says he don't need you coming back there no more."
Lil laughed. "That's the second time I've been told that lately. Don't worry, little angel, I don't want him back. You can have him all to yourself."
Mark Devlin came to see her just before noon. He was sullen and angry in defeat. "Okay, you win," he told her grudgingly. "What my parents are doing makes me sick, but I can't let you expose them to the whole town. What do you want me to do?"
Lil smiled triumphantly. "Your first job will be tonight," she told him. "Bring your best camera and some rolls of infra-red film. We're going to pay a visit to Armond Fletcher, only he won't be aware that you're there. While I'm talking to him about some money he owes me, you'll be hiding in the kitchen, ready to snap some shots of he and Dora Harmon together. He's going to be surprised that he's not the only one who can play at this game of blackmail, the bastard."
Mark nodded. "Okay. I guess I don't mind. I don't like Fletcher an way. What else?"
"You ever screw a girl?"
Mark blushed and shook his head. "No ," he murmured.
"Well, you'll lose your virginity tonight then. After we get through at Armond's, well come back here. The Barstow twins need practice at sucking cocks and especially at getting cornholed. I want you to fuck them in the ass. Rundy is too big to get them started that way. He might split them."
Mark's face was beet red. "For Christ's sake, Lil, haven't you got any decency at all? You won't be satisfied until you've turned us kids into animals, will you?"
She laughed. "My, my! Aren't you the boy scout, though? Are you trying to protect the maidenly virtue of Pat and Linda? You should have seen them getting the shit fucked out of them by old Rundy ... and loving it. Don't you ever get hot pants, Mark? I understand you're pretty sweet on Susan Prine. Haven't you ever dreamed of undressing her and playing with her titties?
Mark twisted his hands together until the knuckles whitened. His eyes were anguished, but he didn't reply.
"Well, you'll get the chance. I'll teach her to suck your cock and let you suck her pussy, and I'll even make her let you fuck her in the ass. I'm saving her cherry for business purposes, but you can do everything else with her. Doesn't that sound good to you?"
"You're wicked!"" Mark snarled at her. "You're evil and ... and ... terrible!"
"Then why have you got a hard on?" Lil taunted him. "I can see it right through your pants."
Guiltily, he clamped his legs together, his hands clasping defensively over his crotch.
"Unbuckle your belt and take your pants down," Lil snapped at him, dropping her attitude of playful bantering. Her tone became one of command. "Take your pants down and show me that little pecker you're so ashamed of. You'll either learn to do what I say or I'll take those damned pictures down to the newspaper office this minute."
Mark blanched and looked at her in terror. His hands went to his belt and zipper. His trousers and underwear were pushed down to below his hips, revealing the white band where his swimming trunks had protected him from the sun. His cock stood erect and rigid from the wedge of brown, crinkly hair.
"That's better," Lil told him, her voice softer. She moved over beside him and took the organ in her hand, stroking it. "Wouldn't you like to see me with my clothes off?" she asked him, her tone wheedling. "No use letting those kids be first with you. You'll be recharged by tonight, I guess. Doesn't that feel good, Mark?"
"I don't know," he muttered. His face was averted from hers, his eyes closed as he lay half-across her bed.
Lil slipped out of her blouse and skirt, rolling her panties down and then freeing her legs from them. "Look, Mark," she demanded. "Look at me. I'm naked. I'll bet you've never been so close to a naked girl before."
Mark opened his eyes, closed them quickly and then opened them wide.
Laughing, Lil rolled over on top of him, rubbing her breasts on his face, drawing the nipples across his lips. She put one hand down to fumbled between them for his cock, got it started into her vagina.
"I never did rape a guy before," she said, giggling.
CHAPTER FIVE
"That was pretty slick," Lil said to Mark Devlin. "Old fuzzy balls doesn't even suspect that he just posed for his picture with one finger in Dora Harmon's little cunt. You're sure you got both of their faces in the shoe?"
"Shooting in the dark with infra-red, it's hard to tell," Mark told her, "so I took three snaps. One of them is bound to turn out to be exactly what you want. Lil, do I really have to do what you said ... I mean with Pat and Linda? It's ... well, darn it, it's embarrassing."
Lil chuckled. They were walking through the tree-darkened tunnel of the night along the street on which she lived. She stopped to face him, putting a hand on his arm. "You were great today," she said, "up there in my room with me. You said I have a beautiful body. Well, the Barstow twins are just as well stacked as I am, and they're both hotter than a gasoline fire. Why don't you just relax and enjoy them?"
"I'd rather do it with you."
"I thought you hated me."
"I thought so too, but I found out different. Why don't you quit all this crazy stuff you've started, Lil, and just be my girl? When I think of you doing it with old guys like Rundy and Fletcher, it makes me sick."
Lil patted his cheek and then, impulsively, she kissed him lightly on the mouth. "Thanks for the offer," she said, "but you don't know what you're asking for. The worst thing that could happen to you would be to have me for your girl. I'm not like other girls, Mark. I don't know how to explain it because I haven't really tried to figure it out. I don't give a damn and I like being the way I am. I wouldn't change if I could."
"I don't understand," Mark said. "I don't know what you mean."
"Of course, you don't. Look, I'll spell it out for you. I go to bed with older men because I prefer them. They're cruel and sadistic and they hurt me sometimes. I love that. You see, they're adults, and every time an adult abuses me it gives me an excuse, justification for hurting them. I'd kill every god damned grown-up in the world if I could. I can't do that, so I do the next best thing, I hit the rotten bastards in their pocketbooks and in their pride."
"Even your own folks?"
"Especially my own folks. You think they had me because they wanted me? Ha! I've seen my own birth certificate and my mother and father's marriage license. They got married because the rubber broke, or because he forgot to pull it out on time, and they didn't do it any too soon either. I was born six months later."
"You'll be an adult yourself someday," Mark reminded her. "What then?"
"I hope not," she said solemnly. "I hope I don't live that long. A short, fast life is my idea of it and then get the hell out of this mess before I grow old."
Mark shook his head. "You're just bitter. I think you'll get over it. If you were my girl...."
Lil laughed mirthlessly. "Forget it, Mark. I'm not for you. I'm just what you called me, evil and wicked and I'm a natural-born two-timer, like my sweet, bitchy, slut of a mother. You'd get tired of having to stand in line to screw me. Think you'd like sharing me with every other guy and girl in town?"
"Girls?"
"Sure. I like pussy as well as I do cock, maybe even a little better. Wati 'til we get up to my room and Pat and Linda show up. When you see me sucking their cunts you won't want me for a sweetheart. I hope Sissy Prine is there tonight. I could eat her like a candy bar."
Mark's face was pale in the dim light, but he didn't say anything.
When they arrived at her house, and went up the back stairs to her room, Lil immediately stripped out of her clothes and made Mark do the same. She was playing with his cock when the other three girls came in.
"Gosh!" Sissy exclaimed, blushing at sight of the naked boy on the bed. The twins giggled and began at once to disrobe.
"He's all yours," Lil said to them. "This isn't a business meeting, or even school, just a sort of practice session. Pat, there's a jar of vaseline on the dresser, put some on his prick and let him fuck you in the ass. Then Linda can suck him until he gets hard again and take her turn at it. Come on, Sissy, you get undressed too. I'm going to introduce you to a kind of sex that may never make us any money, but sure as hell is lots of fun."
Sissy looked doubtful, but she didn't know how to cope with Lil's masterful way of taking charge and issuing orders. She allowed the older girl to undress her and pull her down to one end of the bed.
"God, but you've got the cutest, little boobies!" Lil cried. "I'll bet there isn't a man in town who wouldn't sell his soul to feel of them. I would myself." She put her open mouth on one of Sissy's breasts, sucking most of the hard, prettily shaped nubbin into her mouth. Her hands were quickly exploring the white, smooth flesh of Sissy's hips and thighs. She worked one in between the girl's legs and rubbed her almost hairless crotch.
"What are you doing?" the bewildered Sissy asked.
"Hush," Lil admonished her. "Just lie still and I'll show you. Haven't you ever jacked off?"
"Just a few times," Sissy admitted. "Who taught you?"
"My Uncle Fred."
"Why, the old bastard! He didn't screw you, did he!"
"Ununh. He got me to come into his room once and he kissed me and felt me all over. Then he put his hand inside my panties and did that to me with his finger. He took his cock out and let me play with it, then he tried to get it into me, but I was too small, so he had me do it for him with my hand while he jacked me off. We did that every chance we got until my mother saw me coming out of his room one time. She got awfully mad at him and made him leave. I didn't think she'd do that, because he used to spend a lot of time in her bedroom while Daddy was at work. I didn't know what they were doing in there until the other night when I saw my folks having that party I told you about."
"Didn't he ever suck your pussy?"
"No. What's that?"
"I'll show you." Lil slid down on the bed, spread the girl's thighs and opened the vulva with ther tongue. "You like it?" she asked a few minutes later.
"Yeah," Sissy replied. "It feels real good, Lil. I didn't know girls did things like this to each other. I wonder why Uncle Fred didn't do it."
"Some men are stupid," Lil told her. "You've got a sweet, little cunt. I could suck it forever. Ask your mother if you can spend the night with me sometime soon We'll have plenty of fun and I'll teach you to lick me, too. Would you like that?"
"I don't know. I guess it'd be all right to try it. Don't stop, Lil. I think I'm going to come."
Lil returned to her delightful chore, vigorously licking the small clitoris, pausing only now and then to thrust her tongue as far as it would go into Sissy's vagina. She loved the pressure of the young, tender limbs on either side of her face and the writhing response of Sissy's body to a rising tide of passion. She stopped once to look around at Pat. The redhead was on her hands and knees. Mark, behind her, was pumping his cock furiously in and out of her ass. Pat's face was twisted into a mask of mingled pain and pleasure. Once she cried out, instantly stiffling the sound with her own hand across her mouth. The next time Lil looked, Mark was on his back and Linda was sucking his cock.
Sissy came to a tumultuous climax, discharging freely and sobbing with rapture as Lil continued to suck and lick her greedily.
They were all startled by a thunderous banging on the door.
"Lil. Lilith. Come out here. I want to talk to you." The voice was that of Lil's father. It was loud and charged with both anger and menace.
"Okay, Dad," Lil replied, getting up from Sissy and wiping her mouth and chin with her hand. She grinned at the startled faces of the others. "Don't sweat it," she advised them. "I can handle this." She unlatched the door and slipped out into the hallway, closing it quickly behind her.
"Lil!" John Norstrom bellowed at his daughter. "What's the meaning of this? What the hell are you coming out here with your clothes off for? Have you got a boy in there?"
Lil smiled up at him. "Of course, I've got a boy in there, Daddy dear. In fact I've got quite a sex party going. You know ... like the ones you and Mom have when Mrs. Prine sucks your prick and Mr. Devlin screws Mom. Fun, isn't it?"
For a moment, Lil wondered if her father was going to have a heart attack. His handsome face seemed to be turning an interesting shade of purple, and his eyes looked as though they were about to fly out of his head with a twang like a released spring. "Why, you...!" he growled hoarsely, then he brought his right hand up in a swinging blow that caught her on the side of the face and knocked her to the floor.
Lil made no attempt to get up. She lay there, looking up at him and still smiling. Her legs were spread akimbo and she was totally exposed to his view. "That was nice," she said. "It makes me hot to have you hit me. Don't you want to fuck me now, Daddy? I know you do. You've been wanting to for a long time. Come on. We can hear Mom if she starts up the stairs. Not that I give a damn. I'd just as soon do it in front of her."
"Shut up!" he yelled at her, his features contorted with fury. "Shut up talking like that. Who told you those lies about your mother and I?"
She laughed throatily. "They aren't lies. Bob Fletcher took a lot of pictures. Don't you remember? I have them ... and the negatives. I'd be glad to show you the prints, but don't start looking for the negatives. They are not in this house and you'll never find them. Come on, Daddy, I wanta be fucked. Look, you've got a hard on." She giggled and put her hands to her crotch, using her fingers to spread her vulva even wider.
He stood teetering, a man in shock, yet torn with indecision and conflicting desires almost to the point of insanity. Then, with an inarticulate groan of anguish, he fled from her, hurrying down the stairs on heedless, stumbling feet like a drunk.
"I never lock my door at night. Daddy," Lil called after him. "Come up and see me sometime." She was laughing when she went back into her room. "He won't bother us anymore tonight," she told the others. From now on, I give the orders around this house and he knows it. Next time I tell him to fuck me he'll do it or else."
"Your own father?" Mark's eyes held disbelief and horror.
"Why not? And I'll make Mom sit there and watch it if I take a notion to."
"We caught our father peeping in through the bedroom window when we were undressing. Didn't we, Linda?" Pat said.
Linda nodded. "When I was ten, he wanted to show me how to shoot a bow and arrow. He stood behind me and put his arms around me and I could feel his hard on poking me in the ass. He doesn't kiss me goodnight the same way when Mom is there as he does when she isn't, either."
"Same with me," Pat contributed.
"That's adults," Lil said, shrugging her shoulders. "Hey, look, Mark is getting another hard. Good. Linda, how about teaching Sissy how to suck a cock? Pat and I are going to have a little fun with each other while you're doing that. Come on, you gorgeous redhead, let's suck. I'll bet my mother and father are downstairs having a hell of an argument about how to get themselves out of this mess they're in. Fuck 'em."
It was the following Monday before Mark finished developing the pictures he had taken of Armond Fletcher and Dora Harmon. They were still wet from the darkroom when he and Lil looked at them in his basement laboratory.
"Perfect!" Lil cried, clapping her hands with delight. "Look at the expression on the old bastard's face. And look at this one, where Dora is playing with his cock. Mark, you're a genius. Hasn't she got a pretty little body for a kid? I'll bet you'd like to fuck her yourself, wouldn't you? I'll have to ask her mother if she can spend the night with me. Take good care of these. I'll pick them up this evening. Be sure you make plenty of copies. See you later."
Smiling happily to herself, Lil walked downtown and turned in at the police station. She told the desk sergeant she had an appointment with Chief Donovan.
"Gee, Miss Nordstrom, I hope you aren't having trouble of some kind," he said earnestly. "Go on in. I don't think he's busy right now," he told her when she assured him that she was having no trouble at all. She twinkled a devastating smile at him as she went through the gate by his desk. He was the youngest and best looking man on the force, not quite old enough to be classified as one of the hated adults, even though he was a cop.
Donovan looked up, starteled to see her open the door of his office and walk in. His fat face wrinkled in a frown. "What the hell you doing here?" he growled. "Ain't you got no better sense than to come waltzing in here like this?"
She gave him the same dazzling smile she had given the desk sergeant. "Now don't be cranky, chiefy," she said, going over to stand beside him. "I got tired of waiting for you to call. I thought you liked me." She pouted at him.
"Don't call me 'chiefy'," he told her, but his scowl disappeared and his green eyes began to glow as he took in her trim, girlish figure, her well-filled blouse and the mini skirt that revealed her pretty legs halfway up her thighs. "I been busy," he said lamely. "What's the matter ... your asshole twitching for another good reeming?"
She dimpled at him and arched her back so that her breasts were almost touching his face. "Armond and I broke up," she said, "and I keep thinking about you all the time." She took one of his hands and moved it from the desk to her leg, then leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. She felt his start of surprise when he discovered that she was wearing no underwear. He thrust two fingers up her pussy and she squirmed on them, enjoying the rough way they penetrated her. She forced her tongue between his lips and into his mouth.
"Goddamnit!" he cursed, "I'd fuck you right here if I wasn't afraid someone would get wise to what was going on."
"How about that house on King Street you told me about?" she suggested. "I can spend the night with you whenever you say."
"You really got hot pants for me, ain't you? Okay. Here's the address. Be there tonight at nine. I'm going to give you a fucking you'll remember for awhile. Now don't come here to my office anymore. You'll blow the whole deal for both of us."
"I won't if you don't neglect me again. See you tonight." She pulled reluctantly away from his wet fingers and straightened her skirt. "Better wipe the lipstick off," she reminded him as, laughing, she went out of his office door.
Lil's parents had both avoided her since she had had the confrontation with her father on Saturday night. She didn't mind. She would have it out with them when she saw fit, and it would be strictly on her own terms. Since she had plenty of money of her own, she had stopped eating at home and took all of her meals at hamburger stands. She dined at her favorite place, one where she could sit at an outdoor table and display her legs to all passersby on the sidewalk of the main street. As she reflectively sipped coke through a straw, she amused herself by watching for the startled looks she received from men and boys going about their business. It was always the same. First there was the glance that took in her perfectly shaped legs, bare nearly to her hips. That one always caused them to break stride. Some of them actually stumbled. Then they would look hastily away, pretending they had seen nothing unusual and weren't interested anyway. Not more than three steps later, however, they invariably sneaked another look. A few would stop and pretend to be studying the display in Wharton's Drug Store window, while covetly continuing to eye her legs. Some made the trip by the hamburger stand four or five times while she was sitting there.
The women amused her too. Most of them gave her dirty looks, then went haughtily off with their noses in the air as though the sight of a pretty, young girl was personally offensive to them. There were one or two, however, who stared as greedily as the men, licking their painted lips, their eyes glazed with desire. When she smiled invitingly at them, they flushed and hurried on.
Phony bunch of bastards ... all of them. There isn't one of those guys ... young or old ... who wouldn't try to pick me up if he had the nerve. Helluva goddamned world this is ... full of hypocrites and cowards. If that's what it's like to be an adult, I hope I die young ... like I told Mark.
Tiring of the game, she went to a matinee, sitting twice through the main feature. Out of sheer boredom, she slipped her hand under her skirt and, safe from prying eyes in the darkness of the sparsely attended movie, she masturbated over and over.
That evening she went to Mark's house to get the photos from him and take them to Armond Fletcher. Armond was furious with her.
"You dirty, little tramp," he roared at her, "you're not going to get away with this!"
"Not?" she inquired coolly. "Just what do you think you can do about it?"
"By God, you keep this up and somebody will do something about it! They'll find you floating in Willow Creek. That's what will happen. You mark my word, you bitch!"
"I couldn't care less," she told him, "but it won't do them any good. Copies of any pictures I get will always be in safe hands, with instructions where to send them if anything happens to me. I'm sure your wife, for instance, would enjoy seeing you in the role of the great lover ... with a tenyear-old child."
Armond groaned in defeat. "All right, damn your rotten soul. How much?"
Li! grinned triumphantly. "No money. Not now at least. No, I have a better place for you in my organization, one more suited to your talents and your character. You're going to pimp for us."
"What?"
"That's right. I have three young girls, beside myself, who are anxious to get into the big money. I'm sure you know most of the old lechers in town, the ones like yourself who would pay well to get a crack at a young, pretty girl, if they could be sure they weren't running any risk. You will make the appointments for us, keep us well supplied with dates. To begin with, I have a girl who is only twelve and a virgin. She's a raving little beauty too. Whoever gets to be first with her is going to have to kick through with five-hundred dollars. I want that one set up right away. Get busy on it."
Armond spread his hands in hopeless despair. "How can I approach anyone with that kind of a proposition? I'll be lucky if I don't wind up in jail."
Lil smiled wickedly. "Yes, you will, won't you? But I'm counting on the famous Fletcher brainpower. As principal of the high school, you've always tried to give us kids the impression that you were just a little smarter than God. Okay now, big shot, let's see how you do. You'll have to excuse me now. I've got a date with our old buddy, Hootch Donovan. When I get through with that son of a bitch he'll have a few things to think about too."
CHAPTER SIX
Lil stretched luxuriously. While her back was arched, her legs tensed and her feet pointed like a ballet dancer. She ran her hands over her breasts, her flat stomach, hips and thighs. She liked the contact of her hands with the smooth perfection of her own skin. She relaxed, smiling, pleased with the fact that she felt a euphoric rapport with life and with herself. During the preceding three hours, her body had known nearly every sensation of which it was capable and now it was like a violin so exquisitely tuned it could almost make music by itself without the aid of a bow. She regreted that she was not a cat. Only purring could have adequately expressed her feeling of profound well being.
Hootch Donovan lay beside her on the bed, his reclining position accentuating the grossness of his fat body. He had kept his promise to give her a fucking she would remember for awhile. She doubted if she would ever forget it. She moved one arm so that her hand lay lightly on his flaccid prick and her fingers idly began to play with the foreskin.
"Christ's sake!" he said to her, "don't you ever get enough?"
She laughed. "No. Oh, I'm not really ready right now, but I just like to play with it. Do you know the Barstow twins?"
"The redheads? Yeah. Couple of cute chicks. I hear they fuck the boys in school."
"Sure they do, but they'll do it with older guys too, if they get the chance and if the price is right."
"You mean those kids are selling it?"
"They've just started, but they're being very careful. I could arrange it for you, if you want one of them, or both for that matter. Interested?"
He reared his bulk up on one elbow and regarded her intently, his green eyes shrewd. "Why the hell would you do that? What you getting out of it?"
"A cut. Naturally. I'm sort of their manager. They don't put out to anybody unless I say so."
"You whoring too? You think I'm going to pay you for tonight?"
"I wouldn't charge you, honey. You're so good I feel more like paying you. But, if you want a little variety, I can fix you up with one of my girls and, of course, you have to pay for that. The kids are entitled to their share. Of course, I'll give you a discount. I've got to keep you happy so you'll want me often too. I couldn't live without this." She gave his prick an affectionate pat. She watched him closely and with secret amusement to see the effect of her flattery on him. Sucker! she thought. He goes for it like a kid goes for candy.
"I didn't know you was in the business," he told her. "You're a sharp kid. I ain't use to paying for it. Hell, I get it rubbed all over me every day, but the real young stuff ain't laying around all over the place. Mostly it's too damned dangerous to fool with. You're sure these Barstow kids are okay?"
"You've got my guarantee of that. I've got something on them and they don't dare cross me. A real man like you could take care of both of them at once. They get a hundred bucks apiece for spending the night, but you can have them for fifty. I've got another ready to work, but she's a virgin and she's pnly twelve. The first man with her is going to have to cough up five-hundred. I can't let her go for less, and I wouldn't ask you for that much money, so that's why I mentioned the twins."
He nodded, his eyes narrowing as he considered her proposition, but she felt his prick begin to stiffen under her fingers, and she knew he was thinking about the Barstow sisters, visualizing their naked, young bodies on this same bed. She helped him out a little by tightening her grip on his prick and massaging it more briskly.
"Okay," he said at last. "You set it up for tomorrow night and I'll take 'em both, but you know I don't let no kind of rackets go on in this town that I don't have control of. You're gonna need protection, you know."
"Why do you think I told you about it?" she countered. "I'm hep that I can't operate without you. Let me get this thing on a paying basis and then we'll talk about your cut."
He chuckled. "I think I'm gonna like doing business with you. Goddamnit, I thought I was crapped out for the night and now you got me ready again. You gonna cut the price on that twelve-year-old after you've sold her cherry?"
"Sure. I'll see that you get her when she's only second-hand. She's got the whitest skin, and little boobies no bigger than golf balls. Still got baby fat on her and she's as cuddly as a puppy." She felt his prick throb in her hand as he listened to this description of Sissy Prine.
"I'm ready," he said. "How do you want it?"
"Any way that suits you, but I like jacking-off while you fuck me in the mouth."
"Yeah, that's okay."
The only way in which he disappointed her was in his disinclination to tongue her clitoris. Like Rundy, he apparently considered this erotic act to be somehow nasty and unmanly.
She slid down on the bed, curling herself into a comfortable position as she took his cock in her mouth and put her hand in her crotch. She was going to double-cross him. Even as she was sucking his cock, she was planning how to get Mark into the house to take pictures of Donovan with the two Barstow girls. Then she would have him entirely in her power and there would be no more question of a cut for him out of her profits. Quite the contrary. She needed the King Street house as a base of operations and she would get it. She also needed his protection, and she would also get that, but at no cost to her. She knew that Donovan could be an enemy of no mean order, a deadly dangerous man, not only capable of murder, but possessed of the brains and the organizational facilities to get away with it. None of these considerations deterred her in the least. They only added a spicy thrill to the adventure. What did bother her was the thought that she might make him so angry that she would lose him as a lover. She adored his fat, ugly body and there was something in his coarse brutality and basic sadism that excited her, fulfilled a nameless need germane to the twisted, evil thing she had become.
With his big cock in her mouth, its red, pointed head slipping rhythmically in and out through the surrounding foreskin to glide back and forth on her tongue, her fingers deftly working her clitoris, she experienced one delightful orgasm after another, happy in the knowledge that she had already so worn him down and exhausted him that it would take him a long time to reach another climax, thus prolonging the pleasure of sucking him and of masturbating. When he did come, she knew it would be the last effort he would be capable of for the night. But, after they'd had a few hours sleep ... Maybe in the morning....
The sun was high in the summer sky when Lil walked the few blocks from the King Street house to her home. She had planned her arrival to coincide with the hour at which her parents would be finishing their breakfast. They were just getting up from the table when she came in through the back door.
"Ummm. Bacon and eggs. You can fix me some too." She sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, crossing her legs and deliberately hitching her skirt up to her hips to expose her bare, gleaming thighs. It amused her to see that her mother and father looked pale and nervous, avoiding her eyes and obviously wanting to flee from the room, yet not daring.
Delia Nordstrom gulped, her mouth twitching as though it had developed a tic. "Where have you been?" she asked Lil. She was making a great effort to sound stern, but only succeeding in giving away the fact that she was a badly frightened woman.
"Having a ball, Mommy dear," Lil replied lightly, her blue eyes innocent. "I'm really quite peeved at you two. You could have told me about sex. Oh, I don't mean that silly stuff about the birds and the bees. I mean about how much fun it is. Now was that nice ... to keep all the good times to yourselves and leave me to find out all the facts of life on my own? Well, I'll forgive you, you dears, providing we cut out the nonsense and understand each other after this. I'm sure you know what I mean." She smiled sweetly at them.
Her father sat at the table, his fists clenched in front of him and a muscle flickering at the side of his jaw. Her mother looked even paler and more stricken than before. "About those pictures, Lil," she said, her voice low and tortured, "there are things about adults I'm sure you don't understand. You see, dear, we...."
Lil interrupted her with a peal of merry laughter. "Stop, Mother," she said, "you're killing me. After seeing the excellent photography of Bob Fletcher, what could there possibly be about adults that I don't now understand? If I needed more information, you certainly provided that the night when I stood in the kitchen of Nils Rundy's trailer and watched him do you dog fashion before you sucked his cock."
Delia flinched and her face reddened.
John Nordstrom raised his head to look at his daughter with eyes that mirrored an internal anguish. "What do you want from us?" he asked hoarsely.
"Nothing much, Daddykins," Lil replied, favoring him with a dimpled smile. "Just equal status around here. No more 'do this, Lilith' or 'don't do that, Lilith.' From now on I go and come as I please, do as I please, wear what I please and no questions or orders. Understood? When I bring men and girls up to my room for a little sex orgy, no more pounding on the door and embarrassing questions in front of my friends. Okay?"
Her parents nodded in unison, apparently relieved at the simplicity of her demands.
"Now," Lil said more firmly, "I think we ought to have a little celebration in honor of my new independence, don't you? I've been getting fucked all night, but I'm not the least bit tired and I'm a long way from being satisfied. If Daddy is going to fuck all the women in town, I don't think it's fair of him to leave me out. Do you, Momma?"
John Nordstrom turned pale again and Delia's eyes went wide with shock.
"You wouldn't!" Delia whispered in horror.
"Lil ... I'm your own father!" her father protested.
Lil laughed. "I don't see how you can be sure ... the way Mother dear splatters her ass around all over the neighborhood. Anyway, I think a bit of incest might be fun. Besides, don't tell me Daddykins hasn't thought of it. I'm not that dumb."
John Nordstrom looked at his wife, his eyes imploring her help in this impossible situation.
Delia shrugged. "I suppose you might as well," she told him, her voice hollow with despair. "If that's what she wants, I don't see how we can get out of it. She's just vicious enough to spread copies of those photos all over town. She's right about one thing too. You do want her. You have since she was twelve."
"Oh, I do love you, Mother!" Lil exclaimed. "And I admire you too. You're so practical. Let's all go in the bedroom. I can hardly wait."
"Why me?" her mother asked. "You don't need my help for what you have in mind."
"Oh, but I do. I want you right there in the bed with us. It will make it more intimate ... more family. And I love an audience when I fuck. I'd like to do it in the middle of Main Street with the whole town watching."
"You're crazy," her mother told her, "and perverted. Well, come on, we might as well get it over with."
"I wouldn't want you to feel left out of things," Lil said to her solicitously. "We can invite Nils in to make it a foursome."
"No!" Delia said sharply. "That's going too damned far. This is shameful enough without bringing strangers into it."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mother," Lil replied with mock contrition. "I didn't know you and Daddy had any shame. All right. Let's go. I'm just burning up."
Wordlessly, like a man stunned by a massive dose of drugs, Lil's father rose from the table and walked toward the bedroom, the mother and daughter following. As soon as they had closed the door behind them, Lil slipped out of her dress. She wore no underwear. "Come on," she commanded them, "take your clothes off.
Her father stared at her voluptuously developed body then began to unbutton his shirt. His wife had only to remove the housecoat she was wearing. They got into the bed and under the covers, Lil in the middle. She began immediately to kiss her father and to play with his prick, but he lay there like a wooden man responding to neither her kisses nor her ardent hands.
"What's the matter, Daddykins?" Lil purred. "Aren't you in the mood. I'll bet I know how to snap you out of it." Laughing gaily, she ducked under the sheet and took his soft cock in her mouth, sucking so avidly that it hollowed her cheeks.
"The goddamned, little bitch sucks cocks, too!" her mother muttered. "Where the hell did she learn all this?"
Lil reached over to touch her mother's thigh, feeling the older woman start with surprise at this unexpected contact. But she made no effort to stop her daughter when Lil's fingers slid into her crotch and began stroking her clitoris.
Slowly, her father's prick began to swell and stiffen in her mouth and his hips to squirm. She was aware that his breathing had become heavier, more labored and she was delighted to note that her mother's body was also now twisting and turning in passionate response to the clever fingers.
"Now, Daddy," Lil said, rising from under the covers, her blue eyes shining with lust, "you can fuck me, only do it to me from behind. Either hole. Momma, turn this way so I can suck you. For an old bag, you have a beautiful body. No wonder all the men in town go for you. Ah! That's it, Daddy. Fuck it into me! Spread your legs, Momma. Mmmmm!"
John Nordstrom had been generously equipped by nature. His prick was bigger than either Nils Rundy's or Hootch Donovan's. Lil shoved her ass back against him as hard as she could, helping him thrust more deeply into her rectum than she had ever been penetrated. She was licking and sucking eagerly at Delia's vulva and was delighted when her mother began having a series of multiple orgasms. She was both amazed and thrilled when her mother, after coming several times, buried her face in Lil's crotch and began tonguing her clitoris only an inch from where John's cock plunged in and out of their daughter's asshole.
Lil soon discovered that her mother was as expert as she at cunt sucking, and apparently as enthusiastic. She soon came violently. Added to the lust-crammed intoxication of the mutual homosexuality of love-making with another woman, and the feel of the big cock now rampaging roughly in her anus, was the rapturous thrill of knowing how wicked she was being, that these were her own parents she was enjoying so much.
She lost herself in the warmth and passion of being firmly sandwiched between two gyrating bodies, and her coming was a departure from reality, a drifting away onto a plane of existence that consisted only of succulent flesh and finely drawn nerves. When her father flooded her pulsing anus with his hot semen, she would have screamed in ecstasy had her mouth not been buried in her mother's throbbing vulva.
When it was over, and they had pulled a little apart to rest and let the sweat on their bodies dry and cool, Lil continued to kiss her mother's thighs and to weakly pet the beautifully proportioned legs. Her father's arms were around her and he was cupping her breasts.
"Isn't this lovely?" Lil asked them. "Let's just stay in here all day."
You don't need to sleep in your room anymore," her mother replied. "You can stay with us on the nights when you're home. I'm glad we did this. I don't give a damn whether it's right or not. Aren't you glad, John?"
"Yes," he said. "We can share her. This is better than switch parties."
"But we mustn't neglect Nils," Lil reminded them. "I like the way he fucks. Don't you, Momma?"
"Yes," Delia said. She laughed. "We have to give your father a little rest once in awhile anyway. Come on, Lil, play sixty-nine again with me while he gets another hard on."
"All right," Lil agreed. "And then I want him to fuck me in the ass again. You have a lovely, big cock, Daddy."
CHAPTER SEVEN
The golden days of summer had drifted by and were gone, passed into the limbo of lost time. Mark Devlin and Lilith Nordstrom were walking home from school through a prismatically painted swirl of elm leaves, blown by the first crisp winds of fall. They were arguing.
"I don't like it, Lil," he was saying. "I don't like it at all. You trapped me into this thing in the first place and then you more than half-convinced me that there was some justification for what we were doing. We were making life miserable for the adults, stinkers like Fletcher and Donovan. Well, that was okay, in a way, but what about what you're doing now? You're not hurting the grownups as much new as you are the kids themselves. Besides, you're endangering all of us who work for you. How long do you think it's going to be before we get caught peddling pot and LSD around the school?"
Lil gave him the kind of smile that a doting mother bestows on a beloved but not very bright child. Wearing an expensive beige and green outfit, her cheeks flushed from the cold and her long, blond hair shining in the penumbral light of late afternoon, she was so beautiful, the quality of her loveliness seemingly so rare and pure that it was difficult for Mark to accept the evidence of his own experience with her, to know her for the vicious, sex-crazy, masochistic, predatory bitch she really was.
"You're a worrier," she told him lightly. "Relax. Like I've said, we have protection."
Mark frowned. "Yes, I know. Those pictures I took of Donovan with Pat and Linda. I'll admit you've kept Donovan in line with them. You even got the King Street house away from him and made him continue to stand all the expense of it while you use it for a whorehouse. But all of that bothers me too. Hootch isn't the kind to let anyone get away with anything ... especially a bunch of kids. Someday he's going to land on us like a ton of rock."
"Not as long as we have the pictures."
"Maybe not. But how about this dope thing? I'll admit that marijuana and the psychedelics aren't so bad. The reason I brought this up, though, is that Sissy told me you were talking about bringing in heroin. It isn't true, is it, Lil? You wouldn't really get the kids started on the heavy stuff, would you?"
Her blue eyes laughed at him. "Boy! You are a stupe, aren't you? All summer long I've been trying to tell you and show you what I am and you still don't believe it. Look, just get it through your cement-filled skull that there isn't a fucking, goddamned thing I won't do for money. I don't give a shit if it's kids, grown-ups or who. I'm out for all I can get, and to do all I can get away with, and I don't care a fat turd who gets hurt. Can't you understand that? You think I intend to stay in this nothing town the rest of my life? Hell no! I've just had my fifteenth birthday. Next year I'll be sixteen and that's when I split out of this dump. I'm going east, where the big money is, but I'm not going broke. I'm going first class, believe me.
"You're an asshole, Mark Devlin. When I brought you into this thing with me, you were just another jerky kid who'd never even had a girl and who had to ask Mommy or Daddy every time you wanted a quarter for a soda. Now you've got about five-hundred dollars in that coffee can you keep hidden in your photo lab and you've got the prettiest, hottest girls in town to fuck anytime you feel like it. Why don't you wake up, stupid?"
"I suppose you're right," Mark muttered but the scowl on his face had deepened and his dark eyes were pools of doubt and misery.
"Oh, cheer up," Lil chided him. "Sissy isn't working tonight. Why, don't you take her to a show? You two can go up to my room afterward and fuck up a storm."
"I don't like to go to your house when you aren't there," Mark said, flushing.
"Why?" Lil grinned with sudden intuition. "I'll bet it's because of Mom, isn't it? Has she been trying to seduce you?"
Mark nodded. "Last time I waited for you up there, she came into the room with only a housecoat on. I couldn't get away from her and ... well, she sat down beside me and started kissing me and then she opened my fly and began playing with my cock, and...."
"And so you screwed her. Good for you. She's got a gorgeous body, hasn't she?"
"But it's embarrassing," Mark protested. "She's an older woman and she's your mother."
Lil laughed. "So what? Mom likes to screw as well as I do and, I hate to admit it, she's even better at it than I am. Now don't tell my you didn't like it?"
"Yes," the boy said, but his blush became even more acute. "But I felt awfully funny about it.
You keep making me do it with other girls, even encourage me to make love to your mother, and you know it's you I love, Lil. Please, let's get out of this. Let's run away together, Lil. We've got plenty of money. We can buy phony I.D. cards and I can get a job."
Lil stopped and turned toward him. For only a moment, something flashed in her eyes that might have been tenderness, or even longing, an ineffable sadness for the loss of all that might have been and now could never be. Then it was gone and the hardness was back, the bitter, reckless derision with which she looked out upon a world she considered as foul and puterescent as herself.
"Forget it," she told him harshly. "Armond has a date arranged for me for tonight. It's with Wharton, the one who owns the drugstore. You can use the room or not. That's up to you. I don't sleep up there anymore anyway. See you tomorrow, Mark." She left him then, turning down her own street.
"Dumb kid!" she muttered. "What a life that would be. Mrs. Lilith Devlin, with three or four little Devlins' to diaper and wipe their snotty noses. That'll be the day."
Mark's pessimism bothered her not in the least. She felt very smug, very sure of herself. She had nearly three-thousand dollars in the bank at Cypress, a town only twenty miles away, but just across the state line. She had opened the account by mail, with her father's help. She had made her parents aware of the business she was in and now had their cooper ation. They had been full of doubts and fears at first, but as time went on and they saw how well she had things organized, how apparently fool-proof her plan was, they had become her enthusiastic supporters and co-conspirators. She had even arranged several, very financially rewarding assignations for her mother, who confessed that before meeting John Nordstrom, she had engaged in a little amateur prostitution herself. She had briefly been secretary and mistress to a contractor at Valpariso, Indiana. When he had dropped her to avoid trouble with his wife, she had worked for six months as a call girl in Chicago. While engaged at this trade, Delia had lived with another girl in the same business and had enjoyed a homosexual relationship with her.
"John was as innocent as a baby when I first met him," Delia had confided to her daughter. "I told him I was a social service worker for the state and the poor dear believed me. Imagine! When we moved here and settled down, I nearly went out of my mind with boredom for the first six years. Then I met Susan Prine. She told me that she and her husband belonged to a switch party group. I got John into it by arranging to have him alone frequently with Susan. When he weakened at last, I walked in on them. They were screwing on the living room couch. After that, he could hardly refuse me the right to do the same thing and, eventually, he got so he liked going to wife swapping parties with me. So you see, Lilith, you come by your sexiness naturally. If bi-sexual tendencies can be inherited, you must have gotten those from me, too."
One result of the strange, incestuous relationship Lil had developed with her parents was that, for the first time in her life, she felt for them an affection that was the closest approximation of love of which she was capable.
Lil entered her house in her customary way, through the back door, pausing to wave at Nils Rundy, who was pruning the hedge at the side of the house.
"My, you look domestic," she said to her mother. Delia was ironing a shirt.
"I haven't gotten much done today," her mother told her. "Nils came in right after your father left for work. I wasn't even up yet. We stayed in the bedroom until noon. When he left I was worn to a frazzle, so I napped until about an hour ago."
"Oh, well," Lil said blithely, "sounds like you had fun anyway. I've got to take a shower and change. Bert Wharton is on the schedule for tonight. I'm going to lie down for awhile before I go out. Want to come in and visit with me for a bit?"
"You know I do, Lil," Delia said warmly. They both knew what Lil meant by "visit." Will you have time to do it with your Dad, too, when he comes home? He thinks you've been neglecting him lately."
"Oh, sure. Gosh, Mom, you know how busy I've been. And tomorrow's Saturday so I have to go to Cypress and pick up two kilos of pot. I'm going to give that guy I'm buying from plenty of hell, too. The last batch was all sugar bush and so coarse you could hardly roll it. The kids are bitching like the devil about it. Come in as soon as I'm through with my shower. A little loving from you and Daddy will turn me on just right for old, pot-bellied Wharton tonight."
She had showered and was stretched naked on the bed when her mother came into the room, undressing hurriedly. In a moment, the two of them were pressed tightly together, kissing and petting furiously. Then they turned end for end and began sucking each other. Both women were capable of seemingly unlimited, multiple orgasms without tiring. When her father arrived, she invited him to play sixty-nine with her and fuck her while her mother was fixing dinner.
"I wish I didn't have a date tonight," she told him. "Dinner isn't ready yet. Let's smoke a joint together, Daddy."
"I wish you didn't either," he said, bending to kiss one of her pink nipples. Then he got up and rolled marijuana in a double cigarette paper. They were companionably sharing the acrid, pungent narcotic when Delia came in to announce that dinner was on the table. Still naked, they ate with Lil sitting between them. She ate with one hand and toyed with her father's prick with the other.
"Are you really going to bring in heroin?"
Delia asked her.
Lil nodded. "I'm going to see about it tomorrow when I go the Cypress, but I'm just going to act as a drop for it for Chief Donovan at first. He says he's got his own pushers all lined up so I'll let him take the risk, at least until I see how it goes."
"Where will the kids get the money to buy it?" John asked her.
Lil shrugged. "I guess the girls will mostly whore for it and I suppose the boys will steal, probably from their parents. I don't give a shit where they get it. Well, time to go. Mustn't keep the cash customers waiting. Oh, if Pat calls, tell her I want her and Dora Harmon here in the morning before I leave. I've got dates for both of them for tomorrow night. Oh' yes, and Sissy Prine is scheduled to spend Sunday at Marvel Lake. Three guys from out of town have a cabin up there for the weekend. She'll get gang-banged, of course, which she won't mind and, anyway, they're paying fifty bucks apiece for her, so I don't give a damn whether she minds or not. See you."
Lil arrived at the King Street house ahead of Bert Wharton. She had already changed to a shorty nightgown and bunny slippers when he came furtively to the back door and timidly knocked.
"Come on in," she invited him, holding the door wide and conscious of the fact that the dim light behind her gave her the appearance of being entirely nude, but for the filmy aura of the blue gown. He was a little man, and pudgy, his considerable paunch overhanging his belt. He wore glasses and affected a small moustache. He religiously dyed both the moustache and his eyebrows on the assumption that this made him look younger.
The soda fountain in his drug store was a favorite hangout for the younger set. There wasn't a school girl in the town who was not aware of his reputation as an ogler of legs and bosoms. They delighted in exposing themselves as they sat on the stools at his counter, giggling among themselves in high glee at the way he covertly stared at them, his slack lips practically drooling with desire and his eyes glittering with forbidden lust. He had never once dared to make an improper suggestion to one of them, and when Armond Fletcher had hinted that, for a price, it would be possible to attain his lifelong ambition, he had jumped at the opportunity. Ordinarily a frugal, even a cheap, man, he had quickly agreed to a fee of one hundred dollars for the use of the body of Lilith Nordstrom, whom he considered, by far, the prettiest girl in town.
Lil smiled winningly at the little man, who stood with twitching facial muscles and nervously fluttering hands. She was thinking to herself with amused scorn that he was as bad as a ninth-grader on his first date. "Come on, baby," she said soothingly, "let's get the business part of this all taken care of before we start on the fun and games routine." She held her hand out, palm up and waited.
"Oh, yes, yes of course," Wharton stuttered hastily as he withdrew his wallet from his hip pocket. His hand was shaking as he handed Lil a hundred-dollar bill.
"Thank you," she murmured sweetly. "Now you may kiss me, Daddy-o." She had to bend a little to meet his lips that were soft and spongy with lack of muscle tone.
Ugh, she thought, I hope his cock is harder than that.
"I've seen you in the store a lot" Wharton told her when they were seated on the couch.
Lil laughed. "I know you have. You've been trying to look up my dress and down my blouse since I was ten. Well, now you won't have so much trouble. See?" She undid the ribbon that tied her shorty nightgown at the throat and slipped it off over her head. "There you are. Is it as good as you imagined?"
"Oh, my goodness, yes!" Wharton exclaimed. "You're beautiful, Lilith! May I touch you. I mean your breasts."
"That's what you paid for," Lil told him. "Be my guest." She lay down on the couch, her knees pointing at him and her thighs spread so that her vulva was winking at him.
He made a whining noise deep in his throat like an anxious puppy as he leaned over her, his mouth going to one of her breasts.
"Take it easy," Lil told him, "I don't want you having a heart attack on me. Why, don't you get out of those clothes? It would be cozier if we were both naked."
He nodded, too overcome to speak. She helped him disrobe, regarding his white, puffy, muscleless body with distaste. Even his penis, she saw, was hardly bigger than a young boy's and, as excited as he obviously was, it still wasn't hard. "What's the matter?" she asked him. "You have trouble getting it up?"
He reddened. "Sometimes. In the store, when I'm behind the counter and there are young girls there, it's always hard as can be. When I go home and try to do it to my wife, it goes soft. I don't understand it. I hope you can help me."
"Having seen your wife, I don't wonder. Of course I can help you. Now don't even think about it. Just lie back and let me get you started."
Wharton did as he was bid, leaning back against the couch while Lil turned around, putting her head in his lap and taking his limber prick into her mouth.
"I ... I didn't suppose you'd want to do anything like that," he said, his tone one of amazement.
"Love it," Lil muttered, sucking him rhythmically and smoothly. She kept it up for ten minutes before she admitted that it was hopeless. Well, damned if she was going to give his money back. She'd think of something. "Hey," she said, sitting up as inspiration struck her.
"When you're in the store, looking at girl's legs, have you ever thought that you'd like to kiss their pussies?"
"No," he replied. "It never occurred to me. I guess people do do that though, don't they?"
"Well what in hell do you think of?"
Wharton looked embarrassed. "I think about hurting them," he said, his voice so low she could hardly hear it. I think about hitting them with my fist, or even burning them with a cigarette, and then ripping their clothes off and making love to them."
"Well, for Christ's sake, why didn't you say so?" Lil demanded in exasperation. "Okay, get your belt from your pants and work me over. You can hit me on the butt." She flopped around so that the hemispheres of her lovely, white ass were exposed.
"You really don't mind? I'll be careful not to hit you too hard."
"Shit!" Lil cursed. "Lay it on. If you don't hit me hard enough to make my ass bleed, you're a sissy." She heard the whistle of the belt through the air and felt the sudden pain as it flashed down against her tender flesh. Again and again he flayed her. She could hear his heavy breathing and a guttural sound he made, like a savage dog growling over a bone. She was glad her mother had told her about flagellation, and how some men could only be aroused by expressing their sadism. Getting whipped wasn't so bad, she thought. Damn him, he'd better be able to fuck her when he got through. The pain was making her so hot she couldn't lie still.
"Harder!" she groaned at him. "Harder, damn it!"
He hit her three more times and she felt the hot sting of her own blood oozing from raw flesh, then Wharton gave vent to an inarticulate cry and flung himself upon her. His prick, now hard as an iron bar, poked at her, so she reached behind her and guided it into her asshole. While he was fucking her, she found her clitoris and masturbated herself vigorously, coming in an almost continuous series of powerful orgasms. He came before long, his semen warming her anus and slopping out to sting the places where his belt had broken her skin.
"Oh, my God, but that was good!" he muttered, rolling off of her and slumping, exhausted, on the couch. "Thank you. Thank you very much, Lilith. I hope I didn't hurt you."
She laughed. "Of course, you hurt me. It wouldn't have been any fun if you hadn't. Think you can do it again after awhile?"
"I don't know," he told her weakly. "I doubt if you can take anymore whipping tonight."
"How about if you beat me with your fists?" she persisted. "That would be okay if you were careful not to hit me in the face or on my titties."
He nodded. "Maybe later. I've always wanted to do this to a girl, but I never had the chance before. I use to daydream about taking a young girl out in the woods someplace, tying her to a tree and burning her with a blowtorch, then pulling her fingernails and toenails out with pliers and finally fucking her while she was still alive and screaming."
"Then you'd kill her?"
"Yes. I could see myself choking her to death with my hands and then fucking her again after she was dead. I'd never really do anything like that, of course, but I'd get so hot thinking about it that I could jack myself off. Can I come here to see you again, Lil? I've got money saved that Myra, my wife, doesn't know about. I can get away from her once a week. That's on lodge meeting nights."
"Sure," Lil replied readily. "Glad to have you for a steady customer. You understand, though, this isn't just like regular fucking. I have to have more money. At least a hundred and fifty. And anything I want from your store," she added hastily. She patted her sore fanny and winced. "I'll probably clean out your stock of salves and ointments."
"All right," he agreed quickly. "Will you suck my cock again? That felt good, even if it doesn't give me a hard."
Lil knelt on the floor between his thighs and took his prick in her mouth. She glanced toward the kitchen and grinned to see Mark standing there, camera in hand. She was sucking contentedly on Wharton's penis when she heard the faint click of the shutter.
At first he wasn't quite sure what was happening. The sensation of her young impassioned tongue on the sensitive head of his engorged cock was driving him into an almost unconscious frenzy. But, seconds later, he realized what the click meant, and he knew he was trapped.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"I wonder if you realize all that you have accomplished," Delia Nordstrom said to her daughter. They were companionably drinking coffee in the kitchen of their home. It was a Saturday, a non-school day. John Nordstrom had gone with friends on a hunting trip and the two women had the house to themselves. "It's a miracle that a fifteen-year-old girl could work herself into a position where she practically dominates and controls all the vice in town and even has many of the so-called 'better citizens' eating out of her hand."
"Thank you, dear," Lil replied, "but, really, Mother, I've only started. Take Wharton, for instance. He pays me a hundred and fifty a week now and I haven't even shown him the pictures. I'll have the old fool's drug store before I'm through with him."
Delia nodded. "I don't doubt it. The way you're going, you'll own the town in another year. But do you know that there is another person as powerful as you in his own way, perhaps even more dangerous than Hootch Donovan?"
Lil frowned. "Who?"
"The Reverend Canfield. Now don't laugh. He had the largest congregation in town and the man wields a tremendous influence, especially among the women, the churchy, do-gooder types that you can never hope to reach. Did you know that, for the past two Sundays, he has been preaching scare sermons about the sudden increase in the use of dope among high school children? Furthermore, he has made some broad hints concerning other kinds of vice. He's already got the P.T.A. and the Ladies Aid types pretty well worked up into a lather of civic self-righteousness. All he has to do is to suspect who is in back of all this, point his finger at you and there'll be such a mob of indignant old bitches clamoring for your scalp that even Donovan won't be able to protect you. Just remember that it is public opinion that makes public officials tick."
"You really think it's that bad?" Lil asked earnestly.
"Have I ever given you anything but good advice?" Delia countered.
"No," Lil admitted. She giggled. "Every ambitious, young girl should have a beautiful mother who also happens to be an ex-whore. Okay, I'll have to do something about Mr. Canfield."
"Just be careful," her mother counseled.
Lil knew how to be careful. The fact was that her apparently phenomenal success was due, not so much to luck, as to a brilliant mind, well equipped with the safeguards and dampers of cunning and shrewdness. Like any predatory animal, she had a built-in instinct for traps and pitfalls. But she also knew how to be audacious. After giving the problem of Mr. Canfield, the minister, thoughtful consideration, she decided upon a frontal attack.
The town supported two theaters. One was a drive-in that only opened during the summer months. The other was the Rialto, a downtown movie house. Lil was aware that Canfield. by means of his not inconsiderable influence and authority, had bullied the theater owner into giving him a private showing of all movies that might, even remotely, be considered questionable as to moral standards. Those he turned thumbs down on were not shown, not even with an "adults only" label. Lil thought she saw a way in which she could turn Canfield's one-man censorship program to her advantage. She was counting on her personal, and occasionally intimate, relationship with Jake Jakowsky to further her campaign. Jake was the projectionist at the Rialto.
She contacted him that same day and made him a proposition.
"I don't know, Lil," Jake said, shaking his head. I'd like to help you out, but if the boss ever gets wise...."
"Don't worry. He won't. All you have to do is let me into the Rialto on Monday morning while Canfield is previewing 'The Surfers'. Look, if worst comes to worst, I can always claim I jimmied the stage door and sneaked in that way. But it won't. Believe me, Jake, I know what I'm doing. Do this for me and you get your pick of my girls ... for free. Which one would you like?"
Jake licked his thick lips and rubbed his bald head, his eyes greedy. "I'll like a crack at that little Dora Harmon. Okay, Lil, you be at the side door at nine Monday."
Lil was there on time. She had to cut her early classes to make it, but that didn't worry her. She attended school only when it suited her purpose anyway, counting on Armond Fletcher to turn aside the complaints of her teachers.
Jake let her in and took her to the projection booth where he was preparing the film and cameras for the private showing. During the half-hour wati for Canfield, she allowed Jake to pet her, and she played with his cock while they swapped tongues. He cursed and groaned in frustration when their love play was interrupted by an authoritative and impatient rap on the side door.
"I'll wait here until he's seated and the show is started," Lil told Jake. "Go ahead now and let him in. Sorry about your aching nuts, Jakey honey. Save your hard on for Dora Harmon."
Still grumbling, he went down the stairs while Lil watched from the small window in the booth. She saw Jake admit the tall, austere figure of the minister and conduct him to a seat in the center of the theater. They talked for a minute and then Jake disappeared under the balcony in the direction of the stairs. "Okay," he grumbled as he re-entered the booth, "we'll get this show on the road and you can do your stuff. I hope to hell you don't louse both of us up with this screwball stunt you're going to pull."
The theater lights blinked out and the screen lit with a dim, then gradually brightening, picture of rolling, green seas, white-crested with surf that plunged endlessly onto a long, curving stretch of beach. Just as the title appeared, superimposed on the ocean scene, a surfer came into view, a tiny, distant figure with red trunks, brightly colored board and blond hair above a bronzed body. As the credits appeared one after the other, the surfer drew closer and closer, growing in size until he dominated the screen. As the preliminaries ended and the story began to unfold, the camera panned suddenly away from the surfer to where a girl stood on the beach. She was a glorious creature, young, vibrant and nearly naked in the wisp of a bikini that clung like two brightly colored threads to rounded hips and proudly jutting breasts.
Lil grinned. "Your boss can forget about showing this one," she said to Jake. "After Canfield sits there and drools at that chick for an hour and a half, he'll go back to the church committee and report the film as much too salacious to be seen by the pure-hearted bitches and knightly old lechers who are our beloved townspeople, and certainly not fit for viewing by our pot-smoking, fornicating youth. Well, let's see if I can't take his mind off his work."
Lil winked at the worried, nervous Jake and slipped out of the booth. She went silently down the carpeted stairs to the main floor and down the aisle to where Canfield sat, staring intently at the screen. He was unaware of her presence until she took the seat beside him and spoke.
"Mind if I join you, Reverend?" she asked politely.
He jumped as if he'd been goosed. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "What is the meaning of this, young lady?"
Lil gave him her most bewitching smile. "I thought you might be lonesome. Looks like a swinging picture, doesn't it?"
Canfield had white, wavy hair, of which he was rather inordinately proud, and a sternly handsome face. But, at the moment, Lil thought he looked rather stupid the way his mouth was hanging open and is eyes bulging with amazement and rising anger.
"How did you get in here? You're the young Nordstrom girl, aren't you?" He glared at her as though her name was a damning indictment in itself. "You leave this theater instantly or I'll be required to report you to the authorities."
"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Lil told him mildly. "I don't think you're being very friendly. You could holler for Jake Jakowsky, of course, but it would be pretty embarrassing for you if I hollered louder than you did and swore you had been trying to rape me. Suppose he came charging down here and found me like this and you struggling with me. What would the poor man think?" To further establish her point, Lil, with one quick motion, ripped her blouse down the front, exposing her brassiereless breasts. With another quick movement of her hand she disheveled her care fully combed hair. "See what I mean? Now, do you want to see which of us can scream the loudest?" She opened her mouth and corded her neck muscles as though about to emit a piercing shriek.
"No, no!" Canfield cried, panic in his eyes as he clamped a hand over her mouth. "Don't scream," he begged her. "Let's talk this over. What is it you want, anyway? This is terrible! You won't scream, will you?"
Lil shook her head and he removed his hand from her mouth. "I just want to see the movie and to sit here all cozy and nice with you like this. You sure are handsome, Reverend Canfield." She snuggled close to him, clasping his right arm at the bicep with both of her hands and hugging it close to her. "Now that you've decided to be reasonable, can't we be good friends?"
"Well, all right," he said through thinly pressed lips, "you may stay if you wish but please have the decency to cover your bosom. It seems that the rumors I've'been hearing about you are true, after all. Have you no moral scruples at all? I suppose you realize that I consider it my Christian duty to report this outrageous conduct to your parents."
"Why don't you do that?" Lil suggested. "Mom will be alone this afternoon and I'm sure she'd enjoy your company. Daddy's gone hunting and Mom gets terribly lonely in that big house all by herself, although she does have quite a few men friends who drop, by, especially when Daddy's working or out of town. I can't make my blouse stay together. It's all torn. I didn't know ministers were so impetuous that way." She giggled. "Besides I thought maybe you'd like my breasts. Don't you think I have pretty titties, Reverend?"
Canfield responded with grim silence.
"Here," Lil said, taking one of his hands in hers and lifting it toward her chest. "Feel of them. Aren't they soft and tender? Now don't get huffy. I can still scream, you know."
Canfield, unable to think of a way out of the trap in which he found himself, suffered his hand to be held against her ripe, full breasts. They sat that way awhile and then, to his dismay, he saw that Lil had used her free hand to hike her skirt above her hips and bunch it around her waist. She wore no underwear. "I like my pussy petted too," she whispered. "You have a free hand so get it busy."
He sat stunned as she took his unresisting hand and placed it in her crotch, forcing his fingers into her moist vulva. "There now, isn't that nice? Why don't you ever make love to a girl when you were a kid? Ummm. I like this."
Lil put one hand on the front of his trousers. "Hey, what do you know?" she exclaimed. "You're getting hard. Say, you aren't such a square after all." She began to unzip his fly.
"Lil," he murmured, "you mustn't ... you shouldn't ... I'm . ... "
"Hush," she shushed at him gently, "don't spoil everything now." She took his sizeable prick out of his pants and stroked it lovingly. "Do you think I'm as beautiful as that girl on the screen?"
Canfield nodded. He wasn't looking at the screen, his eyes were on Lil's artfully sculptured thighs gleaming whitely in the dark, and on the breasts, so soft and yielding, yet sweetly firm, under his hand. She tilted her face. With a sob of anguished resignation, he met her red lips with his own, his long, graceful fingers probing deeply into the heat of her vagina.
When Canfield's prick had turned slick and wet in her hand from pre-orgasmic discharge, Lil whispered with fierce urgency that she wanted to sit on his lap. He helped her with remarkably strong hands and arms, practically lifting her from her seat and depositing her astraddle his thighs. With a moan of pleasure, she felt his long cock slide up into her cunt. She began to rotate her hips, her body swaying and her breasts bouncing in a dance of eager lust.
"Fuck me! Oh, fuck me, darling!" Lil cried. She leaned forward and pushed her breasts into his face. "Suck my tits too," she encouraged him, squealing with delight as he took a nipple between his lips and laved it with his tongue. She had not expected her affair with him to prove quite so sexually exciting or satisfying. She had entered into the daring game of seducing him with calculated and cold-blooded pur pose. Now she found that she was inflamed with desire for him, that she loved his kisses and his ardently petting hands. She wanted him to come inside of her, anxious to give him pleasure. Later, she would use his desire for her body to influence him to soft pedal his anti-vice campaign, eventually damping it out entirely, but at the moment, all she knew or cared about was that she was being most delightfully and beautifully fucked by a man who excited her as much as any man she had known.
She came with sudden violence. It was a jerky, convulsive sensation, as though the powerful forces of passion were tearing through her body like trapped lightning bolts in their efforts to be free. She screamed when she felt him respond by shooting up into her, his fingernails clawing at the cheeks of her ass.
When it was over, all but for quivering, residual spasms, she remained where she was, reluctant to lift herself from his still-hard prick. She kissed him gently, her lips tender, loving and grateful on his.
"That was wonderful!" she murmured. "For a preacher, you're marvelous."
"I never should have been a minister in the first place," he told her, hugging her and fondling her body with his hands. "I'm only a man of God from the waist up. BeloW the belt I'm a lover of beautiful women. And you're the most beautiful I've ever seen, even if you are only a child."
"Have you seduced a lot of the women in your congregation?" Lil asked, curious.
"No, although God knows I've been sorely tempted. I preach against sin while standing there in the pulpit, mentally disrobing all the pretty ones in the church, driving myself mad with secret thoughts about their breasts and their legs. Even my wife doesn't know how sex-conscious I am. She'd be horrified."
"Doesn't she like to screw?"
"No. She's frigid. I have to masturbate to relieve myself."
"Well, you won't have to anymore. You have me now. I'll do it with you whenever you want."
He kissed her warmly. "I'm so glad this happened, Lil darling. Glad you forced me to wake up and face what I really am. You've no idea what relief it is to have someone like you to talk to, someone with whom I can be honest. Is it true, as I've heard, that you run a teenaged whorehouse?"
"Sure. I'll introduce you to my girls and let you take your pick if you want, but I'd rather keep you all to myself. I love doing it with you. Hey, what's your first name anyway?"
"Stanley," he said.
"Okay, Stan. Wait 'til I get you in a bed where we can take all our clothes off and I can show you some of my specialties. I'll bet you've never sucked a girl's pussy."
"No, but that has always been one of my secret ambitions. Will you want to teach me that?"
"You bet. And I'll suck your cock too, or anything else you want. I think your prick's getting stiff again. Let's do it some more now."
"Yes, I want to, Lil. I hope Jakowsky can't see us."
Lil laughed her tinkling, good-natured laugh. "Of course he can but don't let it bother you. He was in on this from the start and he'll never say a word about it. He's one of my best customers. I've got enough on Jake to keep him quiet no matter what we do."
"You engage in blackmail, too?"
"Yep. Not you, though. And you were right about the pot and the LSD too. I'm making a fortune off of it. Just don't get the town's old biddies stirred up against me and we can have a lot of fun together. I've got a house on King Street and you can come there whenever you can get away from old Petrified Pussy."
Stan Canfield laughed. "Good name for her. Shall we do it in the aisle this time? This isn't very comfortable in the seat."
"Sure. It's a pretty lousy picture anyway."
CHAPTER NINE
It was the first week of Christmas vacation. A foot of snow blanketed the mid-western states. On this day, however, the sun was shin ing, although the temperature was only a little above zero, but with the heater turned on, it was warmly comfortable in Mark Devlin's car. The youth drove carefully, mindful of the icy slipperiness of the highway that had been cleared by the snow plow during the night.
"Do we make the pick-up at the same place as last time?" he asked Lil, who was the car's only other occupant.
"No," she told him. "This time it's at the Riverside Apartments, Room Seven. We park in the alley and go in through the back entrance. I'm anxious to get back with the stuff and turn it over to Hootch."
Mark's lips compressed tightly and his profile grew rigid. "I suppose," he said, his voice tense with suppressed anger, "that you've got a date with that preacher again. You spend most of your spare time with him lately."
Lil grinned, her eyes as cruel as a cat's. "Jealous, aren't you? Sometimes I doubt if you'll ever grow up. Stan is dreamy. Did I tell you that he's in love with me? As soon as I'm of age, he wants to divorce his wife and marry me."
"And I suppose you've agreed to it. You're out of your mind. An old, gray-haired geezer like him!"
"Don't be so juvenile. Of course, I won't marry him. But it doesn't do any harm to let him think I will. He's even talking about quiting the church and going into the rackets with me. I'll tell you one thing, with his looks, his education and his brains, he'd make one of the greatest con men who ever lived. And don't let his white hair fool you, dear. Stan is a tiger in bed. He fucked me four times last night and I lost track of the times he sucked my cunt."
"Big deal!" Mark snorted. "I still say he's too old for you."
"I don't see why you think so," Lil responded, smiling with wicked triumph. "My mother is a lot older than you are, but she tells me you're becoming a frequent visitor at our house."
Mark blushed. "That's different," he muttered.
Lil laughed. Teasing Mark was fun, but it was a game she soon tired of. She leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. Mark, glancing at the half-smile on her lovely face, assumed she was daydreaming of the Reverend Canfield, but he was wrong. Lil's sharp, little calculator of a mind was doing mental arithmetic. Her bank balance was now in excess of ten thousand dollars, most of it representing the pure profit she enjoyed from blackmail. She had begun to make heavy demands on Bert Wharton and a few others. Her entrance into that field had taught her some surprising things about human nature. She had expected her victims to hate her but had found that all of them, with the exceptions of Hootch Donovan and Armond Fletcher, reacted in a manner completely contrary to anything she had anticipated. Once they had tasted the for bidden fruit of sexual relationship with girl children, they became so besotted with lust that they lived in a constant anguish of fear, not that Lil would eventually impoverish them by her increasing demands for money, but that she would deny them their nights of mad passion with herself, or with her girls. They seemed eager to give her any amount of money she asked. She sometimes thought that they actually liked paying off to her. Even the normally penurious Bert Wharton had made no objection to adding a thousand dollars to her bank account, as long as she continued to allow him to beat her frequently with his belt or fists.
The dope business had flourished too, although the margin of profit in marijuana, and the other psychedelics, was small. Heroin, though was big business. She looked forward to considerable profit. She would, she had decided, let Donovan handle it during the difficult, introductory phase, while addicts were being created. Later, after he had done most of the hard work, and had taken most of the risk, she would step in and take over. Visualizing the rage that would show in his cold, green eyes when this happened, but secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't dare oppose her, she smiled happily. She no longer had sex with him, but he was a frequent visitor at the King Street house, usually asking for both of the Barstow twins.
When Lil opened her eyes they were in downtown Cypress and Mark was turning the car onto a side street that would take them to the alley at the rear of the Riverside Apartments.
"You wait outside," Lil told him. "This is the big one and I was instructed to show up alone."
"You be careful," he said, frowning.
"Worrier," she replied, making a face at him as she opened the door of the car and got out. Ankle-high, fur-lined overshoes making a crunching sound on the crisp surface of the snow, she walked with confidence to the back door of the apartment house, opened it and went down the dim, musty hallway to Room Seven. She rapped lightly on the paneled door with gloved knuckles and it was opened immediately.
"Hi, Stew," Lil said casually, giving him a casual smile as she entered the room. As the door closed she saw that the one she had called "Stew", a wispy, furtive, little man, was not alone in the room.
"This here's Mr. Maroni," Stew said quickly and nervously. "He brung the stuff for you, Lil."
Lil regarded the stranger with frank curiousity. He was. she judged, possibly thirty. He was a man of average size, with black hair, dark eyes and thin features set in a swarthy face of saturnine mold. Having the feminine eye for clothes, she noted with approval that he was sharply dressed in an expensively tailored suit. There was an undefinable something about Maroni that instantly fascinated and also frightened her. It was as though he stood in the center of an invisible aura of excitement and danger. He was like a hard, bright, steel blade, steel, yet somehow living steel, ready to leap out with slashing swiftness and eager cruelty at the slightest provocation.
Lil gave him a cool smile that belied both her interest and her tingling feeling of trepidation. She nodded at Maroni, then turned to Stew. "You checked it out?" she asked him. "If I get burned with a bum batch of H, you know what happens to you."
"Sure, sure, Lil," the little man replied hastily. His eyes shifted nervously toward the silent Maroni. "You know I wouldn't let you get a bad deal. You don't have to worry none. Why, Maroni himself brung it and he's from-"
"Shut up." The command was spoken quietly, but with a force that made it crack like a whiplash in the room. "You've got a big mouth," Maroni said, his voice still low but loaded with contempt. "Get out."
"Yes, sir. Yes siree, Mr. Maroni," Stew stuttered as he fumbled for the knob of the door and almost fell over his own feet in his haste to withdraw from the room.
Lil laughed. "What have you done to Stew?" she asked Maroni. "You seem to bring out the rabbit in him."
Apparently a man without humor, Joe Maroni ignored her question and comment. He reached behind him to take a black leather briefcase from a table, opened it and extracted a small, square package. He tossed the briefcase back to the table and stood there, weighing the brown paper-wrapped package in one hand while he eyed Lil with cold speculation. "You got the dough?"
"Sure," she replied evenly. "I didn't make the trip over here because I like snow." She opened her purse and took out four flat bundles of bills, each neatly bound with paper tape that carried the name of her bank and the amount in dark print. "Three thousand. That's a lot of bread for a damned small quantity of H."
"It's uncut," Maroni said, handing her the package and taking the bills.
Lil shrugged. "Okay. Well, I better be on my way." She turned toward the door.
"Sit down," Maroni said. It was as it had been when he had told Stew to shut up. The two words were spoken quietly, yet with such command that they stopped Lil as though she had run into an invisible wall. She turned about to face him, her cheeks beginning to flush with anger. It had been a long time since she had taken orders from anyone and she resented his calm assurance that she would do exactly as she was told. Still, in spite of her growing fury, she found herself crossing the floor to the couch and sitting down.
"We've been checking on you," Joe Maroni told her in his flat, hard, unequivocal tone. "You got some pretty good things going in your town. Not bad for a kid. Not bad at all. But you haven't got the experience to handle a thing like Heroin. You're not even getting all you could out of those marks you're working and making a bunch of punk kids whore for you is peanuts. We're coming in there to show you how to set it up right and give you the protection you need in the rackets. That's what I'm here for. You got a place there I can stay?"
"Well, of all the goddamned...!" Lil stood up, her eyes electric with rage, her face pale. "Who the hell do you think you are, anyway? That's my town and my business you're talking about taking over. I don't need your protection. You step a foot into my town, you bastard, and you'll be in jail so fast you won't know what happened. Don't try to...."
She didn't finish the sentence. Joe Maroni, moving with incredible speed, and yet with apparently little effort, brought his right hand around in a swinging blow that caught her on the side of the head and knocked her to the floor. She lay there, half-stunned, her mouth open and her eyes wide with surprise.
"You want to argue it some more, just get up on your feet," he told her coldly. He took her purse from the couch where she had been sitting, opened it and withdrew the package of dope. "Get smart-assed with me," he said, "and you go back without this ... or the money. And don't try to sic that punk police chief on me either. That boy-fucking queer knows better than to cross me."
Lilith Nordstrom was a realist above all else. She knew that she was no match for Joe Maroni in a fight. His apparently intimate knowledge of Chief Donovan's faults and foibles indicated that Maroni was probably not bluffing. Although he hadn't said as much, it was suddenly clear to her that he was here in Cypress as a representative of the Syndicate. She had a healthy respect for the Mafia, although all she knew about it was from things her mother had told her and from what reading she had done on the subject. If he was from the Syndicate, and if the organization was determined to take over her small operation, she knew that she was whipped before she even started to fight. She was, however, a firm believer in the old adage that "If you can beat 'em ... join 'em." Damned if she was going to be ousted entirely. She still had one weapon ... her best one.
She looked up at Joe and smiled. "You sure are strong," she said admiringly. "I guess we might as well discuss it. Help me up?" She held a hand up to him.
"You aren't hurt that bad," Joe replied unfeelingly. Ignoring her hand he went to sit on the edge of the table where his briefcase reposed. He took a flat, silver cigarette case from an inside pocket, selected a cigarette and lit it with a silver lighter.
With a sigh of defeat, Lil got up from the floor. In that moment she was able to forsee exactly what kind of a relationship she was going to have with Joe Maroni and the future was startlingly clear to her. Dismally clear. She sat back on the couch, opening her coat and crossing her legs.
"All right," she said. "So you're from the Syndicate. What kind of a deal do I get out of it?"
"That's better." He blew a puff of cigarette smoke. "You get a break. I handle everything, but especially the dope and the blackmail. You get forty percent of the gross. With me running it, we'll expand, take in the whole county. Forty percent of fifty grand a year is a hell of a lot better than one hundred percent of ten grand. Another thing. Suppose one of those kid chippies of yours gets out of line and threatens to squeal, what could you do about it? With the organization taking care of items like that, you've got no problem. The kid disappears."
"You'd kill her?"
"No. She goes bye bye with a shot of H in her mainline, gets shipped to Mexico and sold for two grand. Neat, huh? Any other questions?"
"No, I guess not."
"Okay then, take off your clothese.""
"My what?"
"Your clothes. When I take over in a town I like having a chick to screw. You aren't bad looking and I go for young ones anyway. You might as well learn right now who your new sugar daddy is. Go on, get 'em off."
"All right," Lil replied meekly. In Maroni's presence, she felt suddenly as helpless as though she had been caught up in a whirlwind. It was a new experience for Lil. She was not sure that she liked it, but still, as she shrugged out of her coat and reached behind her to unzip her dress, she felt a tingle of excitement.
"You've got a good boy," Joe Moroni said. "Get on the couch on your hands and knees.
"Aren't you going to undress too?"
"No. I'll just take my coat and pants off." He doffed his suit coat and trousers and pulled one leg of his elastic, jockey shorts aside to reveal the longest cock Lil had ever seen.
"My God!" she exclaimed, "my cunt isn't deep enough to take all that!"
Joe shrugged. "That's okay, I'll put it in your asshole. It doesn't make any difference to me." He knelt behind her and with no preliminaries, spread her ass with cruel fingers and began to thrust himself into her.
As the lengthy weapon bored deeper and deeper, Lil though that it surely would probe right up through her intestines into her stomach. She knew pain greater than any ever inflicted upon her by Hootch Donovan, or even by Bert Wharton. She wanted to scream, but was ashamed to let him know that he was hurting her. It somehow seemed vitally important to her to maintain her reputation with him as the tough kid who ran a whole town.
Joe fucked her in the ass with methodical and ruthless brutality, drawing his long prick out until its head was barely gripped by her sphincter muscle and then ramming it back in again, jolting the cheeks of her buttocks with his hard body. It took many minutes for him to achieve an orgasm. He only grunted once while he was shooting her full of his sperm and his expressionless face changed not at all during that time. At last he pulled out of her and let her collapse on the couch, her eyes stinging with tears of pain. He tidily wiped his prick on the hem of her dress and began to pull on his trousers.
"Don't bother to get up," he told her when she stirred weakly. "I want you to meet a guy who works for me. Hey Guns," he hollered, "come on out."
A bedroom door opened and a gorilla shambled into the room. At least he looked like an overgrown ape to Lil as she stared up at him with dazed eyes. He was over six feet tall and weighed more than two hundred pounds. A ridiculously small head sat on the neckless, gross, misshappen body. His nonexistent forehead and sloping jaw gave him the look of a moron. So did his dull, piggy eyes and vacuous grin. He was in his shirt sleeves and his massive chest was crossed by a leather strap that held a holstered automatic under his left armpit. He clutched a bottle of beer in one huge hand.
"This is Guns Heimer, an associate of mine," Joe Maroni said. "Guns, meet Lil. Cute kid, isn't she? You want to take a crack at her, Guns?"
"Sure," Guns said, grinning foolishly.
"Say, what the hell is this?" Lil demanded.
"Shut up," Joe told her. "I always share my chicks with my friends. Go ahead and fuck her, Guns, and then let's split the hell out of here."
Guns put his bottle of beer on an end table and unzipped his fly. He took out a prick that was bigger around than Joe's but not nearly as long. "You're awful pretty," he told Lil as he pawed her over onto her back, much as a bear turns a log in search of grubs or beatles. He knelt between her legs and mounted her.
"There's a kid waiting for me out in the parking lot," Lil said to Maroni. "He's going to wonder what's keeping me."
"I'll send Stew out to tell him to go home," Joe told her. "You'll ride back with us."
Resigning herself to her fate, Lil turned her attention to Guns Heimer as he pushed his big prick into her. To her surprise, he was amazingly gentle and unbelievably expert. He rotated his hips rhythmically, keeping his frontal bone on her vulva so that it agitated her clitoris.
The big age is good! Lil said to herself. I could even enjoy this. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and gave him her cooperation. She didn't mind the weight of his body crushing hers, or when he kissed her. She ran her tongue into his mouth and hugged him tighter.
"Fuck it into me, big boy," she encouraged him. "This is groovy."
"I like screwing you," Heimer panted. "You're the prettiest girl I ever did get. I got a colored girl on the Loop that don't screw no better than you. You like doing it with me?"
"Love it. Don't stop. I think I'm going to come pretty soon."
"I'll wait for you," he grunted and continued to fuck her with a measured, metronomic cadence.
"Come on, get it over with so we can get out of here," Maroni growled from where he sat in a chair on the other side of the room, smoking and regarding them critically.
They ignored him, enjoying each other too much to be hurried by him.
When Heimer put his big hand on her breast and began twiddling her nipple, it was too much for Lil. She began to come, lifting her hips violently against his, getting another half inch of his prick in her. She suck his tongue into her mouth and clawed at his back, drumming at his thighs with her heels.
"I gotta do it, too, baby," he grunted, emptying himself into her in pulsing spurts of hot semen that went on and on for such a remarkably long time that she was overflowing, her swollen cunt unable to contain both his big prick and his prodigious quantity of jism. It made a sticky pool below them on the couch.
"Thanks, Miss Lil," Guns Heimer said as he got up from her. "That was real nice."
"I thought so too," Lil agreed as she gathered up her clothes and headed for the bathroom. "Be with you guys in a minute."
On the ride home, Guns Heimer went to sleep in the back seat. He snored gently.
Lil sat quietly beside Joe Maroni. She wasn't sure what her feelings were concerning the gangster, who had so abruptly taken over her life. She had every reason to hate him, and sex with him was not only painful, but highly unsatisfactory as well, still he fascinated her and she felt drawn to him in a way that was outside of any experience with any other man. Perhaps, she though, it was his impersonal cruelty, his arrogant self-assurance that intrigued her. She impulsively put her hand on his lap below the steering wheel. His long cock lay flaccid beneath the material of his trousers. Experimentally, she stroked it.
"You got ants in your pants again?" he asked her.
"I could suck it while you drive," she suggested. "The way it's snowing now, no one can see inside the car.
"I don't want to be bothered," he retorted coldly. "I'm thinking. I'll let you know when I want you. Get in the back seat and suck Heimer's."
The son of a bitch! she thought, but nevertheless, she was sharply disappointed. She climbed over the back of the front, seat and began to unbuckle the sleeping man's trousers. He awoke and grinned at her sleepily.
CHAPTER TEN
After the advent of Joe Maroni, the entire pattern of Lil's life was drastically altered. He ordered her to quit school, leave her parent's home and move into the house on King Street with him. Guns Heimer occupied a couch in the living room, the second bedroom being reserved for the use of herself and her girls when they entertained men for money, or set them up for blackmail. The two men shared her body, although Joe seemed to seldom require her services. She spent most of her free nights in bed with Guns Heiner, who adored her. She was forbidden to continue her affair with Stanley Canfield unless she made him pay, a thing that she stubbornly refused to do. On rare occasions, Joe would allow her to visit with her mother and father, but he made no objection to her homosexual liaisons with the girls who had worked for her.
Lil put up a desperate but losing battle against her own nature. She was falling in love with Joe Maroni and still she hated him, hating herself even more for her weakness.
He gave her little satisfaction, either in bed or out. He was cold and impersonal with her, frequently beating her for the slightest infraction of the rules he imposed. He screwed all of her own girls and often brought strange ones to the house to deliberately fuck them in her presence. Yet, as the days of winter went by, Lil fell even more hopelessly in love with him.
As bad as he was, he had his own code of ethics. He was meticulously honest about the money, keeping accounts as faithfully as a bookkeeper and turning Lil's forty percent over to her with punctilious regularity. Her bank balance grew with amazing rapidity. When he sent Guns out to intimidate small business owners throughout the county, and establish a protection racket, Lil also participated in this additional revenue.
One day in early spring, Joe received a long distance call. When he had replaced the receiver in the cradle, after a conversation of mostly monosyllabic grunts, he turned to Lil. "Call your old lady and ask her if she'd like to go to Youngstown for the weekend," he directed her. "There's this John there, old fart with plenty of money, who wants a woman. He doesn't like kids, or I'd send you. Tell her there's five bills in it for her."
"Sure, honey," Lil said, eager to please. She called her mother, half afraid that Delia would refuse and put Joe in a bad humor. But Lil's mother was pleased with the offer and accepted readily.
"This'll be the first chance I've had to get out of this stupid town for years," she said excitedly into the phone.
"How about Daddy?" Lil asked anxiously. "He won't object?"
"To hell with him," Delia responded harshly. "I'm fed up with him too. Honey, this married life just isn't for me. Now that you're grown up and on your own, and doing so well, I'm tempted to split out on the whole lousy set-up."
"Whatever you think best, Momma," Lil replied doubtfully. It was the first indication that there was domestic trouble in the Nordstrom household.
Delia called Lil from Youngstown on the following Monday to tell her daughter that she wasn't coming home at all.
"This old guy is nuts about me," she confided, giggling happily. "No more small-town crap for little Delia. And he's got the dreamiest chauffeur. Come and visit with me when you get the chance. I'll share him with you."
That was to be the last communication Lil was ever to have with her mother.
A week later, her father left town with his best friend's wife, Susan Prine and he, too, dropped out of sight.
The loss of both of her parents was disturbing to Lil. Only after they were gone forever from her life did she realize to what extent she had depended on them. Their absence was as noticeable to her as a missing front tooth would have been. Despite the money she was making, more than she had ever dreamed would be possible, she was shaken by the fact that the familiar world of her girlhood was collapsing so rapidly around her. To escape the depressed mood into which she had fallen, she indulged her insatiable appetite for sex even more furiously than before, wearing the willing Guns down to the point where he begged for mercy, and spending every spare moment in wild orgies of passion with the Barstow twins, Sissy Prine and Dora Harmon. She made frequent trips into the psychedelic other-world of LSD and smoked marijuana continuously.
"You're getting so jumpy you bug me," Joe told her. "One thing I can't stand is a nervous whore. What you need is a shot of H."
Lil was afraid of the heavy drugs, but after Joe had beaten her nearly senseless, she tearfully submitted to the needle in her vein. She felt wonderful almost immediately, and although the reaction when the drug wore off was unpleasant, she willingly acquiesced to another fix, ready to risk being hooked to regain the marvelous feeling of euphoria. Within a month she had become a heroin addict and couldn't imagine how she had ever existed without it. With the typical user's compulsion to share her mixture of elation and misery, she soon saw to it that her girls also became addicts.
It was one of the rare evenings when Lil was not working as a prostitute. Joe was busy with his interminable bookkeeping and in one of his usually sullen moods. Guns Heimer was out of town.
"Christ's sakes! I'm about to go ape around this damned morgue!" Lil exploded. "How about letting me go to a movie? I haven't seen a movie in weeks."
"Okay," Joe grunted with unexpected liberality. "Get the hell out and don't come back until you've got your cool. You're making me nervous, too. Beat it."
Feeling as though she had been released from prison, Lil grabbed her coat and rushed out of the house before he could change his mind.
The picture at the Rialto was a documentary. She hated documentaries, but it was somewhere to go, something to be doing beside sitting around the house. The cartoon was on when she went in and the place was less than half-filled with customers, but by the time the main feature had flickered onto the screen, a steady stream of people were pouring down the aisles. A young woman asked Lil's pardon and squeezed by her to occupy the adjoining seat. In the dark, Lil received an impression of long, nylon-sheathed legs and a whiff of exotic perfume. Curious, she glanced sideways at a cameo-like profile under a dark, boufant hair-do.
Lil turned her attention to the picture. Ten minutes later she heard a soft whisper.
"Is it all right to smoke in here? I'm new in town and I don't know the local rules."
"Sure," Lil told her, "as long as we're here in the back seat rows. Here, have one of mine."
In the glow of her lighter that she held for the girl, Lil saw a pair of large, brown eyes, vividly red lips and a flawless complexion. "Stinky picture, isn't it?" Lil suggested.
The girl laughed lightly. "It sure is. I wouldn't have come only I couldn't stand being alone in my room. I was about to start climbing the walls. I'm Eva Gordon. I came from Cleveland to work here in the bank. Not a very exciting place, is it?"
"That depends," Lil told her. "If you want fun in this burg you have to sort of create your own night life." She was suddenly conscious of the fact that Eva's shapely knee was touching hers. She wondered if it were accidental. To test this possibility, she pushed a little against the other knee with her own and was instantly rewarded by a corresponding pressure. Eva glanced at her, gave her a slight smile and then demurely dropped her long eyelashes.
Could it be? Lil's heart thumped and she felt a tingle of excitement start at her crotch and travel up her spine. Well, only one way to find out for sure. She rearranged her coat on her lap so that one corner of it covered Eva's knee and hid the bold movement of Lil's hand as she reached down to touch, first nylon-covered flesh and then the cool, firm skin of the girl's lower thigh. Eva gave an involuntary start of surprise but kept her eyes on the screen. She made no attempt to pull her leg away. Lil caressed the satiny flesh for a moment then leaned over to put her mouth only an inch from Eva's ear.
"Let's split out of this crumby movie," she suggested. "I'll bet you and I could find something a lot more interesting to do than this. Like in your room, maybe."
"Yes!" Eva murmured, her voice vibrant with inner excitement.
"Are you a lesbian?" Lil asked her new friend as they walked, arm in arm, through the drizzle of a spring rain.
"I suppose so," Eva replied uncertainly. "I've only had one affair with a man. It was disgusting." she shuddered. "But I lived with another girl for nearly a year in Cleveland. We broke up and I guess I took it pretty hard, although I'm over that now. I'm so glad I found you. It's terrible to be lonely."
By the time they reached Eva's room, they were like old friends, with no need for pretense between them. They both knew what they both wanted and they lost no time stripping out of their clothes. At sight of Eva's revealed body, Lil's excitement soared. The girl was dazzlingly beautiful. She was as tall as Lil, but slightly heavier. Her rounded arms and legs were entrancingly shaped. Her breasts, while only average in size, were the most perfectly formed that Lil had ever seen. They thrust forward in luscious curves and were tipped by brown nipples on magenta rosettes.
"Gosh!" Lil exclaimed in hushed wonder. "You're so beautiful I'm almost afraid to touch you."
"Don't be," Eva pleaded. "That would be terrible. You're lovely yourself. Are you very young?"
"Eighteen," Lil lied. She took a step forward and put her arms around the other girl, drawing her close and touching her lips with hers. When she felt the tip of a pink tongue timidly touching her teeth, she opened her mouth and sucked greedily, her hands avidly exploring the velvety contours of rounded hips and artfully tapered thighs.
"Oh, this is wonderful!" Eva sighed when the long kiss ended. "Let's get on the bed."
"I could eat you like a dish of ice cream," Lil said later as she drew her ljps away from one of Eva's nipples, leaving the brown nubbin erect and hard."
Eva giggled. "Why don't we eat each other? I have a confession to make. I was sitting in the coffee shop when you went by on your way to the show. I followed you, and that was why I sat beside you and asked about smoking in the theater. If you hadn't made the first pass, I would have. I was simply dying to go to bed with you, Lil."
"I'm glad you did follow me. Okay, let's play sixty-nine. I can't wait to get my mouth on your pussy."
Eva turned around on the bed and each girl put her head between the other's thighs.
Lil knew the moment her lips touched Eva's vulva that this affair was going to be something special, something much more important in her life than any of the casual, sexual relationships she had had with other men and women. She parted the labial portals and immersed her face in the perfumed sweetness. She pushed her tongue into the roughly soft, purplish interior of the vagina, sucking avidly the drops of fluid that were being exuded. She found the clitoris and drew it into her mouth, massaging it with her tongue.
Eva was undeniably expert herself, her tongue dancing a clever ballet on Lil's clitoris. Lil's hands moved as compulsively as her hips, stroking the delicately fleshed and tenderly formed thighs, their scented coolness on her cheeks, like summer moonlight.
The bodies of both girls began a writhing saraband as their passion mounted. As they approached a mutual climax, they tossed about on the bed as though in torture, making noises that were incoherent and blubbering because their faces were buried in each other's cunts. Those slobbering sounds were like ethereal music to Lil, increasing her passion until, in a frenzy of lust, she came, with Eva's orgasm only a moment behind hers.
This is it! Lil thought wildly. My God, but this is better than anything else! It's what I've been looking for. Then all thought was wiped out, replaced by surge after surge of sensation that blazed through her like a torch, searing her nerves and scorching her soul.
After their lust had been satisfied, the two girls continued to suck and kiss each other's cunts, neither wanting to be the first to admit that their first session of love-making had ended.
"I love you!" Eva cried when Lil finally reversed her position and they lay with their arms around each other.
"I love you, too," Lil replied and knew in her heart that, for the first time in her life, she actually did love someone, whole heartedly and without reserve. The image of Joe Maroni was wiped from her mind in that instant as completely as though he had never been.
"Why don't we take a place together?" Eva asked. "It would be so wonderful to share a house with you, or an apartment."
Lil shook her head. "I can't, Eva. At least I can't right away. I've got myself into kind of a mess and I have to get that straightened out first. And, even if I manage to do that, we could never live here. There are reasons. But we could go to Mexico, maybe, or possibly Europe. I've got close to fifty thousand in the bank."
"You have? Oh, that would be lovely. All right, I'll wait until you're ready. Do you want to make love again, Lil?"
"Yes, you darling, I sure do, but let me just do it to you this time, then you can suck me off afterward. Okay?"
Lil placed Eva on the bed so that she could kneel on the floor in front of her. She began by nibbling at the sweet flesh of her inner thighs, her lips leaving a moist trail on the creamy skin. She bit playfully at the exposed cheeks of Eva's ass and tickled her asshole with the tip of a teasing tongue until Eva squealed with joy. At last she placed her mouth on the succulent vulva, still swollen and puffy from the recently experienced orgasm. She drew the clitoris and surrounding flesh between her lips, sucking hard as she titillated the organ of love.
"Make me come, Lil darling! Oh, my God! Make me come!"
Walking through the dark streets from Eva's room to her own house, Lil had a lot to think about. She had never supposed she might someday fall in love with another girl. But now it had happened. For the first time, her dreams of going east and becoming a big shot in the world of vice seemed puerile. She knew now what organized vice meant. It meant the Syndicate. She'd had enough of the Syndicate in the person of Joe Maroni. Quite suddenly, she was aware that the life she had been leading, while exciting and remunerative, was stupid, nevertheless. All she wanted now was to go someplace with Eva Gordon where there was peace and beauty, someplace where they could live with each other and enjoy long, torrid nights of passion such as they had just known. She would kick this lousy drug habit, she promised herself virtuously. But first she had to go home and get a fix. She'd reached the point where she couldn't think or plan properly unless she was high on the H.
She went in through the back door, disturbed to see that the light was still on in the living room and that Joe was waiting for her.
"Where the hell you been?" he demanded. "We got trouble. That lousy, goddamned, little bitch of a Sissy Prine has got herself knocked up."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"But I've kept my girls supplied with the pill," Lil protested. "I don't understand."
"Either the little shit hasn't been taking them, or they don't work on her." Joe glowered. "Anyway, I've got to do something about her. This was a jerky idea in the first place ... putting kids to work as whores."
"What are you going to do about Sissy? You won't ship her off and sell her in Mexico?"
"No. Shipping one at a time isn't good business. Not enough dough in it to make it worth the trouble. I ought to send them all off, but three kids can't disappear out of a small town without a big fuss. We don't want the FBI on our backs. There's a doctor in Cypress who'll fix her up. We'll run her over there tomorrow night. You help her figure out some kind of a story to tell her old man."
Lil shrugged. "That won't be necessary. Since his wife ran off with my father, he's drunk all the time. He doesn't pay much attention to her. I'm down, Joe. Can I have a shot?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Who were you out with?"
"A girl."
He sneered contemptuously. "You goddamned queers make me sick."
Lil flinched. Queer? He's right, she thought, but to hell with it. She remembered Eva Gordon's sweetness and her beauty and her heart lifted. So did her chin ... proudly. "I don't mind being a queer," she told Joe. "There are worse things."
He laughed harshly. "Like being a queer and a junky."
"I'm going to kick the habit."
"Oh, sure. They always are. You're fifteen years old and you're beginning to look like an old whore already. Well, that's your bag. You live in it. Here's the needle and the stuff."
"I'm going to go out and sit on the front porch for awhile," she said as she extracted the needle from her vein. "I'll be too turned on now to sleep." He didn't answer, so she put her coat back on and went into the dark, coolness of the night. She sat on the porch swing, feeling the drug wipe out her depression. Like all addicts, she believed that her thinking process went into high gear while she was under the influence of the drug, when, as a matter-of-fact, it went into almost complete abeyance, leaving only the illusion of accelerated, mental ability.
She had been there twenty minutes when the headlights of a car illuminated the street, reflecting back from the wet pavement. It stopped in front of the house and she saw that it was Mark Devlin's car. He got out and started around to the back door, but she called to him and he retraced his steps, coming onto the porch.
"What are you doing up this time of night?" she asked him.
"Morning, you mean," Mark corrected her. "I'm pulling out, Lil. I've had all of this I can take. I'm going to California. I've stood it as long as I could to protect my folks, but now I've had it. I came to ask you two questions.
One is, will you let me go? I mean will you destroy those photos that Bob Fletcher took? The other is, will you go with me? I still love you, Lil."
By an effort of will she controlled her mind, brought it into focus. "Don't worry about the pictures. I'm going to burn all of them. I'm about through here, too. I can't go with you, Mark. I'm sorry."
His face was very white in the dark. "All right," he said, his voice dull with resignation. "I didn't suppose you would. 'Bye, Lil. Can I kiss you?"
"Of course."
He bent over her and touched her lips briefly with his, then he turned quickly away and she watched him get into his car and drive off. She watched until his tail lights dwindled and disappeared down King Street, then she went into the house and to bed.
Piece by piece my life is dissolving, she thought as sleep closed in on her. But never mind. Tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow I'll kick the drug and start a new life with Eva.
Smiling, she went to sleep.
She was up early and out of the house while Joe still slept. She was walking toward the bank, intent on seeing Eva, if only across a marble counter, when a police car pulled to the curb beside her. "Get in," Hootch Donovan said. His fat sullen and his green eyes, cold. She hesitated a second and then made up her mind. He didn't know that she had burned all the blackmail pictures that-morning in the incinerator. Couldn't possibly know. He wouldn't dare hurt her. She got into the front seat beside him, matching his silence as he drove out of town on the Fairlane County Road, wondering where he was taking her and why.
He turned the car onto a side road and braked it to a halt before a small cabin. "Come on," he said. "We're gonna have a little talk. You didn't know this was my place, did you? You'd have probably taken it away from me if you did, like the house on King Street."
She followed him up onto the rickety porch and waited while he unlocked and opened the door. It was only a shack, but she saw that it was surprisingly neat and well furnished inside.
"What's this all about?" she asked as she selected a chair, arranged her skirt and her legs to suit her and looked up at him where he towered over her, his mouth grim and his eyes triumphant with hate.
"Stanley Canfield," he said. "That's who it's all about. He killed himself last night."
Canfield? Stanley Canfield? She had to think for a moment, make an effort to remember. Oh, Stan. She knew a flashing instant of regret. He had been a marvelous lover.
"That's tough," she said. "So what?"
Donovan grinned. "He left a note to his wife. It was on his desk. We found him on the floor with his brains blown out. The note wasn't important, but I went through his desk drawers and I found something that was, a letter he'd written to you and never mailed." He withdrew a folded sheet of paper from an inside pocket. "This is hot stuff," he said. "The poor son of a bitch must have been really nuts about you. He says in here how juicy your cunt is and how glad he is that you taught him to suck it. Lots more too, like what a bang he got out of fucking you in the ass and then having you suck his cock. But that ain't the best part. The best part is where he says that, when you start bringing heroin into the town, he hopes you'll let him help you, and that maybe he can get some of his congregation started on the habit to make more customers for you. You're a smart kid, Lil. What do you think? You think this letter is worth an even swap for those pictures you took of me and the Barstow kids?"
Lil was stunned. The drug was wearing off and she was able to think clearly. She saw that he had her. The bastard had turned the tables on her, but good. She also saw that there was going to be no easy way out of this. She had no pictures to trade for the letter and he'd never believe that she'd burned them. Never in the world. She'd have to try.
"I ... I burned the pictures this morning," she told him. "I burned all of them. I'm getting out of this, going away with someone I love." Even as she was talking, she knew that, in her desperation, she was saying too much, yet she couldn't stop.
Donovan laughed. "You ain't as smart as I thought you was. Not if you expect me to believe that kind of bullshit."
"It's true. You don't dare do anything to me. Joe Maroni would kill you."
Donovan scowled. His eyes flickered with fear and then it passed. "Don't count on it," he advised her. "That hood has about gone as far as he's going in this town already. I put up with him because he cut me in on the take, but things have changed. You should read the papers. There was an election last fall and we've got a new district attorney. He's untouchable, one of these pure-minded crusader types. He's been gathering evidence all winter and he's the kind who'll call in the FBI if he has to. There's gonna soon be the goddamndest shake-up around here this town ever saw, and Hootch Donovan ain't gonna get caught on the wrong side of it. I want them pictures. De we trade, or do I sweat 'em out of you?"
"Go ahead, you dirty bastard," Lil snarled at him. She was afraid now, but her anger was greater than her fear.
"I was kinda hoping you'd want it that way," he said, smiling almost amicably. He swung his fist in a short arc and it crashed into the side of her head, knocking her from the chair. She tried to fight, but against his greater weight and strength, she was helpless. He knelt over her on the floor, and the storm of blows drove her steadily toward unconsciousness.
Lil awoke to a gradually increasing awareness of pain and discomfort. When she was able to focus both her eyes and her mind, she discovered that she was naked and that she was on a bed. Her wrists and ankles were tied to the bedposts.
Donovan stood over her, gloating. "I hope you ain't ready to give me them pictures yet," he told her. "I got a few tricks I'd like to try on you. Who the hell says you can't mix business with pleasure? This ought to be fun?" He lifted a hand into her range of vision. In it he held a fireplace poker, the round, smooth metal handle of which dripped wetly. "Turpentine," he told her. "We used to do this to stray dogs when I was a kid. You ought to of seen 'em go klylying when this hit 'em. Let's see how you dig this. You always did like getting fucked in the ass." Grinning broadly, he placed the handle of the poker against the girl's crotch and shoved.
It went into Lil's asshole very smoothly and then the pain hit her. It was like the flame from a blowtorch. She screamed and she kept on screaming, the sound reverberating like the wail of a siren as Donovan continued to fuck the poker in and out of her. He stopped at last and sat there watching her, smiling happily.
"That's just a starter, baby," he promised her. "I ain't hardly begun on you yet. But while you're thinking about it, I guess I'll fuck you. Watching you squirm and yell makes me hot. No, I ain't gonna do it in your ass. You think I want blisters on my cock from that turpentine?" He unbelted and dropped his trousers, his big, uncircumcised prick arching up from the triangle of auburn hair at his crotch.
Lil's screaming had subsided to a continuous, tortured sobbing as he mounted her and slammed himself into her. She cried out again with new pain at the sudden brutality of the onslaught. His great, crushing weight bore down on her, but she welcomed the attack. At least it helped take her mind off of the fire still burning in her asshole.
"You dirty slut!" Donovan growled in her ear. "You no-good, rotten, goddamned, shitty bitch of a whore. You're gonna give me those pictures and that ain't all. You're gonna sing to the D.A. When I get through with you, you'll sing like a birdie and that'll be the end of your smart-asses punk of a boyfriend. You know what I'll do if you don't? When I get tired of having fun with you, I'll get old Nils Rundy out here and let him have you. He's wanted in three states now for raping and killing young girls. I let him stay here because I figured he'd come in handy some day. He'll get a kick out of killing you real slow and then hanging around to fuck your dead body."
So this is how it ends. I told Mark I wanted to die young, hut I don't ... , not anymore. I want 'to live ... to go to Mexico with Eva. Oh, Eva, darling! Momma! Daddy! Mark! Stan! I'm so sorry for what I did to everyone...!"
Donovan continued fucking her with calculated ferocity. He bent his head to bite her breast. She felt the skin break under his teeth, and when he looked at her again his lips were red with blood. "How do you like it, you bitch?" he asked her. Then he began to come. He hammered her slight body with his massive hips unmercifully, his prick going in and out of her like a piston and his semen flooding her cunt.
Panting from the exertion, he got off of her, his prick still hard and dripping. "Got another little surprise for you," he said as he fumbled in his pants pocket. "How'll you have the soles of your feet, medium, well-done or just crispy?"
At the sight of the fire, Lil started to scream again, her face contorted with terror. She strained wildly against the strips of rag with which her ankles were tied.
Donovan was bending over her feet when the bedroom door was flung open. He looked up, dropping the lighter and reaching for the holstered pistol he had hung on the post at the foot of the bed. Guns Heimer, bellowing like a bull ape, stood in the doorway, a .45 automatic in his hand.
"No!" Donovan yelled, and then the sound of his cry of mortal terror was drowned in the crashing roar of the automatic as slug after slug bore into his face and chest, slamming him to the floor. He lay huddled and motionless there as the echoes died in the room. As though it was the last part of him to relinquish life, his cock, still hard, began slowly to wilt, turning gracefully down to touch the floor on the edge of a widening pool of blood.
"He hurt you?" Guns asked, solicitiously, as he bent over Lil and began to untie the strips that bound her. "Joe sent me out looking for you."
"Not too bad," Lil told him. "I'll be okay. Good thing you killed him. He was planning to double-cross us with the new district attorney. What are we going to do about his body?"
Heimer's piggy eyes grew shrewd. "Seems like a good time for a fire. What's this stuff?" He touched an open can beside the bed.
"Turpentine."
"Yeah? That'll do. Come on."
"Just a minute." Lil had finished dressing. She knelt to take a folded sheet of paper from Donovan's inside pocket. It was blood soaked and had a hole through it. She dipped it into the can of turpentine and then laid it out on the bed. She picked up the can and splashed its contents on the fallen police chief, on the bed and on the floor. She found Donovan's lighter, ignited it and held the flame to the tail of his shirt. She jumped back as the fire caught and spread instantly from his body to a trailing blanket that hung from the side of the bed. "Let's go," she said to Guns, and she turned her back on the crackling flames.
They were nearly home when Lil started to laugh, leaning her head against the back of the car seat and chortling with near-hysterical mirth.
Guns looked at her doubtfully. "What's so funny?"
"I just remembered," Lil told him, still laughing, "that I forgot to ask him how he'd have himself ... medium, well-done, or just crispy?"
The sound of a fire siren was audible in the distance.
Joe Maroni took the news of Donovan's death and cremation with unexpected equanimity. "Just as well," he grunted. "If that new D.A. can't be reached, we may have to give him the same dose. Fix yourself up," he told Lil. "You look like hell. Then get word to Sissy to be here this evening. We've got to run her over to Cypress for that abortion. Christ sakes! You'd think I was running a goddamned kindergarten or a nursery around here. What the hell business has a twelve-year-old girl got getting knocked up, anyway?"
"They do it all the time," Lil assured him. Sissy seemed not the least frightened at the prospects of undergoing an operation to relieve her of her pregnancy. She sat between Lil and Joe on the way to Cypress, chattering excitedly and obviously happy to be the center of so much attention.
"The doc who's going to take care of you has got a thing about young girls," Joe said to her as they pulled into the outskirts of town. "I told him it would be okay to fuck you before he operates. That's why he agreed to do it."
"Gee, I don't mind," Sissy replied. "I'm used to it." She giggled. "Anyway, I don't have to worry. He sure as hell can't get me any more pregnant that I am now."
Joe parked the car behind a night club and Lil looked at him questioningly.
"The doc won't do it in his own office," he told her. "I made arrangements with the guy who runs this dump to use one of his upstairs rooms. Come on, Sissy."
"Good luck," Lil whispered and kissed the young girl before Sissy slid under the wheel to join Joe and follow him into the back entrance of the building.
They were gone a long time. Lil nervously smoked a package of cigarettes while she waited alone in the car. At last she saw Joe come out. He was striding with evident haste across the graveled parking lot, a long bundle in his arms. Lil had a premonition of disaster and dreaded to learn what the long bundle contained. When Joe went of the rear of the car, raised the trunk and deposited his burden there, she was sure.
"What happened?" she asked anxiously as he got into the front seat with her and started the car's engine. "What happened to Sissy?"
"The bungling bastard killed her," Joe snarled as he wheeled the car savagely out of the lot. "At least he said he did. Maybe the old son of a bitch fucked her to death. What's the difference? Anyway, we've got her body to get rid of. God damn the luck! You know a good place to ditch her?"
Lil crowded panic and regret out of her mind, concentrating instead on her knowledge of the countryside. "There's the old Adam's Farm," she told him. "It's just over the state line. I'll show you where to turn off. The place has been abandoned for years. It has a deep well. No one ever goes there. Even the kids are scared of it because the house is supposed to be haunted.
Joe grunted his approval. And so it was done. Sissy's body was weighted with a large stone fastened to her ankles by bailing wire and she was dropped down the shaft. Sitting in the car, hiding her face with her hands, Lil nevertheless heard the faint splash.
How many more? she thought. How many more of us before it's over? I didn't mean for this to heppen, Sissy. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I want to go home and get a fix. I need it. Tomorrow I'll start breaking the habit and then I'll go away with Eva. Tomorrow.
She was so certain she could do it-so certain that she could put an end to the nightmare that had become her life. She was young. There was so much ahead of her. She was strong. She was determined to do it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"We better lay off for awhile," Joe Maroni said. He lit a cigarette, puffed on it and exhaled the smoke with a violence that suited his mood. "Even a dumb, hick coroner isn't apt to miss four bullet holes in Donovan's body, unless that shack made a hell of a lot hotter fire than I think it did. And when somebody finally realizes that Sissy has disappeared, the shit will hit the fan in this town. So we stay holed up until things quiet down."
Joe, Guns and Lil were sitting in the living room of the King Street house. Guns, as usual, had a can of beer in his hand and a litter of empties on the floor around his feet. Joe was drinking sparingly and cautiously from a bottle of Scotch and Lil was puffing with quick, compulsive drags at a joint of marijuana.
"That means you, fruity," Joe said to Lil, his sneering lips and dark eyes contemptuous. "No more wandering around looking for strange cunt to suck. Get it?"
Lil shrugged and nodded sullenly. She had spent a wretched night and morning and now it was late afternoon of what had seemed the longest day in her life. Returning home after the tragic death of Sissy, and the disposal of her body, Lil had tried to sleep, only to awake screaming from a nightmare in which there had been a blanket-wrapped figure hurtling interminably downward through a rock-lined shaft toward a pool of black water. Then Joe, awakened by her screams of terror, had decided he wanted her and had further tortured her still painfully sore ass with his long cock. When he had had his fill of her. Guns Heimer had taken over. She could easily have dissuaded the gentle, considerate killer, but she felt that, after his rescue of her from Donovan, she didn't have the right to deny him. He had been in a particularly sexy mood, having consumed just enough beer to achieve a tumescent condition of perpetual erection and had fucked her continuously for the rest of the night.
It had been an ordeal that Lil dreaded the thought of repeating. Having mentally committed herself wholeheartedly to homosexuality, she now found intimate contact with men to be repugnant and couldn't understand how she had ever considered it enjoyable.
She had no intention of obeying Joe's order to remain in the house. She was splitting, she told herself. He couldn't watch her twenty-four hours a day. Even if she had to kill the son of a bitch while he slept, she was getting out. She'd get her money from the bank, pick up Eva and, together, they'd head for Mexico. But she had to be clever, to pretend to go along with his curtailment of her liberty.
"After what happened to me yesterday morning," she said, "you couldn't pay me to go out there. I'm scared, Joe. Why don't we go to Chicago, or Cleveland?"
He grunted disdainfully, indicating that such a question was not deserving of an answer. She felt, however, that there was a slacking of the tension in his attitude toward her, and she hoped, a dulling of suspicion. She determined that she would make the attempt that night. Better now, she thought, than after confinement in the house for several days had begun to work on even his steel nerves, making him restless, jumpy and, therefore, more alert.
A million years later it was night and she could yawn and pretend to be sleepy. "Christ's sake," she muttered, "I been smoking this damned pot all day and all it does is make me dopey. I'm going to crash." She stood up, weaving slightly on her feet and effecting a vacuous, dull stare to create the impression that she was much more under the influence of the narcotic than she realized. The two men were watching the sports broadcast on television and hardly glanced up as she wandered drunkenly from the room. Wide-eyed and alert, she lay on her bed, waiting and listening. It seemed hours before the mechanical voice of the TV was silenced and she heard Joe go into the spare bedroom. They had shared a bed at first, and then he had begun spending his nights away from her, usually with one of her girls, or one of the local women he had picked up in the town.
She prayed that tonight neither he nor Guns would want her body, but in this she was disappointed. Twenty minutes after Joe had gone to bed, her own door opened and she heard Heimer's whisper in the dark. "You awake, Lil?"
"Yes," she said. Might as well get it over with, she thought with a sigh of resignation.
She hoped at least that he wouldn't have a petrified prick again.
"I got hot nuts for you, honey," Guns told her as he lowered his massive bulk to the edge of her bed. She reached up for him and drew him down to her, finding his lips with hers and throwing the covers back so that her body would be available to his hands. She didn't want him, but she was anxious to get it over with as quickly as possible.
"You're the only chick I ever had that really liked me fucking her," he confided shyly. "All the rest I had to give 'em money. I guess that's 'cause I'm so ugly."
Lil experienced a twinge of guilt. "You're not ugly," she said softly. "You're the most beautiful man I've ever known." Funny, she thought, that it was actually the truth. What a crazy, mixed up world it was where a man who looked more ape than human, and who was a paid killer for the Syndicate, could be the most decent person in her life.
"Aw, gosh, Miss Lil!" he murmured and then he buried his face between her breasts. She put a nipple in his mouth and her hands in his hair, cradling him and letting him suck like a baby. When both of her breasts were swollen and taut from his eager kisses, he slid farther down, his mouth working on the smooth, white flesh of her stomach, leaving a wet trail of saliva that led to her hips and upper thighs.
Good grief! she said to herself. I believe he's going to suck my cunt. He's never done that before. But, of course! He's in love with me. He knows I like that and he's doing it just to please me. How sweet! I didn't know any man was ever like this, not even Mark or Stan. I'm sorry I'm not in love with him. I wish I could be. If it wasn't for Eva....
She spread her legs for him and felt his tongue fumbling with the lips of her vulva, searching for her clitoris. She knew, from the way he went about it, that it was a thing he'd never done before. She lay still, letting him lick it awkwardly, wondering at the sensation he was beginning to stir in her.
Sse'd been so sure that no man could ever arouse her again. And she'd been wrong. Guns Heimer's inexpert slobbering was causing her cunt to throb and sending unexpected thrills through her entire body. She began to move her hips and she put her hands on her breasts, using her fingers to tease and titillate the nipples already sensitized by his sucking kisses.
Apparently sensing from her tightened muscles and heavy breathing that he was exciting her, driving her toward the moment of climax, Guns increased the pressure of his tongue, his powerful hands caressing her lovely thighs and digging under her to clench and unclench spasmodically in the flesh of her buttocks.
Lil squirmed and writhed in an ecstasy of rapture while a part of her mind that remained detached continued to wonder at the unusual force of the feelings he was generating in her.
She was aware that an excess of sexual indulgence had jaded her, but Guns was carrying her back in time to the summer that had passed. It was like reliving her first affair with Armond Fletcher or Nils Rundy. It was even as good as when she had first gone to bed with her mother and father, or when she had first explored the delights of lesbian love with the Barstow twins. She was a young girl again. Had that been a thousand years ago? She was on her bed in her own room, masturbating herself and sucking her own breast. Soon she would come and then the phone would ring and her mother would call from downstairs that her high school principal wanted to speak to her. So strong was the fantasy that she thought all she had to do was open her eyes and look from her bedroom window to see the blue sky of summer above the gray, decaying shingles of Harmon's barn, or look down to see the drying semen on the window of Nils Rundy's trailer.
She was coming. Good God, how she was coming! She jerked her body convulsively, her crotch bobbing up and down, washing Heimer's face with her overflowing cunt. She became divided. Part of her was there on the bed, a body given over entirely to sensation, a thing of straining muscles, throbbing cunt and twitching asshole. Part was soaring as lightly and effortlessly as a thistle in a wind, riding a gust of passion that whirled her away, sundering the surly bondage with an earth where men contented with men for money and power.
Then it was over and she floated down, drifting lazily back to join the exhausted, drained, satiated body on the bed.
"You want I should fuck you now?" Guns asked her diffidently.
"Yes. Yes, of course, Guns honey. Fuck me now. I want you to come, too."
"I liked doing that," he admitted as he mounted her. "I never wanted to do that to nobody else before. You liked it?"
"I loved it," she corrected him. "Kiss me, Guns, and then fuck me."
His big prick slid into her, filling her cunt and giving her a sense of well-being and security. He fucked her carefully and slowly. Although she didn't experience another orgasm, she derived another kind of satisfaction from having his weight on her, his cock working piston-like in her. If she'd had a big brother, she undoubtedly would have seduced him and would have loved him in a way that was only partly sexual. That was how she felt under Gun's Heimer's bulk.
His orgasm was prolonged and powerful and when it was over, he kissed her repeatedly and tenderly, murmuring his gratitude for the affection she had shown him.
They were lying side by side, smoking, when Lil responded to a sudden impulse. "Guns," she said, "I've got to get away from here, away from Joe and from all of this." Then she held her breath. Had she blown it? Would he tell Joe?
"Yeah, I know," he replied in his slow way after a long moment of silence. "I. been thinking about that. This ain't no life for a good kid like you. It ain't gonna be easy to do, though. Joe don't hardly sleep. They got an airfield at Cypress. You get that far you could get a plane for New Orleans, or someplace. After that, you better get outta the country. Look, if I was to get up and turn on the TV again, Joe wouldn't think nothing of it He'd figure you couldn't get out of the house with me up. Then we could go out and get in the car without him knowing it. King Street ain't level. I can let 'er roll a couple of blocks before I start the engine. Wanta chance it?"
"But how about you?" Lil asked. "You'll be in terrible trouble with Joe, and with the Syndicate."
She felt his heavy shoulders move in a shrug. "Piss on 'em. I'm fed up too. Mexico or someplace don't sound too bad."
"You want to go with me? I didn't tell you, Guns. I've got a girl friend."
"Yeah," he said, "I know. I wouldn't mind about her. You don't have to do nothing with me no more if you don't want. I'd just like to go along and take care of you."
She leaned across his body to kiss him. "You're the sweetest guy who ever lived," she told him earnestly. "I'll be glad to have you with us and I won't let you go without some loving. I'm not so queer I can't enjoy it with you, Guns. I guess I even love you, as much as I can love any man."
"Gosh!" he whispered, his voice strained with wonder. "Gosh! You ready? Let's go."
"I've got money in the bank at Cypress," she told him. "We can't get it out until morning."
"We won't have time," he told her. "It don't make no difference. I got plenty of dough in New Orleans. I stuck it away there in case I needed it someday. We get to Mexico, you can send for your money."
"All right," she said. "Let's go then."
They dressed and went out to the living room where Guns turned on the TV. They sat and watched it for awhile, staring unseeingly at a late-late movie as they waited to be sure it had registered on Joe's consciousness that Guns was up. At last he nodded to her and they went quietly from the house into the cool, star-hung night. The car didn't roll as easily as Guns had hoped, so he pushed while Lil steered. When they were several blocks from the house he slid under the wheel and started the engine.
"I'll only be a minute," Lil told him when he parked the car in front of Eva Gordon's hotel.
"Okay," he agreed, "but don't fool around. We don't want no shoot-out with Joe on Main Street."
Lil ran up the steps. She located Eva's room and raised her hand to knock, then she saw that there was light under the door. She tried the knob and the door swung open. What she saw was enough to make her feel that the world had been pulled out from under her. She was dizzy and sick, floundering on the edge of a vast nothingness.
Naked, Eva's beautiful body was stretched on the bed. Kneeling between her spread-eagled legs was another girl, a redhead. She stared up in surprise at Lil, the lower half of her face wet and smeary. She was Linda Barstow.
"Lil!" Eva cried. Her eyes looked like they were about to fly out of her head on long stems. "Lil! You didn't come back. I thought you...."
Lil didn't say anything. She just closed the door and ran back down the stairs. Whitefaced, her eyes blank with shock, she opened the door of the car and got in. "Go on," she said, her voice remote and emotionless. "She isn't coming."
Guns nodded, his face mirroring sympathy, but he didn't answer her. He just put the car in gear, eased the clutch and started down the main street. A mile out of town, they came to the intersection with the highway, and once on the way to Cypress, he depressed the throttle, letting the big car leap forward into the night with a muted roar of power.
The minutes fled by with Guns hunched intently over the wheel and Lil huddled in the far corner of the front seat, her mind still unable to grasp the full significance of what had happened, that there wasn't going to be any Eva for her, now or ever. She was still struggling to adjust to the idea when they swung around the last turn before the state line. Guns cursed, stamped on the brake and twisted the wheel in an attempt to control the weaving motion of the car as the brakes gripped unevenly, sloughing them first to the right and then more sharply to the left. Directly in front of them was another car. It was parked crossway of the road. Illuminated in the headlights of their own car, Joe Marconi stood in the highway, a gun in his hand.
How did he do it? Lil thought wildly. How did he get here ahead of us? Then, she knew. He'd been aware all along of their plans, had probably listened at her bedroom door and had slipped out of the house, stolen a car and had come here to waylay them. It was just like the sneaky son of a bitch, she thought bitterly. He liked doing that to people, playing with them as a cat with a mouse.
There was a dirt road that led off through the woods and Guns saw it. He jammed his foot down again on the throttle and they shot onto it.
"No! No! No, Guns!" Lil yelled, suddenly more terrorized by a realization of where they were than by the apparition of Joe back on the highway, gun in hand. "No, Guns! This is where we put Sissy. Oh, God! Don't take me there!"
He couldn't have turned back if he'd wanted to. The rutted, long-disused road, was too narrow. Headlights in their rearview mirror told them that Joe was coming after them.
Guns cursed again. Debauching into the yard of the old Adam's Farm, he saw what Lil could have told him if she'd had time ... this was the end of the road.
"We can't get out," Lil gasped. "He's got us now."
"Better this way," Guns grunted, stopping the car beside the curbing of the well. "Now we won't have the bastard chasing us no more. Get behind the car and stay there. I'll take care of Marconi."
Lil tumbled out of the door and crouched with her hands on the metal fender just as Joe's car roared into the clearing and stopped. She tried not to think about the deep shaft behind her and what it contained.
Joe got out on the far side of his car and snapped a shot at Guns who stood, fully exposed, at the rear of the car.
Watching, Lil saw the big man's right shoulder jerk, and even before the gun flew out of his hand and he began to slump, she knew that he had been hit. Joe, a sneering grin on his face, came around the hood and took two paces toward them, then stopped. "This is where you get it, you damned stupid ape," he said flatly. He very deliberately brought the pistol he carried up toward eye level.
"No!" Lil cried. "No, Joe! Not Guns!" She didn't know why she was doing it, hardly knew what she was doing as she ran around the car and straight at Joe Marconi. She just knew she didn't want Guns to die, didn't want him killed as callously and cold-bloodedly as a hunter would dispatch a wounded deer. She ran straight at the pistol, keeping her body between it and Guns.
The last thing she heard was the report of the gun. She shuddered in death and lay still.
She appeared very young and defenseless there in the moonlight.
