"I found the dirt road with his ranch sign and headed west on it, back towards the Rio Grande. The ranch house was set amid a lot of feeding pens and corrals. It was one of those typical cheap rural homes with an unkempt yard and the butane tank sitting beside it. A couple of mongrel dogs came out barking at us and old Sam got his hair up but kept close to Buzz. A girl's voice called back the dogs, who for all their noise were wagging their tails. I rode up to the front porch and touched my straw Stetson to the girl standing there. She was about my age, blonde, her hair in a pony tail. She was wearing a checkered flannel shirt and jeans, her feet in a pair of awfully beat up moccasins ... She was cute and kind of bold looking.
"Rick Santos, ma'm," I said, and then told her about her daddy's troubles.
She thought the whole thing terribly funny and invited me to come in the house. I unsaddled and unpacked Buzz and Judy and turned them loose in a corral with a couple flakes of alfalfa Cindy provided. Sam got a can of dog food and he gobbled down with great satisfaction, since the ranch dogs just had to stare at him and drool. I dusted off the best I could and went into the house.
"You look like you just stepped out of a Marlboro ad," Cindy laughed as I clunked in with my spurs still on, "but you smell just like round-up time. Why don't you take a bath while I fix you something to eat?"
"Bath? I just had ... " I began, but trailed off realizing it had been some time ago.
"That's what we got indoor plumbing for," she said and hustled me off to a tight little bathroom full of hair curlers and little bottles. While I was taking a shower I heard the bathroom door open and close, and when I parted the curtain I found that my clothes were gone. I hollered for them through the door, but Cindy yelled back she had stuffed my stinking shirt and jeans into the washer and for me to wear a towel. This was getting embarrassing.
"I put away some scrambled eggs and ham sitting in the kitchen like some refugee from a Turkish bath. Cindy watched me eat with a kind of weird grin on her face. Finally she said: "You brown all over like that?"
"Anglos can sure be tactful. "Yeah, I'm half Mexican," I said, "and that means at least a quarter Indian."
"I like that," she said, now standing beside me, "I think it's neat to have a permanent tan." Her hand touched my shoulder and I felt her fingers run softly down my back. It sent goose pimples running out all over my skin, and I knew my face now really took on an Indian shade.
She felt me shiver and giggled. "Never been touched by a girl before, Rick?"
"Another dumb question. I had had my first piece of ass, a chola from Tucumcari, before this one knew the difference between a prick and a turnip. I had other worries.
"It's not that," I said, "but I can just see your daddy coming through that door with me like this and ... "
"Don't worry about that," she interrupted. "It'll take him the rest of the afternoon to fix that tire and get rid of the stock. Besides, you can hear that rig when it's empty a mile off on the ranch road. And I think you're neat!"
Her hand caressed my back and I felt her hot breath on the back of my neck as she leaned down and kissed it. Well, you lose the reins on a running bronc, then there ain't much you can do except ride with it. I felt a jerk under the towel as my cock adapted to the situation.
I turned around in the chair and brought her face down to mine, kissing her on her fragrant moist lips. A sweet tasting, teasing little tongue shot into my mouth, flicked around and withdrew. I held her and kissed her hard, not letting go until I felt her running out of breath.
"Wow!" she said when I released her and stood up. Her face flushed with pleasure when she looked at my body. The towel had a tent pole under it. "The flag is up!" she grinned, "Gentlemen, start your engines!"
I kissed her again, pressing her against my body. Her breasts were like hard loaves of bread against my chest and she thrust her hips against my cock. The towel fell down and she stared down at my cock.
"You really are brown all over," she said. I had her flannel shirt half unbuttoned, desire now really beginning to roar around inside me. Cindy twirled out of my grasp with a sly grin, then took me by the hand and led me to a bedroom. I prayed that I would not hear the rattle of a stock truck on the old ranch road.
"The bedroom, like the rest of the house, was plain and simple. That it was Cindy's was evident by all the bottles, hair dryers and things. There was a nude shot of Burt Reynolds next to a dresser mirror. I plopped down on the quilted bedspread and watched Cindy undress. She took off the shirt, her eyes on mine, then undid her bra. Out spilled a couple of lovely tits with rosy little nipples, all erect and perky. She kicked off her moccasins and peeled off her jeans together with her panties. She had a lovely, slim figure with a trim and tight ass. The centers of her breasts and her pubic area shone with triangles of untanned white.
"What do you use for a bathing suit, Kleenex?" I asked.
"I went riding in it once," she said, jumping onto the bed beside me, "and you should have seen the old foreman from the spread next to ours. When he saw me he craned his neck so much that he drove his pickup right through a pasture fence!"
She snuggled up to me cheerfully and in the embrace I forgot all about Hadley, Buzz, the hard miles I had covered and the San Juans I had to cross. She was warm and sensuous, wriggling her body as if trying to get into mine. My cock rubbed against her belly, already leaving a smeary track of lubricating juice. I ran my hands all over her, down her back, over the hard cheeks of that beautiful smooth ass of hers, between her thighs where I felt the rutting heat of her cunt.
"Your daddy know about this sort of thing?" I said.
She kissed me on the mouth. "He's not blind," she said, "but since mama died a couple of years he sort of took it for granted that I was taking on an adult role on the place, so he just keeps his opinions to himself. We get along just fine." Her hand ran up and down on my cock, fingering the swollen head. She propped it up so it pointed at the ceiling. "Just like an ear of Iowa corn," she smiled, "is that what they mean by Chicano Power?"
"Yeah, and it tastes like chili peppers with refried beans."
"Mmmm! I love hot foods!" she said and bent down to put it into her mouth. I watched the head go slowly into her parted lips, vanishing inside her mouth. Once inside, it bulged against her cheek, slowly moving towards the back of her jaws and into her throat. More and more of the brown hunk of meat vanished between those distended pink lips of hers until her nose touched my pubic hair. I felt the heat of her mouth along the whole shaft, the gentle twirling of the entire length of her tongue. Just as slowly her head began to rise, exposing inch after inch of my now glistening wet cock. She took out all but the very tip, and this she probed with the point of her tongue, sticking into the hole and letting the lube smear around on her pursed lips. Then she blew on it gently, but since it was wet it felt like a blizzard. Immediately she alternated this with hot licks of her tongue, simultaneously jacking me off with her hand. My cock jerked with pleasure every time she stroked it with her tongue, so she began to do it faster, flicking it around the base of the head and running it down the vein of the underside all the way down to my balls. These too she did not forget. They were drawn up tight up against my body, and she took each in turn into her mouth, caressing and rolling her tongue around it.
Watching her mouth my cock made me want to get somehow more involved, so I reached out for that lovely trim body of hers. She knew exactly what she wanted, for at my first touch she shifted herself so that her cunt was right over my face. I rolled her over onto her back, and still keeping her head pinned down with my cock I spread her legs and lowered my face onto her cunt. Spreading the outer lips with my fingers I found myself looking into the pink, flower-like petals of the clitoris hood and inner lips. It looked like an awfully little cunt, a virginal, underdeveloped teenybopper of a cunt. But when the tip of my tongue touched it, it reacted like a seasoned campaigner. At the first touch she gave a moan and a jerk which rammed my nose right into the hot, moist and fleshy interior. Slowly I ran my tongue up and down between the inner and outer lips, probing with it now and then at the entrance to her vagina. She responded with pleased jerks of her hips and a tightening of her mouth around my cock. I then got my arms and shoulders between her legs, spreading them apart and up towards her chest. This tipped up her ass, and I had the pink little pussy with its blonde whiskers exactly where I wanted it. I began to really ream her out now, drinking in the juice she was letting out of her. I twirled my tongue around the hood of the clitoris, poking with its tip for the clitoris itself and getting a muffled squeal out of Cindy every time I made contact with it. She loved it, her whole body began to twitch and her mouth gulped and sucked at me. I moved my hips, fucking into her face in rhythm to the flicks of my tongue over her cunt. When I felt her begin to jerk in spasms, I sucked in the inner lips, clitoris and all. Inside my mouth I made my tongue as compact and hard as possible and drove it between the lips against the clitoris, alternating this with powerful sucking, which in a few seconds caused her to gurgle on my cock and start coming into my face. Her thighs trembled and her now sloppy wet cunt plastered itself all over my face. In the heaves of her orgasm her hips jumped back and forth involuntarily, whipping her pussy over my nose, mouth and chin. She moaned and moaned as I sucked her viciously right through her entire orgasm. At last I felt her relax, then twitch a couple of times painfully, and I knew I had her finished for a while. Wiping my face on her thighs I looked down at her cock-filled face. It was flushed pink and spit and my juice was running out of the corners of her mouth down to her neck and ears. I could see her throat muscles work on milking my cock. I started to drive myself hard into her now, with long strokes that rammed my balls into her face. She sucked on gamely, and when she reached up and squeezed my balls, I felt the fire at the base of my cock surge forward and explode with a wave of jism inside her throat. She slurped and sucked faster, one hand squeezing my balls, the other poking a finger into my asshole. I pumped it all into her mouth, depositing a wad with every downstroke. She swallowed and coughed, and I saw some of it shoot out her nose.
At last she drained me. My arms were trembling in that push-up position from the wonderful sensation which I felt through my whole body. Slowly I eased my greasy cock out of her mouth and fell on my back. Cindy turned around, lay down on me and came at me with an open mouth full of semen. She sealed my lips with hers, her eyes glazed, and slowly probed my mouth with her tongue. I could taste the bitter, salty, sticky substance that I had filled her mouth with.
We lay there for some time resting, Cindy on my shoulder with a hand cupped around my balls. It had been so good. I wished that I could stay here in the bedroom, live on the ranch and have Cindy beside me like this. I could not bear the thought of once again saddling up and spending days and nights with a horse, dog and mule.
After a while Cindy's hand crept up my cock, her fingers lazily squeezing and toying with the limp and soft head. She began to talk, telling me about how she had been laid four years ago the first time, when she was just thirteen. How she had an affair with a hand on the ranch, how she got to liking sex so much that she could get hot just staring at a guy's jeans. It wasn't what you'd expect from a girl on a rural ranch, I guess, but maybe that was what really caused it. The isolation and all. I listened with only one ear, because I was concentrating on what her playful little fingers were doing. They were giving me a hard on again, that's what. When my cock became rigid in her hand she looked up as if surprised. With a sly smile she made it all wet with spit and then straddled me, manipulating it into her cunt. She tickled herself with it for a minute, and then had it right up against her hole. The top of it vanished in her blonde pussy hairs and I felt the tight ring of the entrance to her vagina on it like a Stetson that's a bit too small. But Cindy wiggled her ass, holding my cock in place, and suddenly the head slipped in, the warm glow of her insides making it inflate even more. She let go of it and let the weight of her body and gravity do the rest. I was surprised how easily it slid in, considering the small-looking apparatus she had down there. But down she came and in it went, until her ass touched my balls and my cock rested up against her cervix. She gave a pleased little sigh, undid the ribbon holding her pony tail and let her hair spill all over her face, her eyes smiling as she looked down on me.
"Let's do it as if we meant to make a kid," she said, "I just want to feel full of you inside me!"
I needed very little urging. The tight warmth encasing the length of my cock was enough. For a while she remained immobile on me, and then I felt a fantastic sensation. She was wiggling some kind of internal vaginal muscles. It felt like a gentle hand with the fingers milking my cock like a cow's udder. Jesus, I had never felt anything like it before. It made my back muscles tense and I shoved myself into her as far as I could go. Cindy began to rise up and down on me now, and I watched in fascination as my well greased glistening cock slid out then buried itself in that blonde snatch. I hardly had to do a thing. Cindy was delivering all the action. Her breasts bobbed as she increased her speed, and the rosettes around the nipples shriveled up while the nipples puckered up. I reached up and pinched them between my fingers, at the same time thrusting my hips up. Cindy leaned her head back, closed her eyes and smiled in pleasure. A little shiver ran through her body and I saw goose pimples on her arms. She picked a steady rhythm now, fucking me with a monotonous steady tempo which held me erect and eager but did not stimulate me to orgasm. She was clever, working herself up first so that I would not pop on her before she was ready. But when I let go of one breast and reached down between her legs, her whole body gave a jerk and she increased the speed of her bumps and grinds. My hand followed her body, my fingers stroking her clitoris, slowly but surely driving her up the walls. She began to breathe quickly, gasping now and again, her ass-now pounding up and down on my cock like a jackhammer. I fucked into her now with hard thrusts that sent her rocking like a rodeo rider on a bareback bronc. Finally she couldn't keep her balance and leaned on her arms for support, her boobs dangling and dancing spectacularly above me. I pounded cock into her amid the squishing and popping of her wet cunt and started coming amid whines and cries of painful pleasure. At the same time I felt the searing wad of orgasm ripping up from somewhere around my asshole and I socked it into her with all my strength, my semen shooting deep within her. Cindy now let out a scream of animal pleasure and ground herself down onto my spurting cock, her ass wiggling from side to side as if she wanted to get my whole body inside her. My cock gave a few more violent jerks inside her and then I was drained, the room almost getting dark around me. There was a lull during which the only thing audible were our gasping breaths. Cindy's stomach heaved as she fought to regain her breath and I could feel my own heart fluttering inside me. She gave a couple of violent shivers and then collapsed with a sigh on top of me. My cock got small very slowly and it was a while before it finally slipped out of her.
Carelessly we dozed off, and there would probably have been hell to pay if it hadn't been for old Sam. His barking woke me up and then I heard what got him riled. It was Cindy's daddy rattling down the road in the rig. You never saw a kid get his clothes out of the dryer and on him so fast. I barely had my shotguns buckled down when the screen door banged open and Sid Collins was standing there. Cindy gave him a nonchalant "Hi, Daddy!" and pretended to be busy at the sink. Old Sid gave her a squinty-eyed look and then glanced at me. Cindy had not tied up her hair, her shirt was out over her jeans, and it was plain she did not have her bra on. Sid shook his head and sighed, then handed me a newspaper.
"Boy, you better get saddled up. You made the Albuquerque papers," he said.
"He wasn't kidding, either. Right on page two. Horse thief, burglar. Armed. An old mug shot of me from some juvie files and a very long description of all my sins. Hadley outraged and offering reward. They even had figured out that I headed north.
"You done me a favor boy," Sid said with a glance at Cindy, "but before you do me any more around here I figure I'll pay you back. Get your stock together and we'll load 'em in the truck. I'll have you over the San Juans before dark."
Various and sundry reasons have been adduced, by critics and other observers of twentieth-century American culture, for the widespread disaffection of the upper-middle-class young of the United States. Parental abdication, the rise of the drug culture, the Vietnam War-all these "reasons" have had their day in the limelight only to be replaced by others, as anguished parents seek to explain the massive alienation of their children.
If the truth were known, of course, the finger would be pointed equally at these and several other major reasons for discontent, rather than at any single one of them. If the parent-child relationship is on a sound, functioning level, with ample display of mutual respect and with ample attention paid to the vital factor of mutual recognition irrespective of role, a single "generation gap" area of conflict will be insufficient to drive the offspring to a complete break with parental authority. It seems more likely that the cause is a massive breakdown of affection and understanding between the generations, or a personal-or, to borrow for a moment the special terminology of the late C. G. Jung, archetypal-level.
For the most part, it appears, the parents' understanding is clouded by ghosts from the past. The generation so avidly seeking to explain the loss of authority has based that authority on the laws relevant to an earlier time and not to the present.
This is not to suggest that those laws will not become relevant again to another time and place. History is demonstrably cyclic, as various commentators (notably Spengler and Toynbee) have forcefully and, to many readers, convincingly asserted. Nevertheless, the cyclic phase to which the laws of the parents' time refer has not yet returned to us; thus, the sound understanding they had of their own time will prove of limited aid at best in their attempt to understand their children, who after all will themselves grow old in a time ruled by other concerns. For an interesting-if overstated-statement of this point of view the reader is referred to Alvin Toffler's bestselling book-length conjecture Future Shock.
What the parents forget-and what their children ignore, equally to their peril-is that the parent's view itself represented a reaction against an earlier and equally "irrelevant" point of view.
Following the Great Depression-which was the older generation's Big Fact of Life, as the age of perpetual war is the Big Fact for their children-the earlier myth of the eternal visibility of Rugged Individualism was shattered for many people. For the first time many people understood that, in John Donne's words, "no man is an island, entire of itself." They saw all too clearly that their continued well-being was not so much a matter of individual effort or entrepreneurship but would perforce be dependent upon collective or corporate effort.
Thus the post-Depression years saw the rise of trade unionism, the end of child labor, and the enactment of compulsory education laws. There came, along with this, the realization that personal security, in times of strife, depended increasingly on the maintenance of a stable position in the hierarchy of a large-scale organization whose mandate was so broadly based as to allow for adequate sanctions against repression, in the form of massive strikes or other such concerted action. This included not only membership in the suddenly powerful labor unions but membership in bureaucratic Government organizations, membership whose maintenance was often as much a matter of "not rocking the boat" as anything.
The lesson was further confirmed by World War II, with its massive mobilization and its effect of organizing the totality of the citizenry into an all-out wartime economy, with few pigeonholes overlooked for the exact and comprehensive conversion of the people into file able numbers. The later period of intensive cross-filing of Government and other records only underlined this, reaching what some people thought the impassable nadir when, in the Sixties, the nation's Social Security and Internal Revenue files were fed into the same gigantic computer for cross-filing and cross-reference, the better to regulate the tax-paying habits of the citizens.
The period in which the real damage was done, however, was the Rooseveltian age of 1932-1942, and it had a permanent and scarringly deleterious effect on the mentality of Americans who survived, remembering bread lines, dust storms, and the days of thirty and even forty per cent unemployment.
The point is that before the Depression youth between the ages of, say, fourteen and twenty-four had more of a chance to come to grips with adult life by degrees. The individual was able to learn from the "hard knocks" of life. The measures of personal worth were to be found in one's self-image-in the attributes of craftsmanship or skills or individual entrepreneurship; in the open-frontier days of the Wild West this often had to do with prowess in the use of deadly weapons.
With the advent of the Corporate Identity and mass organizations, the rise of depersonalizing categorization by job function, and the eventual funneling of students into a more and more formalized and dehumanized educational system, we had, at one point, the "silent generation" of the Fifties. The ultimate achievement, in the eyes of True Believer members of this generation, was to get a good-paying job with a large corporation and to keep it. This required visible evidence of stability, and masters' and doctoral degrees were thought to be versions of this visible evidence.
The effect of this was to keep youth out of the labor market and in school until what the individualistic grandparents' generation would have thought advanced ages: twenty-one, twenty-two, even-in the case of veterans attending college on the GI Bill or in that of the vastly increased number of students studying for advanced degrees-as late as twenty-nine or thirty.
Sociologist Don Martindale put it this way:
Formal education tends to be a rather bloodless substitute for everyday life to begin with. When masses of individuals are crowded into the educational institutions to get them off the job market and off the streets, the remoteness from everyday realities increases. Great numbers of such students intuitively know that they are in educational institutions for want of something better to do, and tend to drift, doing only enough to stay afloat. It is often much easier for the indifferent masses to make an assault on the educational standards than to enter into fierce competition for grades.
Here Professor Martindale attacks the subject of the new political and social awareness on the part of many college students. He opines-somewhat wryly, if one reads between the lines-that modern youth has begun to develop and elaborate its own culture "with all its familiar forms" mainly through having nothing to do. Referring to the "hippie" movement of the Sixties, he says:
... a variety of the factors significant to the contemporary young come together; opposition to middle-class conventions; the urge to protest even when there is nothing to protest about; the uninhibited pursuit of sex; and the experiments on the control of experience by use of drugs.
The question of drug use will be largely ignored here. What is more germane to the present study is the breakdown of parental authority and, perhaps more striking, the substitution for it of peer group authority. The effect of this is commented upon by Theodore Ferdinand and in an essay entitled "Sex Behavior and the American Class Structure." Here Ferdinand maintains:
The spread of higher education among the middle class (and, one might add, the "disadvantaged" class) has meant that a substantial portion of American adolescents are regularly exposed to a social setting in which their sexual behavior is governed essentially by the adolescents themselves. Such a situation could not help but be more permissive than that which prevailed before the modern period ... A growing portion of the population is exposed to this permissive sexual environment. The sexual revolution in America, therefore, is largely a blend of existential and structural pressures impinging upon a segment of the total population.
This, as Bruno Bettelheim has shown in his study of peer-group authority and its effects in Israeli kibbutzim, is a mixed blessing at best. Along with one kind of permissiveness comes another kind of repression, subtler perhaps than the old parental version but equally authoritarian. And even the permissiveness has its deleterious effect in the blurring of the edges of identity, in the failure to establish accurate parameters of personality. This problem is also a special study of Erik Erikson, whose ideas were set forth in an interesting article in the September 1970 issue of Transaction magazine. In this piece the authors, William E. Henry and John H. Sims, describe Erikson's theories of "developmental stages" in personality thus:
A formalization of the nature and consequences of a sequence of what he [Erikson] terms "decisive encounters" between the predetermined biological and psychological capacities of the individual and his social environment. These stages are designated by polar terms, such as trust versus mistrust, autonomy versus shame and doubt, intimacy versus isolation, which define the positive and negative extremes of their developmental alternatives. The issues ... are normally critical at a particular period ... because of the human organism's genetic timetable and the impact of social institutions coordinated to it.
The authors assert that, while identity formation is a lifelong process, it reaches a developmental crisis during adolescence, "a time when the physiological changes of puberty, in conjunction with the advent of major social demands, disrupt and challenge the sameness and continuities of experience upon which the individual had previously based his psychosocial self-definition."
The authors further explain that "Erikson postulates that society meets the individual's needs during this stage of identity crisis and supports his progress through it by granting an institutionalized period of delay between childhood and adulthood."
This idea of "institutionalized delay"-or "psychosocial moratorium," as Erikson terms it-is further developed by the authors:
This "psychosocial moratorium" provides the time required for the transition from child to adult, for the operation of the process of becoming ... Most important, the neophyte-adult has the opportunity to establish patterns of consistent and continuous experience in the new roles he has assumed, roles through which his society is able to identify him.
"Identity diffusion" is Erikson's term for what happens when the individual, for one reason or another, is unable to make use of the "psycho-social moratorium" to make his place in society and establish an identity:
Sexually, occupationally, socially, both he and society are unsure as to who he is or what he wants to become. Acute identity diffusion usually makes its appearance when the individual is faced with urgent and simultaneous demands for physical intimacy, occupational choice and psychosocial definition ... frightened abstention from making choices leads to a sense of isolation and emptiness. This can lead to psychological paralysis as the individual attempts vainly to reconcile his terror of committing himself with his desire to create and control his future.
One of the directions American youth has taken in recent years, when faced with the "psychological paralysis" described above, has been the "dropout" tactic. What had been a rare and, to society, reprehensible activity among the lonely crowd of the Fifties-running away from the necessity for choice, for self-definition, into an obscure interlude of self-discovery-became in the Sixties a mass movement with its own sources of sustenance, its own ideological basis; and the "obscure interlude" lasted, in many cases, far beyond the brief Wauderjahr concept of previous generations. This was indeed a lost generation-but a lost generation intent on proving that one man's loss is another man's discovery.
The germinal figure, in any examination of the-period, is the runaway child (and a certain stretching of the term "child" is presumed here). In the Sixties and the early Seventies his numbers grew to alarming proportions. He is central to any detailed examination of the age, and he is the subject of the present discussion.
CHAPTER ONE: Horizontal Travelogue
"I took off from home two days after my sixteenth birthday. Not that the birthday had anything to do with it. It was more the time of year. You know, you kind of don't want to hitch rides all over the country during the coldest months, so I waited until May and then-poof-I split.
"This goes to show that my exit was not one of those spur-of-the-moment things. No way. I had the whole caper planned for nearly a year, ever since I had a session with my mother after they found out I had had sex with Bill. I mean they just would not leave me alone about it and I knew I just had to leave.
"We live in Toledo, Ohio. One of those solid old fashioned American families that all the politicians talk about being the salt of the earth and the backbone of the country and all. You know, the silent majority. Except that when it came to family life, we were anything except silent. To tell the truth, I think the average zoo or dog pound is quieter than our house.
"There are five of us kids, three boys and two girls. But my sister was the eldest and off and married, so I as the baby of the family had four men and my mom to contend with, and if you think being the youngest and baby sister and all means a spoiled life then you don't know my family. All we did was fight, and half the time it seemed that I was everyone's target. You see, my sister had to get married, having gotten knocked up while still in high school, so, with that for an example, my folks decided that little Sharon here was going to go down a different path. Which meant my being watched like a hawk and being constantly harassed with questions as if we were in the middle of the Spanish Inquisition.
"And my brothers were no help. All they cared about was bikes and baseball or football. I couldn't trust any of them because they figured that the less they had to do with me then the less my folks could blame them if I got into any kind of a mess.
"I never did get into what you could call a mess, but last year I did have this thing with Bill. He was two years older than I. We met in the Public Library where I was working on some stuff for the biology class. One thing led to another and we were soon dating, except that my parents didn't know about it. I won't bore you with the details about how I got around that, but a smart girl can figure out quite a number of acts to cover up, and I always was told that I was intelligent. Also that I was good looking. Bill said I reminded him of Natalie Wood in some of her early movies on TV. I never saw any resemblance except for the figure, but then one is a poor judge of oneself.
"At any rate, I guess I was in love with Bill. It seemed perfectly normal for us to finally go all the way with each other. I mean I had read all the books about sex, so I was more curious than worried. Bill had more experience than I did, so he guided me along, and although the first time it hurt like hell, I got to really like it after that. We did about all the things normal people do, I guess. I mean all the positions, oral sex and stuff.
"But then my folks found out and all hell broke loose. It seems that after one date I had not been careful enough. We had spent the afternoon at Bill's house when his folks were away, and after the usual balling I got dressed and ready to leave, but Bill, that horny guy, wanted to come one more time. I didn't want to get undressed again, so I blew him ... He got so excited when he came that I missed getting it all in my mouth and a lot of his semen got on my blouse. Since he was making me come with his finger at the same time I didn't notice it, and by the time we got ready to leave it had dried. Well, that was what Mom found when she was doing the wash. Right away she knew why the blouse was stiff around the collar. That's a new version for that 'Ring around the collar!' commercial for you!
"There was no chance for me to lie or defend myself. I was simply stamped a whore and victim of perverts and things like that. I was to be watched at all times, to go nowhere unescorted by at least one brother, and all kinds of crap like that.
"Well, you can imagine my brothers' attitudes when they found themselves stuck with me whenever they felt like doing something. It wasn't long until my life was unbearable, and little Sharon decided to split the scene.
"I made my plans carefully. All year I saved money and then one morning two days after my birthday I was gone, taking only a sleeping bag and a small suitcase with clothes. I got a bus ticket as far as Chicago, then headed west on thumb power.
"Why west? Well, if you're from Ohio, there are three directions you think of going: Florida, New York, or California. Florida seemed too remote, New York I hear is all dirty and full of junkies and garbage, so I thought California would be an ideal place and climate to get a new start somehow. So I went West.
"At first, when I was going by bus, the trip was very pleasant. People were very nice to me, helping me with the luggage and buying me sandwiches and all. I guess as long as people think you've got money they treat you with consideration. But once my reserves got so low that I had to literally hit the road, then things got wilder.
"From Chicago I got a ride on Interstate 80 to Davenport on the Mississippi with a tractor salesman returning from a convention in Detroit. He was a nice guy who kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye without saying anything. He was hungry, but also very much married, so he was completely harmless. Even got me a coke and a hamburger on the way.
"I really didn't expect to have any trouble across the Midwest either. After all, all you read about places like Iowa and Nebraska are about how wholesome the people out there are. The weather was fantastic, so I looked forward to a really enjoyable trip.
"It took me longtime to get a ride out of Davenport. The entrance to the Interstate was full of ragged long-hair types, so I kept away from them. Finally, however, a car stopped for me. Much to my surprise it was a woman.
"Get in before the perverts get you, honey!" she said. I wasted no time and in a couple of seconds we were on our way.
"She was an attractive blonde with short hair and a kind of sure way about her. She said her name was Janet, that she was a medical technologist, and that she was on her vacation, headed for Yellowstone. She did most of the talking while keeping her Chevy Impala at a good 85 mph all the way. Told me all about her career, about St. Louis where she worked, about her family and stuff. She liked to play tennis and ride horses. Since I can't do the first and am allergic to the second, we didn't exactly have much in common, but this didn't stop her from getting friendlier and friendlier. She sympathized with the fact that I had such a rotten home, didn't blame me a bit for taking off, and kept saying how she hoped things would work out for me on the Coast. To tell the truth, I got to like her a whole lot. I mean it's rare that older girls pay any attention to you at all, not to mention really getting interested in what you have to say. Janet must have been a good ten years older than I was, but she wanted to hear everything I wanted to say.
"Well, when two girls get to chatting like that, then time really flies. Before we knew it we were through Des Moines and half way to Omaha. It was starting to get dark, so Janet wanted to stop at a motel, claiming she got too tired driving at night. I was afraid that I'd wind up on the highway by myself in the darkness, but Janet asked if I wanted to share a room with her. Silly question.
"She got a very nice room and I helped her drag in her suitcase and stuff and we made ourselves at home. I had been virtually without sleep for about two days, so that double bed looked awfully good to me.
"Janet was awfully well organized. She had along sandwiches, milk, even some wine. After we showered she made us a meal. At first I felt kind of funny since I didn't have any bed clothes, and after Janet came out of the shower in a see-through negligee, I felt like a real tramp wearing just an old army shirt. But Janet gave me one of hers, and pretty soon we were sitting and giggling on the bed like a couple of coeds.
"I bet the guys tell you you're really stacked," she said, referring to my all too visible curves. I told her that it seemed to bring nothing but trouble and she said she thought all men were a bunch of pigs anyway. Considering about how I felt then regarding my brothers and father, I could only agree with her.
"Janet herself could hardly be called stacked, except that she did have the kind of figure I always admired. She was very slim and athletic, with small breasts and a well tanned body. You could tell she was into sports and stuff.
"Anyway, after we had the sandwiches, Janet asked me if I wanted some wine. I had never touched the stuff in my life, so this was as good a time as any to try. Nobody ever told me how to drink, so I drank the first glass as if it were coke. Wham! It made me woozy in a matter of minutes. A couple more glasses and the room began to sort of tilt, and I could see two Janet's sitting on the bed and laughing. I don't remember even saying 'good-night'. I just crashed and the light went out.
"I started to dream about Bill. I dreamt that we were at his place when there was no one else there and we started to make love. He felt my breasts and stroked my body all over, kissing me on the mouth and on my nipples. But the dream was not quite like reality. As I already said, Bill had always been a horny bastard. He'd get so excited all the time that he wouldn't waste much time on foreplay. It was always grab, squeeze and then wham! He'd be inside me. But in the dream the foreplay just wouldn't quit. Sensuous fingers were caressing every part of my body, and gentle lips brushed my skin delicately. It was driving me wild. So wild, in fact, that I woke up.
"At first I didn't have the slightest idea where I was, all I knew was that I was terribly excited, but that Bill somehow was not around. Then I remembered Janet, the wine, the motel room and suddenly I realized that it was her down there between my legs, her face next to my pussy, her hands all over my body. I gave a startled little cry and jerked a bit in surprise at the realization of what was going on, but one of Janet's hands reassuringly stroked my breast.
"Shh, honey," she whispered, "don't be frightened. Just relax and let me make you feel good all over."
"Probably if I had not had the wine and had not been so tired, I might have reacted differently. I don't know, I always felt that lesbianism was something deviate. But at this point I was still half asleep and I had already been brought to a sort of lazy excitement, so I simply lay there passively. After all, it was pleasant, so there could not be anything really wrong in enjoying it.
"Janet's mouth now came in contact with my pussy, and I have never felt anything so gentle and sensitive. When Bill used to go down on me he just rooted around gobbling away so that often I cried out in pain. But Janet's mouth was a precision instrument that used everything-lips, teeth and tongue-with a sensuality which was fantastic. She sucked in the inner lips of my cunt and, while they were inside her mouth, the tip of her tongue probed between them, softly caressing my clitoris. Electric shocks ran through my whole body at each gentle touch. She kept one hand around my breasts, caressing and fondling, but the other now vanished somewhere until I felt her fingers probing into my vagina. She inserted them only a little way, then carefully ran them around the opening, widening it and making me feel as if I had an enormous cock in bed with me that was slowly trying to get inside me. It was too much. I started to moan and respond with my entire body. She murmured her pleasure and the fingers probed deeper while her tongue tip flicked faster over the tip of the clitoris. When I just could not stand it any longer she suddenly sucked in just my clitoris between her lips and drove half her hand inside me. I exploded into a series of wrenching heaves that seemed to go on and on until my orgasm finally subsided.
"As I lay there in a daze, breathing heavily, Janet stretched out beside me and looking at my exhausted body masturbated herself. She did it with quick, gently probing fingers, making herself come within a couple of minutes. We then entwined our legs and fell asleep in each other's arms.
"Strangely enough, nothing was said about all this in the morning. Janet bought me breakfast and we talked about everything except sex. I guess this sort of thing was simply a natural thing for her and not really worth commenting about.
"I was quite glad about it, because frankly I did feel slightly ashamed, and I have no idea if I would have been able to discuss it.
"Unfortunately Janet's car had something wrong with the carburetor, and we were hardly on our way when the engine started missing terribly. We pulled into a gas station and when I found out that repairs would take a long time, I decided to go ahead. Janet was very hurt, I think, but in the end she saw my side of it, and after giving me her address and a fond hug we parted. I left her at the station and stuck out my thumb on the Interstate.
"The car had broken down close to Lincoln, Nebraska, so there was plenty of traffic coming up the on-ramp on which I stood, but for a long time nobody stopped. Some men slowed down a couple of times, but in the end kept going. A State Trooper gave me a cynical once-over, and for a moment I was scared that he would pick me up as a runaway. I suppose the full figure I have fooled him about my age, because he too kept going.
"I was getting to the point where I felt there would be no ride at all, when this huge tractor-trailer rig comes up the ramp and with a hiss of airbrakes comes to a halt beside me.
"Hop on up, kid!" a man yelled down and the door opened. I had quite a time getting up there, dragging my sleeping bag and suitcase, but I finally made it. I hardly had a chance to slam the door shut when the truck roars off with much changing of gears.
"The driver was an older man. In his late twenties or early thirties, I suppose. He was very tanned and had a weather-beaten lined face with sparkling, laughing eyes and a friendly grin.
"Fred's the name!" he said when we rolled onto the highway, "But all the guys on the road know me as Fast Freight Freddie."
"Sharon," I said, shaking his hand. It was tough and calloused.
"You a minor, Sheree?" he grins at me, "Runaway?"
"I'm eighteen and I'm going to a job in California," I said, but I felt myself blushing. He took a squinty-eyed look at me and laughed again.
"Yeah, I'll bet. Want to see how you'll squirm when I ask you for ID?"
"I squirmed all right.
"Well, don't worry, Sheree. Me and you will part company before we hit the Colorado line. That way nobody gets hurt. You'll want to be going Cheyenne way anyway. Me and my Peterbilt here, we're headed for Boulder."
"It was nice of you to pick me up," I said, trying to be pleasant and grateful.
"Oh, I figure you'll make it worth my while," he said, "there's a cutoff I know near Lexington where we can park the rig and have us a lunch and a dip in the North Platte. Hey, that's York coming up on the right! Vroom! Honk! There it went! You ball, little girl?"
"I didn't know how to answer that. I guess I got red.
"Yeah, you ball. Maybe not much, but you've been laid. I can tell that by the eyes. If you hadn't there'd be shock in them, you're just blushing 'cause you know I know ... Well, honey, that's the way you pay for your mileage."
"I was stunned. Did he really mean I'd have to make it with him just because he gave me a ride?
"He must have seen my face because he just grinned lewdly at me.
"Hell, honey, what did you see when this rig rolled up to you? A Yellow Cab? Look, no meter. There's no Salvation Army sign on the side either. What it says out there is Fred's Fast Freight. A private enterprise with yours truly as sole owner. Captain of the ship like. You want a ride, I want to ball, so baby it's either off you jump at the next rest stop, or you take a dip in the North Platte with old Freddie here. Aurora on the right! Vroom! That was it! Honk!"
"Why didn't I insist on getting off? I don't know. I wanted the ride. He was funny and not at all mean looking. Maybe I thought he was only half serious. I don't know. At any rate, he got off the highway at Lexington, we crossed the river and were soon bouncing over a dirt road with green wheat on one side of us, and the North Platte on the other. He pulled the rig into the shade of some trees, and the first thing I know we are outside with a blanket for a picnic table and Fred is examining the contents of a large lunch box.
"Salami and cheese," he said and closed the box, "but that's for afterwards, when we need strength. Meantime you-all come here, Sheree and let me teach you how to shift gears on a Peterbilt."
"Grinning happily, he pulled me down on the blanket with him and, encasing me in a bone-crushing embrace, kissed me with overpowering force. I gasped for breath, at the same time realizing that he had just removed my jeans. It was all so smooth and professional on his part. Before I knew it we were both naked on the blanket, in full view of the meadowlarks skimming about in the sky. I now realized the difference between men and boys. Bill had been a neat looking, athletic boy. Fred was a hairy-chested, muscular and powerful man. When he crushed me to his body and I felt the roughness of his body hair against my breasts I felt a terrible excitement and a desire to be taken by him. I also felt something else, an enormous, hot and muscular cock pressing against my abdomen. He leaned back for a moment and gave me a good view of it. Must have been proud of it. It was twice the size of Bill's. A crowbar-like pole, with a pinkish-blue bulging head rearing out of a matt of black hair. His balls were tucked up against it in huge, taut hairy sacks, and the whole thing simply looked like an apparatus for destruction.
"I never imagined they could get that big," I said in perfect innocence, because I was simply awed by it.
"That's because you've been balling kids," he said, "takes more 'n long hair to make a man, Sheree. Now, I'm good for a couple of shots, so why don't you suck the first one off, just so you sort of get the taste of it?"
"He held it up at the base so that it pointed straight into the sky, and I snuggled over to be able to suck it, I had always thought I did wonders for Bill, but this was a different matter and I found myself badly equipped for it. I could only get the head of it into my mouth. It was simply too big. When I tried to get more in, Fred yelled: "Hey, watch those teeth! You a beaver or something? That's the only stick shift I got!"
"So I cupped and squeezed his massive balls with one hand, and used the other to masturbate his shaft, while sucking and licking at the engorged head. He seemed to like it, for I heard him give a couple of pleased grunts. I started to work my tongue all around it, constantly jacking him off. When I started to mouth the underside of the head with my lips and tongue, right where that sensitive piece of skin is, he gave a groan and a hot splatter of semen hit me in the face. Quickly I took the whole head inside again, sucking like crazy, my hand squeezing as hard as I could on every down-stroke on his shaft. He squirted one batch of semen after another into me and there was so much of it that I could not swallow it all. It ran out the corners of my mouth, down his dick and over my pumping hand. At last, when the ache in my jaw was unbearable, he stopped shooting and the head got softer and smaller. I let it slide out, gasped for breath, and wiped the streams of semen from my face.
"Well, you may have a toothy little mouth, Sheree, but you sure got dainty little hands and a right smart tongue," he said, "but you just keep right on shifting gears down there like you been doing, and we'll have the rig highballing again in no time."
"I suppose it was a compliment of sorts, so I smiled. My mouth was still full of the sticky, bitter-salty semen and I was slowly swallowing it down. I kept jacking him off, raising the foreskin as high as it would go over the head, then pumping it down again. My hand and his cock were all covered now with white lather, and the big, half limp thing felt hot and slimy and alive in my grip. But it did not stay half erect very long. It jerked a few times, bobbed a bit, and then started to expand and harden. A few more strokes of my hand and he was as big as ever. I felt a secret pride at having done that to him so quickly. Bill always conked out for a longer period.
"When it was back up, Fred took my hand away from it and propped it up into the air again. "This time you just sit down and make yourself at home on it, honey," he said.
"I straddled him and eased myself down upon the massive shaft poking up at me. When the enormous head touched my pussy, it literally touched all of it, from the very front to the back. I could not imagine how I would be able to get it inside me, but I resolved to give it a damn good try. Fred was patient with me. At first I just moved my pussy back and forth over the head, getting it within the outer lips. This excited me terribly because on each brush the head would touch my clitoris. The excitement in turn made my lubricating juices flow, and soon I felt the tip of his cock getting all wet and slimy. I now tried to skewer myself onto it, but it was difficult. A part of the head went in, then a little more, until I was jammed right onto the heavy, hard ring at the base of the head. I felt I could go no further, but then Fred gave a quick sharp lunge with his hips, and in a painful flash the head vanished inside me.
"I cannot really describe the feeling. It was as if I had taken a hot glowing orb within me. A big round hot object that completely filled my vagina. Trembling with pleasure I slowly allowed my body to sink down upon the hard shaft of his cock. Inch by inch it sank into me, stretching the walls of my vagina and making me feel as if it were penetrating my entire abdomen. At last I felt the pressure of the head against my cervix, and although I had not sank down to the base of his cock, I was completely full of it.
"Very slowly, because I was still awed by the size of the thing I had put inside me, I rose off it, feeling its distended form ripple over the folds within my vagina. I came up so that only the head of his cock was anchored inside me, then I sank down again. Soon I had lubricated the entire length of his cock, and I could do it faster, rising and falling on it, each time driving it up into me all the way to the end of my own cunt.
"I had never been so gloriously filled before, and each thrust of that huge organ of his sent new waves' of excitement through me. I could not stand it, and I began to come, sobbing at the same time with the ecstasy of it. I drove down as hard as I could onto him, not caring if he ripped me apart, my orgasm driving my body with uncontrollable spasms of my pelvis. I rocked and swayed on top of him, half conscious and fighting to keep my balance. And then, when I thought my climax was beginning to subside, Fred suddenly sat up, twirled me around on his dick as if I were a toy, and I found myself down on all fours with him still in me from behind. His strong hands reached around and firmly gripped my breasts, squeezing the nipples, and he began to drive that torpedo into me with all of the brute strength he had. I started to come all over again, my whole body quaking until I fell on my face, my ass still up in the air and hung up by that piercing monstrous cock of his. His balls were banging the back of my pussy and there were loud wet and sucking sounds as he rammed me. I was eating the blanket and moaning and shuddering when I felt the searing hot jet of his semen burst into me. Pumping it into a lather, he deposited what seemed to be quarts of it in me before he finally let go of my hips and eased his meat out of my cunt, allowing me to collapse exhausted onto the blanket. God, did I know I had been fucked by a real man!
"I lay there gasping on my stomach, and Fred sat beside me hardly breathing hard. Then he scooped me up and suddenly we were in the chilling waters of the North Platte. I screamed, he laughed, and the two of us fell in over our heads. In a few strokes we were back on the shore, but now I was laughing, totally refreshed and cleansed of sweat and semen by the sudden plunge.
"Well, honey," he laughed, "now I guess I've spoiled you for every other man. But let's get some chow, you've earned it. All this horseshit is raising hell with my schedule and we gotta get that Peterbilt back rollin' on the old road."
"I suddenly felt a longing to stay with him. To stay in that damn Peterbilt of his that he loved so much, and go anywhere he went, and to have that hard body of his against me and all that fantastic cock ramming in and out of me. But Fred went his way. We rolled up the blanket after lunch and were soon back on the Interstate. He dropped me off in Big Springs, near the Colorado border, and then he was off. There went Nebraska! Vroom! Honk! And there went the most fantastic piece of sexual equipment I had ever seen."
The problem with the subject, Sharon, which drives her to leave home is possibly more overtly sexual than some others this study may concern itself with. Her identity conflict is strongly rooted in the undeniable fact that her level of sexual maturity (i.e., her ability to engage in sexual intercourse with resultant orgasm) has far outstripped her level of emotional maturity.
Thus, while she achieves various sexual relationships without undue harm coming to her, she fails various times in the course of this excerpt to make use-for the purposes of growth-of the opportunities that her adventures afford her for self-discovery and the development of the ability to make successful and healthy emotional relationships.
These include such potentially useful adult contacts as that made with the lesbian-or bisexual? It is not quite clear from the brief interlude described here-Janet, from whom she learns certain things about her own bodily functions, and the exploitative but curiously honest truck driver Freddie, from whom she learns certain things about the sexual capacity of the male.
To be sure, it is scarcely surprising that she makes so little use of these experiences (preferring, as she does, to drift into the airless "hippie"-type relationship she finds with the young drifters she meets at the end). She is, after all, very young, particularly in the emotional sense.
It is a curious medical fact that the age when a girl reaches sexual maturity seems to be bumped back slightly with every passing year in the present cycle. Dr. J. M. Tanner reports on this situation:
During the past one hundred years there has been a striking tendency for the time of adolescence, as typified by the menarche or growth spurt, to become earlier. The data on heights and weights of children of school age and below show that the whole process of growth has speeded up and that all children born in the 1930's or 1950's, for example, were considerably larger than those born in the 1900's ... Age at menarche has been getting earlier by some four months per decade in Europe over the period 1830-1960. Other European data, though not quite so regular, agree well with these figures. The trend in height and weight at about this age is closely equivalent to this amount of four months per decade, children of ten thirty years ago having the size of children of nine at present ... It is interesting that at the same time as the menarche has gotten earlier, the menopause has gotten later, suggesting that the pituitary is involved in the genesis of both trends.
Contributing nothing of value, and much that is of real harm, to the situation is the fact that advertising with a distinctly sexual bent is directed at younger and younger girls with each passing year, each advertisement urging the adolescent girl to grow up and buy constantly-and buy products which have strong sexual overtones. These include special cosmetics, some of them allegedly blended for "problem skin," toothpastes which allegedly invite "him" to "kiss you again," and a vast stream of mouthwash and hair coloring commercials aimed at the female child just becoming aware of her sexuality. Add to these the fashion of mini-skirts, hot pants, bare-midriff dresses, no-bra looks, and you become increasingly aware of a growing bombardment of American girl children with material of a sexual nature.
Little seems to be happening to change this trend, and indeed the current propaganda directed by the media at America favors the notion that the finest thing in life, for people of all ages, is completely uninhibited sexual license. Result: the young girl in our society is becoming more and more assertive about her fancied rights to sexual self-expression at any age, and she tends to select her own time, place and method of achieving her own seduction with the willing aid of the boys she manipulates into seducing her.
In previous centuries her family would have dictated when she would marry and whom. Today, because of the rapid disintegration of family life, the young girl in high school thinks of herself as completely adult-however tragically wrong she may be about this-and demands adult "rights" to determine her own sexual destiny.
By any legal standard prevalent in the fifty American states at present, Sharon is a "delinquent child" during the entire period covered in the present excerpt. A medically or scientifically accurate definition of the term might prove hopelessly vague as to be inoperative and useless, as Dr. Robert L. Stubblefield points out:
Modern concepts of delinquency suggest that children who are called delinquent are ill primarily in terms of society, in their inability to conform to the social milieu. Since the social and cultural milieu is influenced by many factors-education, radio, television, socio-economic levels, minority racial groups, poverty, war and threat of war, civil rights movements, immigration, and many others-it is not possible to give precise definitions of delinquent behavior.
Perhaps one might say, for a start, that delinquency was the name we give a counter-culture movement consisting of one lonely deviant personality in conflict with his or her environment.
The isolation inherent in this position has a definite paranoid taint, with its exquisite sensitivity to slights, etc., in interpersonal relations. Mistrust, suspiciousness, envy, jealousy and stubbornness are characteristic. It is difficult, however, to find these traits in Sharon's personality, however easy it may be to attribute them to the collective outlook of the group with whom she affiliates at the end of the excerpt recorded here. Some other mechanism is clearly at work in her passive and devastatingly complete acceptance of their values and ideas-their "life-style," as the current cant has it. She seems much more the classic dropout or runaway than the rest of the people she travels with, with her too-easy relaxation into a posture of inability or unwillingness to cope directly with the larger environment with which her runaway tactics brought her into contact.
"From Big Springs I got a ride as far as Potter, which is only a few miles, with some kind of Sunday School teacher. He preached at me the whole way, telling me how I should be careful, that there was sin all over the highways, and that young girls are forever getting into trouble by hitching rides all over the country. I barely listened, for I kept thinking about that Fast Freight Freddie's stick shift. It still tingled inside me, and I found myself really hot and horny. He must have really made a woman out of me that day.
"Out of Potter I got picked up by a really unusual character. This big Lincoln with Florida plates sprayed gravel all over me coming to a stop, then backed up nearly running me over. The door popped open and I peered inside. All I could make out was a blond mop of curly hair and a mouthful of teeth.
"Climb aboard and trip out with the joys of health!" a guy's voice yells. I got inside. There was very little traffic, so you can't be too choosy.
"Peeling out and laying down rubber, the Lincoln took off and I sized up my new benefactor. It was a guy in his twenties who was built like Hercules. I mean it. All muscles. Must have worked years to get them built up like that. And he knew he had a body on him, for his satin shirt was unbuttoned all the way to the waist, where a studded wide belt went around his narrow hips. The car was full of weird little bottles and vials, and it smelled awfully funny. The guy gives me a big grin and introduced himself.
"I'm John Baptiste Bistiere," he said, crushing my hand with his, "known in New Orleans and Miami as John the Baptized Beast! Good, huh?"
"I guess it was my day for nicknames. I told him my name.
"You don't know how lucky you are I picked you up," he said, "I may change your whole life, Sharon. Normally I never pick anyone up, but you looked as if you were weak, so I could not help stopping. That's my mission in life, Sharon. I help the weak and make them strong. After meeting me your whole life will change. Here, feel this arm."
"He flexed his arm for me to feel. It was as big as my thigh or more, and bulging with all kinds of improbable hard muscles.
"How many inches, do you think?" he asked, "Don't know, huh? Well, I got twenty four inch arms, you know that? And what do you think my waist is? Look at it. What do you think? It's twenty-eight inches. That's right. I got the figure of a Greek god. Better. All of me is perfect!"
"Right there, at seventy five miles an hour, he peels off his shirt and wiggles out of his pants.
"Don't be afraid," he says when I gave him a wild look, "I'm no pervert. I won't hurt you. I just want you to see this bod. The body of John the Baptized Beast! Look at the legs! You think I neglected those legs! Look at those calf muscles! Then look at my abs, see how they ripple? Not an ounce of fat!"
"With each he would demonstrate by flexing whatever muscle he was talking about, pointing them out with a finger, one hand on the wheel. I saw that he either had no cock or else had no erection, because his reddish pubic hair was all I could see.
"And you know how come I'm perfect? Because I live right! I don't eat the garbage everybody does. Nothing but the health foods that my company produces. No additives! Everything organic! No fat from slaughtered pigs! No booze! You got to live inside your body. Not inside your house or car. You live in your body. It's the first thing you should perfect! That's what I've done and what I'm going to teach the world to do! Sharon, girl, you don't know how lucky you are! Here read the labels on these!"
"He shoved some bottles and jars at me, but the labels were Greek to me. It was all kinds of garbage about seeds and herbs and the inner strength of nature's miracle products. One built your bones, the other muscles, a third hair. It was crazy mumbo jumbo, and all carried the brand name of Doc John the Baptized Beast, New Orleans, La.
"While I was examining the products, Doc Beast tilted the rear view mirror and was examining his body bit by bit, now flexing this or that. It must have turned him on, for suddenly I saw something rear up out of his pubic hair. Oh, it was his cock all right, but I nearly got sick when I saw it.
"See? You see?" he pointed at it with great pride, "I told you all of me was perfect! Every detail! Just look at it, have you seen a more beautiful reproductive organ in your young life?"
"Now I knew he was crazy. The thing that poked itself up was about three inches of stubby pink meat. That's about how far up it went. Three inches. And that is about how wide or fat it got. Three inches. A three by three cock! It was disgusting. It reminded me of the wooden plugs I have seen for wooden barrels. Just a fat pink plug.
"But Doc Beast obviously loved his ugly duckling. He rotated an open palm around the head for a minute, then took the thing in two fingers. "Got to keep all parts of you in shape!" he winked at me, "Nothing stays trim without exercise!" And the weirdo started jacking off right in front of me!
"Seeing that pink snail turn beet red in his hand almost made me throw up, but the guy just kept on smiling and milking the pathetic, disgusting thing. It did not last long. Suddenly he gave it a couple of fast jerks and a thin shot of semen hit the steering wheel. He squeezed out a few more drops and let them ooze down around the cock and wiped his hand on his chest. Without explanation he also started to slow down.
"You've just seen one of the miracles of nature," he said, "you'll never see a more perfect machine. Subscribe to my magazine: "The Intelligent Monthly" and eat my products. Your entire life will change for the better and you can become a miracle like me."
"He stopped the car and opened the door for me from inside.
"Go, child, and think about what you have witnessed. I must drive on alone in order to transcend into meditation."
"Again he showered me with gravel, laid down a strip of rubber, and was gone.
"For a while I wasn't sure that I had really experienced that last freaky ride. I mean what a creep! I think if it wasn't for the fact that I was on the run from authorities myself, I would probably have let the cops know about him. Who knows when a dingaling like that might get out of hand and really hurt someone.
"We had gotten to Wyoming by the time he let me out. I know we went through Cheyenne, and I remember seeing signs about Laramie. It was getting well into the afternoon and the air was quite cool, promising a cold night. All the way out of western Nebraska I had the feeling we were climbing, and the rich agricultural fields had now turned into prairies and grazing ranges of the high plains. I began to wonder where I would spend the night, because I did have my sleeping bag along. I am not really all that much an outdoor freak, and I am terrified of being alone in the dark.
"For a while no one paid any attention to my thumb. Then a guy on a motorcycle stopped, but I was always afraid of those things so I shook my head. After a while a big sedan pulled up and a bald man wanted to pick me up. He looked drunk and kind of mean, so I passed on that too. I was getting a little depressed and hungry now, and almost wished I had taken some of Doc Beast's health food along. I mean even nuts and seeds are better than an empty stomach.
"I was sort of sitting on my suitcase and staring at my feet feeling miserable, when a two-tone horn blared at me. I looked up and this vehicle was slowing down onto the shoulder. I say vehicle because at first it was difficult to really define it any better. Only a closer inspection showed it to be an ancient school bus, converted into a sort of live-in truck or camper. Multi-colored paint was peeling from it everywhere. On a radio antenna was a ragged American flag flying upside down, the signal of distress. Flower decals and peace symbols were plastered all over it and it looked generally as if the whole thing was held together with bumper stickers. They said things like: 'If you like sex honk!' 'America-if you love it then fuck it,' 'A faithful wife: Piece with Honor,' 'God's not dead, only stoned,' and a few others I don't remember.
"As the strange thing came to a halt I could hear hard rock on a stereo through the windows. A guy with embroidered jeans, beard and blond pony tail came out the side door and gave me a big mock bow.
"Lost virgin, your shining knights have come to rescue you!" he said, "Care to make it with us in our migrant pad?"
"I was pretty amused by this strange looking outfit, so in no time at all the pony tail had me and my luggage inside. There were at least half a dozen people inside the bus, about half of them girls. Also a couple of sleeping dogs. Later on I found out that since the dogs got carsick, the kids kept them stoned when they traveled. I say kids because all the people were young, everything from about my age to early twenties. The interior of the bus was something else, too. It had crazy tasseled curtains in the windows, the ceiling was a glut of posters and the floor was covered with pieces of carpets of various textures and colors. A tape deck blared rock so you could hardly hear yourself and there was a definite smell of pot and incense in the air. Besides the driver's seat there were no other seats, only bundles of clothing and mattresses strewn on the floor. To describe the occupants is to talk almost in stereotypes, for the kids looked exactly like everything that my folks hated when they saw such persons passing through Ohio. Long hair, beards, funky clothes, spaced-out expressions and weird jewelry.
"The driver, Saviour Stan, seemed to be sort of head man in the place. He had a fierce mustache and straight black hair, and was wearing a sleeveless sheepskin jacket, bellbottoms and moccasins. Before he drove on he introduced me to the whole bunch, rattling off names like Heavy Mike, Speedy Gonzales, Melon Mary or Clitty. I naturally got them all confused and just nodded towards the interior of the bus where the whole bunch was sprawled around, nodding in time to the music and not paying any attention to me.
"Crash anywhere there's space," Saviour Stan said, and I unrolled my sleeping bag on the carpeting so as to make myself a softer place. Soon the bus was rolling again and I was able to take a better look at my new companions, although due to the loud music and heavy clouds of pot I was having trouble registering in my mind what I saw.
"Lying close to me was the girl called Melon Mary. She was on her back, eyes closed, dreamily blowing a joint. Her shirt was unbuttoned and one naked breast was fully exposed. She was a bit on the plump side with large breasts, so I suppose that's how she got her name. She also had blond hair that hung below her waist. Pony tail was also stretched out close by, lost in a world of his own due to the fact that he had put on a set of earphones and was grooving to his own separate drummer. Beside him lay a really cute chick in T-shirt and jeans, and beyond were more people whom I really couldn't make out too well.
"As the bus rolled on at a steady rate, Melon Mary finished her joint and propped herself up on an elbow, grinning at me stupidly, her full breast swinging out of the shirt. She was completely stoned, but she still made a little sense. She told me that Saviour Stan owned the bus together with Speedy, the pony tail. They just wandered all over the US, Mexico and Canada. Everybody else there was semi-transient, in other words staying with the group as long as they wanted and splitting when they felt like it. For money, the Saviour and Speedy had an easy remedy. Both were experienced as short order cooks, a skill which it seems there is always an opening for all over the country. The girls with them would work as waitresses, but all in all they would only hold jobs long enough to make it possible to get rolling again. It seems that the Saviour had an obsession about at least once going down every road in America.
"After a while Mary stopped talking, looked over her shoulder and grinned.
"Clitty's running up the flag again," she said.
"I looked back and must admit that I got quite a jolt. The girl in the T-shirt was on her back, head propped on a sleeping bag, eyes closed and a vague smile on her lips. In her hand she held the erect cock of Speedy, who paid no attention but kept on tripping with his head set. Clitty was dreamily making her hand go up and down on his cock, gently jacking him off. "It's her thing," Mary explained, "it's the way she kills time."
"They were so casual about it that after the first shock I also just sort of accepted it, although watching it like that right before my very eyes did excite me. Clitty maneuvered all of Speedy's cock and balls out of the fly of his jeans and caressed it with nice rhythmic strokes, using her thumb to tickle it underneath the head. The cock began to let out lubricant, and her thumb smeared it all around the head until it was shiny from it. Then with her other hand she casually undid her jeans and began to play with herself. She used two fingers, slipping them expertly through her hair and in between the outer lips, then manipulating her clitoris with them. She looked like she was playing the piano in slow motion.
"The sensations must have been getting through to Speedy, because he moved a bit to make it handier for the girl. I could see that now she was squeezing his cock a bit more and jacking him off a bit faster. She took her hand out of her cunt, slipped it under her T-shirt and pinched her nipples. She winced and smiled at the pleasure she was giving herself and when her hand went down to her crotch again the nipples were large and erect, poking like little stumps up through the cotton material. She now took a harder grip on her own pussy and those two fingers really began to dig in, at the same time her hand began to fly up and down on the music fan's cock. Suddenly she grimaced, closed her legs tightly around her hand and tensed all over in a convulsive orgasm. Her hand jerked roughly a couple of times in her crotch, held still, and then her body relaxed. Speedy also moved his hips a bit and as her hand came down on a downstroke a spurt of semen shot out of his cock, landing on her T-shirt. She smiled and rolled over, taking his cock in her mouth and milking him into it. He came with a couple of short, hard thrusts and I saw her throat at work at swallowing him. I found myself with my own hand clutching at my pussy.
"After Speedy came the girl just lay there with the cock all the way inside her mouth, her hand between her legs and her eyes still closed. She gave a great satisfied sigh, and I guessed she started dozing right there with the guy's cock as a sort of pacifier in her mouth.
"About this time the Saviour drove off the main highway and we started going down a pretty rough farm road. The old bus rattled and shook, but it didn't shake the cock out of the sleeping girl's mouth.
"One of the guys in the back of the bus made it up front on all fours with hardly a glance at the sucking girl. He reached over and pinched Mary's nipple. She gave him a lazy glance and without a word got out of her jeans. The guy lay down on his back and got out an enormous erect cock. With her back to him Mary straddled him and took the cock inside her, settling down the best she could on her knees. The bus rocked and swayed and she had to reach out with one hand to use the side wall to keep her balance.
"They were both absolutely passive. The guy just lay there staring at the roof and Mary sat rocking with the motion of the bus, her large breasts bouncing and jiggling.
"He calls it road-test," she said to me with a smile, "just stick it in and let the bumps do the work. And let me tell you, if you hit a good rut at just the right second it can be a real heavy trip." She looked towards the driver, "Saviour Stan, give us a few pot holes, man!"
"The Saviour looked back and grinned. He began to drive the bus slightly more erratically, now and then allowing the wheels on one side to rumble over the edge of the pavement. Mary balanced well, her face showing a kind of quiet pleasure. As the road got rougher and the guy below her would be thrust up into her by the bumps she would open her mouth in a silent groan and clutch at the side for support. Soon she was breathing heavily and suddenly hissed: "Shit! I'm going to come!"
"The bus hit a good bump, rattled over the shoulder of the road, and she rolled up her eyes and ground down on the guy below her, a low moan escaping from her lips. Just then there was a loud ripping sound and the whole bus rattled with vibrations. We had shot over a cattle guard in the road. Mary gave a screech and just came and came, her body finally sagging down into a sort of hunched over ball of flesh, her hair hanging down over her face and touching the floor of the bus. For a while she kneeled like that, resting and savoring her orgasm. When she rolled off the guy, his half limp cock slid out of her, trailing a thick strand of jizz out of her cunt. She took his cock in her hand and carefully licked it clean. That's when I winced at my own orgasm which I had pinched out of myself right through my jeans.
"The Saviour stopped the bus, looked back at the satisfied couple and shook his head grinning. He opened up a map, studied it thoughtfully for a while, then put it away and got the bus rolling again. After a short time he turned onto a dirt road and drove for a while through hilly range country. Soon it gave way to more and more trees until we were driving through a sizeable forest. When we came to a nice flat clearing he pulled into it and stopped, turning off the engine.
"Okay children," he said, "we're home for the night, Zip up your pants and take a downer if you're flying, let's get some wood and make camp."
"It was lovely. Just like a gypsy camp or something. There were these Wyoming mountains and forests all around us, a fantastic sunset over the Rockies, a bonfire in the clearing and the smell of Mexican refried beans in the air. The blare of acid rock from the tape deck gave the whole thing a really weird feeling, as if it all wasn't real.
"Not knowing their routine, there was little I could do except help gather firewood. But nobody seemed to mind. They were all kind and helpful. I got a plate of beans which, after the active day I had had, tasted better than anything I had ever eaten.
"When we finished eating and washed up the pots and plates in a nearby stream, it was already dark. Only our clearing was lit up with the orange glow of the campfire. Saviour Stan came over to where I was sitting.
"Well, little bird, think you want to hang in for a while?" he asked.
"Oh, God, I'd love to," I said, "You're the nicest people I've met since I left home."
"You're into the runaway scene, huh?"
"I nodded, suddenly afraid that it meant that I would not be able to stay with them.
"He squatted there thoughtfully for a while and stroked his mustache. "That's all right, little bird," he said, "most of the crap in the world deserves to be left behind. Let's you, Speedy and me go into the bus and see if our vibes match enough that we can make it together."
"The kids were unrolling sleeping bags all over the place and sacking out, singly or doubled up. The Saviour took me inside the bus and Speedy soon showed up. They turned on the lights inside the bus, indicated the mattresses and began undressing. It seemed the perfectly normal thing to do. In a moment I was also naked and on my back, looking up at the wiry frame of the Saviour standing over me with a long crooked cock sticking out of him like a branch out of a tree. He made a motion for me to get up, and instinctively I knew what he wanted. I knelt in front of him and he smiled down at me, taking my head in his hands and pressing it towards his cock. Almost gratefully, I let it slide between my lips and over my tongue, getting as much of it inside as I could.
"Easy, little bird," he said, "relax your throat and you can get it all in ... That's it."
"It worked. I just sort of let the back of my mouth and throat go slack and suddenly there was the hot nob of his cock back there and my nose was up against his abdomen. I withdrew and sank down on it again, terribly proud of myself. It was fantastic. I could now just let the whole thing go in and out of me without any trouble. I did gag a couple of times, but he didn't seem to mind. Reaching up I stroked his balls and they drew themselves up tightly in their sack.
"He still kept his hands around my head, now and then running his fingers over my face to feel my bulging cheeks or to feel where my lips were stretched around his cock. Without moving his hips he began to rock my head onto his cock at an increased speed, until it was literally flying in and out of my mouth. I felt the slippery foam we were churning up in there, and it began to ooze out of the corners of my mouth and all over my chin. I gave his balls a hard squeeze and he suddenly tensed, took in a deep breath and rammed my head against him so that his balls hit my chin. I felt a hot surge hurtling into the depth of my throat, and in a second my mouth was brimming over with shot after shot of his jizz. I swallowed, I let it drool out, I sucked and sucked, wanting to empty him completely. At last he let go of my head and slowly slid his cock out of my mouth. I looked up at him, unsure whether I had really pleased him. He smiled down at me then bent over and kissed me, his mustache getting wet in the jizz all over my face and his tongue probing into the bitter-salty fluid in my mouth.
"Out of sight, little bird," he grinned, "now make Speedy happy."
"Speedy. I don't to this day know if he got his nickname for dropping speed or for the fact he could fuck at a hundred miles an hour. At any rate, when the Saviour stepped aside, Speedy was there with his cock as large as I had seen it when it vanished into Clitty's mouth before. He laid me out, spread my legs and brought them up so he could get them over his shoulders. Lying down on me he slipped in his cock smoothly, got a good grip on the mattress, braced his legs, and really gave it to me. The first strokes were easy, sort of just feeling out the territory, but as soon as he found his range he began to pick up speed. I was startled by how well coordinated he was physically and how rapidly he could pump himself into me. The whole bus began to rock as he drove himself faster and faster into me. I had to reach up with both hands and hang onto that pony tail of his, so violent was the jarring. I started to come, losing my breath and fighting to keep from yelling my guts out. Speedy now became a blur above me, his cock a ramming jackhammer that seemed to be all over my insides, pumping and driving with the staccato of a rapid-fire rifle. I had no air in my lungs to scream as I came, making only funny noises from the depths of my stomach, and then wincing and grinding my teeth at the excruciating pleasure this super-fast cock was giving me. My orgasm was all over by the time he filled my pussy with his jizz, ejaculating hard and fast right up against my cervix. I was so exhausted and heaving from the experience that when he finally got off me I thought I would throw up, but after a few gasps I finally was able to get control of my trembling body. Between my legs was so much lather that almost all of my pubic hair had vanished in it. My god, did I feel I had been fucked! Not in all the weeks I had been with Bill in Toledo had I had experienced a fraction of what had happened in the two short days since I ran away.
"Man, she's got one heavy snatch," Speedy told the Saviour, "I think she'll make it."
"And that is how I found my home away from home, because from then on I stayed with that bus and Speedy and the Saviour until I was old enough to be legally on my own. Their life-style and outlook on society changed me completely, and the sexual side of life which they introduced me to made me a full woman at an age when others are still dumb virgins."
There are redeeming qualities-in the sense of their proving eventually useful in her rehabilitation-in Sharon which are difficult to find in her companions. One may only hope that she does not remain overlong at the present stage of development, but will forsake the lotus-eating habits of her friends and adopt a more positive attitude toward life.
CHAPTER TWO: Judy's Gone
"I once heard that people climb mountains just because they're there, and I didn't know what they were talking about until I found myself standing at the side of that road.
"It looked like a long curving strip of black licorice candy, and it wound its way through the fields and just kept on going, just as I'd wanted to do all my life. That's when I decided to follow that candy road, just to see where it went.
"Okay. So that's not the only reason. Maybe there was a little more to it than that. Maybe what was waiting on the other side of that road wasn't so good. Maybe the snaky black road reminded me of that snaky black whip that I'd be sure to get a taste of at home ...
"Some girls just kind of grow up and nothing much happens to them along the way. They get to be about eleven or twelve and they start to change and get some shape, and maybe they get a few pimples. And that's their biggest problem in life. Then they start dating and everything is fun and silly, and then they find some guy who turns them on and next thing you know they get married and start having babies. That's the way it happened with my sisters, anyway, though Marie did it the other way around, the marriage and baby part.
"Not me, though. Nothing ever went the simple way for me, Even though I was much younger, I could remember my sisters going through their teen years. They got bitchy and hair started growing where it never was before. Their flat little chests began to get pudgy and then take real shape, and in between the bouts of pimples they dated and laughed a lot and had fun. And if there were any complications no one ever knew about it. Even Marie's pregnancy wasn't such a big deal.
"By the time I got around to going through the hair and bump stage my mother was all played out at doing the girl-growing-up thing with me. More than that, she'd been getting into it with my stepfather, and her attention was in other places.
"My stepfather. He was another thing. He was the first, really, and everything that came after that had a little bit to do with him and what happened.
"I was just thirteen then, and I'd had one of those lousy days. Nothing had gone right and I had been chased home by this terrible chick who was two years older than me and hated me, just because I'm blonde and pretty and already I had a nicer figure than she'd ever have. I'd gotten ready for bed and I'd taken time after my bath to look myself over carefully in the big mirror in my ma's room. Naked, I mean. Just to see how I was coming along.
"Maybe I was a little in love with my body in those days. I was real cute, though, small and kind of busty for a kid, two little chunky mounds topped with honey colored tips that sort of went in until I played with them, and then they stuck out a little. I was slim and round and soft and pink, and I was still amazed to find all the flatness and boy-like straightness gone.
"I'd been alone in the house all evening. Ma and Tony had gone to a show in town, and I liked having the big farm house to myself. I was free to prance into their room naked, and sometimes I'd find a pretty gown of Ma's and try it on. I guess I. was so busy looking myself over I never noticed Tony in the doorway.
"He was good and drunk, and he was looking at me like I was the blue-plate special and he was starving to death. I guess I screamed, and then I went to grab for something to put over me. The towel was the closest, so I grabbed at that, but then he was there, on me, kissing me and holding me, and he tossed the towel to the floor.
"I was shocked out of my mind. Tony had been married to my mother since I was eight, and I didn't think of him in any way but as her husband. Now he was holding me down, moving me over to the bed, and he was drunk.
"Tony! Don't! Cut it out, you hear?" I said, pushing him away, or trying to, anyway. I was beet red from having him looking at me naked, and kissing me, but he wouldn't stop.
"Don't pull away, Judy, honey. Oow-wee! If you ain't the most adorable thing I ever did see!" His words were all slurred, but his boozy mouth found mine without any trouble, no matter how much I moved it away.
"If you don't stop I'm gonna tell Ma what you were doing, and she's going to kill you," I threatened.
"That set him to laughing so hard I thought he'd have to let me go. "That ma of your'n wouldn't even know what I was doing no more," he said, after he stopped cracking up. "She ain't given me no pussy for months. If her daughter don't make up for it I'm gonna kill her one of these days. Don't you go and threaten me like that, girl. You just be a good girl and Tony'll make you feel real good ..."
"As he talked he began to rub one hand all over my naked body. He covered one of my titties with his whole hand, and he squeezed it and rubbed it and stroked it in some kind of way so that mad as I was, and scared, and helpless, it began to feel so good. Then he reached lower and I almost died to feel his hand on my little cunt, stroking it and playing with the fuzz down there, and then trying to get inside me. I felt such mixed emotions that I began to cry. It was terrible, awful, the worst thing that ever happened to me, and yet his touching me like that got me to feeling so hot and excited I could hardly stand it.
"You like what old Tony's doing to you, don't you, girl? Huh, Judy, "fess up, now ... "
"His knowing only made the whole thing all the more humiliating. I stopped my shivering and crying because there was no point to the crying and I sure wasn't cold any more. His finger which was rubbing back and forth between my legs was moving more slickly now, and I knew juices were coming out of my own body to make it so slick. Pretty soon he was sticking that big old finger of his right up inside me!
"I swear I don't even know how it was happening, but I was stretched out on the bed-my own ma's bed-and he was on top of me, his mouth eating up one of my titties and his fly opened, and his big hard pecker sticking out, and I was wrapping my legs around his hips like some old whore! It wasn't until he started sliding that pole of his into me that I remembered we were doing something horrible, and I began beating at him and yelling my head off, and twisting this way and that!
"But all I was doing was giving him more fun, I think, 'cause he just kept pressing that dick against my tiny hole. I was no virgin in the physical sense. A bad fall had taken care of that when I was little. But I sure was a virgin as far as taking any dicks up there, and it hurt. Oh, Lord, did it hurt! I swear that thing of his was like a log being shoved up my little hole, and I thought I was going to die before he got it all the way in.
"But I didn't die. Worse, I didn't even find it so terrible once it was in all the way. He was so drunk that, well, he was only able to shove it in and out of me a few times before he screamed, grabbed my hips so hard I was black and blue for a week, and shot his big load inside me, though I didn't know what he was doing at the time. It was just getting to the point where it didn't hurt at all and I'd shut up so I could see how it did feel without distracting myself.
"Once he'd done his thing to me, he was off me in a second. He looked at me kind of dazed, like, and then he was gone, running out of the house as if he was on his way to a funeral. Or from one.
"I picked myself up. I was all messy and my cunt was leaking this clear stuff, and I was hurting now for real. I managed to get to the bathroom, and it wasn't until I was back in that bathtub did I begin to realize what had happened. The most awful thing was that there were parts of it that I'd kind of, well, liked.
"I never did tell my ma. I couldn't. But after that Tony got real mean to me. I finally figured out that somehow he blamed me for getting him all worked up that night. Me! And after that night he was always looking for some reason to dress me down or knock me around or whomp on me. He kept threatening me with the big whip he had hanging on the wall, and I knew he'd use it if he got mad enough.
"And now he had his reason. He'd know by now, and if I followed the black road the other way I'd have me a taste of that monster.
"What happened was that since that night I did a lot of thinking about my body and sex. And I began to fool around a little. You know, just experimenting. I'd find me some boy and we'd touch and play with each other, and nothing much would happen. Then I met old Steve, and the first time I started playing with him he shoved me down on a pile of hay and did the same thing to me Tony had done. Only Steve took his time and made it feel so nice, and after that we were just fucking each other every chance we got.
"Steve was smart, too. He was eighteen and he didn't mind that I was only fourteen. Almost fifteen by the time we were caught. Anyway, I hated the rubber things Steve was always putting on his dick first, so he got some of the pills his sister took for me. I had my own stash, but since I kept it hidden so well I wasn't worried about any one finding them. I should have been that careful about our fucking.
"It wouldn't have mattered so much if that rotten Hadley hadn't been the one to find us. He was a friend of Steve's brother Gregory, and Hadley was really crazy about Steve. I thought he was some kind of a queer, the way he always followed Steve around and looked up to him. He hung around Gregory just to be near Steve, and he hated me so bad he'd have liked to see me die. But we didn't know he was around the day we climbed into the barn over there.
"We were both so hot and eager, we just didn't think to see if anyone was around. We never got enough time alone, anyway, so we snuck into the barn, pulled down our jeans, and he got right on top of me on the hay. His pecker was hard and big, and he just rammed it right in there. We were really going to town when fat old Hadley came and looked over our shoulder.
"Steve didn't see him until I started yelling, and Hadley was up and gone by the time Steve got to his feet and managed to pull his pants back on. I wanted to go stop Hadley, knowing he would go tell Tony, sure as he was breathing air. But Steve kept insisting he wouldn't do that, and he kept insisting I let him finish screwing me. I didn't want to, but he kept insisting, standing there with his hot pecker sticking out. So I figured if I was going to get blasted with that mother whip, I might just as well get my pleasure out of it. He really threw a fuck that time, almost as if he knew it would be our last one for a while.
"That was when I noticed how inviting that road looked, after I left Steve and started home. I didn't have anywhere to go, and all I had on me was the eighteen dollars I'd gotten from Steve's ma for the eggs she'd sold. But home had a whip and Tony, and the road was pretty. Just then a truck came along, and before I had a chance to think about it, I'd stuck out my thumb, the truck had stopped, I got in and I was on my way!
"The driver was this real nice dude. He was a lot older, maybe forty, and he didn't try anything. He just swallowed my story that my ma was over at my aunt's house in Milldale and I was hitching over to see her since the chores were done. He was only going as far as Milldale, which is about twenty miles from my home, so that was a good story.
"Milldale is a little hick town and I could tell every eye in the place was on me, just waiting for my ma to place a runaway kid ad in the local paper so they could say they had seen me. I bought a donut and a bottle of orange pop at a little store, and then I walked along that friendly black candy road until I was a mile or so out of town. I dumped the soda bottle in a fire gutted outhouse in the middle of nowhere, and I wished I had another donut, but I didn't go back.
"That highway was my friend, and no sooner did I stick out my thumb than a fast-moving car screeched to a stop and asked me where I was going. I mumbled something, and the guy took it from there.
"Did you say Nashville? I aint goin' that far, but I'd give you a lift far as Edgemont."
"This guy was much younger, maybe twenty-five, and from the moment I got in that car I knew I'd be fighting him off.
"He was kind of cute, though, sort of like Steve only more city in his ways. He was wearing some striped pants that were real nice, and a pink shirt. Pink! Hadley wouldn't even dare wear a pink shirt, but you could tell he was no Hadley. He said his name was Bob, and he put his hand on my knee, then his arm around my shoulders. We hadn't gone three miles before he was stopping the car and trying to kiss me.
"I got him to lay off that stuff until we were pretty far out of town. "Listen," I warned him, "I'm running away and I'm only fourteen. If we don't make tracks and they find me with you, you are in trouble! So how about doing this later, huh?"
"He got the point fast, and he took off, but the part about being fourteen didn't seem to bother him one little bit. In fact, it seemed to suit him just fine.
"You really only fourteen?" He stared at my titties. "You kind of big for fourteen, ain't you? Never mind, I believe you. You sure are a sweet little girl. You sure ain't built like no kid. But young ones is nice. You sure are nice. I'm gonna treat you nice, honey. Listen, Judy, I'm gonna stop at some fine motel, and I'm gonna get one with a big swimmin' pool, and we are gonna swim and live it up. You ever stopped at a motel? One with a swimmin' pool and a room service thing where they bring you all the food you want without having to leave the room?"
"I nodded, and already I began to feel excited. Oh, I was no dope and I knew that he would want to do some screwing in return for all that, but it sure sounded good, the swimming part and the room service.
"You don't look that young and I could say you were my wife. No, maybe I better say you was my little sister. Yeah." And then he laughed, as if thinking what they would say when they found the sheets the next day. "We better wait til we get good and far away, though. Why don't you take a nap or something? I'll drive us far from this dump."
"I would have liked a nap. Anything to shut him up. Maybe I would like letting him fuck me later on, but he sure was dumb to listen to. I shook my head though, a little afraid to close my eyes around this guy. I reached out and flicked on the radio, and instantly music blared out too loud to talk over. I think he thought about turning it down so he could say some more, but he was too proud of the way I was impressed with the sound of his radio. It was a stereo and real nice, and I let him know I liked it. A new group was on, one I didn't know if I liked yet, and I wanted to hear.
"We drove fast in that car, slowing down only when we came to a town, and once stopped, Bob kept more or less quiet from then on. The road was kind of hypnotic anyway, the endless black ribbon leading to and from nowhere, and it made me start wondering where I might be going.
"I hadn't given that much thought, and I began to feel a little taste of panic. Where could I go? I had only thought to go, and now I didn't know the next step. My mind was just blank, and fear and confusion got the best of me. I'd go and fuck this Bob and feel better, but I sure had to have somewhere to run to.
"It was a little like being in a dream, and I was so caught up in my worries and all that I wasn't even aware of Bob's hand creeping up my leg.
"Marie! I thought of my sister Marie. She lived with her husband and baby in Nashville, and she was my favorite sister. I could maybe tell her about Tony, and maybe she'd let me stay with her. It was a place to go, anyway.
"With that off my mind I became aware of Bob and his hand. I started getting interested in all the fun I could have on my way to Nashville. And I also remembered something else. "I'm hungry," I complained, looking at his hand. "Could we stop and get something to eat? Then maybe we could start looking for that nice motel?" I had the feeling this was going to be a real nice trip."
The preceding case-that of Sharon, the middle-class runaway-provided a set of data on maladjustment among the relatively affluent. Defining this type of personality is fairly easy these days; vast numbers of relevant studies have been published in the last ten years.
One of these is the interesting Children Who Hate by F. Redl and D. Wineman, which provided a careful delineation of the techniques of the delinquent ego-most notably, they point out, an ego whose strength lies in its resistance to change.
Among these techniques are the strategy of evasion (no guilt), the search for delinquency support (enlisting other peers to shore up the delinquent value structure), and the mechanized warfare with change agents (fighting authority figures).
To be sure, there are elements of this in every "normal" adolescent. As Anna Freud said,
Adolescence is by its nature an interruption of peaceful growth, and the upholding of a steady equilibrium during the adolescent process is in itself abnormal.
Changing values in a culture are mediated by ever-new generations of adolescents devising differing values from their parents as they themselves mature. This momentum for necessary change has its psychological frictions in disturbed and disturbing adolescents, but not all that is disturbing is disturbed.
One may, as Anna Freud says above, expect the adolescent to behave in an inconsistent and unpredictable manner, and one may be concerned about the child who shows no alteration in behavior through adolescence. In the same paper she pointed out that it was not yet possible to predict from a knowledge of earlier life development what adolescent development will bring. There are simply too many new variables. The arena of life in which adolescence is played is much larger than the family. It introduces political, social and sexual problems of such immensity that they become differences in kind.
Judy-the present subject-has a totally different background: lower-middle-class (or working class, perhaps; she is not specific) genteel poverty. And her problem is precipitated by her mother's remarriage to her stepfather, whose pedophiliac tendencies are brought out by her rash and heedless behavior.
Pais and paidos are from the Greek and mean child. Philos, also Greek, means lover. Therefore, pedophile means lover of children. As such, the man who indulges in this deviant practice is easily one of the most vilified of offenders. The seducer of children is regarded as low indeed even in the hierarchy of prison life, and he is often ostracized even by fellow convicts whose own offenses would make his seem mild indeed to the objective eye.
It was not necessarily always so. As has been pointed out by one observer or another, the early Hindus and Chinese, among others, considered it essential for a very young girl to become betrothed and then married as soon as practicable and possible. This casual attitude toward childhood was shared by the early Hebrews, as Geoffrey May pointed out in his book Social Control of Sex Expression:
Among all the ancient Hebrew law as to sex expression there was no punishment provided for voluntary sexual relations between the unmarried. Fornication was not a crime ... If the girl were an adult-that is, over the age of twelve years and six months [our italics]-the man having intercourse with her not only was guilty of no crime; he was not even liable to her father for her bride-price.
One may be sure that our laws governing statutory rape-based on Judeo-Christian tradition though they may be-do not emanate from this source! However, later Jewish law did not continue in this vein, and what the Christians borrowed later was a result of what May describes as follows:
Because the Biblical law seemed inadequate to deal with the increasing tide of sexual immorality toward the beginning of the Christian era, [Jewish] reformers attempted in three ways to make the rules more inclusive: they sought to reinterpret the older statements to make them more restrictive of sexual conduct; they sought to impose new and stricter laws to meet specifically the new situations; or they sought to withdraw entirely from the seemingly hopeless environment and, secluded, to practice among themselves a more stern code of sexual morality.
By the time Christianity had reached a sort of decadence in Victorian England, the pendulum had swung to a curious point. The century preceding Victoria's accession had reached something of a peak in sheer bestial lust; as David Loth points out in The Erotic in Literature, by the eighteenth century in England the years at which a girl was regarded as choice ... had dropped even lower (than eleven), and part of the mania was delight in the child's pain ... Children described as coming hardly above a man's waist were pregnant; even more horrible was the practice of renting out a little girl to be deflowered three or four times, sewing her up after each operation to get her ready for the next.
As Loth indicates, the practices continued into Victoria's day-but in a peculiarly hypocritical fashion.
In every age there have been men ... who took an inordinate delight in deflowering young virgins ... But what one historian of sex habits called the "defloration mania" was an English phenomenon. Naturally enough, it happened during the greatest era of "hush and pretend" that had yet been known-the Victorian.
Judy's seduction-call it rape, however she comes to react to it-is hardly one of the gruesome affairs described above, yet it is an experience which will scar her young life. At the time of the interview, she shows few signs of being permanently harmed by it; but the experience is one she is going to have to live with for years to come.
"He fed me the best meal at this rib place just off the road. I really was hungry, and he was paying, and it was a long way to Nashville, so by the time we came out of the place I was so full I could hardly move. I didn't want any sex stuff then, being that full, so I asked Bob to please cut it out for a while. It was starting to get dark, and his high-powered car had been eating up the road so nice we were halfway out of the state.
"Bob started looking for a motel. He wanted to stop at a few, but they didn't have pools, and he had promised. Finally he found a perfect one, and we stopped.
"I sat looking at the pool while he went in to sign the register, and I started thinking about my room and my things, and it felt strange, not ever seeing them again. But that also meant not seeing Tony, and I didn't mind that at all. I didn't think about ma too much right then. I'd have time for that later on.
"I wanted to go swimming right away, but Bob didn't. It was warm out though, and I promised him we'd only stay an hour, so he gave in. I didn't have a suit or anything, so he first had to go find a store and buy me one. He was so impatient you'd have thought the swimming wasn't his idea in the first place. He had a suit in the car, and soon we were in the water. He was mad too because I wouldn't let him in our room while I changed. I knew if he stayed we'd never get to swim.
"All the time we were in the water he kept trying to catch me and feel me up. I let him a little, and his big old cock got to be so hard and stiff right in that water I thought he'd die of it. I teased him a while, and then, when I was good and cold, I let him talk me into going inside.
"He wanted to fuck me right away, but I told him I had to have some cake and milk first, and besides, he was the one who told me about room service and got me all fired up. I got the milk and cake. Chocolate layer, my favorite, but the milk was on the warm side.
"By the time I was finished Bob was fit to be tied. I sat on his lap while he kissed me and took off my clothing. It felt kind of nice, and he was being sweet, considering the big hard thing in his pants. Finally, when I was naked, he just went wild. He loved my little titties, and sucked each of them over and over. It felt real nice, especially when he sucked the tips into his mouth. But that was nothing compared to what he did next!
"He made me get on the bed, and then he got on his knees by the side of the bed. "I love that sweet young pussy," he moaned, and then he kissed it! But that wasn't all! Next he took his fingers and spread me open, and then he began to lick me inside there! It was the wildest thing that ever happened to me, and the feeling was so strong I didn't know if it was good or bad. Before long I knew though, and I was moaning and groaning and tugging on his longish hair, and I thought if he stopped his licking and sucking of my cunt I'd sure have to run right out of that room. But he kept it up until I kind of went all shocked all over, and I'd come twice before I knew what it was I'd done.
"Then Bob got up, and he threw off his clothing and that big purplish dick of his was so swollen it looked like he'd been in an accident. Well, he just threw me back on that bed and he got on top of me, and Lord, that little sucked-out cunt of mine never got a workout like that man gave me!
"He kept whispering things in my ear, like talking about how I was only a little girl and I had such a nice cunt, and how he had sucked on me, and how I had such cute little titties, stuff like that. And all the while he was throwing that dick into me, and when he came, man, he almost flooded the bed. He came so hard I thought the neighbors would be in. Some sister I was!
"He was real tired from the driving, and we fell right to sleep. I got up earlier than him in the morning, and as usual, I was hungry. I got dressed and left a note about being at the restaurant down the road.
"I ate a big breakfast, waiting for him to come join me, but he didn't show, until finally I couldn't just sit there any longer, and so I had to pay for my own meal. I walked slowly back to the room, enjoying the sunshine, and when I got back the room was locked and Bob's car was gone!
"It took me fifteen minutes to believe he'd really gone off and left me. I was feeling we were really close, you know? I mean, he had licked at my pussy and we had fucked real nice, and now he was gone. It wasn't too hard to figure out that as much as he loved my being just a kid last night, in the bright light of day he was thinking about my being a kid and fucking me a whole different way.
"For a little while I was kind of lost feeling, but then I remembered my nice, friendly waiting black ribbon road. I stopped at a candy store and got a dime's worth of licorice sticks because I'd wanted some since I first thought of taking that road, and I walked out of town and started hitching again.
"Things weren't so easy this time. Nothing but women came by, and they didn't want to stop for no girl. Or it would be men with wives and men with women and kids. They were different, and though most of them looked at me as if they would love to stop, I didn't see even one of them ask their wives if it was okay. They just kept on going.
"At last a VW bus pulled to a stop, and in it was a bunch of hippie guys. I was all excited inside, but I played it kind of cool, you know? One of them was smoking some weed, and he passed the cigarette to me just as if I was one of them. I watched how the others did it, and I took a puff, and I must have done it fine, because no one acted like I was just a kid playing grown-up.
"They were talking about music when I got in, and except for passing me the joint every time it came back to being my turn, they kind of didn't pay me no mind.
"There weren't any seats in the van, so I just sat down like the others, on the floor, and the stuff I'd smoked had made me feel kind of lightheaded and loose all over. I found myself right next to this guy Art. He was a fine looking guy, with long sideburns that got wide at the bottom, a big moustache, and long black hair. He had a little smile on his face all the time, and he was playing a concertina. He glanced over at me.
"You sure are a cute one. You get me horny, just looking at you, honey."
"I liked the cool way he said that. It made me feel so good and grown up, too. I gave him a big smile and told him he was kind of cute, too. We were kind of positioned off from the others by an overturned desk, but I don't know if that had anything to do with what he said next. "I'd sure go for some head now, honey. How about it? I'd sure like to get my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours."
"Now he didn't say that mean or ugly at all. I know it sounds strange, but he said it kind of sincerely and sweetly. In fact, he said it so nice I immediately wanted to do it to him. Only I'd never done it before, and I didn't even know how to start.
"He took care of all that. He unzipped his crazy purple and green pants and pulled his dick out. It wasn't too big and it was only a little hard, but it grew just in his hand. Then he motioned for me to get my head down there. I got comfortable on the floor after first glancing around to make sure the others didn't see what we were doing. They all had their backs turned to us, and were rolling and passing more dope around.
"I thought of what Bob had done to me the night before, and I began to run my tongue up and down over Art's nice prick. He seemed to like it, and I got the whole thing all wet with my tongue. Then I began to suck on the head. I don't think he liked that, or maybe he was just sensitive there, but he pushed my head all the way down on it, and I nearly passed out. It wasn't painful, that wasn't it, but it sure did crazy things to my windpipe. Finally I got it so I could lick and suck it without gagging, and Art just let me do whatever I wanted to it with my mouth. I'd never even thought of doing such a thing before, but I was liking it just fine. He was making little noises and bumping his hips up and back in my face, and I was getting a lot of pleasure out of giving him a good time. The funny thing, though, was that this guy had some magic way of making me feel good while I was doing it to him, though. All of a sudden I felt myself go all soft and weak and happy, and before I knew it his dick was sure feeling finer than ever, and I was trying to take it far enough in to do that gagging bit again.
"I guess it was back about then when I got aware that the other guys were noticing what we were doing. I heard one of them laugh, but friendly like. Another one called back to Art. "That's old Art-instant score man. Outasight, man, outa-sight!"
"I'm the dude who's so fuckin' hot I'm 'bout to bust my buttons, and Art's the bastard who gets it on! Come on, you mother, give the rest of us a chance."
"I started to pull away, but Art put his hand on the back of my head and I could tell he wanted me to go right on with what I was doing. Those other guys were so distracting it was hard, but I could tell that they were just having fun, kidding us, so I didn't feel bad or embarrassed or anything. My head still felt light and kind of airy, and my body felt hot and creamy, and when one of the other guys came up behind me and started feeling and rubbing my ass I couldn't help wriggling it a little.
"Oh, you are one fine little chick," the boy said, and I recognized his voice as the one they called Kenny. He began to run his hand up and down my crotch, and before too long he was fumbling with my clothing and I was feeling sweet warm air between my open thighs. Then the super soft knob of Kenny's prick was poking around at the entrance to my cunt, and I just kept right on sucking that one dick while my whole body was getting it set to feel another one. Boy, this running away stuff sure was fine! I was starting to hope the trip to Nashville took a long, long time!
"The rest of the guys just went wild when Kenny started fucking me from the back, that way. All of a sudden hands were everywhere, grabbing at my titties and playing with my white ass, and legs. I giggled around that cock I was still sucking, and then it shot off in my mouth, and I was choking on all that sweet goo. Art took it out of my mouth, and no sooner was my mouth free than the boy they called Hero filled it with his stubby little tool.
"Well, let me tell you, the rest of that ride was something! Somebody thought to close off the windows with the curtains, and the driver pulled over as soon as he found a turn-off, and those boys, they got me undressed quicker than you could think about it! They mostly just pushed off their pants, but Kenny and Art stripped right down, and did we have a time!
"Elgin was a short funny guy with the biggest whang I'd seen yet, and he tried to get it inside me. Well, he was so big he couldn't even do it! Not even when he spit on it. I was pretty wet up there by then, anyway, but he couldn't get even the whole head inside. So I tried to help him by sucking on that thing of his, but it was so thick I had trouble doing even that! Finally I ended up sucking on the head and licking on the shaft, and using my hand to work the skin up and down over the head I kept in my mouth. Man, when that Elgin came, he really shot off! I had to spit it out all over him.
"Three of them fucked me and I really liked it. I would have thought that it would hurt and maybe that I'd be like that queen who died from too much love, but all I felt was so good I could have died from happiness. Those guys accepted me like I was part of their grown-up group. No one asked me my age or anything.
"That wasn't all we did, either. I think I ate every dick there, and maybe Art twice. None of them said or did anything about doing that tongue work on me, which was too bad, but it was so good anyway, that I just didn't care.
"We finally got dressed, smoked some more dope, stopped at a McDonald's for hamburgers, and ate our heads off. Let me tell you, I was so hungry I couldn't stop eating. Those guys didn't have much money, though so I ended up paying for the stuff. It cost me over four dollars not counting the cigarettes I bought them, but I figured the ride alone would be worth it.
"But things got bad after that. A car full of cops started giving us funny looks as they drove next to us on the highway. Art started getting all paranoid and funny, and I opened my big mouth and had to go and mention that I had run away from home. When they heard how old I was they really got up tight, and the next thing I knew they were pulling off the road and letting me out, even though they were still going my way.
"Sorry, chick, but the Man is gonna come down on us hard if they find you with us," Kenny said.
"Besides, we're carrying all this dope, Judy, and that wouldn't do you no good if you're caught, either. So maybe we'll meet up in Nashville or some swinging town some other time."
"They coolly waved and one of them even threw me a joint and a left-over hamburger, and they were going down that licorice road again, burping clouds of smoke and raising clouds of dry dirt at my feet.
"I got a ride all the way to Nashville after that from some old dude who looked like some prissy school teacher. Only sure enough he wanted to have a little sex fun, but I was too worn out. So I faked falling asleep, and pretty soon I was asleep.
"It must have been an hour or so later I came back to life feeling his hand roaming all over me. He had his prick in his hand and he was pumping on it for all he was worth. Which, according to his old car, wasn't too much.
"Smarter now, I kept still and pretended I was sleeping. It seemed to me that every single time I had some fun with a guy it was downhill from there. I kept feeling good and then finding myself out on the fucking road, and I got to thinking that maybe afterwards these guys had enough, and weren't so interested in taking me with them. So I thought maybe if I didn't do anything, in fact pretended I didn't even know anything was going on, then maybe it would be a different story.
"The old guy just kept pounding on that thing of his, and he touched my little tits and rubbed my leg and before I knew it, he was shaking all over. Then he let go of me, wiped himself with something, and rested a minute or two. Then we were driving again, and there was my old friend that road, and off in the distance was the start of Nashville!
"I didn't have Marie's address, so I went right to a phone booth the minute I got out of that car. I thumbed through the directory, and before long I had the address. I thought about calling first, but then I got worried that between the time I called and the time I got there she might decide to call our ma. So I went to a gas station, got me a city map, and set out for Marie's house. I was a little afraid to hitch a ride in town.
"There were police around, and as I walked I got to thinking that it might be even more dangerous to be walking than riding. It would be terrible to get caught just when I was so close to being there. Just then a bunch of guys and girls drove along, and I quickly stuck out my thumb. They stopped and I got in.
"They were just out for a little fun, but much as I would have liked to go with them, I really felt I better get things settled with Marie. They were real nice, though, and they took me all the way to her address. Then they drove off and I waved, wishing I could have gone with them.
"It was a run-down wood frame house, and I knocked at the door before I found the buzzer. Then I rang a few minutes, but there was no answer. Disappointed but patient, I sat down on the steps and waited. Before too long an old lady walking by stopped and asked if she could help me.
"I told her I was waiting for my sister Marie, and she told me I'd have one long wait. It turned out Marie and her husband and child had moved from Nashville the month before. They went somewhere up north to see about some good job Larry was offered, and once she said that I remembered that Marie had written, telling us about the move!
"Well, there was nothing much for me to do then but go home. It kind of got me down, and I knew that big old whip would be there waiting. But maybe they wouldn't use it now, what with worrying about me being gone so long. And, if he tried to, maybe I could tell him how I'd learned some nice things on my trip, things I could show him if he was nice to me ...
"One thing was for sure-the trip back would be a bunch of fun. I got off those steps and walked to the street. Then I stuck out my thumb and started home."
Judy's essentially healthy ego may survive the degrading experiences that precipitate, and accompany, her runaway jaunt, but her return to the same household bodes ill.
CHAPTER THREE: Rocky Mountains Drifter
"I took off after dark, since I had no desire to have anyone know about the direction I was headed. I felt pretty sure Hadley would figure I split south for Mexico, not only because that's the traditional direction for anyone on the lam, but also because I'm half Mexican and to a guy like Hadley it would seem quite logical that I'd want to be with "my own kind of trash' as he put it.
"In reality I was headed north, and I hoped that I'd make a good thirty, maybe thirty-five miles before daybreak. In this part of the country that's quite a piece, and I would be able to rest up during the day without too much of a chance of being found. Anyway, I had planned it so that Hadley would not probably be back at the ranch for another day or so, so I had plenty of time to cover ground.
"I had been planning this ever since spring when I found out that Hadley was going to sell Buzz. Buzz is a four-year-old gelding bred at the Hadley Ranch, and he's the only thing in this world that I feel I really have a right to. Ever since he was a yearling, when I first came to work for Hadley, I spent day in day out with Buzz. I halter-broke him, broke him to the saddle, and taught him everything he knows. So when Hadley ups and says he's going to sell him to Slim Carter, I decided it was time to do something about that.
"I suppose that some sort of explanation is in order to clarify my relationship with Hadley, so I'll start at the beginning.
"My name is Rick Santos. Right now I'm sixteen and behind bars. Not the first time, but this time may be for longer than I care to think about.
"My dad was a Mexican migrant farm worker and a wino. He left my mother, an Okie from Tulsa, when I was about six. Never did see him again. My mom worked in a cafe and supplemented her income by balling truck drivers. When she got busted the last time, about three years ago, there was some dope involved in it, so they put her away in an institution in Kentucky. I was sent to a foster home, but having a wandering foot I soon wound up in a so-called corrective institution. It was Hadley who got me out on a sort of parole. He wanted to have cheap labor on that ranch of his, so the state of New Mexico was more than glad to stop feeding me and hand over to Hadley one sound juvenile Mexican-American.
"Hadley's place was near Pojoaque, north of Santa Fe in the valley of the Rio Grande. It consisted of about three hundred acres of fair pasture on which he ran quarter horses. That was why he chose me from the juvie lockup. The supervisor told him that I was familiar, with horses and had been working them since I was big enough to get into the saddle by myself.
"At first I liked being at the ranch, even though I was treated as a second class citizen. Hadley was prejudiced against blacks, browns and yellows, and I more or less fitted into the middle category, despite the fact I had my mom's blue eyes. But ranch life is great for a tough kid like myself, so I just let all those "greaseball" comments pass and did my work. I wrangled, mended fence and dug post holes. The usual ranch work. Also I saved all I could from the rotten wage I made. That's how I got my saddle and also my education. You see, Hadley did not pay much attention to the state conditions which required him to see to it I got an education. And in rural New Mexico, no one pays much attention to some dumb Mexican kid on a ranch. But I gave a damn, because I learned early that if you don't know anything, then everybody can screw you. So I invested my money in books, and although I had little formal schooling and no diplomas, I did have a fairly broad horizon that the books opened up for me.
"Well, when Hadley decided to sell Buzz I decided to head for that horizon.
"I planned it carefully, making my move when Hadley went off to the spring quarterhorse auction in Albuquerque. I took everything I needed. Sleeping bag, hobbles, cooking gear, several days food for me and extra feed for the stock. I took Hadley's 30-06 Winchester and my own Colt Woodsman .22 pistol. Then I got hold of Buzz's papers and forged them so they looked as if Hadley had sold him to me. I took along my sheepskin coat, the slicker and my best shotguns. The night after Hadley left for Albuquerque I packed the gear on Judy, Hadley's best pack mule, saddled up Buzz and headed north. Sam, the collie, lit out with me.
"Why did I do it? Buzz was all I had to love, I guess. Having worked him since I was fourteen, the year I came to the ranch, I had grown so fond of him that I could not bear to see him go to Slim Carter. Slim was a rodeo cowboy and wanted Buzz for a roping horse. Buzz would have made him a good one, but he was too good for Slim. That guy wore out horses the way the demolition derby guys do cars. I knew that after a couple of seasons Buzz would be a mess of bowed tendons and swollen hocks and his mouth would be a goddam abortion. So I decided to take Buzz, head north into Colorado, then west to Utah, where I hoped I could get work on some of the smaller ranches in the canyonlands of the southern part of the state. I knew I was burning my bridges behind me. I was stealing and crossing state lines with the things I had taken, so I would probably face some sort of Federal as well as state rap. But there was no other way. I had to go and be free.
"That first night was a beautiful experience. My whole heart seemed to sing with the joy of feeling untied and free. My family, the three animals, seemed to sense it too. Buzz snorted and farted, feeling his oats, Judy plodded behind us with nary a balk, and Sam bounded along with a happily lolling tongue and a delighted grin all over that pointed snout of his. The moon was out in a clear sky and bathed the valley of the Rio Grande in patterns of silver and gold. I remember distinctly how my heart leapt with excitement as I locked the last gate of the Hadley property behind me. I looked to the west and said goodbye to the massive peak of Santa Clara which loomed over the ranch, and, touching Buzz with a tap of my spur, headed north. A new life lay before me, behind was the past, no longer important.
"We made good time that night. I had for weeks worked with Buzz with the idea of leaving Hadley, teaching him to graze with his hobbles on and to get along on poor pasture while covering a lot of miles over rough country. So he was well muscled and tough, without any pounds of extra fat to burn. He was lean and rangy for a quarter-horse. Having been cut rather late, he had developed a strong sturdy neck and a generally powerful appearance. In the moonlight his chestnut coat shone with an erie silvery-gold glow and his white stockings seemed phosphorous bright. I whistled happily and chatted with him, Sam, and the mule, feeling that we made quite an invincible team.
"At daybreak I camped near the Rio Grande. The grazing was poor, but I found a spot where we were quite well hidden. This was important to me, because Highway 64 was not far on the other side of the river. We rested all day and moved out again at night. By the next day I had made it about abreast of Tres Piedras, but I kept to the bottom land, avoiding both Tres Piedras to the west and Taos to the east. On the third day out I crossed Highway 142 and I knew that I was safe at least from the sheriff. I was in Colorado.
"Checking the maps I had taken from Hadley's place I tried to figure out how best to go on. The valley where the Rio Grande flows through Colorado is pretty well surrounded by the Rockies. To the west you got the San Juan range out of which the Rio Grande flows. East is the Sangre de Cristo range and the north is corked up by the Sawatch range. All the passes out to the north or west, where I was headed, were ten thousand feet or more, and, this being still early spring, there would be snow and very cold nights. I wasn't sure that Buzz and Judy were up to it. I decided to keep heading up river until I got to Alamosa, where I was bound to get some information.
"Right near Alamosa, however, when I left the riverbank and got on the highway in order to ride into town, I ran into a police roadblock, I don't know what it was for. May just have been a safety inspection or something like that. Probably they would not have bothered me since a horseman with a dog and pack mule is still a pretty common sight around there, but I was in no mood to chance it. Whistling for Sam I headed north for Mosca, clattering across the highway at an easy lope.
"I had only gone a few miles using the shoulder of Highway 17, when I came on the scene of an accident. A cattle truck had blown a tire and swerved off the road, ripping out a lot of fence from the adjacent range and sideswiping a telephone pole. Somehow the gate on the side of the trailer had gotten open from the impact and there was stock bawling all over the road and hopping over the pasture.
"A really helpless looking cowpoke, the driver, I guess, was running around with an electric cattle prod and waving a rope, trying to get the dogies together. It was like trying to field twenty baseballs at the same time.
"When he saw my outfit he looked as if he'd just laid eyes on an angel.
"Son, the Good Lord himself must of heard me calling and sent you," he said, "you think you can help me get these fool critters back into the rig?"
"I looked over the mess for a while, figuring the best solution. Then I nodded.
"Tie up my mule," I said, "drop the loading chute and we'll give her a try."
"You never saw anyone give a more grateful smile. I shook out a loop, whistled up Sam and went into the pasture over the downed fence. Sam was by nature a sheep dog and I had used him a lot for moving horses back on the ranch, so cows were no problem at all. I just told him: "Round 'em up, boy!" and he was off, doing the work of three riders at least. I took one flank of the bunch and Sam the other, and with a bit of rope slapping and whistling we soon had them bunched together. Buzz knew cutting work and he hopped around like a dancer, not letting one steer head out of the bunch. We got them back towards the fence towards the loading chute, then we just loaded them. With me on one side, the cowpoke with his prod on the other and Sam nipping at their heels, they just bawled and loaded. The couple that had run off down the road I rounded up in a couple of minutes and pretty soon the truck was loaded and the gate secured.
"Mighty grateful to you, boy!" the cowpoke said, extending a hand, "My name's Sid Collins."
"Rick Santos," I said before I knew it. Damn, why did I have to give my real name?
"Right nice cow pony you got yourself there. Hell, if you hadn't come along I'd be out there all week trying to get 'em together. Where you headed?"
"West, I reckon. Trouble is, I don't know where to cross the San Juans."
"He tipped up his hat and rubbed his chin. Must of been in his forties. All creased and weather-beaten with half gray sandy hair.
"Yeah, see what you mean," he said, "specially this time of year. Nights get pretty cold up there and there's no graze to speak of." He squinted off towards the San Juans for a while, then patted Buzz on the shoulder. "Tell you what, Rick. My place is about five miles up the road. Can't miss it. You'll see a sign for the Double Bar Z. Why don't you go on in and tell my daughter Cindy that you helped out her old daddy and for her to take and get some grub into you and your stock. I'll get this tire fixed and get them dogies to Alamosa. When I get back we'll talk about getting across the San Juans. How's that?"
"It sounded fine to me so we parted as old friends. I headed up the road, now and then looking back but he never did get the new tire on for as long as I could see it. I figured it would take him a while.
"I found the dirt road with his ranch sign and headed west on it, back towards the Rio Grande. The ranch house was set amid a lot of feeding pens and corrals. It was one of those typical cheap rural homes with an unkempt yard and the butane tank sitting beside it. A couple of mongrel dogs came out barking at us and old Sam got his hair up but kept close to Buzz. A girl's voice called back the dogs, who for all their noise were wagging their tails. I rode up to the front porch and touched my straw Stetson to the girl standing there. She was about my age, blond, her hair in a pony tail. She was wearing a checkered flannel shirt and jeans, her feet in a pair of awfully beat up moccasins. She was cute and kind of bold looking.
"Rick Santos, ma'm," I said, and then told her about her daddy's troubles.
"She thought the whole thing terribly funny and invited me to come in the house. I unsaddled and unpacked Buzz and Judy and turned them loose in a corral with a couple flakes of alfalfa Cindy provided. Sam got a can of dog food which he gobbled down with great satisfaction, since the ranch dogs just had to stare at him and drool. I dusted off the best I could and went into the house.
"You look like you just stepped out of a Marlboro ad," Cindy laughed as I clunked in with my spurs still on, "but you smell just like round-up time. Why don't you take a bath while I fix you something to eat?"
"Bath? I just had ... " I began, but trailed off realizing it had been some time ago.
"That's what we got indoor plumbing for," she said and hustled me off to a tight little bathroom full of hair curlers and little bottles. While I was taking a shower I heard the bathroom door open and close, and when I parted the curtain I found that my clothes were gone. I hollered for them through the door, but Cindy yelled back she had stuffed my stinking shirt and jeans into the washer and for me to wear a towel. This was getting embarrassing.
"I put away some scrambled eggs and ham sitting in the kitchen like some refugee from a Turkish bath. Cindy watched me eat with a kind of weird grin on her face. Finally she said: "You brown all over like that?"
"Anglos can sure be tactful. "Yeah, I'm half Mexican," I said, "and that means at least a quarter Indian."
"I like that," she said, now standing beside me, "I think it's neat to have a permanent tan." Her hand touched my shoulder and I felt her fingers run softly down my back. It sent goose pimples running out all over my skin, and I knew my face now really took on an Indian shade.
"She felt me shiver and giggled. "Never been touched by a girl before, Rick?"
"Another dumb question. I had had my first piece of ass, a chola from Tucumcari, before this one knew the difference between a prick and a turnip. I had other worries.
"It's not that," I said, "but I can just see your daddy coming through that door with me like this and ... "
"Don't worry about that," she interrupted, "It'll take him the rest of the afternoon to fix that tire and get rid of the stock. Besides, you can hear that rig when it's empty a mile off on the ranch road. And I think you're neat!"
"Her hand caressed my back and I felt her hot breath on the back of my neck as she leaned down and kissed it. Well, you lose the reins on a running bronc, then there ain't much you can do except ride with it. I felt a jerk under the towel as my cock adapted to the situation.
"I turned around in the chair and brought her face down to mine, kissing her on her fragrant moist lips. A sweet tasting, teasing little tongue shot into my mouth, flicked around and withdrew. I held her and kissed her hard, not letting go until I felt her running out of breath.
"Wow!" she said when I released her and stood up. Her face flushed with pleasure when she looked at my body. The towel had a tent pole under it. "The flag is up1" she grinned, "Gentlemen, start your engines!"
"I kissed her again, pressing her against my body. Her breasts were like hard loaves of bread against my chest and she thrust her hips against my cock. The towel fell down and she stared down at my cock.
"You really are brown all over," she said. I had her flannel shirt half unbuttoned, desire now really beginning to roar around inside me. Cindy twirled out of my grasp with a sly grin, then took me by the hand and led me to a bedroom. I prayed that I would not hear the rattle of a stock truck on the old ranch road.
"The bedroom, like the rest of the house, was plain and simple. That it was Cindy's was evident by all the bottles, hair dryers and things. There was a nude shot of Burt Reynolds next to a dresser mirror. I plopped down on the quilted bedspread and watched Cindy undress. She took off the shirt, her eyes on mine, then undid her bra. Out spilled a couple of lovely tits with rosy little nipples, all erect and perky. She kicked off her moccasins and peeled off her jeans together with her panties. She had a lovely, slim figure with a trim and tight ass. The centers of her breasts and her pubic area shone with triangles of untanned white.
"What do you use for a bathing suit, Kleenex?" I asked.
"I went riding in it once," she said, jumping onto the bed beside me, "and you should have seen the old foreman from the spread next to ours. When he saw me he craned his neck so much that he drove his pickup right through a pasture fence!"
"She snuggled up to me cheerfully and in the embrace I forgot all about Hadley, Buzz, the hard miles I had covered and the San Juans I had to cross. She was warm and sensuous, wriggling her body as if trying to get into mine. My cock rubbed against her belly, already leaving a smeary track of lubricating juice. I ran my hands all over her, down her back, over the hard cheeks of that beautiful smooth ass of hers, between her thighs where I felt the rutting heat of her cunt.
"Your daddy know about this sort of thing?" I said.
"She kissed me on the mouth. "He's not blind," she said, "but since mama died a couple of years ago he sort of took it for granted that I was taking on an adult role on the place, so he just keeps his opinions to himself. We get along just fine." Her hand ran up and down on my cock, fingering the swollen head. She propped it up so it pointed at the ceiling. "Just like an ear of Iowa corn," she smiled, "is that what they mean by Chicano Power?"
"Yeah, and it tastes like chili peppers with refried beans."
"Mmmm! I love hot foods!" she said and bent down to put it into her mouth. I watched the head go slowly into her parted lips, vanishing inside her mouth. Once inside, it bulged against her cheek, slowly moving towards the back of her jaws and into her throat. More and more of the brown hunk of meat vanished between those distended pink lips of hers until her nose touched my pubic hair. I felt the heat of her mouth along the whole shaft, the gentle twirling of the entire length of her tongue. Just as slowly her head began to rise, exposing inch after inch of my now glistening wet cock. She took out all but the very tip, and this she probed with the point of her tongue, sticking into the hole and letting the lube smear around on her pursed lips. Then she blew on it gently, but since it was wet it felt like a blizzard. Immediately she alternated this with hot licks of her tongue, simultaneously jacking me off with her hand. My cock jerked with pleasure every time she stroked it with her tongue, so she began to do it faster, flicking it around the base of the head and running it down the vein on the underside all the way down to my balls. These too she did not forget. They, were drawn up tight up against my body, and she took each in turn into her mouth, caressing and rolling her tongue around it.
"Watching her mouth my cock made me want to get somehow more involved, so I reached out for that lovely trim body of hers. She knew exactly what she wanted, for at my first touch she shifted herself so that her cunt was right over my face. I rolled her over onto her back, and still keeping her head pinned down with my cock I spread her legs and lowered my face onto her cunt. Spreading the outer lips with my fingers I found myself looking into the pink, flower-like petals of the clitoris hood and inner lips. It looked like an awfully little cunt, a virginal, underdeveloped teenybopper of a cunt. But when the tip of my tongue touched it, it reacted like a seasoned campaigner. At the first touch she gave a moan and a jerk which rammed my nose right into the hot, moist and fleshy interior. Slowly I ran my tongue up and down between the inner and outer lips, probing with it now and then at the entrance to her vagina. She responded with pleased jerks of her hips and a tightening of her mouth around my cock. I then got my arms and shoulders between her legs, spreading them apart and up towards her chest. This tipped up her ass, and I had the pink little pussy with its blond whiskers exactly where I wanted it. I began to really ream her out now, drinking in the juice she was letting out of her. I twirled my tongue around the hood of the clitoris, poking with its tip for the clitoris itself and getting a muffled squeal out of Cindy every time I made contact with it. She loved it, her whole body began to twitch and her mouth gulped and sucked at me. I moved my hips, fucking into her face in rhythm to the flicks of my tongue over her cunt. When I felt her begin to jerk in spasms, I sucked in the inner lips, clitoris and all. Inside my mouth I made my tongue as compact and hard as possible and drove it between the lips against the clitoris, alternating this with powerful sucking, which in a few seconds caused her to gurgle on my cock and start coming into my face. Her thighs trembled and her now sloppy wet cunt plastered itself all over my face. In the heaves of her orgasm her hips jumped back and forth involuntarily, whipping her pussy over my nose, mouth and chin. She moaned and moaned as I sucked her viciously right through her entire orgasm. At last I felt her relax, then twitch a couple of times painfully, and I knew I had her finished for a while. Wiping my face on her thighs I looked down at her cock-filled face. It was flushed pink and spit and my juice was running out of the corners of her mouth down to her neck and ears. I could see her throat muscles work on milking my cock. I started to drive myself hard into her now, with long strokes that rammed my balls into her face. She sucked on gamely, and when she reached up and squeezed my balls, I felt the fire at the base of my cock surge forward and explode with a wave of jism inside her throat. She slurped and sucked faster, one hand squeezing my balls, the other poking a finger into my asshole. I pumped it all into her mouth, depositing a wad with every downstroke. She swallowed and coughed, and I saw some of it shoot out her nose.
"At last she drained me. My arms were trembling in that push-up position from the wonderful sensation which I felt through my whole body. Slowly I eased my greasy cock out of her mouth and fell on my back. Cindy turned around, lay down on me and came at me with an open mouth full of semen. She sealed my lips with hers, her eyes glazed, and slowly probed my mouth with her tongue. I could taste the bitter, salty, sticky substance that I had filled her mouth with.
"We lay there for some time resting, Cindy on my shoulder with a hand cupped around my balls. It had been so good. I wished that I could stay here in the bedroom, live on the ranch and have Cindy beside me like this. I could not bear the thought of once again saddling up and spending days and nights with a horse, dog and mule.
"After a while Cindy's hand crept up my cock, her fingers lazily squeezing and toying with the limp and soft head. She began to talk, telling me about how she had been laid four years ago the first time, when she was just thirteen. How she had an affair with a hand on the ranch, how she got to liking sex so much that she could get hot just staring at a guy's jeans. It wasn't what you'd expect from a girl on a rural ranch, I guess, but maybe that was what really caused it. The isolation and all. I listened with only one ear, because I was concentrating on what her playful little fingers were doing. They were giving me a hard on again, that's what. When my cock became rigid in her hand she looked up as if surprised. With a sly smile she made it all wet with spit and then straddled me, manipulating it into her cunt. She tickled herself with it for a minute, and then had it right up against her hole. The top of it vanished in her blonde pussy hairs and I felt the tight ring of the entrance to her vagina on it like a Stetson that's a bit too small. But Cindy wiggled her ass, holding my cock in place, and suddenly the head slipped in, the warm glow of her insides making it inflate even more, She let go of it and let the weight of her body and gravity do the rest. I was surprised how easily it slid in, considering the small-looking apparatus she had down there. But down she came and in it went, until her ass touched my balls and my cock rested up against her cervix. She gave a pleased little sigh, undid the ribbon holding her pony tail and let her hair spill all over her face, her eyes smiling as she looked down on me.
"Let's do it as if we meant to make a kid," she said, "I just want to feel full of you inside me!"
"I needed very little urging. The tight warmth encasing the length of my cock was enough. For a while she remained immobile on me, and then I felt a fantastic sensation. She was wiggling some kind of internal vaginal muscles. It felt like a gentle hand with the fingers milking my cock like a cow's udder. Jesus, I had never felt anything like it before. I made my back muscles tense and I shoved myself into her as far as I could go. Cindy began to rise up and down on me now, and I watched in fascination as my well greased glistening cock slid out then buried itself in that blonde snatch. I hardly had to do a thing, Cindy was delivering all the action. Her breasts bobbed as she increased her speed, and the rosettes around the nipples shriveled up while the nipples puckered up. I reached up and pinched them between my fingers, at the same time thrusting my hips up. Cindy leaned her head back, closed her eyes and smiled in pleasure. A little shiver ran through her body and I saw goose pimples on her arms. She picked a steady rhythm now, fucking me with a monotonous steady tempo which held me erect and eager but did not stimulate me to orgasm. She was clever, working herself up first so that I would not pop on her before she was ready. But when I let go of one breast and reached down between her legs, her whole body gave a jerk and she increased the speed of her bumps and grinds. My hand followed her body, my fingers stroking her clitoris, slowly but surely driving her up the walls. She began to breathe quickly, gasping now and again, her ass now pounding up and down on my cock like a jackhammer. I fucked into her now with hard thrusts that sent her rocking like a rodeo rider on a bareback bronc. Finally she couldn't keep her balance and leaned on her arms for support, her boobs dangling and dancing spectacularly above me. I pounded cock into her amid the squishing and popping of her wet cunt, and she started coming amid whines and cries of painful pleasure. At the same time I felt the searing wad of orgasm ripping up from somewhere around my asshole and I socked it into her with all my strength, my semen shooting deep within her. Cindy now let out a scream of animal pleasure and ground herself down onto my spurting cock, her ass wiggling from side to side as if she wanted to get my whole body inside her. My cock gave a few more violent jerks inside her and then I was drained, the room almost getting dark around me. There was a lull during which the only thing audible were our gasping breaths. Cindy's stomach heaved as she fought to regain her breath and I could feel my own heart fluttering inside me. She gave a couple of violent shivers and then collapsed with a sigh on top of me. My cock got small very slowly and it was a while before it finally slipped out of her.
"Carelessly we dozed off, and there would probably have been hell to pay if it hadn't been for old Sam. His barking woke me up and then I heard what got him riled. It was Cindy's daddy rattling down the road in the rig. You never saw a kid get his clothes out of the dryer and on him so fast. I barely had my shotguns buckled down when the screen door banged open and Sid Collins was standing there. Cindy gave him a nonchalant "Hi, Daddy!" and pretended to be busy at the sink. Old Sid gave her a squinty-eyed look and then glanced at me. Cindy had not tied up her hair, her shirt was out over her jeans, and it was plain she did not have her bra on. Sid shook his head and sighed, then handed me a newspaper.
"Boy, you better get saddled up. You made the Albuquerque papers," he said.
"He wasn't kidding, either. Right on page two. Horse thief, burglar. Armed. An old mug shot of me from some juvie files and a very long description of all my sins. Hadley outraged and offering reward. They even had figured out that I headed north.
"You done me a favor boy," Sid said with a glance at Cindy, "but before you do me any more around here I figure I'll pay you back. Get your stock together and we'll load em in the truck. I'll have you over the San Juans before dark."
Rick, the homeless, abused teen-ager of the present narrative, has living parents, but the almost total parental deprivation that is evident from his visible personality traits makes a sort of quasi-orphan of him. His father ran away, in his own time, leaving the boy in the care of a slatternly mother who-however involuntarily- deserted him not long afterwards for the Federal correctional institution in Louisville, where drug addicts are shipped for physical rehabilitation.
Thus it might be appropriate at this point to consider the predicament of the deprived child in order to determine the precise nature of the problems Rick has encountered and which have landed him in such a depressing situation.
Some of the effects of early maternal deprivation-and Rick seems to have suffered from this even when his mother was with him-inevitably result in inadequate social adjustment, neurosis and sometimes psychosis in the adult. When a child is deprived, as Rick was, of a warm, intimate and continuous relationship with his mother or with a permanent mother substitute, the negative effects of the deprivation depend to some extent on the degree of deprivation.
These varying effects are described by John Bowlby in Maternal Care and Mental Health.
Partial deprivation brings in its train acute anxiety, excessive need for love, powerful feelings of revenge, and arising from these last, guilt and depression. These emotions and drives are too great for the immature means of control and organization available to the young child (immature physiologically as well as psychologically). The consequent disturbance of psychic organization then leads to a variety of responses, often repetitive and cumulative, the end products of which are symptoms of neurosis and instability of character. Complete deprivation (which is still not uncommon in institutions, where the child often has no one person who cares for him in a personal way and with whom he may feel secure), has even more far-reaching effects on character development and may entirely cripple the capacity to make relationships.
The problems of the orphan child-into which category Rick fits without too much need for qualification of the term-include his experience of many of the devastating emotional upheavals familiar to adults who have experienced bereavement and grief (In a child the prolonged absence of the parent is equivalent to the death of the parent, for all practical purposes, and his reaction will be equivalent.)
In addition, depending on his age, he may or may not be able to clearly understand the source of these terrible feelings of deep loss. And even beyond his inevitable and temporary pain of bereavement, the orphaned child frequently feels a great deal of confusion regarding the circumstances surrounding his sudden deprivation. He may feel that he is somehow at fault, that his parents have left him, abandoned him, for cause -have deserted him deliberately due to some shortcoming on his part, some failure of his own to be a worthy child. In this common response we see the roots of deep-seated feelings of inferiority, guilt and insecurity that plague many adults. Another possible reaction on the child's part might be a tremendous sense of anger and rage at the parents who have left him alone before he is ready to be alone. The child who is enraged-and to some extent we see this phenomenon in Rick, hidden and repressed even from his own view though it may be-stands a better chance in the long run of coming to terms with his grief and deprivation. Without expert guidance, however, such a child will often turn into an aggressive, hostile adult. It is a tribute to Rick's essentially healthy mind that he copes as well as he does with the demanding, hostile adult environment in which he finds himself.
His exact problem is pinpointed more precisely thus: the child whose deprivation problem comes to a head at an age when he is older and can to some extent understand what is happening to him often makes the attempt to avoid the feelings and cover up his emotions in order to avoid the terrible pain. When an older child is orphaned, and refuses to experience the traumatic pain of the event, he often lays the groundwork for future personality disorder in the repression of his natural feelings, which manifest themselves in the distorted symptoms of neurotic adjustment.
Obviously, at this crucial point, the best thing that could happen to the child would be the appearance of an adequate parental surrogate, an individual or couple to whom he might transfer his dependency needs; a person from whom he can replenish his store of self-esteem and well-being, to whom he can communicate his natural feelings with some hope of being understood. Parent substitutes can provide such a child with a focus for his negative feelings and a source of security and affection which are most crucial during the time he is making an adjustment to his loss.
In the nineteenth century and in the earlier part of the twentieth, the large extended family provided many persons who could assume this role for a suddenly bereaved child. There were aunts, uncles, grandparents, even older cousins who might provide the orphaned child with some hope of emotional stability during the remainder of his childhood.
The situation has been drastically altered in the modern world. Leontine Young in Wednesday's Children describes some of the changes which have taken place in the family, making the care of such children even more awkward and difficult than ever before.
In the modern world a change has occurred in the structure and obligations of the family that has brought long-range implications for everyone. Many of the great integrating forces of the past have become casualties of industrial society. The extended family which belonged to an agricultural economy provided more than an answer to the baby-sitter problem. The group of culturally determined relatives that made up the whole family unit provided the past, present and future for its members. Like the old Chinese family that might have four or even five generations living under one roof, it was a symbol of human continuity, the meaning and purpose for the individual. What it sacrificed in individual freedom it compensated for in security. So long as the family unit functioned a mother was not left without support, a father without secure care for his home, the children without relatives to provide them with care and security. The family was social security, protection of children, aid to the aged, the civic club, the family life education, the life insurance.
What a far cry from the present, when families are more and more fragmented every year and when marriage itself is called into question as a viable institution! From all visible signs one is forced to conclude that the survival of the family unit is at least in doubt, if not completely threatened with extinction.
"Sid was as good as his word. He took me over the San Juans through Del Norte and South Fork, the least traveled of the passes. It's a rough old road for a big rig like his, but he felt that once on the other side I'd have a better chance of not being spotted.
"It was pretty late in the afternoon by the time we negotiated Spring Creek Pass and then the final one, Slumgullion Pass. On the other side there's a wide place in the road called Lake City, and it was shortly past that Sid unloaded us.
"You just work your way down due north, boy," he told me, "that'll bring you down into the Blue Mesa country. Work your way around Uncompahgre Peak, that's the big one on the left here, and if you just head west through the valleys and ask the right questions, you ought to get to Utah in a few weeks."
"I thanked him and we shook hands. I liked the man, but not half as much as his daughter. Sure hated leaving.
"That night I camped under the stars again, about half way down around Uncompahgre. It was cold as hell, and in the morning there was frost on my sleeping bag. Mountains being what they are, the sun had us sweating soon after breakfast and by noon I was roasting. We covered a lot of ground that day and didn't run into a single soul, so I stopped worrying about that news story about me.
"A couple of days went by like this. Nothing but the open sky, bird song, the steady plod of Buzz and Judy and the routine of setting up and breaking camp. From the road map I had figured that I would soon cross Highway 550 south of Montrose. I'd head due west for the Dolores River and see if I could follow it on into Utah.
"I finally did cross the highway and that was a sort of a boundary I crossed over, although I didn't realize it at the time. That same evening I found a very fine spot for camp, with good grazing for the animals. I even got lucky and popped off a rabbit for Sam with my .22, so there was a good feed all around. Although there was a dirt track of a road not too far from where I camped, I didn't pay much attention because the area looked like it was old rangeland that hadn't seen any traffic for a hell of a long time.
"In the morning I awoke with a start, because Sam was growling almost in my ear. Sitting up I glanced around and saw that both Buzz and Judy were not far away grazing. But they were not alone. A pickup was standing on that dirt road. One of those ranch jobs that always seems to have a bale of hay in the back and a rackful of guns behind the seat in the cab. Two guys in straws and jeans were getting out of the truck and looking at the gelding and mule. I still didn't think much about it. I even quieted down Sam who was beginning to sound mean. But then I see one of the guys reach into the cab and bring out a lead rope. Christ, Buzz and Judy were hobbled, so anyone could tell that their owner was around somewhere. Did those guys really mean to try and rustle them?
"Hey, you can put back that rope!" I yelled, "that stock's just fine right where it's at!"
"The guys peered in my direction, squinting into the morning sun. I stood up, hands on my hips to let them see me.
"Sure enough, the guy with the rope goes back to the cab and gets rid of it. Only he now comes out with a goddam rifle.
"Come on over here, kid!" he yells, pointing the thing at me, "You're trespassing, and I figure that's stolen stock!"
"Christ, what was I to do? I glanced over to where my saddle lay, the .30-06 sticking out of the boot. Did they know who I was from the newspaper? Had they recognized Buzz from the description? I didn't know what to do, but the cowpoke with the gun made up my mind for me. The bark on the tree beside me exploded into trash and a ricochet whined off somewhere. The echo from the shot rolled back and forth and the horse and mule sat up almost like rabbits. I yelled, "Go sick' em, Sam!" and dove for my saddle. In a swoop I yanked out the rifle and rolled away, another shot thudded into one of the saddle bags. I pumped in a round and aimed. The guy with the rifle was aiming my way, the other running to the cab to get his gun. I fired aiming at the feet of the first. The round kicked up a pile of dust and rock and he jumped behind some sagebrush. I lobbed another round into the windshield of the truck and the other guy forgot all about arming himself. He started running like hell through the sagebrush, and the first guy jumps up to follow, only Sam got at him first, tearing out a nice part of his jeans. He dropped the rifle, kicked Sam off and hightailed it after his friend. I sent them on their way with another couple of rounds, then shot out two tires to slow them down a little once they got back to the truck. Whistling up good old Sam I saddled up and packed and we were soon on our way.
"To tell the truth, after the first shock of fear, I felt pretty proud and pleased with myself. It had been something like from a Western movie, but just like in the movies, nobody got hurt. I mean just some torn jeans and a bit of sand in the eyes. You can get that in ten seconds from a sour-assed bronc, if not worse.
"So, whistling to myself and feeling like John Wayne, I rode on west. In this rough country I was soon beyond tracking and out of sight of my morning visitors, whoever they were. By nightfall I found some rural highway and on it one of those small greasy spoon restaurants doubling up as a general store.
"Out in back were a couple of dilapidated empty corrals and a battered old pick up truck. A sign identified the whole slum as "Zodie's Cafe and Country Store."
"Tying up Buzz and Judy to one of the corral fences, I went into the cafe. It was dimly lit by some small lamps with plastic yellow shades and smelled of frying oil. There were a couple of aluminum and plastic tables and a counter with red stools, most of them needing an upholstery job. No one was around at first, so I read all the little notices around the cash register, most of them making clear that Zodie gave no credit and cashed no checks. Finally a woman comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a filthy apron. She was well stacked, to put it mildly. She had tits like melons, and the rest of her was put together to match. Dark hair, quick, darting dark eyes and a big-lipped sensuous mouth. I figured her in the mid-thirties.
"Howdy, what can I do you for?" she says with a real twang in her voice.
"I got some animals with me, ma'm," I said, politely giving my hat a yank, "I was wondering if I could maybe put them up for the night in those empty corrals out yonder."
"This ain't a livery stable, though it might look like it," she said in a snotty sort of way.
"I'd sure appreciate it," I said, "it's just a horse and old mule and we've come a long way."
"That the horse or the mule?" she pointed at Sam, who had come in with me and was sniffing the kitchen smells with his mouth drooling. "You sure do tote a zoo around with you, don't you? What's your name?"
"Sid Collins," I said the first thing that popped into my mind.
"Sure a funny name for a guy that looks like Speedy Gonzales. You got any money to pay for all this room and board you're asking for?"
"I still had about twenty bucks on me, but that was for emergencies. "I'd be glad to do any chores you might need, ma'm. Place looks like it could use a hand."
"Oh, stop that ma'am shit! Even if you are just a kid you don't need to make me any older than I am. Chores? Hell, yes! I could use five of you working ten hours a day for ten days before I'd get this place straightened up. Take off your hat!" I did so and she gave me a careful once over, from head to toe. A sly grin comes over her face, "Yeah, I bet you could do some chores for me! Tell you what, little cowpoke, go get those animals of yours fixed up and come back so we can talk about it. Hey, by the way, I got some hamburger that's kind of turned. Think that mutt of yours can eat it?"
"Ma'am, he'd eat it even if it was walking off in five directions!"
"Told you about that ma'am shit! Name's Zodie!"
"I grinned and tipped my hat. I liked her. A real hard nosed bitch, but with a good heart under it all. I put up Buzz and Judy, graining them with what I had in the pack and putting out a couple buckets of water for them. Sam had cleaned up the bad hamburger by the time I got back and was belching and farting under a table. Zodie made me a hamburger and it was so lousy I wondered if she made a mistake and fed me Sam's. She also plunked down a can of beer and when I drained it, another. While I guzzled it down, washing away the taste of the greasy meat, soggy bun and wilted vegetables, she rattled on about the place and herself. Seems her husband was a Viet Nam vet who never got over being scared of gooks. Used to see them everywhere. Also had some smack problems, which he finally changed for grapes and religion. One day he loaded up their car with a bunch of wine jugs, got the Bible and announced he was off in search of the love of Jesus. That had been two years ago and she'd been stuck on the place ever since.
"After a while she pops a bottle of Bourbon onto the counter and pours us each a Bourbon and-water. No ice.
"Might as well make ourselves comfy," she says and pulls down all the blinds and locks the door. That's when I thought I knew what I would be in for. Didn't mind at all. After all, balling beats doing chores.
"I'm not too good on hard liquor. Anything except beer kind of sends me into another world in a hurry. So a couple of those warm Bourbon-and-waters and she had herself a puppet on a string. Before I knew it we were in the back rooms of the cafe where she lived, both naked and on a squeaking bed. When I got my first look at her I almost laughed, as much from the booze as from the sight. I said before that she was stacked, but when those melons floated out into the open it looked as if someone had just inflated some water wings. Great big things, with dark nipples the size of bottle corks. Her ass looked like two pillows jammed together and her pubic hair was a mat that you'd need a machete to hack through.
"But I really don't mean to knock it. It was just the first sight. I soon found out that a guy can really get pretty wild with a woman built like that. All that acreage of flesh, those hills and valleys, it's like a fucking national park. You can just wallow in it, and everywhere you turn there is a part of Zodie coming at you in a pink avalanche.
"Jesus!" she said when she saw my erect cock, "You're hung like that horse of yours!" She grabbed it and jacked me off as I lay on my back, her eyes glued to it. "I haven't had a good cock so long that I can't remember it! This damn place is in the middle of nowhere, and the one guy who'd come by regular had one you could slip a wedding ring on." And with that she opened that big mouth of hers and sank down over my cock. It just vanished inside her face, and for a minute I thought she had swallowed it, balls and all.
"Fuck me from the back!" she said after a few sucks, "You got enough to really slip it to me!" and with a heave and roll of tits she rolled over, spreading her legs. I mounted her from the rear, fascinated by the large butt staring at me. She moved the muscles of her ass, and I swear that it winked at me. When I slid in it was going down a greased kid's slide. I could feel the ripples in the wall of her vagina as I plunged in, but there was no getting to the end of it. I think she could have handled a horse in there. But it was springy and tight, and when she closed her legs with me inside her I knew I was going to be in for one hell of a fucking. This was no little Cindy with her juvenile cunt and dainty, if horny, body. I had me a real piece of woman here, and she knew what she wanted.
"Almost immediately after I got inside her she starts twitching her ass and tightening her buttocks around my cock. I got my feet well braced against the back of the bed and started to wham it to her. Pretty soon I felt sweat on my brow and on my belly as it wetly slapped against her butt, but Zodie didn't slow down for a second. "Give it to me!" she once said, "Give to me hard! Faster!"
"I did my best. The booze helped, because after I drink it takes me much longer to come, so I had plenty to give her. By now her frantic butt was jerking up and down convulsively, and those cheeks grabbed at my cock as if afraid it would get away. On every stroke I rammed it in all the way to my balls, and the squishing and popping, mixed with her groans and the protests of the bed, made for some fearful sounds in the night.
"Now, you got to remember that I had been in the saddle for days, and, on that particular day, from dawn to dusk. It's not the worst thing in the world, but it does kind of wear you down a bit. And from the looks of this Zodie would let me pump her until you could put a wedding finger around my cock too. Sweat was pouring into my eyes and the end of her butt was just a sea of foam into which my cock ripped in and out. I finally reached around under her, flopping down onto her heaving body and grabbed a hold of her cunt with both bands. I spread the wet lips as far apart as I could, feeling the hard pole of my cock thrusting back and forth inside her, then I took hold of her clit between two fingers and just squeezed and yanked hell out of it. Zodie gave out a great belching roar and nearly bucked me off, but I held on as if this meant the championship ride in Madison Square Garden. She screamed, tore at the sheets and shook her head back and forth in a kind of wild frenzy, her ass bucking under me so hard I thought the bed would break. She yelled: "Cock! I've got cock! Jesus, I got cock! Thank you Jesus!" all the way through her orgasm. Then when she felt me suck in my breath and steel myself for my own discharge, she slipped around with amazing speed and in one second was jacking me off into her face, yelling: "Eat! Let me eat! In the mouth!"
"That's where it went, all right. The whole load. She slobbered and wallowed in it getting her face all soaked with the crap that was all over my groin from her cunt. I shot through those wet fingers of hers right into her mouth, excited by the wild way she was sucking and licking at me. She even took it out when I had a few squirts left in me and rubbed it back and forth over her face, her eyes closed as if in a trance, the jism smearing a real cream makeup all over her cheeks, mouth and chin.
"When I was through I just collapsed onto the bed on my stomach, barely able to breathe. Zodie murmured something and began to lick the sweat off my back. She licked my arms, arm pits, the shoulder blades, the sides. Then she worked down to my waist and on past. Her tongue covered every inch of my ass, finally slithering down between the cheeks and right up my asshole. This went on until she worked herself down to the soles of my feet and only ended when she sucked off every toe. Man, I didn't need a bath anymore.
"Later she tried to get me to drink again, but I knew I'd puke if I tasted that warm booze again, so I only had one beer. She sat on the bed next to me, her huge tits above my face and sipping her booze talked to me not caring whether I listened or not.
"That's about the best I've had," she said, "old Vance, that's that no good son of a bitch husband of mine that went and ran off, well he never had it in him to hold out that long. Most of the time I had to finish myself off. And that guy with the little cock, well who could feel what he was up to? "Bout the only one as good as you was this Indian. I mean I don't go for Indians at all. But I had been so horny when this red fucker came along. A hippie, sort of. Said he was Young Deer and lived inside the Grand Canyon. A real weirdo, but God, was he hung! I went mad for his cock for two days and nights. But finally I threw his ass back out on the highway. I didn't like the fact he never shot inside me. And the things he would yell, all kinds of crap like: "White goddam blue eyed bitch! Alia time wanna fuck Indian! Shit! Piss! Me no give seed white man squaw! Me dump seed on ground! Indian ground, great spirit give back for Indian seed! No more white eyes fuck Indian1" and all the while he'd be jumping off me and jerking himself off onto the floor. He hosed everything down, the rugs, furniture, everything except me ... hey, you listening?"
"I was but just barely. Seeing I was about to drift off, Zodie turned on a small screen TV. I don't know if she meant to entertain me with it or else had just given up on me, but when that set came on I sat up as if a snake had gotten under my blanket.
" ... medium height, dark complexion but with blue eyes," an announcer was droning, "wearing a straw Stetson, sheepskin coat, blue jeans with tan shotgun chaps. He is riding a chestnut gelding with an H.R. brand and is leading a black pack mule. A collie or similar type dog is probably with him and should be approached with care. Santos is well armed, and after the most recent unprovoked attack on the two Montrose citizens, should be considered dangerous. We repeat, an all points bulletin has been issued by the state police for Rick Santos, wanted for burglary, rustling and now assault with a deadly weapon. Last seen near Highway 550 about midway between Montrose and Ridgeway and believed to be heading west ... " I shut off the set just as my old juvie mug shot flashed on the screen. Glancing at Zodie I thought I caught her looking at me intensely, but then she just looked bored
"Who wants to listen to the news?" I said, trying to sound as bored as she looked.
"That night I slept badly, but at least I slept. All that riding and fucking had taken its toll, and the warm soft Zodie beside me soon soothed my nerves. But I dreamt a lot of horeshit and woke up at dawn in a cold sweat. After feeding Buzz and Judy I spent all morning trying to figure out what to do. They had an APB out on me as if I was some goddam bank robber! And with my outfit I stood out like a sore thumb. Now everybody would be checking every poor bastard on a horse with a mule in tow. I did not see how the hell I would be able to get as far as the Utah Canyon-lands without being spotted.
"In the end I decided to lay low for a couple of days, rest up Buzz and Judy and then make a break for it, riding only at night and camping in cover during the day. I thought with a little luck I could make it to the Utah line in about ten days.
"When I asked Zodie if I could stay on a few days to rest the stock and give her a hand, she looked at me in a strange way and only nodded.
"Well, chores, hell. I did no chores at all, I just fucked my brains out. Zodie was going to get her money's worth, there was no doubt about it from the first day. I had never thought it possible for two people to go on fucking so much. I didn't know anyone could last so long. She was at me from the minute I woke up. In the morning she wanted it from the back, while she still half slept. It would take her forever to come and I would be plowing away desperately wanting her to finally come so I could feed Buzz and Judy.
"After breakfast she wanted to blow me. Anywhere. Bedroom, kitchen, the corral, even in the middle of the restaurant with only a screen door between the outside world and her on her knees in front of me, eyes glazed and mouth full of cock.
"By noon we were in the sack with a 'closed' sign on the door. Then she would ball with real gusto, sitting on me or else on her back with her ass coyly propped up on some pillows. Middle of the afternoon she'd give me a look and I knew that she was hungry for a little meat in her mouth again. And in the evenings? Figure it out. A fifth of Bourbon every night and I lose five pounds in sweat and semen.
"And she racked me up pretty bad in all this. She was never a calm fuck. It was always all violence and passion, without regard for pain, hers or mine.
"I remember when one time I had her down under me and I was ramming cock to her. Her face started getting all distorted when she began to come. Eyes shut, teeth grinding in a horrible grin and spittle drooling out from between her lips. When she had her first convulsion she sank her fingernails into the small of my back, raked me up to the shoulder, and came back down again with all the force she had. I screamed bloody murder, but that just made her bury those nails in my butt and thrust me up and down on her cunt as if I were a dummy or a little toy. When she was through I had blood flowing off my back onto the sheets and ten purple blue holes in my ass. It was a couple of days before I could comfortably wear a shirt, lean back in a chair or sit down without wincing.
"She'd get carried away cocksucking too. Habitually she'd fingerfuck herself while blowing me and after a while I developed a skill in beating her to the come. If I let her get herself off while I was still in her mouth I risked emasculation. She'd try to grind her teeth with me still in there! Once she gave me such a bite that her teethmarks were on me long after we parted company. So I developed this method that the minute she'd take my cock in her mouth, I'd grab the back of her head and fuck away as quickly as I could, shooting the semen down her throat the second I was ready. Sometimes I'd be pulling out of her, limp but whole, just seconds before her mouth would close like a steel trap, the jism flowing down her chin and strands of it extending out to my cock.
"When she began to leave the cafe closed all day and started to do nothing but fuck and swig Bourbon from what seemed a year's supply, I began to get a creepy feeling. I also began to have second thoughts about her husband. Christ, if that was what the poor bastard came home to, then after a couple of weeks I bet he wished himself back amid the rice paddies with nothing more demanding than not letting Charlie get him. No wonder he went to look for the love of Jesus. It must be a calmer thing than this volcano that Zodie had between her legs.
"I decided to move on. Not wanting to spring it on her too suddenly, I thought I'd give her a really good lay towards evening, and, when she was pretty boozed up, head out for the hills. So I gave her one of her all time favorites, banging her with her on her back with those pillows under her ass. She came like a string of firecrackers and raked up the old scabs on my back, but I didn't let out a whimper. As an additional treat I came in this weird way that she liked so much. I straddled her and did it between her tits. Zodie held them together with her hands, playing with her nipples, while I sank my cock into the warm, soft globes, submerging it fully in the flesh. She got a charge out of seeing the head of my cock keep shooting in and out at the top of her breasts. She stared at it as if hypnotized by a snake, and would get all smiling and dreamy when I started to shoot. Sticky ropes of the white stuff would squirt out and hit her lips and chin, although most of it would go on her neck. When I was through she licked my cock clean and looked up at me like a little girl that's done something nice and wants some praise for it.
"This time I told her it was great, just as I always did, but then I got up and started dressing.
"Where the hell you off to?" she said, "I thought you already fed those dumb animals of yours."
"Sure did, Zodie. But it's time for me to be moving on. You've been awfully kind to me, but I'll be wearing out my welcome if I hang around any longer."
"I thought she was going to shit. Christ, she tried everything to get me to stay. She cried, she yelled, pulled at my clothes and even made the supreme sacrifice of smashing her bottle of Bourbon against a wall. But I just got dressed and got my gear together and headed for the door. Tried to give her a goodbye kiss, but that seemed about as wise as sticking your head in a lion's cage.
"I got Buzz saddled and Judy packed and was about to mount up when I realized that I had forgotten my gloves in the house. I went back in just in time to hear Zodie's voice on the phone talking through tears of rage: "Sure I'm sure it's Rick Santos! I saw it on TV. You get your cops moving and you can grab him before he gets ten yards ... that's right, Zodie's cafe, five miles west of ..."
"I didn't stop to hear the rest. Just grabbed my gloves and in a minute I had the whole outfit moving out at a canter. There were a few acres of pasture in the back of the cafe and then a stand of timber. I lit out like a bat out of hell and reached the dark night shadows of the trees just as I heard distant sirens approaching the cafe behind me.
"It was all downhill from then on. I pushed us hard that night and on into the day, wanting to get as much distance between me and Zodie's as I could. About midmorning I was on a sheep range. You could tell by their dropping, the smell and the closely cropped grass. Sam was loping ahead and went over a rise. I heard a distant 'pop' and by the time I topped the rise it was too late. Sam lay dead a few yards from a coyote-getter. That cyanide gas works fast. His beautiful coat shone in the sun, the long hair of his mane and tail moving in the wind.
"I didn't even have time to bury him. After a while that same day I got into pretty rough country, so I knew I had better make camp, rest Buzz and Judy, and travel next day. It was just too easy to break your neck or a horse's leg on a dark night in terrain where there are no trails.
"The next day was full of disaster. I had been in the saddle only a couple of hours when I spotted some distant vehicles. The cross-country kind with big antennas. They were all the same color so I knew they must be cops. They seemed to be looking my way through field glasses. I was on a flat valley floor at the time and I spotted a steep switch back trail leading up a sandstone cliff out of the valley. It was my only chance, since not even a motorcycle would make it up there. But I was half way into the cliff face when something worse than motorcycles showed up. A helicopter. One of those bubble jobs with two guys in them. They buzzed the cliff and circled, scaring hell out of the horse and mule. A loudspeaker blared something at me but I could not hear more than the word 'down' above the engine noise. I continued up so the chopper started making passes to within just yards of me, raising clouds of dust and panicking Judy to the point she tore lose her lead rope, tried to turn around on the foot-wide trail, lost her balance under her pack and went somersaulting down the cliff, pieces of equipment and I guess also of poor Judy bouncing off the rocks. The chopper came at me again, and I thought I and Buzz would be next. So I did the only thing I could to save us. I got out my .22 pistol and holding the reins in my teeth and the pistol with both hands, emptied a clip at the damn thing. I must have hit something, because the tail of the chopper started spinning around the bubble like mad and it went down to the valley floor, landing in a big cloud of dust. I saw two guys get out and run, then the machine burst into gorgeous flames. I got to the top of the cliff without further trouble. On top was a grassy mesa, leading to mountains covered with sheltering timber. Also two police jeeps with four cops, their guns drawn and one of them with a ready pair of handcuffs in his hands."
Rick's very strength, at a time when he should not have had to display such adult coherence and fortitude, is a source of weakness, exposing him as it does to the neurosis and hostility that his hostile environment has generated. Obviously he needs, not incarceration and punishment, but extensive psychotherapy if he is to take his eventual place in society.
CHAPTER FOUR: Cindy's Come to Stay
"The apartment was hot and musty, and under that was the slightest hint of paint, as if the walls had been given their newest coat before the other coats had quite dried. But it was a faded smell now, more a smell of age and sickness and death, as if hasty repairs had been made to cover old mistakes, and the new tenants sensed them and made new mistakes. "You mean she's come to stay?" the woman's voice grated in the next room, and I wondered if I was the newest mistake. "She's crazy! And you're crazy, too. Even this is better than jail!"
"I wondered if I was crazy, like Marlene said. I'd been called that before, but those other times my so-called 'genius' had explained it all away. Only this time no one was calling me anything but crazy. No saving grace at all. I wondered, then, how it might feel to be sane, if what I was insane. But Marlene was calling Jack insane, too, and if that's what he was, then all the men I'd known were also crazy, because his sickness was the word I'd once read and loved on the spot-lust.
"Jack lusted for me. That's the way I'd write it, if I was a writer. He did, too, and he wasn't the only one. I liked that, because somehow it brought my body right up there along with my oh-so-mature mind, and together we could lust for each other. Alone. But that doesn't make much sense, I suppose.
"Maybe it would make more if I started at the start. If there is such a thing. We'll start with me. I'm thirteen. Almost. Next month, but they don't know it. They think I'm sixteen, almost. I look it, if you don't look too closely. I have a big-girl expression in my patchwork multicolor eyes, and my brown hair is long and well-cut and ageless. I have a full, 'kissable' mouth, a nice long swan's neck, and a body which is definitely in the over-thirteen bracket. I wouldn't be able to buy cigarettes or a drink-I wouldn't want you to think I didn't have a realistic image of myself-but you would not want me to play with your thirteen-year-old son, either. Your eighteen-year-old maybe, if he had never looked at a girl and you were beginning to get worried.
"I have an older sister, and Fritzie was mother, father, sister and playmate to me. She was not brilliant, yet she had everything. She had a dozen years on me, a husband, a house, a car, a houseful of friends at all times, and, most of all, a body which attracted and tempted many men. Oh, she was not a tramp. No, my sister knew how to get the most out of anything. No, she was faithful to her husband. Faithful Fritzie, ever loving, ever loyal. But he was not. Her husband Chuck was my first lover ...
"My parents couldn't tolerate me. Call it a personality-power clash, if you will. From the time I was two, I enjoyed running little games on them. I'd like to see how easily I could make them and every time they did as I knew were going to, I'd laugh and laugh. By the time I was seven I was able to make them jump at a word, and by nine I was moved into Fritzie's house, and it was understood that my life with the folks was over. So be it. Groovy.
"Now back to the sex part. I have this thinking thing, see. Like I'm always thinking, always spinning those wheels, and sometimes it's more than I can stand. Then Chuck came home a little drunk one night when I was eleven, and it happened to be a night when Fritzie was out somewhere, and before she came home I had learned how to make those damn wheels stop moving ... He was not terrible. Don't think of some big, hairy rapist attacking a little girl. Oh, no. I was wanting to be touched, to feel, to be felt, to be involved, long before he saw me naked in my room that night.
"The thing he never knew about that night is how I heard him come in and posed naked by the open door as he came up the stairs. I pretended that I didn't hear him arrive home, but I did. I wanted to smile at his look of surprise and then, yes, lust, as he checked out my small but maturing figure. Oh, yes, it was the body of a young girl, but even then I knew with a knowing that came with my desire, I just knew that I could get him to want me.
"It was helpful that he had had too much to drink. Most helpful. I stared up at him with a tempting innocence which asked how long it had been since he had tasted untouched, young flesh, and his body answered never, never this young, never this untouched, and I opened my arms, unfolding my virgin wings-the mind hadn't stopped yet-and he stepped into them, to think forever after that it was all his idea, every bit of it, and he could enjoy a belch of guilt with each memory of that first time.
"He was beginning the feast then, and there was only the doing and none of the remembering. His hands closed over each of my little breasts, clothing them with flesh, growing excited by the touch and the heat and the thought. My blurred flat nipples caught fire and bristled at the touch, and they ached sweetly and wanted much more. His belly was flat against mine, and his clothing was scratchy and not as nice as his flesh would be, arid knowing this, he undressed. It was as if time had no part in our play, and Fritzie didn't exist, and afterwards could never happen to us. We kissed and touched and loved, and his tongue was a devil trying to get me from the inside, and I found I, too, had a little devil, and he came out to play. Chuck's hand was urgent on my child cunt, but I was less a child in moments, and he grew less gentle. Then his mouth somehow found that aching, changing sex spot, and he was kissing, licking, using his mouth, oh, God, his mouth! And I felt the mind-wheels bog down in the muck of that pleasure, slow and catch and finally stop, and I was free at last, and all I knew was joy ...
"He licked me completely, from the creamy little mound to the quivering cheeks of my bottom, and he kept tonguing some magic place that made me twitch all over. It was all happening under the rosy lens of my mindless feeling, and all I could do was whisper up at him, like a cracked record, "Oh, you're licking me all over! You're licking me all over!"
"How he picked the moment to stop his tongue witchery and crawl over my heated flesh I do not know or care, but somehow it was the right one, the best one. I had no conscious recollection of curiosity over his sexual equipment, his cock, but I felt it snake between my thighs, and that was enough. I opened my petals and let him enter me, and I felt the pain and I let it wash over me, and when it was gone I felt the pleasure, and I bathed in that more slowly. But then there was such a lot of it.
"Oh, my God, Cindy ... " he groaned like the cowboys in the death scene, "I'm into your tight little cunt!"
"He said it like it was a miracle, and it was, and he pushed in and out of me, and on every stroke I felt I would burst and I didn't care, and I felt I would die of happiness, and that was all right, too.
"Chuck fucked me like it was his art, that first time, and I guess it was. He used his prick like a magic wand, stroking me places I never knew had to be stroked. It was ecstatic and sweet and frantic, all at once, and when he finally recoiled his entire being and spat the fury of his seed into me, I hugged him tightly, loving him for the marvelous moment.
"I didn't come the first seven times we fucked. That happened within a month, because after that, every chance Chuck could, he managed to get me alone. It was never quite the same, though, because he knew he was going to and the first time it just happened. He didn't look into my eyes any more, but still it was good, and I was happy.
"As time passed I let more and more boys and men share those moments with me. Oh, I don't mean an army of them, but once Chuck got me those pills I take every day, well, I felt free to go find a stranger who would take me somewhere. It was fine, and I really felt odd moments of total happiness.
"It would not have been so bad if things had kept on as they were for a few more years. But Chuck began to watch me like a hawk. He wanted to know everywhere I went and who I was with, and why he hadn't been able to locate me when he called. He suspected-he knew!-I wasn't the faithful thing Fritzie was, and it drove him insane, knowing I might be in another man's bed at any given moment. Once, to tease him, I hitched a ride with a man when I was on my way to meet Chuck, and I persuaded the man to fuck me quickly in the back seat of his car. Then, when Chuck jammed his tongue into me, he knew what I'd done, and it was difficult to hide my amusement at his rage.
"It wasn't funny any too long, though, because that unfunny man decided he was wildly in love with me and couldn't live without me. Yes, there was a sense of joy at the victory, but I didn't want to take him from my sister. Fritzie loved me! I mean real love. She didn't even want anything from me. So I knew I would have to go away.
"Knowing how hurt, worried and upset Fritzie would be, I left a note about secretly getting a job far away and I promised to send her the money I took from her jar over the refrigerator. I left when everyone was asleep, and I had no plan. I knew that, if I didn't go, soon Chuck would go to Fritzie and tell her, and it would all be over. Gone, Chuck would soon forget me and concentrate on his wife, and I wanted to send a tear for my noble sacrifice, especially when I saw how cold and dark it was outside.
"I really did feel a little uneasy, and more like not-quite-thirteen than ever in my life. But I took a bus to the next town, then worked my way over to the railroad station, and I bought a ticket to the nearest big city from a disinterested ticket agent who must have known I was a runaway.
"The next week was a dream-reality, and it ran together in such a way that it was like a movie spliced together by a madman. I kept wondering what to do, and meeting men who had definite ideas about what to do, and we kept doing them. I ate and I slept and I saw the city, and I found myself at the outskirts of the city one cold evening when the haze cleared.
"I sat at a little outside table hot-dog stand, nursing a cup of coffee I had bought because it was warm. I held the cup under my chin and used the steam to heat my face, and I felt alone and frightened, and although I still had a few dollars, I had nowhere to go.
"The juke-box inside started to play, and the sound poured onto the little terrace where I sat hugging my coffee. Then the guy who sold me my coffee came out with the pot in his hand and started refilling my cup. My hands trembled a little as the welcome heat warmed the ceramic cup, and I smiled up at him gratefully.
"Cold out, huh?" His lips curved but his eyes were intense.
I nodded.
"Don't you have anywhere to go?" he asked shrewdly, resting the pot on the wooden table top. He was somewhere in his thirties, and was sort of ugly, in a crude, prize-fighter way, an ugliness which also made him very attractive and masculine.
"I decided to risk it. "Nope."
"He sat down, then got up and went back for a cup for himself. Meanwhile I downed as much of the bitter coffee as I could, letting it burn my frozen insides. He came back, poured coffee for both of us, and took a sip. He lit a cigarette. "You in some kind of trouble?"
"It was too funny. It was like being in some kind of a movie. I decided to play it that way. "Yeah. I'm trying to find a place to stay. I had a big fight with my boyfriend, and I ripped off some change from his wallet so I could split. I think he called the man on me. And now I'm running out of bread." I gave myself an instant replay and decided to give myself an 'A' on acting but a 'C-minus' on story.
"The guy seemed to be considering my performance, too. Then he smiled. "I'm Jack." He winked.
"My name's Cindy. Hi, Jack."
"Hi, Cindy. You wanna go inside where it's warm? You can sit back there while I clean up this dump. It won't take long."
"I nodded and let him carry my coffee cup inside. It was so cozy and warm in there that I even accepted a hot butterscotch sundae from Jack. After I was finished I went into the little back room to help Jack with something. That little something turned out to be a great big crazy hard on.
"I returned his tongue-filled kisses and dropped my hand to his fly. It was there, all right, and I unzipped him and started playing with it even before he touched me anywhere. Oh, it was good, and I wondered what it would be like to taste it covered with butterscotch sauce, and then I remembered that I was still tasting butterscotch from the sundae, so I bent over and began to suck on him.
"His cock was long and thick and it had a great big hard-candy head on it, and I forgot about the butterscotch as I sucked and licked. It was a good hot, sweaty taste, and I felt myself go all warm and wet inside as I gloved it with my smooth-walled mouth. I liked the way he grabbed handfuls of my hair and called me a sweet little cocksucker, and I liked the way he began to feel me all over, under and over my clothing, and finally I was that mindless fuck doll again, and words tumbled out of my mouth, and I asked him to please, please fuck me, but I didn't really mind when he forced me back on his cock and shot a mouthful of come into my sucking mouth.
"By the time we left the little back room Jack was bug-eyed with the wild suck I'd given him, and I was all juicy and ready for more. "How the fuck old are you, honey?" he mumbled, and when he heard my lie, he looked uncertain.
"Jack seemed a little dazed as he closed down the store. "I'm taking you home to my old lady. She'll give you a decent meal and you can get some sleep." He must have seen the look on my face. "Don't sweat it. She's a good chick. Has to be told off every so often, but she's a good momma. She'll love that cute little twat of yours, Cindy."
"Curious, I got into his car and we drove to the ancient apartment near the stand. Marlene met us at the door. She was tall and big breasted, with glossy long hair and a pretty, though slightly hard face. She didn't look at all happy to see me, but I felt perfectly comfortable. The rest was their problem.
"Jack was the law in that household, and I'd heard the word 'masochism' at the same time I'd read about lust, and I spotted and pinned Marlene at once. It was with the same knowing I had about everything to do with sex. I could see it in those big beautiful eyes of hers, and in the way Jack was with her, and in the way she looked at me. "Get her some food," Jack ordered, pushing her toward the stove.
"Who is she?" Her voice was husky and sexy, even with all the hostility.
"A new cunt! What the hell do you care who she is! Get the food!" He glared at her but I could tell he wasn't annoyed in the least. It was like an act they were doing, but I could also sense a hot something between them, an excitement, as if they'd done this thing before or something much like it, and everything they did was a part of a larger thing which somehow ended up in ecstasy for both. It was just a feeling, but I wanted to watch it all come together as I knew it would.
"What do we want with a new chick? A kid! Beat it, sister. Go find a little boy somewhere to play house with!" Marlene stood over me, her arms crossed over those enormous tits of hers.
"I calmly reached up and squeezed her breasts. "They're real, huh?"
"Jack began to laugh. He laughed so hard tears came spilling out of the corners of his eyes. But Marlene didn't think it was so funny. She began to scream and curse at me, and she didn't stop until Jack, still laughing, got up, come over to her, and smacked her hard across her face.
"The woman gasped and touched her cheek, and a warm flush spread over her face. Her eyes glittered hotly and I felt a little thrill of pleasure at my own perceptiveness-the lady dug it!
"I was still hot all over from sucking Jack off and not getting anything in return. Now the sickly stinking apartment had a new smell, and I breathed in deeply the sudden hint of sexual desire in the room.
"Now get the food, Marlene. Then we'll relax and have some fun." Jack said softly.
"My mouth was dry and it was an effort to speak. I licked my bottom lip. "I'm not all that red-hot hungry."
"You already had a little something, huh?" Jack asked, looking at me, grinning, remembering. "Well, I want some of that good food you toss together, Marlene, so give me a little and I'll give you a lot."
"I watched Marlene begin to prepare a cheesy macaroni plate, and I knew I needed to rest a little. "Wake me when you're done," I yawned, heading for an open door which showed a corner of a bed in the next room.
"The bed was rumpled and the sheets held last night's sweat and soil, but it was warm and cozy and people-smelling, and I was instantly asleep.
"I awoke to Marlene's complaining voice. I heard a distant hissing of a heater, and I kicked off the blankets and couldn't imagine I'd been so cold only an hour earlier.
"Marlene was goading Jack, telling him about his mistake in bringing me home, and I listened to her building and building towards trouble, and I recalled the surprising sensuality of her desire to be put down.
"It didn't take long for Jack to react, I heard the sharp crack of his hand and Marlene's gasp, and then I stepped into the other room. Marlene was touching her cheek and Jack was feeling her tits, and both kind of smiled at me. They wanted to use the bedroom, so we went in there.
"I knew I was in for something a little different this time ... "
Cindy, the present subject, is an entirely different order of business from the other runaway children encountered in this study. Their problems were largely precipitated by older people, in a world which their immature emotional equipment proved inadequate to handle. Hers-to speak on the immediate level, at any rate-is at least partly of her own making.
Cindy can be described by a word coined by Vladimir Nabokov in his tragi-comic novel Lolita: she is a "nymphet." Nabokov's famous study of pedophilia contains one aspect which the protagonist, Humbert Humbert, keeps harping upon in his defense (he is on trial for sex offenses against his stepdaughter, a pre-teen-aged girl):
I had thought (Humbert pleads) that months, perhaps years, would elapse before I dared to reveal myself to Delores Haze; but by six she was wide awake, and by six fifteen we were technically lovers. I am going to tell you something very strange: it was she who seduced me.
Nabokov's novel-banned in many place's in its time-became an international bestseller. It also became such a byword in the upper-middle-class circles where psychiatric terms are bandied about (whether accurately or not) that some psychiatrists and science writers cite the novel as an interesting reference in popular articles on pedophilia and juvenile delinquency. One might, without being obscure in any way, refer to pedophilia as a sort of 'Humbert syndrome' and to gerontophilia (its mirror opposite) as a "Lolita syndrome." Howard Whitman has this to say of the book in The Sex Age:
A review in Time magazine said of Lolita, "As an exploration of the secret places of the heart, mind and spirit, ruled by terrible private devils, it moves beyond shock into compassion." One might add that it is as illuminating a fictional study of pedophilia as has seen the light of print in recent years.
Reviewers of the novel were moved to compassion not only by the terrible events depicted therein, but, probably, also by the very subject matter of the book. This becomes quite understandable when the statistics of pedophilia are examined apart from those who are arrested as molesters. In the foreword to the book, John Ray, Jr., makes the following observations:
... H.H.'s impassioned confession is a tempest in a test tube; that at least 12% of American adult males-a "conservative" estimate according to Dr. Blanche Schwartz-mann (verbal communication)-enjoy yearly, in one way or another, the special experience H.H, describes with such despair; that had our demented diarist gone, in the fatal summer of 1947, to a competent psycho-pathologist, there would have been no disaster; but then, neither would there have been this book.
The same is evidently true of European countries as well. Children in France, if one is to believe the philosopher Simone de Beauvoir, are often subjected to overt or covert caresses from older members of their own families, the memory of which they retain despite the predictable post-Victorian "hush-up" operation.
She discusses this in The Second Sex:
Then, too, even a well-protected maidenhood is exposed to more specific experiences; in "well-bred" circles silence is maintained with one accord concerning these regrettable incidents. But very often some of the caressed of family friends, uncles and cousins, not to mention grandfathers and fathers, are much less inoffensive than the mother imagines ... Stekel regards grandfathers, among others, as often very dangerous ...
Such incidents are usually unmentioned by the little girl because of shame. Besides, if she tells her parents, their reaction is often to scold her: "Don't say such things" (or) "You are naughty."
Although it may appear that the child does not actively resist such advances, indeed may even encourage them, the law is explicit in these cases because the responsibility must lie with the adult. It is assumed that the offender has capitalized on the child's innocence, curiosity, fear of the adult, sexual precocity, and undeveloped inhibitions. Aside from the psychological damage that may result, there is also the real danger of pregnancy in the child who has reached puberty.
Medical science has not achieved a coherent consensus on the subject of pedophilia. Exhibit A (Sigmund Freud):
Whereas those sexual inverts whose sexual object does not belong to the normally adapted sex, appear to the observer as a collective number of perhaps otherwise normal individuals, the cases who choose immature sexual objects (children) apparently represent from the beginning sporadic aberrations. Only exceptionally are children taken as exclusive sexual objects. They are mostly drawn into this role if a faint-hearted and impotent individual happens to be in contact with such substitutes, or if an impulsive urge (uncontrollable at the time) cannot secure the proper object.
Exhibit B (James Melvin Reinhardt, in his book Sex Perversions and Sex Crimes):
Pedophiles are extremely dangerous, for among them are not only sadistic rapists and murderers, but they are by nature cruel de-spoilers of the morals of children where no serious physical injury is inflicted ...
Unfortunately for the bumbling Humberts of this world, the second viewpoint prevails in the criminal courts everywhere.
"Jack told Marlene to look at me. "Isn't she a little doll? Look at her, momma. Isn't that the prettiest little doll?"
"Marlene went into her prettiest pout, and she looked me over carefully.
"She really knows how to suck cock, too. She gave me some of the wildest head I ever got at the stand. I'm gonna let her suck on it again. And you're gonna get to watch."
"If Marlene's bottom lip was out any further she'd trip over it. "Let me do it for you, Jack. You know how nice I can do it."
"He just laughed. "Take her clothing off, Marlene. Get her naked so I can see that pretty little body of hers."
"I was afraid she'd hit me, she looked so menacing as she came over to me. Instead she began to remove my clothing.
"Squeeze her tits while she gets you undressed, Cindy. Like you did out there. I got a kick out of watching that."
"Though I'd never touched another female that way before, I'd liked it before and was happy to do as he suggested. They were so big and yet firm and springy, and I liked feeling them over her dress so well I dipped my hands under her low neckline and grabbed all I could hold of her naked tits.
"Squeeze them hard, honey. Make them hurt a little. That's the way she likes them. Make her moan some." Jack had unzipped his pants and his dick was out there stiff and as straight as my arm.
"Excited, I began to really tighten my fingers over those huge mounds of pink and cream flesh. I liked handling them roughly, and I felt a big charge go through me as she began to moan and close her eyes. She had me nearly naked then, and I helped her get my panties off. Then, naked, I gave those boobs of hers a really hard squeeze, and she whined a little in mock protest.
"Then Jack and Marlene stripped down, and the three of us got on the bed. Jack thrust a hand between each of our thighs, and he got busy sucking on my nipples. He seemed crazy about the difference between mine and Marlene's, and then he told Marlene to suck one of mine while he worked on the other.
"It felt so fine, having two mouths on my tits, and I found myself staring hungrily at Marlene's trembling pair. Inspired, I grabbed one and pulled it to my mouth. The nipple was like a fleshy spike, and it filled my mouth like a tiny cock. That started me wondering what her clit would be like, but then the pleasure of licking and sucking my first tit took over, and that bothersome little mind of mine went back to sleep.
"Jack's hand played between my legs, and when he found my clit I bit down on Marlene's nipple, nearly cutting into it with my sharp little teeth. But Marlene only moaned hotter than before, and I took several nips at it while Jack teased my clit.
"He knew how to use his hands, and I slid happily into a long, hard come just as soon as he added an up-and-back stroke to my cunt hole to his tickling of my clit. After it was over I made him pull away, and I stopped sucking her tit.
"Little Cindy comes fast. If a finger can do that, what can I do with my tongue?"
"For answer I spread my legs and stretched out on the bed. I love getting my pussy sucked.
"Jack stared down between my legs. "Eat that, Marlene, baby. Get that cunt-sucking mouth of yours down there and lap it up. I want to watch."
"I could tell from the thick look on Marlene's face that she wasn't against the idea. But it was like a cue, his ordering her to eat me, and she went into her number. "I will not!"
"Get that stupid face of yours down there and start licking cunt, or you ain't gonna have any ass left after I start kicking it!" Jack grabbed her hair and pulled it painfully, forcing her face to my pussy. I could see that he was really hurting her, but I didn't bother feeling any pity. She was loving it.
"Her soft mouth bumped my pussy, and then she was gingerly darting a tongue into me, and then it was all over. She began to suck and lick and lap at me like she loved sucking cunt better than anything in the world, and that bitch had me coming inside of two minutes! I pushed her wet, creamy face away and moaned weakly.
"Oh, do I want to fuck that sweet little cunt of yours, Cindy," Jack breathed, pushing his woman aside and pulling me to him. He just fell down on top of my body and started running the knob of his dick up and down my slit until it just naturally began to nose into the dimpled opening to my womb.
"Marlene watched with very big eyes as her man slowly began to push in and out of me. I found myself looking up and into her eyes, and as the feeling built from his cock inside me, I kept looking up at her. It was a strange power game, and our eyes locked tightly as our bodies were in some strange way fucking, myself and Marlene, if only through her closeness to Jack. Finally Marlene broke the connection and came over to me. Ignoring her man who was still fucking me slowly and deeply, Marlene fastened her mouth to mine and ran her tongue in and out of my mouth. It was like being fucked in two places at once, and I began to move my ass like crazy, because I knew I was going to come. Jack picked up the message and that, along with his excitement from all that had gone before and the wild French kissing Marlene was doing now, was all he needed to join me. I was digging my fingers into his back and clutching his hips with my legs, and his prick was a blur as it thundered in and out of me ... and we both came at the exact same moment.
"As soon as he was off me Marlene fastened her mouth to my cunt and quickly sucked me dry. She worked her own fingers over her pussy, and within a minute she, too, had finished. I fell asleep almost immediately.
"That was far from the end of it, however. They were a wild pair, and if I were crazy outside of bed, they were madmen once there. Between the two of them I was easily fucked and sucked a half-dozen times, including the time I woke up to find Marlene pushing a candle into my cunt. Finally, well into the next day, we managed to get some sleep.
"I woke up feeling as if I were in the bottom of a well and there was no way up. I fought against opening my eyes and when I finally did, I couldn't remember where I was, or who the two people in bed with me were.
"It all came, back to me soon enough, though, and I squirmed my way out of the bed and hurried to the bathroom. I ached in a thousand places, and yet I felt fine, alive and slightly lightheaded, and more than a little fulfilled.
"By the time I got back to the bedroom Jack and Marlene were up and smoking and talking. "There," Jack said, grinning, "is my entry in the Miss Naked and Fuckable Teen-age America contest."
"He moved over and made room for me. "That's what I like. Lucky Pierre, right in the middle. That's me."
"Marlene put out her cigarette and even managed to give me a frosty nod, as if to acknowledge the fact that she'd been licking my pussy all night long. "I don't think she'll do it for you, Jack. She might be a nice fuck, but I don't think she will."
"The act was starting again. I could feel it. Her words were supposed to put me on the defensive and have me frothing at the mouth to do whatever they wanted me to do.
"Jack ran his fingers over my cheek and chin. "Sure she will. She's part of our family now, huh, Cindy? She wants what's good for all of us."
"I decided to play along. "Sure. What do you want me to do?" I tried to look bright and ready to prove myself.
"Jack shrugged and stamped out his cigarette, nearly catching the bed on fire. "I want us three to take off for Florida. Where it's nice and warm. But I owe these two dudes a favor, see? So I'm running the stand for them, and that leaves us here for a couple more months. I was just telling Marlene that I bet I could pull a swap with those guys. Both of them are queer for young stuff. Young girls, like yourself. But they don't have the balls to try to find any young pussy themselves. So I was thinking, if you were willing to show those guys a good time for a couple hours, that would square me with them, and we could split for Florida right away. Would you like to go to Florida?"
"I gave the whole bit a quick thinking over. I didn't think the favor part was true, but maybe they were short some money for the trip to Florida, and maybe they knew the men would pay them to have sex with a young chick. "What are they like?"
"Marlene continued to look hostile, but Jack grinned. "Atta girl! They ain't bad guys, and they ain't bad looking, either. They're just a little pussy-whipped by their wives, you know what I mean? I like me a woman who doesn't pull that shit." He threw back the blankets and exposed Marlene's naked butt which he slapped hard. "A chick who knows what the score is." He put an arm around me. "Now you're a different story. You're a smart little cookie, and I think we're gonna have a lot of fun together." From the look in his eye I had the feeling he was thinking of all the rich dudes down in Florida.
"I spent the rest of the day in the apartment alone with Marlene. She interested me. I wanted to know what made her tick. For one thing, though she'd been all over my cunt the night before, once we were alone she acted as if I wasn't even there. Because I was more curious than anything else, I even walked into the room naked after my shower, and I kind of gave the busty woman a definite come-on. I might just as well have been a housefly. She didn't even answer me unless I asked a direct question.
"By late evening I was more than bored. I'd begun to ask myself what I was doing, and why, and if I even wanted to go to Florida. I got myself all depressed finally, especially when I began to realize there was nothing for me to do, not until I was a little older, at least. I couldn't find some place that looked okay, get a job, find a place to live and be done with it. I was years too young. I'd never get a job. I couldn't go back to Fritzie and Chuck, and the world was looking damn big.
"About the time when I was ready to go jump off a bridge, Jack came back. He looked happy. We had a very good dinner fixed by the ever chatty Marlene, and then Jack got down to business. He handed me a piece of paper attached to a key, and told me it was to a motel room. I'll drop you off at the motel and come back for you later. Jeff will show about eight and Larry around ten. I'll be there by twelve, and then we'll take off. This time tomorrow we'll be lazying around those nice white beaches with all those big guys." He smiled significantly at Marlene, and said, "Yes, sir, we'll be gone before you know it." and I knew instantly that Marlene and Jack were going to Florida, but that I was going to be cooling my heels outside the door of a motel somewhere, waiting for a ride that would never come. Instantly it made perfect sense. After all, they didn't dare take me across the State line. There were big laws about that.
"I thought about just telling them to go to hell, but then I decided to keep those dates. After all, what else did I have to do, and sex had a way of cheering me up, no matter what.
"The motel was much nicer than I'd expected, so I figured Jeff and Larry were big spenders. I decided that the last I'd see of Jack would be outside that motel door after Jeff left and when Larry was on his way in. He'd collect the last fee and take off. From the big sexy kiss he gave me I was sure Jack would have loved to take me along. But he was the type who had to play it safe.
"I got undressed as soon as I got inside the motel. I left the door unlocked, but I lowered the lamps until it gave off a rosy glow all over the room. There was a radio so I found a quarter and put on some music. I began to dance around naked, and then I began playing a part. I was a woman of the world, and I was waiting to go to bed with a man I hated, a man I had to convince I loved. I was trying to figure out why when the door opened and a man stepped quickly into the room.
"He was younger than I'd expected, and he really was handsome, in a shy sort of way. I wasn't what he expected, not totally naked and ready, anyway.
"That was when the game changed completely. I was an experienced prostitute who knew how to handle shy tricks. I remembered reading about it in that book of Chuck's I'd found. "Hi! I'm Cindy. You must be Jeff. As you can see, I've been waiting for you."
"I locked my eyes with his and urged him over to the bed while I got on it myself. Take your clothing off," I urged.
"Jeff kept looking at me, his eyes eating up my body. I stretched out and moved a little, and soon he thawed and began to undress. I watched him and felt a sharp excitement in spite of all the sex I'd had so recently. Jeff was good looking, and his cock, half-hard, was big and very pink, and it hung from a golden nest of hairs above his swaying red balls.
"Unlike any whore I'd read about, I felt the excitement growing as he got into the bed next to me. A little smile played at the corner of his mouth. "I don't know, I kind of thought that we'd talk first or something."
"I didn't know if he was kidding or not, but now his dick was very hard and we didn't need words for that. He kissed me instead. His body felt warm and smelled clean and faintly alcoholic, as if he'd taken a drink recently, like in his car before stepping into the room.
"He didn't need the drink. He didn't need anything. As soon as he took me into his arms it was right. Perfect. He went wild over my body and I loved the way he kissed me all over, and I was happy to do the same thing to him. I liked his clean young body and the way he kept coming back to my mouth after every kiss on my body. He had a way of touching his lips to my flesh that was a knowingness learned from understanding a girl's body, rather than from experience. He tongued my nipples slowly and ran a finger into me only to move away from my cunt and nipples in favor of the insides of my arms and the small of my back.
"Finally we were lying across each other in a full sixty-nine position, and then we began to eat each other without games or pretense. His dick fit perfectly into my mouth, and whatever he was doing to my pussy had me so hot I nearly came on the spot. He was sucking it lightly while flicking his tongue up and back across the clit.
"He pushed a finger into me, too, and I responded by tickling his asshole with mine, I could tell he liked it, so I began to push it in a little. He kept licking and sucking and fingering me all the while, and soon we were so hot and so into it that I knew we would have to quit or it would be all over. And I didn't want it to be over.
"Without either of us mentioning Larry or time limits or anything, we were both feeling the pressure, and it got into the way of our enjoyment of each other. I felt really comfortable with Jeff, and I didn't want him to shoot off inside me and then rush away, and I didn't want to wait around and play whore to the other guy Jack had fixed me up with, either.
"When it was time to cut out the mouth stuff and get down to some real fucking, Jeff pulled away. "Look, I know this is crazy-but I've been called crazy all my life and I don't really care ... "
"Me, too," I interrupted. Then I shut up, because I wanted him to finish what he was saying.
"Anyway, I don't want to just make it and go home. Listen, I'm not married and I don't live with anyone. I go to the college in town and I work part-time. I'd love you to come to my place. I'd love to have you stay at my place, if you wanted to. Move in, I mean. You probably think I'm an idiot, but I figure if I don't say what I mean I'll never find anyone who wants the same thing."
"I couldn't believe it. But it was obvious he meant it. I thought of Jack and Marlene, who were practically on their way to Florida without me, and of Chuck and Fritzie, and I looked up at Jeff who was waiting patiently, "We'll have to sneak out of this place. There's another guy who's supposed to be along soon."
"Jeff patted his still-hard cock and got out of the bed. As he picked up his clothing he threw me mine, and giggling like little kids, we began to get dressed. To go home.
"It was funny, but I never expected to find happiness when I ran away from home ... "
Cindy only narrowly averts the beginnings of a life of overt prostitution in the course of her peregrinations; yet favorable comment might be premature. Her relationship with Jeff is dependent and without adequate sanctions in civil law against her further mistreatment. The intervention of the juvenile authorities might be advantageous at this point.
CHAPTER FIVE: The New Houseboy
"Every little once in a while I hear some dame talking about how she just can't understand why Connie or Joey or Ronnie or Amy ran off and left such a good home. I guess that's what they are saying about me, too, but I don't give a damn.
"I can just hear my old lady telling people, "Billy was such a good boy and he always got everything that he wanted and I just can't understand why he would quit high school and run off like that. I just don't understand."
"Maybe if Rene told my mother the things that she said she was going to tell her, maybe then my old lady would understand right off.
"Rene was telling me that she was pregnant and I had to marry her and she knew that that kind of talk was a little stupid. I was not quite sixteen years old.
"I had some dough saved up and I simply took off for sunny California and that was that. I was sure that Rene was not pregnant. She just wanted a guy to boss around and she figured that if she told me I had juiced her, made her hot, then I would have to do what she said. She was that kind of a mind.
"I suppose it was my own fault. Rene was the kid next door and she was only a couple of years younger than I am, but she was stacked, really built. She has a set of boobs that can make a guy's mouth water and his cock stand up and start leaking right away. She was real glad to fool around when I suggested that we could have some fun together.
"My folks were working all the time and her folks were too so it was easy to spend a lot of time with Rene. She liked to sit around the house with her miniskirt hiked up around her ears and she knew that I was always trying to see her slit.
"So, this one morning she was at my place and she was sitting in one of the big chairs and I was trying to look up her dress and she just opened up her legs and let me look at her and she had pants on but they were sheer and I could see everything. Just to make sure that could she reached down and pulled them off. Then she wanted to look at my crotch and I let her and she started playing with my cock and my balls and she began jerking me off and when I was ready to shoot I tried to stop her but she wouldn't be stopped.
"I want to see it spit," she said.
"A moment later she saw it spit, all right. It shot all over her and she just didn't seem to mind. She kept on jerking me off like she was never going to stop. Her hand was holding me too tightly and it hurt. She just didn't care. She had a funny look on her face and I was sure that I was going to have to hit her to make her let go. But, I didn't.
"She let me go and she looked up at me with a big smile on her face and she was sure happy then. She told me that she thought I had a very nice cock and she liked playing with it and we could have lots of fun fooling around afterwards.
"It got so that was all that she wanted to do. She would want me to come to her house or she would come to mine and we were supposed to be going steady. She said that that meant that we could do anything to each other that we wanted to and that was all right by me.
"She liked to fuck, but she got so that she liked to suck mostly. She liked me to eat her little slit and suck her for hours and she would do the same for me. But, once in a while she would want everything and we would have us a real orgy. Boy, I sure liked that, all right and so did she.
"Then she started with the business about being pregnant and talking about what she was going to tell my folks and I finally decided the hell with it. I was going to take off.
"I got to admit that maybe it wasn't just Rene. I was not making it in school anyway, and my folks didn't really give a damn about me, they had their own problems.
"I had some money saved up, nearly two hundred, and I figured that should be enough to take me to California. I had talked to some of the kids and they all said that California was the place to be. You could eat oranges right off of the trees and if you didn't have a pad to crash in you could lie right down anywhere and sleep.
"Boy, did all of that stuff turn out to be a crock.
"Well anyway, I took off on a Monday morning when I was supposed to be in school. By the time it dawned on my folks that I wasn't going to be there for supper, I was hundreds of miles away. And I was finding out about what people are like.
"I got lots of rides and it was usually with a guy who would start fooling around as soon as I got settled in the car. Always, the guy would want to park someplace and suck me off. I got so I expected the guy to reach for my crotch and I didn't mind what they did. I sort of liked it.
"There was this one guy wanted me to do him and I did it. He promised to give me ten dollars when he let me out but he just dropped me and took off before I got the chance to ask for the money. Oh, there were lots and lots of guys that were willing to pick up hitchhikers. About three out of ten just wanted to talk to somebody. The others wanted to fool around.
"I met Nancy in California. She picked me up early in the morning and I could see that she was real pretty and really stacked. Stacked. She had a big, slow smile that kind of sparkled and her eyes were big and blue and sort of interested in whatever they were looking at. She had long blonde hair that hung straight down and lots of goop on her eyes and she was really pretty.
"She had a very pretty convertible and she was on her way back to her house, she said. She had driven into town for something and she was using the freeway to make it home in a hurry. She asked me if I had eaten breakfast and I said no. I had slept behind a billboard, trying to keep from freezing, and when she asked me if I would like her to take me home with her and feed me I was sure willing. I was starved.
"You could do with a shower, too, you know," she said, with her nice slow smile.
"There was no doubt about that. I was really ripe and I guess she could smell me. She said that she would take me home with her and feed me and let me clean up and she would give me some clean clothes and then we would see. She asked if I had any money and I was just about broke. I had spent all of my dough and she just nodded and her smile seemed to sparkle a little brighter and she put her hand on my leg and she patted it.
"You just stick with me, Billy," she said. "I think you will like what I've got in mind."
"She seemed to be very young. I found out later on that she was twenty-three but she looked to be about fifteen. Maybe that was because she had nice pointy boobs and real horny legs and she was built even nicer than Rene.
"She lived in a big house that had a wall around it and gates and she let me get out and close the gates after we got the car inside. I heard the gates lock electrically as soon as I closed them. We drove on up to her house and it was really a big place.
"She put the car in the garage and we went inside the house and she took me on a tour of the place right away. I guess it was a tour, but we wound up in her big bedroom. She sat down in a fancy chair and she was smiling at me. She lit a cigarette that she took from a tray on the table near her and then she crooked her finger at me. I went over to stand closer to her.
"Billy," she said, "you need a bath and I am going to give you one. Come along with me."
"She stood up and there was a big bathroom like part of the bedroom and it was all pretty pale green tile and mirrors and she started the water running into the tub. Then she gave me a big, slow smile.
"Take all of your clothes off, Billy," she said. "I want to examine you closely and make sure that you didn't pick up any lice while you've been on the road. Hurry now."
"She made me feel real funny and I knew that I was not going to take my clothes off in front of her. She saw the way I was holding back and that seemed to please her.
"Now, Billy," she said softly, "I am accustomed to being obeyed in my own house. Now, do as I tell you to do. I shall always insist upon obedience from you, Billy, if you are going to stay here with me for a while."
"That shook me up, I can tell you."
"I'm not staying," I told her, "I only wanted something to eat and then I am going to get on my way again. I got to get into L.A."
"She bent over and adjusted the water tap and then she straightened up. She hauled off and slapped my face with a blow so hard it almost knocked me down. Then she hit the other side of my face and she seemed to be enjoying it. There was a funny look on her face and her eyes had a crazy look in them and I was suddenly scared and real willing to do anything that she told me to do.
"I have decided to keep you here with me for a while, Billy," she said. "I need a houseboy and I think that you will be a very nice houseboy, but, you must remember, I insist upon being obeyed. You will remember that, won't you, Billy?"
"There were tears on my face and she seemed to like seeing them. She touched my face with her fingertips and she wiped the tears away. She began unbuttoning my shirt and I stood still and let her do it.
"You are a very nice looking young boy," she said. "And you can be quite happy here. Now, you wouldn't want me to tell the police that I picked you up in my car and you asked me to bring you home and give you some food and then you attacked me and raped me and left me for dead while you tried to run off with a lot of money that you stole from me. You wouldn't want me to tell such things to the police, would you?"
"No, Ma'am," I said. I was crying and I guess it was from nerves. This was all new to me. And frightening. She got a real mean look on her face and I was sure that she hated me, but I wasn't giving her any trouble so she shouldn't have been so displeased with me.
"She got my shirt off and then she unbuckled my belt and she pushed my pants down and my shorts, too, and when she stood there looking at my cock I could see that she sure liked looking at it. She reached for it and her warm little hand cupped my balls and her big smile glowed. Her other hand wrapped itself around my cock and she began jerking me off, slow and easy like.
"Why, Billy," she said, licking her lips, "you have a lovely cock and nice big balls. Oh, I just know that I will love having you for my house-boy. You do want to be my houseboy, don't you?"
"She was rubbing her thumb on the hole in my cock and her hands were making me crazy and I just nodded my head. I wasn't able to think about anything. She let my cock go and then she put her palm against my cock and she rubbed her hand downwards and I was shaking like a maniac. She laughed and it was a soft, warm sound in her throat. I was circumcised and she said that she was glad about that. She took a wash rag from the sink and she got it wet. Then she put it under the running bathwater and when it was good and wet she began washing my privates. She started asking me about my experiences with girls and I was in no shape to talk about anything.
"She sat down on the toilet and it had the lid closed. She put her hands on my bottom and she pulled me close to her. She put her mouth over my cock and she started licking it with her tongue and she was using her hand to jerk me off, too, and all of a sudden I started to come and she was so pretty I was afraid to come in her mouth and I tried to back away but she pulled me closer and my cock slid way down her throat and then I was coming and she was sucking and licking like crazy and I knew somehow that I had pleased her. She was really very happy and I could see that when she took her mouth off of my cock and she looked up at me.
"Now get into the tub, Billy," she said. "I will want you to be very clean from now on. You see, a houseboy is expected to please his mistress in every possible way. Did you know that, Billy?"
"I shook my head and she just smiled sort of dreamy like.
"It doesn't matter. You'll learn. You will learn many things but I'm sure that you will be glad to stay with me."
"She really gave me a bath. She knelt beside the tub and she washed my hair with all kinds of funny soaps and lotions, and then she scrubbed me clean. She insisted that she was going to shave my crotch and get rid of all of the hair there so she could make sure I hadn't picked up any crabs. That's what she said, anyway. I could see myself in the mirrors and I looked funny around my balls but I just didn't care. When she was sure that I was as clean as possible, she let me get out of the tub and I stood there while she dried me off and then she told me to follow her into the bedroom.
"She pulled the bed covers down and then she got out a couple of big towels. She told me to lie on them and she dusted powder all over me, front and back. She knew that I was lying there with an enormous hard on but she ignored it. She kept rubbing her hands all over me and she was sort of smiling to herself and she had just grabbed my balls and was powdering them when her telephone rang. She was humming as she fooled around with me and she picked up the phone beside the bed and it sounded like one of her girl friends.
"Her friend must have asked her what she was doing because she told her. She said that she had picked up a very good looking young boy on the highway, a runaway, and she was going to keep him and enjoy him. She had just finished bathing him and now she was going to begin enjoying her houseboy.
"Her friend must have asked if she could meet me because Nancy laughed and said no way.
"Carol, dear," she said, "I remember when you and Paul got Sheila. You didn't want to share for weeks. So, let me enjoy myself for a while. I'll call you when I want company."
"She talked a little more about me and then she hung up. She seemed to be in a very happy mood and she bent over and kissed me on the mouth and I could see the tops of her boobs and I knew from what I could see under her dress that she had a real set of beauts. She kissed me nice and then she was running her tongue around my lips and then she put it into my mouth just like Rene did.
"I am going to begin training you to please me, Billy," she said softly. "But, you must remember to obey me always. If you were to be disobedient at a crucial moment, for instance. I would punish you so severely you might never get over it."
"She meant it. I could see that she meant it and I was not going to give her any trouble, believe me.
"She began licking her lips while she was handling my dong and my balls and I guess that she just couldn't wait. She put her face down there and then she was licking my balls and my asshole and holding on to my cock and then she put it into her mouth and she started giving me head and each downward stroke of her head made it go deeper and deeper into her throat and I was sure that she was going to gag but she didn't. She even pushed it way down so that her lips were against my bare skin and that was a crazy feeling. She was tonguing it and licking it and sucking it and she had one hand in my balls and when she shoved a couple of fingers into my asshole I began to squeal and roll and bounce around and she jiggled the base of my cock with her fingers and then I was gushing and it hurt so bad I almost screamed. It hurt nice, really nice, and I guess she knew that I was liking it because she just kept right on doing it. She got another batch out of me and then she lifted her head up and she was glassy-eyed and her face looked like it was put together with strings.
"She was breathing heavy and struggling for wind and finally she reached for one of the cigarettes from the tray and once she sucked some smoke into her lungs she was okay. She kissed me right on the lips and she smiled.
"I just know that I am going to be so pleased with you, Billy," she said. "Now, tell the truth, you don't really want to go away and leave me, do you?"
"I shook my head and she laughed. "
"I will shop for you, Billy," she said, standing up. "And I will buy you some very nice things, but I'll have to rummage around for now and find you something to wear. If I know Carol, she and Paul and Sheila will be over here. Any minute. She will just have to have a look at you."
"I thought that the clothes I had been wearing were pretty much okay, but Nancy said that she was going to burn them. She got out a shirt for me from her own things and a pair of shorts and then I began to look all right.
"We went downstairs and she told me that I could watch the color TV in the living room for a while. She said that she was going to fix us an early lunch. She knew that I was hungry and I guess that she was, too.
"I snooped, looking at the things that were lying around. I knew that she was single and her folks had left her a lot of money, and I knew too that she didn't like guys much. That was pretty plain right from the start.
"She had lots of magazines and pamphlets lying around and they were all stuff about women's liberation and that kind of stuff which pretty much explained the way she was about guys.
"She fixed some sandwiches and she said that we would have our lunch on the patio out by the pool. I helped her carry the stuff out there and we sat down and were eating when a bell rang inside the house. Nancy laughed and said that her friends were at the gate, just like she figured they would be.
"She went inside and pushed a button and the electric gates opened and a few minutes later her friends walked out onto the patio and joined us for some coffee.
"There were three of them and they looked like a nice young couple with a pretty young girl along. The girl, Carol, was a redhead with big green eyes and she was really built with the nice white skin that redheads have. Paul, her husband, was blonde and not tall, not short. He was very mild mannered and really sort of wishy-washy, I guess. He shook hands with me when Nancy introduced me to them as her new houseboy.
"Carol introduced me to Sheila and I liked her. She was a real beauty, about fourteen, and built nice. Her eyes were big and round and gentle and her smile was sort of bashful and not too sure of itself. She had long straight hair, kind of dirty blonde, and she was wearing shorts and a halter. I could see that her boobs looked like big lemons cut in half and her legs were really something to see. Carol was wearing capri pants and a sweater and she had a real set of knockers that showed up under the sweater all right.
"Sheila is a runaway, too," Carol told me. "We found her and took her home and now she lives with us. She has made us very happy."
"Nancy laughed out loud at that. "Sure," she said, "your pretty little Sheila is a nymphet. Why wouldn't she make you happy."
"Carol sat down and she lit a cigarette. Paul was standing by the edge of the pool and Sheila was standing near Carol, looking at me with a soft, nice look in her eyes.
"Carol said, "We could think about sharing, Nancy, dear, think it over. Just think of all the fun we could have watching our two runaways enjoying each other. Oh, there are so many possibilities available to us. Do consider it."
"I think I was shivering as I got the drift of what they were talking about. I liked Sheila and I knew that she was a little mouse and I sure could imagine some grand times with her.
"Nancy did not think too much of that idea. She had a sullen look on her face and she seemed to be a little sore.
"Give me a week," she said. "Just one lousy week and after that I will be open to suggestions. All right?"
"Carol laughed and she nodded. "We'll die of impatience, my dear," she said, "but, of course, we will expect you to be as generous with your lovely possessions as we have been in the past with you."
"You can count on that," Nancy said.
"Sheila kept on looking at me and I kept looking at her and Carol thought that our interest in each other was cute. Paul walked over and sat down and Nancy offered them some lunch but they just wanted some coffee. Carol suggested to Sheila that she could go for a swim if she thought that she might like to and Sheila just nodded.
"She kept on gazing at me as she went over to the edge of the pool and began getting out of her shorts and halter. She had a bikini on underneath and she just plopped into the water and I kept looking at her beautiful body and I had a big rail on for her.
"Carol and her crew didn't stay long. They got up and went off and Carol gave me a swift kiss on the mouth before she left and as soon as the gates clicked shut on them, Nancy told me to go inside the house and go to her room.
"She had some plans for us in mind and she was sure that I would be glad that she had found me and brought me to her home."
The present case approaches the hopeless hodge-podge status, the paraphiliac deviations presented in it being of such complexity as to defy brief description.
Billy's original psychological "persona" is so blank a sheet-he is, in a word, so "normal"-that it might be difficult to believe that the things he describes actually occurred, had one none of the evidence his present situation provides to corroborate his testimony.
The principal problem with Billy lies in his passivity before the experience that Nancy and her friends provide for him. This points to serious character defects which will, and very soon, show signs of stunting his emotional growth. At the time our narrative breaks off, he and Sheila and the unnamed runaways he mentions meeting in similar circumstances are hardly more than sexual slaves to the affluent adults who manipulate them so shamelessly and with such paucity of visible evidence of guilt feelings or conscience.
Billy's passive collaboration in this is clear; at any time in the process of developing this situation he could have escaped from Nancy's lush surroundings and found a better situation in life, however limited in opportunities. However, there is a strong touch of laziness in his makeup. His only active (as opposed to passive) response to life that we can see is his initial act of running away-and the "active" nature of this is open to question, seeing that his reason for leaving his family and home is rooted in a desire to escape adult responsibility in the form of his young neighbor's pregnancy.
Thus we see that all of his notable acts in the course of the present narrative are directed away from assumption of adult responsibilities and the prerogatives and perquisites that go with those responsibilities and outward a further-almost infinite, if the present situation continues-extension of his childhood ways and lack of autonomy.
Nancy's personality is full of kinks. She is, to begin with, strongly anal-sadistic in her basic sexual orientation, and this reflects itself in many ways.
The first and most blatant evidence of this is, of course, her primary relationship with Billy: a classic dominant-subservient role-playing sort of relationship in which the female expresses her hatred, contempt and resentment of the male sex by her assumption of the dominant role and her subsequent and total degradation of the passive male she adopts for this complementary role. She is, as she describes herself, a 'mean, perverted bitch.'
Her friend Carol has much of the same sadomasochistic bent about her, and the 'urolagnia' episode at the close of our narrative underlines this. Billy's passive acceptance of this unmasculine, subservient role in sex underlines his own rather unassertive, vegetable personality traits.
Indeed, his behavior with her in the beginning is largely that of an unassertive child relating to a bossy, domineering mother. Her treatment of him, again from the beginning, shows her quick intuitive understanding that in Billy she has found the perfect tool to shape to her hand as she pleases-a perfect "new houseboy."
Carol, on the other hand, is somewhat more complex. For one thing, she has not rejected the idea of having an adult male around the house. However passive Paul himself may be, he still represents something more of a wild card than the two children she and Nancy capture in the course of indulging their anal-sadistic fancies. Paul at least can leave, if her demands ever grow excessive even for his uncomplaining personality. For Billy and Sheila the problem is a trifle more complicated, to be sure. They can, of course, leave; but their next stop will be undoubtedly the juvenile home, or an unhappy return to the much-resented parental authority (which, in comparison to the sort of authority Sheila represents, does make more demands of them in the way of adult behavior, and which offers less immediate sexual rewards for conforming conduct). The two children may not know what they want, but they have a good idea by this time as to what they do not want. And there is, to be sure, a sort of illusory security in the present arrangement-so long, at least, as they continue to please their captors.
Is Billy a masochist? Perhaps. Dr. Irving Bieber has this to say about one aspect of the subject in the Comprehensive Textbook of Psychiatry:
The sexual masochist insures gratification by incorporating into the sexual act the pain that is symbolic of the punishment and injury anticipated as reprisal for his having engaged in sexual activity and erotic pleasure. The hope of finding stimuli intense enough to break through sexual inhibitions leads some individuals to seek out various esoteric practices.
The first half of this quotation obviously refers to Billy; he anticipates punishment for his life with Nancy by accepting the pain-physical or psychological-which her sexual relation with him provides. The second half has some oblique reference to Nancy, whose sadistic bent is the surface half of a sadomasochistic iceberg. Below the surface lies a vast body of masochistic desires. She unconsciously desires punishment for her wickedness, and the inhibition she wishes to break through is the inhibition which keeps her from having any deep human relationship with anyone: she has no friends at the time we meet her, no lovers in the "normal" sense-only partners in her frequent orgiastic activities. And the farther her excesses in this regard may lead her, the less progress she makes in achieving a satisfying relationship with anyone.
Thus her relationship with Billy is probably the closest thing to a human relationship that she has with anyone, perverted and abnormal though it may be. Her intense sexual activity with Paul, Carol and their counterparts corresponds closely to that of the promiscuous women discussed by Albert Ellis in Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science:
Few ... have intercourse for sex reasons; most of them seem to do so in order to falsely enhance their egos-instead of truly raising their self-confidence by convincing themselves that they can fully accept themselves whether or not other people, including males, approve of them.
"Nancy was very good about telling me things. She told me, for instance, that many of her friends were keeping runaways and they didn't feel bad about doing it. The kids were getting good care and they were not using drugs and they didn't have to go to the free clinic if they got sick. Too, if they wanted to go to school, college, even, their patron would pay for it.
"But, I never figured that Nancy owed me anything.
"The day that I started in with her, she had me go to her bedroom and as soon as I got there, she began taking my clothes off and when she saw that I had a big hard on she laughed and began playing with it.
"I could see the way you had eyes for that cute little bitch that Carol and Paul are keeping. You'll get at her after a while. First I want to teach you and train you to make you mine. Then we can have some fun with our friends."
"She began getting out of her clothes then. She took off her bra and her firm young breasts sprang straight out on her chest and they were just so pretty I couldn't control myself and I began spurting all over the place. She looked at me with a surprised look and then she moved over and gobbled my dick right away. She didn't like to waste anything at all.
"After she cleaned me up, she told me that I could lie down on the bed and she would finish getting out of her clothes. She stood up and took off the rest of her clothes and then she was walking around naked and I watched her pretty buttocks and the way her little slit moved as she walked. She had no hair on her pussy and she was very smooth there, just like on her cheeks. She sat down on the edge of the bed and she bent so that she could kiss me and she was shaking and whispering crazy stuff into my ears and saying things against my mouth like did I like cunt and she hoped I would turn out to be the kind of boy who loved sucking a girl's cunt because she was that way. She liked cock any way at all but she would enjoy our relationship best if I liked sucking cunt.
"She got herself all steamed up talking like that. She pushed me backwards against the pillows and then she got onto her knees and she moved over so that she could sit down on my cock. She was very wet and slippy in her cunt and she swallowed me right up but it felt like her cunt's walls just wrapped themselves around my dick and got tighter and tighter and it was really a grand and glorious feeling.
"I started coming in her and she wriggled her ass down tight against me and she bent over so that I could play with her lovely tits and she was kissing me and whispering again.
"You are just too quick, dear," she said. "You will get used to me and you will get used to fooling with my cunt all the time and then you will be able to control yourself better."
"She didn't get off of me and I didn't care. She began moving her hips up and down and I could feel my own juice spilling out of her and she kept on riding my cock for a while. Then she got off and she started licking it all up and she was really shaking something awful. She licked it up and then she got on top of me again and she was squirming around and having herself a nice time. She straightened out so that she was lying on top of me. She told me to roll over and fuck her. She was ready for it and I should be able to do splendidly. That's what she said.
"She was sure right. I rolled over and she was under me and her legs went up around my back and she pulled me into her tightly with her heels. She was moving her hips back and forth and she was wiggling and writhing and making sharp little noises and then she started coming and she went clear out of her skull with pure frenzies. She was a wild one and when it happened for her she just went nuts.
"She clung to me for a long time after it was all over and she just couldn't seem to let go. She kept her hips moving back and forth on my cock and she had tightened up on it and I was scared that we would get hung up and wind up in a hell of a shape. But, we didn't. She let go after a while and she was shivering and she told me that she would come steadily for an hour or more when it was really good for her. And I guess that first time it was very good.
"When she let me ease out of her she went right after my cock and she licked it clean, then she made me go down on her and suck the juice from her twat and give it to her in a honey kiss. Then she wanted me to eat her and I had to do that for hours, and I got to find out that Nancy loved coming better than anything else in the whole world.
"We spent the whole day in her bed and she had me fuck her in her asshole and she told me that she liked that very much. Then she said that she had lots of special equipment for having fun with sex. She got out a big suitcase and when she unlocked it there were all sorts of gadgets and fancy stuff. She had a lot of dildoes, different sizes and shapes. She had one that was a double prong and she made me strap that one on and fuck her in both places at the same time. That really turned her on and she popped all over the place but it knocked her out and when she finally went into convulsions with the orgasms that just wouldn't quit, I got a chance to rest and grab a bite to eat.
"She was the kind that could live on sex. She said that she had shacked with a couple of guys when she went to college and she made them a bet that she could go without food for two whole weeks and never miss not eating. She just kept on sucking their cocks and feeding on their come and she said that she gained five pounds in the two weeks and she was glad to get back to eating food again. Not because she hadn't enjoyed the other delicacy, she just didn't want to get fat.
"You'll probably make me fat," she said, smiling at me.
"She was very frank about it all. She told me that she wanted me to stay with her and not run away from her. She asked me if I was having a nice time and I said sure and I wasn't fooling.
"We didn't go anywhere or put any clothes on for a whole week. We would go for a swim in the pool but there was complete privacy and she and I would be naked while we swam and then we would go back to bed and fool around. She liked it if I would neck with her a little and then she would tell me that we could start an "experience." That was her name for it.
"She would want to be necked a lot and then she wanted her tits sucked and licked and played with, then she wanted a trip around the world and I would have to kiss and lick her whole body, and when I got to her asshole she liked lots of tongue up in there, and she would have her hand under her, masturbating and rubbing her clit while I tongued her bunghole.
"After she made herself pop a few times she would want me to stop and I would have to lie down and she would begin to lick and suck me and she would tongue my asshole, too, while she used her hand to jerk me off a little. She would lie on her back and make me fuck her between her tits and when I was ready to come she would want the last thrust to shove my cock into her mouth and she wanted me to shoot my load right down her throat.
"Then it was back to kissing and licking her bare body and when I got there I would have to lick and suck her cunt and use my tongue on her clit and she would shift then so that she was on top and she would give me lots of head while she sucked me off some more times. Then after a while, when we had tried everything else, then she would want us to fuck, and by then we could keep that up for hours.
"She said that she was like a kid with a new toy and she just wasn't at all ashamed of the way she was. Her friend, Carol, called up every day, usually late in the afternoon, and Nancy was quite open and frank about the things that we had been doing all day.
"Late in the week, we were having an early supper in the kitchen so that we would have a long evening ahead of us, and Carol called and she talked to her and kept bending over to give me a kiss now and then and I got the idea that Carol was begging her to have them over so that we could all have some fun. And, Nancy seemed to be considering the matter quite carefully and I thought that she was going to give in.
"Oh, you," she said to Carol, "you just want a brand new cock to play with. That's your trouble."
"She laughed at whatever Carol said, and I just sat and waited to see how it would come out.
"Nancy was sitting at the kitchen table while she talked to her friend Carol and she kept leaning over and kissing me on the mouth and I liked that. She was listening to Carol for a while and she used the hand that wasn't holding the phone to play with my cock and I started playing with her pretty boobs and she gasped and sat up so that I could get at her boobs with no trouble at all. Then she started talking to me so that Carol could hear and she was asking me all about if I liked Carol and her husband, Paul.
"Carol was trying to say something to her and she was trying to talk to me, too, and I wondered why she just didn't put the phone down or do something. But she didn't. She just kept on dividing her time and attentions and saying things to me so that Carol could hear, too.
"Would you like to fuck Sheila and suck her cunt, and let her suck you, too, Billy ?" Carol asked me. She was smiling and when I nodded she made me say the words.
"Sure, I would," I said. "Carol is very pretty and so is Sheila."
"Nancy chuckled and she went back to talking to Nancy.
"Why don't we plan on a weekend together?" she said. "Tomorrow is Friday and you and your tribe can come over here and we will have us an orgy. Does that please you, Carol, dear?"
"They argued about whose house they would spend the weekend in but it came out the way Nancy wanted it to. She had the pool, after all, and she said that whenever any of the cunts got too ripe they could just push the girl into the pool and she could clean herself out real easy. Stuff like that.
"Nancy got herself so hot talking that she wanted me to eat her for a while as soon as she hung up the phone. I was glad to oblige her and she knew it.
"We went right back to fooling around and when we went to bed that night, we were exhausted, as usual. Nancy liked to nurse on my cock when she was going to sleep and I sort of liked having her do that. She was real greedy and she would wake me up the same way. She had all sorts of vitamins and wheat germ and health foods for me to eat. She ate them too, but she said that they would be especially beneficial to me. And I guess they were. I never felt too tired to fuck her or let her suck and she said that she liked that in me.
"We spent the day that Carol and her people came to visit us, fooling around as usual. Nancy seemed eager to get as much out of me as she could, and we spent the whole day fucking and sucking. By the time it was late afternoon, she decided that we should take us a shower and then we would have time for a nap and then we would get dressed.
"We got into the shower together and she made me kneel down and eat her while the water spattered her skin and made her even more excited than usual. She thought it was real cute to piss into my face and after I made her come a couple of times and my mouth was glued real tight to her so that I could eat it all, she started pissing in my mouth and giggling because she was doing something like that to me.
"When she let me stand up again she kissed my face and held my cheeks in her palms while she told me that she was not a nice girl, she was a mean, perverted bitch and she loved pissing all over me. She said that she loved pissing all over Paul, too, and sometimes she and Carol would make Paul lie down on the floor of the shower while she and Sheila and Carol gave him a bath.
"She told me that Paul liked it when they did such things to him.
"Paul is very happy with Carol and Sheila," Nancy told me. "Carol loves to neck Paul while Sheila is sucking him off. I have watched them the way they are with each other. Naturally, she loves to neck Paul when I'm blowing his cock, too. Oh, we do have some grand times. You'll see. You think that you have been having some nice times but just wait till Carol or Sheila neck you while Paul or I suck you. You will think your mind is exploding and your head is going to heaven. You will see."
"She was very talkative and I got the impression that she was a little nervous about Paul and Carol and their little runaway coming to visit but, if she was, it all cleared up after we had a nice nap.
"She made me get cleaned up and I put one of her shirts on and a pair of shorts and she made me shave my face and she inspected my joint too, to make sure that I was nice and clean there, too. She was very careful about everything.
"Carol and Paul and Sheila came for dinner and they were all dressed up, too, and we ate out on the patio and the girls worked and so did Paul and I. After we ate, the older people had to have some coffee and cigarettes and Nancy told me and Sheila to clear the table and put things in the dishwasher.
"Sheila had a sullen look on her pretty face and that made me feel bad. She wasn't at all mad, though. When we were in the kitchen, putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, Sheila walked right up to me and she kissed me right on the mouth and I really liked that. I damned near blew a fuse.
"I feel kind of funny," I said. "I mean, you are a real pretty girl and I like you. I really like you."
"She kissed me again. I'm glad," she said. "They are going to want to watch us in bed after a while. That's the way Carol likes to start things. She will make me get naked and then Nancy will make you get naked and we will have to fool around and suck and fuck and then when they get tired of just watching us, they will get into the act and we will have us a real orgy.
"I like orgies," she said, slowly. "Do you?"
"She moved close to me and she started fooling around with my dick and she had a bright, smiling look in her eyes. She sure liked what she could feel. She started to try the zipper on my shorts but Carol called out to tell us to hurry up and get back to them again. They were tired of waiting for us to get our work done. Sheila listened and she gave me a grin.
"We'll be finished in a moment," she called out.
"We got the dishwasher started and then we went back into the living room and Carol decided that it was time for us to go into the master bedroom. She moved right in on me as soon as we got there. She began taking my clothes off and Nancy began taking Sheila's clothes off.
"Carol put her hand on my stiff cock and she gasped as she touched it. She seemed reluctant to let it go. She was sure a pretty girl, all right, but I was looking at Sheila as more and more of her body was bared by Nancy's busy hands. The little breasts stuck out like plump little tennis balls with sharp little nipples on their tip. Her crotch was bald like Nancy's, and she had a little pair of tiny pink lips that hung down.
"Carol began to feel the goo that was dribbling out of me as I watched Sheila and admired her pretty young bod. Carol just couldn't wait. She bent down and got my cock into her mouth and her little tongue began working like crazy and then I was coming and she was swallowing eagerly. She was like a madwoman, the way she was licking and sucking me, and I wanted to fool around with Sheila and lick that cute little slit of hers and fuck her and hold her and kiss her and Carol was just slowing things down.
"Carol let me go finally and I saw then that Nancy had let Sheila go and she was busy fooling with Paul's fly. She got his cock out into the open and he was big and hard and he just didn't say much but when Nancy bent over so that she could suck his cock he just groaned and then he popped and Nancy was swallowing his juice and sort of shaking and making funny little sounds in her throat.
"Sheila moved over and got onto the bed when Carol told her to and then I went over and got on top of Sheila and we began to neck each other and after a while I felt Carol's fingers holding my cock and guiding it into Sheila's cunt and we started screwing like a couple of eager minks. Sheila was nice and tight and eager and it felt like something was nibbling at the head of my cock each time I plunged it deep into her. She got her heels dug into my back and she was kissing me and licking my mouth and she was as crazy wild for sex as anybody I ever met.
"She was an animal when she got hot and she kept her hips moving and her cunt was clenching my cock all the time I was ramming it into her. After a while I knew that I was coming and it felt like I was trying to hold on to the edge of the world and I wasn't quite making it and then it felt like my balls were on fire and my life's blood was pouring out of me and Sheila clung to me and her mouth sucked at mine and someone was between our legs licking at our drenched crotches and I suspected that it was Carol and when I got a chance to look I found out that I was right. She was a crazy one, too. She just kept on licking my balls and my ass hole and the first thing I knew I was moving my hips again and Sheila was moaning and kissing me and her heels dug into my kidneys again and then we were really making it and Carol's eager tongue was helping us and when I came the second time I damned near rammed Sheila's head right through the headboard of the bed. She didn't mind and she didn't say a word.
"We collapsed and Sheila was hugging me and Carol was licking our crotches and as soon as I took my dick out of Sheila's bod Carol went right after her cunt and she was making a hell of a racket.
"I got my wind back and lit a cigarette, and I looked at Sheila to see if she would want one, but she was in orbit again. Carol's tongue was deep in Sheila's cunt and she was devouring every drop of honey she could coax out of Sheila.
"When I looked around I noticed that Paul and Nancy had gotten undressed and they were fucking like crazy on the floor. Carol still had her clothes on, but she was real busy with Sheila and she was making her little friend come like crazy with her busy tongue.
"After a while, Carol quieted down and she sat up and looked at me and I'm sure she wasn't seeing me. She was all charged up and ready for more fun and games. She began getting out of her clothes and she had lovely big boobs and her legs were good and her cunt was shaved, too. She opened her legs and she crooked her finger at me and when I went close to her she pushed my face into her crotch and she had drenched herself while she was fooling with us. I learned later on that Carol got her biggest kicks out of watching me and Sheila making out and we were very glad to oblige her any time.
"I lost track of things for a while because Carol switched around and she was sitting on top of my face and I was eating cunt and she was sucking my cock and we had us a very nice time.
"When she had enough for a while, she rolled off of me and I saw that Sheila was sucking Nancy's twat and Nancy was eating Sheila's. They had a sixty-nine going and, while I watched, Paul knelt behind Sheila's upturned ass and he slipped his cock into her and while Nancy licked Sheila's clit, Paul screwed her. After he was done, Nancy and Sheila spent a long time together, really knocking each other out.
"Carol got it all together again after a while, and then she wanted me to fuck her. And this time she wanted it a very special way. She sat down on top of it and rammed it into her cunt, then she bent over and kissed me and clung to me while Paul shoved his cock into her asshole. She went ape then and it all got to be very hectic and when I came that time, I passed out. I was just worn to a frazzle, I guess.
"When I woke up again, Paul was sleeping and Sheila and Nancy were having a sixty nine and Carol was sitting up in the bed enjoying a quiet smoke. She gave me a grin when she saw that I was awake again and she moved over so that I could play with her boobs and then she wanted me to lick her cunt and give her some fun. I did it, too.
"Carol stayed right with me and she made me feel that she liked me. She liked to suck me for a little while and then when I was half out of my skull with the need to pop she would quit and tell me that she wanted to finish it fucking.
"When it came time to go to sleep, Carol and Paul and Nancy got to sleep in the king sized bed and Sheila and I got to sleep together in my bed in the room that I was supposed to occupy.
"Sheila and I woke up real early and we got started fucking and we just kept it up until Carol walked in and told us to quit for a while.
"We had some breakfast with the others and the day began for us. We tried many different combinations and nothing was too wild for us. I found that I liked Carol and Paul and when Carol wanted to watch us sucking each other off we did it and I found that I liked that kind of sex, too.
"All of that was quite a while ago and Sheila and I are pretty close nowadays. She has never wanted to leave Carol and Paul and I have never wanted to leave Nancy. We live very sheltered lives and we have some very wonderful times, but no one would ever suspect or even believe the things that we do.
"The girls are all on The Pill so that worry never shows up. I know that I used to think that the girls would rather suck than fuck but that just isn't so. It seems to be about half and half and usually a matter of the mood that they are in.
"Naturally, since getting to know Sheila and Carol and Paul I have gotten to know other people who have picked up runaway kids on the highways and taken them home for some good food and some clothes and in some instances the kids elected to leave and go on their way, but not usually.
"Most of the young people want to stay and enjoy a home where they are wanted and loved and they can enjoy themselves.
"That's the life I chose and it has been very good for me and I know that I made no mistake.
"And I would not want to change it in any way."
Billy's retreat from adulthood may, at the present rate, continue for some years. Eventually he will have to come to terms with the results of this behavior.
CONCLUSION
The widespread phenomenon of the runaway child includes, as we have seen, many variants, many reasons, and many possible prognoses. It also, as we have inferred from our examination of the five cases, lends itself to varying interpretations.
One of these involved interpretation of the loss of the parent-whether physical loss or the loss of the parent's confidence and esteem-as a kind of rejection by the parent of the child. This is accompanied, usually, by an intense hostility. About this, Hollo May has this to say in his study of runaway girls:
The key to the problem is to be found by inquiring into the psychological meaning of the rejection. We shall therefore ask, with reference first to the cases of the girls in whom rejection was found with neurotic anxiety and then to the cases in which it was not: How did the girl subjectively interpret the rejection? The chief characteristic of the girls who fit the hypothesis is that they always interpreted the rejection against the background of high expectations of their parents. They exhibited what we have termed a contradiction between expectations and reality in their attitudes toward their parents. They were never able to accept the rejection as realistic, objective facts.
Complicating the problem of prognosis-and, indeed, of any treatment whatsoever of the mass-runaway syndrome is this: the children left home as individuals, acting alone; and for the first time in modern history they found a functioning-if largely reactionary-"counter-culture" movement to accept them, explain them to the world with vast accusatory apologies, teach them new values to replace the old, and force upon them a permanently antisocial point of view that largely precludes any return to even a reformed home environment in which the original areas of disagreement have been changed to fit new patterns.
One of the things they have learned is the joy of breaking other people's taboos, as much for the shock value (with its implied hostility and aggression) as anything. To be sure, they have their own taboos, and they are as restrictive as anything their parents forced upon them-but they do not recognize them as taboos, any more than the parents had.
J. C. Flugel comments on taboos in Man, Morals and Society:
Freud in his Totem and Taboo was the first to throw any really satisfactory light upon the psychological processes involved, but in doing so he built upon a distinction that had been made by earlier observers, notably Wundt, i.e., that there is a sort of double attitude toward many objects of taboo. These objects are at once holy and sacred on the one hand, and unclean and polluted on the other, though these two strangely contradictory qualities combine in making the object dangerous and a source of fear. Freud, by a characteristic stroke of genius, saw a resemblance between this double attitude involved in taboo and the double attitude or compromise that from the start of psychoanalytic work had become apparent in so many products of the mind; in dreams, in wit, and above all in neurotic symptoms.
All of the children reviewed in this study can be viewed as in some way "deprived." Everyone has been deprived of something in the course of growing up. Thus it is not altogether irrelevant to the general discussion to return to the specific comments of John Bowlby in his discussion of the orphan as "deprived" child:
The proper care of children deprived of a normal home life can now be seen to be not only an act of common humanity, but to be essential for the mental and social welfare of a community ... Deprived children, whether in their own homes or out of them, are a source of social infection as real and serious as are carriers of diphtheria and typhoid ... Determined action can greatly reduce the number of deprived children in our midst and the number of adults liable to produce more of them.
It is, of course, impossible to separate these social statements from the psychosexual, given the sexual adventures of the particular group of runaways under discussion in the present study. And, besides the infantile challenge to taboo cited earlier, there is at work here a definite challenge to conventional morality and ethical standards, and it must be considered in any discussion of the subject. C. G. Jung saw the matter this way:
The conflict between ethics and sex today is not just a collision between instinctuality and morality, but a struggle to give an instinct its rightful place in our lives, and to recognize in this instinct a power which seeks expression and evidently may not be trifled with, and therefore cannot be made to fit in with our well-meaning moral laws. Sexuality is not mere instinctuality; it is an indisputably creative force that is not only the basic cause of our individual lives, but a very serious factor in our psychic life as well. Today we know only too well the grave consequences that sexual disturbances can bring in their train.
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