During the last few miles of her long drive she was able to achieve a small measure of calm. She was frightened and just a bit sickened by the girl that she had become and for most of the long drive from New York she had been unable to rid her mind of filth.
She was sure that the thoughts and pictures cluttering up her mind represented the worst kind of sick thinking. And that was so very odd because Diane Adams was pure ice. Beautiful but frigid.
She guided her small sports car along the throughway and the warmth of the spring sunshine filled her whole being. She was sure that it was cleansing her. And, if there were any little vestiges of sensual and hedonistic inclinations left in her after she arrived at the cottage, a quick plunge into the clear waters of the lake would finish cleaning out the dirty corridors of her mind.
She thought about a lot of things while cars of all makes and models whizzed past her on the wide highway and she found that she was able to cope with the things that were happening to her so long as she was not imprisoned in her pretty little apartment. She began to wonder if there was something voluptuous or sexually stimulating about the place where she lived. There had to be an answer somewhere.
A beautiful honey blonde with an exceptionally good figure and a thriving career as a commercial artist should not begin drawing pictures that were truly pornographic. That was sickness she decided. And it would have to stop. She would do whatever was necessary to cleanse her mind and her whole being.
"And when you are all finished with that, dearie," she said, aloud, "you can begin doing something about those wild erotic dreams you have every little once in a while. Some of them are real dillies. And, you know what you always have to do. Think about how you have begun to enjoy the nasty little things that you do. Think about that, girl," she added viciously.
She happened to glance to her left and she saw that a nice looking young guy in a big convertible was watching her, knowing that she was very obviously talking to herself. She grinned at him, a goon girl grin, and she winked.
"I'm crazy," she said, knowing that he couldn't possibly hear her. "I'm crazy and I'm nutty and like that. Good bye."
She touched her toe to the gas pedal and the little foreign car zipped away and she was glad that it did. She could understand, finally, why the little car cost so much money. When she saw that the needle was registering a bit past ninety she decided to ease off and she was glad that there were no cops in sight. She didn't want a ticket for speeding to add to her other woes.
She was twenty-three, virtually alone in the world now and she was sure that she was a very good artist, a good illustrator and she should be very happy. Instead, she was suddenly lonely, too tense all the time and lately she was bedeviled by dreams and fantasies of sexual experiences and perversions too wild to be attempted by someone so square as she was.
And, when she realized that her work was becoming involved with her preoccupation with sensuality, she panicked and ran for the woods. As she turned the car off of the main highway and began easing it along the road that led to the cabin and the lake, she began to feel the sense of calm and tranquility that she was always able to enjoy when she came to the cabin. She could leave the whole wide world outside and lock herself behind the gates and the big stone wall that protected her from outsiders and simply give herself up to the heady joys of freedom.
She wondered why she had not destroyed the paintings that had frightened her so thoroughly. She could have destroyed them, she should have destroyed them, but she had not.
"They are damned good art work," she said, out loud. "Maybe I won't ever be able to show them to anybody but they are done well. Everything should be done well."
She drew up in front of the big gates and stopped the car. The key was well hidden and she found it easily, then she locked the gates behind her. hid the key again and drove on up to the pretty little house her folks had built on the shores of the private lake when she had still been a child.
She liked the cabin and she visited often. One of the rooms was already converted into a studio and she often brought her work with her when she wanted to rest and relax in the bucolic charm of the lakeside home.
She parked her car in front of the garage and she saw that the lawns had been well tended as usual. She knew that there was a little old man who took care of the place for her and had been doing it for years, but she never saw him. She got a bill every month and she sent her check and that seemed to take care of everything. She stood for a moment in the mid-morning sunshine and as she drew a big breath of the clean, crisp air into her lungs, she could feel her whole body tingling with a brand new sense of well being. She glimpsed her reflection in the side mirror and she stopped sticking her chest out immediately. Her pert young breasts were jutting out like a bewitching promontory of exceptional beauty and she was afraid that someone might see her and consider her vain. That was senseless thinking because there was no one within miles of the house.
It took her quite a while to get all of her things moved into the house. She finally got it all done and the first thing she had to do was open up her folder and look again at the drawings that she had made. They were scenes right out of her tormented dreams, and she finally placed the two paintings on the floor and then knelt and studied them intently, and even as she gazed at her own handiwork, she could feel the queasy, trickling stirrings within her loins, she could feel the wetness between her legs and she stiffled an impulse to weep. She was a big girl now and she drew dirty pictures and she was becoming quite talented when it came to stimulating her own flesh to the point of ecstasies previously unimagined. She was not a very nice girl, after all, she supposed.
She knelt on the carpeting in her studio and she stared at the paintings and she shivered with a quick, convulsive onslaught of heavy sensual excitement. She knew that she had seen the things she had painted in her recent dreams, but she had no other knowledge of the things that she had put on canvas.
One of the pictures showed a male sexual organ in a fine state of erection, and the organ was dripping from its tip while a delicate pink tongue protruded from a feminine mouth and licked the throat of the splendid organ. Disembodied hands with bright red nails plucked at a large pair of balls in a hairy sac, and the whole painting was done in bright, glowing colors and she could barely remember the times when she had done the work.
The other painting showed a male organ buried deep inside a female orifice while the girl's perineum and valley beneath glistened and sparkled with the spilled drippings of a union that had already enjoyed climax. She was impressed by the detail she had achieved and she wondered why she was being assailed by such an illness now.
She was no longer a child, but she was still a virgin and she supposed that she would continue in that status for a long time no matter how erotic her dreams became.
The details of the nightmare she had experienced the previous night began flooding back into her mind and she began to shake, overwhelmed by the waves of heavy sensuality and carnal pleasures that she was becoming heir to more and more frequently nowadays.
She tried to remember if she had eaten or drunk anything that could induce nightmare but she could not remember such details. The details of her erotic dreams were quite clear however.
She shook her head as she moved away from the bright and colorful paintings that were on the floor. She was impressed anew with the detail, the life-like character of the paintings. She shook her head as she moved around the room, putting the glowing paintings out of sight and trying to tidy up the room as she went.
It had been a long, hot drive and she was eager to finish the chores that she had to do so that she could climb into the shower and rid herself of the city dust and grime that she had picked up in her travels. Even as she moved about, getting herself settled in for a visit, she could begin to feel the seething, working fever that was beginning in her loins and her brain, too. Passions that were a brand new thing with her were making themselves felt and she began to wonder if she had become susceptible to a special type of virus that got inside of people and turned them on sexually. She was sure that something like that must have happened to her. There was no other explanation.
She went into the pretty bedroom that she had furnished and fitted out herself and she stood for a long time, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She could see the shine of good health shimmering in her light golden hair as it framed her pretty face, and her gray-green eyes sparkled back at her, her soft, sullen mouth smiled in conspiracy with the rest of her and she knew that she was going to undress and watch herself as she bared her well shaped body. The voluptuous sensations that she had just begun to know about began seeting in her body and as she moved her legs slightly, she could feel the slippery wetness between her thighs and she shivered with new sensual excitement.
There were full length mirrors on each door in her bedroom and there were three doors, so she knew that she could open each door to a certain position and then be able to see herself from all sides.
She moved around her room, adjusting the doors and when she stood, finally, in front of the mirror that she usually used for inspection of her dress and her grooming, she was so sexually excited she could barely breathe.
In a way she was sorry that she had allowed her career to take precedence over all else. There had been many guys, handsome and clever young men who had found her lovely and talented, and some had even found her desirable, but each time that one of her associations began to take on the characteristics of a romance, she ended it. Perhaps mother nature was paying her back now for being so insensitive to things. Perhaps she needed to be paid back. She was always aware of the way other girls met and married their young men and she knew that she could have married many times but she had always avoided such entanglements this far and now it was probably much too late. Now she was a lovely, twisted thing, filled with distorted sensuality and odd inclinations.
She knew that she had reached a stage where she could become intensely excited by the business of undressing, and the sight of her own beauty in the mirrors turned her on so fiercely that she became a slave to her own carnal appetites and yearnings. And this was all very new to her.
But much too enjoyable to shun.
She had always thought that those persons who were forced to masturbate were poor lost souls who simply could not control their own lusts and were probably exploiting them for their own pleasures. And now she was a member of that group and she was horribly ashamed of her own weaknesses and she had now reached the stage where she felt very sorry and ashamed before she began her long, languid times of autoerotic activity, and she was even sorrier that she was discovering new and more awful sources of sexual bliss. She had discovered that mechanical devices could do great things for her and by now she had almost established a relatively ideal ritual.
Now, as she faced her beautiful reflection in the long mirror, she knew what she was going to have to do, and she could see the hoyden quality in her sparkling smile. She opened her blouse and took it off. She stood straighter as she looked at the pale white purity of her plump young breasts as they nestled indignantly behind the white satin bra that concealed them. She reached behind her and unhooked the thin band of white elastic and then her glorious breasts sprang into their impudent, upward tilting splendor and she could not resist the urge to touch them, to fondle them, to tease the pale pink nipples into swollen hardness and extreme sensitivity. She loved handling her smooth white breasts and feeling the swift, answering agitation in her vaginal depths. She would always experience many little orgasms, times of exquisite sexual thrills that were but a prelude to a final, explosive orgasm that was massive, convulsive and the culmination of her sexual agonies.
She had learned much about her own lusting personality and this was all very strange to her, and she had battled such inclinations valiantly, and now she suspected that she had only increased their strengths by her refusal to accept them.
She gazed at the mirror and she was thrilled as she watched her tiny nipples pop out of the little pink nests they usually occupied. Her fingers cupped her sweet flesh and as she squeezed and kneaded the warm beauties, she could feel the excitement beginning in her loins, then she could feel the little, tickling, trickling sensations as her glands began excreting their products in great eagerness. She gasped in sheer pleasure as a quick, convulsive orgasm occurred deep within her loins and she let go of her breasts and began taking off her pants and her white satin panties, too. It thrilled her to see that she had soaked her panties with the fruits of her excitements and when she felt the weakness overwhelming her, she slid to the bright red carpeting and then she parted her thighs, entranced by the beauty of her creamy white body against the bright red background. She placed her fingertips below the small triangle of flaxen curls of her pubis and then she was touching the tiny, pale pink lips of her sexual machinery and she began enjoying another quick burst of intense joy as she climaxed again. She slipped her finger into the little opening and as the delicate pink petals moved aside and permitted entry, she began gasping in quick, seething excitement and then she was using her fingers madly, frenziedly, seeking an end to the horrid torments of her own body.
She sat up and watched her own flesh as it responded to the mechanical efforts of her fingers and then she was shaking violently, sobbing and whimpering in terrible torment as the fierce orgasm shook her and all but destroyed her.
The massive orgasm that finally calmed her lasted for a long time, and when she was finally able to move, she showered and she stood for a long time beneath the torrent of cool water, wondering if she was a bit unlike other girls. She wondered if the type of orgasmic splendors and violent convulsions that she knew were usual, how could girls survive very many of them? She decided that she would have to think about it when she had time, but now that she had attended to the carnal demands of her body she had many other things to do.
She glanced out of the bathroom window while she was towelling herself dry and the calm lake, shimmering under the bright sunlight, lured her like the catnip lures a cat. When she dressed, she put on her brand new green bikini and a few minutes later she carried her blanket and portable and cigarettes to the edge of the lake. She left everything on the blanket and she dove into the water and came up gasping as the coldness touched her, filled her. She began swimming in a hurry and after a few minutes, her body adjusted to the water's temperature and she was quite comfortable.
She swam for a long time, and when she finally returned to the shore and her blanket, she found that she had company.
A very nice looking young man in a pair of tight trunks was sitting on her blanket, calmly smoking one of her cigarettes and listening to her radio. He gave her a big grin as she stood at the edge of the blanket, combing her hair back with her fingers. She was dripping water and she stared at the young man, hating him, resenting his intrusion into her private world.
He said, "Hi. I'm Bill Edwards. I'm one of your neighbors. You must be Diane Adams."
She stared at him for a long moment, wondering if she should answer him at all. She felt that she would rather pick up her blanket and her things and walk back into her house without saying a word to him. She hated pushy people and she hated pushy, handsome young men particularly.
He was looking at her, waiting for her to say something. He flipped the butt of his cigarette off toward the edge of the lake and she was tempted to scold him, to tell him about pollution and some of the other things that people could talk about safely.
"I am Diane Adams," she said. "You are on private property. Please go. I don't like uninvited guests."
He stared at her for a moment and then he stood up and she could see that he was tall and powerfully built. She could also see that he did not like her very much at the moment.
"I didn't mean to trespass," he said. "I am an architect. George Pell, your favorite account, according to him, said that you wanted to talk to an architect about some remodeling you want to do here. I thought I'd take a walk over and see about it. But, we don't need to talk. I'm sorry I bothered you. Good day."
He started to walk away and she cried out to him. "Don't go," she said. "Please, don't go. I do want to talk to you. Please stay."
He turned back and he smiled at her. She knew that her face was red, she could feel the prickling sensations that always came when she blushed. She tried to think of a way that she could apologize for her rudeness and then she decided she wouldn't need to apologize to him at all. He wouldn't require it.
She smiled at him and she could see that he was admiring her and she liked the look that was in his eyes.
"You know," he said, slowly, "you are so beautiful, you dazzle a man. But, I think it's the smile that does it. You need that nice, slow smile. And, when you are wearing it you are lovely beyond belief. I am so glad that I met you."
His frank admiration was suddenly making her uncomfortable.
"I'm glad to meet you, too," she said. "And I did ask George if he knew anyone up here who might be helpful. I'm very glad he sent you. But, he didn't say a word to me. I mean, about you."
"He talked to me only yesterday. I came up last night and I found my place all cluttered up with some rather disreputable friends and I'm sure that there are at least a dozen different and independent orgies going on there right now. I walked out and left them to their frenzied chores."
She was amazed by what he was saying to her. She sat down on the blanket and let him light one of her cigarettes from her. He also took one for himself. She settled back on her very pretty haunches and looked at him a bit doubtfully.
"I'm afraid that some of my friends are realistic and candid about things," he said. "Most of the girls were wandering around naked and that sort of started things. So, they will have orgies for a week or so. But, that's fine. This way we can talk about what you want done and perhaps you can show me what you have in mind."
"I wouldn't want you to miss an orgy," she said. "Not on my account. Perhaps we had better talk at another time."
He shook his head and then he reached out to help her up onto her feet. His fingers were strong and his grasp upon her delicate hand was too strong and he hurt her without meaning to do it, she was sure, but for the first time in her life she reacted to pain with a wave of pure sensualistic anguish. Thinking about what took place within her at that moment, she had to recall that she had never been hurt in quite that way before. But, once his touch did bring her pain she was alive and seething with a quick and demanding sexuality. She ached with an urge to feel his hands on her most intimate flesh, and a sudden yearning to be possessed, to be raped and swallowed in a vortex of unlimited passions and she cried out in quick protest. He let go of her hand and she almost fell, weak and utterly disorganized by the waves of sensual excitement that almost sent her crashing into him with yearning and ambitious lips and tongue and agitated organs. When she realized that she had been very close to actually assaulting him, and trying to kiss him and trying for much more, perhaps, she knew that she had become quite sick. He stood, looking at her, liking her, and she felt sorry for him because he had no inkling of what a weirdo she had become. She calmed very quickly but her heart was pounding wildly in her chest and she knew that she was losing control of herself and she wished that he would go home and talk to her at another time.
"If you like," he said, "we can look at your place and you can tell me what you have in mind and I will see if I can come up with some fresh ideas for you."
"I don't need too much in the way of remodeling," she said, "I just want to add a room on. A study, really, where I can do my work. I am an illustrator and I do a lot of my work up here."
"I know," he said. "Shall we take a look?"
She nodded and as soon as she stepped off of the blanket, he picked it up and carried it. He had already handed her the other things and as they moved toward her house she was again aware of him as a vital, virile male and she knew that she was trembling. And she was disgusted with herself.
She was much too conscious of him as a man and she caught herself glancing at the big bulge in his trunks. She shook her head slowly, almost angrily, as she made herself look away. When she took him into the house, she was again especially aware of him and she wished that she could achieve a bit of the customary naturalness and comfort she was able to feel when with most of the men that she knew. She resented him for being able to affect her sensually and emotionally and intellectually. She wanted to explain to him about the study that she wanted to have built but instead she offered to fix him a drink and he accepted her offer.
There was a bar in the small study that already existed and he sat on one of the stools, watching her as she built them a drink. She pushed his at him and he took it, and sipped it, gazing at her admiringly across the rim of the glass. She was also looking at him as she sipped her drink.
"You have a very pretty place," he told her, smiling. "But I suppose that you know that. And, I can see how a bit more space just might gave you more work area."
"There is lots of room for expansion," she said, "and I would want to take advantage of the lighting possibilities. You know, the bright morning sunlight does wonders for me when I'm working, so I would want to take that into consideration. Perhaps a glass roof would do it. Why don't we take a look out back?"
"Fine," he said. He climbed down off of his stool and he followed her as she led the way toward the rear of the house. It annoyed her to see that he was very much interested in watching her rear end and she was relieved somewhat when they walked out into the back yard sunshine. She held the cool glass against her lips and she watched him as he looked around and estimated the possibilities available to her.
"No problem," he said, sipping at his drink. "We can pick up just this side of the kitchen doorway and run out as far as you like."
"I thought that twenty feet would do it," she said.
"That will give you lots of room," he said. "Now, do you want a formal bid?"
"No," she said. "I trust you. You can begin working on the drawings whenever you are ready. I have already made a sketch so you should have no problems. You take out the permit and engage the contractor and the others, don't you?"
"Yes," he said. "And I supervise the job. I suppose that you want it done as quickly as possible."
"Yes," she said. "I do."
She turned then and she was about to begin walking back into her house, but she stumbled and then she fell and the glass with her drink in it went skittering across the back lawn. She felt a quick twinge of pain in her ankle and then when he reached down to help her up, his hands hurt her again and she was suddenly, abruptly, on fire with sickening sexuality, overwhelming desires too raw, too primitive to stifle. Somehow, when he pulled her up onto her feet, she slammed against his naked chest and the softness of her breasts flattened against his firm body. His arms went around her and then he was murmuring tiny, fragmented words against her ear and for a moment, she could hear nothing of what he was saying, and then his mouth found hers and he was kissing her and his words were sandwiched in between kisses and she could hear every one of them. She knew that she was shaking and shivering and he was, too, and she didn't realize it at the moment but her hands were caught between them and her fingers were busy with his immense erection and the soft, bulging flesh that was beneath. He was not aware of what she was doing and she was not aware of it, either, at the moment. Later she would remember that she had been the aggressor and she would try to understand why she had been like that, but while his lips were busy with her mouth and his words were telling her how lovely, how desirable she was, she could hear nothing else.
They were tearing at each with frenzied hands, touching and squeezing and his tongue was in her mouth, their breathing was not at all dependable and somehow they fell. They were on the ground and she was whimpering and moaning and begging him not to take her while she was baring his loins and exciting him with frantic fingers so that he would take her. His hands were on her breasts and then she felt his mouth there and his hands were busy in her crotch and she realized dimly that her bikini was in shreds and then he was sliding himself into her and she gasped in quick, blazing ecstasy and then she fainted, too overcome by vivid sensation, too thrilled to survive the initial agonies of penetration and ecstasy.
She was not unconscious for long. She came awake to feel the raw thrills of his motions in her and as she regained all of her senses hurriedly, she began to enjoy the rich, heady pleasures of what was happening. She was getting herself screwed quite thoroughly and while she was sobbing and whimpering and yelping in pain, she was also experiencing fantastically beautiful sensations of pure ecstasy. She had the insane feeling that he was made just right for her, that they fitted together perfectly, ideally, and then she was caught, like a leaf in a whirlpool and her senses sharpened and froze in a time of purest ecstatic sensations and then she was bursting, exploding and he was exploding, too. She could feel him inside of her tight little sheath, she could feel the quick, pulsing spurts as the material spattered against flesh too sensitive and inflamed for such an assault and then she was spending too. She knew that they were clinging to each other, wet and slick with sweat, naked and dirtied by the bits of grass and dirt that clung to their bodies. She was weeping and sobbing and when he kissed her mouth he could taste the tears that were on her lips. He began to shiver and then he was shaking and his senses seemed to return to him.
She felt his organ shriveling up inside of her and when he finally withdrew she was conscious of a deep sense of loss. She didn't feel quite right, entirely whole with his organ gone from her body. And then her tissues began to shrink back to normal and she never wanted him or any other man inside of her again.
He pushed himself up and he was sitting in front of her, and she could see the misery in his eyes and on his face.
"I am so terribly sorry," he said, "I just don't know what happened to me. I just don't know. I never intended to do anything like that. I don't do things like that. I don't know what happened."
She sat up, her arms folded across her naked breasts, her legs tightly closed against the gaze of the intruder.
"You raped a girl," she said. "That's what happened."
They were both virtually naked, both of them concerned with a belated modesty. He was covering his naked crotch, too. She was still trembling, still shaken, and the memory of the rich, voluptuous raptures that she had experienced was still alive and throbbing in her being. She hated him with a viciousness that she had never supposed she could muster, and she knew that what had happened was her fault. She could have run away, she could have screamed, she could have done many things to prevent what had taken place but she had not done any of the things that would have changed it at all.
"Please," she said, "go and leave me alone. Please go. I want to get up and go into my house and take a shower. Please, just go and stay away from me."
He was trying to get his trunks back to where they belonged and he managed it because of an adroit shifting and squirming routine he went through. He stood and offered her his hand and she shook her head, rejecting his offer of help.
"I can't just walk away and leave you like this," he said.
"Try it," she said.
He shrugged, then he turned and walked back into the house. A few minutes later she heard the sound of the front door closing and then she was sure that he was gone.
She straightened up and when she looked around she saw that she was alone in her back yard with woods all around her. She stood up then, oblivious to modesty. She brushed the sticks and grass and pieces of dirt from her body. She felt the slippery rivulets sliding down her thighs and she was filled with a brand new rage. "Pig," she said, angrily.
She strode into the house and when she stepped under the shower she knew that she was glad that it had happened in a way. She had managed to establish certain things that she had previously worried about and she was not sure whether that was progress or not.
She was honest enough to admit to herself that she had enjoyed the ecstasies of love making in spite of her usual frigidity. It had not been vulgar and ugly, and obscene, as she was sure it had to be. True there had been violence and pain and frenzied abuses of each other, but there had been something wonderful, something beautiful in their union.
The water streamed down onto her body and she scrubbed herself with wash cloth and soap and when she slid her fingers inside of her abused little sheath she realized that she was no longer a virgin. That distressed her and she wished that she could have been deflowered under more affectionate circumstances, but that might never have taken place.
She could feel a certain measure of pain still tingling and smarting in her outraged flesh and she began to cry without having any conscious desire to do so.
She began to remember the hideous things that she had done to him and she could recall the strong, overwhelming surges of sexual desire and the feeling she had of being in need. Just like a dog in heat, she thought.
"Bitch," she said, loudly, angrily.
She stepped from the shower and then she stretched out on her bed to think about the horrid things that had happened to her. She didn't really do much thinking after all.
She fell sound asleep in seconds.
Diane dreamed that it was afternoon again-her dream was very real and vivid, and she caught herself wondering how the line between reality and fantasy could become so blurred.
She was down at the shore, just as before, and Bill Edwards was there, too. She came out of the water and engaged him in conversation. In the dream, Bill Edwards kept adjusting his genitals inside the form-fitting bathing trunks he wore. She found it arousing, and she wanted his cock to swell and burst through his shorts.
Their conversation was funny, she thought. They talked about his plans for remodeling the place, while all the while he handled himself and she stared hard at him, a smile on her lips. It wasn't like that, really. But in her dream, all conflicts had somehow vanished.
"Let's take a look at the place," he said.
She followed him to the property and, once inside the house, dropped all pretense of virginal coyness.
He looked at her tawny figure with sexual appreciation apparent in his eyes. "You are the loveliest woman to have lived around here in some time," he said.
She smiled. "Really? And how would you know that? Do you get around that much?"
"The only ones I haven't fucked, was because I didn't want to fuck them," Bill replied. "All the others have been plowed under at least once." He licked his lips. "But none of them can compare to you."
She stepped out of her bikini while he watched. His erection poked through the leg of his trunks. "Like what you see?" she asked. She had never felt so wantonly excited in all of her life.
"Turn around," he said.
She spun on her heel and displayed her beauty for him. "What do you like best?" she asked.
Bill stepped forward, then stopped and let his shorts drop to the floor. His meaty staff was at full erection and she licked her lips in anticipation.
"I like your ass," he said, "Nice and juicy. Also looks like a cherry ass. I love fucking cherry asses."
She stopped moving. "What are you talking about?"
He came closer. "A cunt's a cunt," he said. "Some are so big you can't do anything with them, but assholes-they're different. And cherry assholes are the tightest thing known to man."
He grabbed her before she could move away. This wasn't going the way it should, she thought. Something was wrong. Was it only a dream? Diane couldn't remember-if it was a dream, it was too grimly realistic to enjoy, she decided. "Let me go!"
"Let you go? After you lured me up here for a taste of your sweet cunt?" He laughed. "We'll get around to that, of course-I like a straight fuck as well as the next man. But first, sweetheart, you're going to stick that ass of yours up for me and I'm going to ram this thing in there and fuck you good and hard."
She tried to run away, but he was far too quick for her. She struggled in his arms, but he hit her with his fist on the side of her jaw and she crashed to the floor. She saw nothing but flashes of color and felt a painless throbbing in her temple. He was breathing heavily. "Now don't do anything as stupid as that again," he said.
She felt herself being turned over on to her stomach. "What?" She found that it was difficult to talk. Her tongue seemed to have thickened in her mouth. She didn't know what was going on.
Suddenly he loped an arm around her waist and lifted her middle off the floor. He slid two pillows underneath her and then dropped her down. Her ass hung invitingly in the air. "Spread those legs," he said. "Make it easy on yourself."
She did as she was told, knowing that further resistance would prove useless. She felt him kneeling behind her and then she felt the warm, thick head of his cock nuzzle between her legs.
The searing pain shot through her as he pushed mightily, forcing his way into her virgin and tender asshole. She screamed loudly, and she heard him laughing behind her. "That's what I like to hear," he grunted. "I want it hurt-and I want you to try to get away from me!"
Diane tried crawling forward but he pressed down harder, sinking another couple of inches of searing flesh into her rectum. She screamed again and he buried his lance to the hilt, and she almost passed out from the pain of it.
Then it was over and she felt him withdraw his thick staff and laugh. "You might have to lick this off for me," he said, "especially if you want it in your cunt."
As she turned around to see what he was talking about, Diane woke up.
CHAPTER TWO
It was late afternoon when she woke and she fixed herself some coffee and after she decided that she was awake, she began looking things over, checking her supplies. She knew that she would have to go into the township and do some shopping, and she began making out a list. She could feel the stiff, painful discomfort in her loins and she tried to decide what to do about being raped by her handsome young neighbor.
A deep-seated streak of honesty forced her into a realization that the word rape might not apply in her case. She wondered if she was becoming obsessed with sex and the hedonistic joys that it could furnish to her. She didn't want to be one of those girls who were at the mercy of their own glands and inclinations. She didn't want to change her attitudes about sex, either. She just wanted to go along as usual, doing her work and trying to live her life as happily as she could manage.
She tried to put all thoughts of her neighbor and the things that they had done together out of her mind. She had to stop and make an effort to remember his name. What was it? Bill Edwards? That was it, Bill Edwards. How do you do, Bill Edwards, meet Diane Adams and try to remember her because you copped her cherry in a hurry and a guy should always remember it when he cops a girl's cherry. It is part of the ritual, Bill, you are supposed to remember.
She was crying again and that upset her. She was becoming much too emotional about everything and she wondered if she had made a very serious mistake in coming to the lake for a time of quiet work and contemplation. Perhaps she should have visited a psychiatrist instead of leaving the city. She sat at the kitchen table in the lakeside house and sipped coffee and smoked cigarettes and tried to sort things out in her head. She had been afraid to see a shrink because all of the girls that she had ever talked to about such visits always reported that the medics were very much interested in how often a girl played with herself and if she was afraid of making it with a guy and if she liked it up the old dirt road or in her nose or any crazy place that the medics could think up.
She remembered one young girl who had wound up laying her shrink and she just didn't care about anything after that. The girl had flipped for the young medic and he had flipped for her and they wound up getting married and having lots of lovely neuroses together. , She was wearing a robe as she sat and drank coffee and she finally got up and went into her bedroom so that she could dress and go into town. She slipped off her robe in front of the mirrors and she stood looking at her body with an impersonal stare. She was not a virgin any more but she didn't look any different. If anything, she looked to be vibrantly healthy and indecently serene. Her eyes were a bit puffy from her weeping but she could fix that with some cold water. She began brushing her hair and watching her nude body in motion was extremely appealing and rather stimulating.
"Narcissistic bitch," she said, amiably.
She chose the clothing that she would wear with great care. For some reason that she didn't bother to analyze she wanted to look as young and virginal as she could and she supposed that that was sheer vanity. She settled for shorts and a halter and a pair of comfortable loafers. When she got into the car she had a wispy kerchief tied around her gleaming golden hair and she swung out of the yard and onto the road, wishing that she just might run into Bill Edwards.
"I'd run the son of a bitch over," she said, viciously. Then she burst into laughter, delighted and amused by her own illiogical viciousness. She began tooling the pretty little car through the winding roadway that led to the big gates and the outside world. When she stopped the car and unlocked the gates, she took time out to wonder how Bill Edwards, her rapist neighbor, had managed to invade the privacy of her grounds. She realized that he would have had little trouble doing it. All he had to do was swim from his place to hers. It was as simple as that. Some protection, those big gates and high walls. Some protection.
She enjoyed her trip to town as she always did. She had grown up with the merchants, in a way. She and her folks had spent the summers at the lake and she knew everyone and they knew her. Now that she came to the area so frequently, her visits were pretty much accepted now as normal.
She had to buy a lot of groceries and other supplies and she noticed that the Palace was playing an old picture that she had wanted to see but had missed. She decided that she would take her purchases home and then return to town and have dinner in one of the restaurants. Then she could make the show and drive home afterwards and be tired enough to sleep without having any of the weird, erotic dreams sharing her night.
She supposed that she was in love with the lake area and when she drove back to her house, she dawdled, eager to drink in all of the bucolic beauty and charm around her. She had put much of it on canvas and when she had to do a country picture, she always used some of the region as a model.
It was early afternoon when she got the car unloaded and the supplies put away. She opened a can of beer and sipped at it as she began fixing some of the things that had been neglected in the kitchen. When she had everything straightened out, all the dishes washed and put away, she went into the room where she did her work and she began putting the pieces she was doing on the easels.
She wondered then if she had lost her architect. It was not considered the thing to do if rape occurred, to continue the association and to hire the man who did the rape job as an employee. She was sure that that sort of client-employee relationship was just not too popular these days. Or maybe she just didn't know about things as they were being done now.
She felt a keen sense of regret as she realized that she would rather have kept Bill Edwards for a friend. He was very nice, except when he became sexually aroused. Then he was a beast.
"You are a beast, too, babe," she said, aloud. "It was you who went right after his equipment. You are the one who took his stuff out of his trunks. I'll bet he doesn't even suspect what a lecherous little bitch you are. I'll bet he doesn't even know what the hell did happen."
She paused in front of her easel and she looked at the work that she had already done on the painting. There was still much to do and for a moment she wondered if she should stay and work instead of going into town to see a movie. She stopped that sort of thinking in a hurry. She didn't want to spend the evening alone in the house and she didn't want to stop and think about things any more than she had already done.
Her hands were cold and clammy and she remembered the way she had been affected by pain and she resolved to try to avoid situations where her affinity for pain and passion could be used against her. She was educated in psychology and she had read much about the pleasure-pain syndrome as a viable part of one's sexuality but she had never imagined that she could fall into that trap. And she had not been hurt much in the past, perhaps not at all.
She had led a sheltered life and no one had ever tried to hurt her. Yet, she was sure that the pain and passion that had become a part of her present interest in sensuality and carnal inclinations were not necessarily a new thing. Instead, she was only now beginning to learn about herself. This worried her.
She changed into warmer things for her drive into town and she was glad that she did because the area became much cooler when the sun went down and she was actually chilled during the drive to the restaurant.
They knew her at the eating place and she settled into a booth and ordered a light dinner and while she sat and ate it, she tried to free her mind of all of its fears and worries. She tried to believe that she was not becoming a moral leper or a bad girl. She was quite normal and a bit lonely, perhaps. She was quite relieved to discover that her mind and her thoughts were quite normal by the time she finished eating.
She felt a bit lonely and deprived when she bought her own ticket to the show, and she sat in the darkened theater watching the movie, wishing that she had had someone for company.
The movie was not nearly as good or as interesting as she had supposed and when it was over she took time out for some coffee and a small piece of cake at a local fountain. Then she began the drive home and as she passed many of the turnouts in the rural road and she saw the parked cars, she felt a bit neglected and a bit envious, too.
The night was clear and beautiful and she felt restless, not yet ready for bed so she sat up and sipped a drink on the back porch, and she tried counting stars for a time, then she sat and smoked several cigarettes while she tried to decide how she would do the work that would be waiting for her in the morning.
She knew that she was deliberately avoiding any thought of Bill Edwards. She didn't know what to do about him. She hoped that she wouldn't have to see him again and in time he would fade back into the same places that he had been before she ever met him.
That was as far as she was prepared to go right away.
When she was sure that she was tired and would probably sleep soundly and without dreams, she went to bed and to sleep. It seemed to her that the dreams began as soon as she closed her eyes. There was a pattern of sorts in her dreams and they were becoming worse and worse all the time.
There seemed to be a quality of fear and horror involved in the wild sexual scenes that she witnessed or participated in. And the things that happened to her seemed to take place when she was very young.
As her dream began she was alone in her bedroom in a house that was beside the sea in some distant and unidentified place. She was brushing her hair and she was trying to make herself pretty because her thirteenth birthday was about to happen and there was to be a big party. She wanted to be pretty for the party.
While she was brushing her hair and regarding herself in the big mirror she could see the budding breasts beneath her shift and she was pleased because they were quite large and sharply pointed so that they filled out her pink nylon bra quite nicely. She knew that the rest of her was very pretty too and when the handsome young boy and girl entered her room she smiled at them, welcoming them. The girl was a stunning brunette, at least as old as she was, and the boy was a big, strong looking fifteen. The boy was wearing a pair of jeans and the girl was wearing a loose shift. She stared at them and it was a look of inquiry, wondering what they were doing in her bedroom.
There was much sunshine so she was sure that it was morning and she saw nothing wrong in the fact that the two young people had invaded her room and her privacy. The girl came close to her and she touched the long golden hair and then she bent over and kissed it, lingering as her little hands felt the strands of hair.
"We have come to play with you," the brunette said. "I am Celeste and this is Henry. We will play with you all day."
Diane sighed and then she smiled up at the girl.
"Oh, I am so glad," she said. "I get so lonely and I do like company. I am very glad that you have come to play with me."
The brunette giggled and then she was helping Diane to stand on her feet. It seemed perfectly natural when the girl, Celeste, began taking her shift off and then she was standing naked in front of her two visitors and somehow then, Henry was naked, too, and she could see his big prong dripping with its juices and she laughed softly as she reached out and clasped his organ in her hand. She began moving her hand up and down and the drippings quickly made it all very slippery and she just sat and jerked him with a big smile on her face. Celeste was watching her and she seemed to be worried about something.
"He's going to come," Celeste said, "you'd better gobble it quick."
She seemed to know what Celeste was talking about and she bent her head and then Henry's prick was spilling into her mouth and she was tasting him, savoring the sweetness of his young loins and then she began swallowing him, and it seemed that the act of her swallowing him was stimulating and she just kept forcing more and more of his young sap from his shifting, squirming balls. She was blissfully happy and she was dimly aware that Celeste was naked by now, too, and she was kneeling on the floor in front of Diane's chair and when she felt the touch of the girl's fingers on her thighs, Diane let her legs fall apart and then she was thrilling to Celeste's touch in her most intimate flesh. Celeste was examining her rather carefully, interested in the structure of her sexual parts and quite willing to comment.
"You have a cute little cunt," Celeste said, "and you flow nicely. Sucking your little cunny can be lots of fun and you will just keep coming steadily and I will have a feast. I just know that I will have a feast."
And then she was able to feel the clinging young mouth, the hot flickering tongue and she was writhing and wriggling in quick ecstasy. Henry was patting her head and begging her to suck him harder, always harder and she was trying to oblige. His cock was deep in her mouth and she was using her tongue and her lips and a fierce suction and she was steadily swallowing his syrup and he was shaking violently, and then she felt the lovely sensations that Celeste's tongue was inducing in her and she began coming and Henry was flooding her mouth with a huge torrent as he came, too, and she knew that she was feasting as shamelessly as any libertine, or sexual vampire. She could feel her slender body shaking and shivering with delicious agonies and she was transported to a place of very special raptures and great joys.
The scene changed and she was lying upon her bed, her legs spread far apart so that Henry could lick her little slit while she visited with Celeste. The brunette was playing with Diane's breasts, remarking upon their beauty and she would kiss and lick them one at a time, in between her complimentary speeches and then she sucked one nipple until it tingled and hurt and she was amazed when the pain in her breasts forced her into coming and she filled Henry's hungry mouth with a drenching rivulet of nectar. She could feel his tongue sliding far up inside of her, seeking more and more of the sweetness that she had bestowed upon him. Then Celeste was kissing her and the girl's hands began roaming everywhere. She felt the swift, wild surge of extreme ecstasy as she came again and then things shifted and everything changed and they were angry with her.
She was on her hands and knees on top of Celeste and the girl was sucking her and she was angry because Diane had become dry and there was no honey for her to get. She heard Celeste speaking to Henry and she was telling him to fuck Diane and keep right on fucking her until she could stand no more. She was able to open her eyes and see Celeste's bald pubis in front of her mouth and then as she felt Henry's red hot organ sliding into her, tearing her, hurting her, she began coming all over again and there was lots of honey for the greedy Celeste. She touched her tongue to the wet, slippery valley of deep red that was between Celeste's legs and as soon as she tasted the nectar that was welling from the girl's little rosebud, she wriggled and squirmed and then she went absolutely wild with sheer erotic frenzy. Each time she was able to force Celeste's tiny organ into clenching, bursting splendor she regarded it as a brand new triumph and there came a time when everything blurred and they gave themselves up to the pure enjoyment of the senses and the glands and she could feel Henry fucking her in both places and while he was screwing her, Celeste's little tongue and hungry mouth teased her little clitoris and they all worked diligently and almost savagely, tearing at each other's parts, seeking more and more of the juices of love making as their reward.
Their orgy faded and then she was playing with Henry's stiff prick as he sat against the headboard and Celeste was teaching her how to lick it and delicately capture the little drops of goo that kept spilling from the tiny opening. She was learning how to make Henry's organ surrender its treasures even when it did not want to do it. Celeste was teaching her while Henry sat and played with Celeste's pretty little breasts and it seemed that each time the little brunette kissed Henry an extra large batch of his goo would spill out and she feasted upon it. Then she began sucking him and she shifted so that she was pushing her bottom against his face and then he was sucking her and playing with her dangling breasts while Celeste shifted so that she could lick and suck Henry's balls. Then Henry was erupting and she was nursing upon him avidly and then Henry was sitting alone and disconsolate while she and Celeste became locked into a fierce and liquid sixty nine. She liked the way Celeste tasted between her legs and she knew that Celeste liked the way that she tasted, too, and she knew that they would take turns exhausting Henry later on and it would all be heavenly and grand.
Then she was tired and afraid to rest. Celeste kissed her wetly, lingeringly on the mouth and she told Diane to sleep, but she shook her head and she was miserable.
"I'm afraid to go to sleep," she said. "I'm afraid that when I wake you will both be gone."
Celeste laughed at her and she sat back and opened her legs and Diane found herself staring at the deep red cleft of moistening flesh. She was bewitched by the sight of the brunette's crotch and she moved her stare with a great effort. Celeste laughed again in a very special way.
"We will not be gone," Celeste said. "We will be here when you wake and we will always be around."
"Oh," Diane said, breathlessly. "I am so glad."
"Of course you are, dear," Celeste said. "But, I do wish you would think about something very important. If you could save just one of us, which one would you choose? Henry or me?"
She slept then, but she was sure that her sleep was filled with terror and worry and when she woke she was alone. Celeste had lied to her and she was gone and so was Henry. She got out of her bed and she went into the bathroom and she sat down and when she heard the hissing, tinkling sound she realized that she was fully awake and the dream was a part of her past. She was glad that she had awakened and she began to think about the dream and try to make some sense out of it.
Why had she been so young? She had not been particularly excitable or very much interested in sex at that age. She was a gawky, too skinny young girl with a bookish stare and a dull outlook upon life. She knew all about masturbation at that age but it was something she did not do well at and she did it only when the pressures of a budding sexuality demanded some form of release.
It came to her as a surprise when she realized that she was not nearly so affronted by her own imaginings as she might have been. After all, she knew all about sex, the things that people could and did do, she knew about sodomy, and she supposed that she had always known about oral sex. Lately, when she became involved in her sessions of masturbation she would insert the handle of her hair brush into her rear while she used something else in the front opening. That's what the psychology books did for her. She read about human sexuality and she was not too surprised to read that half of the total population was said to be anally oriented sexually and could enjoy immensely rewarding thrills from that type of sex. She tried it out and discovered that the book was undoubtedly right and she was among those who could experience delicious sexual pleasures from anal excitation.
But she had not known any of those things at thirteen, or had she? She realized that she was having difficulty sorting out fantasy and reality and she also knew that she was now much too excited to sleep any more. She would have to have a cigarette or two and try to calm herself.
She went into the kitchen and switched on the light. She blinked as the bright light hurt her eyes. She fixed herself a cup of decaffeinated coffee and sat sipping at it for a long time. She looked at her watch and was not too surprised to learn that it was after four in the morning.
She was trembling and nothing seemed to calm her. She had to face reality and admit that she was remembering the details of her erotic dream with a great deal of pleasure and that, too, was something new. She found that she could achieve a certain amount of pleasure by remembering the things that she had done in an imaginary world. She knew, too, that sleep again would be impossible unless she did something quite candid about relieving the sexual excitements and yearnings that had built up within her. Her glands and endocrine system did not seem to know or to care that all of the things they had been stimulated by were only fragments of a dream. They would work just as well in any case."
Sensual excitement increased in her and she finally sighed, and decided that she would try to get as much sexual ecstasy out of what she knew she had to do. Maybe that way she would be able to sleep and get some rest.
She got to her feet and carried her coffee with her into the bathroom. She turned on the lights and she was immediately impressed by the sight of her body in nightclothes against the backdrop of the bright red carpeting in the bathroom. The glass on the door extended all the way to the floor and she could lie on the carpeting and watch her sexual writhings and agonies in the glass and enjoy it all so much more. She knew that there was a name for people like her and she knew, too, that many of the behavioral people considered such activities as quite harmless and so common that there was a word for it. She tried to remember the word but found that she was too excited to concentrate on anything so ridiculous as trying to remember a certain word.
She decided that she would run a hot tub and soak for a bit. She had learned that soaking in a hot tub opened all of her pores and made all of her body much more sensitive to tactile stimulations. When she dried herself and anointed her body with some of her more exotic scents and lotions she could bring her nerve endings to a state of screaming, seething excitation and then she would begin the languid, voluptuous manipulations and activities that would bring her so much exaggerated ecstasy. Even as she began running the water in the tub she began feeling the agonizing sense of shame, and very real sorrow and regret because of her venality.
She slipped out of her clothes and she stood for a time, gazing at her body's reflected glory. The lights gave a soft, golden patina to her skin and she could see a deepening shade of coral tinting her nipples and the small rosettes that shielded them. She could feel the seething, squirming sensations deep inside her body and she ached with the desire to slip her finger inside and make the swift, frenzied motions that would ease some of the torments in her for a short time, at least.
The temptation almost overwhelmed her but she resisted it, not because of any sense of sudden virture but because she knew that her sexual tensions could build to a higher, more intensely pleasurable crest if she did nothing to relieve their awful demands.
The tub filled quickly and she sprinkled the bath salts into the water. She stepped into the tub and the water was not nearly as hot as she would want it. She leaned forward and changed the valves and the water became hotter and hotter. The bathroom was filled with steam and favorite fragrances and she leaned back against the smooth end of the tub and began to relax while the hot water began its insidious work and her whole being took on a quality of great excitement. She soaped her hands and handled her firm, rubbery breasts with them and she realized, regretfully that she had outwitted herself because her handling of her over-stimulated breasts triggered a quick, frenzied orgasm in her and she lost much of the furious sensual agitation that she had been trying to build to a bursting pitch. She sighed and gave herself up to the needs of her body and she slipped her hand beneath the water, her knees parted and she began sliding her finger in and out of her vaginal canal, the puffy pad of her finger teasing and stimulating her eager clitoris in the process. She began to sob as excitement and splendor built up in her and then exploded with a massive, wrenching, climax that pushed her close to a fainting spell because of its exaggerated intensity.
The dream that she had experienced was affecting her body and her mind, she knew, and she was going to take full advantage of its inflammatory benefits. It took her a long time to regain her strength after several orgasms and when she stood and climbed out of the tub she could feel the tingling, crawling sensations on her skin. It was very warm in the bathroom and she aroused herself anew by towelling herself dry. She began putting some of the lotions on her body and some of the stronger ones that she used made her breasts smart and glow with swift erotic excitement. She settled down upon the bright red carpeting and she stared at the creamy whiteness of her body and she knew that it was a sight that she was enjoying and she knew, too, that she was becoming more and more aroused. She could feel the slippery wetness gathering and puddling at the threshold of her sexual orifice and she sensed that she was close to one of the massive sexual seizures that she could experience now. She hated herself for the quick, responsive convulsions that her body developed, and she was even more disgusted by the way her nerves and glands enjoyed the simple, uncomplicated bliss of sexual agitation.
In spite of the multiple orgasms she went through during her initial moments of play, she continued on, eventually lying on her back, legs apart, while the mirrors reflected the busy and inept movements of her hands and her fingers as they tried to stimulate already agitated flesh to a state of even greater splendor.
It seemed to her that she was becoming a dedicated hedonist, that nothing was enough for her. She was not at all satisfied with the initial pleasures that she had enjoyed and there had to be more. She tried for more, using the tube of lubricant that she had wisely placed upon the floor, close at hand. The hair brush was there too and she wondered how many females would realize that the long, rounded handle was ideally shaped for vaginal insertion. She slid it into her rear end and she began manipulating it with her left hand while her right did things to her clitoris and she began the wild, shifting, squirming convolutions that would bring her to the edge of exceptional orgasm and then beyond to a plateau of pure erotic ecstasy.
The hairbrush was arousing nerve and tissues to a screaming, riotous pitch of pure anguish and sensual joy and she suspected at that moment that the manufacturers of ladies' hairbrushes surely knew to what use they would be put and so they designed them accordingly. She felt herself cresting then, bursting, and as she began the devastating, bursting anguishes of extremely intense orgasm she knew a moment of gratitude to those who made hairbrushes.
They were such nice and clever people.
A moment later she slipped into the limbo of outraged sexual exploitation and she slept.
Right on the bathroom floor.
She was back in her dream with Bill Edwards.
Suddenly she was conscious of her burning rectum, and as she turned around she saw that his shit-streaked cock was still hard. His grinning face leered at her. "Want a taste?" he said.
Diane felt herself gag as she struggled to her feet. Bill laughed and stroked his cock with a thick fist. "Feels nice," he said. "Real nice."
Diane staggered to the bathroom and ran cold water in the basin. Why was this so unpleasant? She asked herself. What was this dream trying to tell her?
She returned to the living room and found that Bill Edwards was dressed, as if for business, with his tie loosened, his coat thrown over a chair. He was seated at a drawing board that had not been there a moment before.
In fact, as she looked around, Diane realized that it was not her living room, but a small studio-just the sort of place that a man like Bill would work in. He looked up as she came in.
"What can I do for you, Miss?" he asked. He clearly didn't seem to know her. Diane glanced down at herself. She was dressed in a conservatively cut business suit, with a skirt that reached her knees.
"I'd like to ask about remodeling my home."
"Have a seat. Be with you in a minute." He returned his attention to the plans spread out on the table as she sat down in a large leather chair by his desk. After a few moments he folded the plans and turned to her. "OK," he said. "What did you have in mind?"
As she opened her mouth to speak, Diane was aware that Bill's eyes were widening in surprise. She glanced down again and saw that she was sitting there, naked, with her legs open and inviting to his gaze. "I can see what you have in mind," he said with a leering grin. "And I can't tell you how happy I am about that!"
"Wait," she said, "I didn't mean to-" but he was already stepping out of his trousers. She watched in silence as he unbuttoned his shirt.
"What a way to start the day," Bill Edwards said. She noticed that his prick seemed even longer and thicker than it had before and she cringed as she thought of what that would do to her.
"C'mon," he said.
He led her into another room furnished with a day bed. He pushed her roughly onto it and she quickly rolled over onto her back. He grinned. "Any way you want it," he said.
She was surprised that he didn't order her to roll over onto her belly. "Just bring those legs up in the air," he said. She did as she was told.
He was on her in flash, wedging his thick body between her legs. She felt his nozzle flatten against her. "Higher," she whispered. "Higher."
But he was going no higher. He reached down between them and guided the head of his prick into her anal slit. "No!" she screamed. "Not that!"
But it was too late. With a muscular lunge he half-buried his cock in her tight and tender asshole as she involuntarily raised her legs even higher, arching her pubic area up so that, if anything, he had an even easier access to her smoldering hole.
She felt the burning ache as he filled her completely, and then the churning, burning pain as he began to pound himself in deeper.
She felt his balls banging against her buttocks as he whipped it on and out, oblivious to the pain that he was causing her. She knew that she was bleeding but nothing was going to stop him. She knew that it was senseless to resist. He might kill her if she angered him, and she was determined to live and to exact her revenge on this animal-even though it was only a dream. Or was it?
CHAPTER THREE
She woke up in the morning in her bed. She realized, as memory began to work, that she had awakened during the dawn hours on the bathroom floor and she had made the shift to her bed, then she had returned to a deep slumber, her body calmed and sated temporarily by the rigorous routines she had enjoyed during the hectic night.
The usual feelings of shame and outrage were at work in her, actually making her skin crawl and prickle as she remembered the things that she had done.
She got up and when she went into the bathroom she found the hairbrush on the floor, its handle covered with the lubricant. She washed it thoroughly in the basin, and after she took care of her usual morning duties, she stepped into the shower and as the stinging spray beat down upon her taut skin she could feel the vague stirrings of her sexuality beginning anew. She shook her head and felt the sting of tears against her lids as a sense of outrage almost swamped her.
"Not again," she whimpered. "Not again, please."
She reached out and twisted the cold water valve and then she was prancing and shivering as the cold water drenched her and drove all thoughts of sexual play from her mind.
She dressed in casual clothes, shorts, a halter and sandals and she carried a cup of black coffee with her to the place where she was now doing her work. She sat and stared at the drawing she was working on at the moment and while she smoked a cigarette and tried to sort things out in her mind, she decided how she was going to complete the drawing and she jumped up and began working.
Her coffee became stone cold and the clock raced on and when she finally decided that she was finished with the work, she stepped back and examined it carefully. She glanced at the tiny watch on her wrist and she was shocked to see that it was well after two in the afternoon. She had worked for many hours without any food and now that the work was done her hunger set in and she was ravenous.
She went into her kitchen and she began fixing a sandwich and a glass of milk for herself. She had just started on the food when someone rapped on the back door and she sat for a moment, surprised, unable to understand how anyone could have gotten onto her property. She got up and opened the door and Bill Edwards was standing outside, a waterproof package in his hand. It was the most un-likely guest, she thought. He wore trunks and his parcel was the sort of package the newspaper makes on rainy days and she just glanced at him, then she looked at him. He was not smiling.
"Hello," he said. "I hoped that you would still speak to me and let me show you some sketches I made for you."
"I didn't hire you," she said, standing still, holding on to the doorknob, ready to close the door in his face.
"I thought perhaps you might," he said. He smiled and it was like a sunbeam cutting through a cloudy day. She was overwhelmingly tempted to respond with a smile and that infuriated her.
"Have you raped your quota of women for the day?" she asked.
He stopped smiling. "I have had a couple of them so far, but it wasn't rape. I was just being obliging."
She was tempted to slam the door in his face, to tell him to go and oblige some other girl, but she was curious about the sketches. She knew that he was a very busy and talented architect and it was generous of him to take the time to do some drawings.
"Are you going to let me in?" he asked.
She was going to make a smart remark about rape and assault and she just didn't do it. She stepped back into her kitchen and he walked inside. She was conscious of his height and bulk as he stood just inside her doorway. She pushed it closed.
"I'll get you some coffee," she said, "and then you can show me what you have done."
"Thank you," he said.
They were suddenly stiffly formal with each other and she was embarrassed and decidedly uncomfortable once they were both inside the house and alone with each other.
"Wouldn't you like your coffee on the back porch?" she asked. "That way we can look at the plans and talk and see what we are discussing."
He nodded and then he opened the door again and stepped out into the brilliant afternoon sunshine.
She followed him, carrying some cups and things that she would need. He was settled in one of the skimpy chairs and he lit a cigarette and then began unwrapping the plans that he had made. She went back inside to fetch the coffee pot and then she joined him at the table on the back porch. She glanced at him at a time when his attention was busy with spreading out the drawings that he had made. She examined each line and plane of his face, his soft, full lips, the determined look of his chin and she realized that he was very handsome, very virile and powerful looking.
She realized, too, that she hated him.
He was staring at her, aware that she was inspecting him quite intently. She met the look in his big brown eyes and she could see that he was not in a frivolous mood.
"I'm sorry about what happened," he said. "I don't know how to make amends. I am not like that usually. But, all that I can hope is that you will forgive me and perhaps we can be friends."
She didn't know what to say to him. He was apologizing for something that was as much her fault as it was his, but she just didn't know what to say to him. She changed the subject.
"Isn't it unusual to make up drawings on spec?" she asked.
He gazed into her eyes and she was sure that he liked her and he almost smiled. "When you have raped a very lovely young girl," he said, "it is the least a man can do."
"Yes," she said. Her face was flushed she knew and she hated him anew with a fresh burst of anger. He was maddening and hateful and utterly adorable and she wished that she had never met him. She poured some coffee into their cups and when she put the pot down she noticed that she was trembling.
He spread the drawings out and she became interested immediately. She looked over the detailed work that he had done and she was very much impressed by the manner in which he had thoughtfully arranged for built in cabinets and space for all of the equipment that she could possibly need. He had done an excellent job and in an amazingly short span of time.
"You have done it exactly as I had imagined it," she said. "I am very grateful. Thank you."
Gravely, he said, "Does that mean that I have the job?"
"Yes," she said. "I am sure that you will handle the cost factor as a part of your work. I will leave that up to you."
He told her what the addition would cost and she was a bit surprised. She had supposed that it would be much more expensive. He explained that his association with a local contractor and builder made it possible for him to get his jobs done at minimum cost. They talked of his work and her work and then she offered to make some fresh coffee and he turned that offer down.
"I have a better idea," he said. "We are going to work together, and hopefully, we will be friends, why don't you let me take you out to dinner? I would like that very much."
She smiled. "You'd miss an orgy at your place?"
He shrugged. "It goes on and on. It is like a continuous movie. Come in at any place and you can just go on from there."
"How can people be like that?" she said. "They are just like animals, really."
"People are animals," he said. "It is a serious mistake to ever think of them as anything else. They are animals and that is all there is to it."
She was about to protest, to insist that he had to be wrong and then she remembered the intimate experiences she had had with him and she remembered too that she had assaulted him, actually. Her hands had opened his fly and grasped his erect organ. Her dainty little fingers had fondled his parts with sensual fervor and pure carnal lust. She didn't know what to say after she remembered the way things had been.
"I am not very fond of people, as a rule," he said. "I do like you, and if I did anything to upset you or harm you, I am very sorry."
"Stop feeling like that," she said. "I was just as much to blame as you were. I'm sure that I was."
"Does that mean that you will have dinner with me?"
She smiled and nodded. "Yes," she said.
They talked some more and he told her that he would pick her up at about seven, which was a few hours away. She told him that she would take a nap so she would be refreshed and able to enjoy dinner in town.
"How do I get in here?" he asked. "I can't keep on swimming over here. That's what I do, you know?"
"I know what you do," she said. "There's a key for the gates hidden under the mailbox. Just lift it up a bit. But, lock the gates behind you. Otherwise I get all sorts of salesmen and I don't really have time for them."
They talked about the work of adding a studio on to the house and he promised that the work could be begun within a few days once she was sure that the drawings were right and the permits had been secured. When he left her, she walked with him to the edge of the lake and they stood for a moment, while he gazed at her with very evident admiration.
"You know," he said; smiling, "I guess maybe our experience could have been your fault, after all. You are lovely beyond belief."
His words embarrassed her and she pushed him, he wavered and then splashed into the water. He stood and she could see the outline on his genitals beneath the wet fabric of his trunks and she hated herself for looking at him there.
"You go home," she told him. "I'll see you later."
He grinned at her and dove beneath the waters of the calm lake. He surfaced some distance away and then began swimming the short distance that would carry him to the edge of his own place. She turned and walked back toward the house and she was conscious of a. brand new sensation in her loins; a seething; burning heaviness, and she wondered if being near him could arouse her so easily. She decided not to think about it.
There was some coffee in her cup and she sat and finished that. She smoked a couple of cigarettes and she opened the drawings that he had made for her and she examined them very carefully. He had done a splendid job on very short notice and she was grateful to him. She liked him, in a way. And she was glad of company for dinner.
Thinking about her date with Bill Edwards, she was sure that she spent too much of her time alone. She had the tendency to let her work become the most important element in her existence and that was very wrong. No girl should try to be a loner, she thought, and if she was pretty and young, she should have company. Male company.
She remembered her frigidity, the way she felt about romance and sex and the hopeless inability to do anything about it made her desolate. She went to her bedroom and she began getting out of her clothes. She intended to take a shower and then lie down.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed was a tactical error. She was overcome by weariness and she realized that her bones ached with tiredness. She decided that she would just lie down and rest her eyes for a moment or two. She was not even aware of falling asleep.
The doorbell woke her and she sat up, trying to unscramble her brains, trying to cope with reality. She looked at the clock and saw that it was just about seven. She was stark naked and she was not at all with things. She yawned and then stood up. She put her robe on and when she opened the door, Bill Edwards, very casual and handsome in sports clothes, stood on the front porch, leaning against the door jamb, watching her with an accusing stare that he was working on very diligently. He looked like he wanted to smile.
"You fell asleep," he said.
"It isn't like I robbed a bank," she said. "I was only going to rest my back and my eyes and you know what happened."
"Sure," he said. He walked inside and she stepped backwards. He closed the door behind him and then he reached for her. He caught her hands and he pulled her close. She was sleepy, a bit moist and humid and not entirely alert and she began fighting him just on general principles. He held her tightly, not willing to accept defeat so quickly.
"I am only going to kiss you," he said. "You look so cute and so defenseless, it is just something that I want to do. You don't have to fight it."
"Want to bet?" she said, almost angry.
He found her mouth and his lips crawled and squirmed on her soft mouth and then she was shivering and whimpering as she began fighting him desperately. She did not know exactly what she was fighting but she knew that she was reacting indecently to his kiss, she knew, too, that she loved being in his arms, she was thrilling to his touch and when he continued to kiss her, she became disorganized, ardent and suddenly she was thrusting her tongue into his mouth as their lips clung and worked against each other, seeking, tasting, thrilling, and when a massive sob escaped her, she thrust him away from her with a vicious shove. She was weeping, and her chest was heaving as she struggled for breath and she struggled to pull the flaps of her faded robe together. She was ablaze with an insensate anger and rising passions and she was very busy hating him again. Hers was a hatred born of fear and she knew it and that only made things worse. He was starting at her, trying to understand her agitation.
"Leave me alone," she snarled. "I only promised to go to dinner with you. I didn't promise to go to bed with you. Only dinner."
"Let's try for both," he said. He was very solemn as he moved toward her, stalking her. "You are a very wonderful girl, but you are so far out of whack over this sex business you are ridiculous. It isn't really that important. Now, you come here to me and you be a good girl and you won't get hurt."
She glared at him, her nostrils flared, her whole being ablaze with passions and angers and fears.
"You want to rape me again, is that it?" she demanded.
He nodded. She was backpedaling, trying to avoid him but he backed her into a corner and then she was helpless. He moved close to her, his arms went around her and he held her tightly as she shivered and wriggled in his arms, trying to get away. He kissed her and his lips were warm and moist and infinitely gentle. She was responding to his gentleness and her mouth moved and worked with an eagerness that amazed her. Her back was against the wall and when he put his hands on the bulges in her robe there was nothing that she could do to stop him, or if there was, it did not occur to her at that particular time. Her body was raging and seething with brand new sensations and when she felt his touch on her bosom she moaned and squirmed herself tighter against him. His lips were busy with her mouth, her lips, her hair and then she felt his fingers sliding inside of her robe. He caught the naked fullness of her breasts in his fingers and she whimpered tiny little sounds of protest and he seemed not to hear her. He took his hands away and then he was lifting her and she lay in his arms like a sack of meal, too inert, to overcome by her own passions to fight him any more.
He brought her to her bed and when he placed her down on the covers, she opened her eyes and she was startled to see that look of affection and adoration that was in his face and in his eyes. She didn't think too much about it, she wriggled into a position of comfort and she seemed to have the notion that she was going to sleep but when he opened her robe and she realized that he was staring at her naked body, her senses became alerted and she sat up, her hands automatically shielding her breasts, her legs closing against the profane gaze of others.
He smiled at her, his hands pushed her back against the covers and she tried to elude him, but she could not. He bent and then he was kissing her and his wet mouth crawled and wriggled its way all over her luscious breasts and when he sucked one of her over-stimulated nipples into his mouth and the tip of his tongue teased the very tip of her delicate flesh, she groaned and then she reacted with a massive orgasm. She was helpless, unable to disguise her reactions to his touch. She knew that he was aware of what he was able to do to her. He knew that she was experiencing lovely climaxes and he became busy with his hands as well as his mouth. She felt a sudden, demoralizing sense of shame when she realized that she was actually opening her legs to him, she writhed in exquisite splendor as his finger slipped into her depths and his experienced thumb did marvelous things to her clitoris. She was burying her face in his neck whenever his head was close to her own and she was whimpering, sobbing, weeping and climaxing with an exceptional period of sweet sensuality and intense sexual pleasures.
She knew that he was going to use her again, but she did not know how she could avert anything. She was not entirely alive, not at all alert to anything except rapture and for the time being she did not want to have to cope with anything else. She knew it when he moved his head downwards and she could feel his wet kisses on the smoothness of her belly and she knew, instinctively what he was going to do to her and she began crying out in protest.
"No," she whimpered. "Please, no. Don't do that to me."
He was deaf to her, and she kept on begging him to stop, but she was to remember later that when his mouth began its slippery pilgrimage towards her sexual flesh she opened her legs as far as she could and when she felt his tongue teasing her blazing tissues, she reacted with an enormous orgasm that drenched her sexual parts and when his tongue teased her little sentinel and his hands moulded and caressed her bottom, she behaved as powerfully as any libertine, she was again the bitch in heat and she reached out blindly, seeking him. Her hand found his crotch and she dealt with zipper and clinging shorts and then she was handling his immense erection and the swollen, shifting balls beneath. She was half crazed with erotic sensations and each time his tongue shifted its area of assault she responded with a brand new orgasm. Each one was different from the others and she was learning new and differing thrills and lovely sensual ecstasies flooded her whole being.
She was finally exhausted by his clinging mouth and expert tongue and she whimpered protest as her flesh became too sensitive for further stimulation. She pushed his head away and he did not resist her. She was a sprawled, exhausted bundle and she was unable to move. She knew that he was getting undressed and she wished that he would not. She just wanted him to leave her alone, to go away, but she knew that he would not do that.
He settled himself down upon her and he was naked and she grasped his throbbing prong and she was never sure how it got into her. She was sure that he guided it into her, then she was sure that she did it herself, but very quickly, everything became too confused and then she was feeling him as his organ crept into her body.
Blazing, demanding sensations claimed her and she slammed her hips tightly against him, trying to absorb every millimeter of his organ. She was shifting and moving her hips and she was busy with a whole new brand of sexual excitement and magnificent splendors. She was making horrible, loud sounds in her throat and each time they plunged toward each other the meaty sounds of shocking impact were loud and exciting in the room and she knew that she was soaring, screeching and sobbing as she struggled toward a new and wondrous place and then she was clutching him tightly, her nails tearing the smooth skin of his back while her heels were digging cruelly into his waist. She could hear the crazy, fragmented words she was uttering and she was filled with a quick shame, a time of hideous helplessness and she heard herself begging him to give it to her, to please do it, please drive her into paradise and then she was exploding, her flesh was clenching and squeezing and spilling its juices and ecstasy too powerful to contain swept through her and she screamed.
He was spending too, his organ pulsing and spurting fiercely within her depths and she shook violently, her screams turned into moans of excruciating pleasure and then she went limp, her strengths drained from her, her body too weak and abused to be of any use to her. He was lying on top of her and she could feel his weight and it was a good feeling and she was sure that she was asleep.
"I love you, Baby," he said, softly, and she heard it and then she knew that she had fallen asleep. How could he love her? He didn't even know her. Not really.
And, if he ever got to know her, he wouldn't like her. She didn't like herself. She knew what she was. He would know what she was, too.
She was sound asleep and she had the oddest sensation of being kissed and petted and loved. She could feel the gentle touch of adoring fingers in her breasts and she could taste the sweetness of many kisses and she whimpered in her sleep and her legs shifted and moved as the rigors of intense sensual pleasure made her body react. And then she became aware of what was taking place and she sat up, awake and alert and affronted. He was beside her on her own bed and he was naked and she was naked, too, and she had been used again by him and she was close to the thin edge of hysteria. He did just as he pleased with her and she had nothing to say about it and she was half out of her mind with senses that were always betraying her. He ignored her efforts to push him away. He pulled her into his arms and he went right on kissing her and she began to respond and she hated herself for being so easily led. Or was it misled?
Somehow, her fingers found his stiff member and she began manipulating his organ without being aware that she was doing it. His fingers were again teasing and outraging her most intimate flesh and then he was trying to move himself into her again and she would not permit that.
"At least let me wash," she said, frantically.
He kissed her mouth again and whispered the words against her swollen lips. "I did it for you while you slept, now, hush."
She did not utter the words, but they flashed through her mind. "There's mighty nice service in this hotel," she thought. Then she was surrendering to him again, eager for the frenzied, fantastic thrills that she experienced as they battled the age old fight for sexual fullfilment and serenity.
And it was even better for the second time. It lasted so much longer and she drifted on many tides of great agitation and joy and each time she crested and her orgasms shook her with ever increasing savagery a brand new touch of glory heightened her experiences and when he joined her in a great, bursting culmination of ultimate sensations, she slid close to the rim of unconsciousness again, and she wept, torn and disorganized by a body that simply would not comply with her dictates.
He held her for a long time while the raging flames died down and each of them retreated into a private world of cooling fires and languid splendor. He recovered finally and then she felt his organ leaving her body and she wished that she could keep him right there forever. But, once he was gone and the purity of her person was returned to her she was determined that she would never again be susceptible to his assaults. She was not sure just what rape implied but she supposed that it had something to do with a man forcing himself upon an unwilling girl. If that was the way it was, then she had been raped, but she didn't intend to discuss it with him. She didn't intend to discuss it with anyone.
"We'd better get cleaned up." he said. "Our reservation is for nine thirty. So, we'd better hurry."
She was not able to answer him. She simply could not suppose that he would still want to take her out to dinner, but that was his intention, it appeared. Too, the fact that she was upset, seething with affronted dignity, and convinced that she had again been forced beyond her personal preferences meant nothing. A period of post mortem chagrin set in and she was disgusted with her own susceptibility. She began to cry and that was wasted effort because he got out of the bed and he left her to go into the bathroom. She heard the hissing sound of the shower and she wondered how he could be so much at home in her bedroom. and at home in her body, too. She was filled with a sense of outrage all of the time whenever she thought of him and the way he behaved with her.
He came into the bedroom, one of her best bath towels around his middle and she knew that he was not concerned with modesty. He was using the towel to get himself dry. He stood looking down at her and when she tried to cover herself, he laughed at her. He reached down and caught her wrists and he pulled her off of the bed and she was standing, leaning against him, still weeping, still emotionally disorganized. He didn't seem to care or to notice.
"You need a shower, too," he said. "You come along with me."
He maneuvered her into the bathroom and then she was standing in the shower with the warm water drenching her. He was using his bare hands and the bar of soap to wash her and he seemed to spend a lot of time washing her breasts and her buttocks and the slippery flesh between her legs. She was too weary to fight him and she knew that her own body was again betraying her. He had hurt her wrists when he pulled her from the bed and she was beginning to feel new surges of extreme sexual desires. He turned her around and she was facing him and her hands went to his own soapy loins and she began playing with his stiff cock. He pulled her into his embrace and then he was parting her legs and a moment later she was dancing on her toes as she felt his hard organ sliding up inside of her again. Her nerves and tissues were extremely alert to sensation and when he grasped her plump round buttocks and held her impaled upon his cock she gasped as a sudden onslaught of fierce sexual joy swept through her and then she was coming, drenching his pistoning cock, and he seemed to become inexhaustible, stronger and stronger, and while she crested from one orgasm to another, he kept on shoving himself up inside of her and she continued to move around and provide more than enough sexual friction to set them both off.
He put his arms around her waist and she clung to him in pure reflex action as her whole midsection began to glow and seethe with exaggerated sexual excitements. He was about to erupt into orgasm and she knew that he could sense her own proximity to orgasm and that seemed to affect him. He hung on to her and she wrapped her legs around his body and then they were shaking violently and their bodies were enjoying the convulsive agonies of sexual fulfillment and she could feel the giddy weaknesses in her body and her legs and when he stumbled out of the shower with her still locked in place around his hips she knew a moment of horror and utter degradation, a time when she realized that she would always be helpless when he put his hands on her and began to use her. She saw her own reflection in the full length mirror and the sight of her own naked body wrapped around his naked body was decidedly exhilarating and she was a bit unnerved when she saw the way her legs were wrapped around his middle and her bare bottom was split by the insertion of his cock. In spite of their shower and the attempt at cleanliness, she could see the juices they had excreted or expelled, seeping out of her bottom. The material was drenching his balls and his thighs and she wriggled herself more contentedly and comfortably upon his stiff prong. She wondered why he hadn't lost interest and then she saw that he was looking into the mirror, too. She met his gaze and then she buried her face in his neck and she clung to him fiercely.
"We've got to stop," she said. "Please let me go."
He kissed her lips and then he helped her to unwind and when she was standing she could feel the way her knees quivered and a heavy feeling of weakness was everywhere in her body.
"You'll be all right," he told her. "But you'd better get back into the shower. You need a bath."
"You, too," she said. "I think I leaked all over you."
"You can leak all over me any time," he said, gravely. He took her hand and they stepped back into the shower and she realized that taking a shower with company could be quite nice. There was something companionable and charming about such activities.
He insisted upon helping her to get clean and she had to push him away again and again because she knew that they would never got the the restaurant and dinner if she didn't make him go away, and she was determined that they were going to the restaurant.
She was suddenly starving.
CHAPTER FOUR
There was a very special magic in the night for her, and as she and Bill Edwards drove through the warm country roads, they maintained a companionable silence and Diane realized that she was very much at ease with him and that was very unusual for her. Most men made her nervous, especially when she knew that they were after just one thing when they took a girl out to dinner.
She sat in the car seat gazing at Bill Edward's nice face and she decided that she would have to reorganize her thinking because he had already achieved what most men sought and he still wanted to take her to dinner. He caught her looking at him and he smiled.
"You look breathtakingly lovely, Diane," he said. "It is all right to call you Diane?"
She laughed at that "My God," she said, "you've done everything else to me. Now you worry about using my first name."
"Silly, isn't it," he said, laughing with her.
It was such a nice night, such a nice ride, she was a bit sorry when they reached the restaurant. They all seemed to know him quite well in the big place and the maitre d' seemed glad to see him. They had a booth in a quiet section of the big room and he ordered drinks for them and then they danced while they waited for their food. He was an excellent dancer and the weakness that she had felt in her knees and her legs was gone. She found that she was having a very good time and she was enjoying herself and that was very unusual for her.
When they were eating, he glanced at her and then he smiled and gazed at her a bit more intently. He seemed to like what he was seeing.
"You should get out more often," he said. "You look to be radiantly happy and you are so very pretty. I hope you are having a nice time."
His words were sincere, so much so that she blushed and she felt girlish and shy and decidedly uncomfortable. He reached out and touched the back of her hand and it was a gentle touch. She was unnerved by his gallantry. She was better able to cope with things if they were on a more impersonal plane. She was not too accustomed to compliments, especially from young men who had already gained all that a girl could give.
"I am having a nice time," she said, shyly. "I don't know why."
"I know why," he said. "You are getting away from work for a change. I have heard it said that you work much too hard, much too often. Perhaps you should take time out for fun once in a while. You really should."
She gave him a crooked grin as she said, "I agree, but, I don't think that I would be here now if you hadn't bullied me into coming with you. You are a big bully."
"Sure am," he said. "You're finished with dinner. Let's dance."
They had some more drinks and then he took her out into the night and they walked along a country pathway that bordered on a big lake. The water shimmered beneath a bright moon and it looked like a vast pool of glittering gold leaves. The warmth of the night, the beauty of the area and the soft music coming from inside the restaurant began to affect her and when he took her into his arms and he kissed her he tasted the wetness of tears and he was amazed.
He held her in his arms and she was trembling and she could not explain to him. It was too complicated but in spite of everything she was filled with a sense of happiness and well being and it was more than she could endure. And so she wept and could not explain why. He did not make her explain. When she was finished with tears, he held her hand and they walked and smoked cigarettes and when it was very late they went back inside the restaurant and they had some coffee and then he drove her home.
She was very tired when they finally parked in front of her door. She let him hold her for a moment or two and when he kissed her good night she was able to respond. She decided that she liked him and when she thanked him for a very pleasant evening, she meant every word of it.
"We'll do it again," he said. "You are very good company."
She let him kiss her one more time and then she went inside and he drove off and she knew that he would have the dreary business of the gates to fool with and she felt a moment of sympathy for him. Then she remembered the earlier hours of their association and she stopped feeling sorry for him. He had done very nicely for one evening.
When she stood in front of her mirror and she was naked, or practically so, in her gossamer nightie, she grinned at her image.
"You did pretty well, too. Girl," she said. "Maybe there is hope for you after all."
She climbed into her bed and she was asleep in seconds.
It was broad daylight in her bedroom when she opened her eyes and she knew that she had slept well. She stretched her arms up and she could feel the slippery muscles working and expanding and a general feeling of euphoria cheered her. She lit a cigarette and when she glanced at the clock she saw that it was only a short time after seven. That was good. She had lots of work to do and she would have some coffee and a shower and when she was awake, she would begin working. She wondered if Bill Edwards would call her that day and she thought about that for a while.
"Of course he'll call you, Ninny," she said. "He likes you and he is going to add the room on for you. He will have to come and visit so that the work can get started."
When she thought about seeing Bill Edwards again a rising tide of excitement made her weak. She decided that it was time she got out of bed and stopped thinking about Bill Edwards.
"He goes around raping girls," she said, aloud. "Then he takes them out to dinner and gives them the most wonderful night they have ever had. We must not let him get away."
She stepped into the shower and when she washed her breasts she triggered sensual responses in her body and she was suddenly boiling with sexual excitements and she slipped her fingers down between her legs and the speed with which she accomplished her orgasm dismayed her.
"You are becoming pretty damned expert," she said bitterly.
The excitement that was in her would not quit and she used her fingers to trigger several, quick, frenzied spasms in her loins. And then she was finally calm, she stepped out of the shower and dried her body. Inspecting her person in the mirror delighted her because she knew that she had a beautiful body. Her breasts were truly superb, thrusting impudently upwards, the delicate touch of fullness beneath them not yet making them plump. The rosettes were tiny discs of pale pink skin, the nipples little pieces of palest coral. She watched the nipples deepen in color and then they were standing straight out, tingling with quick interest. She cupped her breasts in her palms and her own touch was exciting and stimulating to her. She was trembling and her breathing was shallow, inadequate and the excitement that was growing in her became more intense and devastating and she let go of her breasts. Then she pressed her palms against her lower belly and as she pushed them downward, following the triangular trench of body junctures, she felt the softness of her pale blonde pubic hair and then she was sliding her finger into the inflamed canal and she watched her reflection as the rigors of orgasm began and shook her beautiful body with uncaring cruelty.
She refused to become servant to her own carnal urgings and she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She was able to think properly after that.
Breakfast was a cup of black coffee and while she sipped at it and smoked, she reviewed the work that would have to be done. Laziness was trying to seduce her and she thought about the warm waters of the lake and the fun that she could have if she went for a swim and she was still debating the matter when her telephone rang. She answered it after the first ring, assuming that it would be Bill Edwards. She was wrong.
It was George Pell and he wanted to talk her into coming into town immediately.
"I have got to have that drawing you promised me," he told her. "I need it like now. If you will drive into town and bring it I will spring for lunch."
"How do you know it's done?" she asked.
"I know you, doll," George Pell said. "It is done isn't it?"
"Yes," she said. "But, I don't understand. You said that we would have plenty of time for me to do it and bring it in. You promised."
He laughed at the way she sounded.
"They switched schedules on me, Doll. That's why I have got to have the drawing. Do be a dear sweet girl and bring it in."
"All right," she said.
There was a time of silence while the crackling sounds waned and a general clarity that no one was using ensued on the line.
"I'm sorry, Doll," George Pell said, and he sounded sincere.
"It's all right, George," she said. "I want to stop off at my place and get some other clothes to bring back with me."
"You've met Bill Edwards," he said.
"You are so perceptive, George," she said. "But, you are right. I did meet him. Now, I am going to charm the living hell out of that bastard and I need the clothes to do it with."
"Good," George said. "I'll wait for you and we'll have lunch."
She cradled the telephone and she thought of calling Bill Edwards so that he wouldn't expect to find her at home. She changed her mind and decided that she would just get dressed, load the work into her car and take it into the city without saying anything to her amorous neighbor.
The drive into the city was not too long and she actually enjoyed it once she got onto the highway. George Pell was waiting for her and he stood in his office with her, inspecting the work that she had done and she could see from the expression on his face that he was pleased with what she had done. He told her so, finally and then he took her to lunch and they talked about business, and the things that she still had to do for him and his books and then they talked a bit about Bill Edwards and she learned that George was very fond of the young architect.
George Pell was a pudgy man with a bald head, a smelly pipe and calm, interested blue eyes. Somewhere he had a wife and children, she knew, and he went home to them every night after work and he seemed to be so solid, so respectable. She wondered idly, what he would think of her if he knew what she had been doing with his friend. She didn't think that he would mind, somehow. George Pell was a quiet man, capable and likeable. She patted his hand and sipped her coffee and listened while he told her about the shift in publication schedules that had brought her to the city.
She got away from him after a while and then she drove to her apartment. It was late afternoon and she was glad of the quiet in the apartment. She decided that she might stay overnight and drive up to the country in the morning. That way she could check her wardrobe and she could dig out some slinky and endearing duds.
With a highball in its glass beside her, she began going through her clothes and doing so made her realize that it had been a long time since she had actually done any dating, or going out to the nice places for dinner and dancing. And. if Bill Edwards asked her to go out with him again, she wanted to be ready and she wanted to have clothes that did nice things for her.
She packed a bag with some of her prettier clothes and then she began rummaging through her drawers for some wispy lingerie and it was while she was looking for pretty underthings that she came upon the class book that she had buried under clothing for many years now. Somehow, she was sure that she was able now to go through the book and not be hurt when she came upon Myrna's picture, or Earl's. She was sure that she could regard them now as simply people she had known in her past.
She sat with her legs under her on her bedroom floor and she began leafing through the book. She knew exactly where Earl's picture was. and she knew, too, exactly where Myrna's picture was but she leafed through the book, wondering if she would feel the old familiar impact that she had always experienced when she looked at their pictures. She hoped that she would be all right now and that they would just be faces in a high school year book and nothing else. She didn't even hate them any more. They were just young people that she didn't want to know any more.
Maybe they were responsible for the frigidity and sexual inhibitions that had plagued her and almost destroyed her.
They had done awful things to her and she had been helpless to resist them. She had to accept whatever they did to her and even now she could develope a case of the shakes just thinking about the days of association with Earl and Myrna.
They had been the kids next door and they were brother and sister. Earl had been fourteen and Myrna had been thirteen when she first began playing with them. Myrna had been a little doll-like creature, with a small, compact body and big blue eyes. At the time, Diane had been two years older than Myrna but the younger girl was much more developed with sharply pointed breasts and wide hips and curved haunches. Myrna was very pretty and she virtually dominated her brother, Earl.
Diane's parents were busy people and they were often away and she had to manage with a housekeeper, but Diane adored her father and she made no secret of the way she felt about him. Therefore, she supposed now, she was vulnerable and easily subjugated when Myrna decided that she could enjoy having a docile, eager to please slave to amuse herself with. Myrna wound up with two slaves because she eventually dominated Earl and forced him into all sorts of acts, and even now she felt sorry for Earl, but he had been weak and she had been weak and Myrna had taken advantage of their timidity and she became a tyrant, a demanding, insatiable princess who required her two hapless victims to perform all sorts of sexual excesses. Thinking about her life with Earl and Myrna she could begin to understand how her own frigidity and her other sexual hangups had begun.
But, perhaps there was hope for her now. She had come a long way along the road of sensual acceptance. Too, she was able to think of the things that she and the others had done without becoming ill, That was a big improvement over the way she had been for so many years.
She flipped one of the pages in the year book and she knew that when she turned the next page she would be looking at Myrna's pretty face, with the big eyes staring at her from across a limbo of many unhappy years.
Oddly enough, she began to think of the way things happened when she began being friends with Myrna and even now, when she had to admit that she had been easily seduced and just as easily corrupted, she could feel her face flaming as her body and her glands reacted to the pictures that flooded her brain.
Myrna was not the sort of girl she might have chosen for a girl friend, but she was all that was handy and she and the little blonde doll met and talked in the neighborhood stores and when Myrna asked her to visit, she did it.
She met Earl and she liked him. It seemed horrible to her that Myrna who was just a kid, really, should order her older brother around all the time, but it was none of her business and she kept her thoughts to herself.
Myrna's father was a doctor and he was never at home. He spent most of his time in his office and the hospitals he worked in, and Myrna's mother had deserted the family many years earlier. The house that Myrna and Earl lived in was a big one and they seemed to get along very nicely without supervision.
Myrna always had interesting things to do and she began to value the younger girl's friendship and association. One thing about Myrna had always bothered her and that was the little blonde's interest in sex. That was all that she ever wanted to talk about and when she insisted upon discussing masturbation with Diane, she remembered that she had been very reluctant to talk about such things.
Myrna was very confidential and she told Diane that she was always playing with herself whenever she got the chance. She just went ape once the fires and flames began raging in her and she just enjoyed making her body please her with outlandish thrills and rich sensual experiences. Diane said that she did not masturbate and Myrna just laughed at her.
"That just isn't true, honey," Myrna said. "All girls do it. I can crack open any of my father's books and they say so."
Diane insisted that she was not one of those girls who did pet themselves and she was never going to do anything like that, books or no books. Myrna just laughed at her and they talked of other things.
Diane got into the habit of going to Myrna's house every day after school and she would sometimes stay and have dinner with the doctor's kids. Myrna was a good cook and she helped fix the food and clean up afterwards. Earl was a big boy, large, she supposed for his tender age, and he was a shutter bug. He had all sorts of cameras and a dark room and he was usually busy in there so she and Myrna spent a lot of time together.
One Saturday morning she went over to Myrna's and she found her at the kitchen table having some coffee and smoking a cigarette. Myrna was much too young to smoke but no one cared. She took a cigarette too, and she was sort of glad when Earl came out of his room and joined them for some breakfast. He was a nice looking young man and each time she saw his picture in the year book she was amazed at how little he had changed from the days when she first knew him.
When she remembered that Saturday morning she could feel the queasy stirrings of her insides and she could understand now that she had been cowed and subjugated quite easily. That always made her feel slightly ill, too. Earl sat down at the table and he had a funny look on his face. Myrna had an odd look on her face, too, and she also had a funny looking little smile on her face.
"We are going to have a very lovely day," Myrna said. "We are going to stay home and have fun and games. We will have the whole house to ourselves because my father is away for the week end. So we can do anything that we want to."
She remembered that she had gazed at Myrna, aware that she was very pretty that morning. She had done something with her eyes and she had a little lipstick on her mouth and she was wearing a very pretty sun suit. In spite of her tender years, Myrna had a very pretty body and she knew it. She was sitting very straight at the table and her firm young breasts seemed quite well developed and Diane was sure that she was not wearing a bra under her shirt. She could almost glimpse the pear shaped breasts and seeing them, or nearly seeing them, upset her a bit. Myrna was very vain and she was always showing off her body, wearing tight, revealing clothes often, and she admitted that she knew that she was turning on lots of guys who saw her. But she enjoyed that sort of play.
"You look so lovely this morning, Myrna," Diane said.
And Myrna smiled, accepting the compliment as her due.
"You are very pretty this morning, too. Diane," Myrna said.
Earl didn't say anything. He was eating a bowl of cereal and he had little real interest in what the two girls were saying.
"You are so pretty," Myrna continued, "I just can't believe that you are the goody goody you tell us you are. I don't believe that you are such a sweet young maiden. And, that reminds me. I have quite a few pictures that I want to show you. They are very nice pictures and I want to ask you what I am to do with them."
She sat up straight and she reached for a cigarette. Myrna watched her light it, then she stood up and she went out of the kitchen. A moment later. Myrna was back and she had an envelope in her hands. She placed the envelope in front of Diane and then she sat down again.
"Look at them, Diane," Myrna said, smiling. "Then we'll talk about what I do with them."
She opened the envelope and she took out the pictures and when she looked at the one on top she began to feel faint and she sweated in her chair and she almost fell off of the chair. Myrna's hand flashed and she felt the stinging slap on her face and that snapped her back to full consciousness and renewed strength. She was weeping because of the pain in her face and the shock of the slap, probably, and she wept, too, because of the awful picture she was staring at. It was a picture of her, presumably, and she was naked in a big chair while a police dog was licking her between her legs. In another picture, the dog was mounting her and copulating with her from behind. Another picture showed her lying on a bed, her legs far apart while her fingers masturbated herself quite visibly.
There were a dozen of the pictures, each one different, each one more horrible. Myrna was watching her face and she was wearing a big, supercilious smile as she waited for some comment from Diane. She put the pictures back into the envelope and she was still crying. A feeling of utter horror was making her ill and she didn't really know just what to say. The words popped out of her, protesting.
"Why would you do such a thing?" she demanded. "That isn't me. That isn't me at all."
Myrna made a sound that was practically a giggle.
"We know that," she said, "but I don't think your father would believe that. You see, Earl did such a good job making them, we thought that maybe we would give them to your father. You know, so he could see what his daughter is really like."
That was just too much terror for her to deal with and she went into hysterics. Myrna dealt with her very capably and by the time she got herself straightened out again, her cheeks were burning and smarting from the blows that Myrna's hands had given it.
She wept for a long time while Myrna bathed her face with a cold wash rag and then she sat up straight and she realized that she was lying on Myrna's bed. The pretty little blonde girl was smiling at her and she was bending forward so that she could see Diane's face closely.
"You are all right now," Myrna said. "You can get up now. And you can go on home, too. Later on we will turn the pictures over to your father and Earl and I will swear that you brought them over to show to us. But, we didn't know that you were a girl like that and we thought that he ought to know what you are really like. That's what we are going to do."
She began pleading with Myrna, begging her not to do that. She could imagine her father's face when he saw the pictures and she was close to hysteria again. Myrna slapped her face again, hard, and the tears splashed all over as her head bounced around.
"Shut up," Myrna said to her, viciously. "I'm so damned tired of you and your goody goody ways. Now, that is going to stop and you are going to be of some use to me and Earl. Or else. You understand?"
"Oh, yes," she said, almost giddy with the hope of a way out. "I will do anything. Anything at all.
Just don't show such pictures to my Dad. It would kill him. And, he would never be sure that it isn't me in those pictures."
"I know," Myrna said, contentedly. "Now, you are going to become my slave, dearie. You must promise to do everything that I tell you to do without protest and you must promise to be obedient to my every wish. If you are ready to make such promises, then we can proceed. Are you willing to live like that? Or do I send Earl over to your house with the pictures?"
"Oh, no," she had said. "I promise. I will do anything at all that you say. Anything."
"All right," Myrna said, smiling. "Now stop sniveling and go into the bathroom and fix your face. Then put some makeup on so that you are pretty. After that, I'll tell you what I want you to do. Now, hurry because I like to be obeyed promptly. Otherwise I get mad, and we don't really want to get me mad, do we?"
She shook her head gravely and then she went into the bath room and she washed her face and Myrna came in to supervise her makeup. Myrna even brushed her hair and when they were done she was actually quite beautiful. Myrna smiled at their reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror.
"Earl thinks you are just the most beautiful female creature ever," Myrna said. "And, I am very fond of Earl. Now he is going to have all of you that he can stand. You are going to amuse both of us in every way that I can imagine. You are going to be very busy."
She realized then that Myrna's interest in her was sexual in nature and she could see that the young girl was seething with carnal, lusting plans. It showed in her eyes, in a certain way that she stood. Diane began to cry and that infuriated Myrna.
"Don't," she said, angrily, coldly. "You will ruin your eye makeup and if you do that, I will whip your ass till it bleeds and you won't be able to sit for a week. I can have a lot of fun punishing you, so you quit with the weeps. I'm tired of that stuff. So, quit it, you hear?"
She was afraid of Myrna, and that showed. Myrna enjoyed intimidating her, she could tell that. And she could begin to understand why Myrna would boss Earl around. She wondered what horrible things Myrna did to him when they were alone. She could not imagine what they might be, but she was sure that she would find out just what Myrna was really like.
It began then, because Myrna stepped back and she told Diane to turn around so that she could inspect her. Diane obeyed her and Myrna stood for a time, looking her over. Then Myrna's hand flashed out and she hit Diane's face with her open palm and there was so much force behind the blow that it sent Diane flying. She landed in a heap beneath the sink and her head was ringing, her eyes were hurting and Myrna reached down, her fingers slipped into Diane's hair and she felt quick, red hot agony in her scalp as Myrna pulled her up onto her feet. Myrna looked into her face and she saw that Diane was not weeping and that seemed to please her.
"No weeps," she said, coldly. "I don't want to have to make you up again. Now, are you going to obey me instantly and pleasantly, or shall I beat the piss out of you?"
Diane was scared, sure then that Myrna was not quite sane. The younger girl was smiling at her and then Myrna said that she looked to be very beautiful and they were finished in the bathroom for the time being.
"Now you come and have some coffee with Earl and me," Myrna said. "I want him to look at you and see how pretty you are."
She went along with Myrna and they found Earl still at the kitchen table. He was smoking a cigarette and dawdling with a cup of coffee. He stared at Diane when she and Myrna returned and in spite of her distress, Diane was very much pleased by the look of admiration and adoration she saw in Earl's eyes. She sat down at the table and Myrna poured coffee for all of them.
Instead of sitting down with them, Myrna went off again and when she returned she had a big envelope and she placed that in front of Diane. She sat down with a big smile sparkling on her lips.
"You look at those pictures, Diane," Myrna said. "You look at every one of them."
They were large pictures and the detail was sharp in each one. They were pictures of men and women in all sorts of sexual acts and she had to examine each one very intently in order to please Myrna. Some of the pictures made her sick to her stomach but no one seemed to care.
The same dog was in a lot of the pictures. He was always licking some girl's sexual organs or he was behind her, his paws on her shoulders, his long organ buried inside the girl's body.
Another picture showed a very pretty girl with a boy's penis in her mouth and the boy had had his orgasm, apparently, because the stuff was dripping down the girl's chin. There were pictures of couples copulating, and there were pictures of boys making love to boys, and girls making love to girls and it seemed that every conceivable sexual act had been tried and filmed. The pictures were well done, the clarity of detail and the composition of each picture was expert. She wondered if Earl had made the pictures. She glanced at him and saw that he was watching her, smiling at her.
"My brother didn't do those. A professional photographer did them. But, Earl is coming along nicely. In a very short time he will be an expert photographer, too."
Earl didn't say anything and Diane didn't either. She went on looking at the pictures and she was sure that Myrna had to be sick. Nice people just wouldn't ever do such things she was sure. She happened to glance up and she saw that Earl and Myrna were watching her very intently.
"Earl can do anything with his cameras and the dark room," Myrna said, proudly. "He is very talented. But, I don't have to convince you of that, do I?"
She shook her head and Myrna laughed. "Do you like to look at pictures like that?"
"No," she said. "It upsets me to have to look at things like that. I don't really believe that people do things like that."
Myrna picked up the pictures that Diane had already looked at and she began leafing through them. There were at least two dozen more that Diane had not yet examined. Myrna began looking at them and she placed them in a neat pile in front of her.
"I've got news for you, Diane," Myrna said. "People not only do all of these things, they are constantly trying to think up new stuff to do that will give them new and better thrills. But. you are a cold one. Looking at the pictures is supposed to get you all steamed up and make you want to fool around."
"It doesn't," Diane said. "It just makes me ill. These people are all sick. Every one of them."
Myrna's pretty face became cold and stern and in spite of the fact that she was hardly more than a child, her eyes held the lusting look of a passionate adult. Myrna was on tire with lust and sex urges and it showed in her face and her mouth and her eyes.
"I guess that you are going to be lots sicker," Myrna said. "We got a long day ahead of us and we are going to do all of those things and lots more, too. You are going to have yourself a really wild time from now on."
Diane stared at Myrna and she burst out with protest.
"Oh, no." she said. "No. I couldn't. I won't."
Myrna sighed and she picked up the stack of pictures and placed them into an envelope. She put the envelope on the countertop. She lit a cigarette and blew smoke toward the ceiling. She was gazing at Diane's determined expression and she shrugged.
"All right," she said. "You don't have to do a damned thing that you don't want to do. I have a set of the pictures showing you playing with your cunt and I will send them to your father's office, and we will send another set to your house. It doesn't matter. Like I said, you don't have to do one single damned thing you don't feel that you want to do."
She fell apart then and the very last of her resistance deserted her. She sat back and she looked up at Myrna and when she saw that there was no compassion there, she begged her to reconsider.
"Please," she said, imploringly, "don't. I will do anything that you want me to do. Please don't let my father see things like that. I would rather die than have him see those pictures."
"Maybe you will wish that you were dead before we are through with you," Myrna said. "And, now it isn't as easy as it was in the beginning. Now I want to hear you ask us to like you and to do with you whatever we want to do. Now you ask me nicely and maybe I will let you stay and spend the day with us and we will show you how to have lots of grand and wonderful thrills. Now you ask me nicely or I mail those pictures out. Now hurry."
She obeyed Myrna and she wound up on her knees and Myrna made her beg to be used and abused and she did it, because she felt that she had to, and when her times of torment and humiliation were begun, Myrna kept telling her that she really had no reason to complain. After all, she had begged for it.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sitting in her quiet apartment, many years removed from the actions and events that had taken place at another time, she was conscious of certain changes that had apparently taken place in her. It came to her as a surprise when she realized that she was enjoying a vicarious sensual pleasure in recalling the details of her first day with Earl and Myrna that she had not been able to achieve when it had actually happened.
Myrna had been rather dictatorial and domineering right from the beginning. She stood in front of Diane as she knelt in a supplicating posture, pleading to be allowed to amuse and entertain her good friends, Earl and Myrna, and when Myrna was finally satisfied with her abject posture, she pushed Diane with her palm and sent her sprawling. Diane was close to tears again and she was frightened because it seemed that Myrna wanted to abuse her and was seeking any excuse to do it. Earl was watching the things that Myrna was doing and he had a smile on his face. It was a misery-loves-company sort of smile and she felt a bit more relieved. Myrna very obviously dominated him and he didn't look abused or battered.
"You two come into the bedroom," Myrna said, "and we will see how well you can obey, and how well you can please me."
Remembering her own docility now, she was revolted and for a time she was sure that she was going to be sick. She decided that she should put such memories behind her forever and never think of them again, but she knew that she could not, would not, do it. In spite of the horrid things that Myrna had made her do she could think of them now and she knew that she was being turned on by her thoughts. She shifted her legs and she could feel the wetness between them, she could feel the rising sensitivity in her sexual flesh and she just didn't care any more. She would remember, she would face the horror and the sensual pleasures that she could generate now. She wanted to remember.
Myrna had been horny as hell and eager to get everybody's clothes off, and she had been horrified to learn that such things as incest could actually occur. As soon as they were all in the bedroom, Myrna reached out and she opened Earl's fly and he stood still and let her do it. Myrna reached inside and she pulled his stiff organ out and Diane found herself staring at it with a very nervous fascination. Earl was enjoying having Myrna's hand on his organ, she could tell that. And when Myrna began moving her hand up and down it was obvious that Earl really liked that. Myrna looked at her and she had a funny looking smile on her face. Her tongue was hanging out of one side of her mouth and she kept on running it around the perimeter of her mouth.
Earl began panting and he was shaking. She was staring at his organ and she could see the white fluid that was oozing from the tiny opening. She noticed the rapt, drunken look on Myrna's face and then she heard Earl groaning and he was shaking more than ever. Myrna slid down onto her knees, she slid her mouth over Earl's excited organ and then Diane could see that Myrna was swallowing and sucking at the same time and Earl was patting his pretty sister's head and the two of them were completely oblivious to her existence for a while.
She sat down in the nearest chair and she was shivering as she watched Myrna doing the things that she was doing with Earl. It didn't seem that Myrna was going to stop. Instead she unbuckled Earl's belt and she pushed his trousers down, then she unbuttoned his shorts and they fell down around his ankles. He stood, then, naked from the waist down, while his sister sucked his organ and tickled his balls with her sharp little nails. Diane had watched it all, fascinated and decidedly enthralled by what she was seeing.
Myrna forced Earl into another orgasm and she swallowed it all and then she slid her mouth off of his organ and she kept on licking his genitals as she left them. Like a dog that was not quite sure he had gotten all of the juices there was to get.
Myrna laid her head down on the bed and she looked like she was drunk, or far out. Earl sat down on the edge of the bed and he put his hands on his organ and it was small and shriveled up but it was all red and the way he was handling it he was sort of massaging his abused flesh. He was having trouble with his breathing and he just didn't stop shaking.
When Myrna was able to lift her head again she looked at Diane and she seemed to be hating her. Even now she could remember the malevolence that had been in Myrna's eyes as she told her to undress. And she could remember how Myrna seemed to get great pleasure out of using the ugly, vulgar words. She always did that and it was a sort of sexual prop, she knew now, because Myrna was always nice and as lady-like as could be expected usually, but when she was in her bedroom, enjoying sexual fun and games with her slaves, her mouth was careless and she used the awful words with great glee. Thinking about that first morning, she could not decide which had shocked her most that morning, Myrna's order to disrobe or the things that she said at the same time.
"You take off your clothes, Baby," Myrna said. "We are going to paly with your cunt, and we are going to really give you a time. You just saw me suck Earl off twice. You are going to learn how to do it, because when Earl is getting his cock sucked he eats me nicely. You are going to learn how to eat me nicely, too. Now you hurry up and get undressed."
Diane had been too stunned to respond quickly. Myrna stood up and she walked over to where Diane was standing and she punched her in the stomach and when Diane bent over in agony, Myrna said that she would kill her if she didn't obey promptly.
"You want another one in the gut?" Myrna asked, lifting her head up by the hair.
"No," Diane whimpered. "Please, no. Don't hit me again. I will do as you say."
Myrna turned and she smiled at her brother. "You undress her. Earl." she said. "That will give you a hard on again and I'll make her suck you off. I want to watch that bitch swallowing jism. And I got lots of other cute ideas. I can't let you fuck her because I think she is still a virgin and we don't want that against us, but she can take it up the asshole. I'll bet she will love that."
She stood, weeping silently, filled with horror and a feeling of inconsolable anguish. Earl began taking her clothes off and when he bared her breasts she was pleased when she heard Myrna gasp at their beauty and then when she saw Myrna's face, the envy that she saw there was infinite reward.
Earl handled her breasts almost reverently and he stalled at that point. Myrna told him to go on and take all of Diane's clothes from her.
"She's got beautiful tits, so what," Myrna said. "We will have lots of fun with them. I'll bet the rest of her is beautiful too. That's why I am so anxious for us to get at her. She's a mouse, but she's a beautiful mouse. So, go on, get her naked."
Earl got out of his clothes and he was standing naked in front of her and she saw that his organ was stiff and very big. Myrna saw it, too, and that seemed to please her. When Earl peeled her pale blue panties down over her hips he stared at the patch of almost white pubic hair, and then she slipped the flat, puffy part of his finger into her delicately fashioned valley. Very quietly, he began spurting all over her belly and as she felt the hot droplets spattering her flesh she felt a quick sense of pride, glad that her beauty could do that to him.
Myrna saw and she came over to look at Diane's naked body. Earl put his hand around his spitting organ and he pumped himself back and forth frenziedly and then he was finished and he was staring at her, just standing, staring.
She was not surprised when Myrna knelt in front of her and licked the juices that Earl had spilled onto her belly. Myrna was shaking again and then as she licked and kissed Diane's belly, she began making weird, soft little sounds deep in her throat and then Diane felt Myrna's hands against the plumpness of her buttocks and then Myrna was kissing her pubic plane and then she felt the hot, flickering tongue in her slit and she began prancing around, too stimulated to be still. Myrna glued her mouth to Diane's sopping organ and then Diane lost track of things because Myrna's mouth and nimble tongue drove her right up into orbit and she was helpless and unable to resist in any way. She was to learn that once she was stimulated sexually she lost all control and had to endure that which was being done to her. But she did enjoy it, and as she grew older, the intensity of her sexual and sensual ecstasies deepened and she would, eventually, develop orgasms that were actually sexual convulsions and the magnitude of her sensual joys just seemed to grow more and more intense.
But those were things that developed as time went on, and she could still remember the first awakenings of sensation that Myrna had given to her. She remembered that she was standing when Myrna's avid mouth first found her sexual organs but when she regained her senses, she was lying on Myrna's bed, her legs were spread far apart and Earl was playing with her tiny rose-pink lips. Myrna was sitting up on the bed, looking at her there, too, watching what Earl was doing. He slipped his finger into her and she wriggled as sensation began anew and made her squirm.
Myrna smiled at her. "You have a very pretty little cunt. Diane," she said. "And you taste sweet. I would love to suck honey from your cunt but we don't dare let Earl fuck you. But you will suck lots of honey from my cunt. Earl fucks me all the time. Earl does anything that I tell him to do, don't you. Baby?"
Earl looked up at Myrna with a silly smile on his face.
"Yes," he said. "Anything."
Myrna laughed as she watched Diane wriggling her bottom around on the bed. Earl's finger was sliding in and out of her tight little sheath and the rich; lovely sensations were driving her out of her mind again. Myrna sucked some smoke into her lungs and then she pulled her knees up under her chin, her skirt slid down and then Diane could see the bald pubis, the hairless red slit and she was amazed. She had not supposed that Myrna was that young. Then it came to her mind that she knew Myrna was not that young. Diane knew how old Myrna was and she realized that Myrna had to shave herself down there if she wanted to be bald.
Myrna caught her looking at her sexual area and she giggled.
"I put a depilatory on it and it gets rid of the hair and there is no stubble. I will do the same thing to you. You'll like it, and it will make Earl horny and I can get lots more out of him. You'll see."
Myrna got up off of the bed and she began getting out of her clothes. Diane was writhing in swift sexual agitation, driven frantic by Earl's busy fingers in her crotch. Myrna giggled as his fingers made her jump, and then she was climaxing, spilling her juices all over his palm. He didn't seem to mind.
"Earl loves cunt," she said. "He loves to eat it, to kiss it and to suck it, and he will drive you out of your skull once he starts working on you with that lovely tongue of his, but, you try to relax because this show is only beginning."
Thinking about that day and the events that took place, she tried to be objective but she could not. She suspected that the things that they did to her robbed her of the ability to think or to function intellectually, but she was not even sure of that. Not any more.
"You enjoyed it," she said aloud. "You enjoyed every single thing that they did to you."
She felt her face prickling as she realized that remembering all of the details of that first day was exciting her inordinately and when she put her fingertips against her clit, she began having a gasping, wavering orgasm that made her spill and when she moved her palm and rubbed her tiny little button of joy she spilled anew and an orgasm of massive agitation swept through her and almost forced her into wetting herself. She knew that she was responding to all sorts of stimuli with an eagerness to enjoy that was probably indecent, but she had been locked into a chrysalis for too long, and now that a thaw might be setting in, her starved glands and tissues were overreacting and therefore she was feeling exaggerated thrills and excruciating ecstasies that had previously been unattainable for her. She did not know whether that was good or bad.
She got up from the floor after the storms burned themselves out and when she began to move she was conscious of the wetness on her sexual flesh and she knew that she had drenched her inner thighs and she supposed that a shower was indicated, but she did not want to affect the nice, languorous mood that thinking of her early seductions had brought to her. She undressed beside her bed and then she stretched out on it. She used some tissues to dispose of the excessive moisture between her legs and doing that reminded her of what Myrna had made her do on that morning so long ago.
Myrna had told Earl that he could amuse himself with Diane.
"You can eat her cunt all you want to," Myrna said. "I've got some ideas of my own."
Earl didn't answer. Myrna got onto the bed with them and she knelt so that she could bend over and kiss Diane and in spite of the fact that Myrna was another girl, she felt herself responding to Myrna's seeking tongue and clinging mouth and she shivered with swift, lancing surges of intense sensation as Earl's tongue stimulated her most sensitive flesh and Myrna's mouth kissed her hotly, wetly, passionately, and Myrna's hands played with her breasts, making them tingle and pulsate with eagernesses that she had never before experienced. Myrna kissed her all the while she was climaxing and then when she began to calm a bit Myrna's words against her lips inflamed her anew.
"We will have such a lovely day," Myrna said. "Now you will suck Earl's cock and after a while he will fuck me, and then you will suck my cunt and I will suck yours, too. Later on Earl will fuck you up the ass and we will do lots of nice things."
She was twisting her head from side to side trying to avoid Myrna's wet mouth but she was not able to do it. And then Myrna moved away and she could hear her talking and then Earl was on top of her and his sexual organs were above her mouth. She didn't actually remember taking him into her mouth, but she could recall the way his fluids tasted and she remembered, too, that she had liked the taste of his material. She began to nurse on him just like an infant and he was doing lovely things to her clitoris and she was squirming and swinging her hips around and then she was coming and it was a massive orgasm, flooding his mouth, and then he was flooding her mouth and shoving himself deeper into her throat. She wished that she knew what she should do and before she could really cope with the torrent of honey that he poured into her mouth, the need to deal with it was gone and so was the material, and she was again sucking him contentedly, eagerly, seeking more and more of the delicious nectar that he was able to give her.
She had always liked sucking him, and she had never known why. In the years afterwards she thought about it only with a feeling of shame, but that was slowly but surely evaporating from her consciousness and she could remember her times with Earl as times of great pleasures, once her initial repugnance for anything sexual was set aside for the time being by her new ability to enjoy voluptuous thrills and sensations.
Somehow she had Earl's penis in her mouth and he was using his mouth on Myrna's sexual organ while Myrna was eating her and when she got her mind unscrambled and she sorted things out she knew that she had missed the details of what had happened and how it was worked out but she missed none of the thrills. And when they all erupted with monumental orgasms of great splendor and intense sensual pleasures, they were exhausted for the time being.
She was on the big bed with two other naked bodies and she wept because she had done things that she knew she would be ashamed of all the rest of her life. She knew that she had sucked Earl's organ as avidly as any whore, as eagerly as any sybarite might do it and she had enjoyed it when her efforts forced his strengths and his sap from him.
Myrna sat up after a while and she lit a cigarette for herself. She gave one to Diane and lit it for her. She noticed that Myrna's hand was shaking quite badly. Myrna grinned at her.
"It isn't the fate worse than death, you know," she said. "And, you did have a very nice time. Your cunt just kept working like crazy and you swallowed all that Earl could give you, so maybe you won't hate us for what we are doing to you, after all."
She was too enervated to answer Myrna. She just wanted to rest, to die and be buried where no one would ever see her or speak to her again. She rested upon her back and she was too weak to close her legs, too worn out to try to shield her breasts. Earl put his hand on one of them and then he began kissing them and she found the touch of his lips and his tongue a delicious feeling on her breasts. He was too weak to be aggressive, and she had the feeling that he was loving her, trying to please her as well as himself.
Myrna said, "It's time we had something to eat. It is lunch time. You can get up and help me Fix us something."
She protested and Myrna reached out and grasped her nearest breast in talon-like claws and when she shrieked in quick pain, she was reminded that she had surrendered her right to protest and all that she could do now was obey. Myrna let her flesh go and she saw the ugly red marks in her flesh and she was tempted to weep. Instead she jumped out of the bed and she stood, trembling and frightened, waiting for Myrna's command.
She asked if she could put some clothes on and Myrna said no.
She helped Myrna work at fixing them some food and Myrna seemed to be angry. She was washing the breakfast dishes in the sink slightly bent over when Myrna struck her bottom harshly and viciously with one swat of a stiff rubber fly swatter and while she was still gasping from the shock of the first blow, Myrna hit her other buttock. She was conscious of a quick, hot flush in her bottom and it was a very pleasing sensation. Myrna was watching me, still holding the fly swatter in her hand.
"I am tired of you and your nonsense," Myrna said. "If you are at all uncooperative or disobedient again I will work on your ass with this till it glows like a light bulb. And, if you still give me any trouble I will make Earl fuck you, no matter what it costs. You behave yourself and obey me and you can keep your cherry but you give us any trouble at all and I will let Earl cop it. He would love to do that, you know that."
"I'll be good," she had said, frightened and very worried. Somehow, she reasoned, no matter what they did to her, she could survive it and still be a virgin, and that was awfully important to her. Why, she didn't know, but it was suddenly the most important thing in the world. She learned later on that her hymen had always been safe because Earl explained to her that Myrna was too smart to fool with Diane's cherry.
"She figures," Earl said, "that if you ever should go to the police and try to make them believe that we do the things to you that we do, that they wouldn't believe you. But, if you can show them that somebody did cop your cherry and you tell them I did it, well, they might believe you. So, we don't take any chances."
They did everything else to her. She was forced to submit to all sorts of humiliating experiences that very first day. When they finished eating. Myrna made her go into the bedroom again and they made her lie on her back with a couple of pillows under her bottom. Then Earl began rubbing his stiff cock up and down in the slippery valley of her sex organs and she could feel Myrna's hands on her ankles, spreading her legs far apart. Then she felt the wet-slippery tip of Earl's cock against her ass hole and she cried out in quick protest and Myrna slapped her thighs with the fly swatter and then she could feel the sharp, tearing pain as Earl shoved his cock into her and then she was gulping for air and a warm, erotic sensation began to glow and she was writhing in sudden ecstasy.
That was the nicest feeling of all, she remembered, and she could hear the flat, harsh sounds of the fly swatter and she realized that Myrna was using it on Earl's plunging bottom and she just didn't care. She was feeling new, throat-closing sensations and she knew that she was coming steadily, and she just couldn't help herself. She could feel him swelling inside of her and then he was coming and she could feel it, she began screeching at the top of her lungs as she began an exceptionally ecstastic orgasm too.
They let her enjoy the long, drawn out period of sexual spasms too delightful to endure. Earl shriveled up inside of her and when he finally slipped out of her she shivered with a last vestige of bliss and then it was over. When Myrna told her to sit up and have a smoke, she was able to obey.
"I enjoyed watching you get fucked up the ass," Myrna said. "Now, you come into the bathroom because I have another teat in mind for you, Baby."
She went into the bathroom with Myrna and Earl followed them. It was an old-fashioned bathroom, with the tub sticking out from the wall, and space on either side of it. Myrna told her to get into the tub and when she went to turn on the taps Myrna told her to stop.
"You are going to have a shower, Baby," Myrna told her. "And you are going to learn how to please me."
Myrna made her sit with her back against the wall and then Myrna straddled the tub and she could see every line and corpuscle of Myrna's sexual organ in front of her face. Myrna snickered and then she told Diane what to expect.
"You are going to get a golden shower, honey," Myrna said. "Earl and I are going to piss all over you. Now hold your mouth open and we'll see how well I can aim. Earl likes this and you will too. Now, if you close your mouth before I tell you that you may I will beat the shit out of you, or maybe we will shit all over you."
Remembering now, she shivered and yet she decided it wasn't really that bad. She had sat in the tub and Myrna spattered her face and then she shifted her hips to improve her aim and then she was filling Diane's mouth and the fluid was simply running over, spilling onto her breasts and her crotch and when Myrna was finally emptied, she told Diane that she could spit it all out and then she forced Diane to lick and suck her sexual organ until she was too weakened by too many orgasms to sit there any more. Then it was Earl's turn to piss all over her and when he was done she was required to suck him off, too.
In time, they all wound up under the shower, but no matter how much scrubbing she did, she was sure that she would never be clean again. Not after associating with such vile creatures as Myrna and her brother, Earl.
When they were clean again, she was forced to submit to more attentions from Earl's eager mouth and while he was screwing Myrna on the bed, he was also sucking her organ and when he spent himself in Myrna, she was forced to accept Myrna's leaking organ in her mouth and she had to suck Myrna until she was clean and fresh again. Myrna went down on her too and she found herself involved in a frenzied sixty-nine that lasted for hours.
She became exhausted and she knew that Myrna was worn out, too, and when Earl told her to get up on her hands and knees, she obeyed him. In the state she was in, she would have obeyed anyone. He put pillows under her belly and then he began sodomizing her again, plunging himself in and out of her tight canal with a rhythm that he seemed to enjoy. She felt his fingers playing with her clitoris as he screwed her and then she was suddenly caught up in the rich sensations that he was arousing and she began making the soft, screeching sounds that always preceded the massive sexual convulsions that such treatments always engendered in her. When she came she was so overcome by erotic ecstasies that she fainted and missed most of the rich, heady thrills of sexual fulfillment.
It was growing dark in the bedroom when she opened her eyes and she saw that Earl was sodomizing Myrna, but it was more than that, she saw, when she actually watched. He would insert his cock into Myrna's cunt from the rear and then he would plunge in and out of her for a while, then he would slam his wet, dripping prick into Myrna's asshole and she would groan with a new burst of exceptional pleasure and then he would screw her there for a time, then return to the more usual opening. When the frenzy of orgasm shook them both, Diane could not be sure which hole Earl came in. She didn't really care. It was getting late and she was glad. Now she would have an excuse to leave them and go to her home.
That wasn't the way Myrna had it figured out. She told Diane that she was going to stay all night and after their father came home, Diane would sleep with Myrna and delight her all night.
"You can suck my cunt all night, honey," Myrna said, "and I will make sure that Earl fills it up for you, so you just sit tight while we call your folks and ask them if we can't have you for the night. They will agree, gladly. Your folks like us."
She knew that that was true and she listened with a sinking feeling of despair, while Myrna talked to her mother and got permission for her to stay all night with the kids next door.
They didn't bother with supper. They fed upon each other's glands and she began to learn more about Myrna's cruelties. Myrna whipped her and she whipped Earl, too, and when it was over they were both so horny that they ate each other with great glee.
She spent the night in bed with Myrna and Earl screwed his sister before he was allowed to go to his own bed. Myrna kept her mouth glued to Diane's cunt and she made Diane do the same for her and they spent hours in frenzied sixty-nine.
In the morning, Myrna made her use her mouth again and after that, Myrna kissed her and made love to her, too, and when the breakfast dishes were done and their father had gone off to his work, Myrna and Earl insisted upon starting in all over again.
She spent many days with Earl and Myrna and she became an obsequious, obedient creature, eager to please Myrna, catering to her every whim and she found that she could enjoy many of the things that she was called upon to do.
Earl became her friend and she found that she liked him and when she had to suck him she enjoyed that, too, because she learned to like his product and she could experience lovely climaxes all the while that she was working on him.
They all graduated from high school and in time, the two friends that she had moved away. The doctor sold his practice and he took his handsome children to Europe and then she was left alone and as time passed and she thought about the things that she had done with Myrna and Earl, she became ill. She lost weight and the doctors put her on all sorts of diets so that she could gain weight and she began to improve after a while, but, somehow, she had closed a door in her mind and she no longer had any interest in sex and she turned her efforts toward work.
She had always wanted to paint and she went to school, she worked hard and her teachers told her to give it up. She had no talent, she had no skill and she would never be an artist.
Today, she was one of the most respected and successful artists in the business.
So much for the teachers.
CHAPTER SIX
She went back to the lake the next morning.
The gates guarding her rustic domain were wide open and she didn't bother closing them. It was well that she did not because she would have had to drive back and open them again. Her back yard was filled with workmen and the addition to her house was already underway. There were cars and equipment all over the place and one of the first people she met was Bill Edwards.
He was easy to find. He was sitting at her kitchen table with another man and they were both having some coffee that he had brewed. The pot was on the stove and a low flame was keeping it that she had sort of missed him and she was so glad to find him at her house. He winked at her and she sipped some of the coffee he had poured into a cup for her. The coffee was much stronger than she would make it for herself but she didn't complain. She was very much at ease with the whole wide world and she just didn't care about anything for a while. She was just glad to see Bill Edwards. She realized that Tom Carter was still talking to her and she turned to look at him and listen to him.
He was not a big man but he had a compact, muscular body and she was sure that he was a very strong and powerful man. He seemed to like her and she felt bad about not listening to him more attentively. He didn't seem to know that she had left him for a while.
He talked to her about the specifications that Bill had listed in his plans and she was glad that there would be a wood floor with wall to wall carpeting over it. She had spent many hours standing on concrete floors and that always hurt her legs and it made her weary much sooner than standing on carpeting laid over wood was likely to do. She finally gave all of her attention to the work and after a while she walked outside and watched as the men went about their tasks. Bill Edwards stood beside her and they watched together. The day was bright with sunshine and after Bill Edwards went off to watch the workmen at their tasks, she tried to do some work. She had several pieces set up to be worked on but she went from one to the other, not at all sure of just how she was going to warm. Bill Edwards looked up at her as she entered the room and he gave her a big, infectious grin.
"Hi," he said. "We have missed you."
"I had to go into the city," she said, slowly, looking at the young man sitting on her table. He was big and blonde and dressed in tan working clothes. Bill Edwards introduced him without delay.
"This is Tom Carter," Bill said. "He is a contractor and he is going to do the addition for us."
"Don't I have anything to say about such things?" she asked. She was smiling, teasing Bill, perhaps.
"Not any more," he said. "Once you turned the job over to me, things begin to happen. Would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, I would," she said. "Hello, Tom."
She shook hands with the young contractor with a gravity that could have been ludicrous but it was not. He told her that his men would finish her job within a week. That surprised her and it pleased her, too, because she had a great deal of work to do and the new studio would be a decided asset.
"We got in here with a backhoe yesterday afternoon," Tom Carter said, "and we got the footing dug and inspected this morning. The guys are putting in the foundation now. Bill said that you wouldn't want a concrete slab so we are putting in a foundation and a sub-flooring laid diagonally on two-by-tens."
"That's nice," she said. She was gazing at Bill Edwards and he was smiling at her and she knew do them. She decided that she would give up working for the day and assume that she had become wearied by the drive up from the city.
She was curled up in a big chair with a book when Bill Edwards came looking for her. He said that the men were quitting for the day and that surprised her. She had not known that it was that late.
"I came to ask if you would like to have dinner with a very lonely bachelor," he said.
She gave him a slow, hoyden smile and she uncurled and got to her feet. He reached for her and she stepped back, avoiding him.
"I have missed you terribly," he said, offering that as an excuse for his obvious intentions.
"Tell me," she said. "Don't show me."
She was able to push him away and then they had some coffee and a cigarette and she promised to be ready to go to dinner with him at eight. When he walked out of the house and she knew that he was gone, she felt cheated. She should have let him kiss her. She sat at her kitchen table and she thought again of the things that she had done with Myrna and Earl in the distant past and she wondered if Bill Edwards would think so much of her or even like her if he knew the things that she had done.
She shivered as she decided that she was letting her mind run away with her. She stood up and looked out at the mess in her back yard and she shook her head, appalled by her own liking for the handsome young architect.
"He is only asking you out to dinner," she told herself. "Don't find a button and sew a coat on it. You just behave. Girl."
She watched the early news on television and she saw none of it. Nothing registered in her mind and she was very much disgusted with herself. Her mind was again captivated by thoughts of sexuality and its intense pleasures and she wished that she could accept such thoughts without the stirrings of conscience ruining any hope of real pleasures. She was so severely hung up she was a kuke. A real weirdo and she wished that she could rid her mind and body of all interest in sex, even thwarted interests.
She showered and rubbed her body with a wash cloth and cold water and when she was dressed she noticed that her face practically glowed with good health and her eyes were twinkling with great beauty. She was practically radiant and she made faces at her reflection. But she was smiling.
"Good girl," she said. "Who would want you? Especially if they knew the things that you have done. Don't think too seriously about Bill Edwards. Let him buy you dinner and keep the hell away from him, because once he gets his hands on you, you go to pieces and he does any thing that he wants to to you."
She finished unpacking and putting things away and while she was doing it she was inventorying her wardrobe. She picked out a simple dress that did marvelous things for her face and figure and it looked like it had probably cost three dollars. Instead it had cost three hundred but she felt that it was worth every dollar. She loved the dress and the way it hugged her body, it loved her, too.
She was ready when he called for her and he was outrageously wild with his compliments and she accepted them like a simpering little idiot. She practically glowed for him and when they entered the restaurant and she saw the admiration of other men and the envy of some of the women she was very glad that she had taken such care with her grooming. He was very proud of her and it showed.
They danced and he was tireless and so was she, but the time for leaving came and they drove back to her house in a night that was warm and delightful. She hated it when he finally kissed her good night and she watched him go away from her. She stood on her front porch and watched his tail lights as the car went off toward the big gates that were always standing open now.
Surprisingly, she was not tired, but it was after midnight and she knew that she should go to bed. She tried that. She stretched out on her bed and the bright light of the moon was in the room with her and the warmth of the night was like a cloak around her. She tried to sleep but she just was not tired and she finally got up out of bed. She stood at the window and stared out at the lake, shimmering like a place of molten gold and she decided that she just might take a swim. Perhaps that would tire her.
She took her nightgown off and she put her bathing suit on in the bathroom with the bright lights on. She was donning a bikini and a halter and she wanted to make sure that she had it firmly and dependably secured upon her person before she went out into the lake. She did not expect to meet anyone, but she just didn't want to take any chances, she decided.
She carried a towel with her, a blanket and some cigarettes, and she settled down beside the water for a while. The heat was almost oppressive and she drew smoke into her lungs and then blew it off toward the distant moon. She stretched out on the blanket for a short time while she finished her cigarette. She began to think of the dinner date she had enjoyed with Bill Edwards and she found herself wishing that he had not gone home so early. Then she thought of what might have happened if he had remained. She knew that she was beginning to arouse her sexual yearnings again and that was not what she wanted to do. She put her cigarette out and then she stood up and walked toward the lake with the mincing, entrancing steps that young girls seem to use.
The waters were cool but not too much so. She began swimming and there was something exhilarating and pleasant about using her arms and her legs and she swam straight out for quite a while.
She rolled over and floated upon her back and then she began treading water while she gazed toward the shore. She could see lights on in Bill Edwards' house and she wondered if he still had company and if they were still having orgies. Somehow she just did not believe that he was the orgy type.
She watched the lights in the big house and she began to swim in the pool of glittering silver and she wished that Bill would come and swim with her. Perhaps if she went to his house and talked to him he might join her and they could swim and talk and she would have company. She was suddenly very lonely and she was sure that Bill was probably still up. Perhaps he was hard at work doing the drawings he should have been doing when he took her to dinner. She came to a decision finally and then she began swimming towards his house. She decided that she would not ring the bell like any usual night visitor. She would go behind the house and find an open window and climb into it. Then she would find him.
The water was warmer as she neared the shore and she loafed a bit on her way. There was something clinging and soothing about the feel of the water around her and it was a feeling that she could enjoy and as she loafed along she gazed toward the big house and she tried to imagine which rooms were which. She had never been in Bill Edwards' house but if it was anything at all like hers the living room would face the lake and the rest of the house would be pretty much functional.
His house was much larger than hers and when she finally stood on the shore, looking at the windows she was surprised to see some of the lights go out. She wondered what he was doing and then she laughed softly as she found the sidewalk that led to the back of the house. She padded along in her bare feet, her bikini dripping as she moved. There was a breeze but it was warm and it helped to dry her off.
When she moved around in back of the house she was prepared to ring the doorbell and then run and hide but she changed her mind. The windows were open and the huge rumpus room was brightly lit and there were quite a few people in the big room.
They were all naked.
She backed away, fearful that she would be seen and accused of being a peeping Tom or a Peeping Tomasina. She wasn't too sure just what she might be called but she was sure that she was going to observe just what was going on at Bill Edwards' house. She remembered that he had told her that there was a never ending orgy going on at his place and she was ready now to believe him.
She knew that the darkness would conceal her and she stood looking into the big play room. She found herself watching the girls at first. Then she began to watch the men, too. Some of the people were involved with various acts of love making and some were just sitting around, sipping coffee or drinks in tall glasses.
The girls who were not busy at the moment were exceptionally pretty girls and she inspected them quite candidly, letting her gaze linger on exceptionally pretty breasts or spectacular hips and thighs and sexual developments. There were few girls still sporting pubic hair. Most of them were blondes and they were as bald as a child in the pubic region. She knew that many girls were using depilatories to remove pubic hair and she had always intended to do it, too, but she just couldn't get up the nerve to do it. When she bought her first can of feminine deodorant spray she had felt guilty and decidedly risque.
She had talked with a girl who worked on one of George Pell's magazine and the girl had revealed that she was one of those who refused to have hair at her crotch. She said that the hair was likely to hold odors until they became offensive, too, the new sprays were much more effective if there was no pubic hair.
"And, of course," the girl had added, smiling, "I can wear any wig and be a redhead or a blonde or a brunette and no one can tell whether I am for real or not. And when I go to bed with the guy, if I do, he can't tell anything about whether my hair is real or not. And, if he goes down, a smooth pussy delights him. So, the benefits are many. Lots of girls are doing it now."
She-had listened and supposed that she was backward, or just too old fashioned to be interested in such advanced toiletage. But she did learn that many girls were disposing of pubic hair and keeping themselves in that condition mainly as an aid to personal daintiness and good hygiene.
Now, standing in the opalescence of a moonlit night, she stood and watched the beautiful young people moving around in Bill Edwards' fancy rumpus room and as she looked a bit more boldly at the naked males in the room she was surprised to see that many of them had dispensed with pubic hair, too. Many of them looked like young boys with dangling penises and when she saw one of them in a state of fierce erection she was very much surprised. All comparison to a very young boy was gone.
It took her a while to pan the room and zero in on this couple or that couple and she stood, shaking while she watched a very beautiful young blonde lying with her head on a man's thigh while her mouth was busy sucking him off. She saw the man's orgasm occur and she watched the lovely girl swallowing the man's nectar. He was sort of holding her head as she moved it up and down and after she forced him into coming, the girl went right on with what she was doing. She had no intention of stopping, it seemed. A nice looking young man, hardly more than a boy, she thought, settled down between the lovely blonde girl's legs and she opened them up as soon as he touched her. Diane stood and stared at the delicate little rose petals guarding the girl's passageway and when the young man touched the dewy petals, the girl shifted her legs and her cheeks hollowed deeply as she sucked fiercely on the penis that was in her mouth. She squirmed and began moving her cute little butt around on the carpeting and Diane could tell that the blonde came with a lovely orgasm as the young man's tongue began working on her hot pink flesh.
Another couple was locked in a session of savage compulation. The girl was writhing, her head twisting from side to side, her arms around the man's shoulders, her heels digging into his back. The girl's bottom was off of the carpeting, she hung suspended and each time the young man drove himself deep inside her, his thighs smacked the girl's buttocks with loud, meaty sounds and she would shake and sway her bottom and then raise her buttocks and thrust her bottom against him in a frenzied attempt to force more bliss from their union. She watched, entranced as the two battled loudly and eagerly toward an orgasm of great magnitude and when it was ebbing, the girl's legs parted and then she slid back to the carpeting, the young man fell on top of her and they lay for a long time, twitching, gasping, cooling.
Diane could feel a quickening in her own loins and she knew that she should stop watching and go home. She was a voyeur, a peeper, and she wondered why it was so easy for her to see into the big room. She turned and saw that a high wall was behind her and the gates in it were locked. So, those who cavorted in the playroom were not nearly so susceptible to casual peepers as she had supposed. She had come by way of the lake so she was special.
She wondered where Bill Edwards could be and she supposed that he had gone to bed. She wondered for a moment if he had gone to bed alone. That bothered her and there was no reason why it should. She and Bill Edwards were friends, but hardly more. When she remembered the things that they had done together she could feel her face flushing even in the darkness.
She scanned the room again, taking one final look before she began making her way back to the lake and her own home. Then she saw Bill and he was as naked as anyone else. Too, he had an immense erection and the girl who had entered the big room with him was handling his organ with her fingers and he seemed to be liking it. She saw that Tom Carter, her new contractor, was with Bill Edwards. He had a cute little redhead on his arm. The girls were nude, very lovely and she saw that Bill's girl was a brassy blonde.
Bill sat down on a couch and his girl slid to the floor at his feet. She began licking his big cock and then she was licking his balls and Bill was sipping a highball while the brassy blonde worked on his sexual parts. Tom Carter and his girl settled down on the floor and they began necking and then Tom was playing with the girl's breast. He found his way to her slippery slit and then he climbed on top of her and the two of them began screwing like wild Indians while Bill Edwards sat and watched them, smiling and squirming a bit as the blonde took him into her mouth and her long red nails began scratching and tickling his balls.
She became excited in spite of herself and watching what was taking place before her eyes was just too much for her to ignore. She could feel the wetness between the lips of her own organ and she sat down, finally, overwhelmed by a sudden sensuality that made her weak and extremely agitated at the same time.
She pulled the ties and her bikini fell away from her crotch and then she began stimulating herself, sliding her finger into her own opening each time she made a downward thrust with her palm.
Her sexual area was already drenched and each time she touched the sensitive little button of flesh atop her sex, she increased the flow of juices and she could see that the girl inside was very expertly bringing Bill to a climax. The girl was using her fingertips and her thumb at the base of his cock to jerk him off while her mouth and tongue pulled every drop of his fluid from him. Watching very closely, Diane could see him pumping his honey into the girl's mouth and she watched the way the girl devoured it all, delicately, hungrily, and enjoyably. She envied the girl her candid fondness for a male's organ and its products. She could remember the taste of Earl and she shivered and then she was coming, a torrent of her sexual sap sliding down into her hand. She slipped her finger past her opening and then she was inserting it into her back hole and she knew then that she had become unusually excited and over-stimulated, too, perhaps. But, she didn't care. Bill was patting the blonde's head and she was sliding her mouth up and down, moving his cock in and out in her mouth like he was screwing her mouth. And, she supposed that was exactly what he was doing. She felt a moment of envy for the brassy blonde and she wished that she could jump through the window and burst upon the scene naked and ready for fun and games but she knew that she could not. She was not the type and she never would be. But she was able to watch the things that were taking place inside the house and sit in darkness using her own hands and fingers to bring herself the relief that she knew she had to have. She hated herself for being weak and she hated herself too for not hating Bill Edwards and his friend, Tom Carter.
She took her gaze off of Bill and his brassy blonde girl friend so that she could watch Tom Carter as he began to thrust his organ forcefully into his girl friend. The two of them were cresting and they were acting with little or no control. She could see the juices running down the girl's crack, soaking her puckered back hole, sliding beyond to disappear into the carpeting. Each time Tom Carter rammed his surprisingly large cock into the red head's twat, another little freshet of juice slipped out of the girl's hole.
Watching that stimulated Diane beyond endurance and she fingered herself furiously, sighing and gasping softly, as orgasm released some of the awful tensions that were burning in her, growing and demoralizing her. She looked up at the sky and the fleecy white clouds that were skipping across the firmament and she hoped that she could become calmed if she stopped looking at the activities that were taking place in Bill Edwards' big playroom.
She didn't last long. Involuntarily, she dropped her head and when she looked into the room again she saw that Bill had slipped down to the floor and he still had an erection. She could see the light glistening on the redness of his cock's tip and she noticed that the blonde was still holding on to it. She felt a swift stab of hurt when she saw Bill's mouth kissing and licking the girl's superb breasts. He was sucking her nipples in turn, handling the plump, firm breasts and he was enjoying himself. She could see that.
A few minutes later Bill put his hand between the blonde's legs and her thighs parted like they were well oiled gates. He moved so that he could mount her and the blonde guided his big cock into her and then the two of them began rutting and they were as much like animals as any pair that she had previously watched. The blonde was wild with sexual excitement and as Bill kept on pistoning his organ into her body, the girl kept on making sharp little yelping sounds and then it ended for them and she realized that her own glands were working, too, and she was having as much thrilling pleasures as the blonde was.
There was a period when her senses returned and calm was again a part of her personality. She was able to sit back in comparative darkness and take a sweeping look at the big playroom and see what else was going on. And there was plenty for her to see.
She watched a very lovely young girl with a big, sleek Doberman and the way the girl was writhing and twisting in tormented sexual frenzy, she was sure that the dog's tongue was doing splendid things for the young girl. She watched a bit more intently and the girl was on her back, her legs parted, while the dog's long tongue really worked feverishly in the rosy cleft of supersensitive flesh. The girl was experiencing excruciating ecstasies and each time she would begin the clenching, expanding business of orgasm the dog's long tongue would slide far up inside and pluck the nectar from its source. And the girl would yelp in quick, searing agony. Hers was the type of torture and torment that was ecstasy distilled.
Watching, Diane was affected and she became aware of the fact that she was having one orgasm after the other. Too, she was honest enough to realize that she was enjoying her time of being a voyeur. She had been so sure that she could be aloof and not be affected by looking at the sexual acts of others.
The way the girl was using the dog fascinated her. In spite of her conviction that such behavior was not at all nice, she found the whole activity fascinating to watch and she was enthralled, intensely turned on and she was again using her fingers quite skillfully on her own sexual flesh while she watched the girl and the dog.
In time the girl became interested in other play and she seemed to know the Doberman quite well. She rolled onto her belly and then she shifted upwards so that she was on her hands and knees and then she snapped her fingers and the dog licked her valley and sexual depths, then the animal mounted her and the girl's hips began swaying and she was making long, whimpering sounds but it was very obvious that the dog was thrilling her with marvelously trained thrustings and clenching. She was able to see it when the girl experienced a great, shuddering climax and the dog came too. The girl fell forward onto her face and when the dog pulled his big organ out of the girl's body, he began licking her between her legs, devouring the materials he had shot into her body.
Diane was shivering and experiencing quick, delicious sexual convulsions and when she saw that the girl was finished for the time being with the dog, she began to look at some of the others.
She saw that Bill was screwing another girl and Tom Carter was sucking a girl's sex while the girl was sucking him. She watched them for a while, enjoying the wild, warm sensations that simply would not die out between her legs.
Watching the activities in the big room that was so near was making her much too excited sexually and she ached with the desire to leave and to get back to her own home and her own bed. She was sure that she would not have any trouble in getting to sleep after all of the horrid things that her glands had forced her to do. She was afraid to move in the night, sure that she would be awkward, sure that someone would spot her in the shadows, or hear her as she tried to move stealthily in the black night.
Someone inside the big room turned on some music and she watched several couples dancing.
People looked so odd when they danced in the nude.
Too, it seemed to her that the girl should not hold the man's penis in her hand while they danced but they id it.
She looked for the girl with the Doberman but she was not in sight. The dog was busy with another girl, but this was something quite different. The girl was lying on her back while a young man with big balls screwed her. All the while that the young couple copulated, the dog's tongue licked the girl's anus and it kept licking all of the juices that were spilling from he girl's well. Too, the animal licked the man's balls and each time the tongue licked at the man's balls, he shivered and shook and another little spurt of fluids escaped from the overstimulated well.
The dog's tongue worked progressively, lingering between the girl's dainty buttocks, then the long, snaking tongue worked for a time rimming the girl's anus, then the young man's dangling balls came in for some attention, but it was when the doberman's tongue licked at the young man's anus that he suddenly shook violently, the girl began to shake and vibrate, too, and then both of them were spending and the young man tried to force his huge organ right through the beautiful young body beneath him.
When the young man rolled off of her, Diane saw that the girl was weeping and she was sure that it was from experiencing ecstasy too intense to be endured without intense reactions, too. The dog moved right in between the girl's saturated thighs and then the animal was sliding its long tongue deep into the overfilled well.
The girl began writhing in sexual bliss, twisting her hips from one side to the other and while the dog's long tongue and eager mouth cleansed the female flesh, Diane sat and shivered as her fingers again brought a new surge of pleasure to her own body.
She decided that she would have to stop looking at the young people who were trying all sorts of sexual acts, if she was to ever attain some measure of control over her body and her emotions.
She wiped her crotch with her bikini and then she put it back on, uncaring about the wetness that it contained now.
She stood, feeling the weakness, the shakiness in her legs. Then she decided that she would have to get away from there. She started walking toward the front of the house and she took one final look at the orgy still going on in the front room.
A moment later she walked into another human being and a quick, frightened gasp escaped her. She looked up and saw the young man looking down at her.
It was Bill Edwards.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The big smile on Bill Edward's face infuriated her. He put his fingertip against his lips and it was a signal for silence. He took her hand and they walked toward the lake. She glanced at him and she could see that he was wearing his swim trunks. He was still holding her hand when they walked into the lake and when the water was up around their chins he let her hand go and they began swimming in the warm, silent waters.
They climbed out of the lake in front of her house and when she turned to bid him good night, he shook his head and she could see his smile, his huge bulk. The moonlight was still bright and she wished that he would go and leave her. He didn't. He caught her hand again and then he led her toward her own house. She went along with him, weak from embarrassment and shame.
"I never figured you for a peeper," he said, quietly.
She was close to tears. "I never did, either."
"Why didn't you come in and join us?" he said. "You would have been most welcome."
"I'll bet," she said.
They walked in silence for a moment or two, then she felt that she had to make him understand what she was doing at his house.
"I swam over and I was looking for you. I was hoping that you would go for a swim with me."
"Well," he said, "I did go for a swim with you."
"Yes," she said.
They were at her door and she was anxious to get rid of him so that she could go to bed, but he was not too eager to be rid of her. He stood for a moment, looking at her. Then he reached for her and he took her into his arms and he kissed her. She was trembling, then she was kissing him back and she was trying to breathe, trying to control her mouth and her tongue and she could not. She wondered for a moment if she was drunk on sex and sensuality and she did not know. She did not care.
They clung to each other and then he took his lips away from her mouth and he placed his cheek against her. She heard his words as he whispered them into her ear.
"I am not going home again," he said. "I won't go."
"I know," she said, nervously. "I know."
He kissed her mouth again, then he picked her up and his arms held her as he carried her into the house. He placed her on her bed and then his fingers undid her halter and her bikini and when he got onto the bed with her his trunks were on the floor and he was as naked as she was. She twisted into his arms and when his hands began touching her, she shivered and she began to burn again. She wondered why she should be so responsive. After all of the self-help that she had indulged in, she should have little interest in sex left in her body. She wanted him to hold her, she was enjoying his gentleness and the sweet kisses he was touching her face with. He was kissing her mouth and her throat and her eyes and his fingers were gently caressing her breasts. She could feel her nipples standing out stiff and straight. They were bursting with their hardness. She was becoming wet again and the slipperiness between her legs was an unmistakable sign that she was responding to his touch and the possible joys of sex with him.
It occurred to her that he was probably too tired to make love to her. After all, he had done that for several of his house guests. Why should he exert himself to do her a favor?
She pushed him away from her and she sat bolt upright. The room was filled with moonlight and she could see that he had an enormous erection. She stifled a tiny smile of delicious delight as she lit a cigarette and then blew the smoke right into his face.
"I think you'd better go home," she said. "It's nice of you to want to help me out, but you've already been too kind. You've done so much already. I saw you with those other girls, and I saw what you did to them. You can't do that with me. You leave me alone and you take that problem you've got to someone else. And, from now on, you stay away from me. Do the work I have hired you to do and leave me alone. Now, you get up and get out of here."
He sat up and he was staring at her. He probed her eyes and her face to make sure that she meant what she said. He pulled her to him and then he kissed her on the mouth and it was a warm, gentle kiss. He pushed her away again. He got out of the bed and he stood for a moment, putting his wet trunks on again. He leaned over the bed again. He found her mouth and he kissed her, then he kissed each nipple and he sucked on it for a moment or two, then he bent way down and his tongue licked her vulva and he kissed her there, too.
A moment later he was gone and she was alone in the big bed. She wept, and she was disgusted with herself. She had to spoil everything. Everything that was nice and enjoyable she had to spoil.
She laid awake for a long time before she finally slept the sleep of the exhausted.
The sounds of men working in her back yard woke her in the morning. She got out of her bed and got under the shower so that she could wake. She had some coffee and then she went to the back door so that she could watch the men at their tasks. There was a great deal of bustling activity and it was very interesting to observe so she stood for a while and watched.
She was looking for Bill Edwards but he was not on the job. She saw Tom Carter and when he was not too busy she offered him a cup of coffee and he accepted it gratefully. She brought him into her kitchen and they sat at the table and he seemed to be a bit tired. Remembering the things that she had seen him doing during the previous night, she realized that he had reason for weariness.
"I didn't see Mr. Edwards out there," she said.
He looked at her and he smiled. "He had to go to another job. He is a very busy man, you know."
Remembering the activities that she had seen Bill Edwards enjoying the previous night, she was quite ready to agree that he was a very busy man. She wondered if Bill Edwards had said anything to Tom Carter about her, but she was afraid to ask.
The contractor had a cigarette with her and a cup of coffee and that was it. He went back to his work and after a while she tired of watching the men and she went into her work room and got started. She worked all of the day, absorbed in what she was doing and she was a bit surprised when she finally took time out for a cup of coffee and a smoke, to discover that the workmen had gone and she was alone. After the loud noises of many hammers all day, the silence was almost shocking and she wondered why she hadn't noticed when the men left.
She was a mess, she knew, and she decided that she would get out of her work clothes and have a shower and get into something light and loose. The prospect of a lonely dinner did not cheer her.
She was sitting at the kitchen table thinking about the cheerless evening ahead for her when the big bulk of Bill Edwards filled the kitchen doorway. He walked in on her and he gave her a big grin.
He said, "Hi. I hear that you missed me, so I came over." He helped himself to coffee and then he sat down and faced her wide-eyed, affronted stare.
"I have come to cheer you up," he said. "When I told Tom about you he offered to come over and kind of help you a little, too."
Her face turned scarlet and she began to tremble.
"You didn't," she said. "I was so sure that you wouldn't."
His smile went away and he was suddenly solemn and sober.
"You're right," he said, crisply. "But, if you give me any more trouble, I will tell him about you. I'll tell everybody. I'll tell them about you sneaking around in the night, peeping into windows and watching what others do, and, because you think you are too damned good to be used by any man, you just push everybody away. Now, you be a good girl and do what I tell you to do and you will live fine, disobey me, or resist me and I will ruin you and turn you over to the sexual wolves you saw romping at my house. Now, which way is it going to be?"
She sat in her chair looking at him and there were tears on her cheeks. They were sliding down her face and she could see no mercy in him. It was the same old story that she had faced before. Why did the people that she liked force her to do things? Why did they treat her like an animal? She could not figure out the answers. She was not able to answer him immediately. She just sat and looked at him and her tears did not affect him at all.
"Please," she said. "No. Don't do this to me. Please don't."
"All right," he said. "I'll tell Tom to drop in on you. He doesn't take no for an answer. And, he may rough you up a little. Maybe he'll bring along one of his girl friends and they will take a few pictures. You'll enjoy it, believe me."
She surrendered in a hurry.
"What do you want from me?" she said, and her voice was almost a scream. "Why can't you just leave me alone? Why?"
"I don't know," he said. "Maybe it's because you are so damned virginal. I don't know, but I want you for my own personal playmate. I will do terrible things to you, probably. There isn't anything that I won't do to you, and you will obey me without question. Is that understood and agreed to?"
"All right," she said, sullenly. "All right."
He laughed at her. "It won't really be that bad, you know. Deep down inside of you, you will enjoy it all. Now, suppose you go and get cleaned up and I will take you out to dinner and then we will go for a ride. Hurry up, now."
She gave him a pseudo-surprised stare. "Don't you want to come and watch me undress and shower? Don't you want to come and inspect your personal property? I mean, after all, when a man has a slave, he should enjoy her."
He grinned and shook his head.
"If I do that we won't go anywhere. And, I want to have a nice evening. Now, you go take care of things and I will go home and dress and I will come by and pick you up later."
"I hate you," she said, without any steam.
"Sure you do," he said. "Get dressed."
He stood up and he was looking down at her and she knew that she looked awful. Why would he want a girl who looked so awful?
"Why can't you be satisfied with those girls you have over at your house?" she said. "I've seen them. Some of them are really very beautiful."
He watched her for a long moment and she could see him trying to find the answer for her.
"I don't really care a damn about any of them," he said. "And I do care about you. I am very much in love with you."
He turned then and he walked out and the kitchen door slammed behind him and she was just too stunned to say anything to him. He was gone by the time it occurred to her that he could mean what he said. She remembered the tenderness that had been in their kisses, she remembered so much that was good and gentle in him, and she found herself wishing that it could be so. But, if he did love her how could he do awful things to her? The whole thing was very perplexing but she did wish that what he said was true. She would like it if he loved her. She would like it very much.
She was very careful with her makeup and her clothing and when he called to take her out to dinner she was so pretty and so well groomed he told her about it. She smiled and when she got into the car she was very quiet and so was he.
"I told Tom Carter that you were going into the city for the day tomorrow," he said.
"I'm not," she said.
"I know. But you aren't going to be around tomorrow. I had to tell him something." She said, "Oh."
She didn't say anything further and neither did he. She was dying to ask him where she would be, but she was afraid to ask. He had a determined expression on his face and she was just a bit afraid of him. She had an idea that he would do anything that he said he would do. She wondered, with a delicious sense of naughtiness, if she could enjoy being his obedient slave. She remembered the experiences that Myrna and Earl had forced upon her and she wondered if it was different doing things with someone that you liked.
They ate in a silence that was probably born of a desire to listen to the music and enjoy it while they relaxed. They had coffee afterwards and then they were able to talk.
"You do say the strangest things," she said, smiling at him. "Do you remember telling me that you love me?"
"Yes," he said. "I think that I am telling you the truth. But, you and I are going to spend a couple of days in a nice little cabin that I have a few miles away from here and by the time we leave there I will know if I am in love with you for sure."
"I am a very docile and obedient slave," she said, still smiling at him teasingly. "I really am."
"You will be," he told her. "If you give me any trouble, I will paddle that pretty little bottom of yours until it stings like a toothache. And, I've got an idea that you might even like that."
She had an idea that she might like being spanked, too, but she didn't say so. She was filled with trembling little sighs and weird urgings. Her sexuality was alive and seething and she could not imagine why she should be so susceptible to Bill Edwards.
She would not become emotionally involved with him, not if she could help it. He was a man, and it was his avowed intention to use her and exploit her sexually and she detested him for that. She hated men who came on strong and tried to use their muscle to force a girl to accede to their wishes. She decided that she would not go anywhere with him. She would relax and enjoy her coffee and a cigarette and then she would tell him that she was not going anywhere with him. He could take her home and then go back to his sex fiends. She thought that she could comfortably do that.
When he asked her to dance she was pleased. The music was good, the restaurant was subdued and quite beautiful and she felt like dancing. He did, too, apparently, because they danced for hours and they had several drinks in between dances.
And then it was time to leave and she told him that she wanted to be taken home.
"No," he said. "I don't think so. I have other plans and that is what we are going to do."
She shook her head and her smile dazzled him. She sipped the dregs of her last drink, ready to walk out to the car.
"I am not going to forced or coerced by you or anyone else. Not ever again. I don't care what you do."
He smiled and then he shook his head pityingly.
"All right," he said. "You really are not that good in bed. So, have it your way. You go home and go to bed and I'll send Tom Carter over to brighten up your night. Maybe some of the others, too. You will have a busy night, believe me."
"You wouldn't dare do something like that," she protested. "I will call the police."
"You do that, honey," he said. "And then we'll show them the pictures we took of you outside my place last night. I had the infra-red camera and when I saw the things that you were doing, I just figured that I would get me some beautiful pictures. You can look at them if you want to. You know all about infra-red cameras, don't you, darling?"
She gazed at him and she realized that he was probably telling her the truth. He probably did have the pictures. Remembering the fierce masturbatory techniques she had enjoyed, she was suddenly ill. She could feel her stomach heaving and churning and when he took her elbow to help her out of the restaurant, she was grateful.
He got her settled in the car and when he got in, he looked at her. She was close to tears and utterly beaten.
"You don't really want me to take you home now that you think it all over, do you?"
She shook her head slowly and then the tears came and she could feel them on her lips. She was furious with herself, and very much disgusted with life in general. He lit a cigarette and gave it to her. She took it.
"Why are you crying?" he asked. "I thought you'd enjoy being blackmailed. I really did."
She shrugged. "Maybe, I don't know. But, I know why I am crying. I am a born loser, I guess. That is what distresses me so much. I always have to lose."
He leaned over and his mouth found hers in the darkness and he didn't seem to mind kissing her tears.
"You are too quick to judge things," he said. "Who knows, you just might end up a winner."
"Sure," she said, disgustedly.
He started the car and he began driving along the throughway and she sat as far from him as she could get and she stared out of the window, enjoying the air conditioned comfort of the car. He tried to talk to her but she did not want to talk. She was still weepy and disconsolate and she finally fell asleep. The motion of the car, her emotional state and a full belly probably all contributed to putting her to sleep.
She woke when he was trying to get her out of the car. The night was all around them and she was in a strange place, but the cabin was really a lodge and there were lights on inside. She pushed his hands away and she told him that she could walk.
He led her into the building and she was astonished by its beauty. There was no one else there. He had entered and turned the lights on before he woke her. She stood in the big living room looking around her and the beautiful woods and paneling delighted her artist's eye. The furniture was good, leathers and gold and pale tints. He took her coat from her and hung it in a closet. Then he took her hand and they toured the place. There were three big bedrooms, a gleaming kitchen, twin baths and a three car garage.
"I come up here when I have to get away from the mob and get some work done. It is a nice quiet place to get things done in."
"I'm sure it is," she said. She was entranced by the beauty of his home away from home and she said so. He was watching her and he could see the way she liked his house in her eyes. He kissed her and she shivered. He opened her blouse and she stood quite still, playing the role of the docile, obedient slave girl.
He undressed her where she stood, and she let him do it without one word of protest. When she was naked, he pulled her into his arms and he kissed her and she let him do it. He put his hands on her breasts and she liked his touch. She knew that she hated sex and people who thought it so important but she was responding to his touch and when he put his fingers into her sensitive flesh she was very wet and he smiled at her.
"You look like the most beautiful statue," he said, "but, a statue doesn't have a wet cunt. You do."
"I am very glad that you like my cunt," she said. "I have never used that word to anyone in my whole life. It isn't really that awful is it? They use it all the time in books."
"You can use it any time you want to," he said. "You know, when we are all by ourselves. I wouldn't want you talking like that to anyone."
She nodded gravely. "I will just say dirty words to you, my master."
He laughed at her solemnity. He moved his hands and placed his palms against her buttocks and he pulled her closer to him. He kissed her and she began to squirm in his hands and in his embrace. He let her go and he stepped back and she stood while he looked at her and when he walked around so that he could look at her from the rear she still remained quite motionless. He came to stand in front of her again and the look in his eyes thrilled her.
"You are unbelievably beautiful," he said.
She could see that he meant it, and that sort of a compliment was not what she had expected. She felt the sting of tears against her lids and she turned away from him. She didn't want to cry. She wanted to have the strength to do what she had to do, and that was all. It was the same old situation that she had endured with Myrna and Earl and she was defenseless and she would have to be obedient or face dire consequences.
"You come with me," he said.
He took her hand and he led her into the master bedroom. The bed was king sized and the room was quite large and very nicely furnished. There were heavy drapes at the windows and one wall was painted a stark white and the other walls were mirrored. It was very obviously a room for lovemaking and as she watched him getting undressed, she began to feel the first stirrings of a dormant sexuality and it appalled her that she could be sitting on a man's bed, naked, knowing that she was going to spend the night there and not be too greatly turned off. If anything, she was going just the other way. She saw his erection and she wished for the courage to reach out and touch it. She did nothing. She sat on her haunches, her legs tight together, her arms folded across her breasts and she sat there smoking one of his cigarettes, watching him as he walked around the room, disposing of his clothes as he took them off. When he was naked he came over to the bed and his arms went around her and she was ice as he found her mouth and kissed it.
He was ardent and seeking, his tongue sliding into her mouth, tasting her. His hands tried to find her breasts and she had them hidden under her folded arms.
"Put your arms around me, and cooperate," he said, "or I will spank the living hell out of you."
She shivered but she did not move. He sighed and then he backed off of the bed and when he opened a bureau drawer he brought out a short length of wide, perforated strap. It looked like a piece of an old fashioned razor strop. The perforations were studded with brass eyelets and there was a handle that fitted into his palm. She watched him, suddenly afraid. The look on his face frightened her.
There was a chair beside the bed and he moved that away from the bed. He reached for her and he moved like blurred lightning. In a second she was across his lap as he sat on the chair and the first time the strap hit her plump bottom she screamed in quick, anguished protest, and then he hit her sensitive flesh again and her bottom was alive and squirming with crawling, blazing sensations that quickly became erotic. He began swatting her bottom, first one haunch, then the other and she kept on screaming, protesting at the top of her lungs.
"You scream all you want, honey," he said. "The place is soundproofed and there isn't a neighbor within a mile. So, you just holler all you want to."
He hit her again and again and she became more and more excited with each blow. She could feel the gathering, quickening sensations in her loins and she became conscious of extremely pleasurable feelings. The red hot agonies that he was engendering in her bottom and midsection were changing character and as his strap continued its steady, rhythmic assault on her delicate flesh she could feel her first orgasm beginning and it was a wild one. Her whole sexual area was involved and she felt like she was pouring red hot liquids and they were travelling along tubes that were just too sensitive, and instead of subsiding, her climaxes seemed to grow more and more intense, each one lasting longer than the other.
She was building toward an impossible, cresting glory and she could sense that. She had stopped screaming a long time earlier and her sounds were whimpers and groans but they were sounds born of intense, excruciating pleasures. She had never supposed that a human being could know such ecstasies and live to enjoy them again.
He stopped flailing away at her flesh and she cried out in protest and then she was begging, pleading for an end to torments.
She was sobbing and her whole mid-section was squirming on his lap and she wept in purest sexual anguish and splendor.
"No," she begged, "don't stop. Please, don't stop. I'm so close, don't stop now. Please no."
She was like a sack of meal across his legs and her bottom was red and swollen. She could see it in the mirror and when he put his warm palm on her buttocks it was pure torture. He bent forward and his mouth kissed each quivering, seething globe. He hit her again then and she cried out again in renewed agony, and then he kept on hitting her with the brass studded strap and she began crawfishing on his legs and her sexual flesh gathered and sucked up inside of her body and then she lifted her bottom slightly and then he was hitting her most sensitive meat with the vicious strap and then he hit a certain special spot and that did it for her.
Her whole being became convulsed, locked in a fierce, hung up spasm of super sensitive flesh and he seemed to know just where she was. He shortened his strap by moving his hand and then he was belaboring her sexual parts with short, frenzied slaps and then it happened for her and she was sure that she was going to die, too deeply immersed in pure ecstasy to ever return to this life. She had lost all control and she wet all over him and he didn't seem to care. She spilled onto the floor and she was rolling from side to side, trying to endure the intense, anguished rigors of pure, raw, sensation. Her whole being was shaking as though she had a chill and she could feel the juices trickling from her loins as one orgasm after another raced through her body, treating her to the most wonderful sensations she had ever known.
He slid to the floor and he got himself into her clenching opening and while she was trying to survive the rigorous orgasms and excitements that his strap had induced in her, she could feel his organ sliding in and out of flesh too inflamed to endure more and she clutched him, sobbing and groaning and then he was coming in her and she could tell that he had been affected by his abuse of her and he was experiencing an orgasm of fantastic proportions and when he collapsed on her and the carpeting was hurting her sore and tender body, she didn't say a word. Her arms were around him and she was moving her hips slowly, and she was enjoying the feel of him inside of her body.
She had come when he did, she knew that. And while he laid on her, too enervated to move, she held him as a mother might hold a starving child whose torments she had eased. His cock was growing small and she could feel it withdrawing and she hated it when he finally fell out of her. He groaned and then he moved. He found her mouth and he kissed her. He reached for cigarettes and lit two. He gave one to her and she accepted it. She wanted to move, to do something about the juices that were leaking out of her and she knew that her bottom was achy, tender, and exceedingly sore.
"Just be still," he said, panting, "we will have a smoke and then I will take care of you. I will make your bottom feel better."
"Thank you," she said, politely. "It hurts."
"Sure, it hurts. But, you don't care. You really had yourself a time, didn't you."
She snickered and she didn't look at him. "I'm sure that I will turn out to be a very disobedient slave girl. You will probably have to spank me quite often."
"It will be my pleasure," he said.
She snickered again. "Not really. It will be mine."
He picked her up in his arms and he didn't mind when she leaked all over his naked body. He carried her into the bathroom and he dug out the vaginal syringe and while he was fixing a hot tub for her, she used the syringe to eradicate all traces of materials that could affect her daintiness. He watched her, smiling.
"We'll let you soak in a hot tub for a while, then I'll dry you off and massage some cold cream into your bottom and you will be fine again and as good as ever."
"Does that mean that you are going to take care of me and my needs while I'm here?"
He nodded. "Sure, why not? I know just what to do for you."
"I'll bet you've had lots of experience," she said viciously. "Do all your girl friends like being paddled?"
"Most of them. You know what it does now. It turns on most girls. Some go a little nuts when it is done to them. Some get wilder than others. You are just beginning. Wait till after we are married a few years. You will really burn up."
"Oh," she said smiling as she stepped into the tub. "Are we going to be married?"
She sat down and she felt the hot water easing the pains and aches in her bottom and it was a very surprising panacea. He was standing close to her, his organ stiff again and she wished that she had the courage to reach out and handle it. He was not asking her to handle his organ. He was not asking her to do anything.
It was just something that she suddenly wanted to do.
But there was something on Bill's mind as well.
"Do you have a pair of boots around here?" he asked. Diane looked at him. "Sure, but why?"
"Don't ask questions. It's something I have to do. Please go put them on and come back."
Diane didn't understand what he was doing, but if he wanted her to, she would put anything on. She smiled as she searched the closet. It might be fun after all. Stranger things had worked out nicely, and there was no reason to suppose that this would be a bust.
She slipped on a pair of boots that appealed to her. They were strange, old-fashioned sort of boots, in a Victorian style. She lingered over them, running her hands along the smooth leather.
Then she walked back to the bathroom. It was very quiet inside, and as she stepped through the door she felt Bill's arms come around hers.
Suddenly he pulled her arms behind her and tied them. "What? What are you doing?" Diane screamed.
He pulled a towel from the rack and stuffed it in her mouth. Less noise. Bill thought.
She was naked, wonderfully nude and enticing. Bill let his eyes roam freely and lustfully up and down her body. Now that her hands were pinioned and tied behind her back, she could not even make a move to cover herself. Her smooth girlish breasts made his mouth water and he gazed at the tender fleecy patch of fur between her legs, eager to once again explore the terrain of her musky little furrow.
Just staring at her, ogling her nude body, brought back a memory that filled him with sudden pain. He visibly winced, recalling the anguish he had experienced the night before, remembering the pain of being guilty of rape, sodomy and physical abuse. His conscience still hurt and as he recalled what he had done to her-with Diane's help needless to say-he became more determined than ever to demonstrate the fact that his masculinity was still whole and intact, not yet destroyed by their sadistic and tormenting machinations.
He smacked his lips and grinned more wolfishly than ever, quickly becoming aroused as he continued to gaze at the blonde's slim and fetching body. "Well my dear," he said with a caustic laugh, "it's time I really got down to business, don't you agree?"
Certain he heard a murmur of muffled protest, he smiled once again and got quickly to his feet. The prospect of what lay ahead, getting back at Diane in a way that would be totally pleasurable for him and totally painful for her, could not have delighted him more. He let the towel he had tied loosely around his waist drop to the tiled floor. His truncheon rose up, testament to his considerable sexual excitement.
Diane, he decided, still didn't understand what he intended to do. But the element of surprise, that and taking her against her will, just as he had taken her before, pleased him to no end. He moved towards her and turned her roughly over, forcing her onto her knees. Again she protested, trying to pull away from him. But he gripped her firmly, admiring her nude and trembling body.
All she wore were Victorian boots of black crushed leather. The arcane footwear appealed to him, particularly the fact that the knee-high boots were equipped with long fetching stiletto heels, symbolic of the way she had acted, so masterful and dominating the night before. But now it was his turn to call the shots, to do as he pleased. Diane could protest all she wished; nothing was going to make Bill Edwards change his mind or alter the scheme which had emerged, full-blown, in his thoughts.
But first he tried something he would never have dreamed himself capable of, particularly in light of what the young woman had already done to him. He bent forward and even as she turned her head nervously over her shoulder, he thrust out his tongue and lashed it along the instep of one of her boots.
She froze and seemed to smile cruelly as he tasted the leather and licked back and forth, finally pressing his parted lips right around the bottom of one of the high heels. Bill didn't stop to think what he was doing, nor did he question his actions or his motives. He was curious and oddly intrigued and now proceeded to suck in half the length of the long epicene heel.
Diane didn't move a muscle, as if she were enjoying this perverse display. The fetishistic nature of the act didn't enter Bill's head. He wanted to sate his sexual curiosity and didn't linger on the inner meaning of his actions. Instead, he sucked in still more of the heel, not stopping until he had consumed all five stiff leathery inches, his lips rubbing against the leather sole of the boot.
His tongue slid up and down and he began to move his head back and forth, sucking on the heel like a child sucking his thumb or, more graphically, someone sucking a phallus, slobbering and lapping with obvious bestial relish. He didn't stop, but kept at it, paying the heel the kind of attention it seemed to naturally deserve. He didn't understand what was moving him to do this, but it was enough that it aroused him, that it caused his meaty weapon to throb with almost painful virile insistence.
She murmured her approval and he could see her nodding her head, up and down, again and again. He transferred his attentions to her other boot, giving the second of the two high heels the same brand of erotic attention. His lips sucked tightly and his head bobbed up and down as he gurgled loudly and excitedly.
From the heel, his tongue rasped up along the side of one of the boots, lavishing it with liquidy attention, tonguing and slurping even as he kept gazing at Diane's pale and tawny thatch. The drooping petal-thin lips of her vagina could just be seen between her legs. With one hand he began to caress the trembling ripe little cheeks of her slim and boyish ass, loving the warmth and silky smoothness of her gluteal flesh.
She wasn't moving, neither flinching nor pulling away. Her boots had become part of her body, her very being. He felt just as aroused by them as he did by the rest of her body. Accordingly, he continued to lavish his oral caresses on her high-heeled footwear. A steamy and provocative scent rose up in the air, mingling with the more pungent aroma of his sweaty and naked body.
Bill was consumed by excitement he had not often felt before. He felt moved to remove the towel he had stuffed halfway down her throat, eager to hear her moaning with pleasure, egging him on with her whimpers of sexual agitation. But he decided against taking an unnecessary risk, not wanting anyone to know what was happening behind the locked bathroom door.
So he kept the gag in place and continued to slide his tongue, stretched to its fullest, up and down her boots. He reamed the edge of the leather shoes, licking her bare smooth flanks and tasting the dried salty sweat which lingered like powder on her skin. When the boots were gleaming with his spittle, the leather cleaned and polished, the heels sucked adoringly and even the soles of the shoes swabbed with his wide raspy-edged tongue, he transferred his attentions to her actual body.
He labored over the backs of her thighs, the smooth resilient flesh making his mouth water. He was taking his time, no longer anxious, no longer about to rush into acts which, by prolonging as long as possible, became even more exciting and sexually arousing. Her buttocks merged with her thighs in a gentle outward surge of soft fatty tissue. He slobbered over her unwrinkled skin, leaving the backs of her thighs to ply his probing tongue up across her buttocks.
Soft low-pitched murmurs could now be heard, sibilant whispered moans of pleasure. Certain that she was appreciating his attentions, he kept at it, licking and nipping gently at her nether globes. Then, using both of his hands, he ever so gently and cautiously eased apart her slim dimpled orbs.
The narrow reddened furrow was pink and nearly hairless, save for a pale-bonde fringe of fur which grew up along her fissure from the bottom edge of her pubic mound. Extending his tongue to its fullest, he lapped hungrily, eagerly, sliding his tongue back and forth along the entire edge of her bum furrow.
He lingered at the extreme bottom edge of her vagina. Musky dewdrops of nectar seeped down and he swallowed them excitedly before sliding his tongue back up along her anal groove. He paid particular attention to the narrow ring of concentric wrinkles, puckered lines which seemingly swirled around the rosy-red rosette that was her anus.
Her sphincter muscles were loose, not clenched or held tightly. He took the opportunity of pushing the tip of his tongue right inside her narrow aperture. Obviously, analingus appealed to her, for she was doing everything she possibly could to encourage him to continue his anal probing.
Bill was aware of this and smiled to himself. She was yet to realize what his attentions were all leading up to, what ultimate act or reprisal and punishment he had in mind. But before he attempted that, he wanted to prepare her and pushed his tongue as far inside of her dry piquant rectum as he possibly could. A faint sour odor assailed his nostrils. But the gamy aroma was an aphrodisiacal perfume and his tongue slid in and out, sharp pis-toning motions which mady her churn her hips in lewd and agitated response.
His fingers pulled her narrow buttocks even farther apart, stretching the naked sensitive perianal flesh. The slit of her anal opening spread wider apart as a result of the pressure he was exerting, enabling him to move his tongue even more easily than before. Then, letting go of one buttock, he slid his fingers down below her anal furrow and probed the wet sticky opening of her vagina.
Diane stiffened the moment he eased his index finger between the puffy flaps of tissue which bordered her gash. He felt the knobby little button that was her clitoris and began to strum it back and forth with the tip of his stiffened and extended finger. Her anal walls now clenched tightly in sympathetic response, nipping at his tongue and nearly succeeding in holding it in place, deep within her dry narrow passageway. And, at the same instant, he could feel the pressure of his finger against the septum dividing one opening from the other.
He eased in a second finger, widening her vulva, causing her anal walls to tighten even more forcefully around his slurping tongue. She was trembling excitedly now and all this time he had done nothing to stimulate his own pendulous and steely weapon.
His penis was fully erect and rose out from his hairy root, the blood-engorged glans capped with a sticky pearly drop of pre-seminal fluid. Blue veins braided the upraised shaft of his meaty charger and his ballocks swung back and forth as his tongue continued to ease in and out of the young woman's tight and delicious little fundament.
But finally, having easily aroused both of them in no time at all, Bill was ready for the act he had purposely avoided by prolonging the period of foreplay. He was positive that Diane would now be taken completely by surprise, not at all prepared for what he was about to do. No doubt, she probably expected him to take her from the rear, in the fashion of dogs coupling with barks and snapping cries.
From the rear all right, he thought to himself. But not where she thinks, that's for sure.
He grinned excitedly, having turned the tables on her, finally and at long last. He was ready to complete what he had started and slid his tongue back out into the open. Then, pushing her farther down on the damp floor so that her tight little rump stuck out at an inviting and assailable angle, he gripped the base of his penis with one hand and directed the velvet-smooth glans right up against Diane's tight puckered anus.
Even as she screamed behind her gag, he was already tunneling into her, not about to stop until he had raped her, just as he himself had raped her the night before.
Nothing mattered but the act of sodomy, anal intercourse.
Nothing filled Bill's lurid thoughts but the promise of pleasure, pleasure he would experience at Diane's painful expense.
The very act he had chosen was one which was degrading as well as physically abusive. He was positive she had never been cornholed before and that he was entering virgin territory only served to fire him up all the more. Even as she writhed against him and tried to jerk free of his crushing hold, Bill was pushing forward with all of his might.
Having aligned the head of his penis with the narrow pink rosette of her anal sphincter, he centered his weight on his hips and pushed violently and viciously forward. A scream could be heard, lingering on the other side of the gag he had stuffed into her mouth. The pain-racked moan, barely audible but nonetheless easily understood, only added to his excitement.
He felt and saw his glans hitting against her narrow tightly clenched asshole. The fact that she was putting up a fight, or as much of a fight as she was capable under the circumstances, delighted him to no end. Had she been passive, or had she encouraged him to cornhole her, he knew he would not be nearly as aroused as he was now.
But she was not inviting him to sodomize her and this made Bill grin hotly as he kept her bottom cheeks as far apart as he could. He hammered down once again, slowly but surely succeeding. The head of his penis was forcing her anal folds apart and a moment later he groaned with rare delight as he felt the head of his stiff-standing weapon sliding right inside her hot dry passageway.
He looked down and grinned at the sight. Her anus was stretched grotesquely, forced to accommodate his virile and agitated weapon. She was shaking violently, twisting back and forth in a maddened attempt to pull away from him. He clutched her more tightly and thrust down, tearing into her with one hungry sexually crazed motion.
His phallus plowed a wide hot furrow into the depths of her bottom. The walls of her anus embraced the rounded sides of his penis and he did not stop until he had given her everything he had to offer. "Just be grateful I'm not hung the way some are," he murmured, though it was obviously small comfort, now that he had already succeeded in taking her the way he had planned.
He dug in even more, drilling down until he could feel his wiry pubic bush rubbing and scratching against the smooth trembling cheeks of her backside. His dangling scrotum sac slapped back and forth, hitting against her vaginal lips. The entire hard length of his hose was hidden from sight, ensheathed within her rectum.
Bill had never done this before, but he had taken to it like the proverbial duck takes to water. And now that he had succeeded, he stopped just long enough to catch his breath and admire his handiwork, if that was the term for it. He glanced down and saw how he was tightly coupled, his penis completely immersed within her hot and shuddering poop.
'Does it feel good, Diane dear?" he asked with a wicked and victorious laugh. "I bet it feels better than anything you've ever felt before, right?"
He wrenched brutally and suddenly back before slamming the full erect length of his weapon down into place. Her weak and feeble moans of agony delighted him and he began to piston his penis in and out with one hard lunging stroke after another.
He didn't want to climax until it was absolutely impossible to hold back. Accordingly, he slowed down and began to take his time, no longer afraid that Diane might get the best of him. She was helpless, unable to escape and he rammed in and out with one hard penetrating motion after another.
The friction of her tight dry bottom heated up his equally dry penis. He hadn't-and purposely so-even bothered to lubricate his organ, causing her even more pain than if he had rubbed spittle up and down his erection. He let go of her buttocks then and slid his hands up past her waist. His fingers made contact with her smooth cone-shaped breasts and he began to pinch and tug at her nipples until they were stiff and turgid, completely erect.
"You love it, don't you, don't you," he said again, moaning now as he felt himself growing quickly insensible. He pounded faster then, beating out a hard punishing tattoo. His fingers clased at her breasts and sweat dripped down his hairy chest to fill her burning and stretched anal furrow.
The loud smacking sounds of flesh colliding with flesh now rose up above the level of the running water. He sucked in his breath and knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer. Then he stopped, freezing in mid-stroke, waiting until the wild throbbing of his erection gradually diminished.
Again he continued, looking down between his legs to ogle the progress of his burning hard tool. His skin was being rubbed raw from the constant stroking and he could feel his semen churning inside his testicles, ready to erupt in another minute or two. "Oh yeah, you little bitch," he swore, "this is too good for you, too merciful. But it's only the beginning, only the start."
He pounded down with a brutal and punishing motion, causing her to hit her head against the locked bathroom door. Even as she sank feebly down, stretching out on the wet floor so that he eagerly climbed up on top of her and kept ramming his hose in and out of her bottom, he was reviling her with all manner of curses, as if he were venting some long age accumulation of rage he had kept inside of himself for years.
He felt his testicles being pulled up, high within his swaying scrotum. His muscles stiffened and he gave a low-pitched moan and clamped his lips together, stifling the cry of triumph and erotic fulfillment.
Beneath him, he could feel her growing just as tense and he wondered if she too were going to reach her climax. Not that it mattered, for now there was no way to stop himself, no way at all.
Minutes later he was still lying on top of her, his penis having gone limp, though still hidden from sight, buried within her come-filled semen-flooded bottom. He still didn't know if she too had climaxed, but it no longer mattered or seemed to amount to anything of importance. He had satisfied his carnal lusts and that's what counted, so far as Bill was concerned.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She was sure that he was clowning about love and marriage and she hated that in him. She let him do as he wished with her body and when she had soaked while he showered, and he was ready to deal with her, he had her stand, he dried her gingerly then he led her back to the bed. He stretched a towel beneath her belly and he massaged a sort of cold cream into her buttocks and all of the flesh in her midsection. When his fingers massaged her sexual flesh she began squirming and writhing and she got so close to an orgasm she let him complete it for her with his fingers.
He was enormous again and she thought that he was either oversexed or a satyr or a bit of both perhaps.
His hands and the treatment that he gave her erased all of the aches and pain and the twinges and she was quite as good as new when he finally finished with her. She liked the feel of his hands on her body and she was tempted to tell him that, but she decided to keep quiet. He already knew too much about her.
She supposed that they would sleep when he got onto the bed with her, but he had other ideas. He began kissing her, loving her lips and her breasts and she became very much turned on all over again and she wondered about herself. She was becoming as horny as he was.
His lips kissed her everywhere and she was not too surprised when he reversed himself in the bed and then she could feel the warmth and the wetness of his tongue in her sexual opening and then his mouth glued itself to her vulva and she began squirming in lovely agitation.
He was lying on his side and so was she and she could see his huge organ close to her mouth. She could not stifle the urge to lick it, to taste the fluid that was welling from it as he made her crest and burst with his expert tongue. She reached out and found him and she sighed with a swift sense of relief and release as she took him into her mouth. He began moving his hips and she knew that she was pleasing him. He was large in her mouth and he was expelling a great deal of sap and then he thrust himself towards her in an action that she was sure was involuntary and she didn't mind because she was experiencing a massive, drenching orgasm and when he erupted in her mouth and his product spurted into her throat she swallowed it all because she was too agitated by her own orgasms to think or to do anything else.
When he was done and her own climax was over, she wriggled herself into a position of greater comfort and while he continued to lick and tongue her organs she did as much for him and she was to make him spend again before exhaustion finally pushed her into slumber.
She woke refreshed in the morning and she knew that she had not had any bad dreams. She had probably had her best night of rest in ages. She sat up in the big bed and she was alone. The incomparable fragrances of strong coffee, bacon and eggs and toast were all around her and when she sniffed she was so hungry she was almost ill. She lit a cigarette and she was sitting up, comfortably naked, enjoying her first smoke of the day when Bill brought a tray to her. There were all sorts of goodies on the tray and she began eating and drinking the coffee while he was still bringing his own breakfast into the room. She smiled at him and then she saw that he had an erection and she reached for it, held it. There were tiny red marks on the head of it and when he saw her looking at it, he explained.
"Your teeth did that," he said. "You are a cocksucker. I had no idea."
She was not insulted. She laughed. "I didn't either." She moved so that she could kiss the tip of his cock, and then she was licking it and he stopped eating and let her do as she pleased with him. She put her fingers around the base of his organ and she realized that she was really quite skillful and very expert. After all, Myrna and Earl had taught her well and it was something that was easily retained.
Once a cocksucker; always a cocksucker, she thought, a bit frantically. She was tasting him and that threw her into a brand new orbit and she was suddenly avid, fiercely in need of sexual tidbits. She gave him a crooked smile as she put her mouth over his organ. She remembered how she had been taught to tickle Earl's balls and she did the same things to Bill and she had him erupting in seconds. She devoured him, feasting upon his honey as though it were a part of breakfast, and perhaps, for her, it was.
She lingered long after his orgasm and then she finally let him go. She looked at him and she knew that she was blushing. He grinned and then he resumed eating.
"There is nice service around here," she said. "I am not used to having someone wait on me and cook for me."
"Well," he said, grinning, "you are going to have a busy day ahead of you and I want you to save your strength. You will need it."
"You are scaring me," she said. She put her hand onto her buttock and she was astonished to find that all semblance of pain or bruises had gone. She stretched out on the bed and she shifted her legs, stretching her body. She was naked and he was looking at her and it didn't upset her that much. She rather liked it.
She offered to help with the dishes but he refused her offer. He suggested that she go to the bathroom and do whatever was necessary and then they would begin having fun.
"I want a shower," she said. "Why don't you have some more coffee?"
"We will both have some more coffee," he said. "There is something that I want to do. Just lie down and relax."
He pushed her back onto the bed and she obeyed him. That was the name of the game they were playing, anyway. He went into the bathroom and when he returned to her he was holding a tall, slender can in his fingers. And, he had a big tur-kish towel too. He told her to lift her hips and when she did it, he spread the towel beneath her hips. He told her to open her legs as far as she could and when she did that, he pointed the can's nozzle toward her crotch and he pressed a button and sprayed her whole sexual area. A white foam covered her everywhere and she was expecting some new thrill but that was not what he had in mind. He put the can down on the night table and she picked it up and read the label. It was a depilatory.
He grinned down at her. "Just stay there and let it work. By the time you have another cup of coffee you can take your shower and all of the hair will wash right off and you will be soft and smooth down there. When I eat cunt I don't like hair in my nose. All right?"
She opened her eyes wide, and she smiled. "I wouldn't dream of making you unhappy when you are eating cunt. Just enjoy yourself, and if I don't make the grade on some of these things, maybe we can call up my sister."
He stood up and looked at her with an odd expression.
"Do you have a sister?" he asked.
She shook her head and he seemed relieved.
"I'm glad," he said. "I wouldn't want to marry you and then discover that I had married the wrong sister."
He went and got some fresh coffee for them and when she was sipping hers, she looked him in the eye and she was beseeching him.
"Please, Bill," she said. "Don't make jokes about love and marriage. I don't like that."
He gazed at her like he thought she was demented.
"I don't make jokes about such things, either," he said.
He lit a cigarette and suddenly she could see that he was not clowning in any way. He was trembling as he blew out some smoke.
"I guess that I am presuming," he said, "but, I am very much in love with you. I'm so crazy about you I am half out of my mind. I wish you would marry me. I am sure that I can make you happy. I know that you are a little screwed up about sex and things like that, but you are all that I will ever want. Hell, I'm so crazy, I even told George Pell that I was going to ask you to marry me. He said it was fine. He approved."
She sat up straight and the tears were streaming down her cheeks, the depilatory was bubbling and working between her legs and she felt like she was the big spring thaw in Alaska. He saw her tears and he was very much distressed, sorry because he had upset her. He began apologizing to her. She reached out and hushed him with a fingertip on his lips.
"I love you, too," she wailed. "Do you think I could do things like we've done with anyone else? But, I don't want to reach for something and then have it fall apart on me. I've been alone and unhappy for so long."
Solemnly, he said, "Will you marry me, Diane?"
Solemnly, she said, "Yes, oh yes. Oh, dear God, yes."
They knew that it wasn't over.
Diane had not asked him about his escapade in the bathroom. She knew that he had worked something out for himself, but there was still something incomplete about the whole thing.
"Shall we?" she asked.
Bill grinned at her. "You are truely insatiable," he said. "Of course, that's what I love about you!"
They were in the bedroom quickly, and their warm bodies complemented each other nicely. Bill thought. She laid atop him and he looked up at her girlish face, now oddly distorted by the strong, lustful urges she was feeling.
He was strongly erect and he wanted to waste no time with it. He rolled her over onto her back and slid easily into her, as deep as he could on the first stroke.
"You feel great!" Bill exclaimed. "Juiced and ready to go!"
Diane laughed. "It's because of you," she said. "I don't know what it is, but you turn me on like no man ever did-and I don't mean to say I'm crazy about everything you do!" That was her only reference to the scene in the bathroom.
It was warm and muggy in the bedroom and their bodies gleamed with sweat as Bill shoved it to her. She clung to him tightly, loving the way his hard body beat against her as he thrust into her with all his might. It was if he were trying to kill with love, and she had no wish but to go all the way.
"Now, now! I'm coming, coming! Eiiiii!"
They both rode the wild wave, jamming their bodies together with incredible speed as the erotic explosions of release shook them and gripped them!
"Yes! Oh, you great piece! That way! Yes!"
"Hammer me! Jam it to me! Oh, God! Ah! Aiiii!"
They cried out and clung to each other, hips slamming and rotating and bucking as if out of control. Great waves of heat took them, covered them, and release came in jarring spurts.
And then it was over. He lay on her. They were panting so deeply that they couldn't speak. It had been violent and wonderful after the long, slow teasing of the buildup. She kept her thighs clamped tightly to hold his softening rod deep within her steaming cave.
"Ah, Bill, that was so good!" she sighed in honest appreciation of his skill.
"You're the best I've ever had. It's as if I've never been laid before. My God, you make love fantastically!"
"I think it was a wonderful, mutual effort, darling. But, oh, my, it was good," she whispered happily.
"It sure was!"
"You certainly lived up to your advance press notices," she smiled as she hugged him close. His face was buried between her heavy breasts.
"Glad I lived up to them."
"You sure did!".
"Glad you approved, Diane."
"I approved so much I want more of you, much more, Bill darling."
He kissed over her breasts as he lay there on her, his still soft lance buried within her ultimate lips.
"I'll give you more in a few moments."
"Ummm, that'll be nice. Bill! You're starting to go hard inside of me! I can feel it! Oh, this is wonderful!"
"It sure is!"
"I can feel it growing inside," she smiled happily, kissing him with passion.
"I can feel it too. And I can feel you using those terrific inside muscles on my growing boy."
"Oh, so gooooood...." she sighed as his hard lance began to move in and out, slowly, slowly.
"Move around slow, like. Let's make this one last, honey."
"Oh, yes...."
Diane moved her buttocks slowly in a heaving, rotating circle as she felt the rhythm of his hard pecker as it slid slowly in and out of her hot slit.
The rhythm slowly increased and the passion that the driving pecker stimulated made them both begin to strain and breathe more deeply.
"You're stroking me up to a long, deep, slow make, darling," she purred as she squirmed her slit round and round and up and down on his jabbing pole.
"It's going to be nice, very nice, honey."
On and on they drove, speed increasing slowly, breathing growing more and more ragged.
"Oh, I'm going to explode! I can feel it building! Oh, it's going to be wonderful!"
"You're on the edge of the cliff?" he said as he slid his hardness in and out of her clinging slit.
"Yes! I'm right on the edge of it!"
"Good!"
And with that he suddenly pulled his erection, slick and red, from her hot channel.
"What? Where? Come back! What are you doing!?" Diane screamed in her frustration.
"That's all for now," he said with a sadistic smile as he withdrew and got up off of her.
Diane lay there, thighs spread wide apart and trembling, hips still heaving up and down in the rhythm of love, even though his stabbing pole was gone.
"What do you mean!?" she cried in frustration and fury.
"That's all for now." He was still hard and ready, but for an unknown reason he was moving away from the mutual finish.
"What are you doing, Bill? My God, finish me! I need it! You can't leave me hanging like this!"
"Oh, can't I?" he smiled easily as he stood there staring down at her.
"I don't understand...."
"Do you hate me for withdrawing?"
"Yes, I do!" she spat out hotly.
"What are you going to do about it?"
Diane slowly got to her feet, trembling with unfinished lust and fury.
"I'd like to kill you!"
"So you think I ought to be punished, eh?"
"Why are you doing this?" she cried. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"I hate you, you bastard!"
She swung at him and slapped him soundly on the cheek, making it flame red.
"You are angry, aren't you, honey?" he said rubbing his stinging cheek.
"You bet I'm angry! If I were a man I'd beat the hell out of you!"
"Ah, but if you were a man you wouldn't be in this fix."
"You torturing rat! I'd like to thrash you!"
"Here, thrash," he smiled, taking the leather belt from his trousers and handing it to her.
Diane looked at the leather strap in her hand stupidly. She hated him so much she was tempted to use it on him.
"Go on, thrash if you're gonna thrash, Diane. I don't know why you're so upset. All I did was pull it out and deny you your release."
"That's all? You stink! I ought to whip you with this belt! It'd teach you a lesson!"
"You haven't the guts," he sneered.
"You asked for it!" she screamed in blind fury.
She raced at him, swinging the belt wildly. He quickly turned his back, cowering, and covered his face with his hands. The leather belt lashed out and ripped across his back, making a red welt flare up.
Diane struck out at him with all her frustration and humiliation. Her arm swung again and again, and the leather belt cut deep red welts over his bending back. He whimpered as she thrashed him with every ounce of strength in her beautiful body. Whip! Whip! Whip! Whip! The belt cut crisscross welts over his back. He dropped to all fours, exposing his buttocks to the lash of the leather belt.
Diane was slowly beginning to understand what was happening through the fog of her anger and frustration. She suddenly knew with blinding clarity that he had wanted her to flog him all along. She had begun spanking him with the leather strap in a fit of pure hatred and frustration. Now she realized the truth. And she also realized that she was enjoying whipping him.
"Take that and that, you bastard!" she cried out in her high voice as her arm flailed and the belt whistled through the air to sting over his upturned, welted buttocks.
"You're killing me," he sobbed as she spanked him with the belt. But he made no move to get away from the stinging blows that were raining down on his flaming buttocks.
"I'll whip you till your hide burns!"
Her arm pumped furiously as she bent forward and smash blow after blow on his buttocks. The belt was cutting his buttocks, making them glow as if with an internal fire. And now she was getting a perverse satisfaction from beating the man. Erotic thrills began to pulse through her as she towered over him as he cowered there sobbing, taking a brutal beating from her.
Smack! Crack! the belt raked over his behind. He cried and trembled and sobbed.
"Please stop! I beg you to stop!" he cried.
"Not till I punish you for leaving me hanging that way, you skunk!" she shouted over his sobs and the crack of the leather belt on his naked, welted flesh.
"You're killing me! Please stop! I'll do anything you say! You're my master!"
"I'll stop when I'm damn good and ready, and not a moment before!"
Her arm was aching but it continued to fly in its mean arc, bringing the leather belt down repeatedly on his welted behind.
And then her arm hurt so much she could hardly move it. She was nearly in the throes of an orgasm from the perverse thrill that she surprisingly got from whipping a man, beating him into abject submission. She tossed the belt aside and kicked him, making him fall over onto his back.
"Ow! It hurts!"
He tried to roll over onto his side or stomach so that he wouldn't be lying on his welted, bleeding buttocks. But she cruelly held him on his back with her foot.
"No, you don't! You'll stay right there on your back! I gave you your cheap, perverted thrill with that belt-it really did thrill you, didn't it?" she laughed shrilly. Her eyes held his naked hard-on steadily. It was obvious that he got a sexual thrill from being beaten by a woman. But what he didn't know was that she had gotten a perverted thrill, too. She was hot to have him, and now! "No, you're going to lie there on your aching behind and I'm going to climb onto that big, hard pecker of yours and take a ride. That'll be fun, won't it, darling? Every time I jam my hips down I'll be pressing your stinging, welted behind to the floor. Oh, I'll bet that'll hurt! It serves you right!"
With a fierce laugh she straddled the sobbing man and quickly impaled herself on his rod. Down her clinging slit slid, all the way down to the root of his erection.
"Ow! Oh!" he cried.
"So, you don't know if you like the pleasure or pain better, do you, honey?" she leered as she began sliding her slit up and down fiercely, roughly on his pole, making him grind his bottom on the coarse carpet.
"I can't stand the pain!" he wailed.
"Too bad!"
And she jacked her hips up and down viciously so that her slit consumed his pole with violent up and down rotating motion that made his flaming buttocks scrape on the rough carpet.
Diane was enjoying the perverted pleasure. Pain and sadism and pleasure were all mixed together and the mixed emotions gave her an erotic thrill unlike any that she had ever experienced in the past. She loved it!
She ground her middle down and up on his erection. Her slit pulsed and throbbed and she spurted twice before he finally blew his all into her swelling lips of love.
When it was all over, she felt satisfied and drained.
"That was a dirty trick you played on me," she said as she lay over him.
"I never expected you to beat my ass as violently as you did. Christ, I won't be able to sit down for a week!"
"Poor, perverted baby!" she laughed as she kissed him, snaking her tongue into his ear.
"You've just proved that you're just as perverted as I am."
"It was news to me," she smiled, honestly. "You've opened new horizons for me, darling. The world of perversion awaits," she laughed.
"I'll be happy to take you into that world."
"Fine! Now I think that I'm a latent pervert anyway."
"We all are, Diane, but we don't know it."
"You enjoy being whipped by a woman?"
"Yes. From time to time I like a woman to beat me, dominate me, humiliate me. Would you mind being the woman who does that to me?"
"No! I think I'll love it!"
"Diane, baby, we're going to have a lot of perverted fun together," he grinned with pleasure. "I'll like that!"
