The racial unrest in Los Angeles, in the section of the city that was and is known as Watts, erupted one hot summer night three years ago. A stunned nation awoke the next morning to the screaming news in pictures of what was taking place there, of a world gone crazy. The nation had never experienced anything, had never imagined anything, like it before.
The blacks of the ghetto seemed intent on burning the entire section of the city to the ground and ridding themselves forever of the white man who they were calling WHITEY and CHARLIE or simply, THE MAN. They fought and looted and burned and shot at the police and firemen and the national guard troops that the then Governor Brown ordered into the area. They unofficially declared war.
Their war was the most different that has ever been fought since the beginning of time. They, the blacks of the ghetto, simply wanted to be recognized as human beings, wanted the world to know that they were men and women with courage and dignity and that as of that time they were laying claim to their responsibility to themselves to achieve their goals. That their hate erupted and seemed to be the main source of their strength was unavoidable. Deep down, under layers of hate that had built up for four centuries, there was love, a love of self and of their fellow men, that went deeper than the outer layer of skin, penetrated the blackness of the whiteness of the epidermis.
There were many acts of courage and gallantry performed by the blacks and there were many crimes committed against them in the guise of AUTHORITY. These, some of them, came to the attention of the nation in the aftermath of the rebellion: some went unnoticed and unrecorded for all time.
The author of this novel believes and tries to prove that love is the strongest force abroad in this world, that it knows no color lines or admits to any barriers.
Deborah, the Jewish girl who has been discriminated against because of a religion she did not know, awakens slowly but surely to the idea of love of her fellow man, the black man, and her love of whiteness is tested to the extreme limit She accepts the world as it is and finds a fleeting happiness with Claude, a leader of sorts of a gang of black toughs. She decides to accept her own origins, that of the Jew, and she turns, in the mist of chaos and dementia, and reaches out her hand to a Negro boy. He is her investment in the future, a symbol of what is to come for this nation. She is a young American assuming her responsibility to the rest of her fellow man regardless of his race, creed or color. Her decision may not be looked upon with favor or understanding by many Americans, but then, that is what this book is all about.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
Deborah undressed slowly, removed each article of clothing carefully, then looked at herself in the mirror. She was a beautiful girl. She stood five feet six inches tall, her breasts were firm and stood out from her body, white and soft, and the nipples were like small roses, she decided, moving her fingers over them. Her hips had a curve to them that she knew would excite any man, round but not gross, and her stomach was flat and smooth and firm to the touch. She saw by her reflection that she had an almost perfectly shaped mound of pubic hair, soft and black like the hair on her head. She stepped back from the mirror and looked at her legs. Long, she decided and pretty; and, almost giggling to herself, thought that they ended just in the right place.
She stopped looking suddenly, slightly disgruntled with herself for being so vain, and thought about her evening. She had had a date with Tom, a goyim, and he had literally tried to ravish her when he brought her home. She had been surprised by his sudden lunge for her and had not been able to ward it off. And, she hadn't really wanted to, but she had struggled in his arms, trying to get out of them, and he had pressed his sex into her stomach and that had caused her to have a strange feeling and then her aunt had come home, had looked at her with disgust, then ordered her to her room. She had obeyed her without question and left Tom in the room with her aunt to explain his wild actions.
Deborah slipped a nightgown on, a sheer one, because it was extremely hot and close tonight, the smog thicker than it usually was, and brushed her hair. The whole night had been strange, she realized, feeling more uncomfortable with each stroke of the brush. There seemed to be a tenseness in the air, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on, but it was there, hovering about her. Maybe Tom had felt the same thing. That would account for his actions, she mused, laying the brush down on the table.
She couldn't shake the feeling, the one that hung about and around her, so she let her mind think about it, to mull over it. It was probably the part of LA that she was in. She never could understand why her aunt wanted to live here, just at the edge of Watts. It certainly wasn't like Beverly Hills, but then nothing was, she supposed. She just wished her mother had let her stay at home rather than making her stay with her aunt while she was in New York for three months. Oh, well, she sighed, three months should pass quickly. She would have to watch her step with Tom, though. Usually she never let a boy move himself sexually against her as he had done. She would avoid that in the future, would not let him surprise her again. Such a funny feeling she had had. She shivered slightly, then stood up.
That was another thing she didn't like about being here. She didn't have her own bathroom, there being only one upstairs, at the end of the hall. She had to share it with her aunt, had to be sure that all her things were put away before she left the bathroom and had to make sure that it was neat and tidy; ready for her aunt to use.
She left her room, started down the hall her mood still reflective. Her attention was arrested by strange sounds coming from her aunt's bedroom. She started to enter, to rush in and see what was wrong, but she didn't. She stood just in front of the closed door and listened. She heard sounds that were low and guttural, coming deep down from her aunt's throat. She heard the springs of the bed creaking violently. Then, her eyes widening in surprise, she heard a voice that could be only that of a man. She was shocked. She stood as though paralyzed, her ear to the door, her hand on the knob and listened.
The man spoke, his voice came clearly through the door to her. It sounded like Tom! Impossible, she told herself, not quite believing her own word. Without wanting to, without being aware of what she was doing, she turned the knob slowly, pushed the door open a crack and waited, then moved it further inward, and slowly peeked through. Her breathing was loud in her own ears, her heart was throbbing wildly against her chest. She moved the door further open, put her head more firmly into the opening, and gasped.
Tom was on top of her aunt, his hardened penis plunging in and out of her. Her legs were spread out wide on each side of his plunging body and they were ... her mind searched for the word, coupled. Her hand went involuntarily to her mouth, over it, to stifle any cry she might have made. She watched in fascinated horror the two of them; his body plunging up and down, his thick, hard penis disappearing and reappearing with every thrust, and her aunt's splayed legs opening and closing around his hard driving buttocks. His young body, solidly muscled, was wet with sweat. He gripped her aunt's buttocks until they were red and bloodless lines were visible in them. Her inner thigh muscles were taunt, Deborah, could see, when her legs left his slim ass and splayed out again, flailing the air. She could see her aunt's hands, clawing his hips, and looked closer and saw that he was squeezing her white buttocks together and forcing her to tighten around his thick, pistoning penis.
She could even see the ragged pink edges of her aunt's vagina clasping tightly to that plunging pole, much as though a hungry calf were sucking at its mother's udder. Deborah was as startled by the sounds the two of them were making as she was by what they were doing physically.
Tom would rise up, drawing his hard, thick prick away from the sucking flanges of her vagina. Her legs would fall away from his hips, then he would thrust back into her and their stomachs smacked lewdly together. That, plus their grunts and groans of pleasure, made an obscene noise that sounded horrifying to Deborah's ears. If her mind would not fully accept what she saw, the noise they made decided her that she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. She shuddered, shaking herself, thinking that that is what he wanted to do to her, to ram his hard thick self into her and split her apart, and hurt her and push into her stomach and rip and tear, and her face turned white.
She saw that their movements were becoming more hurried, almost to the point of frenzy, and their breathing was more labored and loud, then her aunt began to moan and clasp herself around his young pumping body and tried to melt herself to him. Then making a deep, unholy sound she dropped her arms and legs from him. Tom did not stop, did not slow down. He lifted her aunt's legs and pushed them over her body and Deborah was again permitted to see the dark hair-lined lips of her vagina sucking at and devouring his hard cock. He plunged more wildly now, shoving deep into her, causing her to buckle and moan with each inward thrust Then, much to Deborah's disbelief, his buttocks began moving faster than she had ever imagined a human could move, bucking his hips at a tremendous rate until a low deep-throated moan escaped him. Then grinding down hard, his lust hardened prick completely lost itself to her view between her aunt's legs and pushed and pumped in short lightning strokes until he suddenly raised his shoulders high and gave one last and final thrust then dropped his sweaty body hard down on top of her aunt's wildly screaming flesh.
Deborah felt the earth suddenly drop from under her. She discovered herself to be warm, her own sex hot and bothering her. She closed the door quietly, tears dripping down her cheeks, and went back to her own room. She sat on the bed and cried and didn't know who to hate-him or herself or her aunt. She was a goyim, a non-Jew, and her aunt had not wanted her to date him. But, there she was, in bed with him, and his being goyim didn't seem to matter to her. Deborah felt like killing the both of them. The idea of her aunt sending her upstairs just so she could be with Tom who was half her age sickened Deborah. Then she thought that perhaps Tom had forced her aunt into the room. That's silly, she told herself, no one ever forced her aunt to do anything. They had both betrayed her, she felt, and she couldn't-wouldn't stay there a moment longer. She never wanted to see Tom again and she might never be able to face her aunt. She dressed hurriedly and slipped quietly out of the house.
Deborah went to her car, which was really her mother's, opened the door and got behind the wheel. She was so nervous and upset that she couldn't manage to get the key into the ignition switch. She started crying again, for lost love, lost faith, or what she didn't know, but she wished now that she had not seen the two of them in such an obscene and horrible act.
Deborah had been dating Tom for two months now. She had always put him off, time after time, no matter how he pleaded and promised marriage and explained to her that men were different than women, that they had to have an 'outlet.' Her answer had always been the same: when she married she wanted to be taken by her husband in a virginal state. No amount of talking from him, nor she could have said, from the many other boys she had dated throughout high school, could make her change her mind. Oh, they had all tried, each in their tiresome ways, but Tom seemed more sure of himself than the others, more certain of her eventual capitulation. She had always been just as sure it would never happen and after tonight, seeing him so violent and animal-like on top of her aunt, she was more than positive. That thought brought her crying to a new high. She decided that she would walk rather than drive, since she couldn't trust herself to do the latter, so she got out of the car and slammed the door and ran up the street.
She was getting more and more upset the more she ran, so she made herself slow down, to breathe deeply and walk more slowly. She could hardly see where she was going, tears so badly blurred her vision. She crossed a foot bridge over the freeway, an eight lane one, and had the impulse to throw herself at the fast moving cars below. She breathed in, tossed her head back so that she could hold it high and see where she was going, and continued across the bridge. Without warning the full noise from the fast moving cars on the freeway got to her. She started running, to get away from it, from the area of her aunt's house and from the memory of what she had seen. She ran until she was exhausted.
Standing against a building, trying to get herself under control so that she could decide what to do, where to go, she was suddenly startled by the headlights of a car, then a second, and a squealing of brakes and red lights and doors slamming and people shouting and the street suddenly having pools of lights from the houses and then, in what seemed like seconds to her, it was full of people. She couldn't move. She stood glued to the spot, listening to the shouting, the crude language. Suddenly the house directly across the street from her erupted in noise, seemed to her eyes to raise up off its foundations. More police cars poured into the street, blocking both ends of it, and the door of the house across the street flew open and two burly policemen in shiny helmets pushed a small negro man out onto the meager patch of grass and weeds that served as a lawn.
One of the policemen kicked him, as far as Deborah could tell in the side of the head, and a noise, a whole body of it all at once as though all the people there had only one set of lungs among them, rose to an almost unbearable volume. Deborah felt the need to close it out of her head by putting her hands over both ears and pressing them together as hard as she could. It didn't work.
The whole ghastly scene was still there before her and there would never be any way for her to stop the noise that the growing body of people made.
The small man was pulled to his feet by the two big policemen, who were now assisted by six others, and one of them clobbered him across the back with his nightstick. The angry mob of people moved closer to the police; one of them shouted in a threatening voice, "STAY BACK, ALL OF YOU, HE'S KILLED SOMEONE." The mob of people hesitated. They seemed to her to be suspended in whatever position they had been in when the policeman started yelling. Everything stopped, all action waiting for something to start the people moving again, when a piercing scream split the air, heralding the approach of a small, dark woman. She threw herself on the policeman who had just spoken, yelling "My son, my son. They're killing him."
A scream of anger was torn from the throats of the crowd, much as though it were a giant throat emitting one long scream. Then the crowd moved, rushed the cops and to Deborah's unbelievable eyes, started kicking and hitting and cursing at them. The whole bank of noise was split apart by the firing of a gun. The crowd fell back, then again they rushed the police, lacking at them as they tried to get up off the ground, yelling "PIG!" and other words that had no place in Deborah's vocabulary. Suddenly a second and third and fourth shot was heard, then the banging of a car door. That was followed by the breaking of glass, the crashing of it sounding above the noise of the crowd when it hit and shattered upon the sidewalk.
Deborah was paralyzed with fright. There was no place to run. She could hear sirens wailing in the distance, the shouting and cursing increasing with every second, then her mind accepted the fact of blood. There was lots of it. It was red and rich and ran down the faces of the people there, all black and streaked with red blood. Fires began all along the street. The police cars were hammered with bricks and groups of people were on one side of each car, trying to turn them over with the police inside.
She had to get away. She didn't understand what she was seeing, didn't believe that she could even relate what she was now watching to any living soul. It just didn't, somehow, seem to be, yet it was. Everyone seemed to be suddenly crazy, each person screaming and throwing bricks and digging and tearing at the sidewalk for pieces of cement to use as weapons. She pressed herself against the wall of the building, trying to hide, wishing that she could vanish into thin air. Then she decided to run, up the street, away from all the people. She prayed that she wouldn't be noticed.
Deborah clutched to herself all the energy and nerve she could muster, then flew out from the wall of the building and ran madly up the street. She had almost reached the comer, the end of the block when a huge mob of people turned the same comer, heading in the direction from which she was escaping. She was knocked to the ground by the first wave of people. She managed to crawl to the doorway of a building, a grocery and liquor store. She was cut, bruised and her mouth had the taste of blood in it. Her eyes were wide with fright and disbelief at what was happening: people were almost jubilant, dancing and swearing and knocking in the glass front of stores. The glass would crash to the street, clattering and twinkling in the light from the street lamps, and then the people would disappear inside the window.
It seemed so crazy to her. It was as though she had stumbled into someone else's nightmare. She made herself as small as possible against the door of the store, and looked about for a chance to run, to escape the madness that had erupted all about her. She realized with a suddenness that made her sick to her stomach that the group of boys in front of the store where she was trying to hide were intent on breaking the glass. She slipped down in the doorway, drew her knees up and put her arms about them, and shivered in fright. The first brick to hit the store window did not break it, but Deborah felt the thud of it in her body, knew that it would be repeated again and again until the window gave. It was.
A rain of bricks flew at the window, then the breaking of glass and the crashing of it onto the sidewalk did not surprise her. The reflected light, suddenly there in the glass on the sidewalk, seemed almost pretty to Deborah. It fascinated her by its twinkling and sparkling.
"Augh, MAN! OOOH," all screams of lust and desire and anticipated pleasure broke from the throat of the boys as they jumped jubilantly through the window of the store. Deborah watched, waited for her opportunity to flee, to race away from the growing madness. She huddled more closely to the door, standing now, ready to bolt and run. People were everywhere. "GIT WHITEY!" was a cry that filled and spilled from the throats of every person there. It made little sense to her chaotic thoughts, jumbled as they were, one on top of the other, then in a flash it was there, the full and terrible meaning of what she was hearing.
SHE WAS WHITEY!
The very knowledge made her legs weak. She cringed against the door, trying to become part of it, and cried. Where could she go? What could she do? There was nowhere to run. If she went to her right she would surely be attacked by the huge mob of people that were looting in that direction. If she ran to her left she would be going toward the most angry part of the mob, the place where the police had been attacked. Crossing the street was impossible. A fire was raging there. She knew that her position was hopeless, so she pressed tighter against the door and prayed.
Then, when she thought for a moment she was safe, the door was yanked open from the inside. Deborah fell backwards through it. She found herself flat on her back, looking up into the startled face of a negro boy.
She couldn't move.
"Man!" he exclaimed, "Man!" looking down at her. She wanted to say something, to plead with him for her life, for her safety, but no words would come. Then, she knew that her chance had gone when he yelled, apparently to the other boys she had seen disappear through the window, in a quavering voice, "Claude, man, come here. A little white bird just flew into our cage." Deborah made a move to get up, bringing her head up and then lifting her shoulders off the floor, but he was too fast. He put his foot on her breast and pushed her back to the foor. She brought her legs together, grabbed his leg with her hands and tried to move it off her. He poured liquor from the bottle he was holding into her face. It spilled into her nose, ran over her closed lips and down the sides of her cheeks. Then she began crying, her hopeless situation now completely evident to her.
They stood over her, looking down with their huge bulging eyes, and drank from their bottles and poured liquor onto her, and laughed nervously and each told the other to get Claude. She tried again to get up, to escape, feeling that her chances would be better in the street, but each time she moved the foot pressed into her and they all laughed and she felt a foot on her crotch and pain shoot through her middle and she screamed and they laughed again. "Benjie, ya' found her, git Claude," one of them said, dropping to his knees alongside her.
"You the second in command, you git him," Benjie replied, his foot still planted firmly on her chest.
"He comin'. Claude comin'," a couple of them murmured, moving slightly back to make room for him.
"Well, well, what we got here?" the one they all referred to as Claude said, standing over her. He had money in both fists, large wads of it. "This our lucky night, boys. Git 'er inside," he commanded, moving away from her.
Claude had looked like a giant to Deborah, tall and very dark and the whites of his eyes showing clearly as he looked down at her, his large white teeth glistening. The light from the fires which were burning all around, across the street, in the street itself, reflected and made shadows on his sweaty face.
Then, there were hands all over her, her legs, her breasts, her buttocks, and one or two made fleeting attempts to feel between her thighs as she was dragged into the interior of the store.
"Claude done open de safe!" One of them bellowed, releasing her arm. She struck out, lashed out, with her one free hand and drew her fingernails across his face. He hollered, "OUCH," and backhanded her, snapping her head sideways. Claude hit him in the face with his fist, then all of them released her, letting her drop to the floor.
"What you do dat for?" the boy whined, blood pouring from his mouth through his fingers. "We all gonna' fuck...." he started, spitting blood.
"Tfeah, you our 'lected leader, we cain jest unlect you too," another said, then was rewarded by a clot on the side of the head from Claude.
Deborah's hopes lifted, seeing in him her protector, fear of him growing deep within her even as she told herself that he would protect her. Her hopes were dashed in an instant. He reached out, took her dress at the front and ripped it completely down the middle, in a lightning stroke that caused her to cry out
"Move back. Everybody. You look but don't touch. I am the' leered leader' as Fish Brain pointed out, and as such I get first choice of everything, including this bird. Then, John, he the second in command, he choose. Then, Daddy Simms, he next, and right on down the line. We wanna' change officers, we got a meeting next week and we can elect then. Now, and for this week, we stay as we elected and if nobody like it, then he gotta take it away from me by force." Claude stopped, glared at each of them, and took a long drink from his quart of Scotch.
"I done found her, Claude. I outta' get first.. Benjie whinned, then was clobbered by Claude for his efforts.
"We all git a chance," another said, moving out of the range of Claude's swing. Several of the rest of them took up the cry, demanding that "We all git a chance," and then Claude spoke again.
Deborah noticed that his first word threw the rest of them into silence immediately. He was powerful, huge shoulders, slim hipped, and his movements were graceful, like those of a boxer and a dancer. Deborah had to admire him, even though she feared him now more than anyone she had ever seen in her fife, she realized that he was her only hope, her only chance of not being ravished by all these wild uncontrolled animals. She listened when he spoke, her mind racing over the difficulties she would be facing shortly.
"I am the boss," Claude said, evenly, "And as such, I say again, I got the say. I work in this store. I planned coming here tonight, what happened in the street just a coincidence. I opened the safe. I got the money. Now, I say again and for the last time, I am the boss. I kill any man that say different. Understood?"
There was a grudging consent from all of them, then one spoke apart from the crowd, John. He moved next to Claude, a position the rest of them had not seemed eager to place themselves in, took a long drink from his bottle and said, "You motherfuckers better believe it like he tol' it. Dat's the way is."
"We gotta' remember our organization, men." Claude began, taking a swig from his bottle, " 'Cause I feel like tonight gonna turn into somethin' like we ain't never even thought of cause I can feel it. We gonna make it turn into a free market at Whitey's expense. We gotta get back in the street, keep things going, keep the people busy and hatin'. We gotta a chance to get clothes, money and we got a whole fuckin' store of liquor." He paused and a cheer went up from all of them, agreement from all concerned.
Claude turned back to Deborah, moved to her and forced the bottle between her lips. She drank the fiery liquor straight, burning her throat and gagging. He laughed easily, then put his huge hand over hers and made her release her dress where she had clutched it together in front. He put his strong fingers around one of her soft, white breasts and smiled into her eyes. Then he turned to the rest of them, still holding onto her and spoke.
"You mothers outta' feel this tit," he said, squeezing it hard and causing Deborah to cry out. "It ain't been touched 'fore."
He was rewarded by a moaning consent from the rest of them.
"You can. Sure. Later. I first, cause this white broad a virgin. I can tell. Ain't that right?" he asked Deborah, fingering her nipple. "You ain't never been fucked, have you?"
"No," Deborah whispered, her face wet from her tears brought about by her humiliation as well as her pain.
"She don't even like the word," Claude laughed, then continued: "An' I gonna be the first to fuck her, to teach her the joy of a black prick, a real man. But, I ain't gonna let pleasure interfere with business. Ain't any the rest of you fuckers goin' to either. We gonna take her to the basement, Benjie, 'cause he found her, and Ape cause he cain't do anything else, they gonna watch her till we get back. We all gotta lot to do."
He continued talking, instructing the rest of them how to go about keeping die people busy in the street, looting and sacking the stores, setting fires, etc. Deborah was amazed at his ability, at his belief that all of them could keep it all going for so long. In his discourse, she learned that he worked at the liquor store where she was being held captive, that he was a student at the state college, and that he hated the owner of the liquor store. She understood that she was to be kept in the basement, that the supplies that each of them felt they needed would be taken to the basement and that it could be sealed off from the rest of the world indefinitely. She shuddered with the thought of them ravishing her for days, of her slowly dying and never being heard from again.
Claude finished the instructions, grabbed her by the arm and took her to the basement. Once there, Benjie and Ape following along, he threw her down on the bed and said to her, "Ain't very pretty is it? My Whitey boss, a Jew Charlie, done gave me this room-I had to stay here-after his dog died. You see, this did belong to the dog, then it died and he had another better dog, a black one. Me. I could tie you up, but I ain't gonna. You escape, you git killed in the street Ain't one white man gonna survive this. So I'm not gonna tie you, but I tell you, Ape, here, he crazy. You try to escape, I don't know what he gonna do. You understand?"
Deborah nodded dumbly, her mind numb. Her situation was hopeless. She had thought sometime ago that she would appeal to Benjie, promise him something, help him to want to help her to escape. She had not formulated any plan in her mind, but she felt that she could at least talk to Benjie. She looked at the one called Ape and shuddered. He was a slobbering, retarded idiot.
"I see you understand Ape. He gotta cock bigger 'an horse." He turned to the two guards, said, "I come back ready to fuck, she better still be a virgin. You understand?"
Both of them nodded their heads in understanding, Benjie eyeing her, a slight smile hovering about his lips, Ape's eyes all glassy and saliva dripping from the comers of his mouth. Each of them had a bottle in each hand. "You fuckers better remember what I say," Claude said, going up the stairs.
Deborah clutched her dress to herself, feeling completely without hope of any kind. She realized that she was more frightened than she had ever been in her life, that her life was in danger because she was being left alone with that idiot. She could remember reading or hearing somewhere that mentally retarded people were stronger than normal ones, and decided that the statement must have been quite accurate, just looking at him. There would be no reasoning with him, she decided, and knew that her life now rested in the hands of Benjie. She guessed him to be about fourteen years old. He was still drinking, taking deep draughts from one bottle or the other that he had. She wished that he would stop drinking. She knew without being told that her greatest danger was Ape. She listened to the lessening sounds on the floor above, until they ended, then guessed that the thing she feared most had happened. She was cut off from the world, alone with a drunken child and a half-witted maniac.
"Benjie," she whispered, "Do you think you ought to drink so much?"
"I drink all de time," he said, taking a long haul from the bottle. "You need a drink," he told her, pushing the mouth of the bottle to her lips. Deborah turned her head and accidentally knocked the bottle out of his hand, looked at it in disbelief as it crashed and broke on the floor. The Ape started yelling and jumping up and down and doing what passed for laughing and then pointed his finger at Benjie.
Benjie had been startled when she knocked the bottle from his hands. He was drunk, as he well knew, and he was having the first high that he had ever in his life felt All things seemed to be in slow motion for him until Ape started making fun of what he had let happen to him. He felt like a child again, as he often did with the men who came to his mother and talked to him as though he were a baby and fucked his mother and gave her a little money and always threw him a quarter or two. He hated his mother, at the same time felt sorry for her, and somewhere in his life had decided to make all the people in the world repay him for her suffering.
It came through his brain like slow moving pictures for him that Deborah, the beautiful white girl, had indeed made him look like a fool in front of Ape. He had felt proud when he had been appointed her guard, felt that she should have been grateful to him for having such an honor. After all, he was the youngest member of the gang and it was a big responsibility to have to watch her, and to keep Ape from bothering her. Now, she was ruining the whole thing, causing him humiliation in front of an idiot.
He formulated the thought slowly that he would repay her. He turned back to her, said, "White bitch, you gonna' pay for that." He slapped her on the face, not hard, almost missing, his coordination gone with the whiskey.
It was enough to cut Ape loose, however. He had set his own bottles down, the spittle still dribbled from the comers of his mouth, and he jumped up and down and clapped his hands. Benjie felt repaid, smiled at Ape and then knew that he had to make her suffer more. "You gonna' drink, white bitch," he said, grabbing her by the hair of the head.
Deborah reacted without thinking. She caught his cheek with her fingernails and tore it viciously. Benjie screamed, much as a young girl would, his voice cracking and changing fibre about half-way through his first cry. He smacked Deborah, then dropped his second bottle when his free hand went to his cheek. Deborah was instantly sorry. She hadn't fully realized how much of a child he was until that instant.
"Help me, Ape," Benjie said, his hand firmly grasped to her hair, "Let's teach this hi white bitch a lesson."
Ape loped to them, still grinning his idiotic grin, and Deborah realized that his name, however unbecoming, was an apt one. He moved just like an ape, his arms hanging down, his shoulders sloped forward, and his feet shuffled rather than lifted up and sat down on the floor like normal people.
He moved behind her and grabbed her, putting his arms about her waist and clamping her arms to her side. His hands closed into her crotch, clutching her thighs, his thumbs placed against her vagina, his prick against her buttocks, saliva dribbling from his Hp down her neck. Deborah thought she would faint from the very revulsion she felt for him. "Benjie, please," she cried, trying to awaken in him some human feeling that she was certain had to be there.
Benjie ignored her, however, and took a bottle from which Ape had been drinking, crossed back to her and took her hair in his hand and pulled her head back. "Drink, white bitch," he said, forcing the mouth of the bottle between her Bps and pouring the hot liquid into her. She gagged and coughed and tried to spit up the fiery alcohol, but it was no use. A great deal of it got down her throat, burning and scalding her insides. She was forced to drink, losing only a little of the liquor, until the bottle was almost empty. Benjie finished the rest of it, watching as Ape moved his sex across her backside and his hand kneaded her thighs and hungrily rubbed at her vagina.
Deborah could feel his growing hardness back against her soft giving mounds, and she clenched her buttocks together to avoid him. Ape took her movements for response to his fondling and lengthened faster than he would have. Without realizing it, Deborah compared the feel of him against her buttocks to Tom's hardness, hurriedly though it had been, against the softness of her stomach. Indeed, her mind let her know, he did feel like a horse against her, hard like steel and hot and big. His hands and fingers worked at the top of her thighs and no amount of wiggling and moving on her part made him slow down. She realized with a sudden chilling knowledge that her movements were only causing him to get more excited. She made her self stop, to stand perfectly still and hope that he would desist.
The liquor was getting to her. She could feel her head swim, feared that she might be losing her ability to think and to act rationally. The first problem was still there: she could not afford to have Benjie drunk. Then, if he should become so, she would be left entirely at the mercy of Ape. Her mind searched for something, anything to say to him.
"Benjie, Benjie, please listen to me," she said, hoping that her words were not slurred. "Do you have a sister?" she asked hopefully.
"I's an only child, white bitch," he said, squeezing her breasts cruelly. She cried out in pain.
"What about your mother?" she cried out desperately, 'Would you like to see her getting molested by Ape?"
"She a whore," Benjie said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "Ape done fucked her. She say he almost kill her."
Deborah's eyes were instantly full of tears. She was crying from the pain and from the sympathy she felt for Benjie. His defenselessness came to her like a clap of thunder, making her want to put her arms about him and console him and let him cry on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Benjie, truly I am," she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. Ape was rutting into her behind, forcing his hard pole against her, still digging and moving his fingers against the nylon material that covered her tender vaginal lips.
Deborah saw a flicker of understanding in Benjie's eyes. She thought frantically for something to say to reinforce his belief in her, but could come up with nothing. The idea of what a boy, as young as he, having a mother as he described, almost ruined her thinking. She pleaded with him with her eyes, blinking the tears out of them. He responded.
"That enough, Ape. We gotta' remember what Claude done say," he said, moving forward and trying to move Ape's hands from her crotch. He couldn't. His efforts only caused Ape to hang on more forcefully, pressing her vaginal lips together cruelly, and his hard telephone pole like prick to move faster back against the soft mounds of her buttocks. Her arms were pinned alongside her body so that she absolutely couldn't move.
"Fituck," Ape slobbered behind her. "Drink whiskey," he said, causing her neck to become wet from his spittle.
"Ah, shiit," Benjie said, picking up a bottle, "He only say you gotta be a virgin yet, he never say you can't be used," he told Deborah, accusingly. He took the bottle, brought it back to them and took her hair in his hand again and forced her head back and poured some of the hot liquid down her throat. She struggled to avoid it, but it was hope less. Then he held the bottle to Ape's mouth and he drank, long and deep, emptying the bottle. Ha threw it aside, breaking it against the wall, then took another from an open case, uncapped it and took a long draw himself. His thin body shuddered and he set the bottle down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Bring her over here," he told Ape, indicating the dirty mattress that was on the floor.
Ape lifted Deborah off the floor as though she were a match stick. She felt herself being crushed and lifted and then being slammed down on the filthy mattress. She made a desperate effort to escape, but Ape pinioned her against the mattress, throwing his own hard, sweating body on top of hers. She cried out in anger and exasperation. She thought her prayers had been answered when she heard noise from the floor above. She felt certain that Claude had returned.
"I be right back," Benjie said, moving swiftly toward the stairway.
Ape wasted no time. He tore her bra off in one swift stroke, then before her mind could grasp what was happening, he fastened his thick-lipped mouth onto her breast and bit down hard, causing her to scream in pain and terror. Her scream only caused him to bite harder, and as he did so he moved himself on top of her, his long hard sex on her legs, moving back and forth and hitting at her vaginal lips, still covered with the small hopelessly thin patch of nylon panties. She felt as though he were going to bite her breast off, knew that he was soon going to pierce the flesh and draw blood. She moved her hips up, throwing them against his hard prick, and he released her, thinking that she wanted him, and she quickly moved her arm from underneath and groped frantically for a weapon. Her hand closed over the neck of a full bottle; she swung it with all her strength and caught him alongside the head; the bottle plopped and then broke and the air was alive with the fresh smell of alcohol and his slobbering mouth was grinning and his hand went over the band of her sheer panties and he ripped them apart and then closed his mouth over hers.
Deborah wanted to vomit. His tongue forced her lips apart, then she gasped for breath as the wet fleshy instrument filled her mouth and she felt the head of his huge large prick bang against the tender opening between her legs. She still had one hand free, and almost without her knowing what it was doing it closed around the neck of the bottle and she dug it into his side with all her strength and he yelled and rolled off her. Deborah made it to her knees, her mind a vacuum of terror, and stopped, stunned when she saw all the blood soaking through his shirt. His dim brain accepted the sight of blood slowly, then he turned back to her and hit her full force in the face with his open palm, sending her reeling backwards, legs apart, her dress bunched up to her thighs. Then he was back on her, biting and sucking her breasts and his hands dug into her back and his huge organ was again pressed to her unwilling cunt, against it, feeling for all the world to her like a fence post. She screamed in terror.
"Stop it, man," Benjie cried out, running to them, "You done 'member what Claude say. He kill you," he kicked Ape in the side, causing him to grunt, but not lessening his pushing and biting at Deborah. "God, what done happen' to ya'?" he asked Ape, seeing all the blood that now covered the whole right side of him.
"Cut, botl'," he said, lifting his head away from her breasts.
"Gawd, she a wild little white bitch," Benjie said in wonder at all the blood. "Test people helpin' themselves up there. Guess they's enough for everybody, we got all we need here," he continued.
Deborah knew he was drunk and she would have been also she realized, if the beast that was on her had not inflicted so much pain upon her body. She couldn't give up, however, so she spoke to Benjie, saying, "Please, Benjie, remember what Claude told you. Please," she moaned, "he's hurting me."
"Dat's enough, Ape, she tight. Claude gonna' be damned mad, he find you like dis. Com' on now," he said, grabbing Ape by the hair of the head and pulling with all his might.
Ape reluctantly stopped his biting, moved his huge pole away from the lips of her virginal opening, but remained firmly on top of her. "Benjie ... cock ... moufth," he said, his eyes glistening and shining and his drooling dropping onto her exposed white breasts.
"Gawd," Benjie moaned, "Ain't never seen a white bitch 'fore," his eyes bulging out of his head as he looked at her firm white fleshly mounds jutting defiantly up from her chest, the nipples standing proud and pink. "You ever suck a cock, white bitch?" he asked, unzipping his trousers and exposing his manhood, then taking it in his hand and rubbing the foreskin over the purple black head of it It slowly lengthened, growing before Deborah's bulging eyes, the tip of it slowly emitting a white viscous fluid that he caught with his finger and spread over the rest of the growing head. "You is now, that sure," he said, kneeling by her head and slapping Ape's forehead with the flat of his palm.
"You eat her, Ape, 'cause she gonna' eat me. You like the taste of dat white tight pussy, Ape," he continued, moving so that his prick touched Deborah's lips.
She moved her head to the side, trying to avoid at all costs the now long, hard black prick of Benjie. She was amazed that such a small boy could have such a large cock. She had never seen one before, either black or white. She saw Tom's moving in and out of her aunt's slit, and that had been large, larger than the one now being forced into her mouth. She moved her head from side to side, praying that he wouldn't do that, force that horrible hard thing into her mouth.
She felt her legs being lifted, then the brittle hair of Ape's head on the soft inner flesh of her thighs, then his hot mouth and thick lips on her tender cuntal lips and she tried to move away, to close her thighs, but her legs only banged against his head and did not in any way hinder him from reaching his goal. She felt his thick lips close over the soft hair-lined flanges between her legs and felt herself being sucked, then his tongue plunged into her, causing her to gasp and when she did Benjie shoved his now thoroughly hard prick into her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat and she gagged.
Benjie withdrew from her, almost all the way, then slammed his rod back into her, past the point it had been, down deep into her throat and her hp brushed against the zipper of his trousers, and the metal felt cold and hard to her. She felt the plunging probing wet tongue of Ape deep inside and between the walls of her tight little cunt, and the lack of pain was a surprise to her. She made one final effort to rid herself of his vile muscled tongue, and in so doing succeeded only in opening her legs wider, and he grasped the inside of her thighs and forced them to remain open, and his teeth chewed at the lips of her vagina, and suddenly there was pain, as she had anticipated earlier, then it stopped and his tongue was pushed deeper into her.
She felt a sickening sensation deep within her, revolting her but she liked the feeling of Ape's tongue and had to fight herself to keep from responding to it. Every time that he moved it deep into her, she felt shivers of bitter pleasure all the way to the core of her being. He worked his tongue over her clitoris, sending waves of pleasure surging through her, and without knowing what she was doing she started sucking, massaging the hard rod of Benjie with her tongue.
Ape knew what he was about He could never have formulated the thought thoroughly in his own mind, but he had felt many clitoris stiffen and tighten under and around his tongue. He knew immediately that she would change, was changing, was quitting the fight as soon as he felt that soft quivering little piece of flesh harden. He pushed at it violently, working it up against her flesh, then moving it out with his tongue, then probed back further into her, and felt the movement, perceptible though it was, start within her. He loved the smell, the musty sweet odor that a cunt always had, even a whore's, and he joyed in hers, clean and unused as it was. The sweetness of it filled and entered his nostrils, was sucked into his lungs and then spread to all parts of his body, causing his hard, thick prick to throb with painful desire.
Deborah could not fight against the sensations that were assaulting her body from head to foot. She did, without knowing it, close the walls of her tight little cunt around the probing tongue of Ape. It slithered into her, deeply, sending hot and cold flashes deep into her, then out, and the walls of her now hot pussy clasped at it trying to prevent its escape from her. Suddenly her hips were moving in unison with the tongue, bouncing up when it started in, drawing it in to her faster than Ape had intended it to go. He removed his hands from her soft thighs, sure that they would remain open for him, and grabbed her soft, white buttocks in his hands and squeezed and moved his finger to her hot little opening in between them, worked his finger around it, enjoyed the feel of the rubbery spongy tightly muscled tissue. He forced his finger through the tiny rectal opening, heard her groan with pain and moved toward his hungry demanding mouth into that which he loved above all else; he shoved his finger in, deep, and left it there, wanting her to get used to the idea of it.
Deborah felt his large finger on her tight little hole, wanted to scream and plead that he not defile her there, but could only moan instead, full, as her mouth was of Benjie's hard prick. Pain shot through her insides when he tore at her opening, forcing his large finger deep into her. He moved it upwards and she could feel the flesh being rubbed by his finger in one part of her, then feel his tongue working over it in her cunt Her body betrayed her. Suddenly, without any hint or warning to her mind, her desire took over, thrusting her loins upwards and toward the hot, willing tongue of Ape, then causing her to grind down on his finger, shoving it deep into her tight defenseless rectum, and she bit down on and sucked Benjie's rod deep into her. The delicious sucking and biting and greed increased in pace with her desires, and she contracted her buttocks around the hard probing finger and pushed her cunt hard up into the lustful face. At the core of her being a tension began building rapidly, one that she wanted to satisfy at all costs. She bucked upwards, moaning deep within herself, and ground and pushed her now wet hot cunt at the foreign object there, wanting to suck it deep within her and keep it there always.
Suddenly it was there. She abandoned all hope and threw all her energy into satisfying her lust crazed desires. She felt a tension building low down at the root of Benjie's prick, somehow matching her own needs deep inside her, and then it was spilling hot liquid down her throat and plunging in more wildly and she was rising up to meet the hot tongue as it moved in and out of there and then the dam broke and all thought except the fulfilling of her overwhelming desire controlled her and then it was released deep within and flowed out from her and fought to get that maddening tongue into her fully and completely until it was no longer necessary, until she had spent herself. Then exhausted, sore and amazed at what she had just experienced, she felt her muscles go lax and they did return her mind to her, to its rightful place, somewhere in her lust-dimmed thinking structure.
Benjie withdrew his now limp cock from her mouth, rolled to one side of her and looked at the busy head of Ape moving between her white thighs, his glistening ebony head bobbing up and down and around making a lewd contrast between her white soft thighs and his dark woolly head. Benjie had never lost his load to anything more than his own hand, so he was recovering from the experience, the most overwhelming one that he had ever had. He felt exhausted, his young body empty of what had been building in him for fourteen years, and he also felt guilty and suddenly re pulsed by the sight of Ape eating at her writhing white loins. He felt like crushing the skull of Ape, splitting it open to make him stop what he was doing. He forced his gaze away from that unpleasant sight, and looked at Deborah. She would not return his look, except momentarily, and he realized immediately that she felt guilty too, then knew that she had enjoyed what they had done to her. He touched her cheek with his finger, and she almost smiled at him. He put his foot on the top of Ape's head and pushed with all his strength, sending Ape sprawling backwards.
Deborah lay as they left her, legs apart, her own orgastic fluid seeping from her open slit, the taste of Benjie's cum sickening her and making her want to vomit She decided that she needed a drink, wanted to pour some liquor down her throat to burn her taste buds and forget what had just happened to her. She spoke, softly to Benjie: "Get me a drink, please."
He did. He got a bottle, moved his arm under her head and held it to her lips. She drank deeply, then sputtered and gagged as the fiery liquid hit her throat She got herself under control and looked at Ape. He was sitting just as he had landed, looking at her through crazy, lust-filled eyes, and had his huge pole in his hands, working them up and down the length of it. Deborah gasped, not out of fear, but at the hugeness of it. She under stood fully what Claude had meant about him being built like a horse. She just hoped and prayed that she would never be subjected to anything like that. She hoped that all the rest of them would return soon, prayed that they would because she realized that the dim-witted Ape knew that she had, in the end, responded to him. She could only guess at the lewd thoughts in his head. She watched fascinated as he worked at his hardened pole, an idiot grin on his face, spittle dripping down his chin as he continued desperately to jerk the skin up and down over its mammoth length.
Deborah tore her gaze away from the obscene sight and let her eyes roam around the room. What she saw was not encouraging. There were no windows, even high ones. She had not been in many basements, since there are few in Southern California, so she had no idea what it should look like. But, the lack of windows, even small ones high up on the wall, gave her a shock and made her think that she might be getting a case of claustrophobia. There was only one way out of there and that was up the staircase, through the store and to the street. How could she ever manage that? she asked herself. How could she divert their attention long enough to make her escape?
Then she thought of herself, creeping up the stairs, perhaps after they had passed out from too much drink, and she almost laughed. Her under garments had been torn from her. They were no longer useful. Her dress had been torn down the front, and now as she clutched it to herself, she realized that it no longer went all the way around her and covered her nudity. Her situation was as hopeless as it looked to her.
Then, without warning the sounds from the street came to her, distantly, as though from another planet, another world. There was the muffled sounds of sirens, the pinging of single shots being fired, and she could detect the falling of walls, crashing down into the street because it rumbled along the ground, thudding dully here in her place of capture. She turned to Benjie whose eyelids were closing slowly over his large dark eyes. At all costs she must not let him leave her, physically or mentally. She would be left alone with that idiot, Ape, who had never taken his eyes off her and who was still massaging his mammoth, hard pole.
"Benjie!" she called to him, causing him to snap his eyes open and jerk his body upward.
"What ya"wan'?," he mumbled from his sleep tired brain.
"What's happening up there? Who's firing the guns? It sounds like buildings falling all the time."
"'Das right," he slurred, drunk from the liquor that he was unused to. "Burnin', Baby, burnin'.
We's gonna' tear down Whitey's world. Yore worlV
"Are you going to help build it back, Benjie?" she asked, not caring for an answer, just wanting to keep him awake and alert as she could. "Have you any idea of the number of years it took to build this crummy place? This world you're going to tear down? You're going to build it back? How, Benjie, how?" She was almost yelling, her anger sudden and lashing.
"Shut yore white face and let a man sleep," he mumbled, moving his body to a supine position and cradling his head on his arm.
Deborah shot a glance at Ape who seemed to be suspended in time, never changing his sick grin nor his repulsive actions, and then put her attention back on her only hope, Benjie. She couldn't let him sleep. Never. She felt it was the curtains for her if she did so. "Benjie," she spoke harshly, "listen to me!" He answered her with a snore. She felt rather than saw Ape move toward her. She screamed, waking Benjie, and to keep him awake she said, "So your mother's a whore, Benjie? And she's been to bed with that Ape there, huh? And now he is your friend? You're trash, Benjie, trash."
Benjie came at her, his fist clenched, his eyes wide and wild He stood over her, his young body trembling, and suddenly Deborah hated herself, made herself sick for talking to him as she did. She wanted to take him and put his head against her bosom and treat him like the child he was. But that, of course, was out of the question now.
"My mother black, jet black, like a crow. Am I dat black, White Bitch? No. I ain't! So who you think fucked my old lady and got me, huh? Who, White Bitch? You only get one guess." He trembled, standing above her, ready to strike out.
Deborah covered her face with her hands and cried. She had not wanted to hurt him, because he was, for all his bravado, a mere child. But she had and she cried now for his wounds, not her own.
"A Jew man do it. Yeah. Dat's right. I guess 'sides being a nigger, I a Jew, too, White Bitch. What'd you think of that, huh?" His temper had been growing with his every word. Deborah saw her opening and took it.
"I'm Jewish, too, Benjie. My mother is and that makes me Jewish, also." She tried to smile, to convey to him her feelings, that she felt one and a kind with him. It didn't work. He hit her with his fist, a stunning blow alongside the head. She fell over and lay as she was.
Still standing over her Benjie said, through a vale of tears, "Jew White Bitch, you pay for my no father. He don't know I here in this world. Wouldn't care even if he knew. I wanna' kill every Jew I ever see," he howled, crying drunk If nothing else the blow cleared her mind somewhat She had been hurt. She was sure that the skin alongside her face would be discolored, but that had been her mistake. If she had thought logically rather than through panic, she told herself, she would have realized that he would not feel compassion for her because she was Jewish, but would know only hate. She decided that she had received the blow in all fairness, to remind her of her stupidity if nothing pise.
Benjie grabbed her by the hair of the head and drew back his right hand that was tightened into a fist and made ready to hit her again, then the whole place was full of noise. There were yells and laughter and swearing and the whole gang of boys came down the stairs, dancing, their eyes showing white in their heads and their teeth sparkling. All of them were extra hyper, and each of them carried armloads of looted goods.
Deborah looked in surprise at the television sets, the radios, the arm loads of clothes and at the boys themselves. Their black faces glistened with sweat they smiled and danced and dropped their loot and grinned and poked each other and looked guiltily at her and ignored Ape, even though each of them had something to say to him. Undaunted, he continued with his stroking and rubbing. To Deborah's mind it seemed like a nightmare carnival. She could even imagine herself a spectator, at a sort of theatre in the round where the audience was brought in to see something they would never understand unless they could be made part of it. She was certainly part of it.
Claude was the last one down the stairs, five minutes after all of them were there and each had a new bottle, each had taken a big drink. His arrival seemed to re-assure the rest of them, they made comments about him, called out the various things that they had managed to bring to the basement hideaway. "'Ol' Spike got a black 'an white set, dumb mother. I got me a colored one, Claude."
"Fish Brain done went and stole some women's clothes!" another laughed and danced around the pile of garments that were indeed made for women.
"Knock off the shit!" Claude commanded, bringing them all to instant silence. He looked at Deborah, still laying on the floor, the left side of her face blue from the fist Benjie had laid there. "You still here, huh? Thought you might have figured some way to escape by now. Not that there's anywhere to go, but...." he left the sentence unfinished and looked at Ape. He walked to him and kicked him with all his strength, then said, "Git that god-damned thing out of sight." He turned back to Deborah with hate in his eyes and asked, "Did he fuck you with his horse cock?"
Deborah was stunned by his viciousness to Ape as well as by his too direct question. She realized that she had been hoping and praying for his return and now she was suddenly frightened of him, just as much as she had been by Ape. She didn't answer, just clutched her dress about herself and looked at him dully.
Benjie spoke up, saying, "Naw, he don fuck 'er. He went down on her, but I kept him from putting that big oT black cock in 'er."
"You stupid muther!" Claude bellowed, "I told you not to let him get close to her. His fucking tongue bigger' most pricks I" They all shouted their agreement, laughed and jumped around and rolled their eyes and made bets with each other about the size of their cocks.
Deborah tried to ignore the whole bunch of them, their dirty words and their snide remarks about her. She felt that her best hope lay in silence. Then Benjie demanded the attention of Claude and getting it, said, "She a Jew Bitch. She tol' me. Dat's why I hit 'er."
Claude smiled down at her, touched her with his shoe and asked, "That right, White Honey? You a Jew Bitch? Jew Boy own this store. He let me work here, pay me about ten cents an hour. Paid me to sleep here. In this stinking hole. That fucldn' liberal Jew real fond of the niggers. He any kin to you, Whitey?" He had his hands on his hips, his jaw muscles were knotted in cords and his eyes were spilling hate all over her. Her throat felt dry and swollen. She wanted to scream at the injustice of it all, to tell him that there were many Jew she had met that she hadn't liked and that she had, could count, many negroes among her friends. But, she realized that it was hopeless, that he had been injured by the man he worked for, and that she would not be able to reach him. She did not answer.
"I ask you a question, I want an answer, Jew Bitch," he said, moving his foot so that it rested on her right breast.
"No," she whispered, close to tears. "I did not know him."
Claude removed his foot, then turned to the room at large and said, "There's only one thing a woman really appreciate, 'specially a white Jew woman, and that a black cock."
A cheer of agreement went up from the crowd, cries of "Lemme' shower."
"I a gooood teacher, Claude," another said, doing a little dance.
Claude silenced them all with a wave of his hand. "The best teacher here is the one who been taught by the white bitches at the college level. Now, who dat?" He spoke, reverting to the argot of the neighborhood, Deborah realized, for effect and control of the group. She knew that he was an educated man, a smart man, and a hope raced through her. She would be able to reason with him, to promise him anything for her own safety, if she could just be alone with him.
"Fish Brain and Spike. I gotta'a job for you two muthers. One block down, there is the Evans Furniture and Home Appliance store-if it not a pile of ashes by now. You know?" he asked, smiling with all the teeth in his mouth. They nodded, returning his smile, their eyes shining, waiting for his instructions. "You go there, you git me a mattress, a big one-one of those king size jobs if you can, and you bring it back here and well have a classroom instruction-and I be the teacher!" He laughed, all the rest of them joined in. "Well have ourselves a real party. Get your black asses hauling.
They left on the run, up the stairs, commenting as they went about the coming show. Deborah knew that she was to be the-if not the star attraction as they would say here in LA-the secondary star. She felt sick and helpless and knew her position was utterly hopeless. She couldn't collect her thoughts, couldn't get them to function in any one pattern. She felt that her only chance was Glaude and then she realized that his hold on the whole mob wasn't as great, perhaps, as he thought it was. Under normal circumstances it might have been, but all the pent up hate and desire and lust was suddenly there for them to let out of their souls and that scared her. She knew that she was in for a rough time.
Claude picked up a bottle of Scotch, said, "You niggers don't know a good drink when you see it," causing them to laugh and take drinks from their own bottles, and he tilted his up to his own big mouth and then tilted his head back and took a long drink. Then he knelt down alongside Deborah and told her, in a loud voice, "Drink white Jew," and then whispered to her, for her ears alone, "It'll help." Deborah took a long swallow from the bottle, burning her throat and causing her to gag.
Claude ignored her discomfort, said to the other boys, "Let's get some of these televisions working and see if they got any shots of us."
There was a great deal of shouting and looking for outlets and laughter and then the room was suffused in glowing television scopes, more than less in color. Suddenly they flooded the room, all the channels were broadcasting the same thing but the announcers were saying different words so that nothing coherent came from any of them. Claude ordered them to put the sets on channel four, then there it was, the whole scene, fires and shouts and rifle fire and blood and fighting and black faces and dancing and looting and buildings falling and the whole world looked like it had gone mad.
"This is unbelievable," the suave voice of the announcer strained to keep control. "No one could ever have thought this could have happened here. The word is GET WHITEY. Whatever the cause, it is all happening now. Look out!" he called, then the picture was panned to a falling wall of a four story building. It hurled itself into the street, sending up sparks and noise that filled the microphones and for all the world sounded like an earthquake. Flames were everywhere, smoke billowed into the crowded smog-filled air, and then the camera was turned so that a group of looters were focused onto the screen. There were many of them, but the operator of the lenses panned down to a scene that was unbelievable to the whole world and more so to Deborah even though she had a better chance of believing it than the other viewers. Two boys were struggling with a mattress, a big one, down the sidewalk, as other people laughed and ran around them with their arms loaded with other stolen goods. "This is just not happening," the announcer said, "The horror of looting is one thing, but these two boys with the mattress makes one wonder. All their fives they've probably slept on the floor, the white world not caring nor doing anything about it. Well, if they make it home and if their house is not burning, they'll rest well tonight." He chuckled, then the camera picked up some other people knocking in the glass of a Safeway store, then swarms of people went in, through the windows and the now missing door. "It's too bad we can't get the camera crew inside and watch the shopping going on there. We wonder what they choose first, the luxury goods or the staples. We hope it's the latter, because this might be a long siege."
Deborah stopped listening. She was aware of a building tension in the room from all the boys, whether it was from the stupid words of the television announcer or from watching the power that was unleashed by the black community, which they had certainly been instrumental in letting loose. She realized that the television crew must be somewhere very near because Claude had only sent the boys to the next block. She glanced at the stairway, hoping against hope that she might be able to make a break. She saw a mattress coming down the stairs and shouts of glee rose above the din of the television speakers and again she was reminded that all was lost.
"Man, we got a mattress," Spike said, wiping the sweat from his face. "Cain't hardly breathe out there. And hot, man is it ever!" They dropped the huge mattress down in front of the television sets, barely missing Deborah. "You cats're actors," Claude told them, followed by a roar of agreement from the other boys. "You are. Saw you on the television, the big eye, hauling that ol' fuck pad right down the street."
Both Fish Brain and Spike were surprised to hear that they had been on television. Neither of them was concerned about all the authorities having their faces on file for possible later punishment. Deborah was sure that Claude had thought about that, but he gave no hint of it to the two boys. He looked at Deborah and told her, "That for you, White Chickey, you the star of the forthcoming show."
Again they all yelled and clapped and one or two of them took her arms and lifted her to her feet and threw her down on the mattress. Her dress flew open, revealing her soft, white body, her full, firm breasts and the soft wisp of young, sparse pubic hair that was curled softly down between her legs. All of them gasped. Deborah pulled her shredded dress tightly about herself, and lay like a wounded animal on the mattress. "Show time! Show time!" they started yelling, grouping themselves about her. They reached out their black, pink-palmed hands and tried to grab her firm white tits, a couple of them made a try for her thighs, and all of them talked about her body, using words that were part of their everyday vocabulary that shocked Deborah. She recoiled from them as though they were vipers.
"Let's have a drawing to see who first," John, the second in command spoke up, his eyes running over her body.
"Yeah, a drawin', a drawin' " they clamored.
"Shit on that noise!" Claude bellowed. "I the leader, I the teacher. You fuckers watch, but don't nobody gonna' get a piece until I got mine. You draw for after me, I don't care, but there no argument about who first."
There was noisy disagreement, but finally, all of them seeing that Claude was going to stand his ground, they did have a drawing. It was rigged, however. John declared himself to be second in command, therefore first after Claude. Fish Brain and Spike had hauled the mattress down, so they were permitted to forego the drawing and be third and fourth. The rest of them eagerly drew the numoered slips of paper and proclaimed their positions in loud voices, then turned their attention to Deborah again and told her what they had in mind for the two of them on her together when their turn came. She was sick.
Benjie shyly took a slip of paper, the last one left, and then said, "We forgot Ape. He ready. He been ready all night, since you fuckers left. I hadda stop him twicer."
Ape came loping to the mattress from where ever he had been, his huge cock in his hand, and fell on top of Deborah. She screamed in terror. Suddenly they were all on the mattress, pulling him off and copping feels of her, hands on her white breasts, fingers cruelly digging into her tender thighs, on her curved, rounded mounds and down her long, well-tapered legs. Claude swore and pulled and kicked at them until they were off the mattress, leaving Deborah in the middle of it, her panting and heaving body exposed to all their lust filled eyes. He sat on the mattress alongside her, his face sweaty, the lights from the television scopes giving him a strange glow.
"I tell you once already, I first. You muthers try anything like that 'gin and I take her out of here."
There were murmurs of consent and discontent, but they backed away, then came toward the kingsize mattress again, slowly, saying, "Let's git started. Show time, show time, show time!" They chanted in unison.
Claude reached over and took the small rag of a dress that Deborah was using unsuccessfully to cover her nudity and tore it off her. She lay completely naked, curled up to hide herself from their depraved stares. She tried to cover her large breasts with one hand and arm, and with the other covered her crotch, her hand laying on the soft pubic hair there, only increasing the passion that each of them felt for her. The television continued to project images of fire and smoke and shots being fired and water used ineffectively on the buildings. Sirens screamed constantly, coming strong through the speakers then diminishing only to be replaced by another coming and another and another.
Claude stood, removed his sweat-stained shirt and put one hand inside the other and posed in the classical muscle man stance. He drew approving nods and cheers and yells from the rest of the boys as he slowly turned around for all of them to see, to hold the full view of his muscled torso in their minds. Sweat glistened on his well-developed body, and he flexed his muscles time and again. Then he removed his shoes, then his trousers, drawing low, lewd whistles from the others. He laughed, poked a couple of them, and then removed his shorts.
He stood tall above Deborah, his body rippling with sleek, hard muscles. His shoulders looked to be three yards wide from where Deborah lay. His hips were slim, his thighs heavily muscled like a basket-ball player's, and his cock was long, and big, and hung down between his legs like a baseball bat, black and strong.
"Look at a man, you fuckers!" he commanded, turning slowly and flexing his muscles as he did so. "This," he continued, taking his huge cock in his hands, "Is a prick, a black cock. It for fucking, for filling that little, tight, pink cunt there," he said, pointing to Deborah's hand-covered crotch. "But it take a real man to know how to do it I teach all you muthers, you just forgit everything and pay attention." They groaned at the sight of Deborah laying waiting for him. He knew that he had captured their minds and their imagination. He could no longer, he was certain, keep their minds off the girl. He knelt down alongside her, said, "You muthers remember you don't never wanna' fuck a woman til she ready. Never! She gotta be prepared. Now you watch, muthers, and learn."
Deborah had been undergoing some strange sensations. She had seen the beauty of him as he removed his shirt, had realized instantly that he was trying to keep their minds on him and that he wanted them to remember that he was boss of the whole bunch and that he was capable of being boss because of the very muscles that he was displaying to them. Then he had removed his trousers and stood like an ebony-pagan god' above her, a virile and strong and sure one. She had been amazed at the size and enormity of his penis, but she was certain that other women had taken it inside them and that she too, would be able to do so.
She wasn't at all sure how and she was certain that she would suffer painfully for having to do so, but she hoped that, knew that he knew what he was about. She had to admit to herself that he was magnificent, that he had a build that every man should be jealous of. She didn't look forward to being raped, certainly not in front of so many people, but she decided that she would prefer he do it than any of the rest of them. The television and the mayhem that was being shown there strangely excited her, too. She thought fleetingly that she must be losing her mind, watching the world outside going mad and she laying on a mattress waiting to be raped and rather than feeling shame and disgust, she felt nothing, just slightly repulsed by her own inexplicable desires.
His hands were on her shoulders, then his face came toward her, his strong lips closed down upon her soft ones. He kissed her with a lack of passion that surprised her. Then he raised his head and said to the group around the mattress, "The first kiss should be easy like, just one of promise. Now watch this one." He placed his lips on hers again and her nostrils filled with the smell of him, musty and masculine and sweaty. He pressed his mouth against hers, then opened his lips, ran his tongue over her lips, then forced them open and ran his whole tongue inside her mouth, filling it full, then withdrew it abruptly and said to the boys. "I frenched her. She's liking it more all the time."
God-damn him, Deborah thought, he's reading my mind. She had liked it. It felt so much nicer and more gentle than having Benjie's cock in her mouth and she had the impulse to tell him so. He continued speaking, however, and ignored her. "I gonna' do the same thing again, and then again, until she respond. Watch." He put his lips on her again, covering her whole mouth, and sucked at her lips. Then he took his pink tongue and pushed it into her mouth and over her tongue and into her throat, then withdrew it and put it back and moved his lips against hers and then shoved it down her throat further, and suddenly she was responding to him. Without wanting to, her own tongue moved against his and she gently sucked at and then pulled his tongue deep into her. Heat shot all over her body and she forgot the rest of them, forgot that she was being forced to put on a show for a bunch of juvenile maniacs. He let her suck and nibble at his tongue and he kept pushing it further into her throat and then he took it away, pulled away from her mouth and looked her firmly in the eyes, searching for acceptance there. He smiled fleetingly at her, then spoke to the others.
"See what I mean? A woman, even a white woman, gonna appreciate you if you a real man. I let her have my tongue and she done sucked on it a little and now I gonna reward her more. You fuckers watch."
Deborah heard the indrawn breath of all the boys and felt his hands on her soft, yet firm and abused breasts. He took one in each of his large black hands and squeezed it, causing the nipple to stand up, pink and firm, and kissed that, gently, then swung his mouth to the other and did the same thing. He sucked at the soft nipple, then moved more of her tit into his mouth and sucked at it with his pink tongue, until the nipple began to harden, until Deborah felt a wonderful sensation creeping into her breast, a mild fire building there. Then he raised his head and said, "Boys, you done see a woman gettin' ready. Look at this pink, hard nipple," he instructed, taking it in his fingers and pulling up on it so that her whole breast was lifted up from her body, the luscious whiteness of it enhanced by the almost visible blue veins running through it just under the skin. "Now this one, see it still soft." He took the nipple of her other breast in his fingers and tugged at it, but it was still soft. He hurt her and she tried to move away from him, but he closed his big hand onto her firm soft breast and said, whether to her or to them she didn't know, "We make 'em both alike."
He continued to play with her other nipple, the one that he had made hard with his tongue, using his fingers to massage and rub it, and his mouth closed over the smooth whiteness of her other breast. He touched the nipple with his tongue, pushed it against his teeth, then sucked at it, gently, then took all of her into his mouth that he could get and bit and sucked and suddenly she could feel herself responding, she wanted to push his head down hard onto her, but she dared not. He sucked at her ferociously, his tongue, hot, working and licking at her soft flesh and he greedily sucked and bit until she couldn't stand the pressure building inside her and she groaned and he moved his mouth to her other breast and enveloped it in his hot mouth and she groaned again and suddenly, without warning, she put her hand behind his neck and he took his mouth from her and laughed up at the gaping faces in the circle around them.
"You see what happen', my students, you fuckers," his breathing shortened noticeably. "Look at them sweet nipples! Hard as rocks, they are. Look at the shape of this white tit. It full here," he ran his hand around the base of her breasts, leaving little strokes of fire there, "And then it come out here, sweep up here to dis," he leaned over and kissed her now thoroughly hardened nipples, "Little pink rose bud, and it a thing of beauty, and it to be kissed by men, like me." He buried his head again on her soaring bosom and kissed and bit and sucked and Deborah rose against him, pushed her breasts to his black face and her arm raced around his neck and she pulled him to her, down hard on to her excited and heated breasts. Her nipples actually hurt for his attention.
He moved his head down, beneath her breasts, and kissed the soft whiteness of her rounded, smooth stomach. His pink tongue licked out, then his strong teeth took sharp little bites of her flesh, sending thrill after thrill over her and through her. She forgot about everything, the boys, the clamor from the television, the shriek and scream of the sirens, and surrendered herself to his hot, searching mouth. Her whole body came alive and responded to him, burning where he kissed her, then the fire was penetrating deep into her insides when he nibbled at the flat smooth flesh of her stomach and she wanted him, wanted to feel him alive inside her, and her body began to move and rotate under him and he stopped and moved slightly away from her and said, "You muthers see that. You see that hot little white body squirming and twisting and burning under this black mouth? Gimme' a bottle of Scotch!"
Deborah heard the intake of breath from all of them, separately and together, a':d she realized that her own had been as sharp. She hated him. How dare he use her to demonstraf e his own ability that had been, she was sure, woiked on numerous times until he had perfected it to show himself off as he was now doing? She watched him lift the bottle to his thick lips, the very ones that had just given her such pleasure and she wanted to smack them with her fist until the blood poured from them. Then he handed the bottle to her, forced her to take a drink. She did gratefully, again the stuff burning her throat, rocking her v. liole body. She trembled and was jolted into rem inhering what was happening to her. She covered herself the best she could with her hands.
"Now fucker students," Claude drawled, "Just cause you got one thing working to your advantage on a woman, you can't forget all about that and continue. No sireee," he instructed, lowering his lips to hers again.
Deborah tried to resist, clamped her mouth tightly, and clenched her teeth. But it was no use. He put his strong lips on hers and moved them against her softer yielding ones and without wanting to her lips parted and his tongue entered her mouth and she took it with her own and sucked and wanted more of it than he would let her have. The alcohol burned deep within her stomach, stroking the fire that was already growing there.
He withdrew his mouth from hers and kissed her white, jutting breasts again, then moved his mouth onto the still hard nipple and sucked and pulled and bit and then did the same with the other and then away from them and down to her stomach and kissed and bit and the fires suddenly sprang to life and Deborah thought that she would be consumed by them and he worked and his pink tongue flicked all over the smooth roundness of her stomach.
His hand worked across her thigh, down between her legs, and Deborah closed her legs tightly to prevent his searching hand from reaching her vagina, knowing that it was headed there. But the heat from it, the hard feel of it between her soft thighs, she could not stop. She released the pressure slightly, relaxed the muscles in her thighs, and his hand moved up and closed over her hot little waiting pussy. His head moved down and he sunk his face in her pubic hair and he kissed her there and then she felt his teeth on her between he legs and her body rose up to his face and he raised his head and smiled up at her between the fullness of her breasts.
Deborah covered her eyes with her hands. She had never felt so ashamed and degraded in her life. She felt betrayed by her body, felt that it responded and yearned toward the heat of his mouth without her permission. She felt her legs being pushed apart and she made no move to counteract the force of his hands. It would have been useless anyway, and she discovered that she really didn't want to. The thought almost made her cry. He spread her legs far apart, rubbed his hand over her hot, pulsating cunt and she moved against it, the hardness of his pink-palmed hand against her soft, tender slit. "This the source of all men's joy, boys," he said, continuing to rub and massage her slowly responding little cunt, "And you fuckers gotta know how to treat it. Dis de lips, so called," he said, tracing the flanges of her vagina with his finger. "De nice and soft and warm. Yeah!" He breathed the last word, causing all the gaping audience to suck in their breaths together. Deborah uncovered her eyes and looked at what had become beasts of prey to her: their eyes stood out from their heads and the whites showed big against their black skinned faces and their teeth sparkled and reflected the weird light from the television scopes. Sirens still wailed in the background, fires seemed to be licking out of the television sets, and Claude continued.
"It ain't never ready until it get ready with a little help, til the moisture start flowing, but you can see the inside," he moved her vaginal lips apart with his fingers and revealed the wet pinkness to all their locked stares, and "Dis de flanges, de ragged edges, so called, and they fold around a good stiff cock and suck at it, warm like a puppy's mouth, and draw it in to de inner heat." He stopped talking and ran his hard finger around the inner edge of her cunt lips and it hurt her and she tried to move away but he held on and moved his finger deep into her and out slowly and before she knew what was happening it felt good and she involuntarily moved against his finger, then he withdrew it and held it up for all to see. "See de wetness, the sweet essence of this little pussy?" He held it under his nose and inhaled deeply and his head rocked back and forth in simulated pleasure. "Ah, dat nice and sweet to the smell," and he moved his finger under their noses and they all dragged deeply and groaned at their supposed pleasure. "But it ain't ready, not yet," he said and he moved to her and closed his mouth over her again.
Claude moved his hard sweaty body so that it was prone on Deborah, his sex lengthened and laying hard on her stomach. He opened her soft lips with his own, then gently slid his wet, hard tongue into her mouth. He felt gratitude and delight when she took, accepted his tongue with her own and sucked and bit into it. He shoved it deep into her throat, moved his hips so that his prick moved against her soft, white stomach, and pushed down on her supple breasts with his muscled chest.
Deborah felt the full weight of him on her, and she wanted to move from under him, to throw him off, but it was hopeless. He was much heavier than she and his mouth closed over hers and his lips burned into hers and her mouth was open and accepting the hot, wetness of his tongue and she liked it. She felt his hard cock on her soft stomach and it seemed to throb and radiate heat through her flesh and into the insides of her. He weighed heavily on her burning nipples and his chest moved against hers and it felt good and warm and protective to her. With him on top of her, she knew that she was partially protected from the gloating eyes of the others. Her hands went across his broad back and moved over the taut muscles there, marveling at the smoothness of the skin. His muscles felt like hard rubber to her touch and she enjoyed the feel of them.
Claude moved his mouth from hers and kissed and sucked at the lusciousness of her soft resilient breasts. Her hot breath burned into the top of his skull, heating the center of his being. He felt his sex throbbing against her warm, soft, body.
He wanted to plow into her, to shove the hard prick deep into her white belly and grind and shove and destroy the superiority of her whiteness for all time. But he knew he wouldn't, not that way at least. He felt sorry for her, he was determined that she was not to be abused by the others if he could help it Then he thought, she's just another white bitch, no better no worse than the next one. But his mind told him that he was lying to himself, and he had to agree. He was certain that she was a virgin, and he didn't want to hurt her, not deep down inside himself, and he knew that he was bigger by far than most men. But he had to, he had to fuck her gently and strongly because he knew that in spite of desire to do so he would never be able to stop the rest of them, that they would ravish her beautiful white body until all of them had pumped their lewd, hot sperm inside her and that there was little he could do about it. He only hoped that he could make them come at her one at a time rather than all at once. Bape had an ugly connotation in his mind and he could not associate it with what he was doing to her even though she was held captive. He thought that she understood his position, his desire to help her, but he wasn't sure. He moved against her soft body, virginal in the extreme, and lost control of his thinking, wanting nothing greater than to fuck her, to shove his hard cock into her tight pussy and plunge and rock her very soul with the blackness of him.
He kissed her stomach, the soft white smooth flesh quivering under his mouth and teeth, and then moved his head down to her mound and buried his face there, the soft pubic hairs tickling and teasing him. He spread her legs with his hands, and felt the lips of her virginal vagina and the heat shot up his arm in maddening rushes.
He had forgotten about the audience standing around him, about the television spewing forth the madness that he had helped create in the streets. Then he opened his eyes, wanting to feast them on the soft white flesh under him and it all rushed in on him, the roar of the firing and the roaring of the fires that seemed to be destroying the whole city and the pinging of shots hitting the stone of the streets and buildings. Then he was angry, at himself, his position, his whole world, thinking that he had thought himself a big man just because he could organize a bunch of stupid boys to follow him, and he jerked her legs apart and moved his head between them.
He breathed in the sweetness of her cunt and looked at the pinkness of it, the undisturbed quality of it, and thought that he would faint from the overpowering delight of it He closed his mouth around the soft quivering lips and bit them, hard, and felt them recede from his searching tongue. He swore at himself for being such a fool, and relented with his teeth and used his tongue to explore the softness of her. He moved his hands to her inner thighs and marveled at the softness of her skin, the purity of it under his touch. He placed his thumbs on each side of her small, tight slit and pressed outward and upward and moved the fleshy, hair-lined lips apart. He slid his tongue into the opening and her cunt closed around it. He stopped where he was, and probed deeper into her sweetness, and then withdrew it and knew that she had tried to hold him inside her. He moved it back in and deeper into her and took her clitoris with his tongue and licked it and moved it and she cried out and moved herself up into his face and his tongue went wild, searching for the total sweetness and honey nectar of her pussy. , Deborah had discerned his mood. She could tell by the rush of him upon her that he was thinking, not of what he was doing but perhaps of what he shouldn't be doing. She felt the thoughts occur to him, could only guess at their structure, but knew that when he slammed his body into her, pushed his hard heavy sex into her soft, yielding belly, that he was hating her because of her white softness. She could not help but to respond to him, to prevent her body from seeking the maddening games that were being played upon it.
She had felt his tongue licking at her tender stomach and the muscles there had contracted and then relaxed and then received his kisses and biting and she had wanted more of it. Then he had abruptly and not gently moved her legs apart and she knew that he was once again thinking of something outside himself, and his tongue had probed cruelly into her tight opening and she had wanted to be rid of it. Without warning, she didn't, didn't ever want that wet muscle out of her little hot pussy. She wanted it to move all the way into her, up to the very top of her, and lick and suck at her very insides. She moved against his face without meaning to.
Claude withdrew from her, feeling an intenseness from the 'students' that wafted against their nakedness and alarmed him. He drew himself up between the wonder of her thighs, looked at the slightly open moistened cunt, and said to the boys, "It time. See the movement, the contraction of the walls, here," he touched her softly with his finger, burning her flesh, "That waitin' for this," he moved his other hand to his hardened cock and rubbed his thumb over the throbbing head, purple and topped with a speck of white wetness. "It gonna' be a tight fit, ramming into that white hi belly, but it gonna go." A groan of pleasure and delight went up from the crowd "We's ready if everybody else is," he smiled at them.
Tuck er,"
"Git it in 'er,"
"Put dat old black bone in deep, man," they panted, moving closer and drinking from the always full bottles they held in their hands.
"Now she gonna fight it, men, they all does, so I may need some help just gittin' it in. Mighty big cock to be stuffin' in that tight, sweet little slit," he paused, closed his eyes and mock ecstasy, and they roared. "Now, Benjie, you found her, you go up by de head. Ape, you help watch her, you come back here, if I lose out, you try next," he waited for Ape to move behind him, the crazy look on his face making him sick as it almost always did, but he wanted him placed so that if he made a movement he would be instantly aware of it and perhaps be able to block it "Now, Fish Brain and Spike, you boys done been on the television and you brought the mattress, so you on either side of her to hold her arms if I say so," and he smiled at all of them, his hard cock sticking straight out and slightly upwards from his body. "And me and dis, we gonna pump her full of joy."
Deborah was trembling with fear, yet her body was ready for Claude's. She tried to unravel all his confusing thoughts, but she couldn't. She realized with half a mind that what he was doing was for her benefit as much as for his, that in his own way he was trying to protect her, did not want to bring harm nor pain to her. She had no other choice but to trust him, her fate already thrust into his hands, but the sight of his hard cock almost panicked her. Her mind reeled back to the sight of Tom fucking her aunt, plunging in and out of her hungry hair circled cunt, and she couldn't remember enough about it to compare the size of him to the size of Claude. She would have guessed that Claude's brick-hard pole was at least a foot long, and the head was huge and looked ready to burst. She didn't think that she would ever live through having that stuck into her virginal opening. She shivered in terror.
Claude spread the lips apart with his finger and slowly put the nead of his cock against the quivering wet opening. He had to hold himself back to keep from plunging on into her, but ne did. He leaned over her and put his mouth on hers, opened her lips with his own and eased his tongue into her hot, groaning mouth. He let her get used to the feel of both his cock and his tongue, then he slipped it on gently between her teeth, to the back of her throat, and she put her hands around his neck and drew him hard against her and sucked at his tongue.
He brought his hips slightly forward and tried to work the huge head of his cock into the tight resisting slit between her wide-spread legs. It wouldn't go. He eased off just a bit, rammed his tongue all the way into her mouth, tightened his muscles in his buttocks, and shoved and went into her and she flipped her head sideways and screamed, and he knew that he was hurting her unbearably. He sought her mouth with his again and gently kissed her and she accepted his tongue into her mouth and met it with her own. He let his cock rest just inside her, the tightness of her hot, throbbing pussy cutting into the soft head cruelly. He gave her time to get used to his hard cock in her, time for her to enjoy the feel of his tongue again, then tightened up again and brought all his muscle power to his hips and shoved his hard prick in with all his strength and she almost bit his tongue off. She moved her head sideways, ridding herself of that one organ at least, and the pain he caused her from shoving it into her vaginal slit was almost too much to bear. She tried to move from under him, but it was no use. Every movement on her part only increased the almost unbearable pain throbbing down there between her wide-stretched thighs.
Claude tried to shove on into her, but he was too big. She was crying, begging him to take it out of her, but he couldn't. He sought her mouth with his again, but she avoided it, so he shoved again, sinking his lust-hardened rod of flesh deeper and she screamed and clenched her legs close in objection to his monstrous invasion. Then, he saw his chance, as she momentarily relaxed her straining thighs, and jabbed on in to that hot, tight opening. Deborah's eyes bulged wide at the sudden unexpected impalement and she screamed and fainted dead away.
Claude knew that he was only about half way into her and she had already fainted. It is for the best his mind told him, so he motioned to two of the boys and each of them took one of her legs and pulled in opposite directions and Claude cupped the soft, still quivering mounds of her buttocks in his hands and gritting his teeth rammed on into her, his own pain intense from the tightness. He felt a tearing and breaking and ripping deep down in her defenseless little cunt, but it was done and could never be undone and he too, was suffering from the constricting tightness of her. He eased on into her until his pelvis was touching hers, and raised himself slightly and looked at the two patches of pubic hairs pressed tightly together, and then watched as his own black, thick prick moved out of her tight opening, the pink, soft edges moving down the length of his prick. He eased himself back into her, without too much stress, and moved all the way to the very resistance of her final opening, and rested and enjoyed the fire from her body pulsating hotly against his cock.
He watched as her eyes fluttered open, the sweat covered brow furrowing into ridges of pain, and he tried to smile at her. She would not meet his eyes, pissing him off, so he moved deeper into her and she groaned and tried to move her legs and only then did he remember that they were being held apart by other hands. He motioned that they were to let them go. Released, they fell as they were and she groaned again.
Claude slowly moved out of her, then eased himself back in, and she whimpered and cried and did not try to escape him. He pushed down deep into her and stayed there and put his mouth in the hollow of her neck and licked the sweat away.
Deborah had known that he was going to plunge into her, to split her little virginal cunt asunder, but she had not come anywhere near anticipating the pain that it gave her. She had felt that she was being split apart when he first pushed into her and that was only a beginning. Then, when he had pushed into her a second time the pain had been too much. She had felt as though a hot poker, a large one, was being shoved into her insides. She felt herself tear and break and then the whole thing had been blotted out mercifully by her fainting. The pain had also brought her back. She felt the fullness of him deep within her, throbbing against the forever broken and stretched walk of her helpless pussy, the huge head shoved deep into her belly, feeling as though it lay pressed next to her heart, and she knew that anything she did would only make it worse. She lay, stuffed and helpless, under him.
Claude had to move. He nibbled at her neck, felt no response from her, so he moved his hard prick down, and she did respond, her body convulsing against his, and then withdrew it, all but the head and then started back in and she begged him and put her small fists on his chest and tried to push him away but that only caused his need to increase so he plunged back into her straining cunt faster than he would have, and then withdrew and started back and stopped half-way and repeated the same thing, only this time shoving it in up to the hilt and she groaned as the pain miraculously lessened and her leg slid over his and he moved back out of her and put his mouth on hers and she readily accepted it and kissed his lips with hers and probed with her tongue for his.
He fed her his tongue slowly, pushing it into her and sliding his cock back full into her pulsating hot cunt and withdrew it again, not leaving it there, and her other leg snaked around his, and he felt a slight pressure there, hot against his thigh, and he plunged back in, hard, and the pressure stopped on his leg, then it was there again and he lost all track of time and action and plowed wildly in and out of her, his hard cock demanding satisfaction as he felt her own involuntary reactions beginning to take hold of her tortured body.
He built up to a frenzied pitch, driving his hard cock deep into her and then drawing it out and felt the pulling of her hands and legs on his and plowed and plunged and gave her long stroking motions and then it was there ready to burst forth and she slammed herself against him and he banged into her and he knew that she was ready to explode and his own body took over, independent of his mind, and drove hard to reach a ceiling of relief and felt it building deep within his balls and felt them banging against her soft buttocks and he rammed and jerked and knew that she was exploding and then he did, spewing his hot, white cum deep into her little soft pussy and he ground and she swirled her hips against his and all thought and feeling except that one overpowered him and he pushed and pushed and ground it was there, all of it, spent deep within her. He collapsed on top of her and enjoyed the softness of her hands on his back, light like a butterfly, and knew that he had just had the best piece of ass that had ever existed in the world and his mind said it was a white piece and that somehow made it all that much better.
He never wanted to break the connection between them. He knew that as soon as he did he would either be replaced by one of the many who had watched the whole thing or he would have the damndest fight on his hands that he had ever had. He wanted this one for himself for all time and there was no choice for him to make because it could never be. Aside from the fact that he had raped her, he was black and she was white and that was that. It could never happen. He knew it. The only thing that he could do was not be around to watch what the rest of them did to her. He felt helpless and more guilty than he had ever felt in his life. He reluctantly slipped his deflated prick out of the soft, still pulsating folds of her open vagina and lay alongside her. He wanted to say something to her but he couldn't. There was absolutely no hope he could give her.
CHAPTER TWO
Deborah lay alongside Claude, her emotions crazily mixed, hating him, then withdrawing the thought from her mind, then hating herself because of her feelings. She lay as he had left her, obscenely naked, her legs slightly open, the moist pinkness of her vaginal lips there for all the lust filled eyes of the other boys. She couldn't explain to herself the 'no-longer-caring' feeling that she had. Surprised that she had, after all, enjoyed being raped and caused pain, and ... she had to admit that there had been wild, untamed moments when she had loved it.
Her body slowly returned to her own commands and she drew her legs together, a useless gesture, since she had nothing on anyway. She slowly accepted the mayhem on the various television screens, in living color, and then looked beyond them. She gasped when she looked at Ape. He was standing directly in her line of vision, where Claude had placed him earlier, and he was still working his hands over his mammoth pole. His eyes were fastened on Deborah, a sickening glint in them, and spittle dribbled haphazardly down his chin. Deborah put her hand over her eyes to blot out the vision of him.
"C'mon, Claude, our turn now to fuck that white bitch," one of the boys drawled, setting the rest of them to howling and demanding their turns with her. Although she was not touching Claude, she could feel him tense up, knew that his mind was busy for her. She wanted to reach out to him, to let him know that she appreciated him, but she knew that it would never work. Her situation was hopeless. They were all going to take their turns in spilling their obscene cum up every orifice of her body and there was nothing anyone in the world could do about it now. The chance had been missed a hundred years ago when all the promises to them had been made and broken a thousandfold.
"Shut de fuck up, you muthers. John, de number two, he next in that deZtcious cunt. I gonna' show her how a man fuck. Shit on dat gettin' her ready like Claude say. Not de number two!" John informed the rest of them, dropping onto the mattress alongside Deborah.
She moved, placed her whole shivering body next to Claude's, the total length of it, and cried.
Claude spoke slowly and carefully to John, but his words were for all of them. "Look at them people loaded with Charlie's best shit man," he nodded toward the television sets. "I ain't gonna' miss out on none of that, not Claude. This black boy gonna git him some threads, man, and some shiny sparklin' rings-one for each black finger. Yeah." He held his hands out and spread nis fingers wide as though they were already loaded with diamonds. "It there for all of black men, we just have to hep' ourselves. Dat's all. Just go in one of them stores and take what we choose, don't wait for no wrappin'. No siree, it all free. Not for de askin'-just for the takin'." All of them, including John, were glued to the television sets, amazed at the number of black people running through the streets with a fantastic assortment of looted goods: some carried television sets, portables and huge ones that took two people to handle, all sorts of clothing, heaped high in their arms, and others drank from oottles held up high in what would under other circumstances pass for toasts, and the fires leaped and danced and the dust rose up in billowing clouds from the falling and collapsing walls of buildings.
Claude paused, waiting for them all to look closely and see what they were missing out on. Seeing his chance, seeing that all their minds and being were taken with what was going on on the television scopes in front of them, he continued: "An' this ain't gonna' last forever," he reminded them. He knew that they had turned their attention back to him. "So, we gotta' do, what we gotta' do, now. Them white muthers are gonna' get the whole Army down here and they's gonna' get them stores closed and protected. They's gonna' stop that shopping just for the takin'. An' it gonna' be soon. You all heard the man on the television say, they gonna' call up the National Guard. So we don't have long. This black boy, he gonna' get him some things he been wantin'. "Some things he can use. To dress up in for the night, to go out struttin' in the street-if there be one when this is finished, and more than that, I gonna' find me a gun. Yeah. Them white muthers ain't gonna' take me without no fight. NO siree. Some of you ain't nearly men yet, but that ain't gonna' make a shit to those revenge wantin' whiteys. Not a shit! I ain't never seen a store for guns here. Anybody seen one?"
He stopped talking and his eyes searched the group of boys. He did know where there was a gun store. He doubted seriously if it had been broken into. But, it was not far enough away from where they were, and his thoughts were directed to getting all of them out of there and away from Deborah.
"Dere a gun store T)out eight blocks straight West of here," one of them spoke. "I been thinkin the same thing myself."
Claude did have an amazing body. Tall, broad shouldered, slim hipped, and that cruel rod of his that had been in her tight virginal vagina, stretching, breaking and tearing, hung down, limp again, causing Deborah to think that he was huge beyond belief: she wondered how she had ever succeeded in taking all of that inside her.
Her glance slipped past Claude and rested on Ape. She cried out and covered her eyes with her hands again. Claude heard her cry out, had guessed what had caused her to do so. He spoke directly to John, not bothering to include the rest of them in his discourse.
"You stupid muther, that why you number two and that why you gonna' always be number two. We have our next lection, you still gonna' be number two if not maybe three or four. Sure," he turned his attention back to the rest of them, "We can lay around here and bang this little white bitch, sure that can be. We can all watch, wait for the whole group to do it. And when we finally haul our black asses to the street, there's not gonna' be nuthin' left for us. Nuthing! Now, man if you want to stay here and screw your brains out on that little white cunt, that you business. But de rest of us, we gonna' git what we can git while it dere to git. She ain't nothin. Just another cunt." He paused for a couple of seconds, then let his eyes sweep around the room again before he turned back to John.
"We git us some good threads, the best men, you be hot shit boys. You won't have to drag some cunt in to fuck 'er, she come all by herself."
"Yeah, dat right. He give de word man." Came from the boys.
"He know what he talk about. He our leader."
Deborah hoped they were right. She found herself praying that they would listen and take his advice. He was giving her a chance to escape and she was certainly going to take it, if he could just manage to make the rest of them leave. Deborah watched and listened to Claude, her hopes risinj with his every word. She hoped, prayed that he was right, that he knew what he was doing, that he could persuade the rest of them to leave and per haps give her a chance to escape. She glued her eyes on him, her mind recording his every word, his every thought, anticipating what he was going to say next and marveled at him, at his ability to sway a mob. And a mob it was.
Deborah trembled with fright, fearful that he would not succeed, even though she was watching him do just that. Much to her delight, there was a loose agreement among them, and Claude began to map out a plan, one that Deborah knew had not been in his mind until that very moment. All of them would leave together, would traverse the street in a bunch, so that not one of them would be bothered by others. He pointed out to them that there was mob violence, mayhem in the streets. Also, he made them realize that there was a certain safety in numbers.
Claude told them they would all go to the gun store first, that each of them would select the type of gun he wanted and take what ammunition they thought necessary. Then, he pointed out, they could thereafter protect themselves, and they could, once armed, more easily acquire the other things that they wanted. He promised them the delights of undisturbed stores, on other streets, that had not been reached yet by the roaming mobs of people. He pointed at the television sets, said, "Man, look at that street. Look at those cameras. Look where they are. Now all we gotta' do is sweep past those white muthers, turn right at dat block, and we got us a whole, free shopping area. Yeah. All by ourselves. Now which you muthers gonna'a stay here and fuck you self to death while the rest of us are getting rich?"
"I does not!"
"Not me."
"I go with de leader!"
"Dat right, Claude say go, I goes." The boys spoke, ready to go anywhere he might tell them to.
For all of them their wildest dreams were being fulfilled. Each of them saw his favorite item resting in the window of some store in his mind's eye, that they had never hoped to own. Now it was all there for them, waiting, ready for the taking. Their eyes were big and the whites shone and their smiles were joyful. They clapped and danced, reminding Deborah of a movie she had seen about a tribe of Africans and their tribal dance.
"Hey, man, what "bout a set of rubber?" One of them asked, apparently his dream of owning a car overwhelming all other thoughts in his mind. "We needs a car. We haul our stuff in style, man. If n we had a car."
"You a dumb muther," Claude told him, "Ain't no cars gettin' up and down them streets. No one can drive there. There's fire and there's bricks and whole walls in dem streets. Dey all filled with rubble. We don't need no wheels, man, we strong. We find what we want, we carry it back here. Dis gonna' be our headquarters, man. Ain't no whites even near this place. We got a good warehouse right here."
They all laughed and sung out their agreement with Claude. They were ready to go, to run out into the street and join the party there. Deborah could see that and she wondered why Claude didn't. She hoped that he would, that he would dress quickly and get them all out of there.
Then John spoke again. "I gonna' wait here for you muthers. We never gonna' leave her here alone. She'd escape. Not on you life we gonna' leave her here. She get out there, she gonna' tell everybody what our leader done fucked her, it be all our black asses gonna' pay, along with his. Dis big rumble cain't last forever, it gonna' end sometime and we gonna' pay. I gonna' make sure I done sumpin' to pay for," he said, looking slowly around at all the boys.
Their mood changed immediately. Deborah could feel the hesitancy on their part of either leaving or going. She realized that they just weren't used to making decisions for themselves, of whatever consequence.
One, then two agreed with John. Claude turned his head toward John, fixed and held him with his eyes, said, "You muther, you stay here. Get you piece of white cunt. Dat fine. You de one that talk de BLACKshit all the time when you forever yearning for de white stuff. You stay here, you fuck dat little white bitch, we don't share nuthin' with you. Not a fucking thing. We come back here, we gonna' be rich, man, rich. You be a poor muther fucker, living with a memory of a white fuck. So, it's up to you, muther. But I tell you here and now and for all time, I de leader. I am the number one.
AND I say there ain't nobody hauling shit in here for you."
The defeat John suffered was evident in his eyes. He looked from Deborah to the television scopes and the people rushing through the streets, loaded with merchandise. He knew that Claude was tricking him, that he was turning the rest of them against him. Yet, what he said made sense, even to John. He searched all their faces for a firm friend, but they all looked away or down at the floor, unwilling to throw their lot with his. Then, his eyes stopped on Ape. He slowly smiled, watching the slacked-jawed mongoloid with his huge pole in his hands, oblivious to all the talk.
"Claude," John said, calm and casual like, "We can't let her 'scape, can we now, Claude? So I say this: let's tie her up real nice like and jist leave Ape here to watch her. There ain't nothin' he want out dere in that big free market. Ain't nuthin' he could appreciate. 'An he make a good watchman. She try escape, he grab her, he work that big pole in her little cunt, she stop tryin' to 'scape."
"Yeah, good idea,"
"Number two thinkin' now,"
"He thinkin' for all us." Came from the boys.
Claude did not answer immediately. Deborah sensed that he had been put on the spot, that he had not anticipated any such suggestion from John. She looked up at him from the mattress and felt as sorry for him as she did for herself. She shivered as she looked at Ape. He meant death for her. The sheer animal lust and desire that spilled from his eyes sickened her. Benjie shoved a couple of the boys aside and stood alongside Claude. "We cain't do that, John," he said, "You know how Ape is. He git started, he cain't stop. He wouldda' kill her while you gone. We leaves him here guardin' her, we de killers. We sure are. She won't be 'live when we git back. She be dead, man." Deborah looked at him and saw that his face was streaked with tears. Again she wanted to clasp him to her, to protect him, to help him overcome his sordid background.
"He's right," Claude spoke softly, putting his arm around the frail shoulders of Benjie, "We ain't all animals."
"Right or wrong, won't make a shit. She a white cunt, jest like you done say, Claude, so don't make a shit. She stay here and not 'scape and wait for me cause I next, or she die. Dat's all's to it."
"You cain't. I caint leave her here, not with Ape," Benjie said, "Ain't nobody deserve that." His body was racked with sobs. Then, "An' I won't leave her here. She a human. Jus' like everybody. Black or white. I not leavin' her here with Ape."
"Don't you worry none, Benjie, we not leaving her here with Ape, not as long as I number one. You right, she human. She can't help cause she white no more'n we help being black. But, we can't be bothered by Ape. He slow us down, get us all killed. You stay here, too. We bring back what you want most. O.K.?" Claude asked him softly, slapping him on the back.
"Ain't nuthin' I want, 'cept ... that which ain't never gonna' be," Benjie said, moving away from the protection of Claude's arm and back into the crowd. His courage returned from the shelter of darkness and he said, "Maybe you git me a gun. Always wanted to know what it like to shoot one."
"We do that Benjie. I'll get you the best. Come on you muthers, time's a wastm'," Claude bellowed, pulling on his trousers.
CHAPTER THREE
"You keep that little of pussy warm for me, cause I be back," John said to Deborah, "Then you know what a real man like," he smiled hideously at her. She cringed, tried to cover her naked body with her hands, and looked straight ahead at the roaring television sets.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the television audience, this is still unbelievable," the suave, now tired, voice of the announcer boomed. "The National Guard are getting into position to make their initial entry into this holocaust. They are overdue. The heat is tremendous from the fires. THERE GOES ANOTHER WALL! Whole buildings are falling, reminds me of Germany at the end of World War Two. Indeed, this is a war area. There have been a couple of shots fired at us-everyone here seems intent on killing the man known as WHITEY. Or Charlie. Take your pick," he laughed, then was drowned out by the screaming of a fire engine. The camera panned down to the red vehicle, which stopped and the men jumped off and hurriedly dragged out hoses and turned the nozzles on the inferno that was closest to them.
Deborah watched in fascination. She saw one man dressed in black slick rubber with a fire hose in his hand, a smile playing about his lips as the camera focused on his face, and then he frowned, his grin slipped sideways on his face and he slowly brought his hand to his chest and then sunk to the ground.
"Someone is firing at the firemen!" the announcer yelled, "One of them is hit. Holy mother of God this is unbelievable!" He shouted, growing so excited that his words slipped past his lips without forethought. "Look at the right of the scope, ladies and gentlemen, and you will see some of the people involved in this. There haven't been people in the street here for sometime now, not this street, so it is amazing that all these boys should be here," he droned on and Deborah looked to the right of the screen and saw the group of boys he was referring to. Claude was at the front of the group, shouting orders and running as fast as he could go. The camera picked up the whole street scene.
One of the firemen, kneeling alongside his fallen buddy, took the nozzle of the fire hose and turned it full blast onto the boys, Claude first, knocking his feet from under him and tossing him against the street. Then he turned it slowly to the others, picking them off one by one until they were all in the street, rolling around and trying to regain their footing. Deborah watched as John made it to his feet, then the rest of the crew of the fire truck turned all their water power to him. He went down like a broken toy. Deborah wasn't certain, but she thought that she saw Claude escape. If he did, she realized, his fate was better than that of the rest of them. John was scooped into a basket-like stretcher and the other boys were clobbered and beaten by the firemen, then police arrived from somewhere and they began to club them and then dragged them off one by one, literally tossing tnem into a police van.
Deborah studied the whole thing closely, nappy and sad at what she was watching, hoping, in spite of what he had done to her, somehow that Claude escaped. She could not, did not, see him on the screen again. She looked away from the horror of the television, emotionally exhausted, and her eyes rested momentarily on Ape and her own hopeless situation closed in about her and she cried.
"Claude make it. He cut out. He too smart for all of 'em," Benjie said to her, knowing that she was concerned for him, not understanding why but realizing that she was. "He be back, you see," Benjie continued, sitting on the mattress alongside her. "Dere a pile of women clothes, if n you want?" He asked her.
Deborah tried to smile at him. She had gotten so used to being nude in front of so many people that she had almost forgotten that she was so. "Please, yes," she jumped at the chance to cover her nudeness.
Benjie went to the pile of clothes, picked up a couple of things, examined them, then tossed them aside. He came back toward her, carrying a sequined cocktail dress, laughing, handed it to her and said, "You gonna' sparkle in dis. De women de wear some far out threads."
Deborah took the dress, wanted to go to the pile of clothing and pick out something more suitable, then laughed at the thought that any clothing could be suitable for the occasion, then said to Benjie, "This is a party dress, Benjie. It's difficult to wear without ... underclothes. Are there any there?"
"You ain't gonna' need none and there ain't none there, anyway. You wear what I give you or don't," he said, picking up a bottle and uncapping it
"Benjie, please, let's not drink anymore. Please," Deborah implored, knowing that every time he lifted a bottle to his lips her situation worsened.
"Shut you white face, Bitch. You don't got no appreciation." Benjie spoke without malice, then tipped the bottle up and drank deeply from it He coughed and sputtered He handed the rest of the bottle to Ape.
Deborah slipped on the dress, which was a couple of sizes too large for her, and then set about organizing her thoughts. She had to get away. If she didn't, she knew that she would never survive because Benjie simply couldn't control Ape. She thought that perhaps she had made a mistake in discouraging them to drink, since Benjie had not really been able to drink that much and Ape was finishing the whole bottle. B: she could get a couple of more bottles of straight alcohol down his ugly throat, she decided, he would just have to pass out and then she might have a chance of getting away.
"Could I have a small drink, Benjie?" Deborah asked, sitting again on the mattress but turned away from Ape so that she didn't have to look at him.
"Now you talkin'," Benjie replied, handing her a full bottle of Scotch. He watched as she uncapped it and moved it to her lips. "Like a lady, huh? My whore mother, she drank half bottle all at once.
Man, she drank a lot." He grew reflective, looking off into the distance, his eyes clouding and his face becoming wistful. "Deborah," he said softly, "How a Jew different than other folk?"
She started to answer him, her mind racing over the possible answers to his questions, then she saw from the comer of her eye that Ape was moving. She shrank away from him, causing Benjie to laugh. "He just gonna' take a leak," he told her.
He did, too. He walked a slight distance away from them, and urinated against the wall. The smell of him immediately filled the air, strong and abhorrent to Deborah's nostrils. She tried to ignore him but couldn't close her mind to the sound. Again she thought of how apt it had been to described him as a horse.
"How they different?" Benjie demanded.
"What?" Deborah asked, startled at his question.
"De Jews. How they different from other folk?"
"I don't know, Benjie. I don't suppose there is a difference really," she replied, thoughtfully. She felt like laughing. She wasn't really a Jew, not by any standards that any Jewish person would consider. She had never been to temple, had never had instructions of any land in any religion. And, it was, she suddenly knew, simply a matter of religion.
"You don't like de idea of me be Jew, do you white bitch?" he asked.
"Oh, Benjie, that's not true. I don't think there is a difference, not anything that anyone could recognize. It's just a religious one, really. Put as simply as possible, the Jewish people do not accept Jesus as the son of God. I think that's about all really. And one other thing, they oat different foods than we do." Deborah spoke earnestly to him, dragging from the depth of her mind the answer that her own mother had given her when she had asked the same question.
"Taint so. Dat ol' Jew man own dis store, he eat like everybody. I et here with he and Claude. He et same as we does. You he," he accused her.
"There are all kinds of Jewish people, Benjie, really there are. I mean there are those who eat what their religion specifies and those who don't All black people don't eat the same foods, do they? Mostly, Jewish people don't eat pork. But I do, sometimes, things like ham or bacon "
Ape interrupted whatever thought Benjie might have been forming in his head. Ape, finished releasing a couple of quarts of water, came back to the mattress with a full bottle in his hand and sat down alongside Deborah, uncapped the bottle and took a long pull from it, some of it dribbling down his chin. He looked at the television set and pointed a finger and said "Aaah, soldier."
Deborah and Benjie looked too. The National Guard had arrived, were arriving, in jeeps and half-trucks. They jumped smartly down from the trucks and formed up in ranks and stood at attention, looking clean and well scrubbed and dedicated, Deborah thought. It made her feel good just to see them. She tried to determine where they were, if they were close where she was imprisoned. Benjie supplied the answer for her.
"They's jest up de street. De sharp. De ready to kill all us black muthers," he said.
No, that's not right, Benjie. They won't kill anyone. They're here to restore order, that's all. You'll see.
Ape held out his bottle and Benjie took it and drank from it, then offered it to Deborah. She declined. Ape made a lunge for her, knocking her into a supine position and was on top of her before she could realize what was happening. She fought him, scratched at his face, then aimed for his eye with her finger. He let out a roar and rolled off her, and continued to roll about and scream and moan and his hands covered his eye. Benjie jumped to his feet, went to Ape and pulled his hand away. Deborah had managed to drag her fingernail across the whole width of his eyeball. It was split and bleeding. She could imagine the pain that it caused him, then she thought that in all probability she had sealed her own doom.
Benjie turned from the moaning Ape and struck Deborah across the face. "Dirty bitch, you ruin his eye. For that you gonna' pay him." He turned back to Ape, put his band on his shoulder and said, "Ape, I let you fuck white bitch anytime you want, you hear?"
He heard. He looked at Deborah with his on? good eye, his hand still covering the other, and grinned through his pain and slobbered and began moving toward her. She screamed and moved backwards on the mattress.
Benjie grabbed her from behind, by the hair of the head, and pulled her back into his lap, then threw his legs over her arms so that she was resting her whole weight, from the hips up, on him. Deborah started crying again, angry that her strength was no match for a fourteen year old boy's and her insane fear of Ape closing her mind completely off. She saw him through her tears, silhouetted against the glow of the television scopes, kneeling in front of her and opening his trousers again, a crude, crazy smile on his idiot lips, his eye dripping blood from between the lids. He grabbed her white long legs and she screamed, kicking out at him ineffectually.
"Stop, Ape, wait," Benjie ordered, then took a drink from the bottle he had somehow managed to get into his free hand, then forced it into Deborah's mouth, saying, "You better drink. He big."
Deborah let the liquid be forced down her throat, glurped it down hurriedly, hoping that it would dull the pain that she saw coming to her in the form of Ape. His big paw still rested on her trembling flesh, the soft inner thigh, the new sequined dress bunched up around her hips, digging into her flesh, sparkles reflecting in Ape's one good evil eye. She drank, long and deep. Sensing that Benjie had gone further with Ape than he had intended, her mind raced for something to say to him to make him call Ape off her.
"Benjie, please, I'll tell Claude when he comes back," she sobbed, knowing that it was useless, damning herself that she couldn't think of something more forceful to say to a retarded, or at least untrained, fourteen year old boy.
"Shit," he replied, giving her hair a yank, "He never come back. He done throwed in that police car with de rest. I saw it on the tee vee."
"No. No, he didn't, Benjie. He got away. I watched. They didn't get him. Hell be back. Please, please Benjie, hell kill me." Deborah moaned, trying to move but unable to do so.
"Ain't nobody die from sex. Nobody, ever, white cunt. I wanna' ask you one thing 'fore, though," his pressure on her hair slackened slightly, "You ever hear of a nigger Jew?"
Deborah jumped at the chance that he opened for her. "Yes, Benjie, yes," she cried, "I have. Sammy Davis, Jr. is a Jew and he's a Negro. There are many more. I just don't know them all. Do you like to watch him in movies?" Deborah wasn't at all sure where his mind was taking the two of them, but wherever it was, it saved her from Ape, put off the time that he would using her for his own vile ends.
"He married to a white woman, Sammy is. He don't count. Can I be a Jew ifen I wanna'?" His body was tense and he spoke through tightened lips, his emotion overpowering him, his words being forced out of his very soul.
"Yes. Yes you can, Benjie. I'll help you. Really I will if you'll help me, now. I'll get my mother to help you, too, and you can easily become a Jew if that's what you want. I'll study with you and then we can both learn how together. Please, Benjie, please." Deborah pleaded, the idea forming in her mind as she spoke.
"My whore mother, she say my daddy's Jew. I cain't be a real man till I finds out about my daddy, 'cause she just a whore," Benjie said softly, spilling tears onto Deborah's naked bosom which jutted out of her oversized dress. His tears seemed scalding to her. She couldn't have believed that anyone in our American society lived as he apparently did, had been so abused and neglected as Benjie had. Her compassion for him was overwhelming, causing her to cry, her tears raining down for him and because of his neglect for her. It was apparent above all else that she wouldn't be in this situation, on the verge of being raped by an animal, if Benjie had had what was rightfully his during his short life. She promised God that was completely unknown to her that if he would spare her, she would look after Benjie, would provide him with the things necessary to life.
Benjie took another long pull off the bottle and then offered it to her. She glanced at Ape, still in a kneeling position between her open white thighs, his long, hardening black thick cock in his hand. She accepted the bottle, drank long and deep, and suddenly it fell away from her mouth and spilled onto the mattress. Benjie's hold on her relaxed at the same time. His hand rested on top of her head and his legs shuddered slightly, then went limp. It took her a couple of seconds to realize that he had passed out. Terror hit her a shock blow in the stomach. She cried out, made to run, but Ape knew that he was no longer to be stopped by Benjie; he pinned her onto the mattress, underneath himself, and grinned lewdly into her face.
Ape sought her mouth with his blood streaked lips, forced it onto hers. Deborah could taste the blood, then his huge tongue being forced into her mouth, over her soft tongue and into her throat, filling her with disgust and revulsion, the physical part of him hardly mattering to her at all now; she registered the thought that his tongue was much larger than Claude's. He pushed into her throat, then out and back in, and he began moving his huge, hard prick against her stomach.
Deborah kept her eyes firmly closed, her head swam from all the liquor she had consumed, which after all, hadn't been enough, and bore the weight of him, the hugeness of his tongue in her mouth, unable to think, terror of him having made her thoughts flee swiftly from her. She could feel the weight of his prick lying all the way from her soft pubic mound up to where her rib cage joined just under her breasts. It terrified her more than anything else about him. She knew that she would never be able to have that huge thing inside her and survive. It was impossible. Ape tore his mouth away from her, groaned, "Aaaah," and fastened his mouth onto her firm white breast. Deborah looked at him, feasting on her flesh, his pink lips and white teeth sucking and biting at her and his eye still dripping blood, and felt a certain amount of disinterest in what was happening to her. His huge tongue pulled and sucked at her soft nipple, then it began to burn her, to harden and send a sensation deep into her. She swore at herself, fought the feeling, but it was no use. It hardened under his tongue and teeth and gross lips and he bit and sucked and pulled at it and then moved his mouth to the other jutting mound and latched onto half of it in one swift swoop, pulling it into him, biting and sucking and working his tongue over it, then to the nipple, causing the same sensation to assault her, and the nipple sprang into rigid hardness and he took his mouth away and looked at her and bared his teeth and dropped his head back onto her soft, white flesh and like a man gone crazy sucked and bit and licked at first one, then the other, and suddenly, the very helplessness of her position sending a masochistic streak of lightning through her, Deborah wanted to push them into his crazy hot mouth and wanted him to bite and tear at her and she squirmed and moved under him.
Ape lifted his head, moved the shoulder straps of her dress over her arms, and pulled it down over her hips, releasing her arms, freeing them from their cramped position behind her. She grabbed for the bottle that Benjie had dropped, her movements slow and hampered by all the liquor she had consumed, and brought it back in a slow arch, aiming for his head. It connected, plopping softly against his head, on the same side as the injured eye, causing the blood to splatter off and onto her, but he flicked it away from her hand as though he had felt nothing-much in the same manner a normal person would sweep away a fly. He made a sound that passed for a laugh, then tore off his shirt, after placing his knee in her chest and putting his weight onto it, forcing the breath out of her, then tore at his trousers, his long, black, brick hard pole standing straight out from his body, over her.
He removed his clothes with little effort, then flung his body back down onto Deborah's soft white one. He forced his tongue into her mouth again, drove it in and out of her, down deep into her throat, then sucked her lips with his, causing her to again taste the sweetness of blood. He abruptly stopped, moved his woolly head down and closed his mouth over her breasts, almost gently, using his tongue to suck at her, playing with the still hardened nipples, using his teeth gently and not biting into the flesh as she had feared. His large cock throbbed against her soft stomach, sending its pulses thundering into her body, and her breasts willingly gave themselves over to his hot mouth. Deborah disgusted herself by her response to him, but try as she may she could not control her body. She hated it.
He moved his black, sweat-glistening head below her breasts and kissed her soft flesh with his huge thick lips, sending heat through her, and took small bites of her flesh, pulling it up with his teeth, then running his tongue over the same spot, moving lower and lower with each maddening loss and bite upon her until he had heated up the total smooth, soft roundness of her white stomach. He grinned up at her again, bringing her back to the reality of what was happening to her, and she made a desperate effort to move from under him. He laughed, closed his mouth over her breasts again, and bit down hard, causing her to cry out. He relented, kissed and sucked and pulled at the burning nipple, then repeated his performance on her stomach, causing the muscles to vibrate softly against his thick lips. He placed his huge hands on the silky flesh of her thighs and moved her legs apart, all the while kissing the soft vee of her pubic hair, rubbing his chin into her throbbing mound, then he opened her cleft, tender and sore as it was, spreading the smooth pink lips of hair apart alowly and then he kissed her open cunt, fully, with his whole mouth.
Deborah tried to pull away from him, knowing that the kissing of her crotch would only make him wilder to be inside her, but the slight pressure of his thumbs on the lips of her vagina, the opening out of the soft, sensitive flanges excited her. She could feel the hot air, cooler than his hot searching mouth, circulate about her open, pulsating cunt. Then she had received his full mouth, all of it hot and burning to her, flat against the lips of her cunt and it felt good and she had no longer thought of moving away. He sucked hungrily at her, causing his lips to turn outward and she could feel her clitoris touching the hardness of his soft, fleshy inner mouth and she wanted his tongue inside her. He obliged her, much as though he were reading her thoughts. He put the tip of his huge tongue against the soft, tender lips of her cunt and traced the outline of them, then moved it gently inside her small, sweet opening, and the walls of her vagina accepted it, sucked gently at it, helping it to intrude deeper into her.
Ape plunged into the sweet opening as far as he possibly could, flicking his wet probing tongue into the soft opening of her, then withdrew it and plunged it back in, all the way, time and again until, in spite of herself, she was moving under him, squirming the whiteness of her open loins up at his face, moving her tight, screaming little pussy up on his hot tongue, and he sucked and licked at her clitoris and it hardened and speared into his tongue and he touched it gently with teeth and spasms of hot feeling raced into the very depth of her now wildly contracting belly.
Deborah enjoyed beyond description his hot searching, plunging tongue. She moved herself against it, then had felt him nibble at her clitoris and she had lost all desire to hold back, to escape him. Her whole body burned, she wanted to grasp his bobbing head and shove and pull it down into her, but she stopped just short of that. She could not help but move her center of desire up to meet his plunging tongue, but she did manage to restrain herself from pulling him into her. Ape moved his hands from her cuntal lips, felt her breasts, took the nipples, still hardened between his fingers, and sucked and probed the hungry crack between her legs. He felt her responding to him, her whole soft body rising to meet his mouth and now her breasts, soft and firm and white under his fingers, the nipples rigid in them. He lifted her buttocks, massaged and dug his fingers into their slightly muscled flesh, and opened her legs wide and lifted her at the hips and touched the tight little sphincter of her throbbing rectum with his wet hot, tongue and then moved his fingers to the sides of it, the rubbery tissue closed tightly against him. He forced it open, forced the flesh, rose colored and brown, to move outward and then his tongue worked into it and the muscles opened and relaxed and accepted his tongue and ne shoved it deep into her quivering anal hole and then it tightened trustfully about his tongue and he slid it in and out and she moved against his face and he took his tongue away and worked it up her squirming loins into her cunt again and inhaled deeply of the musty sweetness and worked his index finger into her tight little ass hole and moved it in and out in the same motions and time of his tongue in her cunt.
Deboran felt the sensations of fire and raw nerves deep inside her, knew that her breasts were rigid and firm and that the walls of her cunt were working in perfect harmony with his probing tongue and in spite of her fear and hatred of the half-wit Negro crouched down between her widespread legs, she gave her mind over to her body, which had betrayed her before and was betraying once again. She shoved up at the black bloody face and sought his tongue with her cunt and ground down on his huge finger inside her and then it was there, the humiliating, yet uncontrollable feeling that she had had with Claude. It had to be satisfied if she were to keep breathing, so she ground and worked and pushed the soft whiteness of her burning loins toward him. All the tattered nerves of her tortured, straining body suddenly came completely alive and hungered, deep within her, for fulfilment and she squirmed and ground down on the finger and pushed her cunt into his face and sucked his tongue deep into her and it was there, it erupted, giving her a fleshquake of unbelievable magnitude, and she sucked him deep into her and then she came, violently, opening and flowing outward and pitching and moaning and then it was over and Ape sucked the essence of her new warm wetness salaciously from the walls of her cunt and she felt it all, the pleasure of it unbelievable to her. She lay still, his finger beginning to pain her now, stuck deep up into her tight little rectum, and gave her body juices to him and he accepted them with his hot mouth, sucking softly and gently and using his tongue to empty her of all her desire.
Having her need overpower her with such intensity had caused Debroah to forget about the inevitable. She suddenly remembered it. Ape was on his knees, between her legs, forcing them up and back, the muscles in her thighs straining against his black powerful hands, and he put the head of his mammoth brick-hard black prick against the lips of her vaginal slit and she looked at it, the big pulsating head throbbing against her, surrounded by her sparse aureole of soft, young pubic hairs, and shuddered at the reality of it all, at what was to be her next punishment. "Ooooh, little white baby, gonna fuck you pussy now," he slobbered, reaching for her mouth with his.
Deborah turned her head swiftly to the side, avoiding his ugly face and demented expression, and he shoved his hips, causing his huge pulsating head to burn against her soft, pink vaginal lips. He grunted and pushed harder and it entered slightly, causing excruciating pain to her. She tried to move away from him but he grabbed the soft fleshy mounds of her buttocks and held them tightly in place. He pushed again with the full weight of him and the huge bulb-like purple head slipped with a pop betwen the tight, cringing lips of her cunt Deborah felt as though someone were trying to force a telephone pole up between her legs and the pain was more than she knew she would be able to bear.
Her soft white hands moved desperately to his strong black shoulders and she pushed away with all her strength but he only laughed his insane laugh at her and she jerked her legs up and back, thinking to get her knees into his stomach and push him backwards, but he curled his arms behind her upraised knees and pressed them cruelly backwards until she was bent nearly double and the whole of her tortured loins were presented helplessly up to his rampaging cock.
"Gotcha now little white bitch," he grinned down at her terrified eyes and at the same moment flicked his hips cruelly forward sliding half the monstrous length mercilessly into the tight, stretched confines of her screaming pussy.
"Oooooh god, no! Please no!" she screamed helplessly beneath him, feeling as though the whole of her aching loins were being split wide asunder. And then ... through the pain and humiliation of her hopelessness a rising crescendo of noise drifted to her tortured mind ... and then, then the welcome folds of unconsciousness descended over her aching body....
CHAPTER FOUR
The roar and sudden noise that Deborah heard was not from the many television sets. It was' the clomp of boots on the stairs, the sudden appearance of two National Guardsmen. They stopped at the foot of the stairs and tried to accept with their minds what their eyes relayed to them. They saw the television sets, their glow weirdly filling the room, the huge and naked negro, his huge pole halfway sunk between the loins of the white girl bent helplessly under him, mis bleeding eye and his white teeth, his lips pulled back from them. They advanced further into the room slowly, neither of them speaking, neither of them sure of what was going on. They approached the mattress upon which the ugly ritual was being performed and saw the sequins of the wrinkled dress bunched up around her hips twinkling in the reflected light from the big tubes, the array of sets relaying over and over again the same thing, their buddies walking down the street, through the lashing fire. They looked at Deborah, then turned away slightly, momentarily, and saw Benjie. Their glances covered the whole eerie scene, roaming around the small basement, taking in the cases of liquor and the empty bottles littering the floor. Both of them seemed to come to their senses at the same time. They both barked at Ape, "Git off that girl and git over against the wall!"
He continued to look at them in his insane way, baring his teeth more, like a wild dog, and making his one peculiar sound, "Aaah," in a continuous high pitched scream, the blood flowing freely from his eye again, down his cheek and into his mouth and then out again and dripping off his chin. His large black hands looked more obscene, laying on the soft whiteness of the girl's open thighs, than did his long, hard prick that still sought entrance to her cunt, the head of it inside, the pink flanges of her moist, glistening vaginal lips clenched tight around its blackness.
"Git over against the wall!" The larger of the two soldiers shouted again, pointing his rifle at Ape. Ape did not move, but stayed as he was. One of the soldiers, the smaller one, stepped slowly, placing each foot down carefully and moving behind the lust-crazed black, saying, "You shoot that bastard's brains out if he makes a move," to the other, in a sort of whisper. He placed himself behind Ape, who had not moved at all, took his rifle by the stock and brought it around full force and the butt of it thudded against Ape's head. He toppled slowly, as though he were doing it in slow motion, and the same soldier had time to land another blow on him before his head hit the mattress. The last blow moved his head around, twisted it on his neck, so that his eyes rolled up and the whites of the good one filled with blood and matched the other. It was apparent to both of them that he was dead "Jesus, Dave, you really hit that muther," the taller one said, his rifle still pointed out from his hip.
"He's a fucking animal like all these black muthers, Joe," Dave replied, almost in a whining voice. "He wasn't about to do what we tell him. You agree it was necessary?"
"Yeah, I agree," Joe told him, then, "Look at big prick. It's still in her," he moved closer to the dead Ape and hit his prick a blow with the rifle. It slipped out of Deborah's cunt, still stiff and hard and stood out from Ape's body, then slowly wilted and lay deflated on the mattress.
"Jesus, look at that body!" Dave whistled, his eyes bulging out of his head as he looked down at the unconscious Deborah. "She's been down here screwing all these niggers, no wonder they're up there rioting. Bet she done took that little drunk boy on, too," he said, moving to the now snoring Benjie and turning him over with his foot.
"What a fucking heaven," Joe said, swinging his arm in a wide circle, "All these fucking television sets going at once, half of them color sets. Booze enough for the whole fucking army and one naked broad just waiting to get fucked. We really hit the jackpot, Dave. Yeah!"
"We cain't stay here, Joe. We was only detached to investigate. We gotta' rejoin the company." Dave whined again, wiping the sweat from his face.
"You dumb shit, look at just one of them fucking tee vees. The whole muther company done gone on down the street. Shit, we won't be missed for hours yet. In the meantime, I need a drink."
He moved to an unopened case of liquor, tore off the top of the box and lifted a bottle of bourbon out, uncapped it and took a long drink.
"You mean we gonna' stay here and fuck her?" Dave asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"We suddenly become twins or something, you dumb shit? I'm gonna' stay here and fuck her. You can watch," Joe replied, taking another long pull from the bottle.
"God, she's beautiful, even if she is a nigger loving cunt," Dave continued, his eyes still glued to her naked white body, at her tits jutting upwards, her legs slightly apart and her vaginal slit open and pink and moisture glistening around the lips of it "Maybe she's hurt or something?" he questioned, dropping on the mattress alongside her.
Joe bounded to him, put a heavy booted foot on his shoulder and let it rest there, saying, "She's dead drunk, that's all. That nigger was too big for her, never even got into her. And, I'm the one that gonna' fuck her, not you, so don't do any fuckin' around. You can look but don't touch." He continued to drink, then took the bottle and poured some of the liquor from it onto Deborah's face.
Her eyes fluttered open, she looked up and shrunk back from Dave, sucked in her breath and wiped the liquor from her face. She looked again, then her lips parted in a smile and she reached out for him, her soft white arm going around his neck and started to cry. He held her, rubbing his hands across her naked back, enjoying the soft firm fleshy feel.
"KNOCK IT OFF!" Joe bellowed, kicking Dave in the ribs. "I told you I was gonna' fuck her and you're just gonna' get all steamed up over nothing."
Joe's blow to Dave had knocked Deborah from his arms and she was again flat on her back on the mattress. She had heard what he said but it did not mean anything to her. She couldn't think beyond the joy of finding them there. Then she remembered her nakedness and she covered her breasts with her hands and put the other over her crotch. Tears of happiness filled her eyes and spilled over the edges of her eyelids, then ran down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and then moved her head slightly and saw Ape, his head split open, a pool of blood growing rapidly wider around his dark, shining head, and his long prick laying straight out from his body, and she shrunk back in horror at the sight.
"Yeah, we had to kill your nigger daddy, honey. He wouldn't do what we told him. He couldn't get that big thing all the way inside you anyway. You got a nice tight little crack," Joe continued, squatting down and putting his hand inside her thigh, his fingers searching for her unprotected vaginal lips.
Deborah drew back from the touch of him, startled at his boldness and at the lewd tone of his voice. Her nakedness seemed much more shameful to her in front of the two whites than it had with all the negro boys. Her mind slowly fathomed what she was hearing and she refused to believe it. It just didn't seem possible to her that she could have survived what she had and then be subjected to the same thing all over again by her supposed saviors. She started to get up to find something to cover her nakedness with, but she was too slow. Joe forced her back down with his strong hands, said, "Not so fast, honey. I know you prefer black cock, but I'm gonna' teach you the joy of having a white one. Yeah," he tore her legs rudely apart and looked down lustfully between her open thighs.
"No, please, I was dragged her by a whole gang of them. Please get me out of nere." She begged, now covering her eyes with her hands.
"Ah, Honey, you just had too much to drink. I don't blame you, having the selection that you have here, but you don't wanna' leave yet," he said, leaning over her and taking a rose colored nipple in his mouth.
Deborah reached out and dug her fingernails into his face, deep, all the strength she could muster put into digging at his ugly white face.
Joe drew back abruptly, biting hard at her soft breasts until the pain hit him deep down, and slapped her hard across the face, lea ving a record of his slap in the way of a red blot h on her pale white skin. He moved himself firmly onto her, pinning her arms behind her so that she was laying on them, and knew that the brass buttons, the ones he had polished so studiously for three hours, were digging into her soft nakedness. He pulled himself up the length of her body and sought her mouth with his, and was rewarded with pain. Deborah had used the only thing she had left to defend herself with, her teeth. She had torn his hp viciously.
He was furious. "You fucking nigger loving pig!" he screamed at her, through his torn hp, slapping her face from one side to the other, as she lay helplessly under him.
"Stop it!" Dave yelled, making a lunge for him and toppling him off the helpless girl. They rolled away from Deborah, fighting and swearing, and she tried to get away from the madness of the two of them. She rolled over to her stomach, got to her hands and knees and crawled in the direction of the drunk and sleeping Benjie, her naked buttocks bathed in the multi-color of the many television lights. She didn't get far.
Joe had managed to knock Dave off him and he jumped on top of her, flattening her, stomach first, into the mattress, "Come rain or sleet or snow or war, a man gotta' have his fucking, Honey," he breathed heavily, moving her arms and crossing them under her stomach. "You're a fighter, you are, and I like that, even if it does piss me off." He looked at Dave who was laying flat on his back, his rifle alongside him, said, "Get the fuck over here and help me and if you try anything like that again I'll kick your fucking brains in."
Dave slowly got to his feet, then started to pick up his rifle, hesitated and looked at Joe, then his face split into a large silly grin, and he came back to the mattress. He stood above them, looking down, said, "I'll help, but you gotta' help me too. I'm horny'n all hell too."
"Get your silly ass down here and hold her head then," Joe commanded. "You get a good hold on her, I want to take off a few of these clothes. Jesus, she's got a nice body," he dug his hands into the soft white mounds of her buttocks hard, and she squirmed under him. "See, she can hardly wait for this white cock to get into her."
Dave sat on the mattress, drew Deborah's head into his lap, then put his heavy booted feet and legs across her back. Joe stood up and unbuttoned his shirt, removed his heavy ammunition belt, then his trousers, his shoes and his shorts and stood above the two of them, naked, his well-muscled and slim body glistening with sweat. "Jesus, we all need a drink," he said, then padded softly to the stack of liquor boxes and fished out two full bottles of bourbon. He tore the cap off one and handed it to Dave, then the other and took a long pull of it, wiped his mouth and dropped to his knees between Deborah's long white legs and forced them apart
"Turn her head around so she can see what a white man looks like," he ordered Dave, standing straight on his knees.
Deborah's head was twisted violently around and her eyes took in the whole of him. His flesh looked white and soft and naked and obscene to her. She moved her eyes down to his prick, which hung limply between his legs, and moaned. He was, to her eyes, almost as big as Ape, the only real difference being that he was white. The head of his cock, large and purple and blood filled, looked huge to her. She moved her eyes to meet his and the hate that poured out of them startled him.
He picked up his large white prick and waved it at her, saying, "You like the look of that, Honey? You gonna' like the feel, but you ought to remember how it looks because you might see the head of it," he rubbed his thumb over the purple head, "comin' right up out of your sweet little mouth. Yeah," he took another long drink. "Dave you better get a little more liquor down her throat, she's gonna' need it." He laughed a dirty laugh.
Dave pulled her head back around and took her hair in his hand and bent her head back, away from him, and forced the bottle into her mouth. The liquor flowed down her throat and she coughed and gagged and it still poured in and bumed her throat and stomach and then felt good to her.
Deborah never knew that she was capable of hating as she hated these two now. She had accepted her earlier fate at the hands of a group of un educated (except for Claude) ruffians because she had no other choice and she couldn't in her heart blame them for taking advantage of all the things that had so long been denied them. But these two, being paid to defend her, to fight and give their fives if necessary to save hers and all the other people's who had worked for their existence, she hated. They had no reason to act like animals. She swore to herself that she would repay them, fully, for their evil deeds upon her body. She tried to convey that thought to Joe.
"Pull your knees up, Bitch, we're gonna' do this dog style," he laughed, his hands around her small waist. He lifted her up, pushed her own legs forward with his muscled ones, and ran his hand over her soft' curved mounds. "Man, what skin, and sweet, and soft and tight!" He leaned over her and took her firm breasts in his hands and squeezed them and moved his half-hardened prick across the smooth, unblemished skin of her buttocks. He worked at her nipples with his fingers, the soft rose pink flesh pliant in the coarseness of his hands, and felt them hardening, causing his own prick to lengthen and harden more and he buried his face in her soft black hair and breathed deeply of it, then kissed the warm smoothness of her neck, then moved his mouth down her back, his tongue licking and his teeth digging into the whiteness of her smooth skin, and to her buttocks. He took a mouth ful of them, and then moved his face into the soft, resilient crevice and his tongue darted out and tentatively touched her tight, puckered anus. She groaned aloud from his obscene probe and he let go of her breasts and moved his hands back to her buttocks and moved them gently apart and forced his tongue through the tight rubbery opening and worked it hotly into her rectum.
Deborah moaned, her body revolting against the ravishing by her hoped for saviors, and tried to move away from his probing and biting and she waved her sensuously curved ass from side to side to escape his hot thrusting tongue, then felt it burn against her and suddenly she hated herself for wanting it there, for liking the feel of it probing into her tight secret hole. She turned her head from side to side and was startled to find that Dave too was hardening against her cheeks.
He pushed her head harder into his crotch and moved his hips upwards, forcing her face against the coarse material of his uniform. He lifted her head by clutching her hair and unzipped his trousers. He got his prick out of his shorts and tried to force it into her mouth, his fingers tearing cruelly at her tightly resisting lips. Joe, kneeling behind her, had hardened to amazing rigidity. His long prick now stood hard and firm from his body; he took the blood filled head and parting the soft, resilient curls of her pubic hair forced the head of it gently up into her.
Deborah groaned aloud at the new and unexpected invasion and pressed her face tight into the crotch in front of her to still the scream she knew was coming.
"KEEP HER THE FUCK QUIET!" Joe demanded of Dave, worming into her a couple of more inches. He stopped there and ran his hands over her buttocks and then up her small fear-quivering body and around her ribs and took her firm breasts in his hands and felt the still hardened nipples with his fingers and then let his hands cup the whole of her large, firm breasts again and eased a little more of his huge prick into her.
Dave forced her mouth open, then made her accept the purple throbbing head of his cock into the soft, warm confines of her resisting mouth. He took her head and forced it down upon him, his prick not as hard as it would be shortly but the tight wetness of her mouth and gently moving tongue feeling good to him. He spread his legs wide apart and forced her head on down until he felt his prick at the back of her throat and he moved her head by the hair and worked her face more fully onto him and knew that it was there, down deep into her gullet and he pulled her head up and then moved it back down upon him and his prick jumped into full hardness. He felt weak from the ecstasy of her soft mouth on his throbbing prick. He looked at Joe, said, "She won't be making any more sounds." He laughed.
Joe's hard prick was only half-way into her warm, tight cunt. He looked at her voluptuously curved buttocks and her narrow waist from which they flowed out easingly, at the smoothness and shape of her shoulders, and eased in a little further, forcing her hips apart with his hands. He took a deep breath and rammed into her fully, forcing her forward with the weight of his own body, and loved beyond reason the wet hotness of her and the throbbing of his hard prick inside. He eased out slowly and felt her fragile body tremble under his hands and that, too, sent ripples of pleasure through him. He looked down at his rock-hard prick, the head secreted just inside her soft, clasping cunt lips, and marveled at the soft flanges of her laying softly against his throbbing cock.
Deborah's mouth was filled to overflowing with the bigness and the sudden hardness of Dave's prick, the soft spongy head of it deep in her throat, and she thought that she would faint from pain with the plunging into her of Joe's huge cock, going deep into her insides, harshly and without warning to her. Her body glowed hotly from the scalding liquor that had been forced down her throat and she could feel the heat working itself inside out, exploding on the surface of her flesh.
Her firm breasts were hot and receiving the attention of Joe's hands with eagerness and she loathed herself for that, for being so easily brought to readiness by way of her breasts. She felt the hard prick easing out of her warm cunt and she moved her hips, hoping to escape that hot, fleshy rod, but only caused him to release her breasts and grab onto her hips and steady them and plunge back into her, hurting her terribly, wedging her apart inside, deep inside. Her mouth was forced down on the bigness of Dave.
They rocked her body between them, Joe plunging deep into her and forcing her forward so that Dave was forced deep into her throat until she thought that surely the heads of their hot, hard pricks would meet inside her, would destroy her and each other at the same time. Much against her will she began to , if not enjoy the obscene pounding of her body, the rocking of it between the two of them,-a rising need that she cursed herself for having. She hoped that she would not move against him, would not in any way indicate to him that she accepted or wanted what he was forcing her to do.
Joe loved the feel of resting deep inside her, loved looking at her moist pink flanges just folding out of her tight little pussy, and holding tightly to his hard prick. He knew that she had accepted the inevitable and that however much she might try to resist, that she was beginning to respond. Her flesh, so soft and firm and living in his hands, trembled with every inward plunge of him, while he had his rock-hard cock thrust deep into her, differently, so that he knew that she was beginning to appreciate him. He withdrew slowly, knowing the slow movement of him against the walls of her vagina would increase her desire, and he was careful to withdraw, then just as cautious about feeding it back to her, slowly and with deliberate consideration, until he was deep within her again, then he ground down and rocked gently, his belly slapping softly against the well-rounded moons of her ass, and slipped in and out of the wet, slippery opening of her and she began to move under htm and he could tell by the look on Dave's face that her sucking of his prick had changed rhythm.
Joe pressed the soft moons of her buttocks together and pushed them gently away from him as he drew out of her, then squeezed them back once he was firmly inside and felt her muscles tighten to pull him forward, to bury his hot hardness deep into her. He worked his thumb into her open crevice, pressing the sides of the rubbery lips of her anus open, and then eased one finger through, and pushed it up to the joint of his hand when he plunged into her again. She moved her ass wildly to rid herself of his thumb that dug cruelly into the sides of her, waved it back and forth to rid herself of the unwanted torture. But strangely, in spite of her resistance, it excited her as much as the hot hardness inside her. She sucked and licked and accepted the hot throbbing cock in her mouth and throat, hoping that he would finish with her soon and that he would withdraw, then not wanting him to, not wanting the plunging and violating of her mouth and throat to ever end. A white hot need was building deep within her and she couldn't deny it, couldn't make her nerves reverse their course and not want what they so eagerly sought. She was buffeted and pounded at the mouth and in her hot little cunt and at her tight, soft asshole and suddenly she couldn't get enough of any of it.
Joe plunged and ground and shoved and tore into the delicious opening of her, enjoying the sight of his wet, glistening prick pulling out of her pink cuntal lips, the strange disappearing of it back into the depth of her. He felt the throbbing of his hard cock against the smooth, wet walls, the tight hot folds of her sucking of him, and he thought he would drown in his ecstasy of pleasure. He gripped at her slim waist, then at her buttocks and slammed her back onto his hard pole and then lifted her away and rode hard and deep on her back and suddenly it was all building up to release and he changed his speed, like shifting gear of an automobile, and all else was torn from his mind ex cept the satisfaction of fulfilling that desire. He slammed his rod far into her, stabbing and sticking and impaling the very core of her on his hot, plunging pole. Then it was there, it built low in his groin and collected its own hot energy, then shot out like wildfire, tearing his whole being out with it and moved through him, the length of hot stiff rod and burst out the end and spewed into her desperately clasping little cunt. He ground down and moved his stomach wildly against the firm bucking mounds of her quivering buttocks and emptied into her. And, he still came and couldn't get it all out of him fast enough and all his energy was spent as his semen hurled through him and deep into her lasciviously contracting belly. He jabbed, speared in, in short choppy movements until he was spent, until the whole of him had been shot into her, and then she started to move against him, without his pulling and moving her hips, and he let her have him, all of him, the still rock hardness of him and she ground against nim and moved off him slightly, then crashed back, spearing herself on his hard prick and he put his hands on her shoulders and knew that Dave was emptying his scalding semen into her throat and that she was taking it down, gratefully, feeling the muscles in her shoulders contract and work with her neck muscles. Suddenly he needed to come again, to shoot hotly into her, and began to work with her, grabbing her ass again in his hands and squeezing her beautiful salaciously pumping buttocks together and feeling the muscles tighten up on him on the inside of her and the head of his prick which was throbbing again slipping inside and over the muscled tissue that was at the very core of her and he ground on and he felt her give and come and burst inside and her slow melting outward brought him to the peak of readiness again and his balls tightened and the same feeling that he had experienced only a short time before built fantastically fast and then his hot semen spewed forth again and raced the length of his prick and burst out the end, tearing at the small opening there to make its way out and into her. He groaned low, loud and long and then pitched forward, against the soft whiteness of her, and lay atop her back, his prick still buried deep within the folds of her still throbbing cunt, and their bodies together, sweaty and spent and wonderfully exhausted.
Dave had been dumbfounded: he had loved the warmth of her soft throat and the hot feeling of her tongue working on his hard rod, but he was conscious of the fact he had had to force her to shove his prick inside her moist mouth and down into her throat. Then, from outside his thinking, outside his awareness, he realized that Joe, his experienced buddy, Joe, was causing her, making her, suck wildly at his, Dave's hot prick. He had moved his hands away from her head, his lifting and pushing down upon it no longer necessary at a certain point, and braced himself on his hands, leaning the weight of his torso on them, his cock deep in her throat, her red lips moving down and touching the very bottom of his hard prick, sucking and pulling what had seemed to him his very life's essence from him, and felt, deep in his groin, a building, a readiness to give up his hot semen, to spew down her throat and toward the center of her being. He had often dreamed of being in just such a situation, but he had realized even when he was dreaming, even as he made fantasy in his mind that they were that, just dreams, and never had he hoped, consciously to ever have the soft lips of a girl on his rod He braced himself, all of his muscles taut and ready and her mouth became hotter and more demanding of him and then he handed himself over to his own roaring need of relief that clutched and clawed at his insides and released his semen, white as he knew it was from watching it spew forth from the head of his prick when his hands had caused it to flow forth, felt it burst from him down into her throat. He turned his attention to Joe, his own energy sucked out of him, his now feeling of disgust with Deborah heavy on his thinking, his mind veering away from the fact that he had forced her into doing what she had just so well performed and looked at his buddy who was plunging and plowing and shoving his huge hard cock into her. He realized that Deborah was pushing against Joe as hard as she could. Before his watchful and alert look, their movements became more frenzied and hurried and he thought he saw both of them shudder at the same time, Deborah ramming her beautiful ass down hard onto Joe's stiff prick, which disappeared and reappeared in lightning flashes, glistening and throbbing, the veins standing up hard on it, and suddenly Joe had thrown his head back and groaned and moaned and a huge sound erupted from his throat, and then he collapsed on top of the equally spent girl. He still stared at them, at the both of them, in disbelief. His first experience with sex was different than anything he could ever have imagined.
Deborah lay under him, her body sweaty and hot, that ugly need for untamed lust had reared itself in her tired body once again satisfied, her insides relaxed. Again she felt revulsion of self. The soldier s hard prick was still rammed hotly in her tight slit behind her, she could feel the warmness of her own flow mixed with his, working against the wall of her vagina, moving outside her body. She lay in peace with the total weight of him on top of her. Her mind was not working for a long period of time-until her self-revulsion set in. She thought of all the books she had read about sex and love scenes and the supreme moment when everything came together and desired fulfillment was there, but it had always been beyond her imagination. She had never thought that she would experience any such thing, because it had been to her mind only a writer's fancy that had portrayed the human body of being capable of so much feeeling. But now, she knew it was not so, that it was not the far out fantasy of any writer, but on the contrary that no matter how good a writer might be at his art or skill, he would never be able to convey, to put onto paper the words necessary to describe the mounting of that desire and then the final fulfillment that she had been through. She supposed that that was just the way things were, that she could no more help being as she was than she could help being a girl. She let her mind wander back, drift lazily over her own situation and wondered again, her mind groping for an answer, of what was to become of her. No one would ever believe her, of that she was certain. She could hear herself explaining how she had stumbled into the riot, at its very inception, that she had been captured by a gang of black toughs, that she had been on the very precipice of being ruined for life by having the huge horse cock of Ape shoved into the very core of her, splitting and ripping and tearing her apart, never to be well and whole again. The whole of Deborah's experi ence since ranning so blindly away from her aunt's house became more nightmarish as she thought about it. Just as any other human, her thoughts centered upon herself. She couldn't think beyond her impossible situation. She moved her tired body "Please get off me."
Joe slipped his now deflated prick out of her, the head plopping wetly out of the tight lips of her little pussy with a sound that was unmistakable. She turned over on her side then, rolled onto her back and looked up at his face, seeking his eyes with hers. She thought she saw an apology, instant and cursive though it was, in his eyes. That made her relax inside, eased her mind somewhat.
She put her attention on the many television sets again. Fires were still raging, buildings were still falling into the street and it occurred to her that she had never realized that there were that many buildings to fall, but strangely there was a new order to the whole scene that had not been there the last time she looked. There were more police cars in the street, the National Guard troops had advanced, apparently, far into the riot torn area. Firemen were trying to bring the fires under control without hindrance. Suddenly the sound from the television sets entered her thinking process and she listened to the announcer.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I never thought to see anything like thisl There have been riots all over the country lately, but this is war! There is nothing left here. The hate that these people feel, the frustrated anger they have toward the whole white community-I simply can't put it into words. What is happening here, what is becoming apparent to all the television people, is that this was not started by a few hotheads, a few black racists, even though it might have been, but certainly the rest of the negro community here went for it in a big way, as you can see. There's nothing left. All services have been disrupted. The food supply will begin to get shorter and shorter. There is nothing left on the shelves of the stores. Nothing. That is in the stores still standing. The water pressure is down to almost nothing. The firemen have been fired upon trying to put out the fires that these people started. There is nothing in a three block area that is standing, that isn't burning or else a smoldering pile of ashes. Yet, the riot goes on. We are not close to bringing it under control. There is no meeting with leaders-there are none."
His voice droned on describing the mayhem, the chaos, and Deborah knew that he, the announcer, was trying to grasp what he was seeing. She had had some very recent experience in doing just that herself. But that didn't, she realized, help her. She lay naked, her ill-used body sore and tired, dumbly staring straight ahead.
Joe spoke to her. I'm . j. I'm sorry, I ... I guess I don't even know your name."
Deborah turned a cold stare upon him, held his eyes with her own, said, "Deborah. But, I know yours, Joe."
"Well ... yeah ... look, Deborah ... I wanted to explain something, to you ... see ... we're just in the National Guard, you know. We were called up to put down this riot and the first place we come to we find you here and that big black mother on top of you trying to ... to fuck you." He stopped and looked away from her.
"Oh, shut up!" Deborah lashed out at him. Anger taking control of her, at him. As soon as she said it she was sorry. She knew that she could talk to him, could perhaps manipulate his thinking even if she had failed with the black ones.
"You're a disgrace," she said, "A disgrace to the uniform and a disgrace to the nation."
"Well, now, wait a minute," he started, I'm not asking you to tell me about myself, no siree. I just wanted to explain to you how we got here and why maybe we acted like...."
"Tigs!" Deborah supplied the word for him. "I don't care how you got here. You did get here. You made it You have raped me, big warriors that you are, and you'll pay for it If I five, if I survive this madness, you'll pay."
"Not so fast there," Joe warned, I might have forced you a little, but don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."
"Oh, shut up! What do you mean enjoy it? What choice do, did I have? Being attacked by two riot control troops like you? Sure, I enjoyed it. You're the lover of the century. And when and if I get out of here, I'm going to see to it that you and your buddy there," she jerked her head in the direction of Dave, "Are punished. Maybe you'll enjoy that. You're ten times worse than any of the black boys that dragged me here. You're more animalistic. And there's no excuse for it on your part, none whatever. They set out to cause disorder and they did it. You two, who have a great deal more education and training than they, came here to restore order and lost control of yourselves before you joined the battle. If I live, if I get out of here alive, I'll see that you get the punishment that you so well deserve."
"Look ... ugh ... Deborah ... ugh ... please. I know how you feel. It's just ... well, that you have one hell of a body. Who can resist it?" He tried to smile.
He succeeded in making Deborah aware of her nakedness all over again. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. She turned her head abruptly and spoke to Dave, "There are piles of women's clothes over there. You find me something suitable to wear-something for the occasion," she laughed bitterly, "And be damned quick about it!"
Dave sprung to his feet and moved hurriedly toward the pile of clothes. He shuffled through them, holding a dress up, looking at it critically, then tossing it aside and picking up another. Finding one that he liked and thought might please her, he brought it back to her and held it out at arm's length.
Deborah didn't even bother to look at it. She slipped it on over her head and pulled it down so that it covered her legs. It was another cocktail dress, much too large for her, and she had to hold her hand over the top of it to keep her breasts modestly covered.
Dave stood looking at her, his eyes bugged out, fixed on her. She looked up, knew without thinking that she had somehow become more desirable to him clothed than she had been nude. She felt like smashing him. Nothing she did, she told herself, was right. She gave a little laugh at the things she had done wrong, the steps she had taken that had all, it seemed to her, worsened her situation. Now another. But, she felt she could handle him. If she couldn't, she told herself, she was far beyond hope.
"Sit down and quit staring at me! I find it revolting!" Deborah barked at him.
He turned slowly, having heard a sound that she had missed because she had been speaking, and looked at Benjie. He was coming awake, making groaning sounds that any drunk would make when he awakens with a hangover. He sat up and put his hands carefully around his head and cradled it, then looked through his fingers slowly, and moaned, "Gawd, de Army's here!" Joe was standing in front of him before he finished the sentence. He was still nude, but he had a half-empty bottle of bourbon in his hand. "So you're awake, nigger boy." he spoke slowly through clenched teeth.
"Yes suh," Benjie answered, not moving, his voice low and controlled, "I's awake."
Joe lifted his foot and jabbed it towards the small chest of Benjie and continued through with the movement until Benjie was laying fiat on his back. Joe's white foot was squarely on his chest, the toes just under his chin, and pressed down mightily on the frightened, accepting Benjie. "You black cock-sucker, you. So you ganged up on a poor little white girl and helped rape her, huh? The penalty for that is death, black boy, so you woke up just in time to go to sleep permanently," Joe snarled.
Benjie did not seem to be surprised. His eyes were wide with fright, with the comprehension of the hopelessness of defending himself. He turned to look at Deborah. He said nothing to Joe who was preventing him from getting full lungs of air. Deborah's feelings were stirring crazily. She looked at the gallant naked warrior standing so tall and deadly above the small black Benjie and did not react for a couple of minutes. On the one hand, Benjie had not been kind to her, had violated her and her person without considering the consequences of his actions, but they were actions of a fourteen year old On the other hand, Joe, her would be savior, had violated her and he was perfectly aware of what he had done and how he would suffer as a consequence. Anyway she looked at it, she had been the innocent victim of all their carnal desires, so she would have to use whatever weapon was at hand to save herself. She hated to do it, but she did. She pitted Benjie against the two of them.
"Take your foot off him, hero," she said, standing.
Surprisingly, he did as she bade him. She looked at the small Benjie, at his wide startled eyes, and said, "Benjie, these two big men have killed Ape and have raped me. I presume they will now kill you and me because if they don't, if I get out of here alive, I am going to see to it that they get what's coming to them. Do you understand that?"
Shame settled on her shoulders like a lead weight Benjie immediately understood. She could see by the slow movement of her head that he realized that she had put him in a position from which there was no hope of escape. Just knowing of their actions had sealed his doom, had cut off all hope of survival. She wished immediately that she could take back her words, but she couldn't. They had been said and the weight of them hung in the air like a rock over his head, waiting to drop and crush out the short life he had lived.
Joe turned to her, his deflated prick still hanging limply down between his legs, and spit out his words: "Well, Bitch, you done it now."
"You should say 'You have done it now,' or 'You did it'. Your English is atrocious, you miserable slob." Deborah answered him, her superiority over all of them suddenly asserting itself, making her smile through her words. Without warning she had begun to feel differently, suspected that somehow, some way, she might get the upper hand if she could just control her own mind and think clearly. Dave whimpered, much as a baby might, and confirmed her thinking.
Joe turned on him, shouted, "Shut the fuck up! You're in this just as much as I am, so don't start crying you fucking baby. We found this white bitch here with a gang of black looters and so we kill the whole fucking bunch. You god-damned well better never forget it or ever change the story." He began to sweat. His body was shining with it.
"I don't think he'll ever remember it, let alone forget it," Deborah laughed, "So if you are intent on another murder, you better make it three."
"Shut your filthy mouth, Bitch," he snarled at her, then shot Dave a sidelong glance. "Act like a man, god-damit!" he ordered Dave, pushing him aside and almost knocking him over.
"Joe ... wait. Don't listen to her. I can remember. We've been buddies for a long time," he pleaded, his eyes full of fear and fastened on Joe who was now the possessor of both rifles. "Shit, man, I always listen to you. Don't I, Joe? Haven't I always done what you told me?"
Joe trembled slightly, the sweat poured off his body, and he looked at Dave steadily, seeming to weigh and judge him, as though he were trying to decide whether to let him live or die. "Yeah, you're right kid. You and me are good buddies. You don't want to die, do you?"
"No, oh, no, I knew you wouldn't listen to her. I must be crazy thinking a thing like that. Let me have my rifle, Joe," Dave said, reaching out his hand but making no move forward, giving he to his words.
"You don't need it, Dave, you might do something foolish, like kill that nigger boy, huh?" Joe grinned at him. "You wanted to fuck her, too, didn't you, Dave boy. You might as well give her a good fuck before she dies, Dave boy. Yeah." Dave turned his hot scared gaze onto Deborah, his eyes filled with desire and lust, but behind it all knowledge, even if not accepted yet, of being trapped. "God, yes. I wanna' fuck her, Joe. Yeah, I do."
For several pregnant seconds their heavy breathing could be heard above the sound from the television sets, each measuring the other, one for sinceriity, the other for confirmation of the weakness that he knew existed in the other. Benjie lay still, his eyes resting on Joe, as were Deborah's, waiting to see what he would decide. Both Deborah and Benjie knew that their fate rested in the hands of Joe that Dave would do as he was told, would never have the spunk to go against him. Deborah spoke, hoping to split forever the breach between the two of them, not knowing whether or not she was sealing her own doom.
"You're not very bright, Dave. Hell kill you while you're in the act, and me too, and hell go scot free. He's smarter than you are and he's completely crazy." Deborah had spoken slowly, wanting Dave to hear every word and understand it She knew without doubt that Joe was thinking of doing that very thing. He could go back to his superior officer and tell him that he had caught Dave in the act of raping her and had had to kill him. She knew it.
So did Dave after it was spelled out to him. He turned hurt eyes on Joe and Joe laughed and said, "Buddy, you gonna' listen to that Bitch or me? Which?" he asked, raising one of the rifles to the level of his hip.
Dave's uniform was soaked through. Sweat dripped off his face. His eyes never left Joe. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out He made a dry hawking sound down deep in his throat, then drank deeply from the bottle he had in his hand before answering. "I listen to you, Joe, like always. You know that."
"O.K., Buddy, get your shitty uniform off and get on her. We gotta get back to our unit. You got time enough for one good fuck." Joe's eyes were pinned on the helpless Dave all the time he was speaking.
Dave began to fumble with the large brass buttons of his uniform, and he somehow managed to take off his blouse, then he had another long drink from the bottle, then undid his belt, unbuttoned his fly, and tried to get his pant legs off over his shoes. He smiled up embarrassedly at Joe, unlaced his boots and removed them, then took off his trousers. He removed his shorts and revealed for all of them his extra white body and his small, limp sex. Deborah laughed a harsh, cruel bark and said, "You have so little to be concerned about, Dave.
His whole body reddened. Joe laughed at him, said, "Let her see if she believes that when you're pushing her fucking tonsils out her mouth with your prick, Dave old buddy."
Joe took a drink, with his free hand made so by laying one of the rifles on the floor and standing on it, his eyes never wavering from Dave. Then, "Get that god-damned silly dress off her and get started. He turned his attention to Benjie and ordered him, "Hey, black cock-sucker, git off your lazy ass and help him. You might have to hold her." He laughed obscenely. Benjie slowly got to his knees, then to his feet, his breathing slow and measured and his eyes big and watchful of Joe. He looked at Deborah, said softly, "I'm sorry, but Ah gotta' do as he tell me."
Deborah was amazed at her own acceptance of her lost hopes. She had tried to bring matters to a head between the two of them, but Dave had been of no use to her. She had hoped that he might have stood his ground more firmly, that he might have tried to control his own destiny just a bit. But he hadn't, didn't have the strength nor the wisdom, she realized too late. She felt infinitely sorry for Benjie. He twisted her heart when he spoke to her because she knew that although his mind and intellect were untrained, that he was bright and that he had accepted his fate, that he was ready to die, and that he probably was being especially kind to her to say what he had to her.
"I know, Benjie, I know. I can do it without help, though." Tears streamed down her face as she spoke. "You won't have to hold me, Benjie. Just sit down, please. I don't want you to watch."
"Yess'um," Benjie answered, turning his head away from her, his own eyes gushing tears.
"Hurry the fuck up!" Joe ordered, causing all of them to jump at the sound of his voice.
Deborah, resigned to her ultimate humiliation, removed the cocktail dress, then lay down on her back on the semen stained mattress. Dave made a move, almost turning away from her, then caught himself and dropped down on the mattress alongside her. She noticed that he was trembling.
"You're a virgin, Dave, aren't you? Well, so was I until about a century ago. It's overrated, Dave. Too bad you have to die for it. It isn't worth it."
Dave's whole body let loose a convulsing sob. He covered his face with his hand, his shoulders sagged and he trembled. He jumped when Joe spoke.
"What the fuck's the matter with you? Hurry the shit up. We ain't got all day. Just do it like you told me you done it to all them chicks, Dave. You're always braggin' about what a fucker you are, so let's see you go to it," oe said, moving closer to the mattress and nudging him in the ribs with the rifle barrel. "And you, bitch, keep that filthy fucking mouth of yours shut or I'll put this in it to close it," he told Deborah, picking up his huge prick in his hand and waving it at her.
Dave lowered himself on to Deborah, his milk white flesh revolting her. He tried to put his mouth onto hers, but she moved her head sideways and prevented his doing so. He took her firm large breasts in his hands and squeezed them. "You're clumsy," Deborah whispered to him. He let go of her breasts as though they were five coals in his hand rather than the beautiful soft mounds of rose colored tipped flesh that they were. He contented himself with moving his sex against her soft, smooth stomach, up and down, and to Deborah's delight it did not lengthen, but seemed to shrivel back into itself. "You're no good, Dave, because you're gonna' die, you're no man, you're a coward and without watching Joe you can't even get hard," she whispered, knowing that he would soon believe what she was saying, that he was too frightened to screw her.
Deborah did not have long to speculate. He rolled off her, onto his back and cried. "I can't Joe," he sobbed, "I jest don't want to, now," he moaned, his manhood crushed, his prick limp between his legs.
"You fucking liar," Joe hissed. "You watch a good man at play, then," he said, dropping on to the mattress between Deborah's long legs. He tossed the rifle he had aside, then abruptly lifted her legs and aimed his hardened prick at the wet, pink opening between her thighs and brutally shoved it in, causing Deborah to cry out in pain and hurt. But, he kept on without stopping and shot it all the way into her and ground down hard into her unready cunt, tearing cruelly at the widestretched walls and feeling like raging fire to her cuntal lips. The pain was unbelievable to Deborah. She had screamed out with the first penetration of her tortured vagina, but the pain had become worse with each further millimeter of hardened flesh that he shoved into her. She trembled under him, moved her legs outward to position herself to move from his lancing jab into her, but only succeeded in helping him to drive more fully into her. She could feel the hard bulbous head against the top of her vagina, grinding hard into her, and at the same time his already monstrous cock was getting harder and longer within her soft yielding pussy. She moved, trying to get from under the searing pain, but he plunged at her, grabbing her soft curved buttocks and forced her toward him, then drove completely into her, hurting the small mound of her cunt when his pelvis smashed brutally against it.
Joe pushed on and on until he felt the large bulbous head of his prick slip into the wet, warm glove like enclosure deep inside her, then he left it there, waiting for her conquered little pussy to ac cept its rightful master. He remained there, grinding slowly, the large head moving inside the tight enclosure, until he felt the response that he knew would come, then he moved it out, slowly, enjoying the small involuntary grasping at his hardened prick with her vaginal walls, the moisture warming his hardness and lubricating the tightness of her. He squeezed her nice soft ass with his hands, moving her buttocks apart when he pushed in, then together when he moved slowly out of her. He found her mouth with his and kissed her lips and felt the tentative struggle that she put up, then was elated with her acceptance of his mouth. He moved her lips apart and pushed his tongue into her and down into her throat and withdrew it and moved her tongue about with his own and then she was sucking and biting on his tongue. He moved in and out of her now hot little cunt, slowly, savoring the feel of it closed so tightly about his lust-throbbing cock, shoving in deep and grinding down and then feeling her response when she lifted her body up to his, not wanting to let his plunging cock escape fully from the soft, warm confines of her aroused pussy.
Deborah shocked herself again. His initial plunge into her had hurt like hell, jolting her body with pain. But the large head slipping into her fully had caused the heat deep inside her to flare up again against her will. Then desire consumed her.
She felt his mouth searching for hers and not wanting to but being unable to resist the warm lips of him, she had accepted his tongue into her mouth, deep into her throat and then he had excited hers with the lasciviously flicking tip of his own and she had taken it and wanted to pull it deep down into her throat. Her arms closed over his back and her long legs snaked out in the air and down over his hips and she pulled him into her and cared for nothing at all but what was happening to her.
Joe's muscled back side tauntened up with every ram of his hardened pole of flesh into her tight little opening and relaxed once he was in to the hilt, then braced themselves for the withdrawal and the gathering again of the plunge back. His hard cock throbbed against the walls of her blood-warmed cunt and the pink soft flanges of it Wrapped about him tightly and securely. He gloried in the feeling of heat that increased with his every plunge into her and suddenly it bunched up in his groins and he knew that he was going to empty his load of hot semen into that warm little pussy again, but he wanted to delay, to enjoy the building and the hot pain of it. He slowed, going lazily in and out of her, but it didn't work. He had to cum and there was no holding back. He took her soft legs in his arms and bent them back over her body until they rested alongside her firm proud breasts, then rammed hotly into her tight cunt and pounded and shoved in short swift strokes and then it was there, the uncontrollable feeling that he had wanted to delay, the gripping tightness of his balls and throbbing of the blood in his long, plunging prick and he got ready to empty fully and searingly into her and suddenly, without warning, there were stars, millions of them, in clusters and separately and each of them sparkling and shining and shimmering with light bursting inside his head and a blackness closed in and there was nothing, no feeling, just vacancy and blackness.
CHAPTER FIVE
Claude stood tall above Deborah, his black face glistening with sweat, a rifle in his hand, the stock of it blood-smeared, and smiled down at her. He was standing so that the television sets glowed in the background and framed him in an eerie glow. Deborah tried to smile back at him, but Joe was still on top of her, his prick rammed into her fully, slowly shriveling, blood pouring from his head, and she couldn't. Her mind could not fathom the sudden and swift changes that were taking place about her.
Claude lifted the unconscious Joe from her and asked, "How long these white mothers been here?"
He had the rifle aimed at the white curled body of Dave.
"I don't know," Deborah said, then burst into tears, her whole body convulsing with her emotion. She sobbed out her misery for a moment, and then ashamed of herself, wiped the tears away with the backs of her hands. She was soon able to see and she looked up into the smiling face of Benjie. "He back, Miss, Claude done come back to save us," Benjie howled, his voice full of wonder and jumping up and down and the happiness showing in his large eyes. "Now we kill these white muthers!"
She got control of herself with some effort, looked at the bleeding blond head of Joe. "Is he dead?" she asked, drawing herself tightly to the protection of Claude.
"No, he's not dead. I just sort of tapped nim on the head. What happened to that poor bastard?" He wanted to know, motioning toward the balled up Dave.
Dave was laying with his legs curled up into his stomach, his arms over his head, his whole body trembling and shaking. He was sobbing and moaning and making strange sounds.
"He ... I ... he tried to have me, but he couldn't and...." Deborah tried to explain, uncertain what she should say, now concerned for the quivering white flesh of Dave.
"Well take care of that mother, don't you worry none. Which one of 'em killed Ape?" he asked Benjie.
Benjie lowered his head in shame and shook it from side to side. "I donn' know," he mumbled, his embarrassment clouding his whole being.
"Benjie went to sleep, Claude. He's only a child and he drank so much that he passed out and Ape ... well," she paused and looked at Benjie who was pleading to her with his eyes, "Well, after he passed out, Ape tried to rape me." She lied, but she could not do or say anything to injure Benjie. Of all the things that had happened to her in such a short period of time, her compassion for Benjie, stood out above them all. "And, they came in and that one," she motioned toward Dave, "slipped behind him and hit him and ... Oh, God," she cried again, pressing herself down into the protective warmth of the mattress.
"It's all right now, Baby, Claude's back, just like he said he'd be. The rest of 'em got picked up."
"We see it all on the tee vee," Benjie informed him, hovering about, more relaxed than he had been since the whole nightmare began.
"And these are the white muthers they sent to protect, you, huh?" Claude asked, not particularly of Deborah, but included Benjie in the question.
"They soldiers of de state!" Benjie informed him.
"They was gonna' kill my black ass and her too. I knowed it, Claude, but you come back."
"I knew it, and you came back, Benjie," Deborah spoke, causing Claude to laugh and Benjie to correct himself immediately.
"Claude," Deborah spoke softly, "I have to get Benjie out of here. I want to take him with me and have my mother adopt him and see if we can get him into school and let him have a life different than ... this. It's disgusting to think of a boy living in such conditions, his mother a common...." she stopped, not wanting to use the word in front of Benjie.
"She's a whore," Benjie supplied, without embarrassment.
"Not anymore, Benjie. Your mother is dead." Claude let the statement drop, slowly, his eyes searching Benjie's face for some emotion that he knew wouldn't be there.
"She be dead a long time fer me," Benjie told them, subdued and again quiet. He moved into the darkness of the room and away from them.
Neither Deborah nor Claude made a move in his direction. Claude knew that there was nothing that could be done, and Deborah didn't feel capable of movement The two of them sat silent, for a long moment, looking around them at the useless havoc that had been wreaked upon the lives of each of them present in the room.
Claude broke the silence, saying, "Benjie, let's tie these two soldiers up. Come on and help me. There's some rope in that cupboard over there." He turned off all the television sets but one, a colored set, and then went to the task of binding up the two men.
He made the incoherent Dave sit back to back with the unconscious Joe and he bound them together. Dave whimpered but did as he was told, offering no resistance what-so-ever. Joe's blood-matted head hung to the left of him. Claude examined him casually, said, "Too bad, but this muther s hardly hurt. But this one," he continued, putting his large hand on the top of Dave's head and forcing it up and back against Joe's, "He hurt bad. No stitches will ever heal his wounds. His mind done snapped."
Claude returned to the mattress and sat down alongside Deborah and suddenly she was aware of her nudeness, the whole scene overpowering her mind in slow torrents of memory and pain. She reached for the dress she had removed earlier and drew it to her. Claude stopped her, took the dress from her hands, said softly, "Don't, please. I want to look at you."
Deborah decided that it hardly mattered now whether she was clothed or not. She had been naked so long, her body had been so misused in so many ways that she was beginning to forget some of them. She just no longer cared. Claude looked at her again and talked to her. "I'm gonna' get you out of here, even if you go to the police and have them track me down. I owe it to you. I could apologize and tell you that I'm sorry that I took your virginity, but I'm not and I don't want to lie to you. I'm going to put on one of those soldier uniforms and escort you out and away as soon as it's dark, I'm give you my name and address on a piece of paper and after this is over-if it ever is-you can send the police after this black boy and he'll own up to, admit everything. I promise. But I can't do it until darkness."
"Thank you, Claude, I knew there was goodness in you after all," she said gratefully.
"You really gonna' take Benjie with you?" he asked, ignoring her expression of gratitude.
"If hell come. He wants to become a Jew. I mean he wants to find out what it's about. So do I, really. I know nothing about it. I couldn't help him when he wanted to know, but I can help him to find out. His father was a Jewish man. He has to know about his father."
Deborah paused and looked off into the distance, her gaze resting on the television set Mayhem still reined. The announcer had been replaced by a new man, but the difference was hard to discern. Deborah wondered idly if they turned them out of machines, smooth talking and unruffled un til they fully comprehended what was happening in the war-torn streets of Watts. What he was saying alarmed her, made her clutch at Claude to listen. "All the troops here are white. There were no colored guard soldiers because of the explosive situation. We don't know what the reasoning is behind this, but we understand that some colored troops will begin to arrive tomorrow. The effectiveness of the guard here is difficult to convey. All of them have acted in a way that can make each of us proud. They have used restraint and superior judgment...." And Deborah laughed and stopped listening. She wished that he could see the two that were tied together, wished that he could have been a witness to their 'strong restraint and superior judgment' But then, she knew they were exceptions, criminals really, not like the majority. All races had those.
"I'll still get you out of here as soon as darkness comes, Deborah, don't you worry none," Claude assured her.
"No. I'm past worry and beyond hope." She began to cry again softly, letting all her pent-up emotion spill out of her, and found relief in so doing.
CHAPTER SIX
Loud voices woke Deborah. She had sobbed herself to sleep and was awakened so abruptly by the loud shouting that she looked about in panic. Claude was standing naked above the two trussed up men, shouting at Joe, whose face was red and strained. He pushed against his bonds, trying to rid himself of them, shouting at Dave, who was staring straight ahead of himself, unhearing, unbothered.
"Shut your filthy mouth, white fucker, because it won't do you no good to bellow and holler. You are doomed. Even if I decide to let you five, you're gonna' be shot by your own people so you might as well shut up and save your strength."
Joe turned to look at Deborah, said, "This big black buck was gettin ready to screw you, while you was asleep. You help us get out of here. Maybe you can talk to him, make him see reason."
Deborah laughed. She felt completely rested, not knowing that she had slept only a short while, and the ridiculous idea that she would help him, in any way, seemed to her the funniest thing she had ever heard. She fell back onto the mattress, laughing hysterically, her hand on her breasts.
"Ah, you bitch...." Joe started, but stopped abruptly because Claude smashed a fish into his face.
Claude said nothing to him. Instead, he walked to the pile of clothes and ripped one of the dresses apart, then returned to where Joe and Dave were sitting and tied one piece of the material around Joe's head. He started to do the same to Dave, then said, "Shit, what's the use? He cain't see nothing anyway." He returned to Deborah and took her in his arms, she unresisting, and said, "He was telling the truth, Deborah. I was getting ready for making love to you, but I was going to wake you first."
Deborah did not answer. She felt that he somehow had the right to do as he liked with her, would anyway whether the freedom to do so was there or not. She tried to think back to his forcing of her to sex, but she couldn't It seemed like eons of time ago, another age for her. She decided that she would relax and accept the inevitable and make it easier on herself. After all, there was nothing she could do about it now.
"Where's Benjie?" she asked, not wanting him to see her taken again.
"He's asleep. Don't you hear him snoring?" Claude laughed.
Deborah listened and she did hear him, and a suspicion entered her mind. "Did he have more to drink?" She wanted to know.
"A little. It just put him to sleep, that's all. Hell recover nicely, maybe a little hangover, but that'll be all."
He sought Deborah's mouth with his and closed his thick lips over hers. He kissed her, then said, "I don't have to do any teaching this time," and placed his mouth back over hers. His lips worked against hers, moistly, and his tongue out-lined the rim of her mouth, then pushed softly and gently into her and he felt with his large pink tongue for her small one and took it and sucked at it and pushed it about her mouth, unhurriedly, and then glided down the length of her tongue and she worked hers up against his, and he pushed it on into her throat and worked it in and out of her. She responded to him against her will, enjoying the manipulations that he so expertly performed with his huge tongue. Her body began to strain against his hard muscled one, and she let herself relax even more, accepting the idea of him again, knowing that even if she did resist that her body would undoubtedly betray her as it had done before. She put her soft white hands around his neck and felt the kinky, bristly hair of him and shivered. He moved his head away from her mouth and took her firm, jutting breasts in his black hands and said, I've never seen such beauty in my life," and bent and kissed softly at the pink nipples and sucked at them, each in turn, and moved his hot mouth down onto the fullness of her breasts and Deborah looked at his dark lips working at her white breasts and moved them toward his eager lips.
She could feel her nipples involuntarily hardening and heat flared into her breasts. She pulled his head toward her and Claude did not resist her yearning. His mouth sucked and bit at her hardening nipples and his wet hot lips closed over the firmness of the white, succulent flesh that her rose tipped nipples seemed to spring from. His large muscular hands were busy on her hips, inflaming the white flesh so that it heated even his own palms.
When Deborah let a low moan escape her, he moved his mouth back to hers and lifted himself so that his long, lengthening prick lay atop her soft stomach and his black sacked balls rested in a crevice of her long legs tightly pressed together. He kissed her hotly, burning into her, thrusting his long tongue down her soft throat and his hands massaged the hardened nipples of her jutting breasts. He could feel her move under him, a ripple of excitement from her body shuddering into his. He moved his mouth to her neck and sucked in the sweet whiteness of her, then to her yearning white breasts and kissed and bit and sucked until her movements were becoming frenzied, then his mouth sought and found her round, smooth stomach and he licked at it with his tongue, and pushed his teeth against its surface and quieted the quivering there and then his head moved down, his mouth closed over the silky down at her thighs and he pushed his teeth into it, feeling the structure and the hardness of her there.
He moved her slim white legs apart without effort and his chin worked down into the wetness of her vaginal cleft, and was followed by his hot breath, and he spread her soft, hair-lined lips apart and thought he would die of enjoyment just having the closeness of her spread before him and seeing the wet pinkness of her, the small gaping secrecy of her open to his eyes and mouth and later, his black prick which would seek warm, wet haven in her tight cunt of joy.
He flicked at the soft, ragged lips with nis tongue and she shuddered and lay still, waiting, and he moved his tongue in further and traced the edges of it, completely around the small opening, then pushed it through, slowly, all the way into her cunt, and the juices flowed against it, warming the sides and the top of his tongue and he felt her clitoris pass softly over the top of it and he pushed on and heard her moan of pleasure and reached the end of ability to penetrate her and he breathed deeply of the sweetness of her and pushed the whole of his mouth to her opening and sucked gently and firmly and she moved up wildly to his face and her soft hands played about his head and his tongue went back in deep, and her legs flew around his shoulders, opening her little hole wider and he withdrew his long tongue and nibbled at her soft pink lips and moved his hot tongue to her tight little asshole and flicked it at the rubbery tissue there and poked into it and had to stop because he couldn't breathe and his heart constricted so that he would die.
He rested only a moment and his pink muscled tongue worked its way back into her hot, now pulsating cunt and shot in and out and Deborah moaned and flung herself about under him and bucked up to his face and used her hands locked behind his head to pull him ever further inside her and he was delighted that he could give her so much excitement and enjoyment and he muffled her with his whole mouth, and sucked the sweetness into his throat and worked his tongue in and out and knew that she was almost ready to cum and helped her by running his hard muscled jaws into her and against the quivering lips of her straining pussy. His pink muscle worked in and out of her in lightning strokes and she screamed an eerie cry and threw her hot cunt up at his swirling tongue and locked her legs around his black shoulders and tore at his hair and ground against him and bucked violently and groaned and then sighed heavily and let her muscles go lax and her legs rested on his back, the white softness of them burning deep into his muscles and he enjoyed every moment of it all and continued to suck the moisture of her essence into him and gathered strength from it.
Claude kissed the pink wet opening gently, then moved his head back over her magnificent flesh, kissing the pubic hair as he did so, then to her rounded soft stomach, and back to her breasts and took the little rosebuds in his mouth again and worked to harden them and they responded instantly and stood stiff against his tongue. He kissed her soft mouth and shoved his tongue inside her and liked the sweetness there and gently and firmly shoved it down her throat. He felt her soft white hands on his hard back, moving lazily up and down and feeling the muscles there, and he kissed her in appreciation.
He wanted to fuck her now, to shove his rod up to her very heart and feel the beat of it against the head of his prick. He lifted her legs apart again and put his hand over her lust-stretched little cunt and it started to close, to draw back from him, so he massaged and then used only one finger to enter her and her soft flesh closed around the intruding member and he knew that she was ready for him, for the hardness of his cock in her, so he carefully raised himself to his knees between her ivory white thighs and took his long, long hard prick in his pink palm and guided the head of it to her slit and gently worked it against the flanges of her cuntal lips and then ever so easily pushed it in and she accepted him easily and he stopped and ran his hand up and down the smoothness of her white legs and let his eyes run over her jutting and proud breasts. His own body was shaking with desire. He pushed into her, knowing that he was hurting her, but he continued on and she made not one protest, but he left off for many moments, then continued with his inward thrust, the soft head of his big cock opening and pushing the walls apart for the rest of his long, aching cock to follow. He looked at his blackness disappearing into the white mystery of her and exhaulted in the fact that he had conquered, had loved her, nobly. He continued in, stopping when she gave the slightest push against his chest, and came at last to the flood gate of her, the core of her cunt, that final opening. He rested there, then forced his cock head into the center of her, and she groaned and accepted what had to be painful to her. He ground down carefully and felt a tremor of response and continued, knowing that she was awakening deep inside to his hardened prick, and then he took it out, just over the edge of the top of her, then shoved it back, and she tightened around him and fire deep inside her met his; he withdrew all the way, leaving the head of his prick just inside the soft, hair-lined lips between her widespread thighs and started the same slow process over again.
Her straining legs moved again to his back and he lowered himself onto her and took her head in his hands and moved her hair back with his mouth and kissed her ear wetly and then touched the inside of it with his tongue and she purred like a well-fed kitten under him. He moved his hard black prick in and out of her, and the wet walls of her cunt clung to him, snugly. He loved the feeling and would have prolonged it forever had it been possible for him. But his groins tightened and he felt her stir deep within and he had to increase his rhythm and that felt good, too, and he shoved and rammed and plowed into her and hoped that he was touching her white heart with his black prick and he had to cum and she lifted herself up to him meeting every stroke or jab of his prick with an upward thrust and it was there for him, he couldn't hold back and he knew it was the same for her, so he bore in, cruelly, and forced the head into the secret and topmost part of her and ground down heavily and moved his hands to her firm white mounds and squeezed and pushed them together at her and every part of his body suddenly burned and he knew exactly when his semen left the constricture of his balls and shot through the small opening and met her own orgasm in a wild, maddening jolt that almost tore his senses from him; he bucked and plunged and pushed into her with all his might and finally collapsed onto her, his prick still hot and hard and secure inside her tight opening.
They lay together, black on white, without thinking, enjoying each other and the nearness and oneness that they felt, and the world of chaos still raged on the outside and was pictured in color on the television.
Claude spoke first, moving down deeper into her, wanting to keep the feeling of hot closeness that he so enjoyed, saying, "If it wasn't impossible, I'd tell you that I loved you, because I do."
"Impossible? To love? There is nothing else," Deborah replied, his words heating her more than the hardness of his long cock resting inside her.
"You see love in color on the big eye," he laughed. "Except it stops and turns to hate in black and white."
"It works the other way, too. If you love me it's because your hate has turned to love." Deborah moved, slightly, wanting to make herself more comfortable.
Claude withdrew from her, breaking the close contact that he had with her, tearing the both of them back to the present world and making both of them aware of the mess around them: Joe swearing at the world through the material over his head, Dave staring straight ahead, Ape dead, his long black cock laying straight out from his body, and the most pleasant sound of all coming from Benjie who still snored softly, secure in his child-innocence while the world fell apart about his shoulders.
Claude stood up.
"It's time. Darkness. A black man can glide through the night, unseen, but the daytime offers no protective covering. Get something to wear," Claude told her, helping her up from the mattress.
Deborah went to the pile of dresses that had been picked through and scattered, and she further scattered them, picking one up, looking at it critically, tossing it aside and selecting another. She chose the plainest one she could find, pulled it over her head, clutched it about her and turned back to Claude.
"Whoever took these has his sense of taste in his heels," she laughed.
"Whoever took them wanted to see his girl aglitter, sparkling in her black skin. It'll take awhile for taste," he said, slowly and softly, looking at her with his dark brooding eyes. He turned to Joe without waiting for an answer from her and tore the cloth from his head. "You see now white boy."
Joe looked around the room, blinking, and fastened his eyes on Deborah. "You fucking, nigger-loving whore!" Joe bellowed. "I heard...." he managed before Claude gave him a clot in the mouth with his fist, and felt the bones crumble with the impact of the blow. Joe passed out.
Claude untied the two of them, speaking to Deborah as though it were an every day occurrence to break a jaw: 'We gotta' get out of here fast. You wake Benjie and I'll untie these white warriors. We're gonna' hit the first floor of what's left of this store and we're gonna' stick close to the ground, like we been crawling all our lives, and I'll take you and Benjie to the crossing of the footbridge over the freeway and then you're on your own. Can you manage that?"
"What are you going to do? Aren't you coming, too?" Deborah asked, startled.
"No. Somebody's gotta' stay here and try to talk some sense into these crazy black heads before the whites split 'em all open. My job is here. I couldn't get out anyway and there's no where to go," he explained with remorse.
"That isn't right, Claude. They'll kill you. And these two things." She motioned toward the crushed Joe and the immobile Dave, "They'll have you tracked down. Please. Come with us."
"No, baby, I can't. My world's here a long way from where you live. You get Benjie out and safe, you've done more than your share. Just don't look back in anger as the man says." Claude turned away from her, stood very tall and straight, and brought his crying under control before he would let her see his face again. He swore at himself for his sentimentality.
Deborah knew that he was crying, could tell by the rigidity of his broad shoulders, the tautness of his muscles. She did not speak to him but gently woke Benjie and said to him, "Come, Benjie, it's time to go home."
"Home?" Benjie asked, his eyes wide and scared "Are it over? De through f ightin'?"
"My home-your home, Benjie. We're through fighting, almost. All we have to do is get out of here and run two blocks, maybe three. Then well be home. Come. We have to start to work immediately on your grammar, you know, Benjie. I've heard that Jews are supposed to be very bright." She laughed at her own joke, quelling her nervousness somewhat, and pushed Benjie up the stairs ahead of her.
The three of them stooped and ran along the street, through the debris of bricks and plaster and broken glass and remnants of human clothing and human blood, the rat-tat-tat-tat of machine gun fire sounding not too far away. Claude was the first at each comer, his face glistening like wet black marble, his coolness gathered securely to him, and waved and pushed them across the wide street and into the protection of a barely standing wall. "There. Twenty yards and onto the bridge. Keep down. Keep down on the bridge. Crawl if you have to, but don't put your head up over the handrail. It's too beautiful to have a hole in it," he told Deborah, his voice catching and his hand on her silky head. "But for another world and another time. GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" He literally pushed her away from him, then through a sob and at the back of Benjie, "Black boy, you take care dat white gal, ya' hear?"
Deborah crouched low and took Benjie's hand in hers and couldn't see where she was going because for some stupid reason she was crying and the tears scalded and blinded her and she ran and pulled Benjie along and then she was on the bridge and the cars sped by under her, oblivious to her and the falling world just over them, and she was more than half-way across and then three-fourths of the way and a huge light was put into her and a bullhorn blurped and then a heavy voice cut through all the other sounds and blared: "Drop right where you are." Deborah dropped just where she was, taking the trembling Benjie down with her. "We's gonna die on dis fuckin' bridge," he moaned and Deborah dug her fingers into the palm of his hand and scolded him, saying, "Benjie, if you ever use that word again I'll wash your mouth out with lye soap." She laughed at herself and then crawled across the bridge as she was ordered and she was looking straight into the bore of one machine gun and a clutch of rifles and holding them was the blue uniformed men of the Los Angeles Police Department and she fell into the arms of one of them who said in wonder, "Christ! She's white and she got through that mess." She let her long pent-up self go and cried and felt so damned happy and safe that only the wail of Benjie's voice got to her.
"You white muther...." Benjie had screamed, then the explosive sound of a slap had cut off his words.
Deborah flew at the officer who was handcuffing Benjie and hit him in the face with all the strength she had and her nails made a pattern of four red streaks down his cheek and he raised his arm to hit her and a sergeant stepped between them, said in a level and calm voice, "You're relieved of your duty, Officer Muller, and charges will be brought against you for striking this boy."
Deborah gathered the frightened Benjie in her arms and he clung to her and she refused to get into a police car. So, they sent two policemen with them to see her safely to her aunt's house. She walked through the door and cried at the safe familiarity of it, the very house she had fled from eons ago into the nightmare that she had thought would never end.
EPILOGUE
Deborah sat in the patio of her Beverly Hills home, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine fully on her, and read the paper. She put it down abruptly and spoke sharply to Benjie. "What did you just say, Benjie?"
"I says 'shit' and I says oncet mor', dat shiit," he spoke accusingly.
"I think that once might be sufficient, Benjie. I agree with you. It is...." she glanced over her shoulder to make certain that her mother was not in range of her hearing, "Pure shit." They both laughed, Benjie losing control of himself, slapping the table, then sitting abruptly straight in his chair and widening his eyes and kicking Deborah under the table, lightly, and motioning with his expressive eyes that someone was approaching.
"It's nice to see you finally laughing, Deborah," her mother said, then paused and continued "and Benjie. Such an ordeal you've been through, my darling. Laughter is the best medicine, I suppose." She turned to the white maid who had appeared seemingly from nowhere, said, "Just a glass of orange juice, May," then back to Deborah: "What do you find so screamingly funny about all that fire and blood and gore that you're reading about, Deborah? It's really more than I can understand. Really."
"Let's have Benjie read it to you from his paper, Mother. He needs the practice of reading aloud. Go ahead, Benjie, read for Mother," Deborah ordered him.
"It say here...."
"It says, Benjie," Deborah interrupted.
"You done say don't say says," he accused her, hurt showing through his voice.
"You shouldn't say done ... Oh, never mind for now. Read to Mother."
"Yes, Benjie, be a nice boy and read the funny article. Mother's glasses are upstairs."
Benjie caught the word 'Mother' and smiled slyly at Deborah, who nodded her head at him. "Well, it says here dat ... that two Guard troops have been cited for Outstanding Bravery and they is ... are to be decorated by de governor, who ain't here but is comin back," he could hardly contain himself, giggling after every other word.
"Just read it like it is, Benjie," Deborah instructed him.
"O.K. 'Capatin Henry Gallian of the Seventh Armoured Guard Division has asked that two of his men be cited for bravery, explaining that, 'Investigating the basement of a liquor store from which rifle fire was issuing, the two men entered in the face of the fire, were disarmed, their uniforms were torn from their bodies and yet they managed to outwit their adversaries and, without arms, survive, having been left for dead by a gang of tough blacks that they estimate to have numbered twenty. Their only weapon of defense, a club, had to be used, unfortunately, against one of the rioting criminals with such force that he was killed. The younger of the two men, Private David Roper of San Mateo, is still in a state of shock. Corporal Joseph Harmon, also of San Mateo, spoke for the two of them, saying, through a broken jaw and other injuries that were inflicted on nis body by the demented rioters, 'We only did our duty, that's all.' It has not been made clear what medal will be given to these two brave guardsmen, but we imagine that...."
Benjie stopped reading, looked at Deborah and said "And I say that's a crock of...." but stopped when she looked at him with a warning in her eyes and reminded him that they were not alone. Deborah's mother emptied her glass of orange juice, then told them, "I think that that is a marvelous idea. It is war, really, and their actions were ones of bravery. Deborah, I can't tell you how i felt when my sister called me and told me you had been missing for twelve hours. I thought I would die. I had just heard the news about the outbreak of the riots and she lives so close to Watts and my heart absolutely moved into my throat. I'm so glad you found Benjie and that you protected each other from harm." She smiled benignly at Benjie, "And we will, Benjie, if the courts allow it and if you will permit us, adopt you. I think that we can give you a much better life than you could ever have there, in that slum, with a mother who ... well, never mind. You are home now and well be eternally grateful to you for saving Deborah."
"You'll have to excuse me, now. Benjie, you stay and talk to mother. I must he down for a few minutes."
Deborah left the patio and went upstairs to her room. She sat on the bed and smoothed out the page of the sheet of newspaper she had taken before Benjie had joined her. She looked at the startling picture of Claude, who, even in death, looked almost noble and her tears splashed down onto the paper. She could not read the words that were said about him, but she was sure that they were not complimentary anyway. She cut the picture from the paper and tore the rest of it into small pieces and flushed it down the toilet in her own bathroom. Then she went to her desk and sat down and took a pen in her hand and wrote across the top of the newspaper picture words that were not new but ones that she never wanted to forget: BUT FOR ANOTHER WORLD AND ANOTHER TIME. She cried a long time until she was exhausted mentally and physically and eventually went to her bed and lay down upon it and slept, dreaming of Benjie's future, one that she would make for him.
She smiled in her sleep, for a dream had formed, a dream of that other world and other time.
