We often read about child abuse, and the handling of children by people who should never have become parents. We read how parents neglect children, abuse them, physically beat them, and on occasion we even read about fathers who prostitute seven-and eight-year-old daughters, often taking advantage of the girls, themselves. But what we never read about are the parents who abuse their children by keeping them totally ignorant. In this case, ignorance is not bliss, and what a girl does not know might very well hurt her.
Preventing daughters from having a full and complete sex education is probably the most common unpunished "crime" being committed by parents, today. And to mention the idea of educating their children will bring a look of horrified anguish to the faces of these foolish, unthinking parents who believe their daughters are better off not knowing such "awful" things.
As surely as not going to the doctor to check out a pain in one's own body might be a prelude to death by cancer, not educating a young girl about the whys and wherefores of her body is inviting disaster. Would parents rather have their daughters taught the facts of life in the school of hard knocks? Would they like a lecherous neighbor to explain everything? Or would they prefer an equally unknowing husband for their daughter who will "rape" her on her wedding night, turning her away from sex forever?
This book is a perfect example of what can happen to an unknowing girl. The heroine is a strong girl, and because of it survives her ordeals. But other girls might not be as fortunate. And it is with these other girls in mind that this book is presented.
-The Publisher
Chapter One
The early March evening was still nippy, and Etta knew she shouldn't be outside. It would shortly get very cold, and she might easily catch pneumonia or some such sickness. But Etta was a curious thirteen-year-old. She had always been curious, always wanting to know the whys and wherefores of everything. Ever since she'd been a little girl she had wanted to know why her body differed from that of her younger brother. Why did he have what her mother called a penis dangling from between his thighs, with a wrinkled sac containing pea-sized balls, while all she had was a hole? Why did her own breasts swell up like those of her mother, while her brother's chest remained flat, with nothing to get in the way when he played ball? Well certain things didn't have to be different, even though her mother kept trying to insist on making them so. To begin with, her own, dark-red, auburn hair was short, and not hanging down to her waist the way her mother wanted. In fact, her brother had longer hair than she, and his only came down to the nape of his neck. The poor dummy, always having to use a dryer on his hair, while all she needed was a towel.
Because her parents were so strict, Etta's upbringing had totally lacked a sex education of any kind. Though she knew males and females were constructed differently, she didn't know why. But she had an idea she might get the answers to some of her questions if she could see what went on in her parents' bedroom when they locked the door. And that was why she was out so late. She wanted to see just what was going on in there. Every night, when her daddy came home from running his small business, he took her mommy, into the bedroom, and made her oooh and ahhhh a lot. What did he do, and how did he do it?
Well tonight Etta was going to find out. Her parents' bedroom had a skylight which they never bothered covering because no one ever bothered going up on the roof. At least, no one had gone up on the roof until today, when the roofer came and started putting down new tiles. Now, in the evening, the roofer was gone for the day, but his ladder was still there because he had to finish tiling the roof, tomorrow. And Etta, seeing her father come home and guide her mother into the bedroom, decided tonight would be a good time to find out what was going on.
After putting on her heavy coat, she had gone outside and had climbed the ladder. Now, she sat curled on top of the roof, staring through the skylight at the scene below. Because she had a dark coat on, with a dark hood, she was virtually invisible against the night sky. She could even hear what was going on down there. In fact, she could hear it better than when she listened at the door.
Both parents were still fully dressed. Mort and Annie Garth, her parents, never did anything hurriedly. They liked to work their way up to everything.
Mort, a short, barrel-chested man with dark hair, was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at Annie, his plump, vivacious wife. Annie had red hair, just like Etta, and a round, cherubic face. Though short, she had big, bouncy breasts above a slightly fleshy waist, and broad, full hips. At the moment she was wearing a skirt and a tan sweater. Annie was sitting beside her husband, and her hand was rubbing his swollen rod through his pants. Etta could see the protrusion, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. After all, the only penis she had ever seen had belonged to her brother, and it was such a tiny, wormy thing. But what could her father have that was so long and rigid?
Annie moved even closer to her husband, kissing his lips lightly, feeling his prick-head twitch under the caress of her fingers as her sweatered tit rubbed against his upper arm. She was a totally sensuous woman, and when it came to matters of the flesh, Mort, who still fooled around a little on the outside, just for variety, had to admit there was no woman quite like his own wife.
"Mmmmmmm!" Annie was saying. "Just thinking about what you're going to do between my legs has me all shivery."
She pressed her body closer to his, gripping his throbbing penis all the more tightly with her fingers, fondling it with such strength, Mort thought it would tear through his pants. Her lips parted, and her tongue leaped out and stabbed into his mouth. Up above, Etta watched, wondering why her mother was using her tongue. Was that the right way for people to kiss?
Mort's fingers were busy, rolling up his wife's sweater, revealing the milky whiteness of her full-fleshed waist, underneath. He was filled with the confidence of the past, knowing what he was going to do. Yet it seemed so unreal, seeing this woman, the one he'd married, the most desirable female he had ever known, stripping down so he could shortly climb onto her and bury his heavy prick into her womanly center. It never ceased to amaze him that she was his. God! To think his aching cock would shortly be surging into her belly.
He felt a renewed palpitation of blood as it made the pulses in his temple pound, seeing her lift her arms over her head, pulling the sweater up and away from her full, pendant, swollen breasts, leaving them free to dangle in front of his eyes as if suspended from her chest by elastic bands. The huge, light pink aureole glistened like beacons before his eyes, and the bright pink nipples in their centers looked like flashing pinpoints of bursting light, inviting his mouth to cover them as they pointed themselves directly at him.
"Well, hi again," she smiled, pulling the sweater off her head. "Like what you see?" she asked, smugly, noticing his eyes were locked on her jiggling breasts.
Mort found it difficult to respond, and wisely kept his mouth shut. But his large, round eyes continued to stare.
Etta noticed the fascination her mother's body held for her father, and wondered why. Heck! Her daddy never even bothered to look at her own body. He made sure she walked around the house all covered up all the time. Heck! But he sure was making a big thing out of looking at her mother's body, and she, Etta, knew she had a much better build. Her breasts were not as large as her mother's, but they were pert, round, and starting to shape very nicely. Heck! They were a lot firmer than those jugs sported by her mother. And her own hips were rounding out, and there was just the faintest hint of down on her pelvis and under her arms.
"Yes," Annie was saying to her husband. "I can tell you like what you see." And her eyes glanced appreciatively at the bulge in his pants. She walked over to a dressing table bench across from where he was sitting on the bed, then half-turned toward him, bending over so he could see the way her breasts dangled as she put her folded sweater on the bench. She was behaving almost as if no one else was in the room with her, and she was free to do with herself as she pleased. Her reactions made him feel as if he were an outsider, peeping in on a stranger undressing in the privacy of his bedroom. His throbbing, jerking, shuddering phallus pulsated against his pants creating the impression it was as thick as his forearm as his eyes followed her sensuous movements, watching the erotic way she was stripping. Mort licked his dry lips in anticipation of what was to come. He watched her slowly turn away from him and peel down the zipper on the side of her skirt, allowing him to see another tantalizing white stripe of flesh on her nicely rounded hip. And as the skirt opened and fell, he saw the bare, graceful slope of her body along the front of her stomach into the indenture between her thighs, where curling pubic hair hid the swell of her waiting cuntlips. She turned toward him and raised her breasts, cupping them and showing them to him as she lifted them. It was as if she were admiring her own voluptuousness, and now invited him to join in the admiration. Her eyes closed as her fingers brushed her nipples, building heated passion inside her. And what she did sent thrilling tingles of shuddering sensation through him, heightening his arousal. Flames of lust spiraled through his loins. The mere sight of her nakedness was all the aphrodisiac he needed. Looking at her made him feel as if he was one huge, monstrous cock, throbbing and pulsating, anxious to be buried inside the soft, tender body of this woman now lewdly exposing her wanton, naked self to him.
Her hands wandered up and down over her torso as she sat, peeling off her stockings at a slow, agonizing pace. Her slender fingers rolled down the left stocking first, running it over her calves, then sliding it off her heel and then her toes. She did the same with the other stocking, then stood, turned, and bent over so he could see the skin stretch across her full, firm-fleshed buttocks. She wiggled from side to side, rubbing her hands along one ankle, then the other, as if massaging them, and all the while her buttocks shimmied and shook.
Mort's expanding cock was anxiously twitching in his pants as he stared hungrily at her anal crevice, and at the pink slit further back, covered by curls of red hair. Then he sighed as she turned, faced him, and let him see the richness of the red patch on her venereal mount. Her thighs were wide apart, and he could see the glistening pinkness of her dribbling vagina, the sight of her seemed to take complete control of him, hypnotizing him as it always did. Now he was frozen, watching her walk over to the bed, lie down, and gyrate her body lewdly against the covers, enjoying the control she had over him. Mort's lips felt very dry, and he ran his tongue over them repeatedly as she raised her head a few inches and peered at him between the twin mounds of her firmly upright mammaries, a licentious smile playing seductively across her white, almost innocent, beautiful face.
Christ! Annie really knew how to turn him on. Odd that he had lucked into marrying someone as beautiful as she. He had always thought of himself as a plain man. Yet she had found him attractive, had fallen in love with him, and had married him. She had been a virgin, and though he fooled around every now and again, he was willing to swear about her own fidelity. Christ! He fucked her every night, except for these five nights of the month she was "indisposed."
Annie raised herself up on her right elbow and beckoned to him, crooking her little finger at him. Like a transfixed cobra he wordlessly walked toward her, aching lust burning in his heart, making it pound like a bass drum. Each time he made love to his wife it was an entirely new experience. Nothing ever felt the same as any of the previous times. That was crazy, because those times he cheated, each time with a different woman, it always felt as it did with each of the other women. But Annie was always brand-new for him.
Etta watched her father, wondering why he was moving so strangely. Did her mother give him some LSD or make him smoke pot, first? Golly! He was sure acting like it. He seemed stoned out of his mind, and just because he was looking at her mother's naked body.
He stood against the bed, in front of her supine body, running his hungry eyes up and down the length of her white-fleshed nakedness, adoring the patch of red hair covering her mons. The bulge in his pants pulsated all the more quickly, now. Annie smiled, knowing she had him hooked. But then, she always had him hooked.
"Well, hot hubby," Annie grinned. "After all these years my cunt still turns you on, huh?" Her green eyes seemed to be shooting sparks at him.
"You got that right, sweet pussy," he replied, his voice thick with wanting. His bloodstream felt as if boiling semen was raging through it.
"Let's get that big cock out," she told him, sitting up, reaching out to undo his belt and unhook the top of his pants. Her fingers deftly unzipped him, and the trousers fell down around his ankles. "Off with the shirt," she insisted.
"Christ! That prong is strong tonight," she grinned, watching the way his thick cock jerked inside his Jockey shorts when she raked her painted nails down along his inner thighs.
Etta couldn't believe her mother and father were using such words. She'd heard them in school, though she had no idea what they meant. She stared, watching her mother bend and pull off each of her father's shoes as he obligingly raised his feet, one at a time. He removed his tee shirt, and all he had left was his underpants.
Annie reached out, hooked her fingers in the waistband, and slowly stripped the under shorts down, revealing his thick, outstanding, rampant rod. As always, she admired the length and thickness of her husband's cock. Her throaty gasp never failed to make him feel even more masculine. Though she'd never seen another cock, she and her friends often discussed their husbands and their "attributes" at mah jong meetings. And Annie knew her husband had the biggest schlong in town.
"That has to be the king of cocks," she whispered, tossing his under shorts off to the side.
"And you have the most exquisite female body in the world," he replied, never tiring of complimenting her, staring at her bouncing white breasts as she leaned forward and used them to surround his throbbing phallus.
Etta stared, unable to believe her father walked around with a poker like that between his thighs. It was immense. She couldn't believe it was really his. Do other males have something of equal length? she wondered.
Annie continued looking down at the penis she had enveloped between her swollen breasts. She clasped the pole between her heaving globes, with the tip sticking out toward her face. Her forefinger ran over the magenta head, then ran down to the corona and moved around the rim. Then the ball of her finger moved into the cleft between her tits, rubbing the topside of his shuddering wang, moving down to the hairy base, then back up to the pulsating, expanding head. Her touch sent blistering trails of fire running through every nerve-ending in her anxious body.
Mort, on sudden impulse, reached forward and filled his palms with the full, roundness of her breasts, cupping the resilient fullness of each mammary before pressing them together around the shaft of his hot, throbbing cock. Her own hand moved lower to let him do this, sliding underneath and coming up so her palm was filled with his massive testicles, squeezing them and making him gasp with delight. He humped his cock back and forth between her large tits, sawing it back and forth, savoring the heated pressure of her breasts against it. Each forward thrust let it touch the woman's neck and chin, and each time it backed away, it left another clear drop of lubricating fluid.
"Unnnhhh!" Annie groaned. "It feels good. It always feels good. It makes me so hot. I don't need any warming up. Do you want to fuck me, now?" she asked, her voice heavy with lust.
"Christ! You'd better believe it," he gasped in reply.
"Tell it to me. Let me hear the words," she insisted, moving so her full breasts massaged his throbbing penis, while her hand continued compressing around his swollen balls.
"I want to fuck you, my love," he gasped.
"Tell me, how do you want to fuck me?" she asked, her hot breath burning the flesh of his belly.
"Hard!" he snapped. "I want to fuck you hard. I want to fuck that cunt of yours until my cock reaches up into your throat."
"Christ! CHRIST!" she screamed, throwing her body back on the bed. "DO IT! FUCK ME! Fuck that hot prick of yours all the way into my hungry cunt," she ordered, drawing her knees up and then spreading them wide apart so he could see the sodden moisture wetting her full, rich, teeming vaginal lips. "I can't wait any longer. I have to have that big prick jammed all the way up inside me, rotating around in my sucking cunt. Screw that pole of yours into me."
Etta couldn't understand what it was her mother wanted. She was asking her father to screw his pole into her. But into where would he screw it? He was in no position to spiral it into her mouth. Besides, why would he want to put it into her mouth? Her ears and her nostrils, and even her belly button were too small to contain the massive ramrod. Where would he fit it into her mother?
It never occurred to Etta he might shove it into her vagina or rectum. Both were places of elimination as far as she was concerned. They were holes that let things leave her mother's body. Surely they weren't meant to take things in, as well.
Whenever he was with his wife, Mort felt as if he were watching a triple X-rated movie. He seemed to step outside himself and watch his body, the actor, perform for the benefit of his mind. Chilling, delightful thrills roared through him as he lay down beside her and roughly pulled her against him, feeling her dainty, delicate feminine body crushed in the huge, almost gorilla-like arms with which he surrounded her. His right hand slid down to cup her buttocks, grabbing one, then the other, thrilling to the smoothness of her skin. They were as beautifully shaped, and as taut now, as when he'd first married her, fifteen years earlier. Her entire body was warm, soft, and fit comfortably against him. She raised her face to his, offering him her mouth, and he pressed his lips tightly against hers, shuddering as he felt her seeking, searching hand reach down between then-bodies and tightly grip the desire-hardened stiffness of his blood-bloated cock. He pressed his head forward and hotly returned her kiss, feeling her lips yield to the powerful pressure of his mouth. Then she rubbed her pubis against him, and he twisted her until she rolled over onto her back and he could mount her. All the time his mouth remained tightly cemented to hers as she parted her thighs very wide to take him into her.
Annie crushed Mort solidly into her and trickled both hands over his body, reaching into his groin and exploring him with his fingers. His licentiously trembling penis was resting solidly against her inner thighs, the tip of it stretching to press into the tight, narrow, hair lined crevice between her puffy vaginal labia. Annie arched her back for the moment, lifting the two of them off the bed. Her hand reached down and around, coming up from under her buttocks, and her fingers stretched, reaching up to part her labia, opening them so his throbbing penile head could make better contact with her wet, inner flesh. It slowly began moving through soft, curling strands of hair, but instead of sliding into her, it moved up along her vaginal slit, and soon the full length of it seemed encased between her inner labia. Now she relaxed and let her body fall back onto the bed, keeping his stolid poker tightly trapped between her clutching, pressing thighs.
Mort's hands ran between the mattress and his wife's back, letting his fingers trickle down her back, feeling the ridges of her spine and the curves in her flesh. He could feel all of her imperceptibly moving, responding to what he was doing to her. He made her undulate and writhe her body against him in a slow, tensing, excruciating rhythm. The cords in her thighs stretched and tautened, rippling lightly under the soft, white skin pressing against him. Mort was already remembering the many times they had clung to one another with her thighs encircling his body, drawing him even more deeply into her. It would happen again, now.
"Mmmmmm!" Annie sighed. "Your wonderful cock feels so nice resting against my pussy," she told him, then pressed her lips tightly into contact against his, breathing heatedly into his mouth as their tongues once again worked together. She wriggled the flatness of her belly against him, trailing her nails across his back, leaving white streaks that would shortly turn into red welts. Mort shoved his hands farther beneath her, gripping the round, soft fullness of her wonderful asscheeks, tugging on them, making her thighs open even wider.
Etta watched, fascinated, seeing her father move slowly up and down, pressing his solid prick deeper and deeper into Annie's hot, wide-open slit, sensing it become wetter and wetter with each passing moment. Her loins began desperately revolving until her thighs suddenly whipped out on either side of him, then closed tightly around him, her calves locked against his buttocks as she tugged him all the more tightly against him.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," Annie chanted, sucking his tongue as her eyes shut tightly, and her pelvis continued grinding beneath him.
Mort wanted to reach down, grab his cock, and stuff it into his wife's cunt, but she moved even faster than he, her hands moving down between them, grasping his pulsating whang, and guiding the flexing head between her wet, hair-surrounded lips of her wantonly aroused cunt. Mort groaned while on top of her, feeling her quim-walls squeeze his shuddering glans as it poked into her, little by little. The soft, curling red hair tickled the sensitive flesh of his cock-staff, making it solidify into even greater hardness until it trembled with excruciating pressure.
Mort could no longer restrain himself. She was teasing him too much with her slowness. Taking a deep breath, he slammed his hips forward, and with a sudden, almost unexpected, maddening thrust, sank his eager, aching cock into the wide, hot, gaping cavity of her seething cunt, filling her with flesh-splitting force.
"Ohhhhh!" she moaned under him as he felt the warm, elastic tension of her vagina wetly slip over his sensitive, naked, penile flesh. His hard cock entered the resisting flesh of her clutching cunt feeling such tightness, he would have sworn she was a virgin being fucked for the first time. Her control over her vaginal muscles was fantastic, making her inner tunnel feel so tight, he thought his cock was being crushed. This was another reason why he revered his wife, and felt as if entering her each time was a totally new experience.
Etta stared, still unable to comprehend why her mother was enjoying what her father was doing to her. If anything, something like that looked very, very painful. She could hear the gasps coming from her mother's open mouth and recognized them as the sounds she heard when listening outside the door. Etta had to admit it all looked interesting, but it didn't seem like something she might be overanxious to try.
Mort's thick, long shaft was riding deeper and deeper into the tight tunnel of his delighted wife. Inside, her passageway clutched his throbbing cock, making it feel warm and tight. His cock ached and shuddered, feeling the tightness within slowly surrender to his thickness. Little by little her warm, wet, inner walls began accustoming themselves to his length and thickness as they always did, molding themselves to the shape of his lancing probe. And as he slowly began pulling back, he could feel a gradual easing of her inner clamping as lubrication seeped from her cuntal walls and smoothed the way.
He rammed in again, and this time he hit bottom. His come-filled testicles slapped solidly against the full, rounded, shimmering cheeks of her ass. Mort felt as if his entire body was inside his cock, and all of him was buried in his wife's tight, crushing, seething cunt.
Etta stared, wide-eyed, watching her parents writhe and gasp like insane animals. Obviously there was more to what was happening than what she could see. Watching them, she did feel all kinds of funny sensations starting to build in her. She didn't know what these feelings were, but she felt she would be able to understand them better if she could more clearly see what was happening. So she pressed her face down against the thick glass of the skylight, and stared.
Annie grunted and gasped, sounding like a writhing animal under the wicked plunges of her fucking husband. She tried twisting to momentarily ease the pressure of his hugeness inside her, but her movements only made him stab into her with greater strength. His pelvis rammed against hers, and she knew there was no escape. She was shish-kebab all the way on his thrusting cock. He lay still above her for the moment, thrilling to the way his soaking cock marinated in the heavy juices in her crushing vagina, while rings of tightly clasping inner muscles crushed his throbbing pole. Her vaginal muscles gripped him so tightly, she knew if she moved at this moment she would feel pain. She had seduced him, as she always did, starting out trying to gain and keep the upper hand. But now, with his thrusting meat locked inside her, control of the situation seemed to pass from her to him. If he chose, he could hurt her, and there was nothing she could do in return. She realized he was feeling the age-old power of masculine domination, and she could see by the way his eyes glittered that he relished the feeling as he held his wife helpless. Her body was skewered beneath his as he flexed the throbbing head of his cock again and again, making her sigh and yelp.
"Uhhhhh ... it's ... uhhhhh ... so-o-o-o bigggg!" she gasped, then gritted her teeth together.
Mort ground his arching pelvis solidly into the soft, writhing flesh beneath him as she strained away from him, digging her heels into the mattress so she could lift her thighs, hoisting him up with her, as well. She continued moaning and sighing, feeling her body totally trapped under his, tightening and loosening her thigh-muscles as she slowly worked her asscheeks up and down, her breath panting in a rhythm which Eve's must have made when Adam fucked into her. Annie's mouth hung slackly open, her head flailing from side to side, banging against the mattress in wild, sensuous abandon.
"Uhhhhhh!" she cried out. "It's so painfully good. It hurts, but so delightfully. Your finger. Push your finger in my rectum. Make me scream and yell for more," she gasped, her voice hoarse with licentious ravings.
Etta stared, amazed her mother and father could do such things to one another. Her mother seemed to be in pain, yet she was begging for more, and Etta saw the way her father was willing to oblige his wife. They must be crazy. Who would enjoy hurting and being hurt unless they were crazy?
Annie felt her husband's hand reach underneath, moving between her buttocks as his hard cock continued pushing into her tender pussy. His fingers stretched her asscheeks apart, using his forefinger to run up and down her ass crack until he found the tiny, dime-sized asshole. Annie felt oil seeping from her cunt, running into her anal crevice, leaking against her asshole. The warm, trickling moisture made her writhe all the more, as she felt his finger moistening its tip in the slippery fluid. Then she felt the point of his forefinger start probing against her rectal orifice. When he had it pressed properly against the hole inside the sphincter, he pressed, feeling the outer, rubbery ring of muscle yield as she relaxed it to the best of her ability. Little by little it surrendered to the pressure of his finger, and Annie felt the digit slowly slide in up to the first knuckle. She jumped up against him, hugging him, moving against him rapidly as if attempting to escape the penetration of his probing finger.
"Unnnnhhhh!" she gasped. "It hurts, it hurts!"
She felt her husband's mouth crush solidly against her lips, preventing moans from escaping as he thrust his finger all the deeper into her narrow rectum, moving in to the second knuckle, causing her to writhe even more.
In spite of her obvious agony, Annie began screwing her ass back against his probing finger until her fleshy cheeks were flatly pressed against the palm of his hand. She felt the finger rotating slowly inside her, moving around and around, and little by little, her anal interior began stretching, as it always did. And through the nerve-endings in the thin wall separating her anal tube from her vaginal interior, she could feel the way the underside of his hardened cock rubbed against the bottom of his finger as the two seemed to run in and out of her together, in the same rhythm. Her asshole felt mercilessly widened. She followed his rhythm, parting her thighs all the more widely, allowing him even greater access to the interior corridors of her stretched body.
Annie could feel her husband's cock still expanding and broadening within her body until it felt as if it were going to burst with the exquisite sensations her rippling channel was causing to run through his throbbing cock, all the way down into his twitching balls. She could feel all of him stiffening, as if his entire body were filled with semen, waiting to be jetted into her. But she knew he would wait until she had attained her own satisfaction. One of the advantages of being married to someone for so long was knowing how the other partner would react, and when the other partner would react. She knew Mort would be able to restrain himself just long enough for her to come. And she could tell from her own interior sensations her orgasm was close, very close. It wouldn't be long before he was shooting his reservoir of hot spunk into her broiling depths, and she could tell he wasn't too far from his own satisfaction by the way he was cramming his cock into her, with long, hard strokes, at the same time knifing his finger deeper and more solidly into her heated, absorbing rectum, thereby exciting her that much more.
Annie felt herself getting closer and closer, gripping Mort all the more tightly between her full, rounded thighs, tightening them more and more as her ass bounced in time to his long hard thrusts. His tongue, lancing into her throat, turned her anxious moans to gurgles.
"Unnnggghhh!" she gasped, her head falling away from his. "Fuck it into me. Yes, yes, yes, fuck ... fuck ... harder ... harder ... HARDER ..." she kept on repeating, and in between, she mumbled obscenities her daughter's straining ears could barely hear. Etta watched her mother's heels pound on her father's rump, urging him on, making him pound his prick all the more deeply into her aching, feeling body.
Annie's thighs clutched Mort more and more tightly. They clung tenaciously to him even as his arms swept them back, raising the plane of her open pussy so he was fucking straight down into it, pounding his cock into her creaming cunt with all his might. His groin battered against hers, and his tight, drawn-up balls could no longer touch her body, but they continued shaking in their protective sac as her eyes rolled up in her head, and passion contorted her face as she strained toward that final, ultimate explosion. Flames of delight went off in her burning belly.
"I'm going ... uhhhhh ... to come ..." she gasped, her mouth widely gaping like that of a guppy. "Uhhh ... yesssss ... ohhhhh ... yesssss ..." she sighed, her voice hissing longer and louder as she strained toward her orgasm. It was moving up through her upper loins, creeping toward her rocking pelvis. She tugged her rounded thighs back even more, until the entire of her pink open slit was presented to him for him to beat, pound, and wallop as his body wished. Her ankles locked into the small of his back as her seething cunt writhed in shuddering, mad abandon.
Her voice was a mixture of squeals and gasps, and her shouted words trailed off into incoherent sounds. First there was a mass of low, unintelligible sounds, and then she began screaming like a wailing banshee as Mort started shooting his spunk into her. The sizzling streams of sperm slammed into her cervix as she jumped and wailed, her voice completely drowning out the "YYYAAARRRGGGHHH!" her husband yelled.
Etta stared, mesmerized. It was all so unbelievable. Her parents were screaming and yelling, as she'd often heard when listening at their bedroom door, but now, seeing why they were screaming and yelling, she felt her senses reel. This was all so incredible and hard to accept. Why did they do all this if they felt so much pain. It had to be pain, otherwise why would they both be screaming and yelling as they were doing.
None of it made sense to Etta as she watched her parents writhe together, their eyes shut, their arms tightly clinging to one another. Her father's finger had slid from her mother's asshole, and the two were continuing to squirm against one another. Etta could see the upturned plane of her mother's wide-open cunt as her father continued to stab his cock down into it. She could also see the white, foaming substance leaking out around her father's penis, dribbling down her mother's asscheeks. She knew it had to be some kind of substance coming from her father's member, but she had no idea what it was, or why he was pumping it into her mother. Now the wriggling and writhing was no longer something agonized, but something of total bliss, and Etta was able to recognize the ecstasy her parents were feeling, though she had no idea why they had to go through so much pain to reach this wonderful physical state.
Confused, she knew it was time for her to leave before her mother's eyes could focus and see her pressing her face against the skylight. And so she moved down toward the ladder, and from there, climbed down off the roof.
Reaching the ground, she first realized how cold it was outside, and she was about to hurry inside when she realized a man was standing in front of her. He was a tall, skinny man, with almost feminine features. He had jet-black hair, sunken eyes, sunken cheeks, and what looked like an anal rictus for a mouth.
Edgar Brummer, her neighbor, was known as Brummer the Rummer. He was mean, really mean, and now, Etta trembled when he asked, "And just what sights were you seeing, Miss Garth?"
Chapter Two
According to Etta's father, Edgar Brummer had lived his entire life in this little community. He had been born here, had gone to school here, and, at one time or another, had finked on all his classmates. He was as old as her father, approximately forty, and he was despised by everyone in town. He was the one who had voted against bringing large department stores into town, and since he had inherited leadership of the town council from his father, his word had virtually been law. Not that he was highly regarded, but he did own controlling interests in almost all the town stores, being the local banker. So the large department stores and shopping centers had gone to all the other communities, and as a result, the community in which Etta lived was now second-rate.
Brummer was the kind of man who took advantage of every hold he could get on other people. He knew they despised him for the miserable, skinny bastard he was, and so he despised them, as well. He loved foreclosing mortgages, taking homes and businesses away, and then re-selling them at impossibly high rates to unsuspecting newcomers, many of whom would eventually be forced out, as well. The police backed him up because what he did was legal, but they, like everyone else, hated him.
"Spying, Miss Garth?" Brummer smirked. "I wonder what your parents would say if they found out what you were doing. I know you were looking into their bedroom. I also have a skylight over my own bedroom, so I know that was the room you were looking into. And what did you see?"
"None of your business," Etta told him.
"Ah. I see, you're one of those fresh brats who needs to be put in her place. Very well, Miss Garth, let's go tell your parents what you were doing."
"I'll say it isn't so," Etta snapped. "I'll tell them you're the one who's lying."
"Ah, then they'll ask what you were doing outside at this time of night. And what will you tell them?"
"None of your business," Etta snapped.
"Well then, let's go and tell them, shall we?"
He began walking toward her front door, and Etta knew he would do just that. Her parents would then know she was spying on them, and they would be very, very angry with her. She had no idea what kind of punishment they would mete out to her, but it wouldn't be something easy.
"Wait!" Etta called out to him. "Wait!"
"Ah, so you've changed your mind, eh? Well, can you think of any reason why I shouldn't speak to your parents?"
"No," she whimpered, realizing she had nothing to say.
"But suppose I refrain from talking to them. Can I expect you to do whatever I wish?"
"Yes," she nodded, not knowing what was transpiring in his demented mind.
"I'm a reasonable man, Miss Garth. Suppose you and I discuss the terms of my silence tomorrow afternoon, after you've finished with your classes. I want you to go home, take a shower, and then come to my house at precisely three-thirty."
"All right," Etta nodded, mumbling. "I'll be there."
"Excellent," he smiled. "I shall meet you there at that time."
Chapter Three
"I'm glad to see you're on time," Brummer said, letting Etta into his house.
She was surprised he was still living in this small house. As the town banker she would have thought he'd be living in a mansion with a lot of servants. But he was a stingy man and didn't believe in spending a cent when he didn't have to. A woman came in and did his house cleaning and laundering once a week. He paid her the munificent sum of thirty dollars for the day's work, and felt he was getting off much more cheaply than if he'd had to "buy" a wife.
"What do you want from me?" she asked, as he shut the door and took her coat, hanging it up in the nearby closet.
"Everything," he said, matter-of-factly.
"What do you mean?" she asked, as he ushered her past his den and living rooms into his private study. Once they were in there, he shut and locked the door.
Etta noticed the soundproofed tile on the ceiling. Even the walls seemed to be made from sound-absorbing material, except for one wall which was against another room.
"You watched what your parents were doing last night," he told her.
"Yes," she finally admitted.
"Did they enjoy it?" he wanted to know.
"Yes," she nodded. "They seemed to like it very much, though I thought my mother was in pain for a while."
"Oh, you mean facial expressions and possibly shouting?" he asked. "That wasn't pain, dear girl. That was ecstasy. Sheer bliss. Believe me, she enjoyed every bit of it."
"How would you know?" Etta asked. "You've never spied on them."
"True," Brummer nodded. "But your parents are no different from most of the people in this world. You see, I collect all kinds of things showing just such happenings."
He pressed a button, and the untilled wall slid back, and a light went on in the next room. Brummer ushered Etta into the room, and there, on the walls, were all kinds of painting and photographs depicting all kinds of sexual scenes. The ceiling had one huge fresco on it showing a Roman orgy and all that went on there, including the use of little girls and boys.
Etta was stunned by the sight of it all. Brummer had hit her with it all at once, suddenly letting her know her parents weren't the only people to take advantage of the fact that their bodies were different from one another.
"I'm showing all this to you for a reason," Brummer told her. "I don't want you to think what I want from you is something other women haven't given to other men."
"What?" Etta asked, suddenly beginning to understand what it was the skinny, repulsive man wanted from her.
"You and I will eventually imitate almost every scene you see in this room," he told her. "Unless you want me to go and tell your parents how you spied on them, last night."
"You can tell them whatever you'd like," Etta gasped. "Right now, there's no way on earth you can prove I was outside last night."
"I was afraid of this," Brummer sighed.
He walked over to the desk in his den, opened a drawer, and took out some eight by ten glossies. He handed them to Etta. The pictures, he had shot with infra-red film and infra-red light, clearly showed her on top of her roof, and then climbing down the ladder.
"Gosh! Where'd you get these?" Etta gasped, staring at them.
"I took them," he told her. "Photography is a hobby of mine. And I can easily show them to your parents at any time. The idea that you were on the roof at night with your face pressed against the skylight will be enough evidence for your parents. Now, shall I show them these pictures, or do we come to terms?"
"Stop talking that way," Etta said, shivering. She could see the edge of craziness lighting up his eyes as he took in her young, girlish body with his eyes. His stare frightened her, and she went to the thermal window and looked out at the hedge separating his land from that of her father's.
"Etta, I want you to do exactly as I say," Brummer insisted. "If you do, your parents will never see these pictures."
"Why me?" she asked, terrified. "You could probably talk some grown-up woman into doing something like this for you."
"They all despise me," Brummer snapped. "The only women I could get would be paid whores."
"What are 'whores'?" Etta asked.
"Women who fuck for a living," Brummer explained. "You know, women who do what your mother did with your father, only they'll do it for any man if there's enough money. But I don't want a whore. I don't want a woman who's been with other men. God only knows what kind of diseases they carry. You see, Etta. That's an advantage each of us has with the other. Neither of us can give the other a venereal disease. You'll learn all about such things, because I'm going to teach you."
"But you said you've never been with ..."
"True," he nodded. "But we'll each learn with one another. I intend keeping you with me as long as it pleases me, you see."
Looking at the photos and paintings in Brummer's hidden room, Etta shuddered. She didn't want, to expose her body to this evil man, nor did she care to look at his nakedness.
Edgar Brummer touched Etta's knee with his fingers as he stood next to her. Then he ran his hand up and down her girlish thigh, still covered by her red skirt. Etta felt tiny goose pimples suddenly jump out all over her flesh, and she tensed, doing her best to move away from the man. But it was no use. His moving fingers clutched her thigh like claws digging into the flesh of a helpless rabbit. She felt the pain his fingertips were causing with the strength he was applying. For all his being skinny, Edgar Brummer was deceptively strong.
"Please," she whimpered. "Please, please, let go of me."
But even as he spoke, his free hand touched a button on his desk, and two separate hidden videotape cameras started working. Brummer was a cautious man, and he knew the photos would be enough to gain him what he wanted this one time. But Etta might not like what he'd done to her, and she wouldn't care if he showed her parents the photos. He needed something stronger with which to permanently tie her to him. And once he had her naked before the videotape cameras, she was his for as long as her body pleased him.
Etta shivered, knowing lust was building higher and higher in the man's mind. But the pictures of herself on the roof were still in her hand, and she knew Brummer had duplicates of these photos. She could feel his eyes burning through her clothing like X-rays, and as he pressed his thighs against her buttocks she realized he had a hard, thick extension between his legs. And from what she had seen the previous night, she knew he was aching to make it shrink by putting it into the groove between her own young thighs. But she was afraid, terrified.
"I want you, Etta," he whispered. "I want you very much."
"There has to be another way," she gasped. "Oh, please, please, tell me there's another way."
"Someday soon you'll learn to love it," he told her. "Not only that, but you'll love me as much as you hate me now. You'll be aching to come here and gratify me, and be gratified by me. And one day, one day I'll refuse to have anything to do with you, and you'll be even sorrier than you think you feel, now."
"No," Etta sobbed, tears starting to fall down her cheeks. "That will never happen. You're a mean man, Mr. Brummer. I could never learn to like you."
"Like me?" he smiled, evilly. "You'll do more than like me. You'll love and adore me. You'll see. You'll be begging to do whatever I want, and that's the day I'll throw you out."
"Throw me out now," she said.
"Don't be ridiculous," he laughed. "You and I are going to do just what you saw your mother and father doing last night. We're going to do it today. God! I've had the hots for you ever since hair started growing on that head of yours, twelve years ago. I knew you'd grow up to be a beauty. But I had no idea just how I would be able to convince you to see things my way. Last night was a very fortunate accident for me."
His arms wrapped around her waist from behind, and he pulled her close, burying his face in her hair.
"NOOOOOO!" she shouted, trying to squirm free.
He held her tightly, and she stared down at the way his hand was clutching her leg. A feeling of total helplessness washed through her shuddering torso. She felt as if she were a sapling being bent by a powerful wind, letting her know it would whip her to its way of doing things.
Looking through the window, she realized it was suddenly very dark out. The wind was whipping up, and snow flurries were starting to come down.
"I have to go home," she gasped. "A snowstorm is coming."
"Good," he smiled. "That way, no one will disturb us."
Etta pulled free and ran for the door, but found it was locked. He began moving toward her, and she backed away from him, slamming into the desk, knocking over piles of paper he had on top.
Brummer's hands, reaching for her arms, suddenly came down on her young, full, growing breasts.
"I'm glad you're so young," he told her, squeezing her nipples. "It'll give me a chance to break you in my way, the right way."
"If I had to wait for a woman who would enjoy my touch right from the beginning, I'd die a virgin," he told her. "I'm forty years old, and I figure it's time for me to really do something physical. I've lucked into you, Etta, and eventually you're going to like what I'll do to you, no matter how long it takes. I'm a patient man."
Suddenly he was picking her up, lifting all four feet nine inches of her and carrying her into his hidden room, and the wall closed behind him. There was a huge bed in there, big enough to sleep ten people. It took up two thirds of the room, and he was carrying her kicking, screaming, writhing body toward the bed. He dumped her onto it, and she sank into the old-fashioned down-filled mattress. Before she could move, he was on top of her.
"Mr. Brummer, please, please, let go of me," she begged as his skinny hands reached out and gripped her shoulders.
Her commanding tone of voice made her pleading words sound ridiculous to Brummer. Besides, he had no intention of letting her go. He was too far gone with sexual frustration to bother paying attention to her. He all but lay on top of her, pressing his slight weight against her young body, slowly undoing her white blouse. She struggled, but it was to no avail. He had the blouse open and he was pulling it off her shoulders, sliding it down her arms, yanking it from her body. He flung it off to the side, then reached around, unhooked her bra, and removed it, as well. Her lush, youthful, white breasts were revealed to his hungering eyes.
Etta slid out from under him as he attempted to grab her breasts. She was up on her feet, against the wall, looking for some way out of this room with all the pictures and paintings. There was no window in this room, and the lighting was indirect, coming from fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling, but Etta could hear the wind blowing against the house, and knew the storm outside was as bad as the one inside her. Even as she tried avoiding Brummer's touch, Etta felt all hot and bothered with her naked breasts wobbling from side to side as she moved. There were mirrors placed strategically around the room, and she could see her naked breasts, with their jutting pink nipples and silver-dollar-sized roseate, and she realized she did have a nice body in spite of her youth. If her father was so aroused at the sight of her mother's nakedness, she could imagine how much more aroused Edgar Brummer was at the sight of her wobbling tits.
Grabbing a corner of the bedcovers, Etta tugged them up to cover her bare breasts, and as Brummer moved closer, she snapped, "Don't you dare, Mr. Brummer. Don't you dare!"
The man was angry, and she could hear him panting as he came closer. He reached out, grabbed one of her slender wrists, and tugged it away from her body with a brutal ease that made her understand how much stronger he was than she. Her other hand fell away, and her breasts once again bounced free before his sex-starved eyes. He was grunting and salivating as he stared at her rounded flesh-mounds. He noted how consistently pink her nipples and aureole looked, going perfectly with her red hair.
He stepped forward with a bestial savagery, wrapping one of his slender arms around the terrified girl's narrow waist and squeezing, forcing her to bend back, away from him. Etta screamed out her terror, but Brummer just laughed, knowing no one could hear her, while only the videotape cameras could see the two of them. Etta pulled her head away from his as he reached out, trying to kiss her, and she found her head pressing against the wall. Her body was pinned between the skinny torso of Brummer and the soundproofed wall, bent as far back as she could to escape his slavering lips. Her harvest-moon-shaped youthful breasts bobbed up and down, naked and without restraint, tilted up toward Brummer's drooling mouth. Then she felt pain as his mouth clamped onto her left breast, his teeth sinking into her youthful flesh as his tongue licked her nipple, and his lips sucked her aureole. She felt his teeth biting cruelly into her breast, making her young, pink nipple swell like a bullet as he rolled the edges of his teeth around them.
Etta was frantic and struggled with all her might, but her anguished writhing only seemed to excite the lust-incited Brummer that much more. He was grinding his narrow, skinny hips against the front of her body, pressing into her red skirt, wrinkling it. She could feel the hard stiffness of his throbbing cock and knew it had to be huge. She wondered how such a skinny little man could sport such an immense penis.
She felt her head being forced farther and farther back now as his mouth moved up to her throat and began kissing her there. Her naked breasts tilted upward and pressed into his shirt as she stared at the softly lit ceiling, watching the animalism of the men in the paintings as they raped the women with them. She could feel her heaving breasts rubbing against the cloth of his shirt, and one nipple was still swollen and hot, wet from the drying saliva coating it.
"Christ!" Brummer gasped. "I've been waiting for you for so long, Etta. I knew, the moment I first saw you, you would grow up to be a beautiful girl. I dreamed about fucking you ever since I saw you toddling on spindly legs."
"You're sick," Etta gasped.
"Yes," he nodded. "I'm sick. How would you be if you grew up with no friends? How would you feel if everyone turned away from you just because you were a skinny kid? I fixed them. I fixed them all. They'll all have cause to remember me one way or another. But you, Etta. You didn't grow up with me. You showed how much you despised me even while you were a little girl. And as a result, I was determined to get to you, too. But I didn't realize how much you fascinated me at the time. Now I know, and now I know I have to fuck you until you stop fascinating me. I have to fuck you until I can discard you the way I have discarded all those people whose mortgages I've foreclosed. You're mine, Etta. Whether or not you like it, you're mine."
Etta realized he was insane with lust. She had to do something to snap him out of this, or he would really hurt her.
"Mr. Brummer," she screamed, "STOP! STOP! Don't you realize nothing can protect you if you hurt me? I'm just a little girl."
"A little girl," he laughed, roaring contemptuously. "With a body like this, how can you call yourself a little girl? Yes, I know your breasts are not full-grown, but they're so firm, so soft, so nicely rounded."
Etta stood against the wall, her naked-to-the-waist body trembling as he stepped away from her for a moment. Her small, firm, rounded breasts bobbled up and down as she breathed heavily, and she knew the sight of them, moving as they did, seemed to be inciting him. She had to stop her breasts from moving. She had to stop breathing. Maybe that would do it.
Taking a deep breath, she realized her breasts were thrust straight out toward him, but they were no longer hobbling up and down as she held the air in her lungs. Golly! He was a really crazy man. His eyes were shining with something, but it wasn't alcohol. Brummer wasn't a drinking man. She had to make him realize how much she hated all this. It wasn't as if she was his wife, or something like that. He was the town banker, and he was treating her like one of those women he had mentioned ... what did he call them? Whores? Yes, that was it. He was treating her like a whore, a woman who let men use her body for money.
"Please ... Mr. Brummer ... please ... I won't say a word to anyone. Not to anyone. Just let me get dressed and get out of here. I'm your next-door neighbor, remember? I'm Etta Garth. Come on, Mr. Brummer, let me go ..."
And that was as far as she got. Her speaking had started her breasts wobbling again. He charged for her, and she tried ducking out of the way. His hand reached out, caught her wrist, and when she pulled, he let go, letting her spin across the room and onto the bed. The breath whooshed out of her, and for a moment, all she could do was lie there.
Brummer was on her in an instant. His hands were on her shoulders, and they began squeezing, pressing, digging into her flesh and bone. He pressed his left palm against her back, forcing her to remain lying face-down, while his right hand found the zipper on her skirt, undid it, and began pulling it down. He pulled hard, and if the cloth had not been so strong, he would have ripped her skirt as he tugged it from her belly as it lay flat against the bed. He managed to pull the skirt off and dropped it on the floor, then yanked off her shoes and socks, leaving her with only her bikini panties on.
His hand roamed over her panty-clad asscheeks for a moment, then he whispered, "From now on, when you come here, come without panties." And he tore them from her body, throwing them off to the side, leaving her body totally naked. Her bare body was pinned helplessly against the huge bed, the rough cloth of the covers rubbing against the ultra-sensitive lengths of her young nipples, already enlarged from the way Brummer had manhandled them. She could hear him breathing heavily against her neck, and knew his ungovernable passion was mounting and growing even higher. She could feel the aching wildness in his blood as it surged into his steel-solid shaft that rubbed so fiercely against her through his clothing she was afraid he would rip her skin off.
From where she lay on the bed, Etta looked up and could see Brummer's face in one of the mirrors. She stared at the way his eyes seemed glued to her white, sensitive, young back. His mouth was drooling as his hands wandered over the creamy whiteness of her tender flesh, feeling its growing fullness. His hands stopped at the swells of her asscheeks as his eyes wandered down to gaze at them. To him, they were two ripe, succulent mounds of trembling flesh.
Etta heard the licentious growls of hunger coming from Brummer's throat as his hand reached out and tangled its fingers in her short, red hair. He lifted her head from the bed, making her back arch, causing her asscheeks to develop two tiny indentations that made them appear to shimmer even more. She could see the twisted smile on Brummer's face as he stared down at the helpless way he had her pinned to the bed. She had to push her own hands between her breasts and the covers to ease the scraping of her nipples against the cloth.
"Owwwww!" she squealed, long and loud. "Owwww! You're ... UHHHH ... hurting me. Ooooooh!"
It was a gasping cry because Etta could no longer stand the way his fingers tugged her hair. She had to make him release her hair. Her body pressed more firmly into the bed, with her breasts being crammed against the palms of her hands, and her nipples digging into them.
Brummer stared down, all but totally hypnotized by the rounded mounds of her asscheeks. He stared at the dark seam separating them. He watched the way they quivered and shook as Etta thrashed around, hoping his fingers would ease their grip on her hair. He loved watching the way her gluteal cheeks tensed, then loosened, tensed, then loosened. Damn! It was really a wild thing to see. Christ! It was a sight he'd always wanted to enjoy, but he'd never had a woman before. God! He almost felt ashamed, not ever having been laid in all these years. Well he would make up for it. He would really make up for it. Etta was young meat. She was the first. He had a plan, and if he could win Etta to his way of thinking, his plan would work on lots of other teenage girls.
Etta realized the man was insane with power. He was treating her as if she were some kind of slave, debasing her, making her feel all the worse for the way in which he was doing things. He was on the side of her, kneeling above her naked self, forcing his hand between her tightly clenched thighs. Little by little he was making them open while his other hand continued holding onto her flaming red hair. And when he finally had her thighs open enough, he began forcing his middle finger against the puffiness of her vaginal lips. She struggled and trembled and shook, writhing to escape the probing madness of his finger. And then she felt the finger roughly pressing between her labial slices, pulling them open, digging into the tender pink flesh, and she screamed, "NO, NO, NO!"
"Yes, yes, YES," he bellowed back, and she felt his middle finger worming its way into her tight, unused vaginal channel.
"Mr. Brummer, Mr. Brummer, it hurts!" she screamed.
"Only for a moment more," he assured her. "This will be the worst part of it. And after this, the pain will be much less."
Etta didn't know what he was talking about, but she did know he was hurting her, and she didn't want to be hurt. She struggled, trying to pull her away from his grasping fingers. She wriggled, trying to clamp her thighs together, but it was too late. His finger was roughly pushing its way into her. He pushed relentlessly, ramming his long, middle finger deeper and deeper into her tight, soggy vagina. And then she felt excruciating pain as the finger touched her hymen. He wasted no time, pushing deeper, working his finger around, literally tearing the membrane, ripping and tugging on it until he had shredded it, literally pulling pieces of it out of her.
Oh, n-o-o-o-o-o!" she screamed as his finger continued working in and out of her sopping pussy.
And then, just like that, his finger was out of her. She turned around on the bed and saw the bloodstained covers where her virginal flow had dripped on it. Then she looked up and saw him leering at her as his hands literally tore his shirt from his body, the buttons making little popping noises as they leaped from the material and fell to the carpet.
Etta got to her knees, moving away from the bloodstain, crossing her arms over her breasts. Her red hair glistened wildly with fluorescent tones bouncing off, and she looked like a bawd to the hungry man. He stared at the way her arms crossed over her breasts, making the small, round mammaries seem even more voluptuous than they were. They seemed to swell into small, arousing balloons of delight.
"Mr. Brummer!" Etta screamed. "I'm Etta, from next door. I'm just a young girl. Don't you understand?"
She shrank away from him now, cowering into the far corner of the bed, near the headboard, looking around, hoping to find a way out of this room. She had to get out of here. He was crazy.
Brummer threw off his shirt now, panting heavily, feeling his body soaked in sweat brought on by his hungering desire for this young, redheaded girl. He grinned at her, an evil grin as he dropped his pants, kicking them off to the side. He enjoyed watching the way she trembled and shook before him, as if he were some kind of god. He loved the way she was clamping her thighs together at the moment, her sparse, fuzzy red pussy hair was wedged nice and tight at the juncture of her cringing vagina, and her breasts were swelled up like inflated balloons as she attempted to hide them. He laughed aloud as he saw the haloes of her pink nipples rising like two tiny suns against her white flesh, over her protecting arms.
"I'll scream!" she told him. "I'll scream my lungs out. You just have to stop it, Mr. Brummer. You have to."
She watched him standing there, legs spread apart, thumbs hooked in the waistband of his under shorts, as he said, "Go on and scream your lungs out. Scream and scream and scream. No one will hear you. Even if there wasn't a windy snow storm outside, no sound can penetrate these sound-proofed walls."
He took a step forward, then slowly lowered his under shorts. It took him a few seconds to get it over his throbbing erection, but when he finally did so, his shorts fell to his ankles and he stepped right out of them.
"I'm glad you followed my instructions and showered before you came here," he told her. "You smell good. I showered, too. It wouldn't be right of me to stick an unwashed cock into you, would it?"
To Etta, it seemed so huge. She knew it was neither as long nor as thick as her father's, yet this close, it did seem immense. It seemed so massively solid, so rigidly strong.
Etta's hand flew to her mouth as she saw the full immensity of the massive cock. How was it possible for such a skinny man to sport such a thick member? It pulsated so menacingly in the soft, diffused light. Heavy veins moved like worms along its thick, round shaft, carrying more and more hot, pulsing blood to the already licentiously bloated head; a head that bulged a rich, ripe, plum-colored red. His spreading penile point looked like a hooded cobra as it shone in the indirect light with the smooth-swelling shaft behind it. His arcing solidity hung rigidly away from his body, pointing in her direction as if she was the one responsible for its condition.
Etta stared at the way his hair-covered, wrinkled scrotum dangled beneath his thrust-out cock, resembling nothing less than a helmeted soldier about to do battle. She could see how ridiculous the rest of him looked, but the menace of his cock kept her from laughing. His ribs were pressing against his flesh, and she could see the outline of each one of them. Both his arms and his legs looked like pipe cleaner extensions. Brummer hardly looked like a fantastic physical specimen, but his cock was really something to behold. Had Etta been knowing about such things, she would have thought of it as a cock that wouldn't quit. But all she thought of now was the terror it was bringing her. And that was what Brummer wanted to do. In his youth he had been very sickly. He had even had to bring bananas with him to school and eat them in the back of the classroom, knowing his classmates were sniggering at him. Well no one had sniggered at him for years now. Now it was his turn to do the sniggering. All the pretty girls had avoided him. Now he had trapped a very pretty girl and, soon, with her help, he would trap many, many others.
With a roar of carnal hunger, Brummer was suddenly on the bed, grabbing for the girl's nakedly defenseless body. She went sprawling across the pillows, and then he was on top of her. Had he been a heavy man, he would have knocked all the breath out of her. As it was, his weight caused a funny sensation to travel through the network of nerve-endings in his body. It spread from her tingling vagina into her belly, and up to her boobs.
Etta screamed, and screamed again. And then her cries were cut off as Brummer's mouth clamped itself to hers, literally sucking her full, sensuous lips, actually bruising them as he ground his mouth as his teeth against her lips. His tongue snaked its way hotly into her young mouth and she fought to catch her breath, thinking she would choke if his tongue sank any deeper into her mouth. And all the while she felt the long, hot pulsations of his cock as it rubbed against her aching belly.
She sobbed and cried as he forced her tender young thighs apart, wickedly rubbing and bruising the sensitive inner flesh of her smooth loins. He continued forcing her thighs apart, pushing them wider and wider until the muscle cords stood out like cream-colored steel cables all along her upper thighs. With what little strength she had left, she pulled her mouth from his and gasped, "Mr. Brummer, I'm just a kid! Please! Please! Don't DO this to me!"
He didn't bother replying with words. Instead, he slammed his open palm against her cheek, and Etta felt her face rocking with numbness. She cried and sobbed, gasping for breath, hoping he might hit her hard enough to bring her unconsciousness.
With a high-pitched squeal, he shifted his weight and seized Etta's two wrists, forcing them up, over her head, where he could hold them in place with one hand. She felt his hard cock rubbing its heated head up and down, moving spasmodically against the pink tenderness of her waiting vagina. Fear made her vaginal lips tense up. Terrified, she shut her eyes and tightly contracted her vaginal muscles in an effort to prevent his brutal penetration. He thrust forward, slowly, but insistently, applying more and more pressure between her juicy thighs, until the pain became unbearable.
"No, no, NO, ohhhhhh, n-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o ..." she screamed as his thick, insistent cockhead suddenly plunged forward, spreading her tightened vaginal lips, forcing them to reluctantly part by the sheer strength of his attack. Brummer looked down between their nakedly joined bodies, and his exciting, pulsating penis remained poised, its tip halfway into her, the deep red color of the glans becoming stronger and stronger as it throbbed with the blood forcing its way into it. Brummer smiled, seeing the way his swollen prick-head was covered by her wide-stretched, hair-lined cuntlips. Even now, he could feel the reluctance in the parting of her cuntlips as they pulsated, hoping to come back together. He had her virginal cunt opened, and nothing would stop him from nailing himself into her.
Her complete vaginal tract was trembling with pain and fright as he lanced his licentiously swollen cock forward again. Her vaginal slices parted even more widely, folding inwardly as if bowing to the will of his spearing cock. He pushed harder, spreading her young labia even wider apart, forcing her clitoris to peer from behind the membrane hiding it. It didn't tremblingly peep out, but stood out stalwartly, proud, erect, stiff in its own erotic valley.
Etta heard him laughing with glee, knowing he was entering her a little at a time. Each time he thrust his hips forward, Etta cried out in agony, as his penetrating prick, like a redwood trunk, slowly stretched her all the more widely as it disappeared into the hot, clutching, seething depths of her cuntal interior.
Etta felt her shuddering loins being spread even wider apart, and she cried out in distress, whimpering, wondering how her mother could ever enjoy such attacks by her father. The strong stabs of his solid, attacking cock as it moved further and further into her tormented cunt, forced her trembling buttocks to squeeze together as her legs jerked up in the air.
"Once more," he told her, "and I'll be all the way in."
Etta realized further pleading would be totally useless. Maybe if she did what her mother had done it might ease the pain. She wrapped her thighs around his buttocks, and as he pushed, she also thrust forward, feeling him fill her taut cunt with his swollen cock. She could feel his dangling balls slap her asscheeks, and suddenly she felt something other than the pain. Not that the pain had gone. It was still there, but in addition to the pain there was an indefinable something which she couldn't describe.
"Now," he told her, "the fun really begins."
He started ramming his meat in and out of her with strength belying his frail appearance, brutally and wantonly fucking in an out of her tight little ravaged cunt, pounding heedlessly away, intent on enjoying his own first vagina. His wetly glistening cock slammed in and out, in and out.
Her neighbor's pronging was insane and merciless, and his hands were running all over her young, teenage body as he pinched and massaged her quivering nipples. His fingers dug so deeply into her breasts, he was leaving all kinds of red marks. And Etta simply lay there, letting him have his way with her. There was no way she could halt this rape, and though her mind was on the edge of an hysterical breakdown, she kept herself from going over by consoling her mind with the thought that this, too, would end. Golly! Once this was over she was getting out of here and never coming back again, no matter what he told her parents. Each savage thrust was hurting the ravaged little ex-virgin a little less, pounding into her shamed body as he rammed and crammed his massive, throbbing solidity into her again and again. She could feel the rubbery head of his hard cock banging into her cervix, making her wince with each forward thrust. He was so avid in the way he was fucking her, each thrust was sending her body partially across the bed, moving her an inch at a time. Soon he had her head against the bed's headboard, and each forward plunge made her head slam against the wood.
Etta lay there, neither struggling nor pleading at this point. She knew voiced protests were utterly futile. This evil man was doing something to her she didn't want him to do, and he was glorying in it. She felt his arms digging into her flesh like wicked talons as he spasmed forward with his tongue hanging out.
Thrills were slowly, very slowly starting to build in Etta's body. At first she was barely conscious of the shattering sensations working through her nervous system. Then, after awhile, when the pain had all but totally faded away, she became aware of the powerful flashes building in her. Now, without meaning to, she began raising and lowering her body, responding to his thrusts.
"Yes, that's it," Brummer told her. "Keep moving like that. Again, again, again, yes, yes, thatta girl. Now you've got it. Fuck that body of yours up. You can feel it. I can tell, you can feel it."
He pounded his long, strong dick into her with greater strokes now, and Etta responded wildly, feeling the insane sensations throbbing in her loins. She didn't know why, but she was enjoying the overpowering thrills, even though she hated this man. She was continuing to enjoy it, and raised her body even higher now.
"Uhhhh ... yesssss ... more, more, more ... I want it ... I want it ... fuck me, fuck me, FUCK MEEEEEE!!!"
She was screaming hysterically now, but it wasn't from pain. Now she could feel the tingling sensations she had seen building in her mother, and when she looked straight up at the ceiling, she realized the fresco had been painted into a mirror, and she could see her own body being ravished along with those of the other females, there. Her face had a grimace on it, much like the "pained" expression her mother had worn the previous evening, only now she realized the lines and creases were not being caused by pain or anguish. No, no, no, it was the reaching out for more of the thrilling sensations in her body that made her screw up her features as she was doing. It was these same sensations that caused her mother to make these faces.
"Oh, yes!" she gasped. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Give it to me! Please, please, give it to me. I need it, I NEED IT!"
"I knew you'd love it," Brummer exulted. "I just knew it! Jesus! You have such a great cunt. Oh, Goddddd!"
He was gasping and groaning, increasing the power behind each stroke. His pelvis smacked loudly against the sucking lips of her shrieking vagina as his long, thick, cock rammed far up into the seething recess of her aching belly. Again and again he rammed his throbbing penis into her violated pussy.
"I can feel it!" Etta screamed. "Oh Mr. Brummer, I can feel it ... AAAAHHHH ... OHHHHHH! AAARRRGGGHHH! EEEYYYAAAGGGHHH!"
She came wildly, thrashing madly on his thrusting cock like an impaled shark. Her cunt felt the shock of a hundred explosions as she came, then came again.
"Yes, yes, YES!" he exulted. "Yes! Now me! NOW MEEEEEE!"
He felt he was about to reach his pinnacle and grabbed her under her knees, shoving her widespread thighs up and back until her kneecaps touched her shoulders. Soon, he had her thighs so far back, her kneecaps were on either side of her head. Her taut, squeezing little cunt was now totally exposed to the thrusts of his hard cock. He ground his stiff prod as far up into her wetly opened vagina as it would go, building rousing groans of lasciviousness from his throat as her lips locked themselves tightly against his. Only this time Etta's arms were around his neck, holding his mouth into place as her tongue stabbed into his oral cave. His hands reached down and filled themselves with her buttocks, holding them in a death grip, and his aching balls could no longer stand the pain.
Now! This had to be the moment! Now!
"UUUUMMMMPHHHHH!" he gasped into her mouth as his body began spurting the heavy load of cream it had saved up for so many years. He fired blast after blast into her tight, squeezing pussy, and in never-ending blasts he continued unloading all his body had to offer.
Etta thrilled to the heated bullets squirting into her tender body, making her wriggle and shudder with delightful sensations she had never realized could exist. Little by little she felt herself floating down from the orgasmic summit she had unwillingly striven to reach. Thrills and joy built on tingling sensations, and little by little she felt herself floating back to earth.
When she was finally conscious of everything, she felt a coolness in her vagina, and she realized Brummer had pulled out of her.
"Well now," he was gasping, lying beside her. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"You could've been nicer about it," Etta pouted. "I mean, you could've kind of let me know how good it was, and you wouldn't've had to force me."
"Dear girl, mere words cannot convey the sensations you just enjoyed," he told her. "Nothing I could have said would have brought you around to my way of thinking. I had to do it this way, the first time. In the future I think you'll be more agreeable."
"What's to stop me from doing this with other boys?" she asked.
"Only their lack of consideration," he told her, sitting up. "You see, what you and I did is start the possible beginnings of a baby, unless I wash you out. And no other boy would have ever thought to do that for you. Not that I'm such a nice man. But I want you available for more fucking, and completely unpregnant."
Chapter Four
That night, Etta slept more soundly than she could recall. And when she awoke the next morning, there was the slightest dull throb between her thighs to remind her it hadn't been a dream. Yet in spite of how good she felt, she despised Edgar Brummer. He had caused her so much pain on top of fright and of fear before making her feel good, she would never forgive him.
It was Friday, and school ended early. She knew Brummer expected her over and she debated whether or not to go. After all, even if she didn't go, she couldn't see Brummer showing the picture of herself on the ladder to her mother. And even if he was dumb enough to do that, it would only mean being permanently cut off from her. No, Brummer wasn't foolish enough to do that. But by the same token, such a photo wasn't strong enough to make her go through the tortures he had put her through the previous day. She could walk into his house and snap her fingers at him and tell him they'd fuck if it pleased her.
The sun that did come out soon melted all the snow, and after going home, she took another shower, then decided she would go and talk to be unpleasant.
Etta smiled, knowing she was the one who could be unpleasant. But this time she decided to wait until after he'd satisfied her. He would also be physically weaker at that time. She was hot, very hot, and now, standing next to Brummer, she suddenly realized how hot. She led the way into his den, waited while he opened the wall leading to his secret room, then hurriedly undressed.
This time there was no warm-up. No fingering of her cunt, no playing with her tits. She was as hot as he and anxious to feel his pole slithering into her. And though her cunt was just as tight as it had been the previous day, it was so juicy, his hot, thick cock slid right up into her. Her short, shapely legs tilted back at a forty-five degree angle, her knees pressing against her chest, pounding against the firmly swelling mounds of her rounded tits.
Brummer was half on his knees and half arched off the bed with one foot on the floor, one knee on the bed, and his palms supporting her asscheeks as he rode his cock pulsatingly into the simmering depths of her frothing cunt. His swollen dork stretched apart her hungry vaginal lips as he flexed the thick head of his phallus far up into her, letting the head once again press against her cervix. Only this time Etta didn't cry or whimper or beg him to stop. This time Etta responded by bouncing her hips, making him smile as he tightened his own ass muscles and jerked the heated, bulging point of his cock as far into the sucking wetness of her cunt as he was able to go. Etta moaned and sighed as he made his rigidly throbbing thickness swell inside her. The young girl gasped in delighted pleasure as his mighty weapon probed her interior passage, once again exploring where, so far, only if had gone. Shrill gasps escaped from her lips as the man continued a powerful rotation of his cock inside her, making her inner cunt swell and become accustomed to his thickness. He pushed his pelvis tight against her wetly shining cunt hairs, continually grinding his cock into her simmering depths. Her still-trembling vaginal walls expanded until her hot, wet snatch fit around his swollen dork as if it had been custom-designed to contain him.
Brummer had his videotape cameras working again. The previous night, he had lain in his bed and watched the taped results of the previous day, and the sight had built him to newer and higher flaming desires. Now the videotapes were more than an instrument of blackmail. They would be used to arouse him should he ever feel lethargic. In fact, he shortly intended letting Etta see herself being fucked, knowing it would arouse her all the more.
The naked teenager's soft, white, glowing skin shone translucently, making her resemble a marble Galatea suddenly come to life. Her small, full, softly fleshed breasts were two alabaster hills capped with rosy aureole, each of which was centered by a rich, pink nipple. The nipples swelled and became even larger each time Brummer thrust his long, swollen cock far into the hungry, sucking scabbard between Etta's widespread thighs. Her eyes were shut, and her lips pulled back to reveal her white teeth. Lines distorted her face with bliss as she thrilled to the delicious torment of his solidly broad phallus pounding in and out of her tight vagina.
Brummer still couldn't believe how he had lucked into this. Christ! All his life he had played the sniveling coward, stabbing people the only way he could, with money, making them hate him all the more. Now, when he finally allowed himself to commit a truly heinous crime, the girl was reveling in it, making him glad he'd done it, but more, making her glad, as well.
Etta felt the man's sweaty palms running over her naked flesh again and again, and lusted for more of his touch. She felt his fingers lewdly skim across her moon shaped asscheeks. His fingers tickled her asshole, then slid between her hair-lined vaginal lips as they tightly clutched his thrusting cock. She jumped, each time he rubbed the ball of his finger against the outer muscle of her anus. She could tell he was about to do to her what her father had done to her mother. He was going to finger her asshole, and though she realized there might be some small initial pain, she knew the pleasure following would make the pain well worth feeling. She had seen the way her mother had writhed and wriggled when her father had plunged a forefinger into her rectum. Now Etta prepared her body to feel the thrust of Brummer's carefully manicured finger.
Her asscheeks bounced up and down and shivered with delight as she felt him press the ball of his finger against her anus and thrust. Because she was forcing herself to relax, she felt the finger penetrate her sphincter with what felt like a pop! Little by little it worked its way through her tight nether ring, worming its way deeper and deeper into her rectum. It moved around, rotating, expanding the narrow rear passageway, pushing deeper and deeper until the entire length of finger was pressing into the channel and the palm of his hand lay flat against her asscheeks.
Etta shuddered, grinding her small, girlish hips. She liked it in spite of the irritating way it had probed into her. Yes, she liked it a lot, and as he moved his finger in a corkscrewing manner, she could feel new tingles invading her rectal passageway as the inner nerve-endings responded to the pressure of his rotating manual digit. Her asshole clutched his finger as if it had suckers inside, clinging to it in the hope it would never leave her. She felt hotter now than she had the previous day, and realized, with a certain amount of delight, that her body was tuned to enjoy each fucking session even more than any previous session. There was a certain amount of hot bloodedness in her, inherited from both sides of her family, of which she was unaware at that moment. Later, she would read her family history and discover why she-and later her brother-always felt such heat stirring in their bodies.
She felt Brummer rhythmically fuck in and out of her body with both his cock and his finger, stretching her moist pussy and dry asshole, pounding mercilessly into her, battering her wriggling body solidly against the downy mattress of the oversized bed. His thrusting penis distended her sweet, tight pussy, while his plunging finger continued ravaging her anal tunnel. His fingering was driving her wild with maddening internal thrills, making her clench her vaginal walls all the more tightly around Brummer's thrusting cock.
Etta also found all this hard to believe. It might have been the least bit more believable had she been with almost any other man she knew. That she was doing this with the most despised man in the village, and loving it, really had her head spinning. She was beginning to understand how these whores Brummer had mentioned could make a living with their bodies, giving themselves for money. In a way, the whores had a distinct advantage over Etta, aside from the money aspect. They might not have had any love for the men fucking them, but they could respond more easily because the men were non-entities. Edgar Brummer was far from a non-entity. In spite of the good feelings he gave her, and in spite of the need she now felt for him, Etta still despised the man for being the cruel, harsh individual he was. Nothing about him had changed. He was still the same, vicious, cruel person he'd always been, despite the slight softening of his attitude toward her. Yes, Etta could fuck for him and still hate him, and so she began learning early in life a girl need not love a man to have him fuck her.
Etta was enjoying every delicious second of this, her second fuck, as her craving body let her know just how much she needed cock. It was the most satisfying, delectable sensation she had ever known, her blood boiling with ecstasy as the long, stiff, masculine prick shoved itself deeper and deeper into her craving belly. This was the way she would always like it; a big, hard, thick cock ramming relentlessly and mercilessly into her. She had certain unmatured masochistic instincts, and the way Brummer was fucking her was bringing these instincts out. She loved lying flat on her back this way, responding to the thrusts of the man's hips by raising her own loins, but otherwise making him do all the work. How delightful to be totally naked and feel absolutely shameless at what this man was doing to her.
The obscene young girl opened her pretty green eyes and stared at the blank face of the man hovering over her. She lifted her head a bit and stared down between their bodies, holding her thighs back near her ears with her hands. She stared down between her hobbling breasts and saw the long, hard shaft of his thrusting cock, glistening with her vaginal secretions, as it tightly slid in and out of her upturned pussy. A shivering chill charged along her spine each time he plunged his hips forward, slamming the thick, gleaming pole into the heated humidity of her tightly clutching vagina. His cock seemed to stand out more and more as the rest of him became a blur, and this made the sensations all the more enjoyable. She needed his cock, and not being able to see his face made it that much better, because she no longer associated the hard cock she needed with the evil face of the man fucking her. This made her realize how easily she could do this with almost any man, provided she remembered to take the proper precautions afterward, so she wouldn't have a baby start growing inside her. Brummer had shown her the right way to douche, making much of the way she raised her hips and inserted the bone attached to the douche bag. Her mother had a similar bag at home, and Etta was sure she could use it and put it away without anyone becoming the wiser.
Fevered rapture soon reached a mind-blistering peak.
"YES! YES! YES!" she screamed. "Don't stop! Just keep doing it."
"Doing ... uhhhhh ... what?" Brummer asked, teasing her as he kept stroking into her.
With no embarrassment whatsoever, Etta said, "Fuck me ... fuck me ... KEEP FUCKING MEEEEE ..."
She grunted her words into the softly lit room, rotating her bare buttocks against his thrusting finger all the faster, trying to keep pace with the rapid way his monstrous pole continued sinking into her seething depths, lancing into her as if she were some hunk of great meat meant for skewering. She felt the long, hard cock pound deeper and deeper into her trembling belly as it pounded with a wild, frenetic tempo.
He was stroking into her so quickly, it was impossible for Etta to keep pace with him. And she could tell Brummer was ready to come, just as she could feel her own sensations rising. It felt so good, so good.
Brummer realized the girl could sense the urgency in him. One look at her pure, innocent face, lustfully writhing under him, and he could tell she was as close to satisfaction as he. Etta felt him start fast, ramming thrusts, burying his pounding, swollen cock right up to the balls with every one of his lancing charges. Faster and faster his cock pounded, ramming far up into her gasping, heated little belly, and all his muscles tensed as perspiration dripped from his chest and thighs. He fucked even faster, not able to feel how fast he was going as his muscles seemed to move automatically.
"Uhhhhh ... no, no, no, not yet, don't ... uhhhhh ... come yet ..." Etta begged. "Hold off ... just a bit longerrrr ..." she cried, realizing all the pleading in the world wasn't going to stop this man from expending his load into her.
Brummer's lips opened, and loud, panting gasps issued forth from his mouth, and then he took a deep breath, and groaned out a loud, "UUUNNNGGGHHHUUUGGGHHH!"
His sperm-bloated balls anguishedly pumped blast after blast of hot come-juice deep into the young girl's quivering cunt. The redheaded Etta ground her frantically wriggling loins tightly against his pubis hoping the squeezing of her inner lips could cut off the flow of semen, but the tighter she squeezed, the more she milked him. Her cunt was eager to drink his flowing sap, and pulled on it until she felt him starting to shrink. And then, at the last second, her own peak arrived, and she screamed, "YIIIIIEEEAAAGGGHHH!" as she pulled every drop of his bubbling seed into her passion-enlarged cunt, feeling the heated pools slosh around inside her.
Brummer, feeling his soaked cock shrink until it oozed out of the girl's tight cunt, eased himself off the still writhing teenager as the lightly bearded pink labia of her vagina reluctantly let go of their escaping prize. A thin line of white stickiness momentarily dangled from the tip of his retreating phallic worm before it fell onto her white, smooth thigh.
Etta lay quietly looking at Brummer as he got to his feet and opened the wall leading to his den. A carafe of cold water sat on his desk, and he poured two glasses, bringing one to Etta, then drinking the other, himself.
"Should I douche right now?" she asked.
"You can wait up to two hours, but no longer," he told her. "And I think I have more use for you, so just relax."
"Still acting like a big boss, huh," Etta said. "Well it so happens, Mr. Smarty Brummer, from now on, if we do anything, it's because I say so, not you. Gee, you must think that picture you have of me on the roof scares me. Well it doesn't scare me anymore, because if you show it to my folks, you know you won't have me to fuck anymore. So from now on, I'm the one who says what we'll do and when we do it. And if I want to go douche right now, I'll go douche. So there."
"Etta, Etta, will you never learn?" Brummer asked. "Do you think I will ever let you get the upper hand? You're just a very young teenage girl, while I'm a man, forty years old, and I know more tricks than a pretty thing like yourself will ever learn. So you just relax on that bed and I'll show you why you're going to continue doing exactly as I say."
Curious, Etta did as he instructed, especially since he was threatening no physical violence. She felt she could wait to see just how he intended regaining control over her.
Brummer pressed a button, and a screen came down from the ceiling at the far end of the room. He pressed another button and a wall panel slid back. Then he pressed a third button and the room lights went out. The dark only lasted for a moment as Brummer pressed a last button, and the videotape playback machine had its image reflected onto the large screen. And what Etta saw shocked her.
Brummer had spent part of the night re-recording the two tapes onto a single tape, intercutting so Etta could see herself being fucked from two different angles. She also noted Brummer had somehow managed to blur out his face, so it was impossible to tell who was fucking her, but her own face was very clear.
"I have stills of these tapes," his voice whispered, and she realized he was close to her, on the bed. "I could easily send some of these, anonymously of course, to your parents. And I could send one or two to the local newspaper, and I could even have some photos scattered in that school of yours. Etta, my sweet young love, don't try to get cute with me. I have you by your short and curlies, as lovely as they are."
Etta lay quietly, seething inside, realizing he had trapped her again. What was more, she was certain he had filmed or taped their most recent escapade, and would probably continue doing so.
"Just enjoy the movie as I did last night," he told her. "It's just the thing to get us both back in the mood for more."
It angered Etta to realize he was right, once again. The sight of herself being blatantly fucked was very arousing. She could see Brummer stretched out beside her, his cock lying uselessly against his widespread thighs. Her full, small, rounded breasts rose and fell rapidly as she watched, gasping for breath to fill her passion-heated lungs. Undiluted rapture was seething its way through her young body, turmoiling through her vagina, a scorching kiln of newly aroused animal lust, building and demanding satisfaction.
Without any conscious effort, as if in a dream, as if she were all alone with no one else nearby, her hands slowly began crawling down the flat expanse of her stomach, attracted as if by magnetism to the fuzzy little vee between her thighs. The moving fingertips of both hands brushed lightly and delicately over the puffy hot lips of her wetly aroused pussy, and electrical excitement seemed to bolt its way through her body as she began caressing the tenderly sensitive outer and inner folds. One outstretched middle finger slipped inside the semen-drenched opening as if moving of its own volition. Etta could feel the soft, moist walls automatically close around the tantalizing digital invader, hungrily sucking at anything that might come inside and fill the narrow void. Her finger worked in and out as she watched the cock on the screen plunge into the image of herself again and again.
"Gosh!" she gasped. "I don't know why, but just looking at what you did to me has me so hot, I feel like crawling up the wall. Oh Golly!"
And then she felt Brummer moving on the bed, and she eased her hand away from her cunt as she looked at him. He had moved to the end of the bed, blocking her view of the screen, still totally in the raw, his growing cock dangling between his thighs. He moved closer and closer to her, his cock continuing to grow until it was once again the menacing baton she had twice felt thrust into her tiny, delicate cunt. And the sight of it made her even hotter than ever. He towered over her in the darkness like some slender tower, but her eyes were riveted to his cock, the head of which was already shining with its own secretions as it stood out from his hair-coated loins. As she stared, it continued swelling and thickening, enlarging with pulsating movements as the desire for her filled him.
"Etta, in this house you don't ever have to play with yourself," he told her. "I have all the prick you'll ever need. And if I can't supply it myself, I'll bring along someone else who can fulfill your every wish ... at least until I tire of you."
Etta wondered if Brummer would ever tire of her. It was possible, since many men seemed to tire of their women, after awhile. That was why the divorce rate was so high. Etta didn't have to know anything about sex to know that. But would Brummer ever tire of his first lay?
"You've been a bad girl, Etta," he told her. "You have to receive some kind of punishment," he whispered, and she felt an apprehensive chill shudder through her.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, starting to tremble.
"Teach you a little lesson," he smiled. "It won't be too painful, and when it's all over, you'll feel as good as when my cock finished shooting into you those other times. Now be a good girl and roll over and onto your belly."
Obediently, Etta rolled onto her belly, feeling a sticky trail of semen run down her thigh onto the covers. She lay silently on her stomach waiting for his next order. Although she wasn't sure what it was he had in mind, she was certain it had to do with his fucking her again. She remembered seeing two dogs in this position once, and had wondered what it was they were doing. Now she knew. She wondered if she could feel him penetrate her vagina more deeply in this position.
"Up on your knees," he insisted, impatiently grabbing her hips and pulling her up.
She came up willingly, then remained in that position, with her head lower than her bobbing asscheeks, waving the moons of her buttocks in front of him as one would wave a red flag before a maddened bull. In the dim light given off by the projected image on the screen, Brummer could see the moistly pouting lips of her dripping vagina puckered in erotic invitation as she leaned forward, resting her head on a pillow. Her soft, round, full-fleshed buttocks jutted toward him, totally unguarded and being offered to him to use as he saw fit.
Etta's eyes were red, glazed with the excitement of being ravished again, and her heart quickened its beat at the thrilling prospect of feeling his solid wang once again embedded deeply between the trembling tight walls of her seething vagina.
And then her dreamlike anticipation was completely shattered as she felt the digging, pushing, and probing of Brummer's totally erect phallus against her ass ... not at the hot, wet lips of her anxious cunt, but at the pucker of her asshole.
Uncertain, as yet, as to what he intended, she shook her trembling asscheeks back at him, feeling the blunted knob of his cock thrust of her asshole.
"Not there, oh, God! Please Mr. Brummer, not there."
"It's time you called me Edgar," he told her, his voice totally unemotional, ignoring her pleas.
Etta was certain his aim had been off, and he was really trying for her vagina, so she wasn't overly-worried at the moment. But when he continued trying to press his thick, rounded cock against her sphincter, she said, "You know you're too big for me back there. I'll never be able to take it. Please, Edgar."
Brummer refused to reply. But in the fleeting instant before searing pain completely dulled her mind, Etta thought she heard a silly giggle from behind her. His only other response was instantaneous, and direct. With a loud grunt, he rammed his skinny thighs forward, increasing the already intolerable pressure against her tightly closed anal pucker. She fought to keep him out, but his hands gripped her hips and pulled her relentlessly toward him as his stiff cock pushed, pushed, pushed, and then she felt the doughnut of her sphincter slowly start to widen, bending inward. And then his hotly pulsating wang slowly, painfully, excruciatingly began invading her narrow rectal corridor. He lunged, and suddenly the head was in. He shoved again, and with more wicked pain she felt half the pole stretch her interior as it forced its way in. Half the length of his thrusting cock was now buried in the tightness of her squeezing asshole.
Etta wanted to pull forward, away from the painful anguish.
"Edgarrrr!" she screamed. "Edgar, you're killing me. Stop! For heaven's sake, don't do this to meeee!!"
"No way," Brummer told her. "God! Your asshole is tighter than your cunt, and I'm going to fuck it, sweetie."
He laughed lasciviously and gripped the fleshy part of her hips, holding onto them like a couple of handles, forcing her thrashing buttocks against his thighs as, with all his power, grunting with pain himself because of the tightness of her asshole, he crammed his massive cock in to the hilt. Her warm, dry, rubbery anal passage clung to his throbbing penis as his heavy balls swung forward and battered themselves against the fleshy lips of her seething cunt. The hair on his scrotum tickled her inner pink vaginal flesh while his swollen dork was mercilessly rotating inside the tightness of her asshole, widening it.
His hands had such a tight grip on her hips, it was impossible to pull away. The agony became more acute and more powerful as she heard him gasp, "Remember, Etta. I am the boss. I, and no one else. My word is law in this room. Nothing you can do or say will ever change that."
It was as if he had rammed a thick baseball bat into her anus, shoving it far up into her tight colon. Her stomach tightened, and for a brief moment the redheaded girl felt nausea.
"No more," she begged. "Oh Edgar, please, please, no more no more. I can't take this. Ohhhhhh, gosh!"
But Brummer ignored her words, driving his phallus even deeper, widening her colon, making her writhe with pain. He was enjoying the tight feeling of her bowels surrounding his cock, and he wanted more of it.
"I'll do whatever you want," she screeched. "You're the boss. Yes, yes, whatever you say."
"And when I tell you to suck my cock, you'll do that, too, won't you," he grunted, moving his hard phallus back just a little, then ploughing it right back in.
"Oh yes, yes," she screeched. "I will, I will."
But Brummer had deafened himself to her pleas. He knew her asshole would widen enough to take his cock, and eventually she would enjoy this, too. Hell! If the whores could take it, so could this one, His widened eyes stared with lust at the way his throbbing cock rammed itself back and forth inside her asshole, coming as far back as the corona, letting the throbbing tip flex against the tight, muscle-bands of her rectum, then slowly moving forward into her, pushing it in, inch by excruciating inch until the long, hot stem was lodged all the way inside her fiery, constricted passageway. The sensation was undeniably delightful, as far as he was concerned. As if driven by devils, he rammed his phallus into the rubbery, clutching depths of her colon again and again, his entire torso shuddering with the unabated raging of his unnatural desire.
And as Brummer had believed, Etta now began feeling the change take place in her anus. Something wild, wonderful and weird was taking place. A transformation was occurring in her bowels, and the barbarous, uncivilized attack was changing from one of pain to one of pleasure. Little by little the pain and terror were being replaced with the overwhelming sensation of total and absolute subjugation as her ass continued experiencing the ravishing of the long cock moving through her. Once again, he had started out by hurting her, and now the sensation was turning into one of such utter delight, she knew she would never be able to describe it. Spasms of forbidden delight began shuddering through her naked, childlike body. The hunger that had built up inside her from watching herself on videotape now reached out seeking for assuagement. It was raging, almost totally out of control as she began undulating her white buttocks in tiny, increasing spirals, squeezing tightly with her anal muscles at the heavy shaft thrust into her rectum and colon, drilling in from the rear. Her asshole clutched the cock like a fist, determined to milk it as surely as her cunt had milked it, earlier. She intended draining it dry, filling her anal interior with his hot, sticky flow as she had filled her vagina with it. She could feel the grey residue seeping down her inner thighs at this moment. Lord! It felt wonderful.
She knew there were scenes on the ceiling depicting this, as well, only she hadn't believed what she had been looking at.
"This is called sodomy," Brummer told her. "It's also called buggery, and you and I will practice this in the future, as well as straight fucking. I'm also going to fuck your mouth. I won't get tired of you until I know you can perform all these acts as well as any practiced whore. So we have a long time, little Etta. A long time."
"I ... uhhhh ... love it ..." Etta gasped. "Ohhhhhh Goddd! I love it, love it, love it!"
She was now wallowing in intense pleasure as all pain had slowly faded away. The wriggling teenager clenched her buttocks all the more tightly, intensifying the wicked thrills shooting through her back canal. Nothing else seemed to matter now except for the finale she expected to feel from all this. Somewhere, deep down inside her, she knew she would come as the nerve-endings in her anus tingled again and again. She'd had no idea she could feel such rapture from her asshole. She knew if she continued this, sooner or later he would shoot his scalding drops of sperm into her rectum, and how she ached to feel it. She wanted its heat flooding her large intestine with a torrent of white spend until it ran up into her belly and sloshed around inside the way it was sloshing around in her heated cunt. Thrills ran through every pore in her body, and she knew it was only a matter of moments.
And suddenly, less than a second later, her wildest fantasies were being fulfilled as Brummer let out a loud squeal, sounding more like a stuck pig than a man in the throes of delight.
"EEEEEEYYYYYYAAAAAAIIIIIIGGGGGGHHHHHH!" he bellowed, his huge phallus rammed into her ass to the hilt, spurting its heavy, surging droplets into her colon. And this immediately triggered her own orgasm as an overpowering inundation of thrills, threatening to swamp her, finally did so, drowning her in rapture.
"AAAAARRRRR AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!" she shouted, feeling electric sensations shudder through her rectum.
From her anus, the sensations blasted through the rest of her quaking body as his wildly jerking cock continued spurting its seething load into her body. She felt the semen ricochet flamingly around inside her, coating her anal walls and filling her large intestine with its substance. Then she felt the seed back up and seep out of her rectal cavity, oozing out from around his cock which was still buried inside her. The sperm soaked his swinging testicles, then fell down along her thighs, meeting the semen that was drying there from her vagina. She felt the leathery balls brush against her pussy lips, and the deposits of sperm rubbed against her cuntlips, soaking them again. Violent shudders continued to wrack her body, and as her orgasm was ready to subside, she suddenly realized a new, more intense climax was about to surge through her.
"AAAAAIIIIIEEEEE!" she screamed. "AGAINNNNNNNN!"
Etta rammed her buttocks back, slamming it solidly against the continually spewing penis buried all the way in her flooded asshole. She felt her entire body explode with wild sensations as blast after blast of frothing come continued to shoot into her, only to spill out again.
Her strength was suddenly gone, and all she could do was fall forward on the bed, listening and feeling his long, bending penis now slide from her interior. Cool air poured into the opened ass channel as her mind whirled. Her insides felt chilled now that the cock was gone, and she longed to feel it in her.
Brummer fell onto the bed beside her, lying face-up.
"I hope you've learned your lesson well," he said to her.
"Why?" she gasped. "What would you have done had I not tried to be the boss."
"I would have been a little nicer about it," he told the teenage girl. "I would have coated my cock with petroleum jelly before pushing it into your ass. It would have made that initial entry a lot less painful. As long as you do as I say, nothing will happen to hurt you, anymore. You've experienced the two real pains of sexual contact. True, there are abnormal thing we could do, like attach wires to your clitoris and nipples and send little jolts of electricity through them. Eventually, you'd learn to love that, too, but that requires too much work. Besides, much as I hate my fellow man, I'm not a pain freak. I want pleasure from you, Etta. The one way I can assure myself of your returning, aside from these videotapes, is to give you pleasure, as well."
"Well you're sure doing it," Etta admitted.
"I know, I know," Brummer nodded. "I told you I would. And as long as you continue to please me, I'll continue giving you pleasure. One day, I'll tire of you and let you go, and then you'll be free to fool around with other men and boys and get yourself as pregnant as you wish. But for now, you belong to me, and if you play around with any other male, it will be because I choose to let it happen. Come now, let's wash out your vagina."
"But not my ass," she insisted. "It feels heavenly in there, and I want to keep that feeling awhile longer."
Chapter Five
Etta's best friend was Susan. Susan, in her own way, was a female version of Edgar Brummer. Only Susan was a little chubby while Brummer had been on the thin side. Had it not been for Etta, Susan would have been friendless in school Not that she was ugly. Far from it. In spite of her chubbiness, she had a nice-looking face and a rounded body with large breasts. Had Susan lost twenty pounds, she would have been just right. She had long, black, lustrous hair, a slightly rounded belly, a pudgy waistline, and a big pair of buttocks the boys used to tease her about.
Unlike Etta, Susan was well-versed when it came to reading about sex. Her father loved to read all the new books that came out, describing stories about various people who get themselves involved in sexual situations. His favorite books came from a company with a goat as a trademark, and he bought as many books as they put out every month. And Susan used to sneak them from his room and read them as she fingered herself to a climax each night. Her father had so many books, he never missed any that she took.
Because Etta was so naive about sex, Susan knew better then to try and instruct her. People like Etta's parents were always prudish, and as a result, got very mad if anyone tried educating their children. And that was a shame, because Etta was a perfect friend in every other respect.
Like Etta, Susan felt a natural distaste for Edgar Brummer. He was definitely not her idea of a lover. And she felt very uncomfortable when he leered at her each time she visited Etta.
Despite having read all her father's erotic books, and in spite of her constant masturbating (which assured her of reaching some kind of climax, if nothing else), Susan was very naive when it came to sexual contact between two people. And it was this naivete Edgar Brummer wanted to corrupt. He recognized his own attributes in the dark-haired, thirteen-year-old girl, and like all people who see themselves in someone else, he felt a repulsion for the girl. And it was this very repulsion that made him want to conquer her.
"Your friend, Susan," he had said to Etta before she'd left his house that Friday.
"What about her?" Etta had asked.
"I want to fuck her, next."
"So?" Etta had asked, somewhat startled by his frankness.
"So I want you to arrange to bring her here, tomorrow."
"Even if I did, she would never do anything with you," Etta had said. "She's completely unaware of how good you are as a lover. No matter how I try convincing her, she won't do it. And I won't help you do to her what you did to me."
"You mean the rape?" Brummer had asked. "No, no, raping her would be no fun at all. With you it was a distinct pleasure. But I want her to willingly give herself to me."
"She'll never do it," Etta had insisted.
"Oh but she will," Brummer had laughed. "She will, because you will help me get her into a position where I'll be able to coerce her into agreeing."
"How?" Etta had wanted to know.
"Etta, are you aware of the pleasure I feel when playing with you?" he had asked.
"Sure," she had nodded. "I get the same kicks playing with you."
"Are you aware you would probably enjoy playing with a girl just as much as I enjoy it?"
"You're nuts!" Etta had told him.
"No, I'm being very factual. And that is precisely what I want to do with Susan. I want you to play with her, here, on this bed in my secret room. I want you to bring her to a climax, and I want you to make her do the same with you."
"She'll never go for it," Etta had insisted.
"I expect you will make her go for it," Brummer laughed. "She'll do it. Believe me, she will. I know her type. I know it very well. She has no other friends, has she?"
"Well, no, I guess not."
"She snitches on other kids in school, doesn't she," Brummer had emphatically stated. "Yes, I know her type. Deep down inside she's dying for a sexual encounter with someone, and you, being her best friend, would be the most logical person."
"But she'd never come into this house," Etta had pointed out. "She doesn't exactly like you."
"Actually she despises me," Brummer had insisted. "But she would come if she thought I wasn't home. Not only that, but if you mention this room to her, with all its erotic pictures and paintings, not to mention the one or two small bits of sculpture, she'd be dying to see it. She'll come, Etta. You just make the offer. And when she does, I want you to make love to her."
Chapter Six
"You're crazy," Susan said to Etta. "I wouldn't go into that man's house if you paid me money."
"Well I'm sure not going to pay you any money," Etta told her black-haired girl friend.
The two of them were in Etta's house, peering out the window at the house next door obscured by high hedges. Etta was wearing a simple green dress, and Susan was wearing a white skirt and grey blouse.
"Why would you even want to sneak in, in the first place?" Susan asked, chewing on a piece of rye bread she had found in Etta's kitchen. The two of them were in the living room, now.
"Well, I never spoke about this to anyone before," Etta told her, lowering her voice and speaking confidentially. "But you know how we're getting older, and, well ... we're sort of maturing. Well, you know, sexually we're also developing."
"Gee, I never thought you knew anything about sex," Susan remarked. "Your folks were always careful to keep the subject out of their talks, so I figured you didn't know anything about it. That's why I never brought it up."
"You?" Etta asked, somewhat surprised. "I thought you were the naive one when it came to sex."
"Oh heck, I know all about it," Susan confided. "I read a lot of books my daddy brings home."
"Do they have pictures?" Etta asked. "Gosh, no. Why?"
"Have you ever seen pictures of what it's like between a guy and a girl?"
"No," Susan admitted.
"Well, I had to bring something to Mr. Brummer for my father last week," Etta lied. "And he wasn't home, but his door was open, so I walked in. I called out, figuring he might be in back somewhere, but he wasn't in the house. I walked through the whole house, upstairs, down in the basement, and all the way in back. Did you notice he has a house just like this one, except for an enclosed extension in the rear, with no windows?"
"I never really cared to notice," Susan replied.
"Well, it was a secret room."
"What?" Susan asked.
"Uh huh. And the wall between that room and his private den was open. I walked in, and the ceiling and walls are a combination of crazy mirrors, paintings, drawings, and even photos showing men and women doing everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything."
"Honest?"
"Cross my heart," Etta said, crossing her heart.
"Oh wow! I'd give almost anything to see that."
"Well, I saw Mr. Brummer go out about a half hour ago. And I heard him talking to the mailman, saying he would be home in a couple of hours. I'll bet we could find a way into his house, and you could see his secret room."
"Gosh, do you think we should take the chance?" Susan asked.
"What chance?" Etta wanted to know. "He said he would be gone for two hours. Well a half hour has gone. We could sneak over there and stay for just an hour, and be out in plenty of time."
"Oh, wow! I'd love it, but the idea scares me."
"Come on," Etta chided. "It'll be fun, you'll see. And you'll really flip out when you see the bed he has in that room."
"A bed? Downstairs? Gosh!" Susan gasped. "Do you think he ever gets to use it? I mean, well, you know ..."
"Let's go over and see if we can find out," Etta insisted.
The two girls put on their coats and hurried outside. Stepping onto Brummer's property, they circle the house, and Etta found a basement window conveniently unlocked. They crawled in through the window, then quietly walked upstairs.
"See," Etta said, taking off her coat and folding it over her arm. "There's no one here."
"Gee, I always thought this place looked more spooky than it does," Susan said.
"Why?" Etta asked. "Mr. Brummer may be a mean man, but he isn't a devil worshiper or anything like that."
"I suppose not," Susan shrugged. "Where's this secret room."
"Follow me," Etta said, leading her into the den.
By now, she knew how to find the button which would make the wall open. Brummer had shown her. But she pretended to fumble around for a minute before supposedly locating the button. She pressed it, and the wall slid aside.
"Come on," Etta said to Susan as the inside lights went on. "You'll love this."
Susan apprehensively followed her friend into the room and looked at the various scenes of copulation, sodomy, fellatio, cunnilingus, and pedophilia. Her eyes bugged out and all she could do was stand there while Etta removed her coat without her even realizing it. Etta put both coats on a small chair off to the side.
"Feel this bed," Etta told her, running over and bouncing on the old-fashioned feather mattress.
Susan slowly walked forward and sat on the bed, her eyes still taking in the different scenes.
"Gosh," she said. "Who'd have thought old man Brummer knew about sex. These are the greatest pictures."
"That's not all," Etta told her. "You should see the private bathroom he has. Come on."
She led Susan into the bathroom where Brummer had helped her douche herself out. It was a large, blue-tiled bathroom, and there were erotic scenes in here, as well.
"Hey, you really want to play a wild trick on Brummer," Etta said. "Let's use his shower, together. It'll be fun."
"I ... don't know," Susan said, acting scared. "I really ... I mean ... well I took a shower this morning."
"Yeah, but wait'll you see the scented soaps he has in here," Etta told her. "You'll really flip. I tried the shower the last time I was here. I smelled nice all day and through the night. Come on, Susan. Be daring."
"I'm scared of the idea," Susan admitted.
"Heck, the whole thing won't take more than ten minutes. And then, after we dry off, we can cuddle up together in that big bed for awhile. Come on, Susan."
"Do you think we should take the chance?" Susan asked.
"We only live once. Come on. It'll be fun."
"Well, okay," Susan nodded. "Let's give it a try."
Etta had no idea Susan was such a sensuous girl. She had really kept her feelings hidden whenever the two of them were together. She was amazed Brummer could read the girl so much better then she. She was even more amazed to feel herself becoming heatedly aroused at the prospect of being naked with Susan. She knew she would have to hurry, before her friend had a change of heart. She suddenly realized she was feeling a strong urge to look at Susan's naked body.
Going back to the bedroom, she kicked off her shoes, and Susan did the same thing. There was the whispering sound of a zipper, and then Etta was stepping out of her dress. Although Brummer had specified she not wear panties when coming to his home, this one time she had chosen to defy his edict, simply because Susan might suspect something if she saw Etta's naked pussy so quickly. As it was, Etta was showing off a pair of brief, green bikini panties barely hiding her attributes. The panties seemed to cling longingly to her flesh. And her small bra did almost nothing to hide the swelling curves of her breasts. Etta realized her bust had enlarged one cup size since she had started with Brummer, and she was certain his handling of her tits had been part of the cause of such rapid growth.
Reaching behind her, Etta unfastened her bra and removed it, and Susan watched as her pert globes suddenly dangled free, the ripe, alabaster mounds sensuously swaying. Susan stared at the silver-dollar-sized pink aureole, ripe and rich like tasty fruit. Each nipple stood out like a rich, pink temple on the slope of an ivory hill. Yes, twin temples on snow-covered mountains, looking as if they had been erected to Priapus, himself.
"Hey," Etta admonished. "I'm the only one undressing. Come on, now. You agreed."
Susan watched as the redheaded girl slid her panties down over her hips, and kicked them from her ankles. Now Etta stood before her brunette friend, totally nude.
Susan's mouth hung open with admiration. Everything about Etta's body seemed so perfect. Her tits seemed so firm and upstanding, as if they had been artistically balanced by some sculptor. Her sloping shoulders were nicely round, neither too narrow not too broad. Most of all, Susan envied Etta's tiny waistline leading into the wide flare of her creamy haunches. The little creases that ran so enticingly into the vee of her pubis, covered by a sprinkle of red hair made Etta look even more arousing to Susan. The brunette girl got the uncomfortable feeling of arousal, and realized her friend's body was inflaming her. She could see Etta's pouting pussy lips and the pinkness between them, making her vagina look like some ripely opened tiny peach. And her thighs looked so slender and nice, even if the girl was only four feet nine inches tall. She, Susan, was only five feet two, herself.
"Gee, you're really nice to look at," Susan gasped. "You look just like one of those marble statues he has over there."
Etta could see a sense of inferiority creeping into Susan, as if the latter felt she could never compete with her redheaded friend. Etta realized she would have to do something, quickly.
"Hey," Etta said. "Instead of a shower, let's you and I share a hot tub. I found a lot of bath scents around here. Did you get a good look at the sexy bathtub Brummer has?"
"Sexy bathtub?" Susan asked.
"Uh-huh. It's shaped like a hexagon. I'll bet six or seven people could fit into it."
She proudly walked across the room, around a corner where the bathroom curved, and as she did so, Susan, still standing in the bedroom, made up her mind to be as reckless as her friend. It was terrific to find a friend who not only never made fun of her, but shared the same interests as she. Susan had no idea Etta knew so much about sex. She took off her skirt and blouse, then peeled off her socks. Her hands reached behind her to remove the bra, then hesitated for a moment.
No, she thought. I won't chicken out. If Etta says it's all right, it's all right. And she took off her bra.
Susan's breasts were much larger than Etta's. Even if she had lost weight, her breasts would be much fuller. And they had more of a definite uplift to them in spite of their size. But her aureole were only the size of half dollars. Her nipples, like her aureole, were a pinkish brown. Even when not aroused, her nipples were a half inch long. Now, they were three quarters of an inch, and still growing. She blushed, feeling embarrassed about the large size of her breasts. But she was determined to continue, and with a bravado she never knew she had, she peeled off her panties and left them in the bedroom, then stepped into the bathroom.
With the water running in the tub, Etta stepped around the comer and looked at her naked friend. And the sight of Susan buoyed the flames of lust even higher in her. She wondered how Brummer knew she would be aroused at the sight of her friend. Was it possible she had some butch tendencies? No, no, she doubted it. In fact, if Susan was feeling anything like she was feeling, she knew the heavier girl would be thinking the same thing, and she would have to put the brunette's mind at rest.
Etta's eyes were locked on the raven hairs surrounding Susan's nest, beneath the slightly swollen belly. And the way the ebony haired girl's breasts seemed to uplift and point in her direction made Etta think her friend was offering them in sacrifice to her. In spite of her excess weight, Susan's hipbones were shaped to perfection, and her best feature was, naturally, her rounded, fatty buttocks. They were full, shimmering globous mounds, and Etta bet they would be soft to touch as they gently sloped down to join her upper thighs making her pubic mound look more like a Y than a V.
"You know," Etta said, her voice hoarse with lust she was trying to hide, "you're a very beautiful woman, Susan. I mean, you're a great-looking girl. You'll develop into a gorgeous woman soon enough. Heck, you probably look a lot better than most women, right now. Gee! You'll never have anything to be ashamed of. Your breasts are great. They're even shaped better than mine. Gosh! You really look fabulous."
"Come on," Susan shrugged. "I mean, you know you're better looking than I am. I'm so ... chubby."
"Hey," Etta assured her. "Don't worry. The weight'll disappear after awhile. Gee, two years ago you were much heavier. Little by little the weight is going away. And right now you really look fabulous."
"Honest?" Susan asked, her eyes begging to hear Etta repeat herself.
"Really," Etta told her.
Susan's mind was spinning with conflicting thoughts. The look on Etta's face seemed real enough. She had seen the same look on her father's face when he had walked into her room without knocking one day and had seen her naked body. Though he was her father, he was a man, and Susan had seen the hunger in his eyes, though she knew he would never admit it.
"Boy, I'm thirsty," Etta said, feeling the heat building in her. "Hey, let's see if there's any soda in the refrigerator."
"Gee, we can't do that," Susan told her. "I mean, taking a bath and all is one thing. But drinking the man's soda or eating his food would be wrong."
"Well let's get some cold water, then," Etta said. "I mean, it wouldn't do any harm to drink some of his water."
"Okay," Susan nodded, and watched Etta walk out of the bathroom, through the private room and the den, into the hallway and the kitchen. She followed, her eyes watching Etta's jiggling asscheeks, and she felt hotter than ever. A glass of water sounded like one great idea. She didn't know why the sight of the other girl's buttocks got her so heated up, but she did know she felt like falling to her knees, wrapping her arms around Etta's hips, and plunging her tongue into the seething depths of the licentious crack winding its way between those two pouting cheeks. She would love to push her tongue way, way down, and maybe even kiss Etta's pink pussy. Gosh! That would really be something. But Etta would probably get angry and push her away. No, no she couldn't do anything like that. She shuddered, feeling exactly what Etta knew she would be feeling; that she had latent lesbianic traits somewhere inside her. She hoped Etta would not be able to read her mind.
When they got to the kitchen, Etta opened the freezer and took out a bucket full of ice cubes.
"Where do you think he keeps the glasses?" Susan asked.
"Look in the cabinet over the sink," Etta suggested, not really knowing herself, since she had never been in Brummer's kitchen, before.
Susan opened the cabinet, took out two glasses, and shut it. Etta watched her, noting how her full breasts stood up even more when she reached for the glasses. Gosh! Her friend really did have a nice body. And as Brummer had predicted, she felt herself wanting to touch Susan. But not yet, not yet.
Etta opened the refrigerator and took out a jug of cold water. The light from inside the refrigerator haloed her body, illuminating her torso, making her look golden for a moment. Her feet were apart, and the soft, pink folds of her vaginal lips seemed to light up, too. Susan stared, hungering for her friend's body all the more. She put ice into each of the glasses, then put the ice bucket back in the freezer.
Etta closed the refrigerator door and turned, holding the jug of ice water. She held it at stomach level, and when she turned, her breast brushed Susan's nipple for an instant. Susan felt as if an electric wire had touched her nipple, and it took all her willpower not to jump away. She turned and put the two glasses on the kitchen counter, and Etta, reaching around in front of her, set the jug down on the counter, letting her pubic hair brush against Susan's asscheeks. The heavier girl visibly shuddered this time. She poured water into both glasses, handed one to Etta, and drained hers. Then she threw the ice cubes in the sink, and said, "Let's go take that bath, get dressed, and scram!"
Etta left her glass on the counter and followed Susan back to the private bathroom. The tub was filled with hot water now, and Susan splashed into it, turning off the water. She sat in the tub up to her neck, watching as Etta stepped in. The red haired girl stood over her, less than two feet away, and Susan stared up at her shimmering vagina. She could see the pouting lips opening and closing like the mouth of a hungry guppy. Fire raced through her body, and she shuddered, saying, "Etta, Etta, don't stand there like that. I can't stand it."
"What's wrong?" Etta asked.
"I think I'm a dyke," Susan replied. "Oh, gosh! I think so."
Susan's mind tried to reject the thought, but it kept coming back to her as she stared at Etta's glistening cuntlips. The sight of them had so inflamed her, she felt like reaching up, gripping Etta's asscheeks, and pulling her pussy down so her mouth could suck the dripping juices first starting to appear in the pink gash. She ached to sink her face between Etta's small, firm, rounded breasts, and God! God! She wanted to feel the red haired girl's hands wandering all over her own body.
Then Etta slowly sat in the tub, feeling the hot water wash over her as she stared up at the tiled ceiling. The heat had steamed up all the mirrors in the bathroom, which was one of the reasons why Brummer had never put mirrors on the ceiling.
"Mmmmm! I never realized a hot bath on a cold afternoon could feel so good," Etta said to her friend. She lay back in the water, feeling it wash all over her.
Susan reached out with her left hand, hoping to grab onto something to keep her from sliding any deeper into the tub. Her fingers closed around something cold and thick, and when she turned her eyes, she realized she was grasping the eight inch length of marble prick attached to the statue of a faun mounted on the edge of the bathtub.
My God! she thought. Oh my God! What am I holding?
She could feel the contours of the marble cock and realized it had been shaped to match the real thing, right up to the capped head.
Her hand continued gripping it as she let her head rest against the side of the tub. It did keep her from slipping any lower. Silently, she stared around the room, looking at everything. Erotic mosaics had been tiled into the bathroom walls, and her nostrils were suddenly filled with the heady odor of sweet-smelling steam as Etta poured bath oil into the tub. Off to the side were two phallic-shaped towel racks, and even they aroused her.
Etta stared at her friend, and had to admit Brummer certainly had all the right things for building erotic sensations in a person. The crowning touch was the photo album he'd left lying on a chair near the tub.
Susan's eye fell on the album, and she reached out and picked it up. Opening it, she saw photos of two women playing with one another. One woman lay with her head on a feather pillow, while the other woman had her head buried between the thighs of the first woman. The sight was so outrageously arousing, all Susan could do was stare at it, feeling tremors of volcanic lava starting to burn through her young body. Susan could see the pink tongue darting into the even pinker center of the reclining woman's pussy. She also saw, below the tongue, a finger probing into the rectum of the supine woman. Susan couldn't tear her eyes from the photo. She was picturing herself as the woman lying down, with Etta pressing her mouth to her seeping vagina. Strong, uncontrollable tremors of wanton desire were rippling through her breasts, making her nipples swell and enlarge even more.
Susan tore her gaze from the book and looked at her suds-covered nipples. As her eyes locked onto them, she saw them longer, thicker, and stiffer than they had ever been, before. God! Just thinking about Etta's tongue sinking into her vagina had done that. Deep inside her seething little virginal cunt she felt a shuddering spasm. It was a single, wonderful throb and nothing more. God! God! She wanted to feel more throbs like that one. She wanted to feel her vagina twitch again and again. She ached for the pulsating feeling to totally overwhelm and consume her. But as she lay there in the tub, no other sensations followed. Slamming the book shut, she put it on the chair and gripped the marble faun's phallus, lifting herself out of the water. She had to get out of here.
Etta opened her eyes and stared at the soft, coal-colored triangle of hair that was dripping water as if it were coming from inside her friend.
"What's wrong?" Etta asked.
"I have to get out of the water," Susan said, feeling tremors of weakness in her knees as she stepped out of the tub and onto the fluffy bath mat. Her hand reached out, grabbed a fluffy towel, and began massaging her body with it. She made a point of drying her back, her belly, and even her thighs, but she avoided touching her buttocks, her pelvis, or her breasts. She knew touching herself there would only make things worse.
Etta sat upright in the sudsy tub, her breasts rising out of the white foam like balloons rising from some magic mist. She stretched, then winced, saying, "Ouch! I must have pulled a muscle with all the exercises I did, yesterday. Gee! If I'd known the hot bath wouldn't have done me much good, I'd have rubbed my shoulders with hot oil or something."
Susan, whose wet breasts shone against the dryness of the rest of her body, said, "Gee. Before we leave here maybe I can do something for you. Do you think we have time?"
"We've only been here about a half hour," Etta replied. "We could probably stay at least another half hour and he'd never even know we were here."
"Well is there anything I can do?" Susan asked.
"Gee, could you rub my back and shoulders?" Etta asked, standing up in the tub, letting a stream of water cascade down the length of her body.
Susan watched the water and suds move from between Etta's breasts, along the length of her belly, into the crevice between her red haired thighs. She found herself salivating, feeling the urge to plunge her tongue between Etta's thighs, and hoped the need didn't show on her face.
Etta climbed out of the tub, then said, "Let's see what we can find around here."
She dried her body off, then began looking through the lotions and oils on the tiled dressing table in the bathroom.
"This looks good," she said, picking up a bottle of some white lotion. "It's supposed to make the skin feel hot and tingly. D'you think you could rub it on my back and shoulders?"
"Well sure, I guess so," Susan nodded, as Etta took all the towels they had used and hung them carefully on another phallic extension, to let them dry.
The two naked girls moved into the bedroom, and Etta lay, face-down, on the feather bed. She turned her naked body toward Susan for a moment as she asked, "Have you ever given anyone any kind of rub down?"
"I used to rub my daddy's back and shoulders all the time," Susan replied, nodding.
"Okay," Etta replied, turning back and wincing again, as if she were in pain. "It feels like it's near my right shoulder," she told the brunette.
"Gee," Susan said, pouring the liquid into the palm of her hand and putting the bottle down on the nearby might table. "This feels so slippery and oily, just like ... well ..."
"Like a man's sperm?" Etta finished. The moment her massaging palms touched Etta's skin, Susan found the hungry crocodile of lust inside her coming violently to life. And as her hands rubbed Etta's back and shoulders, she could see the redheaded girl reacting, too. It was a sensitive moment between the two close girl friends.
Etta, realizing she had to make Susan continue, turned her head, saying, "That feels terrific. You'll have to show me how you do it. Boy, my muscles are starting to feel better."
Susan poured more oil into her palm, and she noted it probably did feel like a man's sperm. Wow! That stuff must really feel terrific if it felt like this. She dug the palms of her hands into the deep muscles under the shoulder blades, working her palms toward Etta's spine. Her fingers began working on Etta's deltoids as well as the back of the redheaded girl's neck, and suddenly Susan became aware Etta's body seemed to be vibrating. Her redheaded friend was purring like a kitten, and Susan felt her own body reacting even more strongly. She was panting heavily, and it had nothing to do with the exertions she had used in massaging Etta's back. Lord! Feeling Etta's baby soft flesh this way made her want to lean forward and kiss her. She knew Etta couldn't see her from this position, and she began rubbing her belly up and down on the edge of the bed as she continued massaging Etta's neck. In fact, she was actually able to rub her pelvis against the covers, and it felt good. It even felt better than when she fingered herself. Her vagina was getting wetter and wetter, and she rubbed Etta's back with more and more strength, working her way down to the waist. She stopped there, knowing if her hands went any lower, she might lose control of herself.
"Hey, don't stop," Etta squealed. "That feels good. Keep going and do the rest of me. Come on, Susan. You can do it."
Susan poured out some oil at the base of Etta's spine. It immediately began leaking into the crevice between Etta's asscheeks. Susan massaged quickly, trying to stop the running oil with her hand. Her lubed fingers slid easily between the rubbery mounds of Etta's gluteal flesh, and she realized her fingers were pressing against the ring of Etta's anus.
Etta gasped and moaned, loosening her body to allow her easier access. She wriggled a bit as if to urge Susan's fingers to move all the more quickly.
Susan thought of the photo she had seen in the album, of one girl's finger pushing into the anus of the other girl, and abruptly, without realizing what she was doing, her hand spread Etta's asscheeks wider apart and began massaging the wrinkled pucker. Etta sighed and shoved her ass back against the moving fingers.
Suddenly realizing what she was doing, Susan suddenly felt ashamed of herself. She tugged her fingers from inside and began squeezing the rounded hillocks of Etta's asscheeks. She felt her heart thudding in her breast, and she was panting. Etta's thighs suddenly opened, and she was using her knees to lift her buttocks against the hand of Susan's massaging fingers. With a sudden, frightening realization, Susan understood Etta was rubbing her own clitoris against the bedcovers, trying to quench the flames building higher and higher in her body.
Suddenly coming to a decision, Susan said, "Lift your behind a little so I can massage your inner thighs."
Etta did as Susan instructed, and Susan gripped the left thigh between her two hands and began sliding her palms up and down the full length of it. She watched the way her hands were moving, as if she were gripping some elephantine phallus and manipulating it. The thought made her all the more wildly excited as her hands rode higher and higher along the thigh. And then she felt a thumb make contact with the soft, tender, pink folds of Etta's vagina.
"Unnnnh ... annnhhh ..." Etta gasped, suddenly bringing her thighs together to prevent Susan from pushing her thumb any higher. Her throbbing legs began clenching and unclenching, and then she finally relaxed and released Susan's hands.
Both females were panting and gasping, breathing as if they had exerted themselves more than ever before. Susan was becoming aware of a hot, stickiness dripping down her own inner thighs. She was aflame as she had never been before. Even when she masturbated she never had feelings like this. She needed relief. Oh Lord! She really needed relief, even if it meant being called a les, afterward. Oh wow! She felt like running into the bathroom and impaling her virgin cunt on the phallic spire attached to the marble faun. Oh God! She couldn't take it anymore.
Etta's body was moving, rolling over. First she was on her side, then her back. Through lust-veiled eyes, heavy lidded with desire, she gasped, "Now ... Susan ... now do my front." Her hands lifted her breasts toward Susan, as if offering them to her.
Susan couldn't stand it any longer. She put the bottle of ointment down on the night table, then spread Etta's thighs wide apart with both hands. She stared down into the pink nest hidden by red curls, then slowly, very slowly lowered her face into the smooth, sucking cleft between the spread loins. Her lips pressed against Etta's vertical smile, and her tongue sank between the shuddering labia as her teeth began chewing the thick, outer flesh of Etta's right labius. She bit and chewed with just enough strength to build heavy desire in Etta even higher. Her tongue stabbed so far into the sucking cleft, she thought it would be tugged out by the roots. The tip wormed its way into Etta's tight hole, sinking deeper and deeper, licking all four walls at once.
Etta was aflame as she never thought a girl could be.
"Slow," she gasped, "please, Susan, slow, very slow."
Etta's hand reached out and gripped Susan's flesh, pulling on it until the heavier girl understood Etta wanted her to move her thighs closer. Susan moved around on her knees until they were near Etta's shoulder, and the redheaded girl thrust her fingers between Susan's thighs, poking them into the soft swamp between the brunette's cuntlips. Her fingers ran up and down the love-starved slit, and she finally found the clitoris. The ball of her forefinger rubbed it once, twice, three times, and Susan lifted her dripping face from between Etta's thighs to scream out her orgasm ... the first one induced by someone other than herself.
Etta, still rubbing the ball of her finger against Susan's clitoris, felt the latter's thighs crush tightly around her hand, and suddenly the flood of scalding lava was washing over her hand and wrist. Susan raised her face a little higher, gasping, crying, screeching, and then she sank her face between Etta's thighs again. Etta, who had been on the verge from the mere thought of what they were doing, now felt her body slipping over the precipice of sanity.
"HEYYAAGGH!" she screamed, but Susan, totally lost in the thrilling ecstasy and rapture of her own orgasm, was totally deaf to her friend's wailing fulfillment.
Susan no longer had a sense of time passing. With this advent of her first externally induced orgasm she sank weakly onto the bed, her head literally slamming into the down mattress. Her right hand clutched Etta's thigh, tightly, as if letting go would mean a loss of life. There was no strength left in her body. All her bones and muscles had turned to yielding rubber.
Time passed, and Etta stirred, sighing deeply, never realizing how much fun playing with another girl could be. It was wonderful, really wonderful. And if Brummer was correct, she still had a lot more wonderful things to learn.
Susan felt ashamed of herself. She had performed a forbidden act with this girl she still considered as someone knowing much less than herself. The sensation she had felt from the touch of Etta's finger had been ten times greater than anything she had ever enjoyed while using her own finger. But it was all so wrong, so sinful. Tears started coursing down her cheeks and she began sobbing.
"Susan?" Etta asked, feeling a little uneasy listening to her friend cry. But Susan's only answer was a deep-throated sob. "Hey, come on," Etta said. "Say, did I hurt you?"
Susan lifted her head and looked at Etta. The red haired girl could see the tear-streaks running down her friend's cheeks. And Susan was now sobbing as if her heart would break.
"Come on, Susan, tell me if I hurt you," Etta insisted. "I didn't mean to, you know that."
"Gosh, I feel so ashamed of myself," Susan sobbed.
"Why?" Etta asked.
"Oh, Etta, can you ever forgive me for what I've done?" And she began bawling like an infant. Sobs wracked her body, making her full breasts bounce wildly as she sobbed, "Oh, gee! I'm not really butch. Honest! You must think I'm awful."
Etta began laughing, and the laugh cut right through Susan.
"Don't make fun of me," Susan sobbed. "I can't stand it."
Etta immediately felt sorry for laughing, but a smile still creased her face. "Susan, you are no more butch than I am. And you can bet one heck of a lot I'm no lezzie. I like fucking with men much too much."
"What?" Susan gasped, her tears suddenly cut off.
"You heard me," Etta told her.
Susan stared at her, unable to believe What Etta had said. By the same token she was unable to get it out of her own head that she was a lover of females, only.
Etta could see the confusion on Susan's face, and so she said, "You and I had better have a talk."
Pulling back the covers on the bed, Etta said, "Climb in!" Numbly, Susan obeyed, feeling the cool sheets against her fevered young body. But the wonderful smoothness of the sheets did nothing to alleviate her inner shame. She lay with her head on the pillow, sobbing.
Etta stared down at her for a moment, suddenly feeling like the older friend for the first time in their relationship. She stared at the girl compassionately, but with some amusement. Then she pressed her warm body against that of Susan.
Susan felt the heat of her teenage friend's body against hers. She tried moving to the end of the bed, as far away as possible, trying to avoid any contact with Etta, still certain she was the one leading the redheaded girl into the ways of sin and corruption. Etta simply kept moving with her, staying near her. She spoke softly, saying, "Susan, I'm going to be totally honest with you."
"What do you mean?" the brunette asked, looking at her.
"Look, you're still a virgin, right?"
"Yes," Susan nodded. "Almost all the girls our age are."
"Well I'm not. I haven't been for a few days, now."
"Gosh! Honest?"
"Really and truly," Etta nodded. "I'm not going to go into details, but I've been fucked, and fucked solidly. And it's the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I love cock. I'm no lesbian, Susan. Neither are you."
"But why did I come so quickly after you touched me?" Susan wanted to know. "And why did I have the urge to suck your vagina?"
"Well heck, after looking at all these pictures and things, and taking a bath with me, you were probably aching to get laid. There was no real cock handy, and you felt good touching me, just like I enjoyed being touched by you. As for your mouth going onto my pussy, well, I had the urge to do the same thing to you. I guess it's just a natural thing, whether you're a male or a female."
"Golly! I feel so sick and perverted," Susan insisted.
"Oh come on, now," Etta snapped. "It was a normal, healthy feeling. Since when do men have a lock on pussy licking? I mean, just because all these photos show men eating women and women sucking men is no reason to assume a girl can't feel like sucking the vagina of another girl. If it's okay for a man and a woman to do things to each other, why isn't it okay for two girls to do things to each other."
"But it's natural for a guy and a girl to do things ..."
"But nothing," Etta insisted. "You were hot and bothered. So was I. We both had orgasms. Now what the heck was wrong with that? I mean, if we could've found a couple of discreet boys, we could've used them. But there were no boys around, just you and me."
"But still ..."
"But nothing," Etta told her. "I'm going to prove there's nothing wrong with you and me satisfying one another."
"Not here," Susan begged. "Mr. Brummer might come home at any moment."
"This is the best place in the world. Mr. Brummer won't be back until long after we're gone. You see, Mr. Brummer is the man who's been fucking me. He loaned me this room today, so you and I could get to know one another this way."
"Etta, you planned all this?" Susan asked.
"Uh-huh. Are you sorry?"
"I don't know. I mean how could you do anything with a man like that?" Susan asked. "He's such a rotten person."
"It's easy, after the first time," Etta told her. "Just as you'll find it easier to make love to me again now that we've done it once."
"I ... don't ... know ..." Susan insisted.
"Then you'll have to see for yourself," Etta told her.
Susan's eyes were locked on Etta's pretty face. She felt something funny in the pit of her stomach, and her asscheeks seemed to clench together. Etta's eyes seemed to be shining, and they had grown so big as her face moved closer, blocking out the fresco on the ceiling. Susan felt heat emanating from Etta's body as it pressed against hers. Thigh pressed against thigh, and belly rubbed against belly. Etta moved lower and lower. Her nipples were massaging those of Susan, and then their breasts were cramming together as the nipples stabbed into each other's flesh like hot little knives.
Etta's hands came up and cupped Susan's face between them. And then Susan felt Etta's soft, moist lips pressing against her own. The pressure was gentle and slow, at first, and everything was being done so gently Susan was not aware of precisely when Etta's tongue reached into her mouth. Soon the lingual digit was literally swimming through her mouth, making her shudder. She suddenly realized she was having difficulty breathing. Part of this was caused by Etta's body pressing against her own, but part of it was caused by the knowledge she was enjoying this, even though it was a forbidden kind of love. But this last thought was pushed aside as delightful thrills began being kindled in her shuddering loins, and sensations reverberated in her twitching vagina like it was a big bass drum being beaten again and again.
Without realizing it, Susan responded, licking her own tongue out and stabbing it into the moist, heated depths of Etta's oral cave. She sucked on Etta's tongue as her own digit fought to push into Etta's mouth, and when Etta finally surrendered, withdrawing her tongue back into her mouth, Susan's tongue relentlessly pressed forward.
Etta rolled one of her thighs up over Susan's loins, pressing her growing clit against Susan's hip bone. The feeling was sensationally electric, bringing smoldering ashes to life again as a flashing white flame seared the interiors of both girls. The flame was fueled all the more by the movements of Etta's fingers up and down Susan's spine. They fluttered over Susan's buttocks, touching them with the softness of hummingbird's wings.
Susan felt herself melting in response to what Etta was doing, and she wanted to surrender herself entirely to the sensations building in her. Then Etta abruptly stopped kissing her, and Susan looked up with large question marks in her eyes. Etta lifted her body from Susan's, and the brunette felt a keen sense of loss. Now, for the first time, she realized Etta was right. And then Etta was back, her mouth descending until she had Susan's right nipple sucked between her lips. What the heck! If she enjoyed having Brummer suck on her nipples, there was every reason to believe she could make Susan enjoy her mouth even more.
"Uhhhh!" Susan gasped, confirming what Etta had suspected.
The moan was a sound of total delight. The brunette began writhing and wriggling, feeling the heated mouth sucking in more and more of her breast. And the fluttering doves of Etta's fingers had turned into taloned hawks. One hand tightly clutched Susan's other breast, the fingers pulling and massaging the nipple, playing with it, toying with it, teasing it, making it respond to all kinds of thrilling sensations, working in rhythm with the way her mouth was sucking on the other nipple.
Etta's other claw-like hand had found the soft, juicy nest between Susan's aching thighs. Her long, teasing middle finger began sliding up and down in the simmering slot, avoiding contact with the clitoris at this time. Susan began grinding her pelvis, trying to push her sensitive clit against the other girl's moving fingers. The fingers remained in the crack, but didn't delve into the heated hole. Lubrication began seeping from the anxious hole, covering the hair-lined pussy lips, making the brunette curls glisten and shine. Etta's finger moved onto the other girl's perineum, then slid through the tight, narrow crack between her asscheeks to rub the button-like anus. Remembering how much her mother had enjoyed her father's fingering of her ass, and how much she had enjoyed Brummer's finger digging into her rectum, she felt it would be nice to tease Susan's asshole a little. Unrelenting pressure caused the finger to worm deeper and deeper into the anal cavity, and then Susan suddenly became aware of the finger. She tried grinding her hips in an attempt to escape from it, but it was too late. The moistened digit pressed a little harder, and with a small pop pressed into the anal orifice up to the first knuckle.
"Annhhh ... unnnhhh!" Susan gasped, not sure whether or not it hurt.
Etta didn't bother to wait to find out Susan's reaction. She continued working her finger deeper and deeper, while sucking Susan's breast farther and farther into her mouth, as if intent on swallowing the entire mammary. Susan felt the pain, but it was such ecstatic pain, she was unable to protest. She could feel the finger embedded in her narrow, writhing anus slowly moving from side to side in an attempt to go even deeper, but more depth was impossible. The finger was only so long, and no longer. The sphincter had completely captured the finger now that it was all the way it, and it moved with each motion of the digit.
Susan moaned and gasped. What little pain she had been feeling now faded completely, and ecstasy began building in her rectum.
Susan started trembling. Unbelievably, her body seemed to be building up to another orgasm. Her anxious body rapidly scaled the mountain of lust, reaching for the orgasmic summit. She wanted the finger rammed into her anal center plunging in even deeper. It moved itself in and out, making her rectal chamber vibrate, and then, just as the nerve-endings in her rectum were reaching for the apex of total delight, Etta's finger came popping out of her rectum. And then Etta was moving away from her.
"Oh, no! NOOOO!" Susan cried in dismay, suddenly sitting bolt upright. But she lay back down again as Etta's hand pressed firmly onto her chest.
Etta had slithered down until she half-crouched over Susan's supine form. Her soft, hot lips began kissing each of Susan's nipples very lightly, and then her tongue began moving lower, tracing wet patterns all over Susan's belly. Once the tongue paused to lap into Susan's navel. Another time it left a wet trail from one hip bone to the other. The flicking tongue slickly rubbed across Susan's lower abdomen, leaping out of the way to avoid Susan's pelvis as it traveled widthwise across the brunette girl's body. Susan tried writhing her body so the wet, slick, supple sword of Etta's tongue would come into contact with her vagina. Although she had never thought about a tongue against her pussy until today, Susan suddenly felt it urgent that she experience such a delight.
Etta was choosing another path in the relentless journey towards Susan's seething cunt. She didn't know how or why she had suddenly become so expert at this. It was really her first time trying it, and she was doing much more than Brummer had ordered her to do. Yet she had the feeling Brummer very much approved of everything, or he would have walked in by now and stopped what was happening. He was hidden away somewhere, watching all that was happening, and his two videotape machines were recording all of this.
As she kissed her way across Susan's pelvis again, Etta reached for a pillow. The strain was becoming too much for her neck. With her hands she separated Susan's thighs, and now began pushing the pillow under the full, rounded asscheeks of the pretty brunette. Now, with Susan's pelvis raised, Etta's hungry mouth began moving lower and lower. Subconsciously she wondered if looking at all the paintings on the walls had made her hungry for this.
Susan felt lustful waves of thrilling sensation shudder through her body as Etta's mouth on the outer part of her upper thigh, licking, kissing, lapping, moving slowly inward. The tongue seemed to leave a trail of fiery sputum as it ran down the entire outer length of Susan's right leg. It licked its way around the sole of the girl's foot, then slowly began moving up the inner leg, leading to the gaping bog of her pink, hungry cunt.
Susan lay back, her chubby body suddenly as stiff and as immobile as a telephone pole. She was aware her head was pounding into the mattress and her fingers were digging into her scalp.
Etta's lips swept up, up, up, toward that ultimate juicy pit, and little whimpering sounds came mewling from Susan's lustincited throat. Etta's right hand slid tantalizingly along her other inner thigh, moving higher and higher, and then it was touching the wet lips of her vagina, jolting her. She could feel the fingers doing something. Yes, yes, the thumb and forefinger were parting her hot, moist cuntlips. Yes, yes, yes, and then ...
"UNNGGGHHH!" Susan screamed, "Ohhhh, wowwwwww!" Her yell of helpless passion filled the soundproofed room as Etta's tongue, like hot summer lightning, flickered across her aching clitoris. The murky, throbbing sensations in her anguished cunt were building higher and higher.
Etta had never done this before, but her tongue needed no directing. This was as natural to her as everything she had learned from Edgar Brummer. The licking tongue, moving as if it had a life all its own, lanced between two hot layers of well-lubricated vaginal lips, bringing low moans of delirious delight from the mesmerized Susan. Now the tongue began licking back and forth, then from side to side, as if it were a small, narrow phallus. There was much more to come though, as Etta nailed her tongue up and down in the sticky, clasping depths of her friend's shuddering cunt as her forefinger continued massaging the tender clitoris.
Etta's other hand slid under Susan's rounded ass, and her extended forefinger slowly pressed against the brunette's hairless sphincter. This time Susan's body yielded immediately to the finger and it slid all the way in at once. Susan never even realized it was there, her mind was concentrating so strongly on what was happening to her vagina. Etta moved the finger in Susan's ass in a circular direction, stretching the anal cavern, and suddenly she was adding her middle finger to the forefinger.
"Yessss ... yess ... yess ..." Susan began screaming, "MORE, MORE, MORE! Do it some more. I want MORE!"
Susan shouted and screamed, panting insanely as the world suddenly began closing in on her. Everything seemed to happen all at once. The paintings seemed to close in on her, and the reflection of her body being lapped and fingered seemed to be falling down on top of her. They all came together and began wildly spinning in an insane circle, running together, exploding, blasting, erupting inside her.
"AAIIEEYHH!" Susan screamed, yelling again and again as if she were a demented madwoman presiding over her own wonderful destruction. Her hands were gripping Etta's short hair and she was slamming her pelvis into Etta's face again and again, pounding her body up and down, up and down. She was trying to ram her friend's entire face; her nose, her mouth, her cheeks, and her forehead into her own vagina as hot, creamy, colorless foam came rushing from inside her. Her heels beat a wild tattoo on the bedcovers, and her pelvis undulated like a shuddering pile driver gone totally out of control.
She came, then came again, then again, and again, and again. It continued that way until she lost all sense of consciousness, finally blacking out on the bed.
Etta, whose body was dying for satisfaction, looked up, and there was the naked Edgar Brummer who had silently walked into the room. She fell on her back, opened her thighs, and blessed him for plunging his hard cock into her making her reach five separate, thrilling culminations before he, himself, came.
Chapter Seven
"You see," Edgar Brummer said to Etta the following Sunday afternoon, "we're all prisoners of our fleshly desires. Under normal circumstances you would never have done what you did with your friend Susan, would you. But tell me, having done all that, do you feel the least bit ashamed?"
"No," Etta admitted. "No, I suppose not. I guess I really liked it."
"Just as she liked it. Just as she will like doing things with me," Brummer insisted.
"That still remains to be seen," the teenage girl said.
She was wearing a pink dress, and she wondered when Brummer would tell her to take it off so they could get down to fucking. She had become addicted to cock, and he was right about his being the only one she would trust at the moment.
Finally becoming impatient, she asked, "When are we going to fuck?"
"We?" Brummer asked. "Today," he told her, "we are not going to fuck. Today, I am going to fuck your friend, Susan. You still have a few lessons to learn about humility. One of the things you must always remember is, in this house I am the king. My word is law."
"And if Susan refuses to fuck for you, will you rape her as you did me?"
"I told you, different strokes for different folks," Brummer insisted. "Raping you was a lifelong ambition for me. I wanted to bring you pleasure through pain. Not so Susan. Susan despises me much more than you ever did. Pain would be too good for her. Susan needs a lesson in degradation and humiliation. You have done your part in starting to help teach it to her. I must admit that hot bath idea was better than anything I might have thought up. Etta, if you were five years older I'd consider proposing to you, because you have as devious a mind as I. And if you were married to me, you would never be able to plot against me."
"I, plot against you?" she asked, surprised.
"Don't try to deny what's going on in that devious little mind of yours," he snapped. "You can take torture, and you can take pain, and, like Susan, you don't enjoy being humbled for any length of time. You will always plot against me, but I know you, so any plot you may devise I will foil."
"And if I were older, what makes you think I would marry you. I could never love anyone like you."
"Love is for peasants," Brummer told her. "If you were married to me, you'd consider yourself free to do with men and boys what I have done with you and Susan. And if you actually did fall in love with one of them, you'd use my money to 'keep' him. In spite of your age, Etta, you and I are well suited to one another. I keep thinking I'm going to tire of you, but with the passing days I realize you're someone special. I may never tire of you. Who knows? If we continue long enough without anyone discovering us, perhaps one day, many, many years from now, I will marry you."
"And those tapes you've made are supposed to keep me faithful to you until then?" she asked.
"Good heavens, no. You and I are past the blackmail stage. What will keep you faithful to me is my mentioning you in my will."
"You are going to mention me in your will?" Etta asked. "I thought you said Susan was more like you. Wouldn't she be a better mate for you, later on?"
"To answer your first question, Susan and I are two like poles. We repel one another. Where I feel attracted to you, and even a genuine fondness for you, Susan and I would come to hate one another if we ever had to live together. Although Susan is going to be the second female in my self-styled harem, any time we join, it will be a match of hate. I know it and accept it."
"Are you trying to say you love me?" Etta asked.
"I just told you, love is for peasants. But I do feel an affection for you over and above the lust I've always harbored, which is why I'm mentioning you in my will."
"You mean you're going to leave me money if anything happens to you?" she asked.
"In a sense. I'm not going to go into the particulars at this time, but I will see to it you never want for food or shelter, providing you meet certain conditions which will be spelled out in the will."
"Conditions?"
"Any other girl might have a hard time meeting them. You, on the other hand, will probably consider it a labor of love."
"Why talk about a will at a time like this?" Etta wanted to know. "You're only forty, and you probably have a long life ahead of you."
"Perhaps," Brummer told her. "Perhaps. In any case, it's always good to be prepared. Now, my dear, you'll have to leave. Today is the first step in the total humbling of Susan."
Etta left, returning to her own home. Her parents and brother were gone for the day, and she had no idea what she would do. Normally, she would have called Susan and the two of them would have gone to the movies. Obviously, Susan was going to be busy.
She was amazed at how easily Brummer had seen through her. Yes, she really was plotting some way to get out from under his control, but what Brummer did not really know was her desire to go on using his cock. For all his being despicable, the man had been totally honest with her. It was a rare quality in anyone, man or woman. She knew he was aware of how much she enjoyed sex, and he was probably aware, to some extent, how important his particular cock had become to her. But he probably believed she'd be willing to give it all up just to get away from him. Even though he claimed they were beyond the blackmail stage, she was willing to bet he would be more than glad to blackmail her to keep her where he wanted her.
Etta knew she could probably eventually figure out a way to escape from this man's clutches. But in doing so, she would probably have to forsake using his cock, ever again. Oh sure, there were plenty of other cocks in the world, and she had no doubt she would be trying them out when she got older, but he had addicted her to sex, right now. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realized, she would need something to satisfy her today. Maybe, just maybe, she could try using that dildo she had found in her mother's night table the other day. It would probably be better than nothing. And as for Brummer, well, the idea of escaping from him no longer seemed important.
Chapter Eight
Susan didn't like the idea of going to Edgar Brummer's house alone, but the little note he'd sent her also had a tiny snapshot of her with her mouth pressed to Etta's pussy while Etta's hand was between her thighs. Susan felt Etta was too naive to be involved in anything so underhanded. After all, the redheaded girl was thirteen years old, like herself, only Etta was one of those "nice" girls. Even after having been soundly fucked by Edgar Brummer, Etta remained a "nice" girl. Though she could easily expect something nasty from a man like Brummer, Susan was certain her friend wasn't part of this.
When she arrived at Brummer's and the skinny man let her in, she saw Etta wasn't there, and so she was now certain Brummer had something up his sleeve all by himself. Her body might have been thirteen, but her brain was more like thirty. She'd find a way out of this, eventually.
Brummer ushered Susan into his den, saying, "I'm glad you came, Susan. It will give us an opportunity to talk."
"You didn't invite me here to talk," Susan snapped back at him. She was angry, because just as Brummer had recognized how like himself she was, she, for the first time, realized how much the two of them were alike.
"You're right," he nodded. "I didn't invite you here to talk. I invited you here to fuck you. And that is precisely what I'll do before you leave here."
"I guessed as much," Susan bit at him. "You're not the kind of man who could be satisfied with one girl."
"You're right," Brummer nodded. "But each girl has to be different from the others. You and Etta are as different as two girls can be. Etta and I had to fight before she would surrender her virginity to me. I anticipate no such nonsense from you."
"You mean you think I'm going to strip and spread for you, just like that, huh?"
"That's just what I mean," Brummer told her. "And you know it."
"I could pick up something and hit you with it," Susan volunteered.
"You could, but you won't. That photo was part of some long videotaping, and you have no idea what I've done with the rest of the tapes. I'm blackmailing you," he admitted. "And I'm going to enjoy every bit of it."
"You like fucking us young kids, huh?" Susan asked.
"Oh, yes," he nodded. "And I'm going to especially like fucking a nasty girl like you."
"Do you think you can fuck the nastiness out of me?"
"I certainly hope not. It would change you completely, and I'd never want that. No, Susan, no matter how much you'll enjoy what I'm going to do to you, you'll hate coming back here each time. You're the kind of girl who hates being dominated, and that's precisely what I intend doing with you."
"For how long?" she asked, as he opened the wall leading to his secret room.
"For as long as it pleases me," he told her, ushering her into the room. And then, without another word, he allowed his hand to slide along the upthrust swell of her full breast until his open palm filled itself with the full, surging mound of her soft breast.
Susan stiffened, standing beside him, feeling revolted as he touched her, hating him for doing this to her, but hating herself for responding to his touch. Her breath began coming faster and faster as his middle finger reached out and traced a path around her nipple, sending little needles of delight through her. Then he rubbed the rigid, rubbery peak of her nipple through her flimsy blouse as he admired her ample, girlish figure. The mere fact that her body was so different from Etta's made her attractive to him. She was what was known as a "zoftic" girl. In spite of her excess weight, her skin was smooth and warm, and her flesh was tight and resilient. Her short, black hair allowed him to kiss her neck, and he enjoyed feeling her shudder again as he did so. But he could also hear little gasping sighs coming from her lips.
Susan was angry that her body should betray her so easily. She had wanted to show him how much she despised him, and here she was, already reacting to the touch of his fingers. His thumb and forefinger were tweaking her nipple, sending lightning-like sensations flashing through her. Now her body was shivering, and inwardly she hated herself even more, because she was already surrendering to his deft touches. It had been bad enough to simply hate him for being the despicable person he was. Now she hated him even more, seeing so much of herself in him, making her realize she was also despicable. Worse yet, she would never come to terms with herself. She would always remain as she was, just as Brummer had always remained as he was.
He pinched her sensitive nipple again, and another involuntary shiver ran through her from her toes right up to the follicles of hair on her head. She felt his searching hands move around her anxious body; a body definitely roused and brought to life ever since Etta had made love to her, yesterday. She felt him unbuttoning her blouse while unzipping her skirt. Both garments fell to the floor as she remained standing there. He made her sit on the edge of the bed as his finger slipped between her flesh and the elastic band of her panties. He reached his fingers down far enough to touch the top of her rectal crease, then slipped his finger between her buttocks, pushing it deeper and deeper into the crevice until he touched her anal pucker. He rubbed the rubbery muscle, feeling her writhe, and he enjoyed the touch of it. Susan cursed him, silently, hating the fact that she was enjoying it, too.
She felt him massage her sensitive, naked flesh in slow concentric spirals as his hand eased up the smoothness of her back. He paused, unsnapping her bra, and Susan refused to look at him, closing her eyes and continuing to stare straight ahead. He pulled her bra-straps down her arms, and she lifted them enough for him to get the bra off.
She felt him stop for a moment and opened her eyes. She could see the way he was staring at the fullness of girlish body, and for the first time didn't feel inferior because she was overweight. He looked at her the way most men looked at women they coveted, and she felt glad about that, even if he was a despicable man.
She watched his right hand reach out and rub the twin half dollars of her aureole. His palm on her nipples made them grow, becoming more pink than brown. The cool air and his hot hand, added to the pressure of his eyes, sent burning flames roaring through her body. Flashes of rippling electricity blasted through her again and again, shooting down into her sex-starved belly, fanning the embers of the fire Etta had first started, the previous day.
Yes, she thought, yes. I need a cock, even if it's one attached to someone as vile as Mr. Brummer. His touch was sending all kinds of thrilling ecstasy through her, and she knew he was gloating because little by little he was making her want him, if only for now.
His extended fingertips now lightly brushed across the soft, warm, beckoning swells of her pectorals, first one, then the other, before finally clamping tightly over her right swell, squeezing the tender, alabaster-white flesh between his moving fingers.
"Come on," she heard him say. "You like it and you know it. I think we should stop playing games at this point. I want to hear you tell me you like it. So go on and say it, Susan."
"You rat," she whispered. "You know I like it. Don't stop, don't stop."
Her thighs were opening and closing like a concertina, and her full, rounded, firmly fleshed buttocks now rotated against the mattress. Susan could feel the heated dampness spreading between her thighs as the cheeks of her overly rounded ass gripped the bedcovers beneath them. His touch was firmer and more sure than Etta's, and he was driving her insane with passion. God! How she hated him for making her feel this way. More, she hated him for enjoying the knowledge he could reach her. She felt the scream welling up in her throat. The delicious sensations were driving her wild, and his fingers were teasing her body, trying to force that scream out of her.
Susan offered no resistance as he pushed her back onto the bed, stretching his body out beside hers, relentlessly stroking her breasts, building pyres of passion inside her. His fingers ran over her large white mounds again and again.
"Unnnnhhhh!" she gasped, unable to contain herself from moaning as his fingers roughly squeezed her tenderly pulsating nipples, mercilessly playing with them.
And then his hands left her feverishly jutting breasts, slowly easing down along the rounded plane of her belly. Susan automatically arched her body upward when he pulled on the elastic of her panties, making it easier for him to slide them off, and now she hated herself even more. His palm delicately brushed against the ebony hair covering her mons until his hands made maddening contact with the warm, moist, sucking lips of her trembling cunt. She felt the goose pimples rising on her flesh and knew he could see them, and it was another reason for her to continue despising him. He was subjugating her, humbling her, making her feel like some toy he could handle, manhandle, or even throw away. She trembled convulsively, gasping and sighing.
"Like it?" Brummer asked.
"Unnhhh! Does it ... ooooooooh ... matter?" she asked, her mind starting to wander, no longer thinking about who he was and how he was shaming her. She felt herself ecstatically floating as his fingers continued twiddling the lips of her vagina.
She writhed as he tantalized the soft, wet curtains of her vaginal portals, venturing to gently ease a finger between the tender flanges. Susan gasped as her anguished loins automatically pumped themselves toward his moving hand. She felt his middle finger carefully, gently exploring the entire burning length of her simmering virginal slit, running down through her asscheeks to press at her rectum, then easing over her sensitive perineum, and back into her vaginal enclave. He felt the tight, moist grip of her sucking cunt as his middle finger rested at the entrance to the taut tunnel.
Susan felt her soft, pink, inner walls unhesitatingly open to the pressing of his outstretched middle finger. It hungrily swallowed his manual digit, and though she was tight inside, she pulled it three quarters the way in before he was stopped by her hymeneal membrane. He could have punctured it, just as he'd used a finger to rip out Etta's maidenhead, but he wanted the pleasure of tearing this piece of tissue with the head of his throbbing cock, a little later. The necessary pain would come at the end, and by that time she would be so enraptured by him, she would hardly even feel it.
"Like it?" he asked again, rotating his finger in the narrow sucking confines of her virginal pussy. Susan's only response was another shuddering gasp as she began spiraling her body around the inthrust finger. Lord! This totally evil, ugly man really knew how to make a girl feel good. He was even better than Etta.
She felt her vaginal passageway being stretched even wider as he slowly slipped a second finger into her. It, too, only went in as far as her cherry, carefully avoiding touching the sensitive membrane as it rotated in the sucking depths of her seething vagina. Susan uttered a muffled gasp of delight, humping her young body up and down.
"Tell me," Brummer insisted, "or I won't keep this up. A man likes to know when he's doing something right. Do you like this?"
His fingers were wiggling wildly inside her soft flesh. They scissored open and closed.
"Yes, yes, yes," she finally gasped. "I love it, and you know it. Why do you have to make me say it?"
"Because you are my love-slave," he replied. "When it comes to sex, you will do anything and everything I command. You will do it willingly and without hesitation, because you know the longer you take to fulfill one of my desires, the longer it will take for you to feel your own completion."
As if to confirm his words, she felt his slip his ravishing fingers from her hot, squeezing internal depths, moving his fingertips around until he felt the tiny pellet of her extended clitoris. Using a thumb and forefinger, he urgently squeezed the ultra-sensitive organ as the sex-starved teenager writhed and gasped, wriggling next to him on the bed. He rolled the extended nodule between his fingers as if delicately playing with a pomegranate seed, knowing if he clamped down too hard, it would squish its juice out all over and be compressed. Susan gasped and struggled to breathe as shuddering waves of thrilling desire and animal arousal tore through her body with powerful currents.
Her naked pelvis continued grinding against his hand as she wantonly sought more fulfillment, feeling him twist and pull her small, tender, sensitive clitoris. She moaned and screamed her delighted feelings, feeling thrilling agonies course through her entire system again and again. Her chubby thighs bounced wildly up and down on the bed, and her rounded asscheeks tried excavating a hole in the feather-filled mattress.
"Yes, yes, yes," she gasped. "I love it. I admit it, I love it. Ohhhhhhhhh ... don't stop, please ... don't ... uhhhhh ... stop ..."
Her shrill voice was absorbed by the soundproof paneling in the walls of the room, but it was loud enough to make Brummer happy.
Susan was an extremely sensuous girl. Eventually, a mere look would be enough to cause her come. Right now, the simple fondling of her clitoris began building her to an instant climax. She felt his fingers continue working on her clit, but every now and again he moved his fingers up and down the entire length of her vaginal trough, stroking the inner parts of her sopping lips as well as the sensitive bud of her shimmering man-in-the-boat. His fingers moved faster and faster in the seething trench of her womanly wound.
"Unnnggghhh ... aaaggghhh ..." she began gasping, and then her rounded asscheeks rose high off the bed as if her tender body were possessed by a million little demons. She ground the sopping length of her seething pussy against his hand again and again as sighs and moans carelessly slipped from between slightly parted lips. "EEEEYYYYAAAAGGGGHHHH! UUUGGGHHH! AAAANNNNGGGGHHHH!" she screamed, in the throes of an anguished climax the like of which she had never experienced in her life, not even when Etta had lapped her pussy. There was something special about the way this man was handling her, and much as she hated him, she knew he was good for her. In passionate strains, she arched her body tautly, letting the cords in her thighs and neck stand out as she jerked again, and then again, as the current of fulfillment alternated through her tremblingly stiff body. Orgasmic juices came gushing from between her thighs, soaking his fingers, his palm, and his wrist. She felt her oily lubrication seep into the crevice between her asscheeks, running over the roundness of her buttocks. Slowly, very slowly, she eased down from the summit of satisfaction, letting her buttocks slowly sink back to the bed. She lay there gasping, looking at the leering face of the man who had brought all this to her.
Hoarsely, she gasped, "That was fab. That was really fab. Golly! No wonder Etta goes for you. Oh you may be one sonofabitch, but you really know how to make a girl feel good."
Brummer wordlessly grinned at her, slowly easing his fingers from between her thighs, wiping the slippery goo all over his hand on her inner loins. Then he got up from the bed and slowly began removing his own clothing.
"We have a long afternoon ahead of us," he told her. "There are a lot of things to try."
"Look," Susan said to him, "Can't we have a truce, this afternoon. Maybe I will go back to hating you once I leave here, but don't you think it's kind of dumb for us to hate each other while we're like this?"
"If I thought it possible for you to stop hating me, I'd willingly agree. But let's be honest, Susan. The only time you really stopped hating me was when you were reaching for your climax. Right now you feel a certain amount of disgust toward me and the only thing keeping you from voicing that disgust is the knowledge I'm going to bring you more and better satisfaction."
"I suppose," she nodded.
"And do you know what makes your climaxes with me so intense?" he asked.
"No," she admitted. "I thought I would feel this way with just about anyone."
"Did you feel this good with Etta?"
"No," she confessed.
"Of course not. It's the very hate you feel for me that feeds your lust. And that's why I enjoy you as much as I do. I feel the same hate for you that you feel for me."
"But you hate everyone," Susan pointed out.
"I despise everyone, I look down on everyone. I think of them as ants fit to be stepped on. But the hate you and I have for one another is something entirely different. For all the hate we feel for one another, we recognize each other as worthy antagonists. Our mutual hate fans a mutual respect. And even though I intend thoroughly humbling you today, I'm well aware I would never be able to do this without the natural feelings of your body. I'm playing on your weaknesses. And what's more, you know that I have as much of a weakness for you. Were it not for the video tapings I have of you and Etta, you would be trying to humble me as certainly as I'm doing it to you."
"You really are a bastard, aren't you," Susan hissed.
Her body glistened with hundreds of thousands of tiny beads of perspiration, and she saw his thick, elongated cock. It was almost as long and as fat as the cock of the marble faun in his bathroom. She realized he would use that battering ram to pound her virginity out of her, and the masochistic urges inside of her could hardly wait for it to happen. Though he was humbling her, by his fucking her he was admitting he had a desperate need for her body. True, he had fucked Etta before her, but she knew with a certainty Etta was the key to her. Just as he could see through her, she could see through him, and though she knew he felt a strong feeling for Etta, it was nothing compared to the loving hate he would have for her. She knew this because she hated him more than ever, but that hate was a kind of love.
"Fuck me, you rotten bastard," she snapped. "Fuck me good, and show me just how much I'm going to depend on your cock."
But Edgar Brummer was not ready to fuck her. Not yet. He had other plans. After all, much of his pleasure was in his total domination of her. At no time would he allow her to get the upper hand or speak to him in a dominant tone of voice as she was trying to do, now. She might be able to do this later on in life, when she found other lovers, but with him it would be different.
Getting to his feet, he reached out and grabbed Susan by the short, black hair on her head. He pulled her face close to his body, giving her a close look at his throbbing cock, letting her see all the winding veins and pulsing arteries, as well as the thousands of tiny capillaries lacing their way through his massive organ.
"Take a good look at it," she heard him say, and she stared, seeing the way the bulging glans leaked slippery balm. It covered the entire surface of his pulsing head, making it shine as if it had been lacquered.
She inhaled, smelling the strong, musky masculine scent he emitted. It was arousing, and she could feel the heat pulsating between her thighs all over again. He was going to ram this wonderful member of his between her thighs and fuck her. Yes, yes, it was exactly what she wanted.
"Sit on the edge of the bed," he commanded.
"Why?" she asked.
"Do it!" he insisted, and his tone was such she instantly obeyed, sitting, staring at his pulsing wang as he moved closer.
"Suck it!" he insisted.
Susan's mind reeled for a moment. She couldn't believe she had heard him correctly. He had to be crazy. Only whores did things like that. It was one thing to humble her, but to make her do this was not only intolerable, but unconscionable.
Aroused as she was at the sight of the trembling penis, Susan began trying to think of a way out of this. She needed some excuse to refuse this vile thing. She couldn't. It was one thing to lick a vagina, especially a vagina that had just been soaked in a hot tub. All she had to do was extend her tongue and probe. But this massive pole would be pushing into her mouth, ramming into her throat, choking and gagging her. And when he reached his own climax, he'd be shooting that white stuff she'd read about in all her father's books. He'd be pumping it down her throat. That was disgusting.
"No ..." she said, choking. "No, no, I won't do it ..."
But Brummer was determined this step in Susan's total humiliation and domination would be performed.
"I said suck it!" he snapped. "I'm not playing games. Put it in your mouth and suck all of it in."
Brushing her ebony locks from in front of her face, Susan once again stared at the massive cock. All the while her mind was working, desperately seeking some way out of this horrible thing. But as her face came closer and closer to the wavering phallus, she realized there was no way out. She knew she would have to do it. He had suddenly become the most important man in her life, and not just because of his blackmailing videotapes. He was the one man who was exactly like her, and she knew she needed to learn from him if she intended surviving. It was easy for a man with money to survive, but she was a girl, and her father was not rich. She had to learn all his tricks. But as she stared at the huge pike, so heavy it almost sagged, she struggled to hold back the thick lump in her throat. She felt terrified and repulsed at the thought of doing what he commanded. The mere idea of that massive red cock shoved into her throat made her want to throw up.
Brummer stepped as close to her as he could, his hands reaching out and cupping the back of her head, determined to bring her forward. The head of his schlong dangled mere inches from her wet, trembling lips. He moved forward the littlest bit more, letting the angry-red glans lightly brush those tantalizing pink lips.
"Come on, Susan. It's all yours. Do a good job and I'll reward you by fucking you, after. Come on!"
He tugged on her head, but she turned her face to the side, and the wet point of his cock smeared a colorless line of lubricant along her cheek. Brummer was patient. He didn't intend forcing Susan, because to force her would be a victory for her. She had to swallow his cock willingly.
Susan closed her eyes, shutting out the sight of the bullet-headed phallus. Maybe if she didn't look at it, it would go away. She felt Brummer's hand on her cheek, smearing the lubrication around, even rubbing some of it on her nostrils. And when she opened her eyes, she once again stared into the sightless eye of the throbbing, dangling cock.
"Come on, Susan," he told her. "You know you're going to do it."
His tone was calm and so precise, it angered Susan. Who the heck did he think he was, telling her she knew she was going to do it? If he wanted to make her suck that thing of his, he was going to have to force her, because there was no way she was willingly going to swallow that tool of his.
"I expected some resistance at one given point or another," he told her. "So I thought you should know, I'm going to make your parents a present of a Sony Beta-max. You know, it's a machine that can videotape TV programs and play them back at a later time. Not only that, but it can play other videotapes, as well. And I'll give you one guess what tape will accompany the machine when it first arrives at your house."
"B-but you'll be hurting Etta, too," Susan pointed out.
"Come on, Susan," Brummer laughed. "Do you really think I care whether or not I hurt Etta? The important thing is to hurt you! Now, I am not going to use physical force on you. I will not pry your mouth open, nor will I shove my penis down your throat. You will open those lips of your own free will and accord, and you will suck my cock into your mouth. You will do this without any physical prompting from me of any kind."
"I thought I was a bitch with other people," she whimpered. "You put me to shame."
"Not really," he laughed. "I'm just a little older than you, and I've had more experience at hating. Now, let's stop all this bullshitting and get down to it. Suck!"
Her mouth opened slightly as she sobbed. Little by little her agonized lips parted, forming an arousing oval that made Brummer's cock shudder all the more as he stared at her lips. Slowly she leaned forward, surrounding the thick, rubbery head with the warm, moist cover of her lips. The head was halfway between her lips when she stopped moving forward, sucking and pulling it, feeling the seeping flow of his lubrication wet her lips even more. Little by little she forced herself to take in more of the huge phallus, feeling it twitch against her tongue as it became stiffer and more erect. She could taste the swollen head flexing and enlarging even more as it became even harder. The young girl made sure not to move her head from side to side, since the thick, swollen pole was already spreading her lips and cheeks. Her tongue pressed against the knotted underside now, where the head joined the rest of the staff. She could feel the mighty pole quivering.
"You're doing fine," she heard Brummer's voice urging. "But this is only the beginning. Come on, honey. Stop giving both of us such a hard time. In a short while you'll get used to this, and you'll love it. You won't be able to start a fucking session without giving a little head, first."
Susan realized he was right. Resistance at this point was totally ridiculous. Besides, she was first beginning to enjoy what she was doing. Maybe she was even sicker than other people had claimed. The idea that he was thrusting his swollen meat pole into her mouth should have nauseated her. But it didn't. On the contrary, the more she sucked on it, the more she was beginning to enjoy it. No matter how degrading it seemed, and no matter how disgraceful she appeared, she was beginning to like it. She felt the churning ball of lumpiness in her throat suddenly dissolve as the knot in her belly began easing. She closed her wet-walled lips all the more tightly around the thrusting cock, teasing the rough, knobby head with her tongue, feeling his hands loosen their pressure on the back of her head as he felt her mouth take a rhythmic sucking. He pressed very gently now, as if keeping his balance by holding his hands on her head.
Brummer looked down at the long, thick pole of cock protruding from his groin into her mouth, feeling the throbbing pressure of her warm, wet lips and moving tongue. He loved the sight of her pursed lips, puckered enticingly around his cock, sucking in half the length of it at the moment, and he felt a slight twinge of disappointment that she hadn't fought him a bit more. He had come to accept her as his feminine counterpart, and kept forgetting she was only a young girl. He kept thinking she was as old as, and as experienced as, himself. Hell! He would have really relished putting on a little more pressure by showing her the stills he had made from the tapes, which he would have threatened to scatter all over school if she didn't obey him. But she was like him in another way, too. Her practical mind had shown her the folly of resisting at this point, and she had done what she'd had to do.
There wasn't time for him to continue enjoying these thoughts. He intended getting the maximum pleasure from this, his first blowjob. He thrilled to the sight of her brunette hair moving forward some more, engulfing more of his throbbing cock. And then her head was sliding back, revealing his spit-moistened staff. Damn! Damn! Damn! Even if this was his first blowjob, he could tell this was her first time doing it. She was being very amateurish about it. In a way it made him feel good. His first blowjob was being handled by a girl who was sucking for the first time. This one was a virgin in every respect, but he would alleviate her of that condition in every way possible.
Susan felt his hands slide down to her shoulders, running over her white, perfect, unblemished skin. Heat was burning its way through her, and though his hands felt warm they almost fell away from her, her own flesh was so hot.
It was plain, though she was feeling erotic tingles running through her body, she wasn't sucking with all her heart and soul. She felt him lift his hands and press his palms against her cheeks. He pressed hard, so the insides of her cheeks rubbed the throbbing stalk of his probing prong, and she felt him start pumping his hips back and forth, pushing the point of his prick even deeper into her sucking mouth. If he pushed any further, he'd be shoving his meat into her tender, narrow gullet. The bulbous, lust-swollen tip rubbed against the back of her palate, and she could feel his pressuring hands crush her teeth around the solid poker. She thought the pressure of her teeth would be hurting him, but he seemed to thrive on the scraping of his skin by her dentures as it pushed in and out of her tightly clamped lips. She could feel how sensitive the nerves in his finely tuned penis were, shuddering and trembling at the least little flick of her working tongue. The pressure of her lips seemed to be involuntarily becoming tighter, and the very touch sent shivers of surging animalism roaring through his shuddering loins. She could feel him moving forward, trying to clamp her face between his plunging thighs.
"Yes, yes, yes," he gasped. "You learn quickly, Susan. That's nice. That's very nice," he gasped, and she felt him pumping his throbbing cock all the more deeply into her throat. Her warm, slippery, enveloping lips now slid along the entire length of the masculine prong each time he rammed his hips against her pretty, tear-stained cheeks. She could sense his flesh stalk getting thicker and harder each time he plunged it into her mouth, stretching her lips and cheeks way out of shape.
Her eyes looked up, along the flat length of his skinny belly, and she could see his face, leering down at her. She was doing her best to gobble in the entire length of his pulsing penis, and this was one time she would gain some small measure of satisfaction from him. She could tell by the look on his face he didn't expect her to really take the last little inch into her mouth. He wanted to make her gag and choke a little by trying to force it in, but she would fool him. She would relax her throat and swallow the last inch of cock, even licking his balls with the tip of her tongue. As long and as thick as his prick was, it just wasn't long enough to chastise her as he wished.
He put his hands on the back of her head and rammed forward again, expecting her to react by gagging, choking, and pulling away. Instead, she kept going forward, swallowing every last bit of his throbbing cock. He could feel it press into her pharynx, and his rubbery head was getting a massage he'd never expected. Her throat muscles were as strong as the muscles in Etta's asshole, and he felt her esophagus start to really squeeze his cock. Christ! She was going to be one helluva cocksucker.
Susan sucked strong and hard, desperately trying to keep her throat loose and open so she wouldn't gag on the thick, swollen meat forcing its way into her gullet. Golly! All this was so new to her. And the meat in her mouth was so swollen and big. And each time she pushed forward, she could feel his skinny abdomen slap against her cushioned lips. His cockhead was rubbing her palate so hard, the outer layer of skin was being rubbed off. Her throat was becoming more and more raw. Susan wondered how much longer she would be able to keep this up before she gagged and strangled to death. She knew fighting would only make it worse as the heavy thickness filled her gullet again and again. The hardest thing was fighting back the choking coughs. She didn't want him knowing what he was doing to her. This was her only triumph, at the moment. Granted, it was a minor one, but any triumph was better than none.
Slowly, little by little her throat muscles relaxed more and more, and she fought back the gasping, choking gags, and now the penis was sliding in and out a bit more easily. She felt him pulling it all the way out, letting her breathe for an instant, and then he would start stroking it in, pushing it through her widely ovalled lips, sending it on its journey deep into her tender pharynx. She had to angle her head so her throat was directly behind her head, because his penis refused to bend so much as an inch. Lubricated with her heated saliva, it slid into her gullet more and more easily. The slippery traces of his penile lubricant added to the lessening of friction, but between his oiliness and her saliva, she found it necessary to swallow all the more often. Mixed emotions rampantly charged through her body. She didn't know what to think or feel or do. The tightened flexing of her throat muscles was having an effect on his pulsing cock. She knew he would shortly come, and different sensations were working through her body. She knew his cock would spurt the stuff all over her tongue and throat, and she was mixed up as to whether or not she really wanted to taste it. A part of her was screaming for her to hurry up and get it over with, while another part of her actually yearned to taste the spunk. She remembered reading in her daddy's books how all the loose women who did things like this enjoyed the seminal taste. On the other hand, once he came, she would no longer be able to suck his dick. It would shrink and no longer be the solid spur she was now sucking. And she had to admit, the more she did this, the more she enjoyed it.
Susan almost gagged, then swallowed more saliva mixed with lubrication. When she coughed a little, she felt him tug the pulsing penis from inside her mouth, as if thinking he had won again. He rubbed the penile head over her lips, inside and out, rubbing her teeth and gums, and now she could smell the essence of his throbbing lubrication as it oozed from the tiny slit in his pulsating tip. His penis painted her lips and teeth again and again with his slightly saline oil, leaving everything shining and glistening. But she was not beaten, because she knew she had not really choked. He had not won. She was aware he would ram his dong deep into her throat as he came, hoping to make her gag on his sperm. But she would fool him, she would swallow it, all of it. She had read how men pumped so much semen into a woman's mouth it came dribbling out. But she wouldn't let it happen to her. She would swallow every last drop, and that would be another victory for her, proving she could handle whatever his penis could unload.
He slowly pushed it into her mouth again, and she could feel certain telltale twitches. She could also see his tighten-up balls impatiently jumping up and down in his scrotum. He rhythmically, slowly, carefully continued pumping his penis between her lips as her tongue rubbed the underside all the more intensely. She savored every delicious inch of his instroke now, sucking wildly on the pulsating wang as it disappeared very slowly into her throat. She wanted to feel every screaming little pulsation as the sperm ran through the thick tube in the underside of his cock. Yes, she could feel that tube twitching, right now. Soon it would start pumping the flow out into her mouth, down her throat.
Susan could see his swollen testicles were straining in their tightened, hair-covered leather sac. She felt his hands pressing more strongly on the back of her head, but she knew he wasn't aware of what he was doing. He held her head tightly, absolutely motionless as he pounded his penis in and out of her mouth, slamming the thick head as far down into her throat as it would go. It sank deeper and deeper into her tight, constrictive gullet. And then the pulsations in his cock became powerful, and Susan said to herself, He's coming! I can feel it!
Her hand reached up and felt his balls, and she could feel hot, shivering bursts exploding in them as something seemed to be moving inside them. Then she felt the heavy tube in the underside of his stroking phallus pulsate even more strongly. He was sinking his long, thick cock as far into her throat as possible, scraping her lips with his pelvic hair. His iron grip held her head perfectly still and in place and she waited breathlessly, feeling the surging sperm rise higher and higher in his cock.
"AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!! UUUUGGGG!" he screamed sharply, emptying his lungs of air at the same instant he blasted his semen-filled balls into her mouth.
Susan, poised for it, tensely waiting, began sucking immediately, savoring the rich, steamy flavor as she drank her fill from his penile fountain. It was rich, pungent and delicious, and she wanted every wonderful drop of it. Every bit of the precious flow oozed down her gullet, into her swallowing esophagus. Her lips tightly sucked the long, thick, quivering cock, gulping the gushing spurts of spend as they flooded her mouth. She sucked like a starving calf at its mother's udder. Her arms wrapped themselves around his thighs and pulled him closer as his throbbing cock began shrinking. She pulled him closer and closer so she could keep the entire extension in her mouth. Her tongue-tip lanced out and washed his balls, making his knees turn to jelly, and it took all his strength to keep him from collapsing against her. She swallowed, swallowed every last drop. And when he finally did pull away from her, there was one last sticky drop on the top of his cock which stuck to her lower lip, creating the stringy impression of a string from a spider's web. It clung to her chin as well as her lip, then broke off from his penis, and her tongue snapped out and licked it all up.
"Keep licking it," he told her. "Make it grow again."
Obediently, she fell forward on her knees and sucked his limp penis into her mouth. For more than ten minutes she sucked and licked and bit and chewed, and then, little by little it began growing again. It took another five minutes before it attained any degree of hardness, and when it did, he shoved her back on the bed, raising her heavy thighs over his shoulders, then pressed his own knees into the bed, and without giving her a chance to realize what was happening, rammed the full length of his thick spike into her creaming virginal snatch. He sundered her hymen with no effort at all, and kept on going into her, hoping he'd given her some small measure of virginal pain. It would have been a shame for Etta to have suffered and for this one to feel nothing.
All Susan felt was delight. She was so caught up in the sexual turmoil inside her body, when his cock sank into her, widening her narrow walls and breaking her maidenhead, she felt nothing but sheer rapture, and before he could start stroking, she began climaxing, reaching seven separate peaks in a matter of one minute, screaming, "AAAIIIEEEYYYAAAGGGHHH!"
The clenching of her vaginal tube around his thrust-in cock brought on his second orgasm almost immediately. He was amazed at her sexual capacity, and wondered if it possibly exceeded Etta's. This was something he would have to find out.
Chapter Nine
Neither Susan nor Etta was summoned by Edgar Brummer during the next week, and both were curious why he delayed so long. They knew he wasn't trying to be kind to them. That wasn't his way. But because of their forays with him, the two girls now felt closer than ever.
The following Saturday, both girls received calls from Brummer telling them to be at his house at noon. Somehow, the man had been careful and had called when no one else was home, so no one else knew Brummer had called the two girls.
Though it was nearly the end of March, the weather was still chilly. Both girls wore heavy coats over their mini-dresses, and since neither was wearing panties, their pussies were very cold, as were their delectable asses.
Once inside Brummer's house, the two girls hung their coats in the hall closet and walked back into his den. The secret wall had been slid back, and Brummer was waiting for them in what he termed, his erogenous zone in the house. He was wearing a robe, and both could tell he had nothing else under it.
"Today," he told them, "I wish to learn the various traits about each of you girls. That is, I wish to discover your various sexual aptitudes. You'll begin by playing with one another, then I'll join in."
Susan didn't waste any time. She simply undressed, while Etta poured herself a glass of soda from a nearby cart Brummer had thoughtfully provided for them. He knew they would need a lot of energy, and since they would be perspiring heavily, losing a lot of body liquid, the soda would help replenish it.
"Now," Brummer told them, "play with each other for awhile."
Etta shrugged, knowing she would do whatever the man wanted, not merely because he wanted it, but because it was fun. But she felt it would be more fun to drag Brummer into everything immediately. So as she undressed, she asked, "Susan, has he ever gone down on you?"
"No," Susan replied. "But he made me go down on him."
"Was it fun?" Etta asked, removing her bra.
"I like it," Susan nodded, looking at Etta's nakedness, enjoying the sight of her as much as she had enjoyed looking at Brummer's cock, once she'd gotten over hating the idea of sucking it.
"Was Susan as good as I was?" Etta asked Brummer.
"I thought it was the man who was always worried about how good or bad he was," Brummer laughed. "To be truthful, I can't say which of you was better. The two of you were so different. And as for my lapping your pussies, if and when it suits me, I'll do it. I keep trying to remind you girls, I am the king here. You will both do as I say. You will neither of you give me a hard time. You, Etta, will do as I say because in spite of my personality, you've learned to like me a little. And you, Susan, will do as I say, because you despise me and want to prove you're better at my own game than I am."
The two girls had sidled over to where he was standing near the bed, and while Etta began rubbing his spine, Susan ran her hand over his throbbing cock. It was as solid and as ready as ever.
"It sure is a biggie," Susan remarked. "You know, something like this, attached to any other man, would have me aching to suck in a matter of seconds. You're right. I do hate you as a person. I always will. But I'll always love your cock. I can't blame it for being attached to you. It isn't the fault of the penis."
Her hands had pulled it out, brushing his robe aside, and she was caressing it, feeling it, rubbing it, making it grow even stiffer, while Etta continued kissing him and rubbing her hand up and down his spine. Etta opened his robe and swept it off his shoulders, then leaned down and kissed the tiny masculine nipples on his chest. She licked her tongue across them, watching them quiver, and for the first time, Edgar Brummer began feeling a little unsure of himself. He had unleashed a pair of sexual monsters in the form of two young girls. To look at them, one would never guess the sensuality lurking inside them.
He couldn't let this go on. He was the one in control. He had to make the two of them understand that.
"Etta," she heard him gasp, "I ... want you to stop this and start playing with Susan. Do it!"
But the lust-driven redhead only laughed and ran her hand over his belly, making him sit on the bed. She kissed his navel, her eyes looking down and watching the way Susan was fondling his penis. She could see the way the bright red instrument was twitching and pulsating, and she realized the two of them together could defeat the man's mastery over them. She saw him gasping and writhing, attempting to get off the bed and escape their predatory hands and mouths. This was too good. Etta knew it was time to press the advantage they had over this man. The sooner they did so, the sooner he would realize that sexually, he was no match for the two of them.
The air resounded with derisive, girlish laughter as he felt his head being slammed back against the bed. He couldn't quite understand how things had gotten out of control, but all the breath seemed to have left his body. He lay there, almost senseless, stunned as the two girls crawled all over him.
"Torture is what you need," Susan snapped. "And since you like my mouth and tongue so much, I'm going to use them to torture you."
While Etta straddled his chest, pressing the hot, wet lips of her cunt against his nipples, Susan knelt at his feet, and with her tongue began licking the soles of his feet, tickling him, making him laugh and guffaw. He rolled and shuddered, trying to shake Etta off him, but she would not be thrown. Susan's tongue was driving him wild, and he began screeching, pleading with them to stop what they were doing.
Then Susan began licking his ankles, first one, then the other. And her tongue climbed a little higher, licking his shins, and then his inner thighs, and Brummer calmed down a little. But sensations were piling up inside him, and he realized he was much hotter than even he had suspected. Not that it mattered. He knew something neither girl knew. This would be their last foray together. In a way, he was grateful the girls were taking the initiative.
Etta sat forward a little more, and her red haired pussy was only inches from his chin. He could smell the delicious aroma of her youthful femaleness.
"Come on, now," Etta chided. "You like this and you know it. Don't deny it."
Her fingers were caressing his face, while Susan's fingers were teasing his thighs and hips. Their touch was like the bites of tiny little soldier ants, and he wriggled on the bed, knowing he was going out of his mind with lust for the two of them.
The two girls continued sexually tormenting him, teasing him, treating him as if he were some kind of animal at bay. Susan could see his upstanding like a smoldering cannon, loaded, but unable to fire because it had not yet been ignited. His throbbing balls swelled with seed. He would fuck the two of them, one at a time, and while he was fucking one, he would eat the other. Yes, yes, that would be perfect. That way, everyone had a least two orgasms, though he was certain each of the girls would have four climaxes for one of his.
Etta felt herself being swept off his chest as he suddenly sat upright. She watched as he flung Susan over onto her back, parted the girl's chunky thighs, and nailed his heavy cock right into her.
"Ohhhhh!" Susan gasped. "That feels good, so good."
Before Etta could realize what was happening, he had grabbed her and had thrown her down on top of Susan, face-down.
"Kiss her!" she heard him command. "Kiss her, now!"
The two girls opened their mouths and began tongue-dueling, but even as she sucked Susan's tongue into her mouth, Etta felt the lower half of her body being lifted. She felt her knees resting on Brummer's shoulders, and then she shrieked a loud, "OWWWAAOOOWWW!" as he sank his mouth into the seething depths of her creaming pussy. His tongue licked strongly, and his pelvis flicked forward, stabbing his huge pole into the simmering depths of Susan's body.
Susan gasped and continued kissing Etta.
"He's got me nailed, all the way," she whispered to the redheaded girl.
"His tongue's eating me alive," Etta replied, and began kissing Susan all the more strongly. Her hands caressed the brunette's swollen breasts as her tongue swirled through the girl's sucking mouth, and she could feel Susan's hands pulling on her own nipples. She wriggled insanely, feeling Brummer's head push against her soaking slot, his tongue stabbing in again and again. Her body writhed madly, pushing back into his face as her thighs clamped tightly around his cheeks. The feeling of his tongue into her simmering center was driving her mad with need.
She could feel his hands around her buttocks now, squeezing them, pulling them, kneading them. And then a forefinger sank into her ass as his tongue continued working through her flaming slot. It made her kiss Susan all the more solidly as her own hands all but pulled off the heavier girl's tits. She squeezed and rubbed and massaged, and she could feel Susan wildly rotate beneath her.
The thrilling drill of his tongue into her seething quim made her rotate her buttocks wildly, as her knees continued pressing into his shoulders. Flames of fiery passion built higher and higher as her fingers continued massaging Susan's breasts, and her mouth clung to Susan's sucking lips.
Brummer struggled to stay on his knees between Susan's shimmering, full, founded thighs. His eyes burned into the slim, curvaceous buttocks of the girl whose thighs were wrapped around his neck while his tongue continued lapping into her juicing twat. It felt fabulous to sink his hard, stiff prick into the seething depths of one cunt, while being able to bury his face in the soft, thrilling folds of another.
Susan felt his long, thick cock running far, far into her, reaching more deeply than ever before. She was glad he had waited a week before doing this with her again. During most of the week she felt the soreness between her thighs caused by the loss of her virginity. He ran his throbbing cock in and out of her tight quim with the power and speed of an express train. Had he fucked her this way any sooner, she was certain she would have felt pain. The mere fact that enough time had elapsed for her interior to heal ensured her of continuing thrills as his heavy penis continued slamming deeper and deeper, filling, and re-filling her wet, slick, vaginal cavity with his mass of columnar meat.
Etta felt herself slipping. She realized it was taking a lot of strength and stamina for Brummer to hold her in that position. She twisted a little, and as her body rolled from Brummer's shoulders, she fell onto the bed, her hands pressing Susan's swollen mounds all the harder as her knees hit the soft mattress. She took her mouth from Susan's and rolled away from the heavier girl, giving Brummer total access to her body. The skinny man leaned forward, pressing his almost sunken chest against Susan's rich, full tits, and the brunette felt him sinking his cock all the more deeply into her. This made her raise and lower her buttocks all the faster, trying her best to keep pace with the way Brummer was fucking her.
Etta crawled around behind Brummer and pressed her cheek against the mattress, watching the way his pole continued to ride in and out of Susan's cunt. This was the first time she had ever had such a close view of such goings-on, and seeing the red cock slice between the pink labia made her hotter than ever. She leaned forward and pressed her face against Brummer's moving balls, sucking them into her mouth, one at a time. She knew she was making the man react by the way he began shaking and shuddering. Her tongue washed his hairy scrotum again and again. She paused for a moment to pull a loose hair out of her mouth, then she continued sucking his balls. Her tongue licked each testicle in turn, then reached out and lapped at the base of his cock on each backstroke. This only speeded up Brummer's fucking of Susan, because he was enjoying the thrill of her tongue on his penile underside. He rammed in with harder, faster strokes, pulling back to feel the licking lingual digit of the sensual redheaded girl.
Etta decided she wanted some of the fucking, too. She moved around front again and slid between Brummer and Susan, once again face-down, so her firm, round tits could press into the large, upstanding balloons attached to the dark-haired girl. Her cunt slid lower and lower until it came to rest on Susan's pelvis, and each time he powered into the heavier girl, Etta could feel his hairy groin rubbing against her leaking cuntlips.
"Ohhhhh Godddd!" she gasped. "That feels wonderful."
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Susan yelled in a commanding voice.
Edgar Brummer was not ready to turn command of his sexual activities over to anyone, and Susan's voice, ordering him to fuck, decided him as to what to do. He would fuck them both, first one, then the other, then one, then the other, and he would keep on alternating between their sticky, honey-sweet cunts, prolonging the time for either of them to reach her climax.
Susan felt her clitoris being rubbed by the extended clit of Etta's pussy as Etta moved her body back and forth. The friction made the two clitorises reach for each other and rub again and again, as if they were two matches with their heads being rubbed together. And with the tight, greasy cock slamming into the depths of her seething vagina, she felt thrills as never before.
And then part of the thrill was gone as the long, fat cock slipped out of her. She thrashed around, reaching down with her fingers, trying to find the hard tool and ram it back into her.
Etta felt Susan twisting and writhing, and the pressure against her own clitoris began increasing. Ohh Godddd! It felt so damned good. But another feeling seemed to make everything feel even better. The thick, blunt-nosed cock of Edgar Brummer's phallic wand began nosing its way into her trembling vagina. It moved in slowly, and Etta felt the tight, squashing depths of her shuddering cunt close tightly around the intruding phallic pole, squeezing, and squeezing, and squeezing it.
Edgar immediately sensed the difference between the two cunts. Etta was a tiny girl with a tinier vagina, and no matter how often it took his thick reamer, it would return to a narrower size than Susan's. Pushing into the hot, wet pool of buttery flesh sent chilling thrills through Brummer. It was a good thing Etta was the girl on top. Her smaller ass felt delightful against his belly as he leaned forward and rammed himself into her more restrictive vagina. Slowly, very slowly, his massive meat pushed its way into Etta's clutching cunt, feeling her wriggle with maddening passion.
Yes, Etta would always be the more appreciative of the two girls. He could hear the way she was sighing and truly enjoying the powerful thrusts of his moving cock. She was trying to suck his magic wand even more deeply into her, and had she been deeper, she would have succeeded. But his thick cock was already resting against the entrance to her womb, and if he pushed any harder, he would hurt her, stretching the cervix and moving into it. Etta felt him pounding in and out, in and out, feeling Brummer's fingers tug the moons of her rounded asscheeks apart so her hairless asshole could feel his pubic curls tickling it. Etta writhed and squirmed on top of her friend, rubbing her aching clitoris all the more arousingly against Susan's extended nubbin of sensation.
"Oh, Christ!" Susan gasped, feeling the way her friend's clit massaged her own. "I wish to God there was a fourth person here, another man, under me, with his cock thrust up into my cunt. Then the four of us would really go crazy."
"That's ... uhhhhh ... something you girls can try ... uhhhhh ... a little later on," Brummer grunted.
Pulling his enlarged dork from the squeezing, compressing interior of Etta's hot cunt, he moved his body lower and sank it back into Susan's sucking pussy. The brunette's flaming cunt grabbed his cock and swooshed it right back in, clinging to it as if it had fingers inside. She felt so thrilled about it, she opened her mouth to gasp, but Etta's tongue lanced right in, cutting off all sound. She felt the swollen, tingling phallus ride into her again and again, while the more slender, shorter girl continued rubbing against her pubis, massaging her thrilled clitoris with her own budding piece of flesh.
Etta was going wild. It had been a full week since she had been fucked. She liked Susan very much, and she wanted to see her friend enjoy everything, too, but she was overanxious for a good climax. What Brummer had done to her was more cruel now than when he had first started. He had awakened her body for the need for a climax, and then he had completely cut her off for a full week. Once or twice she had tried using her own finger, but that hadn't been much good. And listening to the sighs and gasps of her parents every evening helped even less. She needed a cock bringing her total satisfaction, and she needed it, now. Her teacher's hairy pelvis, rubbing her asscheeks wasn't helping too much, either. All it did was build the fires a little higher in her body.
And then Brummer's solid prick was sawing out of Susan's crushing pussy and slowly sinking back into hers. Etta forced herself up onto her knees, keeping her clitoris away from Susan's, and she pounded her ass back against the thrusting cock with eager avidity.
Susan, realizing she was getting almost nothing from this right now, suddenly slid her body out from under Etta's, turned around, and slithered back under her, headfirst. Her face came to rest under Etta's burning pussy, and she could see Brummer's thick, fleshy log pushing in and out of the tight, elastically stretched pussy. Lord! The sight was fantastically arousing.
Susan wrapped her arms around Etta's ass and pulled the shorter girl back down, and because Etta's cunt clutched Brummer's cock so tightly, Brummer was pulled down with her. Etta could feel the pull of Susan's arms and wondered what her friend wanted to do. Little by little she lowered her seething cunt against Susan's face, and then felt her friend's tongue lapping at her clitoris, and licking at Brummer's throbbing cock each time it pulled back.
Susan's tongue tickled Brummer's balls and lapped at the outer pink flesh of her friend's shuddering cunt. She lapped hungrily like a cow at a salt-lick. But lying as she was, her vagina was now exposed to Etta's mouth, and Etta hurriedly sank her face into the simmering depths of the pink lips surrounded by black hair.
Sparkling sensations were starting to build up in Etta's body, and she trembled back and forth, moving her body all the more rapidly, using her vaginal interior to suck on the length of throbbing cock thrust into her while Susan's tongue lapped at her inflamed, aroused clitoris. And all the while her own tongue sank deeper and deeper into Susan's simmering snatch. Golly! Susan tasted so good. She even fancied she could taste the meaty essence of Brummer's cock inside Susan's pussy.
Greater and greater sensations were mounting in her young, teenaged body. Brummer had a hand on her ass, and he was sinking a finger into the tightness of her asshole. He moved it in and out, keeping time with the way his thrusting cock was plunging into her swampy pussy. Thrills charged through her at a faster pace than ever as the slamming, punching, drilling cock sank farther and farther into her creaming cunt, and Susan's tongue continued massaging her clitoral extension. Sucking on Susan's vaginal softness enhanced the feelings even more. She lapped and humped her own body wildly back and forth, sweating, straining, feeling the orgasm inside her just waiting to come out.
And then, there it was, bubbling up and boiling over, slamming into her anguished body, making her tremble as she howled her lust into Susan's swampy interior.
"AAIYAGHHH!"
"No more, Edgar," she begged. "Please, please, please, I can't take it. Stop pumping into me. I'm ... uhhhhh ... ultra ... ahhhh ... sensitive ... OOOOH!!!"
Brummer tugged his swollen, sizzling phallus from inside the redheaded girl's constricted cunnus, and as she rolled out of the way, he sprawled on top of Susan, pressing his penis down into her throat, while his face sank into her shuddering pussy. His tongue leaped out and stabbed into her coral interior, slurping up a combination of her seeping oil and Etta's saliva. He licked his tongue through the depths of her pussy again and again, drinking her heavy flow of colorless wine, and Susan trembled with delighted thrills. Her mouth was clogged with his lancing cock, and she swallowed and sucked, thrilling to the feeling of his penis down her throat. Now it was no longer a question of loosening her gullet enough to take the entire thickness of his ramming cock. Now she had to tighten her gullet again and give him maximum feeling.
Brummer's hands were reaching way back, grabbing the girl's nipples, pulling on them, massaging them, making her buck wildly as his face sank deeper and deeper into her creaming muff. He lapped at her clit then stabbed his tongue into the inferno of her simmering pussy. The tongue wiggled its way deeper and deeper, rotating inside the creamy funnel of her draining temple.
Lord! Susan thought. Edwin Brummer was no one-shot charlie. He was building the fascinating feeling higher and higher in her body, and she realized, much as she hated him, she needed him. She was too young to go searching for other cocks. Oh Godddd! This one tasted so delicious.
Susan felt her climax mounting higher and higher, and each time she expected to hit the summit of her orgasmic mountain, she found herself having to climb a little higher. She sucked the pulsing cock all the more solidly, and realized she was about to have a monumental orgasm. It would totally eclipse everything she had ever felt, before.
The thrill was carrying her to greater and greater heights, and her mouth sucked all the more fervently on the heavy wang, trying to bring him off with her. She wanted his cock to shoot now. She wanted it badly. She realized she loved the taste of his semen. Maybe she would love the taste of all semen in years to come, but right now his was the only sperm she had drank, and she ached to swallow more of it. Her own feelings continued rising, higher, higher higher, and then it hit with all the power of a sun going into nova.
"UUCHUGGHH!" she gagged, her mouth crammed with cock as the total climax simply smashed into her, making her scream, buck, and bounce. Her cunt rose and fell, leaving the tender, loving sensation of his mouth and tongue. And then she yanked her mouth from the heavy wang and shouted, "EEYAAGGHH!" A second climax, and then a third slammed into her aching body, and she shouted them out, wondering if the loudness of her voice would shatter the frames on any of the paintings.
"You didn't make him come," Etta chastised. "He has to come, too."
"Why?" Susan asked, realizing now that she was satisfied she could take her revenge by doing absolutely nothing for Brummer. Maybe he would be able to get back at her later, but she was as spiteful and as vindictive as he, and seeing a chance to hurt the man, she was taking it. She grabbed her clothes and started dressing, knowing Brummer would not use the tapes to harm her because she was certain he would want to fuck her again.
But even as she walked into the bathroom to wash up, Etta, seeing the pained look on Brummer's face, bent over his supine body as it lay full length on the bed. She knew this was too cruel a punishment for any person. When Brummer started something with her, he always finished it. He never left her hanging. She had no intention of leaving him that way.
"See," Brummer gasped. "She hates me, and she'll always hate me. It's in her nature. But you don't hate me, Etta. You might not love me, but you don't hate me."
"No," she agreed. "I don't hate you, at least not anymore. How could I hate anyone who introduced me to all these wonderful feelings. Lie back and enjoy this."
She breathed on his stiff cock, making it stand up even taller. He moaned incoherently as her tongue licked out and slipped across it, washing off his drying lubricant and Susan's saliva. Then her oral digit moved lovingly over the head again and again, licking down the length of the underside, then licking up again, stopping only to wander through the curl-covered pelvis for a moment. Her tongue lapped across the top part of his pulsing cock, washing the glans again, then moving down to his balls, licking them with care and tenderness, covering the sac with warm, searing salivary juices. She felt his body shuddering and trembling, and she could see the way he could no longer remain still.
Her lips opened wide, and then ovally sheathed the head of the throbbing penis, enclosing it entirely in the warm, velvet clutch of her sucking mouth.
"Uunggh!" he gasped, fidgeting on the sofa as her mouth began massaging the trapped head. Her tongue wiped the stolid pole again and again while her hand fell and began massaging his doughy testicles. Her other hand gripped the base of his cock and began tugging rapidly. She knew she would never be able to fit the entire length of his throbbing phallus into her small mouth, but she could make sure all of his hard cock felt some sensation. Her mouth sucked the phallic dome with a precision kind of cadence, popping it in and out of her mouth as her hand continued jerking on his stiff rod, and her other hand kept squeezing his heavy testicles. Gosh! They felt heavier than ever. They must have really been loaded with sperm.
Lifting her mouth from the immense rod, she licked the underside with her tongue again, lapping all the way down to his balls and washing them repeatedly. Then her tongue once again rose to the top of his throbbing erection, and once more her lips wetly enclosed the hot, swollen head between her jaws.
"Unnhhh! God! God! God!" Brummer gasped, his body aflame with unsatisfied sensations.
Etta's mouth was too small for her to be the wild cocksucker Susan had proven herself to be. But considering the smallness of her mouth, she was doing a superb job. He knew he had guessed right when he'd said Etta was the one girl who would learn to like him.
Raising his head, he stared down at the redheaded girl's lust-contorted face. He could see she was actually enjoying what she was doing, and she wasn't merely doing it to please him. The sight of his throbbing cock, now pushed a third of the way between her rounded, ribboned lips increased the burning sensations in him tenfold. Now she pushed her face a little lower, sucking in half the rod, and then, as her hand continued stroking up and down, her mouth also began bobbing up and down.
Half his rigid cock length began disappearing into her mouth again and again as she worked to push even more of him into her sucking oral cave. She worked slowly, pushing her face down as far as it would go, taking as much of the thick member as she could into her mouth. It depressed her tongue and scraped her palate and she still loved it. It was the cock that had tamed her while bringing her untold pleasures many grown women never experience. Etta was wise enough for her years to realize how fortunate she was. In satisfying his own lusts with her, Edgar Brummer had turned the teenage girl into a truly sensuous woman. She was still growing, maturing, and developing, but sexwise she was far more advanced than women four or five times her age. And the most interesting part of it was, she was still innocent enough to believe there was absolutely nothing wrong in all this.
She slid her mouth as far as she could, feeling the bulb of his rounded tip press into her throat, and then she slowly lifted her mouth until only his corona was behind her teeth. As she sucked the inflated phallic spear, she could see his face looking at her, while he stared at her bobbing head. The lewd sight built unproportioned thrills in his groin and he hungered to feel his spunk shooting into her throat.
Etta continued furiously sucking him, and she could sense the heated swirls moving through his groin. She had him twitching and writhing now, totally out of control and beyond anything he had ever known. Every muscle in his body was tautly stretched, and Etta felt he would literally break. His hands flew up and tangled themselves in her hair, and he uncontrollably tried ramming her mouth even lower on his stabbing cock.
Etta heard him grunting and gasping as his body writhed even more wildly. She could tell he was no longer rational, and sensed the desire in him to completely cover her throat with his shooting seed. Suddenly she felt as if he was totally unaware of her identity. She was merely a receptacle for his cock and she would shortly be the container for his sperm. He was trying to ram the head of his thrusting cock into her gullet, and her tongue, on the underside of his throbbing cock, could feel the way her mouth was ready to accept the spewing contents of his shuddering cock.
"Gonna come! Gonna come!" he gasped. "Ohh Godddd! I can feel it. I can feel it. I'M GONNA COMEEE!"
Etta was totally overwhelmed with his need for satisfaction. She had always heard him speak in perfect English, before. He had never used a "gonna, coulda, shoulda, woulda," but he was using one now, the sensations in his body were so intense.
"AAYAIGGHH!" he screamed, a long, loud guttural groan tearing itself from deep inside his chest. He felt the first tearing away of heated semen from the moorings inside his testicles. He sensed the headlong rush of the seething goo as it moved along the tube in the underside of his aching cock. And it came spewing out from the slit in the tip of his penis, cascading into Etta's sucking mouth. He desperately humped his hips higher and higher. Her lips tightened around the throbbing, palpitating shaft, and her throat began sucking and gulping, sensing the incredible desperation of the semen to enter her gullet. His cock squirted hard and long, and for awhile it seemed as if his instrument would not sink. She continued sucking, moving her face lower and lower as his penis finally wilted.
And then his cock was empty. He was totally drained, and he lay there for a moment, just staring up at the ceiling.
"Did I do it all right?" Etta asked. "I mean, that's the first time I've ever done that."
"You were wonderful," he assured her. "And you justified my faith in you, just as Susan justified my faith in her."
"Don't hurt her," Etta begged.
"I?" Brummer asked. "Not I. In fact, here, in the night table drawer are all the videotapes. You can do what you will with them, but if I were you, I'd leave them there."
Chapter Ten
The local people threw a celebration two days later. Edgar Brummer was dead, and the people coming in to replace him had already promised to behave in a more moderate way. The man had developed cancer without knowing it, and by the time he had gone to a doctor, it was too late to operate.
Susan was happier than most, knowing she was no longer a slave to the one man who seemed to know her better than she knew herself. Etta was sad. She had felt sorry for Brummer, just as she had felt sorry for Susan when she had first befriended her. She was the only person who would miss Brummer.
Six months after Brummer's death, both Susan and Etta were asked to come to the heart of the community, to an attorney's office. The man had been Edgar Brummer's attorney. Neither girl ever remembered his name, and it was the only time either of them saw the man.
"I'll be brief," the attorney told them. "Mr. Brummer's will has just come out of probate, and the two of you are mentioned in it. I don't quite understand what it's all about, but Mr. Brummer left a substantial sum in a bank account to pay the taxes on his house for the next ninety-nine years. He claims Etta, the redheaded girl, may live in that house when she leaves her parents' home, later on. He feels since it's right next door to her father's house, she may want to live there."
"Yes," Etta nodded. "I suppose when I grow up, I would very much like to live there."
"And he says you're to have free use of the house even now, even though I have no idea what he means by that."
"I know," Etta told him.
"And he left a letter for you," the attorney said. "He claimed Susan would also be mentioned in the letter. It is to be read by the two of you, privately, so I'll step into the outer office while you read it."
Etta waited until the attorney was gone, then she tore open the envelope, and read the letter.
Dear Etta,
It is something of justice that I found you at the same time I learned I was going to die. I should hate to see my collection of art either destroyed or broken up, so I'm leaving it all to you, on the condition that, when you become of age, you seduce young boys in that same room the way I seduced you. And you are to go on doing this until you finally marry. You will marry, you know, you're much too precious a gem to be bypassed.
As for Susan. She is the female version of myself. I doubt that she will ever marry. She has no compassion, no feelings for others, and no warmth. She will need looking after. Therefore when she becomes of age, if she has nowhere else to go, she will be allowed to live in the house with you, but only under certain conditions. First, she is to be soundly whipped with a willow branch once a week until she is forty years old. Don't ask why. She'll deserve it. You'll see. Second, you are to use her if you have more than one male being seduced at a time. Her body is to be totally ravaged as much as possible. Although she will love being ravished at the time it is happening, she will hate it afterward, knowing it happened because I, in essence, reached out from the grave to make it happen.
If Susan does not agree to these terms, she is not to live in the house, nor is she to indulge in any of the sex festivities you will enjoy there over the years. In life, I was of no value to anyone, save to you. In death, I hope to be of value to an entire host of young men whom you will make happy because of me. Think kindly of me now and then,
EDGAR.
"That lousy rat," Susan snapped.
"Well I don't know about you," Etta told her, "but the idea of owning a house with no bills for the rest of my life sounds terrific. So I'm going to do what Edgar says. What about you?"
Susan looked at her for a moment, grimaced, then said, "Come on, let's get going."
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Etta asked.
"To find a willow tree with a lot of thin branches," Susan replied.
