Crazy For Rope
by Unknown


FOREWORD 

The bonds tightened at her wrists. 

Her cries had dwindled first to sobbing moans but even they had faded as the 
awesome hopelessness of her situation became more and more clear to her. 

Now, soft whimpers, constant but subdued, echoed throughout the great 
shadowed basement. 

Pipes old and rusted spanned the space above her. The ropes at her wrists 
were tied to those very pipes. 

Her naked body was warm, despite the winter snows that coated the ground 
outside. 

The boiler kept the entire place warm to the point that she was virtually 
sweltering. 

But she knew that would not last. 

It was the weekend. 

The school was closed. 

The heat would be turned off, conserving fuel. 

Soon, her naked body would be wracked with horrid tremors, shivering in the 
cold. 

And yet, compared to what she'd just endured, that would be a blessing. 

Compared to what was ahead, her worst fears were tame. 

She began to cry, and her body tingled with the pain of the beating she'd 
undergone. 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Snow covers the campus of Conrad J. Sapp Memorial High School. It is seven 
o'clock in the morning, and soon, despite the fact that it is winter and 
bitter cold out with a thick blanket of snow everywhere, the school will be 
alive with students and faculty. 

Now, one man makes his way through the corridors muttering softly to 
himself. 

Lars Svensen takes his job seriously. He'd better. Without him, there would 
be no school. It is his job to insure that the business of dispensing 
knowledge can proceed in relative comfort, whatever obstacles the elements 
might place in the way. 

Just now Svensen is checking the thermostats and pressure gauges of the 
giant boiler in the basement. Here, amid pipes and unpainted brick, he is at 
home. Here, he rules. Here, he spends the winter days in comfort. It is 
quite frankly, the warmest spot in school. And, due to the fact that no one 
in their right mind would ever want to go down there, it tends to be a place 
of perfect solitude, a place where he can escape the hassles up topside, the 
myriad problems and details that demand his attention. It's a big school. 
There's a lot of things that can go wrong. 

He's the Maintenance Engineer, and he performs his tasks with pride, and 
with a will oiled efficiency that make him, for the most part, invisible. 
They don't think about him unless something goes wrong. 

Things seldom go wrong. 

***** 

Julia Perkins looked in the mirror and saw Steve Randal's naked legs hanging 
over the edge of the bed. 

"Don't you think you ought to get a shower?" she asked. "It's getting late." 

He propped himself up and looked out the window. "Shit, they have to call 
off school, don't they?" 

"An optimist," she said from the bathroom, splashing water over her face. 
She would have taken a shower herself, but they'd spent the time fucking and 
now she had to content herself with this. Between her naked thighs, she felt 
his freshly cooked jism oozing back out between her still parted lips, 
flowing from the deepest parts of her pussy, where his throbbing cock had 
shot it only a few minutes earlier. 

"You want to take a shower with me?" he asked, finally pulling himself up 
off the bed and staggering into the bathroom. 

"Yes ... of course I do. But there's no time." 

"Woman, for God's sake, don't be such a tight ass." 

"Steve, you drove me crazy all night long and I'm going to babble like a 
deranged idiot in front of my students today because of it, and furthermore, 
I don't care. Does that sound like a tight ass?" 

His hands found her buttocks. 

They squeezed. He slid his fingers through the crack and down farther, 
between her legs now, sliding back into her juicy slit. Now that you mention 
it, no ... it doesn't feel all that tight. Of course, you just stretched 
pretty strongly, wouldn't you agree." 

She leaned back into him. "Mmmmm hmmmm. . " she purred, contentedly. "I 
couldn't agree more. What would our students say if they'd seen us last 
night?" 

"They'd look at us like we were from Mars, and then they'd go out and try 
the same thing. Now about that shower...." He slapped buttocks to punctuate 
his comment. 

Ouch! That hurt. No, I told you, I don't have time for a shower, not if you 
want breakfast." 

He turned on the water, let the jet form a cloud of steam in the tiny 
bathroom and said, "Forget breakfast. We'll stop at MacDonald's and get a 
couple Egg McMuffins." 

"Yech! Do you have any idea what they do to those eggs before MacDonald's 
gets their grubby hands on them " 

"No ... thank God. And don't you tell me. I'm one of those who firmly 
believes that research reports cause cancer, so beware." 

He turned to step into the shower. ""What about it? You gonna join me?" 

"Steve, I told you, there's no time. I'd have to dry my hair--! " 

She let out a scream as he bodily lifted her up over the edge of the bathtub 
and set her down beneath the jet of hot water, chortling hideously all the 
while like a Hungarian hunchback with whip in hand. 

"Did the lady really think she was going to escape my clutches? Ha ha. 
Foolish. Quite foolish indeed." 

She shrieked and then squealed, and then, as his hands moved over her body, 
she started to laugh from the tickling. And then, as his hands turned more 
serious and dropped down between her legs, the tickling turned to something 
far more intense, and the laughter turned to soft moans, and time suddenly 
didn't seem to make too much difference. 

***** 

"Hey!" cried Toni Francetti from the back seat of Wally-Joe Jordham's 
sixty-nine Chevy, "Watch it! You're getting ashes all over my sweater." 

"Yeah, well, that's not all I'd like to get all over that sweater," he 
muttered, forming one of the longer sentences that she'd heard him speak. 

"I know what you've got on your mind," she said. 

Bruce Madden, sitting next to her said "Shucks, Toni, we're just a bunch of 
healthy guys." 

"Yeah...." she said, pausing to take a hit on the joint, 'too healthy, if 
you ask me." 

"Shit," said Randy Hunsucker from the other her other side, "no one put a 
fucking gun to your head and made you ride with us." 

"Why, Randy," she said, mussing up his curly hair, "you're so cute when 
you're still half asleep." 

He took the joint from her and said, "Why don't you suck my cock, cunt." 

"I just might, fellow, if you treat me nice." 

Scott Nunlet belched. "Sounds pretty fucking complicated to me," he laughed, 
"but then I was always lousy at compromises." 

"Scott, you're just an uncouth ass-hole, that's all you are," she said to 
the boy riding shotgun in the front seat. 

"Yeah., well, when you finish with Randy, you can suck my whang." 

"Be patient, I'll get to you." 

Wally-Joe Jordham said, "Cool it, here comes Gayner." 

"Shit," was the universal reaction. Officer Blanchard Gayner. Highway 
Patrol, self-sworn nemesis of all students in possession of their own 
automobiles cruised slowly past in the black & tan with the blue dome on top 
for which he was noted and feared. 

"You get pulled by Gayner, you'd better have seventeen witnesses ready to 
swear in court you were somewhere else. That's the only way you'll get off," 
went the local lore. Not all that many people had actually met with his 
wrath, face to face, but those unfortunate few who had were more than enough 
to keep the legend alive. 

"Do you think he saw us smoking?" asked Toni, holding the joint down below 
the window. 

Wally-Joe stared impassively ahead. 

"Fucker can't see nothing," the boy said finally. "Car's too full of smoke." 

For some reason that calmed them. They were parked at a roadside rest-stop 
on Highway 40 out on the west side of town. They didn't look right, sitting 
there, and he knew that if he pulled up next to them, they'd all be pissing 
in their pants ... so he contented himself with cruising slowly past, noting 
the license number cruising back one more time and then leaving them to 
wonder what he was up to. 

"Fucking ass-hole," observed Scott Nunley, looking at his watch. "Shit, it's 
getting late. We're gonna have to get to school." 

"Fuck school," Randy Hunsucker observed, placidly, unzipping his pants and 
pulling his cock out. "I've got a date. You ass-holes can jerk off if you 
want." 

Wally-Joe turned around and watched Toni drop her head down into Randy's 
lap. 

"When he blows, you'd better not spill any on the seats. I just put them 
covers on." 

"Oh Christ, can it, will you?" Toni said. "You sound just like my mother." 

"Fuck your mother." 

"You probably could." 

That shut them up. 

She started to suck on Randy's cock, while the other three watched, getting 
horny. They figured that she'd take a while and they'd have to get to school 
by the time she was done, but after a moment or two her lips slurping up and 
down over Randy's cock, she started to make watery, liquid sounds, and then, 
she raised up off his cock. Her lips were wet with a thin coating of cum, 
and there was still a droplet or two on the tip of Randy's cock. 

Sheeeeeeeeiiiiiiit! You got yourself one powerful sensitive trigger there, 
boy," Scott Nunley jeered. 

"Fuck you. It's too early in the morning. Besides, if I was fucking, I'd 
have done it nice and slow, but I wasn't so what's the point." He looked at 
Toni who was licking the last of his cum from her lips. "Right sugar? You'd 
just as soon get it quick as wait for it, wouldn't you? " 

"Whatever you say, Randy darling." 

"Aw...." he muttered, looking out the window, dismissing the rest of them, 
as was his way, with his silence. 

Scott Nunley said "Well hell, I'm next, right. We got time. I'll make an 
exception this time and shoot fast ... like Randy." 

Randy shot him a bird, never bothering to glance up. How about some fucking 
music," he grumbled. 

Wally-Joe slipped a cassette into the slot and the sounds of a sharp guitar 
crashed over the speakers, effectively blotting out the sound Toni's mouth 
made slurping up Scott's cum, which was produced in approximately half the 
time it took for Randy's balls to blow, but Toni being discreet, sucked on 
the thing, even after it had gone soft, pretending that he lasted at least 
as long as Randy. Then, she winked at him, and, with a blob of his cum still 
on her lips, gave him a kiss. 

The guitar also muted the sound of his gagging. 

***** 

Polly Pritikin stepped from the front seat of her father's car. Her father 
said "You take care of yourself, darling," and she turned to give him a big 
kiss. "Thank you, Daddy. I couldn't stand the thought of walking today." 

"That's fine, Princess. Nothing's too much trouble for you." 

He grinned, and then he gunned the engine underneath the hood of the Coup 
Deville he drove for sport, and engine roughly the size of a small elephant. 
It succeeded only in spinning his back tires and digging a trench from which 
his car had no hope of escaping, wheels spinning fruitlessly over the smooth 
snow. 

"Aw ... shit," he muttered, giving his little girl a hurried grin, and then 
he got out to study the situation, not wanting to admit that he didn't have 
the faintest idea what to do. 

Polly saw Dick Wilson walking up Copeland street, a nap-sack slung casually 
over his shoulder, trudging through the snow like a pioneer wandering in 
from a few hard months of trapping. 

"Oh. Dick," she called, overjoyed to see him. Her father didn't quite 
approve of her dating anybody, but Dick, for some reason, bothered him more 
than most boys did, even though she'd assured him that it was love, and that 
he respected her enough to wait till they were married. 

Her daddy couldn't forget the rubber that had fallen out of Dick's wallet on 
their first meeting, however. 

"Sonofabitch wasn't carrying that around waiting for a water-balloon fight, 
I can tell you that." 

"Oh ... Daddy," Polly had sighed. 

Now, Mr. Pritikin's eyes narrowed, and he watched Dick approach. "What's 
up?" the boy asked. 

"Daddy's stuck in the snow." 

"Aw, shucks, that's no problem," said, Dick, an Eagle Scout who was always 
prepared. 

Sure enough, he reached in to his sack and pulled out a small paper bag and 
said "You just get on back in the car. Mr. Pritikin, and I'll have you out 
of here in a jiffy. Don't gun the engine too hard now." 

"What the hell you got there?" 

"Just trust me, Mr. Pritikin. It'll work." 

He would have argued with the boy longer, but he was already late, and he 
knew that the bank would never be able to function without him. otherwise, 
he'd have stayed right where he was and demanded that the lad justify 
himself ... but as it was, he climbed back into the huge automobile and said 
"Okay, kid, do your stuff." 

Dick sprinkled a layer of dry sand out of the paper sack beneath both of the 
back tires, extending the sand until it reached the freshly plowed road. 

"There you go, sir," he said, smiling sharply, "that should hold you." 

Dubiously, Mr. Pritikin eased off the brake and eased on the gas pedal, and 
to his amazement, and relief, the tires grabbed and moved the hulking 
behemoth forward. 

"Sonofabitch," he muttered, then, rolling the window down, he gruffly tossed 
off a quick "Much obliged," and took off down the road. 

Polly and her beloved stood there in the road watching. Then Steve turned to 
Polly. 

She sighed, hearts surging out of her breast and filling the air around 
them, cartoon fashion. "My hero," she mooned. 

"You know ... your old man ... even for an ass-hole he's pretty fucking 
pathetic." 

"I know," Polly agreed. "We keep hoping they'll find a drug, but I'm getting 
discouraged." 

"Understandable. If this was a fair and just society, we'd make provisions 
for his kind to be humanely shot." 

He put his arm around Polly, and, laughing, they crossed the parking lot to 
Conrad J. Sapp Memorial High School, walking towards their home room class 
which they both shared. 

Polly was wondering what she'd wear at the wedding 

Dick was trying to figure out a new way to make her put out. A perfect 
affair. 

As they wandered into the building, they saw old Mr. Svensen puttering past, 
a large pipe wrench in his hand. 

"Make sure the heat's working, Mr. Svensen," Dick called out merrily. "Don't 
want to freeze my gonads off." 

Polly slapped Dick on the shoulder. "You shouldn't talk like that in 
public," she scolded, indignantly. 

Svensen looked up and said "Ya, but I be there the working for the make ... 
over and over ya!" 

He laughed, puttering on his merry way, oblivious to the fact that he still, 
after some fifteen years in this country, hadn't come close to cracking the 
secret of English. 

***** 

Conrad J. Sapp Memorial High School, a medium sized institution in a 
medium-sized city in a medium-sized state. Which state isn't important., it 
could even be your state ... perhaps, you might even recognize some of the 
players thus far introduced in our sordid tale of degradation. 

Degradation? You ask, what degradation? 

A good question, for the story has yet to begin it's development. We've 
witnessed only the opening movements of the participants, unaware that they 
are linked together in a common experience that will change the very fabric 
of their lives. 

We've watched their waking rituals, watched them stumbling out into the 
daily world and begin what they think will be just another day. 

But they are wrong. Already event's have been set in motion, like a first 
small disturbance in a snow bank sending a drift sliding down towards the 
unsuspecting valley below, gathering momentum until it avalanches over them 
without warning. 

***** 

"So what about it, Toni," said Scott Nunley. anxiously, "you want to go out 
and get drunk with us tonight?" 

She giggled. 

"Scott, you mean you don't have a real date?" 

"Aw, you don't have to be like that, Toni," said Randy. "We're glad to go 
out with you." 

"Sure you are, fellows, so long as it's along a dark road somewhere." 

Wally-Joe, a huge silent mountain of a man pried himself out from behind the 
steering wheel and said "Got us some acid." 

Toni was tempted. 

"Can't do it." she finally said. "Maybe you boys don't have any dates on a 
Friday night, but I happen to have one that's going to be very, very hot." 

Whistles, hoots and derisive jeers greeted that. 

Then Scott said "Really?" 

She smiled. "Ta-ta, boys. It's been a LOAD of fun, but I've got to get to 
class. You all be good, now, hear?" 

She walked away from them, feeling their eyes burning into her ass as she 
made certain to wiggle it from side to side in a manner that some said 
should have torn her legs out of joint. 

She hadn't been lying about a hot date. She was going to spend the weekend 
up at Rollins College, with J.R. Rodgers, ex-B.M.C.C. here at Conrad J. Sapp 
Memorial High School, and now a sophomore up at the big college in the big 
city, and she was looking forward to it. Looking forward to getting 
someplace where a healthy desire for cocks didn't automatically relegate her 
to the species "WHORE" and leave her with only Wally-Joe Jordham and his 
cronies for male companionship. Whatever else you could say about them (and 
there was lots to be said, most of it bad) they had cocks, and they knew how 
to use them. And they had no qualms about using them on her, which suited 
her just fine. She was mature for her age, she'd started to sprout tits at 
the tender age of ten, and by the age of fourteen they were firm and round 
and now that she was a senior and they were still growing, she was convinced 
that she'd been given a special mission in life. Just what it was, remained 
unclear, but she knew instinctively that the time she spent sucking cocks 
and riding them buried in her cunt was all moving her in some small way, 
towards that calling. And anyway, it felt good. 

***** 

"Pssst " said Dick, in home room, leaning across the aisle. 

Polly, studious, didn't like him calling attention to either herself, or the 
fact of their relationship and so she tried to ignore him. 

"Psssssst!" he repeated, louder this time. 

She turned to him, eyes flashing. "Would you calm down!" 

He tossed a note onto her desk. She blanched and quickly slipped it into her 
composition book. Note-passing was severely discouraged. 

But as soon as she ascertained that the homeroom teacher. Miss Perkins, 
wasn't watching, she pulled it back out and read-Is it my imagination, or 
are there some really heavy welts running down Miss Perkins' back? 

She shoved it into her composition book again. 

She stared straight ahead. That was the biggest problem with Dick. He kept 
thinking about sex all the time, and she was starting to fear that he was 
going to look elsewhere. She didn't know how much longer he'd put up with 
hand jobs. If only he wouldn't keep springing sexual comments on her. It 
just wasn't fair. It wasn't polite. If he was a gentleman, he most certainly 
wouldn't be that way. She felt an anger building inside her which caused her 
to keep her head forward, ignoring him. That would show him, she thought. 
That would show him that he couldn't! Hmmm ... now that he mentioned it ... 
there were indeed some strange looking marks, dimly visible through Miss 
Perkins' White blouse. Polly doubted seriously that the teacher realized her 
blouse was a thin a material as it was, or surely she would not have worn 
it. 

Dick was always making jokes about the way she would look tied up ... about 
how much he'd get a kick out of it. 

"You're awful to her Dick," she'd protested, finding Miss Perkins a gentle, 
graceful teacher who most certainly would not permit herself to suffered the 
indignities that Dick spun out in his fantasies. 

"Yeah, well, check her out for rope burn sometime," he'd said. 

She'd ignored him ... but now, after a second glance at the woman's back, 
finding the crisscross matrix of faint red lines showing through the 
material to be impossible to discount (whips and chains and handcuffs and 
spikes and clamps and needles and all those other awful things she'd seen 
when she stole her daddy's catalogue from the top of his closet and 
masturbated looking at it now popped into her mind) and she turned her 
attention to the lady's wrists. 

The blouse she wore was long-sleeved, of course, but once when Miss Perkins 
walked past, handing out an announcement sheet, Polly had stolen a quick, 
furtive glance at the lady's wrists, and, sure enough, just as Dick had 
predicted, there was a dark red band showing just past the edge of the 
sleeve, a mark that Miss Perkins hastily pulled her sleeve down to cover 
when she saw Polly's eyes pulled in that direction. 

Polly quickly looked away. 

She felt a strange sensation between her thighs. 

An itch. She pressed her thighs together harder ... and then, by flexing the 
uppermost muscles, again and again, rapidly, as rapidly as she was able, she 
felt a series of shivering sensations starting to delve into the depths of 
her body ... homing in, particularly, on the hardening berry of her clit. 

She was only half aware of the movement of her thigh muscles ... only half 
aware that images of naked women in ropes were now starting to seep into her 
mind.... 

She knew only that she felt strange ... that she felt ... hot ... hotter 
than should be the case, even with the heater running full-bore. 

Her body began to tingle ... she increased the movement of her thighs to the 
point that she could feel violent tremors starting to shake her. 

But they were invisible to anyone watching her. 

She looked, as she always looked to the casual observer, like a typical 
prim, proper, studious young lady. 

Her pussy juices flowed from inside her cunt. She felt her body expanding 
... felt herself growing light headed. 

And then the bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom. 

She snapped to attention, realized, sheepishly, what activity had occupied 
her for the past two or three minutes, and looked around furtively to see if 
anyone else knew. 

Obviously, they'd remained oblivious to her behavior, which was why she 
indulged herself in it so often. 

But it would have been nice if she'd been able to come. 

She'd been close too, there was no doubt about that. 

Her panties were sticking now to the outer lips of her cunt ... they felt 
wet ... no, saturated was more like it. Damn, that meant that her cunt was 
going to freeze going to her next class. Mr. Randal's history class. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Julia Perkins sat at her desk, feeling strangely hollow inside. 

She'd just come back from the teacher's lounge, where she'd given her back a 
close study in the mirror and saw, to her horror, a pattern of red marks 
showing, if not clearly, than at least enough to create curiosity. 

In such as Polly Pritikin. She'd been looking! 

She'd known! 

How had she known? Was it that obvious? Did the whole student body know? 

She had an image of Henry Scroggins, the principal, calling her into his 
office, clearing his throat with a labored "Harumph!" or two and then, 
edging sideways into the topic, as was his only way, fumbling the question. 

"What's the story here. Miss Perkins?" 

"What story is that, Mr. Scroggins?" 

"Eh?" Peering here over the top of his glasses at her, pausing to wipe the 
beads of sweat from his forehead that always seemed to congregate there, 
trying to do something intelligent with what hair remained on his head and 
failing miserably, maybe stroking the pencil-thin moustache that looked, 
actually, like it had been penciled on.... 

She shivered. 

PERVO-TEACHER BOUNCED!! ! ! Sin Mistress Sent Packing! 

She saw the headlines racing past her eyes, shivered again, and then decided 
that paranoia would get her absolutely no where. 

But it was sad that what had been a spectacular night with a spectacular 
lover was now something that she might have cause to regret. 

They'd only made love one other time ... and both times had been sheer bliss 
... and she'd decided after last night that Steve Randall would be welcomed 
in her bed any time he wanted. 

She'd never let a man tie her up on the first date before, but with Steve, 
it had seemed, somehow, appropriate. And he just happened to have those silk 
scarves lying on the table beside his bed that night when she'd gone back to 
his house with him, and in the course of what turned out to be a marathon 
fuck, he'd held her hands down behind her head, restraining her in that 
awful frightening and utterly delicious way that she craved and could never 
admit., and she'd lost her mind, of course and found herself gasping between 
tortured breaths "tie me ... tie me ... tie me...." 

And he'd obliged, carefully knotting each wrist with a scarf tying the other 
end to the bed-posts.... 

And she'd writhed in delicious bondage ... writhed and struggled to the 
limits of her endurance, and he'd been perfect, keeping the tension at a 
fever-pitch, yet making certain he never pushed her irrevocably over the 
edge ... driving her mad but not scaring her permanently. 

His tongue ... licking over her breasts, up the side of her neck, down the 
side of her body, down ... down ... down. . 

Nestling between her thighs, licking over the surface of her slit . .keeping 
right on the surface ... carefully ... OH, so carefully.... 

She felt shivers racing up her backbone now just thinking about it. 

She wondered if marks had shown from that first night, two weeks ago. 

She'd worn a long-sleeved shirt that day too., but she wore them often 
anyway. 

Surely no one would have seen, would they? 

She couldn't imagine ... the idea was too horrifying. Teachers weren't 
allowed to be people. They weren't paid to be people, and the thought of 
some of her outside activities mixing with her school persona.... 

"NO!" she cried out in the silence of her classroom. It couldn't be. 

Yet ... today there'd been that undeniable look in Polly Pritikin's eyes. 

There'd been a knowing glance down at her wrists. The girl had seen the 
marks on her back ... she'd looked ... she'd known where to look. Christ, it 
was enough that she'd known to look at all.... 

How? 

How could it have been allowed to happen? More to the point how could the 
damage be reversed? Repaired? Was it possible? 

She closed her eyes and despite her fears ... despite the murky sludge of 
panic that was accumulating in her stomach, certain sounds and images forced 
their way into her brain. 

Moans. 

Screams. 

Gasps. 

Cries. 

Cries of pain. 

Delicious ... hot ... searing ... magnificent pain. 

Perfectly applied. OH GOD STEVE!! " Her voice there. 

Her fists clenched now, clenched as they'd done again and again last night 
... clench against nothing ... against the air ... clenched in pain ... and 
finally clenched around the throbbing shaft of his cock 

OH GOD STEVE!! ! " 

Her voice sounded strange in her memory. Had that been her? Legs splayed on 
the bed ... ankles and wrists tied to each of her bedposts. 

""You bastard, 's he said, "you didn't bring your scarves." 

"I was certain we could improvise with your clothing drawer ... I mean, 
don't women always have soft silky things that can double as ropes and the 
like?" 

"I think something can be arranged," she'd replied. 

And walked as fast as she could without appearing like an eager school-girl 
to her dresser and pulled out several pairs of nylons. 

"They look new," Steve observed. 

They'll do fine," she assured him. 

"Mmmmm," he'd nodded, appreciatively How many had they used? She couldn't 
remember. 

She remembered only the endless, timeless ecstasy. 

Straining against the bonds. 

Uselessly. 

Agonizingly. 

Wondrously. 

"Oh Jesus "Steve. 's he'd cried, feeling something she'd never felt before. 
And it had been so deceptively simple. 

A small, fine-tipped camel-hair paint brush. Such as would come in a child's 
watercolor kit. 

She couldn't shake the sensations that brush had raised over her clitoris. 

Legs spread firmly, no way open to her to prevent him from doing it as long 
as he desired, she'd been forced to endure it ... for an hour ... two ... 
three...? She didn't know. 

He traced a path around the edges of her clit for an eternity. 

Occasionally he would let the point glide over the surface of her clit. and 
more rarely he would brush it over the exposed tip. 

She rapidly reached a point where each stroke sent thundering shock waves 
racing through her body. 

Muscles tightened like screws ... goose-bumps broke out across her skin like 
a rash. 

When she was thoroughly deranged, he stopped. 

He placed his forefinger of his left hand on one side of her clit. His thumb 
of the same hand he placed on the other side of her clit, directly across 
from his finger 

So that a line passing from one to the other would form a perpendicular 
angle with the central axis of the shaft of her swollen clitoris. 

He closed his thumb against his finger, lightly at first, but constantly, 
steadily increasing the pressure until she could actually feel the shape of 
her clit starting to distort. 

She gasped. 

She cried out. 

And then, awed by the enormity of the sensations triggered, she fell silent. 

He pinched, released, built the pressure again ... released ... built the 
pressure again.... 

She slowly drew near the precipice. 

She knew that beyond lurked a realm that she'd never allowed full expression 
within herself, but which she'd always known was there. 

She knew that he was pushing her there ... that he wanted to hold her at the 
edge as long as he could, dangling her over the nothingness of the abyss 
within her, and then, when she was completely mad, let her fall. 

And laugh as she screamed the long infinite spiral down ... down ... 
down.... 

To what? 

To the truth that she kept even now locked inside her. 

She'd allowed herself to be tied and tortured. Tortured with a velvet-gloved 
hand, but tortured nonetheless 

She'd allowed it ... and she'd loved it. 

He finished with her clit, and moved on. There were always higher plateaus 
to be attained. 

His belt had sent her up through several levels of sensation. 

"Oh Steve, no, she'd whispered, watching him remove it from his pants, 
coiling it slowly around his hand with a methodical, almost machine-like 
precision. 

He'd raised his hand ... let the free end hang there ... let it dangle in 
the space above him. limp, harmless almost flaccid. 

Then, his arm lashed out his hand descended and the leather strap bit into 
her cunt slit. 

A single stroke. 

A single flash of pain, like the flash of a nuclear fireball. It only takes 
one, after all. 

And by the time he'd flipped her over onto her stomach and began to whip her 
back, she'd been passive enough that it wasn't necessary to tie her hands 
and ankles back. 

She'd have laid right there in that same position and absorbed each blow 
willingly for as long as he cared to deliver them. 

And now Polly Pritikin knew ... or at least suspected, and Julia Perkins was 
convinced that she'd never be able to see Steve Randall again. 

She wanted to cry. 

***** 

"I'll be back in a moment, Polly. Just make yourself comfortable, all 
right?" 

He'd made certain that she had no important class this period, apologized 
for having to leave her and then, he'd left her. 

Steve Randall was worth the wait, thought Polly, sitting in the silence of 
the classroom. He apparently had no class this period either. 

Hmmmm ... she thought, rapidly abandoning that line of thought before any 
serious images could coalesce from the steam and fog of her itching cunt 
membranes. 

She shook her head. Was she thinking about her cunt again? 

My ... that was getting to be a habit. Maybe she was going to have to give 
dear old Dick Wilson what he wanted after all, not for his sake ... but for 
hers 

She tapped her foot. 

She hummed. 

She glanced out the window 

She tapped her foot some more. 

She glanced at her watch and finally she stood up and walked over to the 
door to look out. 

No sign of him. 

Well ... she could be studying, perhaps, but she really didn't mind killing 
time once in a while during school hours Mr. Randall wanted to discuss her 
term paper with her. That could be good ... that could be bad. She wondered 
which. As usual, he gave no clues beneath that incredibly good looking face 
of his. 

She glanced over at his desk and found herself seized with an urge that 
strikes all students at one time or other ... but which few have an 
opportunity to act upon.... 

It had no direction ... it was not a goal-oriented activity. 

It was simple curiosity that drove her ... caused her to reach her hand out 
... fingers trembling a bit there, that's all right, a little caution and 
nervousness makes you careful, right? 

Heh heh. 

She pulled the top drawer open. 

What she thought she would find remained an indistinct blur in her 
subconscious. 

Perhaps she'd always known that a teacher's desk would contain nothing but 
the boring artifacts of what had to be a boring job. 

Erasers, paper-clips, pencils, a couple pads of the dreaded "pink-slips" 
which condemned a recalcitrant student to that long trek up to Henry 
Scroggins office, there perhaps to finally learn once and for all if there 
was or was not an "electric paddle". ... 

She saw the grade book but remained unmoved by it. 

She was looking for more significant treasure. What she couldn't have said. 
Just some proof that the human she was certain lurked behind that placid, 
teacherly ambivalence was no figment of her imagination. 

She closed the top drawer and opened one of the side drawers. 

Briefcase ... rubber boots.... 

Nah! Even an android could own those articles 

The other side now ... sliding open the drawer.... 

Just about the time she heard the door knob turn. 

Her heart did its John Phillip Sousa Bass Drum impression and adrenalin 
surged into he blood like the spring thaw. 

Somehow, she wasn't sure how, the drawer managed to be closed, and she 
managed to be IN her seat when Mr. Randall walked back into the room. It is 
possible that a peeping Tom looking in the window would have been unable to 
state for certain that he'd actually seen her move across the room ... 

It felt to her as if she'd simply materialized in her desk, but of course 
that was ridiculous, and there was this heavy breathing going on that 
suggested activity of a strenuous nature- 

"Polly, are you all right?" 

"YES!! " she said, noting to her dismay that the words came rushing out in a 
labored gasp. 

Her face was white. 

He frowned, his eyes instinctively dropped to the desk top, he smothered a 
small grin and then said, "Well, sorry I was so long, but I had to talk to 
Henry Scroggins, and I'm sure you know how long it takes to get through a 
conversation with him, no matter what you're talking about...." 

And he kept talking and finally the subject came around to her paper and she 
must have sounded coherent and done all the right things because she walked 
out of the room with three pages of notes which, when she looked them over 
later, comprised a series of extremely helpful suggestions on the part of 
Mr. Randall, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember the first thing 
about the conversation. 

In fact ... all she could think about for the rest of the day was the 
picture that she'd seen in that drawer, glanced at for just a second but 
which remained etched indelibly on her brain. 

A woman, naked ... bound ... ropes at her wrists and ankles ... a rope 
pulled between her legs so tight it vanished between her lips ... so tight 
it actually had pulled her up OFF the ground.... 

And the itching in her cunt grew. 

***** 

"Nan! We'll get caught." 

"No we won't " Toni Francetti said a. she gripped Dick Wilson's hand 
tightly, leading him into the locker room. 

"Toni I was just kidding." 

"You should know better than to kid with me, Stevie," she said, looking him 
straight in the eye. She liked Dick, and, for his part, he seemed to like 
her. 

Though what that might mean to their association beyond the realm of quick 
trips to the locker room such as this, she couldn't say. 

About as much as Bowery bums meant to Rockefeller, probably. 

She dropped to her knees and reached for his zipper. 

"Toni," said Dick, half laughing, half scared, "What if someone comes." 

"Someone will come, Dick darling. You. Maybe me, if we get real daring." 

"Dick, don't argue with me. My mind's made up." 

She pulled his cock from inside his pants. 

"So, it would appear, is yours," she said, letting her fingers run along the 
stiff shaft. "You're hung like a horse, you know that?" 

"Last time, you said it was a mule." 

"So, you've grown. Next time it'll be a buffalo. What are we going to do, 
talk about similes, or am I going to...." 

She couldn't finish the sentence, but Dick got a pretty good demonstration 
of what she might have said had she bothered to do so. 

Her mouth opened and her lips, curled over the edges of her teeth to keep 
from hurting him, not as a gesture of consideration so much as one of 
precaution-guys tended to cry out when teeth scraped over their sensitive 
glands. 

She let the thing slide all the way in her mouth. 

It was a beaut-no doubt about that. Firm ... thick, wide ... a cock her cunt 
would welcome any day. 

And, in fact, it had once, though they'd both been so drunk they'd been 
forced to take the word of observers that they'd in fact coupled. 

Now, she was content to just suck ... and lick ... and rub his balls with 
her finger . He started to moan. 

"Mmmmm," she cooed. "Don't come yet," she told him. 

"Don't worry, darling." Dick assured her, I'm in control here." 

"Yeah? I've heard that before." She stood up. 

"Hey, said Dick, "you got me all hot and now you're ... oh ... I see..." 

She pulled her skirt up, looking around to make sure they were still alone, 
and as she pulled the crotch piece of her panties aside, she gripped his 
cock and placed the head against her slit. 

"God," he muttered, "you're wet. Are you ALWAYS horny?" 

"Is there any other way to be horny?" she asked with a straight face, and 
then wrapping one leg around his thighs and bracing herself on her other 
legs and her hands which pressed down on his shoulders she started to work 
him in. 

Oh. Jesus honey," she said, 'this is fine. This is really fine." 

He had a dazed look on his face. 

"You there Dick? Huh, boy? You with me there?" He smiled. 

"Yeah," he said, distantly. 

"Good. I'd hate to lose something as sweet as you, especially at a time like 
this." 

She pressed her hips against his body and the rigid shaft between them 
plunged on deeper into her cunt. 

Her lips spread around it enclosing the shaft pressing against it. squeezing 
it ... as did her walls and the soft inner membranes, saturated now with her 
juices which flowed at an ever increasing rate. 

"Oh yeah, oh yeah," she whimpered, shuddering her hips through one quick 
spasm after another, letting the friction carry her higher, driving her into 
that sublime state too far from which she never wanted to stray. 

He started to pump with her now, meeting her hips with his own, matching her 
thrust for thrust, pulling back when she did, thrusting forward at the same 
time.... 

They met and danced together in the way, frozen in their one spot, 
clandestinely carving a small space for themselves out of the day's normal 
flow, forgetting where they'd come from ... where they would be returning in 
a matter of minutes, content merely to attain whatever pleasure was there at 
the present. 

In. 

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

In and out and in and out and in and out ... and now she was moaning, and 
now he was gasping and now their bodies were pounding against each other, 
thundering surfaces slamming into harsh contact bouncing off, returning, 
loving it craving it ... 

She felt his cock spill its load. She was close herself ... close enough 
that she decided to try ... hoping that the thing would stay hard ... just 
hard enough. 

She didn't need much. Grinding her hips and forcing his cock to scrape over 
her clit, she felt the sensations mount ... filling her ... expanding her 
body, her sensitivity ... her mind ... expanding her as air expands a 
balloon, stretching it harder and harder pushing it closer and closer to its 
limits.... 

She grabbed his fingers and jammed them down between her thighs, forcing 
them over her clit. 

That was the pin in the balloon. 

"OHHHHHH!! " she cried before Dick grabbed her head and forced her to bury 
her mouth in his sweater muffling her cries. 

She came in an agonized series of contractions shivering against him until 
at last she was totally spent. 

So was his cock. 

She pulled back, readjusted her clothing and tucked his wet cock into his 
pants, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and said "Loved it," and was gone. 

Dick stood there, a comical expression on his face, the kind you'd associate 
with a pre-frontal lobotomy patient AFTER surgery.... 

And then he wandered out, not quite sure how all that had come to pass not 
questioning it, certainly not regretting it. 

And the locker room was empty again. 

Well ... not quite empty. 

They'd never been alone, you see. 

And now, pipe wrench clutched firmly in hand. Svensen shambled out from 
behind one of the shadowed nooks,-likewise dazed, muttering to himself, eyes 
wild, cock bulging mightily in his pants. 

He retired hastily to his sanctum sanctorum amid the pipes and the tools and 
the unpainted concrete walls and the boilers and heater , back in his room, 
a room perhaps no one else was aware of and there, he opened a drawer and 
removed a magazine with pictures of naked women suffering varying degrees of 
abuse and, of course, loving it. for they all loved it, and as he studied 
each picture lovingly, he masturbated like a demented chimp till he spilled 
his sperm on the hard, concrete floor. 

And then, magazine still clutched in his hands he sat in a chair a long 
while in isolation 

 CHAPTER THREE 

"You're not serious!" Randy Hunsucker almost shouted. 

"I m always serious, boy," Dick Wilson retorted. They were both drying off 
from their shower after phys ed class. The locker room was alive with the 
smells of sweat and soap and Right Guard aerosol deodorant. 

"You're bullshitting "Randy said. 

"Nope." 

"Aw shit! Right there in the locker ? " 

"Yep." 

"Nah!" 

Dick nodded. 

Randy slammed his fist into the metal door. "I fucking don't believe it." 

"You might as well, boy. It happened, just like I said it did." 

"No ... right in the lockers?" 

"You're repeating yourself Randy." 

"I just fucking don't believe it." 

"She did it. Pulled up her dress, pulled the sweet frillies aside and 
slipped me right in." 

"Damn." 

Randy looked at Dick in silent awe. "That whore."" 

"Nah. She ain't no whore." 

"The hell she ain't." 

"Whore ll charge you for it. She does it free. She s just a slut." 

"Oh yeah ... right. " 

Randy slipped into his jockey shorts, pulled his jeans on and turned to the 
mirror to comb his hair. 

"Damn ... pussy in the middle of the day! That's one that cunt owes me. All 
I could get her to do this morning was blow me." 

"You're kidding!? You mean she gave you a blow-job today?" 

"Yep. Me and Nonley." 

"Yech! I think I kissed her." Randy laughed. "Yeah. Well ... how'd you like 
it." 

"I'm gonna puke." 

"That's not a bad idea. Just don't get any on my shoes all right." 

"Asshole." 

"Fuckstick." 

"Shitball" 

"Bite it." 

"Up yours." 

"Screw you ... oh hey, you do your algebra homework?" 

"Yeah ... what s it to you?" 

"I want to copy it, for Christ's sake! Quit being difficult!" 

***** 

Polly's head was reeling. She was almost afraid to let her mind settle on 
the images that hovered in the space about her like a swarm of mosquitoes. 

Ropes.... 

Chains.... 

Leather straps.... 

Straps used for other things ... Straps like the strap her mother used to 
use on her.... 

Straps biting into her skin.... 

Straps wrapped tightly about her wrists.... 

Harsh straps.... 

Tight ropes. 

Digging into her flesh.... 

"You all right Polly?" 

She jumped at the echoed sound of the girl's voice. 

They were in the rest room outside the Home Ec kitchen, a high ceilinged, 
tile-walled room that bounced words back and forth for long seconds after 
they were spoken. 

It was June Taylor. Polly hadn't even heard her come in. 

"Polly," the girl said again. "Are you all right?" 

"Yeah...." said Polly, embarrassed. She'd been standing in front of the 
mirror and hadn't even been aware of anything at all ... just standing 
there, thinking ... fantasizing. 

"You SURE you're all right?" 

"Yeah, sure. Sure. I'm just feeling a little sick, that's all." 

"Well come on I'll take you to the clinic," said June ever the mother 
ever-ready to help. 

"No. Please. I'm just going to stay here for a moment. Splash a little water 
over my face ... I'll be all right." 

June gave her a skeptical look, tended to her business and then walked back 
out casting another dubious glance in Polly's direction. 

"I'll tell Miss Wembley that you're not feeling well and that you'll be a 
little late for class." 

"June," said Polly, annoyed now "just be nice and don't try to help. I don't 
need any help ... all right?" 

"Sure. Sure " 

The girl was miffed. Polly could tell. No matter. 

She could handle June later. 

Right now ... right now ... there were other things to tend to. 

She moved toward one of the stalls, closed the latch behind her and stared 
down at the toilet seat. 

She had never done what she was about to do., not at school, at any rate. 

But there was nothing she could do to avoid it ... not now. 

She wasn't sure what was happening, but the thoughts that were racing 
through her mind were too intense for her to ignore. 

She'd missed the entire lecture in Miss Perkins' English class last period. 
Nothing had made sense. Nothing at all. 

And she knew what the trouble was. She was still thinking about Mr. Randall 
... about that magazine she'd seen in the drawer ... and about the red marks 
she'd seen on Miss P. during home room. When Polly had gone back to Miss 
Perkins' class later that day for English, her teacher had put a sweater on, 
even though Mr. Svensen seemed to have the heat turned up high ... so high, 
she'd almost think that the man wasn't even paying any attention to the 
thermostat. 

But Miss Perkins had kept her sweater on all period long ... and when she'd 
walked past Polly's desk, the woman had steadfastly refused to look her in 
the eye. 

She'd acted almost nervous. 

Almost ashamed. 

Guilty. 

Polly knew what that meant. There was no doubt in her mind what that meant. 

She'd seen something this morning in homeroom the lady hadn't wanted anyone 
to see. and now.... 

Now what? 

Polly couldn't carry out her line of reasoning to any kind of logical 
conclusion. 

What did it all mean ... Steve Randall and his unbelievable pictures.... 

Miss Perkins and the telltale marks on her body ... ? 

What did it mean? 

For Polly it meant one thing and one thing only, whether or not she was able 
to understand it. 

It meant that there was a fire in her cunt a fire that had to be quenched. 

Flames raged within her. 

She sat down on the toilet seat letting the hem of her skirt rise up to her 
waist. 

She closed her eyes, refusing to think about what she was doing. 

Scrawled across the inside of the stall was the standard epigram-Smile: 
You're On Candid Camera. 

Right. Well, if that's so, she hoped they got themselves a good show, and 
that they got their rocks off on this ... because even if she had believed 
it true, she wouldn't have stopped. 

Her fingers moved between her thighs now. She touched her crotch. The 
material was wet. Drenched. 

She ran her fingers lightly over the surface of her cunt slit, pressing 
gently into the soft membranes, crossing the already tight surface of her 
clit. 

She sucked in a deep breath to keep from crying out. The sensation was too 
intense. Too hot. Too powerful. 

Yet, she was compelled by it. 

Unable to stop. 

Once she felt those first delicious sensations rippling up her back bone, 
shivering out of the depths of her pussy, she knew that she was locked into 
this, until whatever conclusion presented itself. 

From one of the large sinks, water dripped steadily. 

The sound echoed slightly, forming a constant underlying rhythm in the room, 
a counterpoint to the steady motion of her fingertips. 

She pulled her panties aside. 

like fragrant petals freshly blossoming, her cunt lips parted away from each 
other. 

She slid her fingertip down the slit between them. 

Her clitoris peeked through, hard, throbbing, pulsating. 

The surface was taut, stretched from the volume of blood that now engorged 
it. She gasped. 

She let out a small moan, not thinking about what she was doing. 

Was there anyone in the rest room with her? 

Suddenly, paranoia seized her. She couldn't control herself. 

She knew that she was risking discovery, but again another moan slipped from 
her lips. 

Harder now, running her fingers up and down through the depths of her slit, 
crossing them back and forth over her clit ... pressing down ... harder ... 
harder.... 

The edge of her fingernail now scraped over the tingling surface of her hard 
bud of nerves. She gasped again, cried out loudly. She shuddered. 

Muscles in her arms and legs began to move purely of their own accord. 

She rose up through succeeding levels of passion and arousal. 

like vines snaking around her brain, fingers of lust slowly encircled her 
thoughts, slowly tightened their grip, till she was a helpless prisoner. 

She slipped her fingers up inside her cunt now ... spreading the sweet cunt 
hole wider and wider and wider. 

Back and forth over her clit ... catching the tight berry of lust between 
her forefinger and thumb, pinching it ... squeezing it ... distorting it.... 

Back into her cunt hole now ... stretching her fingers apart as far as they 
could be stretched. 

She worked two inside ... then three ... then four ... harder ... harder ... 
reaching deep down into her cunt chamber now, pressing her fingers against 
the back wall ... stretching the elastic membrane as far as she could manage 
it. 

She twisted her hand at the wrist ... rotating it one way, then the 
other.... 

Back to her clit now ... pressing harder ... harder.... 

""Oh...." she said, a single sound, yet to her ears it sounded like an 
explosion. 

Back and forth ... running up and down the length of the shaft, tickling 
over the swollen membrane ... 

Each movement sent a wave of sensation surging through her entire network of 
nerves. 

Each tickling caress sent another wave of spasms rippling through her 
muscles. 

Each touch drove her farther away from the center of her mind ... drove her 
out to the limits of her control, casting her limp out on the leading edge 
of madness. 

Catching her forefinger behind her thumb, she cocked it like a spring 
pressed harder, aimed it directly for her clit, and then released it. The 
edge of her fingernail raced over the exposed tip of her clitoris. She felt 
like the top of her skull came off. 

"OHhhhhhh...." she gasped, shuddering. 

Her voice echoed back and forth in the room. 

She felt the sensations filling her body ... felt her muscles starting to go 
more and more crazed, spasming wildly, filling her with the heat of her own 
lust, turning it back onto herself where it slowly consumed her. 

She moaned again. 

Her fingers were coated with the juices that flowed from inside her cunt. 

She rubbed her juices over her outer cunt lips, spreading her rich 
secretions over her body like soft butter on bread fresh from die oven. 

The pit ... now she sensed its approach. Closer ... closer ... a bottomless 
void ... an unknowable dimension, spaceless ... timeless ... mindless.... 

Balanced now at the edge, tottering ... losing her balance.... 

And once more raking her fingernails over her clit the last support crumbled 
and she fell, spilling wildly down ... down ... down ... gasping for breath 
... gasping for life.... 

Clawing at her cunt.... 

Uttering a little cry before finally lapsing into an exhausted silence ... 
peaceful, almost.... 

***** 

"Now Randy, I don't have time ... I told you that." 

"Aw come on ... you can make time, can't you?" 

Toni Francetti sighed. 

"I really don't have time. Randy," she said. "Yeah you do. Damn it 

She stared at the large, muscular boy. "Randy, if you weren't so fucking 
obvious about the fact that you're an ass-hole, I might have time for you. 
But you are an ass-hole and so I don't. Besides, I really do have something 
to do after school. " 

"What?" he sneered. 

"I told you. I've got a real date." 

"Oh., so what are you going to do, go wash your hair?" 

"No ... dumb fuck. I'm catching a bus up to Rollins. That's what." 

"What the hell for?" 

"None of your business ... but just so you'll know what you're missing 
because you treat me like such shit, I'm going to spend the weekend with 
J.R. Rodgers." 

"J.R.? Shit, I didn't know you were fucking him too. 

She sighed. "You've got a very depressing way of simplifying things, you 
know that?" 

"What do you mean?" he asked, acting hurt. 

"What I mean is, dumb fuck, you treat me like I'm a slut because I happen to 
like the same things that you like. It's not fair, and if you want the 
truth, your cock's not impressive enough, not large and hot and exciting and 
juicy enough for me to keep putting up with it. So, maybe you ought to leave 
me alone. All right?" 

He frowned. 

"Aw, come on, you can spare me a couple of minutes, can't you?" 

"Randy, eat shit." 

"I'll give you some dynamite coke to take with you when you go fuck J.R." 

Toni stopped. The bastard. He knew all her weak spots, didn't he. 

"Coke, huh? How many times has it been cut." 

"None. Swear." 

"Bullshit." 

"Doesn't matter It's still good shit. I promise. I wouldn't lie." 

"Can I try it out " 

"Yeah, but you gotta fuck me." 

"Ml fuck you. I'll fuck you. All right?" 

"Hell yeah it's all right. Fucking's always all right. " 

Toni stared at him a moment, then said, "You're a real ass-hole, you know 
that?" 

"Yeah." 

"Where do you want me to meet you." 

"How about the lockers." 

"Shit is that why you're pestering me? Did Dick tell you?" 

"What? No. Tell me what." 

"Aw, you're all just a bunch of bastards." 

"You're not going to back out on me, are you?" 

"You promise that's good coke?" He nodded. 

"I'll have your balls if you're lying to me." 

***** 

Steve Randall lit a cigarette to kill the taste of the black tar that passed 
for coffee in the teacher's lounge. 

"Christ when's the la. t time someone brewed a new pot of this stuff?" 

"Remember Eisenhower?" asked Will Metcalf, Drama coach. About the time of 
his second term, I think." 

"Yech!! ! Tastes like shit." 

"Aw, quit complaining. You need it strong to put up with the monsters. Or 
are you one of those damn fool teachers who actually-likes the little 
bastards? " 

"Let's just say I can tolerate them 

"I'll bet you can. 

Steve smiled to himself. Keep a straight face, boy. Don't lose control of 
yourself. 

Fact was Steve Randall was starting to think about tolerating one particular 
student a lot more than the rest of them. 

Polly Pritikin ... cute little kid, nice-as-hell tits and a bottom lip that 
trembled so fetchingly he wanted to just grab hold of her and suck her right 
up. 

He liked nothing better than that vulnerable look. And no one could get it 
quite like sweet Polly. 

He wondered if he'd been mistaken. Had she been looking in his desk, or 
what? 

If so, it could be bad. He knew he should have removed those pictures from 
that bottom drawer long ago, but somehow, he never quite got around to it, 
and there usually wasn't any chance for anyone to go snooping.... 

And, come right down to it. there wasn't anyone less-likely than Polly to be 
snooping around in his desk, was there? 

He smiled. 

He contemplated ... he let his mind wind out. 

How would that sweet little thing look, anyway, strung up from a hook ... 
trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. 

He saw his fingers moving toward her dress.... 

Felt the moistness of her panties as he gripped them, carefully pulling them 
down, exposing her quivering pussy. 

"Oh. Mr. Randall, please ... please ... don't hurt me too badly...." 

"Hey!" said a voice, interrupting him. 

He jerked out of his dream state. 

"Wha ... huh? "It was Julia Perkins He felt a little sheepish. Christ! Had 
he really been thinking that about sweet little Polly? Now here was someone 
he could think about, and not worry. 

"What's happening?" he asked, jauntily. 

She wasn't in a good mood. She was in fact, frowning badly. 

"What's the problem Julia." he asked when she wordlessly sat next to him 

"I think some of the kids saw the marks you left on my back," she said. 

He looked around hastily, Christ! what was she trying to do, broadcast it 
all over the place, hope no one heard her. 

"Say, listen, Julia, what say we take ourselves a little walk? Huh?" 

He laughed, effecting a light-hearted mood. 

She wasn't buying any. "Steve, I'm frightened." 

"Aw, look, don't let it get to you. Fuck the little bastards you know what I 
mean? I mean, what do you owe them? The only thing you need to make certain 
of is that they're respectful to you in class. Beyond that, you can't 
control them anyway so why worry?" 

"Steve, you should have told me that my blouse was so thin, this morning." 

"Julia, what are you talking about?" 

"You could see those welts you left on me, right through the material." 

He sighed. 

"Look, are you going to blame me ... I mean I thought we had ourselves a 
good time you know ... and now you're starting to come down on me and all 
... and shit ... I just don't think it s fair." 

"Fair? FAIR?" She started to raise her voice. 

"Geez, look, let's go take a walk, what do you say?" 

"I don't want to take a walk. In fact I don't think I want to see you 
again." 

"Huh? Hey, come on ... look, this is silly. You don't need to be this way, 
Julia." 

"Don't you tell me what I need to be, Steve Randall." 

"Look, last night, do you remember what you were saying to me? Huh? Do you?" 

"Yes. And I'd like to forget it." 

"Don t give me that shit! You were damn serious, and I took you seriously, 
and now, you're coming down on me like I committed some kind of horrible 
crime or something." 

"I'm not coming down on you, Steve, I'm just telling you how I feel. I'm 
scared." 

"Of what? The monsters? Christ, they're piss-ants, Julia. They're 
expendable. Don't go piss away what we had last night. It was delicious." 

She was about to answer but Steve noticed that Will Metcalf was starting to 
pay close attention to the two of them They'd been whispering softly, but 
there was no doubt from their appearance that they were engaged in a serious 
conversation of some sort 

"Look, can I see you for dinner tonight?" 

"NO!" 

"Yes," he persisted. 

"What do you mean. Yes ... I just told you, no, and I meant it. I think we 
should stop seeing each other for a little while. Till this calms down." 

Two points-one, there is nothing to calm down ... repeat, there is NOTHING 
that need to calm down ... and two, we just started seeing each other. We 
can't stop something that hasn't even gotten under way yet can we?" 

"Maybe it s best that way. I don't know ... I just saw the way she looked at 
me. . "'the way who looked at you." 

"Oh ... just one of my students in home room. She's in my English class too. 
I saw her staring at my wrists in home room, and that's when I realized that 
the red marks were showing ... and I ran to the lounge after the bell and 
looked in a mirror, and Steve, you could see all these awful marks on my 
back. I was horrified. Then, in English class, she was staring at me again." 

"Who? Who? Who's this evil demon that has you in such an uproar?" 

"Polly Pritikin. She's a sweet little-" 

He started to laugh. 

"What are you laughing about. What's so funny. I fail to see the humor. Do 
you hear? I fail to see the humor in this situation." 

"She's starting to get a little reputation, you want to know the truth. 
"What do you mean." 

"If she thought you were letting someone tie you up, Julia, and maybe even 
letting them take a belt to you-" 

"Would you keep it down'" 

"I'm just whispering!" 

"I don t care. Stop it. You're broadcasting it all over the place. " 

"Nonsense. Calm down. Get a fucking grip on yourself, lady. You're a grown 
woman but you're acting like a little kid. " 

"I am not!" 

"Polly would probably like to ask you for pointers " 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Trust me, there's a lot more to that girl than the placid, bookish little 
act she puts on for everyone. I'll wager that there's a real tigress waiting 
to get out, if you want to know the truth." 

"Steve," said Julia, "I feel like this entire conversation has been a 
failure. I feel like you've paid no attention to me ... or to my fears ... 
and I'm afraid-" 

"Hell, I can see that you're afraid. Don't be. No one's gonna hurt you. I 
promise. Now how about dinner? " 

"No " 

"Come on. I'm cooking." 

"NO!" 

"You can pick the menu "Oh Steve ... please...." 

"What do you want me to do? Say "Oh sure, Julia, you re the hottest woman 
I've ever met, but if you want to walk out of my life, go ahead, I'll just 
sit here with my thumbs up my ass and whistle a stupid tune and won't say a 
thing...."Is that what you want me to say?" 

"No ... but I-" 

"Good. Because I won't. If you want to end it before we have a chance to see 
where we're going fine. Go right ahead. But you'll get no cooperation from 
me. And, in fact, I'll fight you. And I think I've got a good chance of 
winning. " 

"What makes you say that?" 

"Because I still have the sound of your voice ringing in my ear from last 
night, darling, and those are not the sounds of an indifferent woman." 

"SHHHHH!" she said, blushing. 

"Shhhhh shhhhhh shhhhhh shhhhhh!" he mimicked. "No, I won't shhhh! I'll 
proclaim it from the rooftops I'll take out ads in all the papers, I'll buy 
time on television. I don't care who knows it ... in fact I think I'll start 
right now-" 

"Stop. Please. Stop. " 

"Dinner at eight?" 

"Steve...."" 

"I won't quit." 

"I'll have dinner with you." 

"Well, that's more like it " 

She looked to be distracted when she finally left the teacher's lounge ... 
but that didn't matter to Steve. Hell, she didn't know distracted. But after 
tonight, she damn sure would. 

He felt his cock throbbing a little, thought again about Polly Pritikin, and 
wondered how the two of them would look, licking each other's clits. 

Life was just an endless source of potential, if you knew where to look. 

***** 

"Ow," cried Toni, "you're going in at the wrong angle." 

"Aw shit," complained Randy, "I just figured that you'd be stretched so big, 
any angle would work." He grinned a big stupid grin. 

Toni slapped him across the face. 

"That coke you've got better be the same stuff you let me try, dumb fuck," 
she said. "Because this sure isn't going to be worth it any other way." 

Randy grinned again. "Trust me, darling. 

Have I ever lied to you?" 

"You say you haven't but you're probably lying. " 

"Don't confuse me." 

"Randy, with you, that's real hard to avoid." 

They were in a storage closet, of all places. Toni was leaning against a 
wall, her dress hiked up to her waist 

She'd pulled her panties down to her knees and spread her thighs enough to 
accommodate Randy s cock...(she wasn't expecting fireworks, understand) and 
now, he was doing his best to deliver. 

"Come on. Randy. It's just your basic, standard design pussy. No hidden 
curves. No secret passageways. Just a hole and a tunnel and room for your 
cock, if you ever figure it out " 

"Aw shut up. I've never fucked in this position before. It's awkward." 

"They're all awkward. Randy. Fucking is awkward. There's nothing graceful 
about it. It's our curse. Now, quit making excuses and get with it. I told 
you. I'm going to be late." 

"Hell, the bell hasn't even Ring yet." 

"Would you stick it in me!? " 

His cock was stiff enough. And, she had to admit, it was certainly long 
enough. 

But he was having one hell of a time getting it into her hole. 

"Here," she said, "Let me try this." 

She threw her arms around his shoulder . "Now, you have to hold me up." 

"What are you going to do?" asked Randy suspiciously. 

"I'm going to climb up into your lap. But you have to keep standing." 

"Who do you think you are, Raymond Chandler?" 

"Shut up, and cooperate. I'm doing this for you!" 

First slipping her panties all the way down to her feet and stepping out of 
them she raised her right leg and wrapped it around the small of his back. 

She pulled him to her gripped his shoulders and neck tightly and said "Hold 
on. Here I go." And then, hoisting her elf up, she found to her delight that 
he was sturdy as a hunk of carved granite. "Oh ... yeah," she said, hanging 
from his shoulder with her arms letting her left leg wrap around his back 
now. 

"Jesus," he grunted, but held fast. Her cunt was spread wide open now. The 
closet she'd selected for the deed was lacking in heat, so she was starting 
to get a little chilled, but if Randy would hold up his end of the bargain, 
she might be able to work some of that off. 

The juices from her cunt were covering her outer lips. Now, as she spread 
her legs around his body, the cold air hit the wet skin and for a moment, 
she thought she was going to freeze. 

"Come on. Randy, fuck me. I'm going to die of pneumonia if you don't." 

His cock was throbbing now. 

She said. "You're going to have to stick it in. This time, the angle should 
be right for you. 

Both his hands supported her buttocks but now he gripped his cock with one. 

"That's it " she encouraged as she felt the barbed-tip rubbing up and down 
over her clitoris settling finally in the curved, concave depression 
spiraling down into the vortex of her cunt hole. 

Supporting herself with her legs, she pushed her hips away from his body a 
moment, just enough to allow his cock to line itself up straight with her 
cunt hole ... and then she started to fall back onto him 

She felt the mushroom-shaped glans split her tight cunt hole. "Oh ... God," 
she said, 'that's nice. Randy. That really is. Oh yeah ... yeah ... do it. 
Just like that. Fill me up. Please ... keep it in there ... don't move yet 
... just let me get used to you." 

He wasn't all that big. Not big enough to warrant all that chatter. 

But the coke he was going to give her warranted that and more. It warranted 
a first-rate fuck job. 

And she was going to give it to him Randy was an ass-hole, but he was a 
sweetie in spite of himself. 

"Yeah ... yeah ... hold me ... hold me up ... don't let me fall," she said, 
and then, trusting him to hold her up, she let her feet fall away from his 
back and pressed them against the wall. 

Pushing, she raised her hips up off of his cock, bringing the glans out to 
the tight rim once more, but not pulling it all the way through yet. 

"Yeah," she groaned, "oh yeah ... that's incredible." 

She let the thing pull a little ways through her cunt hole, just enough to 
stretch the rim 

Then, she pulled her feet away from the wall, falling back onto his cock 
again, driving it straight through her. 

"JESUS!" she gasped. 

"Hey, cool it, would you," he complained. "Don't go so hard." 

"What's wrong are you going to come or something?" 

"Well, shit, you're slamming yourself around me like that, what do you 
expect?" 

"What do I expect? I'll tell you what I expect. I expect to get my rocks off 
too, dude. I mean, what's this quick shit? I like to come when I fuck. Is 
that too much to ask?" 

He allowed as how maybe it wasn't all that much to ask. 

"Damn fucking straight it's not." She pushed her feet against the wall 
again. 

"Easy now," he said. 

"Fuck you, turd ball," she replied, let herself slam back onto him "Oh ... 
shit," he gasped. 

Uh-oh, she thought. That was a cry of desperation. She'd fucked enough guys 
to know that it meant he was close ... dangerously close. 

"Randy. I'm going to do something now ... and I don t want any argument from 
you, all right?" 

"Huh? 

"That's the idea," she replied. You gotta hit these bastards before they 
have time to think, which always takes longer than you'd ever expect anyway, 
she told herself. She pulled her cunt up off his cock again, and this time 
.she let the glans fall all the way out. 

Reaching up to her hair, she pulled the band off that she'd used to gather 
her hair into a pony-tail on the side of her head. 

Her hair cascaded down to her shoulder now in a series of light curls. 

She wasn't interested in her hair, however. 

She was interested in his cock, and more to the point, in getting that hair 
band around the base of it. 

Actually, it was nothing more than a rubber band, but one that had an 
elastic layer of insulation on the outside to keep the rubber-band from 
pulling her hair. 

She slipped it around four fingers now and dropped them around his cock. 

Then, pulling her fingers out of the loop, she stretched it tight and 
twisted it wrapping that half-loop around his cock as well. 

She could see that would be more than enough pressure to accomplish her 
goal. 

Randy had watched, stupefied. She'd mistaken his silence for approval, but 
now he erupted in a bludgeon of a voice "HEY! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU--! ! " 

She slammed her hand over his mouth. 

"Do you want people to find us?" 

His eyes were two question marks in his face. 

She moved her fingers back to his cock and rolled the band down the length 
of his shaft till it was digging in tightly at the base of his cock. 

"Tighten up now," she told him." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Like you're trying to stop the flow in mid-piss. 

"Oh," he said, meekly, awed by her apparent knowledge, and obeyed. She 
watched the glans swell almost a quarter again it original size, turn a deep 
shade of purple, and stay that way. 

The veins on the side of his cock bulged enormously. 

"Now," she said, "you can come whenever you want." 

"Why?" asked Randy. 

"As long as that rubber band's in place, Randy darling, the only thing that 
make that cock soft is an atom bomb." 

"Or someone walking in on us." 

"No way. Nothing's going to soften that baby up." 

Then, she lowered her cunt lips back around his stiff shaft, to prove her 
point. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

This time, the fleshy tip of Randy's cock felt like steel. 

"Oh yeah, Randy," said the girl. His cock split her like a machete splitting 
a coconut. She fell with the full weight of his body, letting the pole 
between his legs ram a straight path directly to the back of he cunt chamber 

She gasped. Her cunt muscles contracted. She gasped some more. 

Her juices flowed. 

They poured from the depths of her heated flesh, oozing like cream. 

"Yes " she cried, "Oh yes ... yes ... yes...." and she shook her hips 
against his body. 

Randy, a little dazed and confused by all this, nonetheless understood that 
he was in the middle of a joyride that dreams were made of, and held on to 
her ass like he was holding the Grail. 

"Yeah," he mumbled, 'that's real sweet." 

He was getting off pretty easily. She was doing all the work, not from 
choice so much as compulsion. 

She couldn't control herself. Her body was so enflamed by the overwhelming 
sensations from his throbbing cock she didn't dare to stop. It already felt 
as if this could be one of those rare fucks that literally split the mind 
wide open. 

She was up for it. 

Deeper and deeper now with every thrust, kicking herself off him, sliding 
back onto him kicking away again. 

Each thrust pulled his cock through the mushy swamp of her cunt flesh. 

She could imagine how those engorged, saturated pink membranes looked, that 
huge pole dragging through them. 

"Don't stop," she gasped. 

"Hell, does it feel like I'm stopping?" 

"I don't care. Just don't stop." 

Her hips were working hard on him now. 

Harder. 

Harder. 

Faster. 

Spreading her juices. All over him, Coating the surface of his cock, working 
the juices up in between their bodies as they came together in their hot 
embrace. 

Spread it, sliding over it ... greasing themselves up. 

"Oh ... Randy, how come you never felt this good before? 's he asked, 
growing more and more passionate with each passing second. 

"Don't know," he muttered, not sounding like a conversation was the highest 
thing on his list of priorities. 

I You're great. I've never felt you this good." 

She pulled her hips up now at the same time as she kicked herself away from 
him forcing the surface of his cock to drag across her clit. 

That tiny bud of nerves was swollen to about three times its usual size. 

She felt the top surface of his cock scraping over her clit. 

She felt the nerves sizzling from each stimulating thrust. 

She felt his glans dragging back and forth through the swollen membranes of 
her cunt. 

They closed in around it tightly, pressing against his cock from all 
directions. 

She knew how to make her cunt muscles move. 

She could control the contractions. She could, in fact, make the inner walls 
of her cunt dance. 

They danced now. She set up a series of contractions, starting with the 
muscles in the front of her pussy, squeezing them, then moving on to the 
next set just behind ... moving on in this manner all the way down her 
pussy. 

She repeated the contractions, setting up waves of muscle movements, waves 
that literally started to stroke his cock. 

"Christ, it feels like a fist," he muttered as she increased the speed of 
her muscle contractions inside her cunt. 

"Randy, darling," she laughed. "I've got news for you, dear. This is not a 
fist. You are not beating off. This is a cunt, and it's fucking you with 
more expert precision than you'll ever deserve." 

"Aw, that's not fair," he protested. 

"Look, you've got a nice cock, and it's going to stay hard for the rest of 
the year if we want it to. Let's not knock a good thing, what do you say?" 
She smiled as she said it, but he still wasn't sure where she was coming 
from. 

"You putting me on?" 

"Sure. Actually, your cock's putting me on. Don't you like wearing my pussy 
on your cock?" 

"Yeah. How come we don't do this more often?" 

"Because you're a tight-as.--.ed prude, and you think I'm a whore." 

"You're fucking for coke." 

"So? I'd have fucked you anyway." 

"What? How come you didn't say so." 

"I wanted the coke." 

He looked hurt. "Oh, cut it out," she chided. "You look like a little boy." 

WHAM! She crashed her hips into him now with such force that she knocked him 
off balance before he could respond. 

"Oh shit!" he cried, toppling over into a stack of wet mops. 

They went down with a crash. 

Toni couldn't help herself. She started to laugh. 

"OW!" moaned Randy. 

"Now, don't get upset " 

"Well, shit...." he muttered, dejectedly. 

"What's wrong?" she asked. 

His cock, which had pulled out of her cunt as soon as they spilled to the 
floor, was now spurting the last globs of cum from his balls, the rest of 
his load of jism having already spent itself down both his and her legs 

"Oh," she said, "I see. Got a little carried away, did I? " 

"To say the fucking least," he grumbled. 

"Well, what are you worried for little boy," she said, stroking his cheeks, 
giving his cock a loving kiss. "That's why we put that rubber band over your 
cock. Right?" 

"Oh yeah," he said, staring down at it. 

Although the thing had long since finished shooting, there was no sign of a 
wilt to it. 

If anything, it was straighter and firmer than ever before. 

"I'll be damned," he muttered. "Looks pretty fucking stiff don t it." 

"And you know what? I'll bet it feels pretty fucking stiff too. " 

And she was right. 

***** 

Polly gathered her books together as the last bell rang. 

Most of the students would be making a mad dash for the parking lot, or the 
edge of the campus, wanting to put as much distance between themselves and 
Conrad J. Sapp's legacy as they possibly could. 

But she would be staying, for a while at least 

Student Council meetings took place on Friday afternoons, and she was the 
secretary of that distinguished body. (It looked good on college 
applications, she kept telling herself.) Truth was, she was more anxious 
than usual to gel away from school this Friday. She had a date with Dick 
tonight, as she'did every Friday night ... and Saturday ... and Sunday 
afternoon and sometimes Sunday evening ... but tonight she wanted to have a 
serious talk with him about the future, and about the present. 

And about their relationship. 

And about the implications for the future any changes in the dynamics of 
that relationship might hold forth. 

She wanted to fuck him ... that's what she was slowly stumbling towards ... 
but she just didn't know how to approach him with the subject, having 
campaigned so long, and hard, and successfully to insure that they wouldn't 
fuck before marriage ... she couldn't quite imagine him accepting it. He 
might be horrified. Frightened. He might even drop her. Her father always 
told her "Men think there are two kinds of women. Whores and wives. They 
never look to the same woman for both qualities. 

It was for that reason that Polly allowed Dick his occasional dalliances as 
with Toni Francetti. 

She'd heard about an occasion or two since they d been going steady ... and 
a couple more that were alleged to have taken place before the two of them 
met ... and, like any understanding woman, Polly realized that Toni was 
willing to give what she herself could not and that in the long run Dick 
would respect her for it much more so than he would respect a cheap painted 
slut like that Toni bitch.... 

Well ... there was a spate of venom she'd not expected. 

She would, perhaps, have to talk to Dick about Toni as well. She started to 
walk towards the Student Council room, pausing a moment outside a supply 
closet in the hallway ... listening.... 

What were those sounds? 

She listened harder. And closer ... and recognized the voice of Randy 
Hunsucker ... and, of course ... Toni Francetti. 

Polly turned to stare in open-mouthed astonishment at the closed door. 

As if, with sufficient concentration, she might develop X-ray vision. 

It was unthinkable. She knew that Toni Francetti had a reputation, but, like 
all the girls she'd simply assumed that to be mostly macho braggadocio, 
aided and abetted by Toni's well placed silence and an occasional sly, 
knowing grin here and there. 

But ... judging from those sounds, this had been going on since well before 
the final b II rang. 

She wanted, all of a sudden, to open the door. Not to expose them Lord 
knows, they I manage that all on their own if they kept this up. 

No ... what she wanted, she realized, was to see how they were doing it 

She had no idea what real fucking looked like. She'd only read about it. 

In her father's books that he kept hidden in the closet. 

***** 

Dick Wilson was undecided. He needed to stop by Wally-Joe Jordham's house to 
pick up a bag of weed that Wally-Joe had procured for him. and he needed to 
be home by four, but Polly was expecting him to be waiting for her when the 
Student Council meeting was over. 

Nah, he thought She'd be all right It wasn't that far to her house, and the 
street would most likely be cleared by this time. He'd leave a note in her 
locker and hike over to 

Wally Joe's . There were lots of things he needed to take care of before his 
date with Polly tonight. 

***** 

JESUS. WOULD YOU LET ME OUT OF HERE! ! " 

"THE HILL YOU SAY!" 

"PLEASE!! ! " 

"NO!" 

"AW COME ON! " 

"NO! YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT. DAMN YOU. AND YOU'RE GONNA GIVE IT TO Ml WE HAD A 
DEAL! " 

"YEAH, BUT THIS WASN'T PART OF IT!" 

"IT IS NOW!" 

"THAT'S NO FAIR " 

"NOTHING S FAIR. RANDY. YOU GOTTA LEARN TO LIVE WITH IT." 

"Aw, come on. Toni, give me a break. Let me go." 

"You re out of your mind. This is the best cock I've ever found in this 
school, and if you think I'm just going to let you tuck it back in your 
pants and walk out of here till I've had my fill, you're crazy." 

"ME! ! You're the one who's crazy. Jesus you like my cock so much, in about 
live more minutes, it's gonna fall off and you can just stick it in your 
purse and carry it around with you." 

"Come on ... just one more time. Please." 

"Aw, Toni, give me a break. It hurts." 

"Nonsense. What are you, a wimp?" 

"I'm hurtin', that's what I am." 

"What a fucking flower. I'm disgusted." 

They were still in the closet. No one, miraculously, had bothered them 

"I don't know what the fuck you got in there instead of brains girl, but I 
think there's way too much of it whatever the hell it is." 

"Just like a guy. You bug my ass and bug my ass to fuck you and now that I'm 
ready to give you all the pussy you want, you're backing out." 

"I done came four times. Shit, my balls turned inside-out the last time. 
THEY HURT!! " 

"Tsk, tsk." 

"How much more do you need." 

"One more." 

"That'll make it fifteen times you came." 

"I'm not counting, but if you say so." 

"It hurts! " 

She looked down at his cock. It was a deep shade of purple. Sort of like the 
eastern sky at four in the morning. 

"Hmmmm, maybe we'd best make this the last." 

"I'm gonna die." he moaned. "Don't be silly." 

"Will you call my ma--tell her I love her?" 

"I'll tell her what you were doing on your way out. Now come on, stick it 
in." 

"Oh ... shit ... it hurts " Randy lamented. His eyes were glassy. He had a 
slack-jawed expression on his face. 

His cock, trouper that it was. stood straight as the Washington Monument, 
just as stiff, and, unless she missed her guess almost as tall. 

He'd given up standing long ago and now was sprawled among the mops and 
bucket , on his back. His cock was quivering. She lowered herself onto it. 
He was right about coming four times although that last one wouldn't have 
filled a thimble with his jism But he'd made noises that a wounded ape 
couldn't have mimicked in the course of coming, so she'd naturally assumed 
that he'd enjoyed it. 

Now, her tender cunt membranes opened once more. 

She was, actually, at her own limits but she couldn't get over the novelty 
of having a cock that wouldn't quit The mythical fantasy was alive and 
throbbing right here in the mop closet, and unless Svensen barged in on them 
she was going to get one last muscle spasm out of this devil. 

Her hole opened, spreading once more around the oily slickness of his cock. 

He gasped ... he moaned, he started to cry ... and her hips began once again 
to slam down on his cock ... harder ... harder ... harder ... harder ... 
harder ... 

"Oh, yeah ... yeah ... yeah ... yeah...." she said, "you're a real lover 
Randy. I'll never forget you. Never." 

"I don't think there's too fucking much chance I'll forget you either OW 
DAMN WATCH IT WOULDJA!! ? You done rubbed the skin off it three fucks ago." 

They'd been going at it for over an hour now. The sounds of students 
clattering through the halls had diminished. Toni suddenly realized that she 
could well end up getting the two of them locked in ... for the week-end.... 

"Say, Randy," she said, "Why don't we just stay here the week-end ... and we 
could--! ! " 

He started to struggle to his feet. "You're so fucking fucked up ... Christ 
get your damn head out of your ass woman, and let me live, damn you." 

She tripped him, sending him sprawling back into the wet mops. 

And then that cock was in her once more. Persistence, Toni believed, would 
accomplish anything. 

Anything at all. 

It might even get a fifth come out of this sucker's balls. 

She ground her hips harder and harder into his pelvis driving his cock 
deeper and deeper inside her. 

She no longer required the in/out motion of his cock stroking her cunt 
membranes to stimulate her. The membranes inside her pussy were more and 
aroused, sensitized to the point where she needed only to move herself 
against him, keeping the shaft buried as far as she could force it. 

Lowering her hips caused the shaft to press up. working waves of stimulating 
sensation deep into the shaft of her clit ... 

Again and again. . 

Rolling her hips around ... around ... around ... around ... around.... 

"Yes ... oh yes ... yeah ... yeah ... yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah OH GOD OH GOD 
YEAH! ! " 

And one last time the shattering muscle contractions ripped through her. 

"Oh God," she said, her voice quivering as if from panic. "I ... I ... oh 
God...." 

She looked at him 

He was dead. "Randy!" she cried. 

One eye opened. "Thought you'd fucked the life out of me, didn't you?" 

She slapped him. "Bastard. The life was already out of you. Otherwise we 
wouldn't have needed this." 

"Can I take it off now?" 

"Sure." 

"Shit " he cried. "I can't find it." 

"It's just buried beneath the surface." 

"Oh Lord, you done damaged my pecker." 

"Go fuck yourself, idiot," she said, rummaging through her purse. 

"In the future, you can just damn well bet I will," he replied, then let out 
a yelp of blind panic. "What are you going to do with that knife? " 

"Cut it off. 

"AAAAAARRRRRRRRRGHHHHH!! ! " 

Mops scattered and buckets clattered in his struggle to get past her. 

She grabbed his balls. 

"Don't make me squeeze." 

Calmed him down right quick. 

"Our Father, who art in Heaven...." he solemnly intoned 

"Now cut that out! You're just gonna get us struck by lightning doing that." 

She slipped a long fingernail underneath the rubber band, which had indeed 
bitten so deeply into the flesh of his cock it wasn't at first visible then 
deftly sliced it off with the thin blade of her knife. 

He stared at her. 

"What planet did you come from?" 

"I was sent to teach you Earthlings how to fuck properly. My mission is 
nearly over. You're lucky. You caught me just in time, but," she said, 
glancing at her watch, "I really do have a bus to catch. Be a dear and how 
about that coke?" 

"Give me a chance to catch my breath, would you? " 

"No. I don't have time to wait" 

"Shit ... look, I'm parked over on Duval street. Where are you?" 

"Up on Copeland. " 

"So get your car, and meet me at mine. I'll be there." 

"You gonna skip out?" 

"I should. You nearly killed me." 

She kissed his cock, now gratefully limp. "If you do, Randy, I'll hunt you 
to the ends of the earth and I'll cut this little dear off 

Randy saw no reason in the world to doubt her. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Polly was hurt, but Dick's note made it clear that he'd stood her up this 
afternoon only so that he could be ready for her tonight. 

That was good. 

She'd be ready for him too ... and she hoped he'd handle what was coming, 
because she might need him to handle it for both of them She was going to 
fuck him tonight, and that was it. She was going to do it ... to hell with 
bananas, cucumbers brush handles ... she was going for the big meat tonight, 
and if that sonofabitch couldn't take it, well then, she'd ... she'd ... 
she'd slash her wrists on his front porch, that's what she'd do. 

Okay, okay, that's a little grim Maybe she'd ease up on the theatrics. 

But that cocksucker had better not let her down at the single most important 
moment of her entire life or else she'd be hopelessly and irrevocably 
scarred and she'd join a convent or maybe the Army or go to New York and 
become a practicing lesbian (she understood they were organized up there) or 
something equally drastic which she hadn't had time to think about but which 
she knew would occur to her if and when she needed it God forbid that she 
ever should. 

Let's see ... what books for the weekend? 

Algebra ... History (Ooooo that weird wonderful Mr. Randall she'd been 
trying to keep her thighs dry all day long and thought of him made it 
impossible!) and maybe her literature book (and what the hell was Ms. 
Perkins' story anyway. She should get together with Mr. Randall). 

Wait a minute. Could it be? 

Once again eerie music started to play in her brain and she felt a little 
dizzy, not scared, mind you, just a little dizzy, having made a connection 
that moments earlier would have been utterly impossible ... and now that it 
was made, seemed utterly logical, the brain needed a moment to readjust to 
the rapidly altered landscape. 

She shut her locker and slipped her lock into place. 

What? she wondered, annoyed, when it fell back open. She shoved it again, 
heard it click, but once more it refused to hold fast. 

"Oh damn!" she said, angrily. This would never do. She couldn't leave her 
locker opened all weekend long. There were some very personal items in here, 
and it wouldn't do! 

She tried once more ... and once more the lock refused to close. She spun 
the combination dial, but to no avail. 

"OH HELL!! " she cried. 

There was a noise behind her. 

"You be having a problem, ya?" said the kindly voice of Mr. Svensen. 

She still jumped, nonetheless. Her heart was pounding in her breast. "Mr. 
Svensen. Yes ... I ... I can't get it shut " 

"Ah ya ... ya...." he muttered, spinning it. "Well, no matter, I get you a 
new one." 

"You can do that?" 

"Ya shore," he said thickly. "No problem. 

You come wit me eh?" He signalled her to follow him, turned and shuffled out 
of the locker pavilion. 

"But ... but...." she said. He paid no attention. She really didn't want to 
leave the locker opened all weekend. She followed him out 

***** 

"One more for the road." 

"Sure. How about two. Or three. Or maybe four." 

"You're a damn glutton about everything, aren't you? "Randy asked Toni. 

"Only the good things darling." 

"Mmmmmm," he said, ambivalently. 

She snorted a spoonful ... then another ... then another ... and another ... 
and another.... 

She was already so wired she could have lit Chicago. 

"I really appreciate you giving me this out of your own stash," she told him 
"I'll make it up." 

"Capitalist pig. ""You said it doll." 

She begged one last toot and then gave him a kiss "Let me give you a call 
when I get back doll," she suggested. 

"Don't bother," Randy said, starting his car. 

"I'm going home and I'm going to sleep for the next week." 

She smiled. "Silly boy. I'll wake you up." 

He muttered something not even he could have translated and drove off. She 
climbed into her car and headed back the other way, cutting through the 
campus to get back to Copeland street. As she drove through the mostly 
snowbound grounds she thought about how wonderful it would be to get out of 
Conrad J. Sapp Memorial High School, and to get out of Sludge Falls 
altogether to head to New York, or maybe a good college somewhere back east. 
She wasn't sure. She just knew she was tired of getting her jollies with 
clowns like Randy, nice but limited, or snatching a moment or two with 
the-likes of Dick Wilson ... speaking of whom. there was his steady lady, 
Pretty Polly Pritikin which rolled off Toni's tongue as a single word, like 
the name of a doll. 

Toni wondered if she had a cunt. 

She also wondered why she was still at school at this hour. 

And she also wondered where the girl was going with Svensen. 

And then she promptly forgot about Polly, Dick, Randy, Conrad J. and the 
rest of the low-rents here in Sludge Falls and thought about J.R. Rodgers up 
at Rollins College, and his ten inch cock, and his frat house, and the 
fan-fucking-tastic time she was going to have. 

***** 

"Ick! The floor's all wet." said Polly, hanging back. 

Svensen turned around, chuckled, muttered something that might have been 
Swedish or it might have been Martian, for all Polly could understand. 

He waited. Then, getting impatient he said "You be here! Ya!" He stamped his 
foot and pointed to some vague space beside him. She walked through the 
shallow pool of water. 

"God is there another stairway?" she asked. "Where are we going?" 

"You get lock--lock ... eh?" He chuckled, a deep rumbling kind of sound that 
made her nervous. 

They were moving now through a realm she'd never known existed. She'd never 
thought about Svensen, where he worked, what he did. She'd never cared. She 
was more than annoyed that she was having to confront it now. 

There seemed to be more and more pipes running overhead. 

It was warm and humid down here as well. "Are we there yet?" she asked, not 
bothering to mask her impatience. 

He turned around. The kindly old smile was gone. In its place was a pinched 
look and anger and annoyance. 

"You complain a lot," he said, forming phrase that was a lot closer to real 
English than she'd ever heard him speak before. 

"Look, this is absurd! I don't even think you have locks down here," she 
said. "I think you're just leading me on a wild goose chase." 

He chuckled again. "Ya? That is yours to think, little girl. "He turned and 
walked on. 

She stopped, waited, and then, turning around and not having the faintest 
idea which way was out, followed him 

They descended the last stairway into shadows and increasing heat and 
humidity. 

"It's awfully warm down here." she said to him. 

"Ya ... it is warm down here." he agreed, shuffling on ahead of her. 

There seemed to be strange noises now ... rumbling sounds ... blowing 
sounds, as if a mighty wind. 

"What is that?" she asked. 

"Der boiler. " he replied. He turned to look at her. "What did you think? 
This is my place. 

There was a strange look in his eye. As if he wasn't quite willing to focus 
on her. 

"Look, what are we doing down here? This must be at least two floors beneath 
the school. I don't think you have any locks. You're just playing games with 
me." 

"Oh? Is that what old Svensen's doing with the pretty young girl? Is he just 
playing games?" 

There was a sarcastic tone to his voice, one she certainly had no desire to 
humor. 

"Excuse me, but I'm leaving. This is absurd. And you can just bet that I'm 
going to report this the first thing on Monday morning. And my parents are 
going to hear about this as soon as I get home." 

He looked puzzled, hurt. 

"You be what?" he babbled, again falling into tortured phrases that meant 
nothing. 

"You heard me. You're playing games with me. I don't believe you even have a 
lock down here for me. What are you bringing me here for anyway?" 

He stared at her. His thick eyebrows arched into a frown. 

"So go." He waved her away with his hand, dismissing her as if he were one 
of her teachers 

What do you mean, "go"? " she asked, now annoyed at the casual, almost 
insolent tone he was taking with her 

"Easy to translate. Go. Leave. You bother me." 

He turned away. "Just a second!" He kept walking. 

"Do you know who my father is?" 

Svensen turned around. "Ya. He's a man cursing fate for sending him a 
daughter such as you." 

"Why, you insolent, ignorant moron," she sneered. 

Svensen walked back to her. 

For a second, she thought he was going to hit her. She wasn't afraid of him 
As are as she was concerned, the man had already lost his job. This was 
unthinkable! 

"You leave now." he said, softly. 

"How come you don't have as much of an accent some times, as other times?" 
she asked. 

"GO! GET! You bother me. You waste my time. Svensen has much to do." 

"What about my lock," she asked. 

He stared at her, and said "You want lock? Svensen give you a good lock. Ya. 
He has many fine locks. You like, ya?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

And then, seized by a fit of anger, or perhaps fear, or maybe a combination 
of both she whirled on her heels and said "NEVER MIND!" and stalked back up 
the steps. 

She found herself amid a maze of pipes, dimly lit. the light growing more 
and more faint by the second. 

It must be late. It would be dark soon. She was frightened all of a sudden. 
She didn't know how to get out of here. 

"HELP!" she cried. 

No answer. 

"HELP! MR. SVENSEN. EM SORRY! PLEASE HELP ME!! " 

She listened. The roaring sound she'd heard earlier was no longer. The flame 
of the boiler, in a down cycle, no doubt. All she heard was the creak of the 
building settling around her. A dripping noise from a leaky pipe ... and 
nothing else. 

"HELP!! " she cried again "I'M LOST! ! " 

She peered down the long room through which they'd just come, but she could 
see nothing in the shadows now. The pipes above her head receded into the 
darkness and vanished. 

She cried out one more time. 

"HEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLP--! " 

A hand clamped over her mouth. 

"You're disturbing Svensen," said a voice. It was a calm voice Lightly 
accented. Calm collected ... in control. 

"You must stop disturbing Svensen." 

Polly was at first so hopeless startled she went limp. Fear hadn't even 
struck her yet. Simply a glaring incomprehensibility. 

His callused skin rubbed like steel wool over her tender lips and cheeks. 
His Fingers were hard, strong, firm. 

He closed her mouth off completely. No sound could escape. She could 
scarcely breathe. 

"You disturb Svensen," he said, softly, though his breathing seemed labored 
now. "You all disturb Svensen. You ignore him, don't you? You pay him no 
heed. He plays your game and acts ignorant he performs to your expectations 
does he not. You have no idea what Svensen really is, do you ... do you? You 
have no way of comprehending do you?" 

It was the voice ... but the words. They were incredible. Svensen could 
scarcely speak at all. And yet.... 

She started to feel the black bile of fear filling her stomach. Her legs 
went limp. 

She was afraid she would wet her panties in panic. 

"You have no respect for Svensen, do you? No ... heh, heh. You don't even 
see him ... unless you need something. Clean this up, fix that, get me a 
lock. Well, my sweet little thing ... I'll get you a lock. I'll lock you 
good and tight and no one will ever think to look for you down here because 
old Svensen, he's just a doddering fool, isn't he? He doesn't know a thing. 
Does he? He's just a clown, who can't even speak the language. You all think 
that. You're all wrong. " 

He's crazy, thought Polly to herself. He's mad as a hatter. 

He started to drag her back toward the stairs she'd just ascended. 

That was the trigger that sent her muscles into furious if futile, 
reactions. 

She screamed, uselessly, into his powerful hand. 

He carried her one hand clamped over her mouth, his other arm slipped 
underneath her own, lifting her right off the floor. 

Legs kicking viciously, she managed to connect with his shins on at least 
one occasion ... but it had as much effect as one pair of hands in a stadium 
of applause. 

"You think I don't see? Is that it? You think I don't know? You think I'm 
invisible? Well I'm not. This is Svensen's lair. He lives down here, little 
girl. You never bother to wonder. You think, surely he must go home at 
night. Well, you're wrong. Someone else goes home at night Svensen stays. 
Svensen stays right here and waits for me. Svensen is a friend of mine ... 
useful ... but not me. Svensen is like a shirt ... and now, you see me 
without my shirt, little girl. And you think I'm afraid of you? Nonsense. I 
fear no one. They've tried to catch me for years, decades, but they've 
failed ... and you know why? Because they would never think to look for 
doddering old Svensen. That's why." 

She listened, disbelieving. 

It was a nightmare, of course, one that certainly had to end. Didn't it? 
Didn't children always hear that at their mother's knee ... it's only a 
dream ... it's only a dream ... you're awake now ... you're safe 

Polly wanted to wake up. 

Unfortunately, it was becoming all to clear to the terrified girl that this 
was real, she was doomed to endure whatever this twisted mutant refugee from 
God knows what planet felt like giving her. 

He tossed her to the floor. 

She screamed. It was a long gut-wrenching scream one the kind you feel will 
turn your insides out. 

He laughed ... he kept laughing and finally his laughter overpowered her 
fear, causing her to stop screaming 

"Why are you laughing?" she asked him He laughed some more. 

Then he said "Because you think someone might hear you. Down here, there is 
nothing and no body but Svensen. No one comes down here. No one wants to 
come down here. It's just me." 

He grinned hideously at her. 

"You're sick. You're sick and deranged, and you're crazy!" she yelled at him 
trembling. 

"Ya ... you are right. I am sick. I'll tell you what Svensen is sick of. 
He's sick of little tiny sluts like you. Ya, he's sick ... sick of watching 
you bounce your bobbling breasts in his face ... sick of your pathetic, 
disgusting lack of morals ... ya, he's sick all right! Ha! You know nothing 
of true beauty, true erotic beauty. You only know the filthy gutter. That is 
all. Where is the life? Where is the mirth? Where is the sensuality!? " 

She thought to herself, "And obvious lunatic" 

"You can't know of these things, because in order to appreciate them you 
must know something of self-control. You must know something of the strength 
of denial. You people, you TRASH! You know nothing but mindless 
gratification ... and I watch ... and I see ... and you never suspect 
because you think Svensen's invisible. You think because you cannot see me 
that I cannot see you! Ha! That is your mistake!" 

His left eye began to move up into the top of his head while the right eye 
slowly wandered to the left. 

He paused, seemingly taken aback, then, realizing why things looked strange, 
he slapped his head hard against the side, slapped it again, muttered 
something that she couldn't understand ... slapped the side of his head 
again and suddenly, his eyes opening wide, a look of child-like bliss 
crossing his face, he snapped his boot heels together shot his right arm out 
at a slightly raised angle and said "MEIN FURHER! I CAN SEE!! "" 

He almost at once snapped out of the strange trance he seemed to have fallen 
into and looked around furtively. "You didn't hear that, he said to Polly." 

"Oh course not," she said, more confused than ever." 

He scratched his chin. 

"Mmmmmm hmmmm mmmm yes mmmm ach," he muttered "no, I cannot allow it. You 
heard. You must be disposed of." 

"What? Christ, you're out of your fucking mind. Let me go. I promise, I'll 
never tell anyone. Please ... let me go. Please. Please...." she said 
knowing she was pleading shamelessly now. Tears rolled down her cheeks. 

"What does the little slut take Svensen for eh? " he asked, still stroking 
his chin furiously, trying to put it all into place for himself, looking 
like he was having a difficult time of it. "What does she take Svensen for? 
What kind of fool, eh?" 

She suddenly bolted to her feet and was up and gone, bounding once more up 
the stair . 

He was a lot quicker on his feet than she'd have given him credit for being. 

His hard hand fell around her shoulder and jerked her to an instant halt 

For a moment she felt like a Warner Brothers cartoon character legs working 
furiously, making no progress. Too bad there were no laugh lines up ahead. 
No magical implausibilities to save her. This was the real world, and the 
demons meant business. Here, if the powder keg goes off in your face, you 
don't come back in the next scene, face blackened but ready for action. 

She felt a tug at her dress. 

Material ripped, a sickening sound, symbolizing in her mind far more than 
the loss of an article of clothing. 

"No ... Oh GOD please ... no don't ... please, don't, don't, don't...." 

"You ... you play a game with old Svensen, eh? No., no ... my little 
darling, it will not be permitted. We will stop you." 

She noticed a peculiar V sound creeping into his speech whenever he 
articulated a "W. 

"YA!" he shouted now. "Ve vill stop you. Ve have vays ... ! " 

Eyes out of focus again. 

Hands gripping her arms, the torn fragment of her dress falling around her 
breasts. 

Breathing hard now, he dragged her back. "I'll see to it. my little darling, 
that you're not so quick to bolt like the frightened deer next time, eh? 
Don't be so anxious to leave old Svensen, eh? He has so few friends. So 
little opportunity to indulge himself in a bit of conversation with an 
educated mind. He has to take precautions you know. They're after him. All 
of them ... they're after him For thirty-five years ... but Svensen's always 
been a step ahead. They'll never find him ... and you must disappear ... you 
must never be permitted to talk, because you will betray Svensen, like the 
rest of them, they betrayed Svensen ... they BETRAYED THE FATHERLAND AND 
THEY VILL PAY!" 

Again the clicking of the boot and the arm shooting out in front of him 

"My God, you're a Nazi," said Polly, aghast. 

"Seig Heil!! ! " he shouted. 

Then he shook his head, once more waking up. "Oh...." he said. "So ... you 
think you can trick me, do you? It is very difficult to trick me I am the 
one who does the trickery around here, my sweet little slut." 

He pushed her back towards the rear room. 

"Let me go...," she begged once more. 

"I regret that will be utterly out of the question. I have, however plans 
for you." 

She leaned back against him felt his throbbing cock pushing into her 
buttocks and in the center of her stomach, a pit open, a yawning, gaping pit 
bottomless, black with fear black with the nothingness that it offered her. 

He threw her to the floor and her head cracked against it hard enough to 
daze her for a few moments. 

And when she regained her wits about her, enough to roll over and look 
around, she saw the man standing over her rope in hand, once more grinning 
... grinning like a skull, like a death's head. She screamed again, knowing 
it was futile. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

He moved with careful precision. His first step had been to stuff a dirty 
rag into Polly's mouth. 

"I won't keep you gagged forever, my darling," he'd assured her. "Quite to 
the contrary, the sound of your screams will provide a warmth for my soul 
that should prove most welcome against this winter cold. 

"But I fear that it would prove most distracting indeed to have to listen to 
your endless useless pleas and entreaties would be most distracting, and I 
might fail to properly knot the rope, giving you perhaps a false hope of 
escape ... something that I certainly wouldn't want to do. It would be most 
unfortunate were you to get your hopes up, only to have them run aground on 
the shoals of reality, would it not?" 

She felt the rope biting into her wrists It was a thin nylon cord, no more 
than a quarter of an inch in thickness but quite strong. He had more than 
enough of it to make certain that she would be going no where. Ever again. 

Despair gripped her. 

He pulled the free end of each length of rope now, slipping them over pipes 
running above her head. 

She stared upwards in weak-knead panic. 

He pulled her arms above her head, pulling tight on the ropes, tying off the 
ends to thick steam pipes running vertically from ceiling to floor. 

She stood suspended in the center of the humid, warm room. Despite the heat, 
however, the concrete floor was cold. 

The naked soles of her feet conducted the cold up into her body, coupling 
with the panic already gripping her, causing her muscles to shiver 
violently. 

She stared at the demented monster in horror, in fear, in stark terror. 

Her shoes lay where he'd tossed them after removing them from her feet, 
upturned against the wall. 

Closer to her, the crumpled remains of her dress lay shapelessly on the 
floor, torn into three pieces as he'd removed it from her body. 

Closer still, her bra remained where he'd tossed it. 

Now, wearing only panties, the poor girl awaited the demon's next step, 
bringing her closer and closer to her doom. 

Svensen (she doubted now that Svensen was his name. She dared not think of 
what it might be). He stood in front of her now, imposing, threatening a 
shadow of death. 

"You shiver at my approach, do you?" He laughed. "Well and good. It is 
right, 'there are those who have been put on this earth to dominate, to 
control ... and there are those who are here to serve, to lend themselves 
their bodies and their minds in the service and pleasure of their masters. 

"For too long! TOO LONG! Do you HEAR!! ! ? For too long I have masqueraded 
as a lowly, sub-human. But no longer!" 

His face turned red. "You are witnessing my rebirth. You have the supreme 
honor of sacrificing yourself to the renewal of my life. 

Yours is an enviable position. Soon, there will be more like you!" 

He laughed again, a deep menacing sound rolling like thunder from the depths 
of his belly. 

"And now," he said when his laughter had subsided, "I shall permit you to 
vent your anger against me. I shall listen to you. Beg me, if you desire. It 
will amuse me." 

His hand reached out gripped the dirty rag in her mouth and jerked sharply 
on it. 

There was a sharp pain in the back of her neck as her head snapped from the 
force of his jerking movement 

"Oh ... oh God...." she gasped, breathing deeply, suddenly feeling the 
muscles in her legs give out. 

She fell, hanging solely by her arms. The joints at her shoulders twisted 
horribly, the balls nearly coming out of their sockets. 

He chuckled, standing aside, simply watching in silent joy. 

Polly raised her head to him "You want to hear me beg? I won't do it." 

He clapped his hands together gleefully. "Marvelous. I'm so impressed. You 
are a strong, willful woman, are you not? Well, well, we'll see if we can't 
do something about that." 

"You are a pig " 

"Yes ... yes ... tell me all about it " he said, the accent growing thicker 
again as he seemed to become more aroused. 

She felt fingers on her body, running over the surface of her skin. She felt 
finger on her breasts now, pulling at them squeezing the soft mounds of 
flesh. 

Her nipples, sensitive nubs of dark skin, thick and aroused despite her 
fear, now turned hard, growing erect from purely instinctive reflexes. 

She began to cry. 

"Ah," said the beast, I so love the sound of women crying. Their tears are a 
sight of rare beauty ... so fragile ... so transitory...." 

His hand bit sharply across her face. 

"You fucking slut " he said, almost calmly, yet with a scarcely concealed 
tremor in his voice. "You will certainly pay. For all of them. For all their 
sins. They're all the same ... sluts ... whores ... they are vermin ... like 
the Slavs ... the Gypsies ... the Jewesses ... ah ... we came so close ... 
so close. Nearly wiped them out. And their disgusting lack of morals with 
them But they have spread. And now, they infest even youth such as you. And 
it sickens me. It make me want to wretch." 

Crazy crazy CRAZY!! ! ! she thought. Out of his fucking mind 

Fingers on her nipples now. She cried out in pain, though he d scarcely 
begun to press against her. 

He squeezed ... tightening his grip on her nipples. 

"You feel that? Do you?" 

"Please ... please ... please ... it hurts ... it hurts so bad ... I can't 
stand it ... please ... please...." 

He gave no indication that he heard. He simply continued to increase the 
pressure on her nipples, slowly pulling on them, pulling the tender flesh of 
her breasts as he increased the pressure ... pulling harder ... harder ... 
harder.... 

like sharp needles now. That's how the pain registered in her brain. Needles 
of infinite sharpness red-hot.... 

Burning her ... sizzling her nerves.... 

He pulled up ... he pulled out He continued to squeeze her breasts. 

"Someone must pay, you see," he muttered. "Don't you understand? Someone 
must pay. For all those years. Those torturous, empty years. I've watched. 
All of you. You never change. You are all the same. Sex. It pervades your 
minds. There is nothing in your world but your precious preoccupation with 
your awakening glands. 

"Well, if you desire it so desperately, I shall give you precisely what you 
purport to desire." 

He jerked his arms backwards now, still keeping his fingers tightly locked 
around her nipples so that when they finally forced themselves free, the 
elastic membranes of he breasts sprang backwards with a sharp lurching 
shudder. 

She cried out Words were rapidly failing her now. There were only sounds at 
her disposal. 

Sounds and sensations. Harsh sensations, Burning sensations. 

She felt the driving throbbing pain in h r breasts felt the excess of it 
slowly ebbing out into her other tissues. 

She began to twitch as the muscles in her arms and legs launched into spasms 
driven by the pain that seared the nerves connected to them. 

Her legs remained limp, her body hung still from her arms. The joints in her 
shoulders grew more and more twisted. 

Muscles began to clench at her arms at the bones supporting her jerking her 
upwards in a bizarre dance, as if there were strings holding her ... strings 
given frequent tugs by an unseen hand a demented hand.... 

"Jesus 's he said softly, scarcely able to speak. 

He place his hand beneath her chin. 

"What was that?" he asked. "You invoke the name of that rogue? That cheap 
joke?. He'll do you no good now. Nothing will." 

He hit her again, then slapped her breasts, first the right, then the left. 

"Tell me it hurts, my little darling " said the man. "Tell me. Let me hear 
you cry out in anguish." 

Polly heard him, but already she was weak ... so much so that to speak 
required more energy than she could muster. 

"I said let me hear your anguished cries," he said, gripping her left breast 
tightly and twisting it. 

"Stop," Polly screamed. "Please, stop." 

"Oh, that's very good. That's wonderful. I love it. I love it. Let me hear 
more." 

He grabbed her right breast now. 

The fingertips of both hands pressed deep into the soft mounds of flesh. So 
harshly, in fact, she feared he might well puncture the surface driving his 
fingers straight through her. 

He twisted ... horribly. Turning ... harder ... harder ... turning farther 
... twisting after she'd reached her limits ... twisting and sending her 
past her limits. 

"Oh GOD it hurts. It hurts. It hurts." She screamed the words at him "Does 
that satisfy you? It hurts!" 

"Yes it satisfies me. For the moment. But I want to hear more. Come. Scream 
for me. Let me hear you scream. " 

He released her breasts from her fingers. 

And then to her horror, she saw him drop down to his knees saw him reach for 
her crotch, felt his fingers on her panties. 

"Oh yes," he muttered softly, staring at her patch of pubic hair as he 
pulled her panties down her legs. 

She started once again to struggle, not in any vain hope of stopping him 
simply because there was nothing worse than passively allowing him to 
violate her. Whatever happened, if she survived, she didn't want to recall 
this experience as one she'd tacitly submitted to, without protest-without 
any struggle. 

And so she pulled her hips back, she found strength in her legs again and 
she kicked him. He'd invited it. 

She couldn't bring herself to believe he hadn't invited it. The soft exposed 
throat so open, so vulnerable. 

Her toes were curled back onto themselves as her foot made contact. 

She felt resistance, an obstacle that crumbled, like an egg-shell. 

And then he screamed, clutching his throat, rolling backwards on the floor, 
making sounds that were truly awful to hear. 

"GAK!! " he choked. That was as coherent as he was able to get 

She felt oddly enough, nothing. No joy, no exultation, no triumph. Watching 
him flop around the floor like a fish thrown up on a dock she had a sense 
that she was simply watching a movie-that soon, the closing credits would 
roll past the screen. 

But now he was on his knees, gasping but breathing. 

She watched him turn his face up to her. 

"You will regret that you worthless slut," he said. "You will regret the day 
you were born." 

Polly saw no need to tell him that she was already halfway there. 

He struggled to his feet His face was red. He breathed only with difficulty. 

He coughed. His breath made a terrible wheezing sound. 

And then, he lashed out at her. 

His hands slapped her again and again. 

Harder ... harder ... slapping her everywhere over her body. 

A torrent of blows fell on her face, her breasts, her back. 

And then he reached between her legs and rammed his fist straight up into 
her cunt. 

She shrieked. 

"Silence, you worthless slut " he said. Her body felt swollen. 

She felt the world disintegrating around her. 

He slammed his fist up against her cunt a second time, this blow harder even 
than the first. 

He slipped his fingers deep into her slit. 

He pinched her lips, pressing the tips of his fingers against the fragile 
folds of flesh as harshly as he possibly could. 

He sought out her clit now, digging through the wet membranes of her slit. 

Her nerve bud lay hidden in moist pink layers of flesh, but he found it 
easily. 

His fingernails scraped over her clit She felt the sharp edges. 

She cried out uncontrollably now. She shrieked again and again and again. 

He pinched her clit. He dug the fingernails of his thumb and his forefinger 
against the sides of her clit shaft from either direction, pressed them 
against each other with the bud of nerves in between. 

"Oh God, you're going to cut it off," she cried. 

"Never ... you should be so lucky," he said. "For that way, I could do 
nothing further to it. As it is I've only begun." 

He jerked his hand away, keeping the edges of his fingernail and his 
thumbnail pressed deeply into the hardening bud of flesh. 

The pain was like molten lava sliding through her body. 

It flowed from cell to cell, turning the entire network of her nerves to 
fire, as if a matrix of red-hot wires had been embedded in her flesh and 
only now was slowly activating. Coming to life. Destroying her. Consuming 
her She cried. She writhed. Pulling at the ropes. Straining, jerking. 
Nothing helped. 

The pain increased if she remained motionless. 

It increased if she shuddered. Pain that took on a life of its own, reducing 
time to a static, motionless dimension. 

Infinities passed with each second. 

Momentary increments of time never before taken note of now divided and 
sub-divided again and again, fragmenting into seemingly thousands of smaller 
moments, each one taking centuries to pass. 

Her arms went numb. 

Her legs once more caved in, refusing to support her weight. 

Screaming now, then lapsing into silence, then screaming once more, she felt 
herself transformed. Felt her body metamorphosing into something previously 
unknown, unsuspected. 

Her nerves all grew fully alert, heightened by the vicious sensations they 
were forced to conduct from the surface of her skin to her brain. 

Swelling now ... as if she was literally expanding outside of herself ... 
her mind turning to vapor ... her head growing light.... 

As fingers slid into her cunt hole and spread the rim, she moaned. The sound 
had a strangely inhuman quality about it. 

She would have been unable to recognize the voice had it been recorded and 
then played back to her 

Deeper into her cunt ... pressing harder and harder against the sides of her 
cunt walls, she felt his fingers expanding ... felt them opening ... felt 
the tips of his fingers shove against the soft thin walls of her cunt. 

And she thought "Now ... now is when he will destroy me." 

Images of ripping flesh and fresh spurting blood sullied her imagination. 

Gaspings for breath took what little energy remained to her. 

His face low now, close in ... peering intently at her. 

"You are going to feel more than you ever dreamed was possible, my dear." he 
assured her. 

His cock was out of his pants. She squirmed a last time letting one last 
impulse of energy overcome her, once more forcing her muscles to work 
against all odds, once again trying the impossible, to escape the monster 
and all that he threatened to do to her. 

His cock was stiff, throbbing. 

"You will learn to love it before I finish finally with you." 

Pointing to it as he spoke. Holding it. Stroking it. 

"Spread your legs for me, my darling," said the man. 

She tried to kick him. Catching her foot, gripping it tightly he laughed. 
"Surely you didn't think I'd fall for that twice in a row, did you? Nay, 
nay, my darling. I underestimated you once. I'll not do so again." 

She watched him move his cock closer to her body. 

She watched him press the head against her slit. 

But ... but ... why could she not feel it? 

The truth dawned on her. 

She was dying. That's why. She couldn't feel it because her nerves and her 
brain finally had been beaten into submission, had given up and now were 
waiting passively for the end. 

He lunged his hips at her. 

At that moment, her theory was shown to be wrong. For as his cock rammed 
through the narrow opening of he virginal cunt, a burst of pain so awesome 
and intense wracked her body she came very close to passing out 

But she thought to herself, holding what small measure of triumph to her 
that was still available, I can feel! I can still feel. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Dick Wilson slid his car easily into the Pritikin driveway. 

There were times when he was intimidated by the size of their house, the 
lavish lifestyle they enjoyed, their conspicuous affluence. 

But Polly wasn't affected too much by their wealth. And she had a healthy 
disrespect for her parents that Dick did his best to nurture whenever he 
could without incurring her wrath. 

There were times when she seemed to almost relish the cynical remark, the 
casually scathing observation, the indicting snicker that rejected all her 
parents stood for 

There were other times, of course, when she seemed a bit nervous about 
making too public a spectacle of her rebellion. 

He climbed out of the car onto a perfectly shoveled driveway. They'd hired 
some black to do it no doubt. It was a safe bet that her old man hadn't shed 
any sweat over it. 

Speaking of whom, there was the old fart now, looking out the window. 

Christ, were they never going to accept him? The look on the guy's face was 
clearly hostile. 

No matter. Polly dated whom she chose, and she chose him 

He pressed the doorbell. 

It opened. With a jerk, slamming against the wall. 

Her father stood in the light. 

"Good evening sir--! " Dick began. It was as far as he got. Mr. Pritikin 
shoved the screen door open in his face and reached for Dick's throat. 

"You little shit. Where is she." 

"Wha--! ! " Dick cried, feeling fingers close around his wind pipe. 

"Where is she? What have you done with her?" 

"Hey ... what is this? What are you doing?" 

Mr. Pritikin was livid, and even though the man was a wimp, his adrenalin 
was up enough to make him formidable indeed. 

He slammed Dick against the side of the house and then kicked him bodily off 
the porch into a snow bank. 

"Hey what is this for Christ's sake?" he yelled. But the man was not in a 
mood to answer. He piled off the porch and tumbled into the snow after Dick. 

"You shit. You stupid little turd...." he shouted, slamming his fists again 
and again into Dick's face. He wasn't very strong and did no damage, but it 
was the principle of the thing that got Dick's ass. 

Finally, he'd had enough. 

"I don't want to do this, Mr. Pritikin, but you leave me no choice." 

He plowed his fist through the soft flesh of the man's nose and turned it 
into a soggy red sponge. 

Blood spurted immediately over the snow, brilliant red even in the 
moonlight. 

"Ahhhhh!! " the man cried in pain, clutching his hands to his face. 

"I didn't want to do that, Mr. Pritikin, but I was afraid if I let you keep 
it up for too many minutes more, you might start trying to hurt me." 

"I'LL KILL YOU! " the man shrieked. 

Porch lights were starting to go on ... one next door, one across the 
street. 

"BASTARD!! ! WHERE'S MY LITTLE GIRL!? " 

Now Polly's mother appeared in the doorway. "Herb!" she shouted. "Stop. STOP 
THAT! ! " 

She too was near hysterics. 

Something heavy was happening here, and Dick felt a sinking sensation 
growing in his stomach. Polly's father had said enough for him to deduce 
that something was the matter with Polly. 

He finally jumped the man, pinning his arms behind him. 

Lord, he thought even a wimp can be strong when they're pissed enough. 

"Look, Mr. Pritikin, I don't know what you're talking about but if there's 
something the matter with Polly, I'd like to help." 

The bastard's nose was getting blood all over his new shirt. SHIT! He'd have 
to go shoplift another one! "Do you hear me, Mr. Pritikin? Huh? Are you 
listening." 

Mrs. Pritikin was out in the snow now, not even wearing a sweater, trying to 
calm her husband down. "Herb, come inside, please. This is ludicrous. 
Clearly the boy doesn't know any more than we do." 

The man glared at Dick. "It's all your fault, you damn little shit. Filling 
her head with all kinds of radical ideas. You're a damned commie, that s 
what you are." 

"I'm an Eagle Scout for Christ's sake." 

"Don't you talk that way in front of my wife!" 

"Herb...." Mrs. Pritikin chided. 

"Leave me alone Gladys. I know how to handle this. You gotta take these 
fucking Commies in hand from the start. I know the kinds of shit he's 
pumping into her head. I hear him. I know ... I know. Fucking Commie shit. 
Where is she?" 

He started to struggle and Dick had all he could handle just to keep his 
arms around the man. He said to Mrs. Pritikin as her husband strained to 
break the hold, I What's going on? What happened to Polly?" 

"She's disappeared. It's not like her. No one's seen her since the student 
council meeting today." 

Dick felt a thick wave of sickening dizziness sweep over him. 

It was a bad movie. Things like this didn't happen. There was always a happy 
ending in real life, wasn't there. 

"Can you calm him down? We ought to call the police." 

"You're right, Herb!" 

She snapped her fingers. Once. The man calmed down. 

"That's enough. Herb. You've made your point. You've also got a broken nose. 
I, personally, don't think one was worth the other, but you're the fool, not 
me." 

She nodded towards Dick. "Come in. You must be cold. I certainly am." 

Together the three of them walked to the front door. Soon after, the porch 
lights winked out. 

They came back on again, twenty minutes later when the squad cars pulled up 
in front of the house, and this time, they stayed on all night. 

***** 

His finger sought out her muscles. They were tight. All of them 

"You're like a giant knot." 

She moaned. "You're untying me," she said. 

"Not hardly. I can't believe it." 

Suddenly she jumped. "Oh shit! That's really sore. Too sore. Be careful." 

"Christ Julia, I hardly touched you." 

"I know ... I know ... I can't help it. I'm just so tense." 

Fuck it, Julia. You're letting your job get to you. " 

""No ... that's not so. I'm letting other things interfere with my job. like 
a fear of being uncovered as a sick-o pervert." 

"Thanks , seeing as how I'm your partner in crime. " 

"Steve do you really not see why I'm scared?" 

He pressed his fingers along the ridge just beside her back bone. It was 
almost solid. 

"I see what it's doing to your muscles. You know, rumor has it these things 
are supposed to be soft You're naked, you've got a pair of expert hands 
working you over, if I do say so myself, and you should be relaxed. You 
aren't. I blame your useless worrying." 

"Steve, you didn't see the way she was looking at me. " 

T can imagine. I also think she might have been interested for reasons that 
would shock the shit out of you. 

"What do you mean?" 

He recounted his suspicions about Polly's snooping around his desk, and what 
it might have availed her. 

"I'm telling you, Julia she was transformed when I came back into that room. 
I've heard of hot little nymphets but that was the first time I really knew 
what they were talking about 

"I think you re crazy. She's a little girl." 

"Have you seen her in a T-shirt? She's not that little. Glands like that 
means there's a lot of hormones racing through that blood of hers, and most 
likely making her crotch steaming." 

"You are disgusting " said Julia. She didn't sound convincing, to Steve's 
ears. 

"Listen to me, doll," he told her. "You just calm down No one's gonna do 
anything to you. You owe no one an explanation. You start getting scared, 
that's just going to make you jittery, and THAT will make you fuck up 
somewhere else, and THEN you will owe someone an explanation. Henry 
Scroggins, for instance." 

"Yechh!! " she groaned. "He's so sub-human, don't you think." 

"You're too kind to him. Now hush and let me fix your body." 

She turned her head to the side and took a deep breath. 

Aiming his fingers now like wands to exorcise demons from her body, he 
probed one small pocket of tension and pain after another carefully working 
the tight muscles pressing with increasing tension against the offending 
flesh. She accompanied his movements with small grunts and groans sighing 
deeply, whimpering from time to time, shuddering now and again and jerking 
sharply every so often when he would touch a particularly sensitive spot. 

Soon he noticed a new movement. 

Her hips, subtly pressing down against the mattress and up at his crotch. 

He was straddling her naked body. The bulge of his crotch pressed down on 
her buttocks. 

Along the small of her back now rolling the ball of his hand over her skin, 
then homing in on specific muscles with his thumbs and fingers 

He could hear her breathing now. It was a deep, heavy sound. 

He sensed an over all increase in the small movements throughout her body. 

"Oh that's wonderful, Steve," she said enthusiastically. "I love it I really 
do love it. Don't stop. Please ... don't stop." 

"Don't have any plans of it. darling," he said. He slid down a ways farther 
on her body now. 

He still had his underwear on. 

She'd asked was it necessary to get out of his clothes considering that they 
hadn't eaten yet or anything. 

He assured her that he could give her a much better massage if his movements 
were unhampered by clothing. "I'm not ready to make love," she'd cautioned. 

"Fine with me." he said. 

He let his fingers glide softly over her buttocks now, gathering a hefty 
mass in each hand and squeezing. 

His thumbs slipped down in between her thighs. 

She made no protest and he left them there, not being obvious about their 
presence but not trying to hide them either. 

He could feel her slit. Wet and slick. As it usually was Julia was a woman 
whose biggest problem sexually speaking was an inability and reluctance to 
embrace her sexuality. 

The woman was one hot cunt, and she'd be even hotter if she'd drop the 
bullshit. 

She kept pretending that she was genteel, whatever the fuck someone would 
want to be gentle in a place like Sludge Falls, for. 

No point he figured. And as his thumbs started to do a small dance over the 
rim of her cunt hole, it was clear that she didn't see a lot of profit in it 
either. 

So long as she wasn't required to acknowledge it outright. She'd lay there 
all night long and let him diddle her twat. and then she'd get hot and let 
him slip his cock into her and then she'd let him tie her up, and then she'd 
beg him to whip her and beat the fucking shit out of her ... but she'd never 
just say "Yeah, that's what I want" like an honest person. She had to play 
bullshit. 

Up inside her cunt now. 

Christ, she was wet! A moan escaped her throat. She went tense as a tremor 
shivered through her body. 

She moaned again, letting a light chuckle escape with it. "I thought you 
were supposed to be calming me down. I seem to feel something else 
happening." 

"I'll stop if you say so." 

She moaned. 

His thumbs slid all the way up inside her. 

"Oh Steve." she said, shuddering hard now. "That's delicious. Do it. Just 
like that." 

Pressing against the side of her cunt hole, pulling in both directions at 
the same time, he felt the muscles give way after a token resistance 

His cock was swelling rapidly, turning stiff throbbing. 

"Yeah ... yeah., oh yeah," she gasped, keeping her voice low, as if that 
would make her less obvious as if that would somehow disguise the fact that 
she was quivering inside for his cock, wanting it craving it She raised her 
hips up into the air "Lick it Steve," she begged. "Lick my pus y." 

"Sure, sweetheart " he said, reaching over to the side of the bed, where 
there was a small object sitting on top of the night table. 

He picked it up concealed it in his hand and then, as her ass ascended, her 
thighs spread and her cunt opened he lowered his head and aimed his tongue 
for her cunt. 

The juices were thick. He loved the way she tasted. 

It was a salt flavor 

Light delicate, with a gentle fragrance that made his cock throb and his 
knees weak. 

His tongue slid up into her cunt hole, causing it to start quivering wildly. 

The shuddering movements carried over to her hips to her thighs-all her 
muscles steadily rising in the pitch of their trembling movements. 

She thrust her body backwards now, spreading her thighs farther apart. 

She started to moan and groan, letting sounds come up from her throat that 
were surprisingly incoherent, considering that she was an English teacher. 
Her students would have been property amused. 

"My clit," she said. "Lick my clit " 

"I'll go you one better " said Steve Randall, bringing the small object from 
the palm of his hand where it had been concealed. 

He held it up to the light. 

It gleamed. It was silver. A clamp. like an alligator clip but without the 
jagged teeth. 

The spring was quite powerful, however. 

He reached for her cunt, spread the jaws of the clamp and set them on either 
side of her clit shaft, down at the base. 

It was swollen already, tight and deep red. 

He released the spring slowly and carefully. Her body reacted. 

She screamed. "OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING!! ! ? " 

Her body jerked like a strong electric current had been passed through it. 

Her muscles started to spasm now, purely on their own, no thought involved 
at all. 

He gripped her legs to make certain she stayed in place. 

"Steve what are you doing?" she screamed. "God, that hurts ... oh ... stop 
it. Take it off, whatever it is. Take it off. Take it off!! ! " 

"Shhhhh!" he said. "I'll take care of you. You'll be just fine. Trust me." 

He brought his mouth back to her clit now, opening his jaws and letting his 
teeth close around her clit 

She shuddered again, screaming more loudly than before. 

"Jesus ... Jesus ... don't ... please ... oh God ... please...." 

And then, he stopped nibbling her clit with his teeth and licked it again. 

He let the tip of his tongue glide slowly back and forth over the engorged 
head of her clit. 

Back and forth ... back and forth ... back and forth.... 

A finger in her slit now 

Deeper. 

Deeper. 

Two fingers. 

The clamp around the base of her clit seemed to be forcing the organ to fill 
more tightly with blood. 

She moaned. 

She screamed. 

She buried her head in a pillow and shrieked her lungs out into it. 

The ring of muscles that controlled her ass-hole opened and closed.... 

Opened.... 

Closed.... 

Opened.... 

Closed.... 

She cried out. 

She moaned. 

She screamed. 

She shook. She shuddered. She writhed. She quivered. She trembled. 

If the San Andreas Fault did half the things her body was doing, San 
Francisco could kiss its ass good-bye. 

Four fingers in her cunt now. 

Her hands began to get into the act She slipped her fingers down at her 
cunt, feeling for the clamp. 

"What are you doing?" asked Steve. "Leave it there." 

"It's too much. I can't take it." 

"I said leave it there." 

"Steve ... please...." she said, removing it." 

He sat up in bed. "I'm afraid we just can't have that Julia, my darling. It 
will never do." 

He hopped up from the bed as she collapsed onto the mattress like an empty 
sack. 

She looked up and saw him returning with the scarves ... that rainbow of 
silk scarves.... 

She felt a twitching sensation inside her cunt. A sinking feeling in her 
stomach. 

But, as he'd predicted, she made no protest She watched passively as he 
selected one and pulled her hands behind her back. 

"Oh Steve ... you don't know ... It's driving me crazy. I can't stand it. 
I'm going to go out of my mind." 

"Can't think of a better place to be on a Friday night with snow all over 
the ground. Beats being outside, don't you think?" 

He tied her wrists tightly, not too tightly ... not tight enough to cut the 
circulation or leave a mark. 

Just enough to keep her from meddling. And then, he walked over to the 
dresser, opened a drawer and removed a small leather carrying case. 

"What ... what's that?" she asked, uncertainly. 

I You will see," he replied. 

He snapped that latches, and removed a miniature cat-o-nine-tails. 

She gasped. 

She sat up. It was clear she was going to get off the bed. 

He was on her immediately. "No Steve," she protested now. "I won't let you 
do that. I can't ... I can't ... I" 

Which was silly. Of course she could. She was playing a game, one they both 
recognized. 

Very well ... he'd play his role. 

He'd ignore her. He'd force her back down to her knees, force her to bend 
over again, force her ass up in the air, and then, he'd force her to hold 
still while he tied two scarves together then two more. 

Slipping each around her elbows, he tied the other ends behind her knees, 
drawing them up towards her breasts. 

She fought none too convincingly, but when it was done, she was nicely bound 
... helpless 

That perfectly sweet ass high in the air ... that delicious cunt spread and 
glistening. Her clit distended. 

Her membranes a flaming pink, turning darker and darker as they grew more 
and more saturated. 

He held the small whip in his hand. 

He swung. 

He drew the several strands of leather all of them less than a foot in 
length, directly across her cunt slit. 

Striking her clit. 

Her lips. 

Her ass-hole. 

Her buttocks. 

And again. 

And again. 

The sound of the whip striking her cunt was a wet, splosh of a sound. 

He saw welts rise at once. 

He aimed now for her clit, focusing directly on that engorged chip of 
rock-hard flesh. 

He swung. 

He hit his mark. 

She shattered. An explosion of screams, a flurry of muscle spasms and then, 
silence. Awesome silence accompanied by random shudders throughout her body. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh...." was the one sound she repeated over and 
over. 

The muscles in her arms and legs bulged. They were outlined clearly beneath 
her skin. 

He could trace the contours of her muscles with his fingertips. 

He could also trace the shape of her clit. He ran the tip of his forefinger 
along the perimeter of her clitoris lightly ... so lightly ... light as a 
feather. 

OHHHHHHHHHHH!! ! "came the scream now, violently, turning her body inside 
out. 

An orgasm exceeding any he'd seen coming from her yet. 

Powerful violent ... straining all her muscles, pushing her to her limits. 

At the peak of her arousal, Steve struck her twice more with the whip. 

Struck her directly across her cunt. 

Compared to the sensations her body was creating on its own, his whip was 
puny and paltry. Later, she wouldn't recall him striking her. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Pretty Polly Pritikin suffered pain beyond her wildest imaginings. 

It clouded her thoughts, cloaking her mind in a thick, sickening, 
impenetrable cloud. 

The beast (for that's how she saw him (not metaphorically--literally) 
hovered over her. 

His belt he gripped tightly in his hands. 

He swung the belt now, bringing it sharply across her breasts both at the 
same time. 

Standing to the side of the girl, swing laterally, the strap easily caught 
both mounds of quivering flesh at the same time. 

Her nipples burned like small white-hot coals The nerves within her breasts 
were sizzling. 

She screamed ... softly, for she had no energy left, but in her mind the 
sound was an ear-splitting shriek. 

"You have, obviously, never been exposed to scientific discipline. You have 
much to learn. You have yet to experience the levels of transcendence it 
affords. 

It exists purely for it's own sake. It is all you could desire, the ultimate 
sensation." 

He swung the belt, cracking it across her breasts again. 

"Now, spread your legs, my dear. Spread them. No ... don't pretend you 
cannot understand me. I'll not tolerate such games." 

He placed his foot between her feet forcing her hers to open. 

Splayed, sagging like boiled pasta, her legs loosely extended in opposite 
directions on each side of her. She hung from her wrists, arms stretched 
straight above her. 

She was conscious but that was rapidly fading. 

"No ... no...." he said calmly. His voice was maddeningly calm. She was 
going to lose her mind if she had to listen to that placid, imperturbable 
voice any longer. 

"I'll not allow you to pass out on me." 

He shuffled away. Certain trappings of his Svensen character seemed to stick 
with him ... or perhaps he truly was a doddering old man. Now. She shuddered 
to think what he might have been in the past ... what hideous crimes he'd 
committed, what atrocities. 

He tortured her so effortlessly, with such joy and glee. 

"AH!! " she cried suddenly. Ice water splashed over her face, dripping down 
her breasts. 

"Ya ... very good ... very, very good." 

He chuckled, swung the belt and cracked it over her wet skin. 

She screamed. That icy blast in her face had, unfortunately, revived her. 
Just enough that she could once more feel the pain. 

He said "Your legs, my dear. They still grip each other tightly. It will not 
do." 

She was weak. Too weak to resist. What was the point? He'd already assured 
her there was no hope. She believed him. There was no point in resisting. 

She opened her legs, opened her savaged cunt to the blows of his belt. 

Already the vicious fucking he'd given her had receded into the dim mist of 
fog that passed for her memory now. She remembered the driving thrusts, the 
monstrous size, the stretching the ripping sensation ... the pain ... oh, 
the hot, endless pain. 

Now, a different sort of pain filled her brain. Over and over again, the tip 
of his belt raked across her tender tissues. 

Over and over again, he swung the belt, never seeming to tire. 

He would beat her for about a half an hour. Then, the fluid in his balls 
would have had sufficient time to recoup its volume, his cock would again 
swell and stiffen to a throbbing erection, he would cast the belt aside and 
move toward her 

She came to welcome these times, for he would slip his hands beneath her 
buttocks, raise her up and lower her down onto his cock. 

The pain in her cunt was more than offset by the release from pain in her 
arms. 

That glans ... like a small apple, flared like a mushroom or arrow head ... 
driving into her tightly constricted cunt hole, stretching her viciously the 
full length of her cunt chamber. 

She screamed ... over and over and over again. 

It did nothing to relieve the pain and after a while it scarcely served even 
as a release of any sort. 

Yet she continued, not knowing how to stop. 

Down onto that throbbing cock! Back up again, pulling off ... Dropping her 
back onto the thing. Back up again ... all the way to her hole. Up and down 
... up and down ... up and down.... 

Cunt juice mixed with blood. 

Pain flowed hot and thick. 

Filling her brain. 

Searing her nerves. 

Singeing her cortex. 

Scarring her. 

Destroying her 

Overloading her circuits. 

She felt her body rising ... no ... not her body ... nothing ... but her 
mind ... her consciousness rising above, looking down ... leaving her body 
... leaving this time.... 

Floating backwards in time, away from here.... 

Where is she? 

She's young ... tiny ... a little girl ... twelve ... maybe thirteen.... 

Her pussy is naked but for a few dark hairs freshly sprouted. 

She lies on her bed ... her legs spread wide. Her fingers, stroking her cunt 
slit ... Running up and down ... up and down ... up and down ... oh ... yes 
... yes ... yes ... it feels so good., so delicious ... so warm. 

She's played with herself before, but always her mother's stern admonishment 
never to 'touch yourself down there" prevented her from exploring too long. 

Now ... she feels currents swirling with in her ... she feels the eddies of 
sensation gathering strength. 

And then ... no ... it's murky ... confusing . cloudy ... the door is flung 
open. Who ... who is it? 

Its Miss Gossner..."No Miss Gossner ... No ... Don't! I wasn't doing 
anything!" 

"I II teach you ... I'll teach you. Your parents hired me to see that you 
developed decent habits ... and this isn't one of them ... I'll teach 
you...." 

"Oh God no ... no ... don't hit me with that ... oh no no no NOOOOOO OHHHHHH 
OWWWW!! ! " 

K-krack!! ! ! 

K-krack!! ! ! 

K-krack-k-k-k-k!! ! 

The strap descended. 

Again and again it bit into her flesh. 

Miss Gossner? Or Svensen the beast? 

K-krack-k-k-k-k!! ! 

"Oh ... God ... no ... no ... no ... no...." In and out ... in and out ... 
driving his cock into her 

She feels the pulse of his cock ... she feels the krack of the strap ... she 
is all places at once ... at every point in her life when pain was inflicted 
on her from without.... 

When belts cracked, hand. struck ... whatever ... all come alive now ... and 
they coalesce around the driving thundering pole of his cock like moths 
around a light. 

His cock against the back wall of her cunt ... stretching., stretching.... 

And then ... something else ... vibrations starting within her. Vibrations 
that quickly mount ... quickly rise to encompass her totally. Muscles 
clenching tightly. 

And her single, lone cry into the cold and darkness of the basement room. 

"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhh...." 

***** 

"Oh my God!" 

The shock in her voice was obvious, even out here in the kitchen where Steve 
Randall was mixing more drinks. Black Russian for her, tequila straight for 
him. 

"What's the problem?" he asked Julia as he walked back into the bedroom. Her 
face was white as the snow outside. 

"It's Polly?" 

"Huh?" He turned to the television. The eleven o'clock news was on. 

He turned it up. 

I ... local officials have speculated. She was last seen at approximately 
three-thirty, leaving the student council meeting at the school." 

A picture of Polly flashed on the screen. 

"Anyone with information regarding the girl is asked to call...." 

Steve turned to Julia. "What the hell happened?" 

"She's just vanished. " 

"And for that everyone's getting in an uproar. Kids do it all the time." 

"I don't know. They're getting pretty serious about it." 

"Yeah ... that's just because her old man's the president of the bank. 
Fucker's got all the cops on a string. Damn straight they're going to take 
it seriously." 

"Steve ... there's all kind's of perverts out there." 

"There's a couple in here too." 

"Stop that." 

"It's true. " 

"I don't care. Don't say that." 

"Don't be such a tight ass, woman." 

"I'm NOT a tight ass, you bastard. I think you're a cold-hearted 
sonofabitch, you want my opinion." 

"I don't, but thanks anyway. Here." He handed her the drink. 

She took it "I'm not in much of a mood to party anymore." 

"What are you talking about. A kid takes off on a joy ride, you gotta go 
into mourning. Hell, she's dating that Wilson kid ... maybe they went off 
and eloped." 

"He's helping in the search." 

"Oh." 

He sipped his tequila and nibbled at a lemon. 

"She's a strange girl. Who knows. Maybe she got crazy and decided to go off 
and fuck a biker or something." 

Julia hit him in the arm. "Would you try to be a little serious, for once." 

"Yeah ... sure ... sure...." 

He grabbed her tit. "Like that?" 

"Damn it!" she said, angered. 

"Look. I'm sorry, and I certainly don't want any harm to befall the dear 
little girl, but I'll bet you right now that innocent Polly, even as we 
speak, is in the midst of an orgasm." 

Julia poured her drink on him. 

***** 

"You're fucking crazy," he said. "I know," she said. "You're insatiable," he 
said. "I know," she said. 

"I can't keep up with you," he said. 

"I don't believe that for a second," she said. 

The stereo had gone silent. 

They'd run through his entire collection of "Slut boy Slime and the Mucous 
Membranes", Sledgehammer", and Brain Damage", then moved backwards in time, 
touching a bit of "Blondie", Sex Pistols", some early "Costello and then all 
the way back to Led Zep and some Beatles. 

This had consumed a five hour chunk out of the evening. 

The way Toni Francetti saw it, they were just getting a good head of steam 
up. 

The way J.R. Rodgers saw it she was a madwoman who chewed cocks up like they 
were Herseys Kisses. 

"You're gonna kill me, girl," he said. 

"You don't fool me for a minute, J.R." she said. 

He sighed. 

"Well look, why don't we tube-out a little while, and then--" 

"Do you really think I drove up here to watch television, J.R. Because if 
so, maybe some of your fraternity brothers would be happy to watch me while 
you watch television. How's that sound?" 

"That don't sound worth rat shit to me." 

She chuckled, nibbling on his ear. 

"Somehow, I'm not surprised. But I'll tell you what. For making the right 
decision, I do have a surprise for you." 

"What's that?" 

The coke Randy'd given her remained in her suitcase She didn't want to bring 
it out too soon, for fear that their will-power would disintegrate in direct 
proportion to the amount consumed and they'd wind up snorting the whole 
batch before seven o'clock. 

"Just a little something to help you along on your second and third winds." 

She held up the bag. "Doesn't that look nice." 

"Holy shit," J.R. muttered. 

"I thought you'd like it. Lord, whatever got into you boy? Television. 
Indeed. All that's on is news anyway. We're gonna fuck. Aren't we?" 

She addressed that last question to his cock. 

It didn't answer. Just sat there in her hand, limp and tiny. She wasn't 
fooled, however. She knew she'd bring that boy around. 

***** 

Blanchard Gayner was annoyed. Friday night here he was out in the fucking 
cold. Leading a damn fool search in the snow that wasn't gonna find 
anything. 

But a little girl disappears and there's nothing you can do about it. And he 
was a sworn officer of the law and that meant that he had a moral obligation 
to investigate. 

He was inclined to agree with Herb Pritikin, although he might not have 
taken such extreme measures as the man advocated. 

But hell, if he had a little girl and she up and vanished, he reckoned he'd 
be a little extreme. 

"I say we fucking drag a judge out of bed right now, we put the sonofabitch 
on trial and when he's found guilty we cut his balls off and hang him." 

"Herb," Gladys Pritikin calmly scolded, "I do NOT believe that boy had the 
first thing to do with Polly's disappearance. I just refuse to believe it. 
He's a good boy." 

Well, thought Blanchard Gayner, wishing he was home sticking it to the 
little woman instead of trudging through the snow with a pack of dogs who 
weren't much happier about things than he was, maybe ... maybe not. 

The kid had a good record in school, didn't hang out with that Jordham kid 
and his crowd ... but in Blanchard's mind, the boyfriend's always the prime 
suspect in cases like this. 

Of course, this was the first case like this to hit Sludge Falls in over 
thirty years. 

But he read TRUE DETECTIVE. He knew how the criminal mind worked. He knew a 
pervert when he saw one. 

"Whaddya say, Blanch? Ain't nothing around here it don't seem." 

They were scouring the woods behind Polly's house. 

"Don't seem to be," Blanchard agreed. 

"How about we take a couple these mutts and head over to the school? Could 
be we'll pick up something?" 

"Aw hell, don't be a dumb ass. Someone kidnapped her, they're gonna TAKE her 
somewhere. And it ain't gonna be BACK to school. I swear, Dudley, you just 
have no appreciation of the devious ways in which the criminal mentality 
functions." 

"All right. Where do we look?" 

Blanchard Gayner stroked his chin, drawing on fifteen years experience as an 
active duty cop. "I say we mosey on over to the Kwikburger." 

"What for? No one seen her there. What the fuck you looking for?" 

"A God damned hamburger, you dumb fuck. I'm hungry. Come on, let's go. My 
feet are cold. 

***** 

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh...." she cried. "OH 

JESUS. JESUS. JESUS!! ! " 

"Do you like it?" 

"OH GOD! " 

"Tell me you like it." 

"OH GOD! OH GOD!" 

He drove his cock deeper. The head slammed against the back of her cunt 
wall. 

"JESUS," she shrieked. Her pussy lips spread wide, flaring apart like a 
catcher's mitt. 

In, went his cock. Back out ... back in ... back out ... in and out and in 
and out!! ! 

Harder ... and harder ... and harder ... and harder.... 

"Oh," she cried again, her voice softer now. Nearer a whimper. 

"Ah ... he said, feeling the jism starting to rise in his balls. 

Harder. Harder. 

His hips pulled back. 

He slammed into her. 

He pulled back out again. 

He slammed back into her. 

Each thrust shook her body cruelly. 

Each thrust spread more and more of her thick, oily juices over the outer 
lips of her pussy. 

Each thrust rubbed her cunt walls over the surface of his cock. 

Her cunt was aflame. How many times his cock had stoked the inner tires 
raging through her body, she couldn't possibly have said. 

All faded into a single blur, while the driving sensations continued ... 
over and over. 

And again, the muscles inside her body contracted ... and she felt the 
juices flowing from the heat of her arousal ... and she felt the lips of her 
cunt squeezing him ... squeezing his cock.... 

"Oh ... oh God ... oh God ... I'm dying." 

"No. You'll not die, my darling." 

She stared at him, only half aware of his presence as his cock drove through 
her again and again. He'd come so many times, she couldn't believe that he'd 
managed to get a hard-on again ... but now that the thing was erect there 
was no jism left in his balls to spurt ... to ejaculate, to make the thing 
once more wilt.... 

And so they fucked ... and they fucked ... and they fucked.... 

Her breasts bounced merrily on her body as he slammed their hips into hard, 
grinding contact. 

And then, it hit with blinding force ... another orgasm ... wave after wave 
rolling over her ... filling her body, obliterating her mind. 

He didn't come. He simply fucked her until she no longer moved, and then, 
finally wearying of his sport, he left her. 

And then, he stared at the girl, hanging limp, lifeless as much as dead, and 
he left her there, dangling from the pipes ... left her for the entire 
weekend. 

She would still be there on Monday the man thought to himself with a grim 
chuckle. 

And so the weekend passed. The news spread through the town like flames 
through dry straw so that by Saturday morning there wasn't a soul in the 
town of Sludge Falls who hadn't been alerted to the shocking tragedy. 

In the drug store, in the super market, in the hair dresser's , in the bars 
and the restaurants, the talk was all on one topic. 

"...never happened here before, not that I can remember, and as you well 
know, I go back a good long ways in this town...." 

"Damn shame ... yep ... damn shame ... that's what it is. Young kid, snuffed 
out before she's even got a chance to hit her prime...." 

"Kids ... you never know what they're on about, though do you now? I mean, 
you can't say what was happening here ... now can you? I mean, you don't 
know for sure. Could be she was out whoring herself or something ... you 
never know ... I mean, you get my point, don't you? You just don't never 
know...." 

And on ... and on ... and on...Futility reigned in these conversations. 

Helplessness. And a fear. Would there be more? Was this a pattern that was 
just beginning? A random fluke? Would they find her battered body when the 
snows thawed? And if so, would there be any answers even then?" 

In the Pritkin household, there was only grief, fear, uncertainty and a 
growing sense of dread. 

Likewise, in the Wilson household, where Polly had received a far gentler 
reception from Mr. and Mrs. Wilson than her parents had given Dick. 

Dick felt aimless ... lost. 

It grieved him now, to think of the treachery and deception he'd committed 
with Toni Francetti, a hot body, to be sure, but now ... somehow it all 
seemed to have been painfully disgusting. 

Toni, meanwhile, enjoyed her weekend, blissfully unaware of the events 
transpiring in the town she was all to anxious to leave for good. 

She had J.R. Rodgers in bed and she had her legs wrapped around the boy, and 
she wasn't about to let him loose, not for anything. 

"But I'm hungry, Toni. It's noon. Christ. Can't we eat?" 

"I'll eat you," she offered. 

He looked down between his legs at his cock. 

"Darling, unless I get some nourishment, you aren't going to get a rise out 
of that little sucker no matter what you do. You follow?" 

She looked at it. Shriveled, wrinkled ... kind of silly looking when you got 
right down to it. 

She was all for getting right down to it, actually, and there was always the 
added bonus that if she got down far enough, showed enough enthusiasm, she 
could very well eliminate the silliness. 

"J.R., " she said, "I'll make a deal with you." 

"What's that?" he asked, dubiously. 

"Well ... if I can't get you hard again, I'll buy us breakfast, lunch and 
dinner today. How's that sound?" 

"Stupid. We can eat in the frat house for free. Which is what I want to do." 

She sighed, falling back onto the bed. 

"You are a profound disappointment to me, J.R. Rodgers. You invited me up 
here for a weekend of fucking, and here you are thinking of nothing but 
food." 

He poured himself from the bed to the floor and somehow reconstituted 
himself into a reasonably human shape. 

"You're a maniac. I love you for it, but I'll love you more when I get some 
coffee in me. And some food. How about it? You want some?" 

"No. I want a cock." 

"Don't you EVER eat?" 

"Yeah ... cocks. When they're attached to a guy with some balls." 

He scowled darkly at her, wanted to throttle her, wanted to rape her, but 
didn't want to do either as much as he wanted breakfast. 

He patted her tits. "You stay right there, darling ... I'll be back." 

She watched him go, smiling to herself. It was always fun to watch some 
hot-assed stud like J.R. meet his match. Barely. She was exhausted, but she 
knew one thing for certain, and that was that she wasn't going to leave here 
and stand the chance that J.R. was going to be able to put her out of his 
mind Nope. She wanted that boy to be a drooling fool every time the image of 
her sweet face, or her widely spread pussy lips popped into his brain. 

She knew that the best way to do that was to just sort of slide out of bed, 
wind herself loosely into the robe she'd brought with her, one that wasn't 
exactly see-through, you understand, but which managed nonetheless to convey 
the impression that lots of body parts were being placed on display.... 

And she wandered down the hall, till she came to an opened door. 

She looked in. 

There were five guys sitting there. 

They were clustered around a table. 

There were lights on in the room but they made little difference, so thick 
was the smoke. 

They were playing poker. They all looked like they'd just come off of two 
months on Guadalcanal. 

One looked up and saw Toni leaning fetchingly against the doorway. 

"Well well well, a vision emerges from the smoke. Or into the smoke, 
whichever you prefer. Don't know who you are darling, but you can come keep 
us company anytime." 

She smiled. 

"What's you all doing?" she asked, coyly. 

"I'm developing an embarrassing condition between my legs, that's what I'M 
doing. How about you guys?" 

All five were in their underwear. 

All five were good looking, though not as good a J.R. No matter. They'd do. 

"So, you gonna stay in the door, or you gonna come in and get acquainted?" 

She glided into the room. 

"Who's winning?" she asked. 

"Well," said the one who'd first spoken up, "I think I was, but that was 
back when I was able to keep my mind on the game, something that I don't 
think it's going to be easy from here on out." 

A couple of the others were looking her up and down too, the way a chef 
would survey steaks in a meat market, and the cold appraisals left her 
already itching cunt with a heat that she could feel spreading up through 
the rest of her body. 

Some form of protocol invisible to outsiders seemed to have granted the 
first to speak first prospecting rights, and he now slid his chair back from 
the table and patted his lap. "Come join me, darling. Didn't catch your 
name." 

"Toni," she sad. 

"Well howdy, Toni," said a big hairy-chested type closer to her, looking her 
up and down. "What brings you into our midst?" 

"Oh ... I got lonesome." 

Grunts and groans here, mostly in disbelief. "Who's the fuckhead who went 
off and left you lonesome?" 

"J.R. Rodgers." 

"Shit," grunted the hairy-chested one, "Looks like we're gonna have to 
string that boy up by his balls and kick him senseless for his own good. 
Been acting too strange lately." 

"He was hungry." 

"Mmmmmm ... I know just what you mean." 

She wandered around the table and settled herself down onto the lap of the 
first boy. 

He stared at her like he still didn't believe she was real. "I'm Jack," he 
said, awestruck. 

She let an arm lazily wrap around his neck and leaned against him. 

Her breasts, firm and full, pressed against the tight material of her robe 
and in turn pressed against his arm. He moved his arm closer to her. 

"I say," she giggled, "What are you trying to do?" 

"Prove you're real," he said. 

They went back to playing. She could feel his cock stiffening between his 
legs. For a moment she was almost tempted to take them all on right there, 
right at the table, fuck them in a round robin, get Five pairs of nuts off 
and get back to J.R.'s room before the bastard Finished stuffing his face, 
but that wasn't really what she wanted. 

It was what the Five of them wanted, but having already identified herself 
as with J.R., they were keeping a wary distance, studying her First, letting 
her make the first move ... if it was going to be made. 

She started to make it, but subtly, not letting him quite figure out what 
she was doing. 

She rubbed her hips just a little, moving her cunt slit back and forth over 
his cock. 

Her robe was between them, of course, but she knew that didn't make any 
difference to the sensations that were boiling into his balls at that very 
moment. 

He was holding a good hand. Playing dumb, she asked, "What are those letter 
A's for?" 

There was a pall that settled down around the table. 

His cock wilted. 

Nervous coughs. 

"I'll roll a joint," said Hairy-chest. 

"Oh ... did I say something wrong?" she asked. 

"Shit," muttered Jack. 

"Leave the pot?" said another. 

Muttered grunts, apparently in affirmation. 

The mood turned sullen, nasty. Mean. 

Just then, J.R. walked by. 

"Oh ... J.R.! " she called. "I'm in here." 

He turned, looking in, saw the scene, didn't like it one bit and said 
nothing. 

"You lose something, J.R.? " said Hairy-chest. 

"Looks like I might." 

"Do us a favor, would you? Find it. And take it back." 

He shuffled the cards. He handed them to the guy next to him for a cut. 

Then he looked at J.R. "We was gonna snake you, boy, but damn it, a woman's 
just a woman , but a good game's a genuine metaphor for life, you follow? 
Get rid of her for us." 

"Did I mess up your game?" 

"Yeah, and you probably messed up Jack's underpants too but don't worry. You 
didn't do as bad as he messes them up." 

"Fuck you," muttered Jack, letting Toni slip off his lap and race to J.R.'s 
side. She took his arm and held tight. 

"Bye-bye, boys," she giggled. 

Muttered grunts. 

Poor Jack. He was still staring at her like he couldn't believe she existed. 
She blew him a kiss and J.R. led her out. 

"What the fuck were you-" 

"J.R. honey, we all feed ourselves with the nourishment that works best, 
right? Now ... you can get pissed at me for having a little fun, or we can 
go back to your room and fuck. What do you say?" 

J.R. pondered, mulled over the subject, pondered some more, and by that time 
they were outside his room, so of course he led her inside and fucked her 
eyes out. 

In the process he forgot to mention that he'd heard about one of her fellow 
students disappearing yesterday back in Sludge Falls. In fact, her cunt was 
so hot and warm and luscious, so incredibly inviting and sweetly feminine 
and juicy, he completely forgot the rest of her visit there. He remembered 
after she'd left, but by then, he figured she'd already heard the news 
herself, and besides, Toni wasn't much on forming close friendships. She 
might not even have cared. 

Sunday afternoon, there were sounds echoing through the basement. 

Polly was conscious, but she herself wasn't aware of this fact. 

Concepts, as such, were beyond her tortured brain's capacity to absorb, much 
less explain. 

Suspended still from the pipe to which the demon had bound her, she'd long 
since lost the sensation in her arms. 

Her body, naked, was by now cold and wracked with constant shivering, which 
had the effect of increasing the pain in her arms. 

Her nipples remained taut, from the cold, she told herself. 

Yet, there was an strange warmth deep within her, down in the very deepest 
parts of her body, a warmth she perceived but had no words to describe. 

Coupled with this sensation, strange, bizarre, frightening images flew 
through her mind. 

She saw kindly old Svensen, saw him again in his newer, sinister 
incarnation.... 

And then, in the labyrinth of her twisted mind, he turned into Mr. Randall, 
the history teacher. 

The man stood before her, rope in his hands ... a whip ... He laughed. 

"Polly," he said, "you're looking more beautiful than I can ever remember 
you looking in class." 

She wants desperately to respond, to shut him up with a quick retort, but 
there is only that burning warmth between her legs, overpowering now, 
blotting all other thoughts from her consciousness. 

He approaches. 

Is she dreaming? She must be. What would Mr. Randall be doing down here? But 
he's so real. 

She can almost reach out and touch him ... She does! She reaches out to him, 
touches him, offers her arms-her wrists to him. He is going to tie her. 

He is going to bind her like the woman in that picture. 

Her heart pounds. The blood surges viciously through her body, throbbing at 
her ears, along the sides of her neck, in her temples. 

She feels the most powerful throbbing in her crotch, however, in her clit, 
swelling now with blood, anticipating his treatment of her ... wanting it 
... needing it ... oh God, craving it ... so desperately she can't think 
about it ... she has to simply do it ... go through the paces and permit the 
deed to be done. 

Wrapping around her wrists now ... more and more tightly, pulling them 
together, she feels his eyes on her ... studying her naked body.... 

But no! Her clothes are back on. And she's no longer in the basement. 

Where is she? She cannot identify any of it ... only is aware that it is a 
place no less sinister than Svensen's world ... simply with velvet coated 
edges to disguise the threat ... the menace.... 

He pulls her up ... he pulls her arms tight, above her head, stretching 
them, but not enough to lift her completely off the floor. 

She watches his fingers moving toward her. 

She feels them touching her breasts. 

She feels heat pouring off the tips, heat that flows rapidly into her body 
... heat that charges the center-most part of her soul ... heat that sends 
her already charged passion soaring to the highest peaks of her mind ... of 
her body.... 

"Oh ... Mr. Randall," she says, waiting. 

He removes his coat. 

He loosens his tie. 

He unbuttons his white shirt. 

He pulls the shirt and tie off, and then he unbuckles his belt. She stares 
as his throbbing cock burst into view. 

It seems already to have plunged deep into the depths of her cunt. 

She feels a connection between what her eyes gaze upon and the nerve endings 
in her cunt. 

She feels the electric sensations thus generated rising up through her 
nerves, flooding her already tortured brain with new bursts of arousal and 
hot passion. 

It is something she can't explain, something that is so overpowering now it 
never occurs to her that it might in fact be something that needs 
explaining. 

It simply is. 

It is the fact of her existence. Such things one doesn't question. 

Standing before her totally naked now, she lets her eyes roam over his 
well-sculpted body. Is this as he really looks? 

She prays its so. She wants suddenly for this to be real. She wants to taste 
this experience in the flesh, not in the twisted, misty corridors of her 
savaged mind. 

She wants this. Badly. 

"You are helpless," Mr. Randall says to her. "Do you like the feeling? Is is 
something that frightens you?" 

"Yes," she hears herself reply, and as she does so, his cock leaps, growing 
even stiffer. 

There are veins bulging out from the sides now, both sides, top and bottom 
as well. 

Thick blue veins, like rope woven into a net. 

His glans swells, turns a deeper and deeper shade of purple. 

She looks below the shaft to the sack of balls nestled between his thighs, 
half-hidden but the thick patch of his pubic hair. 

He approaches now. 

She feels her cunt burst into a flurry of tingled excitement. 

Her thighs close instinctively. 

She feels a need to protect herself, to at least put up some token 
resistance. 

She knows it will be futile ... that he will have his way with her ... at 
least ... she hopes he will.... 

Fingers on her nipples now. Touching. Pressing. Pinching ... pulling harder 
and harder. 

"Beautiful," he murmurs. "Simply beautiful. I love your body. Bound ... 
helpless ... you are a thing of exquisite beauty." 

Was that Mr. Randall talking? 

No ... that was something she read in one of her father's books once.... 

Did people talk that way? Did Steve Randall? Oh God, she hoped so. 

Pulling harder and harder on her breasts, he then suddenly let them go. The 
ripe mounds bounced back away from him, springing back into shape, jiggling 
deliciously as they did so. 

All through the mounds of flesh, she could feel the trembling sensations. 

She could feel the driving heat that shot back and forth between cunt and 
breasts ... seeming to grow stronger with each passage. 

He touched her pubic mound now. 

Touched the layer of skin covering her clit, closing tightly around her 
slit. 

Her two lips were tightly pressed together by her thighs. 

He said nothing, gave no commands, made no attempt to force her to do his 
bidding. 

It was purely her own choice, one she desired more than anything. 

She began to moan, feeling those insistent fingers stroking back and forth, 
caressing ... lightly, light as a feather, each small movement over the 
surface of her cunt sending a flurry of nerves into anxious activity, 
blitzing once more a series of delicious, exquisite sensations into the 
center of her brain. 

She jerked back in response.... 

Oh yes ... yes ... yes ... yes ... it's delicious ... it's fantastic ... 
it's exactly what she wants ... and her thighs open ... parting her lips ... 
and his fingers slide up into her cunt.... 

One ... two ... three.... 

They enter her body and stretch the rim of her cunt hole ... stretch it 
gently at first, but increasingly more intensely, wider ... wider ... 
wider.... 

She cries out.... 

"OH ... OH ... oh ... ohhhhhhhh...." It is a long moan, one that boils up 
from the depths of her soul. 

Juice dribbles down her legs. It is thick and slippery, like oil, coating 
the points where his fingers come into contact with her body. 

He pulls his fingers out of her cunt. The pain subsides leaving a warm 
afterglow. 

Up to her clit now, stroking the quivering bud of nerves, back and forth, 
gently ... back and forth ... flooding her with the heat of her lust ... 
back and forth, forcing an impassioned cry from her lips. 

Back and forth, like a sentry guarding the entrance to her innermost 
chamber. 

But she doesn't care. She wants the violation ... wants to be ravished ... 
ravaged ... savaged ... all of it ... any of it. She doesn't care. She wants 
him to do anything.... 

Anything at all.... 

She gasps. 

"OH GOD!! ! " she cries and her eyes jerk open. It's him. 

He's standing before her ... the monster ... Svensen ... eyes glowing like 
chips of coal brought up from the pits of hell. 

"You look a little cold, my darling. I didn't want that you should suffer 
unnecessarily ... so I came with something to comfort you. And something to 
warm your skin." 

He started to chuckle, and he pulled his hands out from behind his back. 

She was too exhausted to tell what it was, but she would know soon enough. 

It was a thick, black, hard-leather riding crop. 

"Ya," he chuckled, "We warm you up good and fast." 

He came nearer. 

***** 

Alas, space considerations prevent a close accounting of the remainder of 
this tale, in this volume at least. However, for you who desire to know the 
outcome of our characters' fates, we gladly summarize them for you. 

Toni returned home, decided to call Dick, learned for the first time the 
story of Polly's disappearance, fingered Svensen (she'd been the last to see 
her, remember) and set in motion the events that saved the girl. After a 
long recovery, Polly discovered she needed more than Dick could provide. She 
left Dick, throwing him into Toni's waiting arms, and went to call on Mr. 
Randall, who greeted her with open arms and now enjoys a threesome. 

Svensen, when he isn't too drugged, plots the fourth reich. More of them all 
in Volume II.
