A Teacher's Torment
[aka 'The Teacher's Friends']
by Morgan Staemayer
(BSS-715)


FOREWORD 

In A Teacher's Torment still another fine story from the pen of Morgan 
Staemayer, we have the fascinating study of what happens to one girl, Jane 
Simpson, when she steps outside of her realm of society and 'reality' and 
tried to cope with the new world around her with an old set of tools, ideas, 
and values. 

Her slow, inexorable, inevitable degradation begins and we see every 
humiliation along the way, thanks to the vividly descriptive powers of Mr. 
Staemayer, who makes her (Jane's) problem both real and universal. 

No one should talk about the effects of marijuana upon one's mind and soul 
until all the evidence is in. Until that time, no opinion can be anymore 
than guesswork. However, even in medical groups, its marked effect on a 
person's libidinal nature is in general agreement. Although some exponents 
of true, pure-science and research will argue, most experts (and certainly 
the users) will agree that ingestion of marijuana will, to some degree, act 
as an aphrodisiac. Sometimes powerfully, as in the dramatic case of Jane 
Simpson. Authorities tend to amend such an attitude by qualifying each case 
with the belief that such latent desires were in the individual prior to the 
use of cannibis sativa and that such a desire would have, sooner or later, 
come to the surface and be recognized. All the marijuana did, such thinkers 
argue, is heighten a feeling that already existed. 

The truth of the above statements is not the purpose of this book nor is the 
author or publishers urging anyone to try marijuana themselves. 

Exactly the opposite is true. Until the real nature of such a drug is known, 
the prudent will do well to avoid it at all costs until such time as medical 
science can tell us exactly what dangers are inherent. 

Jane Simpson might have ended her career in teaching in exactly the same 
way; she might not. Speculation is the proper attitude of investment 
counselors. Drama is the business of the novelist. Here, told with 
compassion and no lack of detail, is the story of Jane Simpson. We, the 
publishers, hope you enjoy it and learn from its implicit lesson. 

-The Publishers 


CHAPTER ONE 

"Dear, dearest Bob," the letter began. 

"I've arrived safe and sound. See? Your future wife can take care of 
herself. I'm excited and tired and dirty and excited (I wrote that, didn't 
I?) and I miss you. Above all, I miss you. To keep away the loneliness, I'm 
working very hard. It is an amazing thing to see. Everyone is so happy I'm 
here and going out of their way to make me comfortable and content. The 
children are adorable and so eager to learn. I feel very useful. And I miss 
you. Please understand my-enthusiasm. I'm using it as a shield against my 
need and love and desire to be with you." 

She signed her name, Jane, with love and kisses, folded the letter neatly, 
put it in an envelope, sealed it, wrote out Bob's address back east - 
Boston, to be exact - licked a stamp, thumped it with her fist and sat back 
in her chair with a yawn so deep it curled her toes and stretched her arms. 
She looked at the clock and yawned again. It was only eight thirty but she 
felt like it was 2:00 A.M. 

She had been driving all day over the flat tabletop land of Kansas, 
determined to get to her destination before dark. Everything in Kansas 
seemed much closer than it really was. Or maybe it seemed further away. She 
shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She was so tired, she couldn't think 
straight. 

She got up and moved around her little camper in a loose sleepy way, 
straightening up, smoothing out the bed then checking the curtains on the 
windows before undressing. Jane, just turned twenty-one, on her own for the 
first time in her life, had a voluptuous young body. She kicked off her 
cowgirl boots, wiggled her tight tantalizing hips out of her jeans and took 
off her checkered blouse, throwing all of her clothes in a hamper and stood 
in her bare feet, clad only in a bra and thin white little panties. 

Her body was Jane's biggest problem and a source of concern to her fiance, 
Bob Eggers, far away in Boston. It was simply too good. It had been a source 
of concern and near-raging frustration when they were together in Boston. 
Jane couldn't help it. Physically, she was at the zenith of her life. Later, 
if she wasn't careful, she would have a weight problem. Now, she was just 
right, filled out to the utmost in all the right places. Her breasts were 
large and heavy yet firm and pointed in a way that could only bring 
attention to them. They were fine protruding melons, smooth and perfectly 
round. 

Her stomach was slightly rounded and soft as a baby's breath, yet firm. Her 
buttocks were like sponge rubber and constantly undulated in a provocatively 
teasing way whenever she walked or even moved. Had she been short, her 
figure might have been too heavy, but she wasn't short. Jane's legs were 
long and equally well-formed. When she wore her jeans, her thighs seemed to 
protrude enticingly and her whole lower torso directed attention to her 
pubic mound which seemed to snuggle in her warm soft flesh like a prize to 
be sought. 

It was her face that took people back. With such a figure one would expect a 
girl with a showgirl face. Yet, Jane Simpson came from a very old and good 
Washington family. Her profile was elegant, almost regal and aloof. In fact, 
when she had pulled into migrant workers' camp earlier that day, when she 
stepped out of the bus and was greeted by the workers and their families, 
the men present had taken their hats off. This was a lady. She was also a 
schoolteacher and Jane went about her business with an efficient enthusiasm. 
Before she was through, she had already formed classes, distributed books 
and assigned students times and tasks. 

And she had loved the people. Always, she had felt she wanted to help what 
she called "the common people, the people who are the backbone of this 
nation". Now her chance had come and she was elated, floating on air. For 
one year she would travel through the southwest, teaching young, 
underprivileged people who had never had a chance to set foot in a school. 
Sponsored by a private foundation that her uncle was head of, she had 
browbeat him, her family, and Bob into letting her have a chance at doing 
something worthwhile. She was persistent and eloquent in her campaign and 
finally won reluctant approval. Bob had been the hardest to convince. No 
matter how they had discussed the project, he simply couldn't see her going 
off by herself with "a lot of goons", and not seeing him (except for 
vacation visits) for one whole year. Jane tolerated his remarks up to a 
point, then she accused him of being a bigot. Bob, his handsome face serious 
and dark, had nodded with a growing anger. "Oh, so that's it now, huh? I 
don't understand the working man and I have no compassion for my fellow man. 
I have no humanity, huh? Let me tell you, I was in the army and I saw those 
guys in action. I'm not being a bigot, I'm being realistic. Jane, for God's 
sake, there's a difference between being real and being poor. We both know 
some well-to-do people who are pretty real, too. Just because a person is 
poor doesn't always mean they're nice." 

Standing in her camper, Jane unclasped her bra and her breasts seemed to 
leap with elation, glad they were free. They stood out, causing a deep and 
sensual cleavage as they shook slightly as she walked. She shook her head 
sadly. Her parting with Bob had not been good. Hooking her thumbs into her 
panties, she wiggled out of them, peeling them off as if they were a second 
skin, her buttocks quivering and shifting. She stood erect, naked, her 
lovely long body soft and sensual in the dim light of the camper. Her hands 
softly ran down over her nakedness, feeling the firm curve of her hips, the 
slimness of her waist and the full voluptuous richness of her breasts, her 
nipples hardening slightly as she rubbed her fingers over them. 

She closed her eyes and thought of her last evening with Bob. He had taken 
her out to dinner that night, a night of farewell for almost a year. He had 
drunk too much during dinner and had insisted on going to a favorite bar of 
his near the Commons where all his advertising friends hung out. 

He had drunk too much, finally getting surly with her. Reluctantly, Jane 
asked to be taken home. Having worked in the mail room of Bob's advertising 
agency, she had her own little apartment. Outside her door, although still 
drunk, Bob became contrite and apologized, asking if he could come up to say 
goodbye. Jane was relieved and let him come up and placed him on a couch 
while she made strong black coffee in her kitchenette. 

Bob had been good for awhile, drinking the coffee and asking for a refill. 
Jane understood; after all, she was leaving the man she was going to marry. 
It was a big moment in her life and she wanted it to be right. She 
rationalized that Bob drank so much because he was so upset. 

Then he began to get amorous. And that too, was all right. She loved Bob, 
wanted to marry him and be his wife and the mother of his children. Always, 
she wanted to give herself to him, for she felt passion sweep through her 
body like a brush-fire as he grew bolder and more forceful. Her long black 
hair fell loose under his fumbling and he had her bent back on her couch, 
her breasts jutting upward under her dress in a brazen invitation. She had 
struggled, trying to push him away with a warning, "Bob!" 

Usually one admonition from her was enough. But not that night. Her 
struggles only seemed to excite him all the more as he looked down and saw 
her syrupy young body writhing sensuously under her dress. Then his hands 
were on her thighs, stroking them, exploring boldly and roughly. "Bob! St-" 
was all she could get out before he kissed her hard on the mouth. Jane made 
the mistake of relaxing for a minute. It felt so good with his arms crushing 
her and his mouth on hers. It was all the encouragement he needed. He was 
like an animal, grunting and breathing through his nose. His hot tongue shot 
into her mouth and she stiffened against her own desire to do the same. 

It seemed like he had fourteen pawing hands and they were everywhere, all 
over her body, as he pushed her down on the couch and was half on top of 
her. "Bob!" she exclaimed, pulling her mouth free for a moment, "For God's 
sake, stop this!" 

"Why?" he snarled and Jane looked at his face, her eyes wide. He was drunk, 
unreasonably drunk, and didn't know what he was saying or doing. When he had 
been quiet and polite before, he had simply been numb. Now the alcohol had 
triggered a deep desire in him and his eyes were glazed and unseeing, his 
face was twisted in a way she had never seen before and his breath reeked of 
scotch. "Why?" he asked again, taunting. "Give ya a li'l goin' way present," 
he said thickly, "Gonna do it for those workers anyway." He looked boastful. 
"You're gonna do it for your fee-ance-say." He laughed hard and low and 
started pawing her body again, pulling her dress up with a sneer on his 
face. 

"Bob, this is me, Jane," she said in a frightened voice, trying to penetrate 
his alcoholic fog. "Bob don't ruin it all. Stop. Please. Remember our 
promise!" The promise she was trying to remind him of was one they had made 
long ago. No sex until marriage. Jane's parents trusted her to live alone 
and it seemed the least she could do was to honor their trust. It seemed 
silly and old fashioned, yet she liked the idea of going to her marriage bed 
knowing that she was giving herself for the first time to the man she loved. 
Bob had agreed reluctantly and had been good about it until tonight. 

Now his hand was between her legs and her dress had been forced up to her 
hips, exposing the thin white crotch band of her panties. Her long naked 
legs writhed on the couch and she tried to close them and only succeeded in 
trapping Bob's probing hand between her strong thighs and guiding it to her 
nylon covered pubic curls and the softly throbbing lips of her vagina 
beneath them. "Ohhhhh, Bob!" she moaned as she felt his hot hand close over 
the thin protective material of her panties and a hot rush of pleasure throb 
through her belly. "Bob, for God's sake stop!" she cried, fighting harder 
now, fighting her own desire as much as his strength. 

She struggled, managing to upset him slightly and getting her hands free. He 
attacked her again, a guttural snarl in his throat, drunkenly lashing out 
and catching a shoulder of her dress and pulling at it with all his 
strength, turning her half around with his force and ripping the dress down 
the front. "Bob Simpson, you're drunk and crazy!" she yelled, going on the 
defensive, trying to hold her dress together. 

He stared at her like she was a stranger. "Crazy, huh?" he mumbled. He 
reached and tore at the dress again, ripping it away from her body and 
revealing her milk-white breasts quivering under her bra. A lewd grin came 
over his open mouth and two brutal fingers hooked themselves in the bra and 
tore with relentless force. The bra snapped and was torn from her body and 
Jane tried to hide her now naked breasts with Bob, cupping the nipples 
defensively as Bob fought with her hands. He pulled one hand free and his 
mouth clamped on the naked tip like a suction cup and Jane struggled, her 
head back, his hot mouth sucking at her nipple making it grow hard and taut. 
"Bob, stop, stop before it's too late, oh, God, stop!" she pleaded softly as 
she struggled, subdued, her body writhing in a kind of sensual rhythm to the 
inner pulsating of pleasure she was feeling involuntarily rising in her 
body. 

Her dress was now a torn rag with Bob's hands tearing, pawing, caressing and 
the one hand still between her legs and the fingers massaging her vagina 
through her rapidly moistening panties. One finger protruded, forcing the 
band between her rapidly swelling and parting vaginal lips. The nylon of her 
panties, aided by his ravaging finger was hurting her and yet exciting her 
at the same time as it worked its way inexorably toward her vagina and 
clitoris. She felt a dampness of excitement between her legs and her breath 
was coming deeper and faster. 

He bent her back again, the small of her back bending over one padded arm of 
the couch and her head fell back and her breasts jutted upward all the more. 
More quickly than she thought he could move, his mouth flew to her other 
breast and his tongue licked at the nipple as his lips closed over it and 
sucked. He sucked hard, hard enough to hurt. But it didn't, it felt good. It 
felt very good and aroused a dark passionate side of her that had remained 
dormant except for wild lewd dreams she sometimes had. Now she was nearly 
naked and helpless and loving it! Her mouth parted in a slow, lewdly 
accepting smile and she felt as if her whole body was swimming in warm 
butter and Bob's mouth closed over her heatedly pulsating breast was driving 
her mad! 

Then, grunting, he started taking off his own clothes, pulling his pants 
down and kicking them off. He fumbled for a moment then squirmed over on top 
of her and she felt his heavy hard weight on her nearly naked body as his 
arms kept her from falling over the arm. And she felt something else! For 
the first time since she had known him, she felt his hot male hardness 
pressed against her thigh! It was so exciting and lewd! "Bob!" she murmured 
again. "Oh God, Bob!" 

But now one of his arms reached down and he slid his fingers between her hip 
and the panties and began pulling them down, tugging wildly, then lost all 
control and ripped them completely from her helplessly squirming loins. 

"No, no, no!" she pleaded, but it was too late, the panties were torn away, 
the tattered remnants hanging loosely down on one thigh. He had accomplished 
his purpose, her vagina was nakedly exposed along with the softly curling 
down of her pubic hair. Jane, moaning helplessly now, felt his cock, huge 
and throbbing, press forcefully between her thighs and he pushed down hard, 
then began pumping slowly back and forth. "Bob, stop, you've got to! I'll 
never speak to you again! Stop!" She groaned helplessly beneath him, her 
long silken hair flailing vainly from side to side. 

Yet he couldn't stop, possibly couldn't even hear her as he went about 
prying her legs apart with his one hand while his other hand bent her back 
over the arm of the couch and his mouth greedily sucked at her breasts, 
leaving the nipples tense and wet. Slowly, with brute force, his nails 
digging into the insides of her thighs, he forced her legs open and, as she 
cried out, she could feel his thick prick slip between her legs and the 
blunt end of it push against her involuntarily lubricated cunt, spreading 
the eager vaginal lips and something in her turned to jelly. It felt so 
lewd! She remembered the thought going through her mind: if I had known how 
good it was, I'd do it all the time! 

A shudder of wild, unwanted pleasure racked her body, relaxing all of her 
muscles and she closed her eyes with a long sigh that dropped down into a 
moan as she felt the smooth, rubbery head of his cock slipping up, its path 
lubricated by her growing excitement, spreading her vaginal lips until they 
hurt. But they hurt deliciously. Despite herself, her hips wiggled and 
undulated and her cunt, the tingling edges of her vagina, throbbed in 
growing hunger. 

Bob felt her responding underneath her and shifted his weight, pulling back 
and gazing at her naked body with the tattered remains of her dress and 
panties still clinging to it and he grinned like a greedy and lewd rapist, 
his eyes glazed with alcohol and desire. He pulled her down on her back on 
the couch and pressed his body harder down on top of her, causing her to 
gasp for breath, his cock again probing, searching hungrily for her 
defenseless young cunt. 

If she hadn't seen his face, she might have gone on, she might have followed 
her equally wild desire and given herself to him. No, it wasn't right! He 
was drunk and brutal and probably wouldn't even remember the next day. She 
wasn't Jane, his love, the woman he was going to marry. She was at this 
moment, anybody, a naked female body to ravish! 

Her upbringing her sense of honor and her love for the tender Bob came 
welling up, dampening the passion. Putting her hands on his shoulders and 
using every bit of strength she had, she closed her eyes and shoved and 
twisted him to one side. She caught him by surprise in his drunken stupor 
and he tried to grab her but it was too late and he fell off the couch and 
crashed to the floor on his back, his head hitting a corner of the coffee 
table on the way down. He fell with a crash and lay still, his eyes closed. 

"Bob?" she called softly, covering her breasts and drawing her knees up as 
she looked down at him. "Bob, are you all right? Bob don't play games, 
answer me!" Concern made her widen her eyes and with a little cry, she 
slipped off the couch and knelt beside him, naked, her breasts practically 
hanging in his face as she bent to hear his breathing. With a sigh of 
relief, she pulled back one eyelid and only saw white. 

Her fear made her forget she was naked and she got to her feet and ran 
across the room, her buttocks swaying, her breasts bouncing, as she fled to 
the bathroom and came back with a cold washrag. She knelt by him again and 
was startled by a loud snore coming from him. She laughed, more in relief 
than anything. He had simply passed out! 

She sat next to him, weak with relief, applying the cold rag to her own 
forehead. She looked down at him and at his exposed penis, still half erect, 
sticking out of his underwear. She bent over it and examined it closely. A 
wild thought was in her mind, something that she wanted to do, something 
with her mouth, so lewd and obscene, she didn't dare give it a name. With a 
shudder, she pulled herself back. Only perverts and prostitutes did a thing 
like that. 

She had put on a bathrobe and made a bed for Bob right there on the floor. 
He had been too big and heavy and too deeply asleep to move. She had gone to 
bed to toss and turn, excited by the coming morning and the night with Bob. 
Before she dropped into a restless exhausted sleep, she thought: I've got a 
lot to learn about myself. 

And now, in the camper, naked, feeling again the lewd promise and thrill of 
that night, she pulled on a robe and stepped into shower clogs, picked up 
the letter, a bar of soap and a towel and stepped out of the trailer into 
the hot Kansas night. Above were the stars in panoramic display, slowly 
wheeling overhead with the Milky Way on display, full of more stars then she 
could count and a luminous dust. It was so beautiful and she thought of how 
few stars one could see from Boston. 

She stood for a moment, letting her eyes grow accustomed to the dark. The 
migrant worker camp was surprising to her, a lot cleaner and neater than she 
had expected. The workers lived with their families in little cottages with 
the single workers, make and female, living in separate barracks. Jane 
peered around, trying to get her bearings. There weren't too many lights on 
except for the houses and barracks because there wasn't any need for them. 
She tried to remember where the mailbox was. It probably was down by the 
admissions office. The office was run by a Mrs. Ramon. Maria Ramon, a young 
Mexican-American widow, her husband having been killed last year in a 
harvester accident. Beyond the admissions office was the shower room that 
everyone in the camp used. 

Jane set off at an assured pace, walking across the parking area and 
striding up to the office. It was dark and she thought she could let herself 
in, drop the letter to Bob in the mailbox inside and go take a much needed 
shower. Her hand was on the doorknob when she froze, hearing a sound. She 
looked around quickly. What was it, a wild animal? Her heart was pounding 
against her ribcage as if it were trying to batter its way free when she 
heard the sound again. 

"Oooooooooh!!!!" The sound swelled and grew high and Jane stepped back from 
the door, not knowing what to do. "Ohhhhhh," she heard the same voice say, a 
full octave lower. "Oh, baby, Chico, do it, do it, DO IT!!!" 

Jane was stunned. Maria Ramon, the voice had to be Maria's and she was not 
alone. As she stood, rooted to the spot, she could hear other sounds coming 
from inside, small sounds that were suggestive of... She shook her head and 
started to walk quietly away, figuring that what was going on in the 
admissions office was none of her business. 

Then, a deep dark cry from inside made her stop in her tracks again. It was 
possible that Maria was in trouble. It could be. Jane's brow wrinkled in an 
unaccustomed frown and her elegant society good looks were worried. On an 
impulse, she turned and tip-toed to the window next to the door. Licking her 
lips, she looked around, trying to see if anyone was out. It wouldn't look 
right if, on her first night in the camp, she was discovered peeking in 
windows. 

Nothing moved in the camp and far out over the fields, she heard the lonely 
sound of a dog howling at the moon. She stood on tiptoe and looked in the 
window. What she saw almost made her scream. There was a cot right by the 
window on which Maria - or whomever was on duty-sometimes slept during the 
harvest season when people were arriving and leaving at all times of the 
night and day. 

And Jane was looking down on Maria lying stark naked on the bed with a man 
who was also naked! Maria was in rapture, her head thrown back, her mouth 
open, her eyes closed, her arms thrown above her head as the man's hands 
rhythmically massaged her naked breasts with his bare hard worker's hands. 
Maria's knees were bent out as far as they could go and pulled up crablike 
and spread wide, exposing the whole of her moistly glistening cunt to the 
man. Jane couldn't see his face because it was buried tight up between her 
thighs, his tongue and mouth licking like he was a starving beast and Maria 
was writhing, twisting, moaning with pleasure as she suddenly grit her teeth 
and hissed, "Eat it, eat it, ohhhhh, eat me up!" 

Jane leaped away from the window as if she had just gotten and electric 
shock, her hand over her mouth. 

She spun on her heel, jamming the letter into the pocket of her robe and 
half-running, half-walking toward the showers. She had never imagined Maria 
Ramon to be like that! She was going to have to revise her opinion of her. 
She clenched her fists. She was going to do something about things like 
that! She would use all her moral force to stop perversion like that! She 
didn't know who the naked man was, but she would find out and bring conduct 
like that to an end! 

She was almost shaking with indignation and rage as she followed the sign 
and painted arrow that said, WOMEN, and stepped into the showers. It was a 
big room, lean, dimly lit by a single bulb near the ceiling. Stalls, open on 
one side, lined one wall. Jane, trying to forget what she saw, turned a 
nozzle and water leaped out of a shower head in a fine needle spray and, as 
she held her hand under it, she felt it grow hot and steam rise up around 
her. She grinned in relief and quickly took off her robe and stepped nakedly 
out of her shower clogs while adjusting the cold water, getting the shower 
just right and stepping under it with a contented sigh. 

CHAPTER TWO 

Jane was soaping her body with great bubbling globs sliding slowly down her 
body, outlining her shape magnificently. She scrubbed soap into her hair, 
her eyes squeezed shut and soon had a great mass of soap making her hair 
thick and slippery. A sound, the sound of someone moving, made her open her 
eyes and say, "Oh!" as soap stung in her eyes. She had just time to glimpse 
a figure standing looking at her! 

"Ah, you got soap in your eyes," a voice said. 

The stinging of the soap was too much for Jane to answer. It was a woman's 
voice and Jane could only sputter a laugh. Never before had anyone come into 
her bathroom while she was bathing and it was a new experience to her that 
came right on top of her having discovered Maria Ramon in all her lewdness. 
She bent over and rubbed hard at her eyes, finally managing to say, "I'm 
sorry, you startled me." 

The woman laughed. "You're the new teacher, ain't you?" 

Jane could only nod her head. The thick shampoo she had lathered on her hair 
was oozing down over her face and she hopped under the shower on one foot 
then on the other, squealing as the soap seemed to seep between her tightly 
shut eyes. 

The woman was older, maybe thirty-five, with short cropped blonde hair and a 
tomboy kind of good looks and she took in Jane's lovely lithe body all wet 
and glistening with water and suds sliding down her firm, well-formed 
thighs. The woman's mouth opened and her eyes became wet looking as she 
watched Jane's firm, sensuous young breasts shake and quiver as her buttocks 
squirmed and a streak of white bubbly soap slid down the small of her back 
and then slipped, like mercury, into the deep crevice between her wetly 
glistening buttocks. 

"Here," she said, snapping out of her reverie and hastily taking off her 
robe, revealing a good figure of her own. A little heavy but firm for a 
woman of her age. Her small firm breasts gave an illusion of youth and 
boyishness. She stood naked, looking at Jane's body once more before saying, 
"That's no way to get soap out of your eyes. You've got to rinse them. Bent 
over that way, all you're doing is getting more in your eyes. Stand up." 

Something in the woman's voice, a warmth, an intimacy, made Jane obey and 
she straightened as the woman took in her breasts with a hungry look that 
narrowed her eyes and made her lips twitch. "Tilt your head back," she said, 
stepping back, her hands on her hips, checking the length of the stalls to 
see if anyone else had come in. Then, her head snapped back and she stepped 
closer, water spraying on her body in a fine mist, the nipples of her 
breasts tightening and becoming pointed. "That's it!" she said. 

Her hands stroking her thighs, she watched Jane spread her legs, standing 
straddled and leaning back so that the overhead shower sprayed directly into 
her face. Her rib cage stuck out and lifted her full, globular breasts high 
and brazen as the woman stepped closer, her eyes half closed and her face 
set. Jane's pelvic bones jutted provocatively as she thrust her hips 
forward, unknowingly, toward the woman whose hands were held out toward 
Jane's groin. 

The woman licked her lips and put her hands behind her as Jane straightened 
and blinked one eye. "You getting it?" she asked. 

"I... I think so. I feel so stupid!" 

The woman laughed. "Happens all the time. You haven't gotten it all out yet. 
I can see some in your other eye." 

"Rats!" Jane said, rubbing her face. 

"Lean back again," the woman said, stepping forward, "Here, let me help 
you." The woman put her hands around Jane's waist. 

Jane blinked at the woman, stiffening a bit at her touch. The woman seemed 
pleasant and smiling. "Hi," she said, "It's about time we got introduced. My 
name's Rachel Cain. You met my husband, Ned Cain? He's a foreman over on the 
Hawkin's farm and he runs this camp. Your name is Jane something or other." 

"Simpson," Jane said. "Nice to meet you, Rachel, even if I can't see you too 
well." 

"Well, we sure will take care of that, honey, just you lean back and relax. 
You got Rachel here to hold you." 

Jane smiled timidly, looking through one bleary eye with the other squeezed 
tightly shut. She seemed like such a good woman, one of the common people, 
the backbone of the country. Simple country folk. Hard working people who 
were used to a rough life and helping one another. Rachel was good looking 
with the kind of windblown, sun-blasted, wide-open face of a mid-western 
woman. She was probably used to ordering people around. She remembered her 
husband as a big man in western clothes with a silver buckle on his belt and 
a tanned face under a straw cowboy's hat and hard blue eyes. Simple hard 
working folk. 

"Come on, honey, just you lean way back," Rachel said, stepping closer and 
spreading her legs for balance and gripping Jane tighter around her slim 
waist. It seemed as if Rachel's strong arms could fit all the way around her 
and join hands. 

Jane smiled and said, "Okay." She leaned back and raised her hands to rub 
her eyes. The water poured into her face and she felt Rachel's grip around 
her waist tighten. 

"Lean way back, now. Don't worry, I can hold you." 

Jane leaned back with a smile on her lips and felt her thighs press against 
Rachel's. She was surprised by the firmness of her body as then-hips were 
pressed together. She felt Rachel's grip shifting on the small of her back, 
Rachel seizing her wrist with the other hand and making a fist, and then 
pulling Jane closer. 

"Oh!" Jane said. It was only a small sound, one of wonder rather than 
surprise. She felt Rachel's firm body against hers. Their groins were pushed 
together and was it her imagination or was Rachel crushing her pubic hair 
into her loins? The hot water showering down on both of them, soaking their 
bodies, lulling Jane and making her think - for no reason at all - of the 
night when Bob had her bent helplessly back over the arm of the couch and... 
it felt so good! 

"I... I think I'm fine now." 

"No, not yet, you still got some in your eyebrows and a whole lot in your 
hair." 

"I can see." 

"Jane honey, you stand up and that pretty long hair of yours will flop in 
your eyes and you'll be in it all over again. Ain't you ever washed your 
hair in camp showers before?" Rachel gripped her tighter in the hollow of 
her back, right above her glistening buttocks that were so taut and rounded. 

"N-no," Jane said. Rachel was bending her further backwards, bending her 
knees and pressing her thighs and hips tight together. Especially the hips! 
Did Rachel realize what she was doing? The way Jane's legs were spread, her 
vaginal lips were spread slightly and she could feel the other woman's pubic 
hair tickling up and down the length of it. 

"You a city girl?" 

Jane nodded. She didn't want to talk. Rachel was just a good soul who 
probably put in a hard day's work and wasn't used to formality. Simple 
direct country manners. All she was doing, Jane told herself, was lending a 
helping hand. Yet, did she have to do it this way? 

Jane raised her arms further and shook her wet hair while her breasts 
jiggled and shook provocatively in front of Rachel's hungry gaze. Rachel 
closed her eyes, her mouth open, and fought for control before saying, "Not 
yet. Here, let me show you, here's the way we do it in a camp shower. Just 
you relax and trust old Rachel." 

; Jane tried her best to relax as she felt Rachel forcing her body to swing 
to the right. Her hands flew out and she blindly tried to grab Rachel for 
balance, her one hand seizing her breast and then flying away. 

Rachel laughed. "Just you relax like I said, I'm just going to swing you 
back and forth under the shower, that's all." 

Again, Jane tried to relax, her arms falling back as she let Rachel swing 
her body and head back and forth under the shower. It felt so good and like 
being high in a tree and feeling the wind blowing the branches in a sleepy 
rhythm. She enjoyed the sensation and the feeling it made in the pit of her 
stomach. Her stomach! A warm lubricated feeling was flowing into her groin, 
filling her hips with pleasant tingling as she felt Rachel's pubic hair 
rubbing hard against her open vagina, making the soft membraned walls of her 
cunt tremble with a strange delight. And, with a catch of her breath, she 
realized that the tiny nub of her clitoris was free and being ground into 
Rachel's somewhat coarse pubic hair and the sensation was electrifying 
and... good. It was very good and growing better with each swing back and 
forth. Again, she found herself wondering if it was her imagination or was 
the camp boss's wife thrusting her own groin forward, grinding their hips 
tight together and causing her helplessly to thrill to the feeling now 
throbbing in her cunt as Rachel's voice crooned over and over, "Thatta girl, 
that's right, nice and easy, just relax and let your body go limp and keep 
your head back. That's it, nice and easy, thatta girl, nice and easy we go." 

Outside, the camp was still. No, there were shadows moving along one 
building. Soon, figures emerged. Young boys, no older than sixteen. One boy 
walked boldly toward the showers, the obvious and natural leader of the 
group. Just turned sixteen, he was slightly taller than the rest and had a 
freckled face and blonde hair and a little confident smile that made 
everyone remark that he looked just like his Dad, John Capp, the county 
sheriff. Stevie Capp led his friends on their nightly ramble. They usually 
met in an arroyo outside the camp and waited for dark, smoking marijuana 
they got from a hippy commune nearby and made plans for the coming evening. 

This particular night, none of them, including Stevie, had any money, so 
that cancelled a trip ten miles down the highway to the local whorehouse. It 
was a strictly cash operation and Stevie knew he couldn't throw a scare into 
them through proclaiming he was the sheriffs son because his old man, John, 
got paid handsomely each month for ignoring the operation. Besides, the 
bouncer there was a hard-nosed ex-fighter who didn't like Stevie ever since 
the night he had poured beer all over his head. 

After they had finished smoking their marijuana, passing a joint back and 
forth, it looked like it was going to be a dull night unless they took the 
trip all the way up into the mountains to the hippy commune, like they did 
last weekend, and gang bang one of the girls up there who got stoned on 
Christ-knows-what and were willing to do anything. But the commune was a 
long drive on dirt roads and really a weekend thing. Finally, they decided 
to sneak around the camp and see what they could find. They hit pay dirt at 
the admissions office, taking turns watching old Maria get her ass fucked 
off by Tom Haines. Tom was another tough one who didn't like Stevie. In 
fact, few people liked Stevie, feeling he was a smart-aleck kid too big and 
brazen for his britches who got away with murder because his old man was the 
county sheriff. Had his father been anyone else, Stevie would have been in 
juvenile hall long ago. John usually grinned when he heard about Stevie's 
exploits and smoothed everything over, explaining Stevie away by saying, 
"He's just sowing his wild oats, that's all. Always been a wild kid and 
never had no mother to raise him." It was true, Stevie's mother had died 
when he was an infant and John raised him and maintained law and order in 
his bailiwick at the same time. 

All of which had little to do with Tom Haines who was fucking Maria with all 
his might. The boys took turns, looking through the window at naked Maria 
with her legs jerking wildly in the air as Tom fucked away for dear life. 

After they were through and Tom hauled himself to his feet to stagger away, 
the boys ducked and resumed their wanderings, staying in the shadows, 
slipping up to dark windows to peek in, their eyes glazed by the pot and 
their minds horny from what they had seen. 

It was Stevie who led them along the back of the women's shower, pausing 
where he knew each stall was and listening for the sound of water. Finally, 
at one stall, his grin tightened on his handsome hard face. Someone was 
taking a shower. 

Motioning to his companions to be quiet and pointing at the wall, he took 
his switchblade knife from his pocket. It snapped open instantly, gleaming 
dully in the moonlight and making a faint oiled click. With the point, he 
pried loose a burred knot in a plank; a knot or whorl they had painstakingly 
carved out months before. 

The knot in his hand, he brutally pushed away his eager companions and, 
squinting one eye, he stooped to see who was taking a shower. The scene that 
greeted his eye made his mouth fall open and a jerk of hardness leap into 
his cock. 

There was Rachel Cain, naked! Old Ned Cain's wife stark naked and hanging 
onto another woman! He had been right, he had known it all along. He had 
Rachel Cain fixed for a dyke and he was right! He crouched, tense, eager to 
see everything. To hell with the other guys, this was something he had heard 
about but never seen! This was going to be one hot show! 

His pot-stunned mind took in the scene he saw through the knothole. Rachel 
had some girl with a fantastic build (Jesus, he had never seen a build like 
that one, not even on Betty, the highest priced whore at the whorehouse) and 
had her bent over so that her head fell back and her big round tits 
glistened wetly with the nipples taut and shaped like bullets. And they were 
rubbing their cunts together. At least Rachel was, with a savage grin on her 
face. Rachel was pumping those heavy strong hips back and forth in an 
obscene motion that made his prick jump erect in his pants! Rachel, if she 
had a cock, would be fucking this girl now. She was holding on around the 
incredibly slim waist of the girl and pumping her hips forward in a lewd 
way, smiling with delight as she looked down at the girl's breasts and 
licked her lips. 

And the girl seemed to be enjoying it, relaxed, her head back, her long wet 
hair hanging almost to the floor, her arms limp at her sides. Only her legs 
and thighs showed signs of strain as she thrust them against Rachel's spread 
thighs. The expression on her face as she swung in and out of the water was 
one of pure bliss. 

"Here." At the sound of Rachel's voice, he almost jumped. He was less than 
three feet from them. "There's some soap on your body, let me get it off." 

He crouched closer to the board, practically flat against it as if he wanted 
to push his way through it. There wasn't the slightest trace of soap on the 
wet body of the girl yet Rachel was running one free hand all over her body. 
Rachel had shifted, bending her own knees, forcing the girl to bend even 
further back where she hung helpless in the crook of Rachel's arm while her 
free hand caressed her shoulders and then, with Stevie breathing fast and 
hard and his prick swelling so much it hurt, he saw Rachel put her hand on 
one of those big beautiful breasts and squeeze it. 

He almost whooped for joy. The old bitch was actually making this chick, 
this stranger, right here in the camp shower! He batted away his friends who 
were trying to see, and watched, his mouth open and dry. 

Rachel was squeezing that breast and massaging it, pretending to wash off 
nonexistent soap while the girl hung limp. He wasn't sure, but he thought he 
heard a little groan of pleasure come from the girl's lips above the sound 
of the splashing water. 

Rachel was using her fingers to pretend to clean the nipple of her breast 
now and the nipple swelled and became even more pointed. Finally satisfied, 
Rachel moved on to the next breast, cleaning it slowly and sensuously, 
stroking it and using her fingers to pinch the nipple. And all the time her 
hips were pumping back and forth lewdly. 

Jane felt transported. It was weird, something was wrong, all wrong, yet it 
all felt so good, so very, very good! Vaguely, dreamily, she told herself 
that she had had a long hard day and she was tired and needed a shower and 
she was out in the country with the working class now and they helped one 
another like this. And it felt so good! God, she was getting so excited and, 
despite herself, she wanted this interlude to go on a little longer. She 
knew, or rather guessed, that her body was clean of any soap long ago. 
Still, it felt so good to be held and swung back and forth like this. And 
the other woman's hands on her body, stroking, massaging, arousing deep 
pleasure feelings inside of her. It was nice to have someone be nice to her 
body, someone like Rachel. There couldn't be anything wrong with it. 

Rachel's hand was caressing her taut stomach now and it felt so good, making 
her body tingle all over. Each nerve seemed so delightfully and deliciously 
alive! Jane was feeling pleasantly drowsy and wished she could he down 
somewhere and let Rachel just massage her all over until she went to sleep. 

Stevie had his face flat up against the board now with his eye practically 
bulging through the knothole. He was breathing heavily out of the corner of 
his mouth as he watched. 

Rachel stopped caressing Jane and straightened her up, saying, "There, now 
it's all off. Feel better?" 

Jane stood up and the blood ran from her head and she put her hands up, 
blinking, lurching against Rachel who took her in her arms and kissed her on 
the cheek. 

"Oh, I'm so dizzy!" 

"Poor kid, not used to this heat yet?" Rachel kissed her on the shoulder and 
neck, holding her so close that their naked wet breasts crushed together. 

"I don't know. I just feel so good and so relaxed. Thank you, Rachel." 

"You liked that, huh?" 

"It felt so good. It felt great. Thank you so much." 

Rachel's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, not releasing Jane from her embrace 
even though Jane made a half-hearted attempt to back off. "You didn't pull 
into camp until late afternoon. How far did you travel to get here?" 

Jane let her head fall back drowsily as she felt Rachel kissing her neck and 
shoulders in an open-mouthed wet way. It felt so nice and... funny. It was 
funny, but she could feel a thrill rippling deep down between her legs. 
"I... I don't know." She tried to focus her sleepy thoughts. "I traveled all 
day." She yawned. "Only stopped for gas and restrooms." 

"You poor kid," Rachel said in warm sympathy. "You're beat. You're dead on 
your feet. Here, we can't have you all tired out. Just let Rachel take 
charge and I'll have you tucked in a warm bed in no time. Ned is out on the 
spread for the night and I'm all alone." 

"I... I've got a bed in my camper," Jane said, her eyes almost completely 
closed. 

"Let me finish soaping you up and I'll walk you home. Here, let me scrub 
your back." 

Rachel released her, turning her around and Jane felt her vigorously 
lathering her back. "Ohhhhhh, that feels good!" she sighed. 

"Like that, huh?" Rachel said with a lewd, unseen grin. 

"Ohhhh, that's good. It's been a long while since anybody has scrubbed my 
back." 

"It sure is a pretty back. Matter of fact, you're a beautiful girl. Has 
anybody told you that?" Rachel had a good lather worked up and set the bar 
aside and began swirling the soap all over Jane's back, watching it run like 
a rivulet down into the deep crevice between her buttocks. Her hands swooped 
lower and lower, her fingers touching the firm, rounded cheeks that were so 
inviting and tempting before her eyes. 

"No," Jane answered dreamily, "Not since I left Boston and Bill. He's my 
fiance." 

Rachel's breath was coming faster now. The sight and feel of the young 
teacher's breathtaking body was too much for her. She was wildly aroused and 
her desire was to force this little society bitch down on the shower-floor 
and have her right there, have her until she went out of her mind and begged 
for it, the way Rachel used to do when she had first married Ned Cain. 
"You've got a nice body, a lovely body," Rachel said, surprising even 
herself, her soapy hands slipping under Jane's arms and swooping up, cupping 
her breasts and massaging them while she pressed her groin against Jane's 
relaxed buttocks, catching her by surprise and pressing her pubic hair 
tightly between the softly yielding cheeks. 

"Hey," Jane said, aroused out of her reverie by Rachel's passion, "Be 
careful." 

Immediately, Rachel stepped back. She could easily overpower Jane at that 
moment, and for a fleeting second, the idea of grabbing that exciting body 
and forcing her to do things she never dreamed of doing with another woman, 
was very tempting. It would be great to just once let out all her sexual 
aggression and not give a damn. She licked her lips and said, "I thought you 
was gonna fall. Look at you," she said, changing the subject and becoming 
very tender. "Just look at you. Now listen, I won't take no for an answer. 
Ned is out all night tending smudge pots or something. This time of the 
year, it's always something. I'm alone and we got a nice snug bed in a guest 
den." 

Jane heaved a sigh, a big sigh. A slight frown came over her smooth brow. 
Her body was tired, relaxed, yet she felt very awake, like some kind of 
energy was flowing through her; an energy that flared excitingly whenever 
Rachel touched her. Vaguely, she felt it would be better to go back to the 
trailer. "Thanks awfully," she said in her best finishing school manner, 
"Perhaps another time." 

Rachel looked at her cool chiseled face that was so poised and regal and she 
wanted to teach her a lesson. Bring this proud bitch to the point of 
humility. If ever anyone asked for it, it was Jane Simpson with her polished 
words. "Look at your hair. You got a hair dryer in that camper of yours?" 

"A dryer? No, I don't. I don't have any current to run one with." 

"Well, I have. So you just come right on over and get that pretty hair of 
yours dried." 

"I'd love to, but I'm really so very tired." 

Rachel wasn't about to give up. She wanted this girl, had made up her mind 
that she was going to have her. The little rich bitch drove her out of her 
mind and she liked it. This was a prize worth doing anything for and Rachel 
found herself thinking faster than she ever had before. "Couple hours from 
now, it's going to get colder than a witch's bed, honey, and with that head 
of wet hair, you're going to catch your death of cold." 

"I'll wrap a towel around it," Jane said as she dried herself and put on her 
robe, pulling the belt tight around her slim waist. 

Rachel put on her thick terry cloth robe and stood looking at Jane with her 
hands on her hips, cocking her head to one side. One last ruse. "Say, what's 
the matter with me? I got leprosy or something? I'm not good enough? My home 
isn't good enough? Or is it you city folk. I heard tell you don't even know 
who your neighbor is. I hear that when folks get friendly, you think they're 
crazy. That true?" 

Jane looked at Rachel with open eyes, seeing her standing there, looking 
hurt. My God, she thought, what am I doing? Fresh on the job and already I'm 
creating a bad impression. I've got to gain their confidence if I'm to 
succeed. She smiled winningly at Rachel. "No, it isn't that at all." 

"Then what is it?" Rachel asked, taking the initiative, "Now I don't know 
how long you've been sleeping in that camper but you can't tell me you 
wouldn't want all the comforts of a clean bed, a dryer, and your own 
bathroom for one night and believe me, honey, it's something else." 

"No, honest-" 

"I ain't askin' you to move in," Rachel went on, "I only offered a little 
Midwestern hospitality, that's all. Wait 'til you see the kids gathering 
like little wolves around my kitchen door when I set my mind to bakin' pies. 
It'd be criminal of me not to invite them all in for a piece of pie and a 
glass of milk." 

Jane laughed and said, "I'm very sorry, I'm so tired I wasn't thinking 
straight. I'd be delighted and flattered to spend the night at your house." 

Rachel put her arm around her and squeezed her tight as they walked. "Ned 
says I'm too friendly with everybody. Maybe so, I say, I can't help it, it's 
what you married, big man." They giggled as they walked together across the 
dark yard and up toward Rachel's house that sat away from the cabins and 
barracks. 

Stevie and his friends had leapt away from the knothole when Jane and Rachel 
left the showers, carefully replacing the whorl of wood and then running, 
Stevie leading the way back to the creek. There they crouched in the dark in 
a tight circle as Stevie, in an excited whisper, began telling them in 
detail exactly what went on in the shower. He described the women's bodies 
in detail and surprised himself with an almost total recall of everything 
said. His friends huddled around him, passing a marijuana cigarette around, 
listening to his every word. 

"Hot damn!" 

"Hot damn? Hot pants, man." 

"Yeah, only they didn't have no pants on. Hot cunts. Right, Stevie?" 

"Ha, I knew Mrs. Cain kinda leaned that way. My sister says she's always 
putting her hands on her and invitin' her in for a back rub." 

"Who's the other one? Who is she, Stevie?" 

Stevie took a drag on the cigarette, held his breath while they all waited, 
then exhaled in a gush and said, "Don't know. Never saw her before. 
Stranger." He smiled around at his friends. "But I'm sure gonna see more of 
her. Let's get up to the Cain's place and watch us a show." 

CHAPTER THREE 

They had to make a wide circle around the camp to get to Rachel's house. The 
Cain's home sat away from all the other cottages and barracks on a slight 
rise and Stevie and his stoned, horny friends didn't want to be seen going 
in a group up to the house. If they attracted attention, they might spoil 
the whole thing. 

They were all flying on pot when they dropped into a drainage ditch and 
walked along it, skirting the camp. It seemed as if they walked for hours. 
To Stevie, leading the way, it seemed like they had walked clear out of the 
colony in the ditch, yet, when he stopped and climbed the embankment to 
look, he still had another hundred yards to go. He had been setting a 
fearful pace, the others panting to keep up with his relentless trot. 

He was worried. It seemed like a lot of time had passed since they left the 
showers and he was afraid he was going to miss something. They threaded 
their way through a field, slowing down and growing cautious as they 
approached the Cain's house from the rear. Stevie thanked his luck. Two 
lights were on in the back of the house, one at either side. 

A quick check of the first lighted window and they came and told them it was 
the kitchen with Rachel moving around fast, taking down two glasses and a 
whiskey bottle and pouring very generous drinks. Then she turned and walked 
into the darkness as the boys crouched against the side of the house and 
crept along toward the other lighted window. They arrived and Stevie peeked 
in the window and saw Rachel coming through the door, offering Jane one of 
the glasses. Stevie looked at Jane lying on the bed, pillows propped under 
her head, a ridiculous hair dryer on her head. She still had her robe on and 
Stevie knew what she looked like under it and his teenage penis jerked 
slightly in his pants. He had to know who this hot lookin' little bitch was, 
and, no matter what, he was going to get his share of her even if she was 
just passing through. 

The boys took turns looking, Stevie crouched below the window, tapping each 
one's leg when he thought they had enough time, checking out the action 
between each looker. When it got good, he would take over. A careful check 
of the area around him told him it was an ideal spot, berry bush grew behind 
them, practically hiding them with its branches reaching almost to the house 
over their heads. 

Inside, there was a table in front of the window with an unlighted lamp on 
it and a potted fern. It was a perfect cover. They could peek into the room 
from the darkness, peering under the fern, and seeing everything. The bed 
was across the room and neither of them were facing the window. The one 
little bedside lamp was perfect to see by. 

The girl on the bed, the one with the almost perfect features, a kind of 
dark haired Grace Kelly, reluctantly accepted the drink, sipped at it and 
made a face. Rachel tossed hers off like it was orange juice and laughed at 
Jane's polite way. She made a gesture, holding her nose and tilting her head 
back. Jane tried to imitate her in a refined way and swallowed half the 
drink and choking with Rachel patting her on the back then stroking her 
body. 

"Hey, you're sure not used to white lightning," she said. 

"I guess not," Jane gasped, her eyes running. 

"Drink up and then I'll give you a massage and you can drop off to sleep." 

"Oh, I'd love that. I don't know if I can finish this," Jane said, holding 
up the half-empty glass. She wondered if all mid-westerners drank moonshine 
from an ordinary drinking glass filled to the brim. She had never had so 
much straight whiskey at one time before. Yet, she was glad she had come. 
The house was a delight, neat and clean and colorful, a real western home. 
She felt so good and clean and warm and already she could feel the white 
lightning spreading through her body, warming her and numbing some of her 
excited nerve endings. And Rachel, sitting next to her on the bed, tenderly 
massaging her body, felt so good. She smiled at her and Rachel blew her a 
kiss. She wanted to please her and belong to the group so she raised the 
glass and said, "Down the hatch," and drank the rest, choking it down and 
catching her breath. 

"Wowee," Rachel said, "Honey, honest, it gets smoother and easier as it goes 
along." She took the glass from Jane and said, "How about a refill? A little 
dividend?" 

"No, I couldn't drink anymore. Honest. I can feel it affecting me already." 

Rachel was about to coax or bully her into another drink when a high pitched 
whistle came from the direction of the kitchen. Jane looked surprised. 
"What's that?" 

"That's the water I set to boilin'," Rachel said, getting up. "I'm brewin' 
us some tea to go to bed on. It's a special herb-tea folks brew around here. 
Relaxes you." 

"Oh, I'd love some tea." 

"Back in a jiffy. Don't fall asleep with that thing you your head." Rachel 
hurried to the kitchen and turned off the stove and set up a teapot and took 
down a box of mistletoe tea. There was an excited, satisfied grin on her 
face. It had been a long time and the last woman she had was Tom Haines' 
wife. She had to be careful, if Ned ever found out, she was in trouble. If 
anybody ever found out, she was in trouble for there were nothing but 
small-town minds in the camp and most of the time they were so bored they 
were dying for something to talk about. Everybody knew about Tom Haines and 
Maria down at the admissions office. Everybody, including Mrs. Haines, cute 
little Molly herself. Rachel had been most sympathetic. 

Now, she thought, she had something great. The best thing she ever had. Yes, 
she thought, stirring the pot of narcotic tea, even better than Ned. She was 
going to give this little city girl a time she wouldn't forget and maybe it 
could work into a steady thing. 

While waiting for the tea to steep, she poured herself a stiff shot of white 
lightning and gulped it down, feeling the alcohol click on a section of her 
brain in which she felt lewd and alive and excited. Quickly, she pulled off 
her panties and hid them in a drawer. Smoothing her dress down, she took the 
pot of tea and two mugs and hurried back to the bedroom. 

A quick glance at Jane told her the white lightning was having its effect. 
The whiskey was genuine mountain-grown, one hundred and ten proof of liquid 
dynamite; certainly enough to befuddle a naive little easterner who had 
never had it before. Jane was sitting up and had, with a silly giggle, taken 
the dryer off her head and her long raven hair tumbled down. She was sitting 
on the edge of the bed and her robe had fallen open almost to the waist and 
her long slender curving calves and long well-formed thighs were exposed. 
She looked up at Rachel and laughed. "Wow, am I dizzy." 

Rachel sat next to her and motherly kissed her on the cheek. "Poor kid, 
you're beat and I can see you're not used to white lightning." 

"What a name," Jane mumbled. 

"Here, drink this tea, it'll relax you and sober you up." Rachel poured the 
mug full and handed it to Jane. 

Jane smelled the rising steam. "Mmm. Smells good. What kind of tea is it?" 

"Mistletoe. It grows wild out in the fields between crops. We gather what we 
need, dry it, and drink it. It really relaxes you. Drink up." 

Jane blew then sipped at the hot tea. "It's good." 

"Drink some more," Rachel said, putting her hand on her bare thigh and 
stroking it. 

Jane obeyed, her vision getting blurry. She finished the mug as Rachel 
stroked her thighs. A dreamy quality came over her, a strange kind of 
serenity. It seemed, suddenly, that nothing that was happening was real. No, 
that wasn't quite it. It seemed more like nothing that was happening really 
mattered. There was nothing to get upset about. Besides, it felt so good. 
The stroking on her thighs felt so good and she put the empty mug down and 
leaned back, grinning unsteadily at Rachel who was stroking both her thighs 
with her hands now. 

"Do you like me, Jane?" 

Jane was mildly puzzled for a moment. Not at the question, but at the sound 
of Rachel's voice. 

Although she heard her clearly, the sound seemed to come from far off and 
something was wrong with the time: had Rachel just asked that question or 
was that a long time ago. She smiled back, dazed and relaxed. "Of course I 
do." 

"That's good. I was hoping you would because I like you." 

"That's nice." Jane cocked her head, it didn't even sound like her own 
voice. 

"I like you a lot," Rachel said, leaning closer so that the heat of her 
breath was on the young girl's cheek. 

"That's nice." It could almost be another person speaking for her. Whoever 
was speaking, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except to go to sleep and 
let Rachel run her hands up and down her wonderfully relaxed body. 

"Lie down. That tea is good, isn't it? Can you feel it yet?" Rachel watched 
Jane carefully. Mistletoe tea carries one of nature's tranquilizers used by 
country folk whenever anyone was in pain. The powerful combination of 
fatigue, white lightning and mistletoe tea was having its effect. Jane might 
even drop off to sleep. It didn't matter, Rachel would soon have her awake 
again. 

"Oh, I feel so good," she whispered, lying back on top of the covers, her 
eyes closing. Rachel looked at the lamp and thought of putting it out. No, 
she thought, with it on, I want to see everything. 

"Do you like my stroking your leg?" she asked softly. 

"Hmmmmmmmm, it feels nice," Jane murmured. 

"Here, let's get that robe off before you conk out and I can rub you some 
more." A hint of suspicion, of doubt, glinted in Jane's dull gaze and Rachel 
added, "Get out of that robe and roll over on your belly, I'll give you a 
real relaxing massage." 

Her voice reassuring and the idea so appealing, Jane let Rachel help her out 
of her robe. She must be tired she thought hazedly, for her arm caught in a 
sleeve and she had to tug, shaking her breasts, her flesh quivering as the 
older woman watched breathlessly. Naked, feeling a wonderful freedom and 
brazenness, she lay back and stretched her body and it seemed to ripple 
voluptuously with her pelvis tilting up for just one tantalizing second to 
reveal the soft, hair-covered folds of her vaginal lips. 

Rachel's teeth were clenched as she watched her lazily roll over on her 
stomach and saw her delicately long and curved back that swooped into her 
high firm buttocks that were so white and tempting. She laced her fingers 
and cracked her knuckles and flexed her fists. "I used to be a real masseuse 
before I married Ned Cain and ended up a farm girl." 

"Did you?" 

"Ha!" Rachel said, pleased with herself as she pulled up her dress and 
climbed on the bed and straddled Jane's legs near the knee and looked down 
at all her vulnerable loveliness. "Didn't know I knew a fancy word like 
'masseuse' did you? I was real good at it and I liked it, but Ned made me 
quit it." 

"Took you away from it?" Jane's voice was dreamy and she moaned with delight 
as she felt Rachel lean over her and her hands begin to knead the flesh on 
her back. 

"Yeah. He was funny about it. Didn't like me doing it. I liked it. I made 
some friends. I liked them. I liked them a lot." Jane was only moaning 
softly with delight as Rachel's hands worked expertly over her back. It 
didn't matter if she didn't talk. "He only wanted me to give massages to 
him, the horny old devil," Rachel went on, working lower, into the small of 
Jane's back. "He didn't like me doing that to other people. In a way I can't 
blame him, if I like a person, you know, I give them a real good massage. I 
go out of my way to please them." 

Her hands slid onto Jane's smooth white buttocks and she began massaging 
them, cupping her cheeks and squeezing them then parting them so that she 
could see the young teacher's tiny, tightly puckered anus then she began to 
knead the naked flesh with gentle fingers. "You like that?" she whispered. 

"Ohhhhhh, that feels so good. I've never had a massage before," Jane slurred 
in a quiet voice. She was utterly relaxed and Rachel's hands felt soothing 
and strangely exciting. It was all right, after all, Rachel was a 
professional. 

"I'll give you a good one, Jane, one you'll never forget. Just stay relaxed 
and do what I say. Promise me?" 

"All right." 

"Do you like me?" 

"Yes." 

"I like you a lot, a whole lot. When I had friends I liked a whole lot, I'd 
give them a real massage." 

"That's nice," Jane said, her voice barely a. whisper. She was so relaxed it 
seemed as if she were drifting and she had floated a long way off, leaving 
her body behind with Rachel. Besides, her hands felt so good. So good and 
exciting. Yes, definitely exciting, for strangely, she could feel herself 
being aroused far beyond any point she had obtained with Bob. She felt oddly 
lewd, and yet, all was serene and there was nothing to worry about. She 
could even go to sleep if she wished. 

Rachel's voice was low and urgent and seemed to come to her from far away. 
"Let me show you just how much I like you." 

Jane breathed a sigh. "All right." She felt Rachel bending over her and then 
her wetly kissing mouth burned on her back and she grinned, feeling it 
pleasant. Her mouth was all over her shoulders and back and her soft wet 
tongue was licking and she wanted to curl her shoulders with pleasure. Her 
body slipped lower with her mouth and tongue following, leaving a wet trail 
down past her naked waist. 

She felt Rachel's hands massaging the cheeks of her ass again and she moaned 
with pleasure. 

Outside, a short, vicious, silent fistfight took place. All of the young 
boys were so excited and vying for looks that they scuffled with one another 
and Stevie stood crouched in the dark, his fists ready, his head swiveling 
to find another target. There were no more takers. You had to be crazy to 
take on Stevie when he got mad. His eyes went cold and his face went blank 
and he went at you with a kind of reckless madness. It seemed like he not 
only wanted to beat you, he wanted to kill you. 

Two of his friends, driven mad by the desire to see, lay sprawled on the 
ground, one nursing an aching jaw and the other putting a rapidly swelling 
eye in his hands and rocking back and forth. 

Stevie put both his palms out and froze. They all froze and listened. Far 
off, across the fields, he could hear the coyotes howling. He tiptoed to the 
window and peeked. All was well, Rachel was massaging the girl's back and 
working her way down. Ducking away from the window and motioning for his 
friends to follow. They ran back out of earshot and crouched together. 
Stevie looked at their faces. "Okay, here it is: any guy gets out of line 
and blows this is going to get a hell of a lot worse than what was got. And 
after I'm through with you, you'll have my old man to deal with. Maybe 
you'll even get caught with some pot on you. That's one-to-ten in states 
prison. Clear?" 

Everyone nodded. 

"Okay, I know everybody wants to see, but everybody can't see all the time. 
I'm doing the watching because I need enough evidence to put this chick in 
her place. Christ, I wish we had a camera! I'm going to get that hot little 
bitch in a corner and I'm doing it for you guys. Listen, we'll take her up 
to that hippy commune for a weekend and get her stoned and then her hot 
little pussy'll know what it's like to really get fucked. Now let's get back 
and for Christ sake, keep quiet." 

They hurried back, eager to get any glimpse Stevie would allow them. All of 
their cocks were erect and hard as they thought of what was coming up. 
Stevie had a way of getting what he wanted and they could tell from the way 
he talked that he wanted to fuck that chick. 

Crouched down by the side of the house, Stevie straightened just in time to 
see Rachel crouched over the naked back of the girl, her hands gently 
massaging her now softly yielding buttocks as she parted the cheeks and bent 
her head, her tongue flicking out over the nude girl's tiny, unprotected 
anus. 

Jane felt like a searing fire swept through her, a fire so hot yet so sweet. 
Her body felt so good and heavy, like lead. All she could do was let out a 
moan of delight as the tongue lashed back and forth and she felt the hot 
oily moisture of desire growing in her cunt as her vaginal lips swelled 
warmly between her thighs. 

The tongue would not let her be and she felt her curvaceously rounded hips 
moving despite her hesitant thoughts. What actually were her thoughts? It 
didn't, matter. Nothing mattered except the tongue. 

Rachel's tongue was all over her anus, probing soft and wet while her hands 
parted Jane's thighs and the tongue slipped lower and licked over her 
vaginal lips. Then, slowly, deliberately, she felt Rachel's tongue pushing 
into her cunt, parting the smooth, sensitive walls and feeling soft and hot 
and wet. It slid maddeningly up and down the excitedly fluttering slit and 
Jane thought she had never felt anything so good in her whole life. Why 
hadn't Bob treated her this way? If he had done this to her with such 
gentleness, she would have willingly done anything he asked. 

Rachel pulled her head away and was urging her to roll over. It had been so 
nice the way it was she was willing to he there all night and let Rachel do 
what she wanted. Still, in her deeply drugged state, she dimly remembered 
Rachel saying something about doing what she wanted and she rolled over on 
her back heavily, legs falling limply open. 

She could open her heavily glazed eyes just wide enough to see the camp 
boss' wife taking off her dress over her head. Her young-looking figure was 
naked except for her bra and then the older woman took that off too, her 
small breasts so proud and pointed. She smiled down at Jane. "You have such 
lovely breasts, so full and well shaped." 

Jane couldn't answer, only smile a silly dazed smile. 

Rachel was looking down at her, her hands running over her own body, her 
fingers omnivorously massaging her own cunt. "Let me show you just how much 
I like you," she purred in a low, heavy-with-passion voice. 

Outside, Stevie's eyes went small and cruel as he saw Rachel Cain, naked, 
lay down on top of the girl and kiss her on the mouth. He watched, sweat 
breaking out on his forehead as he then saw the older woman press her legs 
together and wedge them between the legs of the girl who didn't protest but 
only spread her legs wider. Then Rachel began grinding her pelvis and 
buttocks like she was a man fucking the girl, rubbing her pubic hair against 
the girl's cunt. 

His face was pressed against the pane and he held his breath to keep from 
fogging it as he saw Wilma force her hand down between them and caress the 
girl's vagina and spread the soft hair-lined lips wide with her fingers then 
lower her groin and grind her pubic hair on her open pussy and clitoris. 

A deep dark thrill went through Jane and she let out a moan of delight to 
match it. This was even better than the shower and she was feeling an orgasm 
of shattering force growing in her. Why wasn't Bob like this? Maybe this was 
Bob? No, it was that woman from the shower and they were on a bed and she 
was driving her mad. "Ohhhhhhhhh, stop," she moaned, not really meaning it. 

"You like that?" Rachel whispered wetly in her ear, grinding her buttocks 
down and rotating them a little harder. "If you like it, I'll do it some 
more. And I'll do other things." 

"It's so good. It's so... almost too good," Jane heard her seemingly distant 
voice say. It had been a languid breathy voice which betrayed the extent of 
her passion. Oh God, what am I doing, she moaned silently to herself. 

Outside, Stevie couldn't keep his hand off his prick. Neither could any of 
the other guys as they took turns looking, pulling away at Stevie's leg 
tapping command. None of them had ever seen a thing like this before and all 
of them were excited to the point where they'd fuck a hole in the ground. 

Stevie took over again as Rachel wrapped her arms tight around Jane and Jane 
bent her knees and spread her legs wider, tilting her hips upwards and 
spreading her cunt as much as possible as Rachel crushed her breasts against 
hers and began rubbing faster and harder. Jane could feel Rachel's cunt 
swelling between her tense thighs and every once in awhile there was the 
slick sensation of both their lubricated little clitorises sliding over one 
another. 

Rachel was kissing her on the mouth now, running her tongue in and out of 
her mouth in rhythm to her pelvic movements and she felt her own hips 
beginning to twitch and toss with a lewd power all their own. Her orgasm was 
building fast and with a force that would not be denied. She felt it coming 
and her whole body stiffened, arched, then trembled as her cum crashed 
through her body in a pleasure so intense that all she could do was open her 
mouth and scream up into the other woman's throat. 

"OOOOHHHhhhhhhaaaaaaaagggggg hhhhhhhhaaaaa!" The animal scream seemed to 
come from deep within her; it came freely and was almost like the wild 
signaling that Jane was no longer the girl she had been a few hours earlier. 
The beast, the primeval urges that had so long slept dormant in her; the 
urges, tastes, and desires that had been repressed and denied by all her 
education and experience now were surfacing and twisting her body in a wild, 
untamed ecstasy as she writhed and moaned under the naked body of Rachel 
Cain. 

Rachel was kissing and smiling, whispering in Jane's ear while outside, 
Stevie and his friends were wild with lust and frustration. They were 
agitated, elbowing each other aside in order to see, their lust making them 
reckless and aggressive. Only Stevie was quiet, standing away from the 
windows and staring off with tight narrowed eyes, his face flat and looking 
much older - and cruel - than his sixteen years. Stevie Capp had made up his 
mind he was going to fuck that girl. Maybe even Ned Cain's wife, Rachel. 
Maybe the two of them at the same time or that girl in there with the 
beautiful boobs and elegant face would come down a peg or two or find 
herself in jail on a moral's rap. 

The boys were fighting under the window, scuffing in the dirt and whispering 
fierce threats at one another. Stevie came out of his dream-state and walked 
over to them, hitting them at random and pushing the younger ones away and 
stood with his back to the window, his fists ready, glaring at his friends. 
They stepped back automatically. Stevie was their leader and he ruled by 
force and threats. Being a sheriffs son was reason enough to be paid 
attention to; but Stevie had something more: a drive, an energy, a 
recklessness that was suicidal to overlook. With a smile that was almost a 
sneer, he turned his back on his friends and resumed peeking through the 
window. 

Jane collapsed, a loose smile on her lips, her eyes closed. 

"You like that?" Rachel whispered. 

"Mmmmmm." She couldn't help it, she was drifting off to sleep. 

"I like you. I can do more things but I won't unless you want me to." 

Rachel's voice and intonation was smutty and excited. After bringing Jane to 
her orgasm, she was more aroused than ever. She lay on top of Jane, her hips 
still pumping and grinding slowly and obscenely. "I'll do it if you want me 
to. I'd love to do it!" 

The lewd excitement reached the portion of Jane's brain that was still 
conscious. "Oh yes!" she sighed. "Do things to me!" 

Rachel gloated and found her sensuousness increased. She was so hot she had 
to have relief. She began kissing Jane's face and body again, slowly sliding 
down her trembling nakedness, licking at her neck and shoulders and then all 
around her breasts as the young drugged school teacher lay still, breathing 
deeply. 

Rachel crouched on her knees, her legs widespread so that Stevie could see 
her pulsating cuntal mouth swollen with desire and slightly open. It was a 
bright glistening slit dividing her pubic hair. Rachel didn't have a bad 
figure at all and he was determined to get her too. But the girl lying on 
the bed was first. 

Stevie watched as Rachel crouched over the girl, her hips pumping obscenely 
as if she were impaled on an invisible cock and was riding it up and down. 
One of her hands cupped the girl's breast and squeezed it, her fingers 
pinching the nipple as her teeth nibbled at it and she pursed her lips and 
sucked hard on the nipple. The girl on the bed moaned. Her eyes were closed 
yet her body moved in lewd response. She bent her knees slightly and Stevie 
saw her cunt spread with its fluted hair-fringed edges seeming to swell 
again. 

Rachel attacked the other breast with a greedy kind of recklessness, getting 
rougher as both her hands hungrily massaged the firm, whitely quivering 
mounds. 

Then she abandoned the breasts and slid lower,- kissing and licking at the 
girl's smooth, alabaster stomach until she came to her softly puckered 
little navel. There she let her tongue bore in while the girl again moaned, 
flinging her arms out to the side and clawing desperately at the sheet while 
her hips began a slow lewd rotating and undulating up and down. 

Rachel Cain was shifting around, still on her knees as her mouth licked and 
sucked lower. As Stevie Capp watched, eyes bulging wide, he saw the older 
woman's greedy mouth biting teasingly at the girl's softly curling pubic 
hair. The girl, eyes still closed, spread her legs even wider and Stevie 
took in the obscene sight: Rachel, licking, her fevered eyes looking down at 
the girl's cunt which was splayed wide apart and glittering with lubricated 
excitement and was pulsating and writhing as the girl pumped her hips in 
lewd abandon. Below her cunt, he could see the two tightly clenched cheeks 
of her buttocks crushed down hard into the mattress. Her legs were spread so 
wide the thin cords of her tendons stood out on the insides of her thighs. 

Almost as if by order, but more out of lewd instinct, Jane bent her knees 
and spread her legs further and Rachel reached down and, with the tips of 
her fingers, she spread the swollen lips of her vagina even wider and saw 
her cunt and the membranous walls thick with excitement and her tiny 
clitoris throbbing and extended, waiting to be caressed. 

With one thumb, she rolled the clitoris around and watched as Jane moaned 
deeply and jutted her hips up at an obscene angle and seemed to be silently 
begging for more. Bending her head, her tongue licked at the throbbing 
clitoris in front of her face and Jane moaned louder and her hands groped 
and found Rachel's hair and her fingers tangled in it. 

Jane was almost unconscious yet she could feel thrilling electrical shocks 
of sensuous pleasure; pleasure so physical and intense she felt she could 
never live without it again. She was drifting in a black void of ecstasy and 
pleasure and she wished it would never end. 

Outside, Stevie watched as Rachel let the tip of her tongue flick back and 
forth over the girl's excitedly pulsating clitoris and he saw it grow and 
throb as the girl practically became double-jointed in her efforts to thrust 
her lips up and get more of the delicious licking of the fiery tongue that 
was driving her to an even greater passion. 

Rachel was now sadistically taking her time, teasing the girl, arousing her 
even more. The girl's whole body was writhing now, her torso rippling and 
undulating, that proud, patrician face of hers distorted in lewdness. Her 
eyes were beginning to open and her mouth was twisting by passion as the 
flicking, tantalizing tongue was driving her out of her dark void and into 
the cauldron of hot passion. 

Rachel timed her move instinctively, her tongue suddenly gliding down the 
wet slit of Jane's cunt and then driving home, worming hotly into the deep 
pulsating recesses of her widespread passage. Jane went wild. Her knees 
bent, she lifted her hips and whole body clear off the bed, only her heels 
and the nape of her neck still on the bed and her hips rotated and pumped 
madly as she wanted to get more of that maddening tongue shoved up her cunt 
where it would wiggle and drive her insane. 

With a cry of animal frustration, she fell back on the bed and pulled her 
knees tight up against her chest, crushing her breasts as she spread her 
legs as wide as they could possibly go and Rachel was using her hands to 
push her thighs wider apart as she attacked the cunt with her mouth like a 
woman gone mad. Her whole mouth locked over the tiny lubricated hole and she 
sucked, relishing the taste of Jane's cunt juice and her tongue darted in 
and out of the cunt, probing deep into the hot carnivorously sucking 
interior as Jane moaned and thrashed with delight on the bed, murmuring over 
and over, "Oh, that's good, do it, do it, do it to me! Tome! DO IT TO ME!!!" 

And Rachel was getting rough now, using the strength that an active western 
life had endowed her with. Her nails dug into Jane's thighs and she 
teasingly sucked and bit at her clitoris while the insanely aroused young 
teacher bucked and thrashed around wildly on the bed, her hair flying in all 
directions. Both their bodies were covered with sweat now as they struggled 
obscenely with one another. 

Jane was like another woman. Always, before, she had been conscious of the 
impression she was making on others and so it was rare when her movements 
and manners weren't something she hadn't practised for years. Now, what she 
did and how she looked were far from her mind: all her dignity was gone, and 
all she wanted was to satisfy the hot, all-consuming lust in her body. She 
twisted, turned and bucked, pumping her hips hungrily, under the camp boss' 
wife's maddening tongue. She surprised herself with her lewdness and 
strength; with her teeth gritted and animal sounds tearing out of her 
throat, she bucked and twisted in her orgasm searching desperation until she 
felt them rolling and she suddenly put her hands out and found she was on 
top of the other woman. They had rolled completely over and Rachel was under 
her, still hanging on to her thighs, her nails digging into Jane's tender 
flesh and hurting her in a way that only increased the heat and the 
excitement. And her mouth was still locked on Jane's cunt, sucking and 
licking in a maddening way. Jane raised her body off the bed on her hands 
and slightly bent knees and felt the throbbing pleasure in her groin and 
pumped her hips lewdly and obscenely, pressing down on Rachel's mouth then 
pulling away as Rachel dug her nails in deeper and sucked all the harder. 

Jane undulated and pumped, the nipples of her breasts jiggling and rubbing 
on the blanket underneath and intensifying her lust as Rachel began 
rhythmically fucking her tongue in and out of her cunt and she could feel 
her orgasm inside of her like a wild beast churning and thrashing around, 
looking for a way to freedom. It would be free! There was no denying it! It 
found its direction, turning like some mythical beast full of strength of 
the Gods and rushed, like a starburst of white hot lava, toward her 
tormented cunt and Ned Cain's wife's persistently sucking mouth. 

"I... I... I'mmmmmmmm C... c... cummmmminnnnngggg!" Jane gasped in a voice 
so unlike her usual modulated terms. Then, in a voice that sounded like all 
the whores of history wrapped into one single shriek, she screamed, "I 
looooyvwee it!" Her body tensed again and she seemed like someone hanging 
over a great abyss by her fingers and toes as her body shuddered and 
trembled and her eyes, wide open, rolled back in her head, showing only 
white and a strange growling sound came out of her open mouth and she 
screamed a long soul-searing moan and fell limply on the bed and down on top 
of the naked woman, shuddering and quivering helplessly. 

Rachel kept her tongue darting in and out of the young school teacher's 
ravaged and twitching cunt until she was sure that Jane had gushed out every 
drop of her cum then she raised herself and sat up, naked, glistening with 
sweat. She looked at the naked form of Jane lying on the bed, her buttocks 
still quivering in fine spasms, her body limp and tiny moans of pagan 
delight coming from her lips. Rachel's fingers slipped down to her own cunt 
and she caressed herself, feeling her lubricated excitement as her cunt 
itched and throbbed with desire. She grinned down at Jane's limp form 
lewdly. She wasn't through with this hot little society bitch yet! 

Outside, Stevie could feel his own hot cum wetting the blunt end of his 
prick in his pants and he closed his eyes for a second. Jesus Christ, he 
thought, that was too much. Anymore and he would cum in his pants like he 
did in a wet dream. Rachel was getting to her feet and standing naked at the 
foot of the bed, looking down at the still figure of the girl. With a grim 
lewd look, she went to a closet and dragged out a suitcase. 

Stevie pressed his nose against the pane. What was that crazy dyke up to? 
She was on her hands and knees, dragging out a suitcase and then crawling 
back into the closet. Lonny stood on tiptoe, craning his head to see. The 
girl on the bed was all but passed out and Rachel was really looking wild, 
her face taut and viciously eager. 

Rachel was prying a board loose from the back of the closet. Years before 
she had made this secret hiding place where she could keep things from Ned. 
The board worked loose, she reached in, groping her hand coming on something 
and she breathed a sigh. 

Stevie crouched down again with just his eyes on a level with the window as 
Rachel backed out of the closet and stood up. His eyes narrowed quizzically. 
What was that she had in her hands. Jesus! He almost whooped and shouted in 
amazement! Rachel had some kind of rubber cock in her hands and she was 
busily strapping it on her! 

It was too good a thing to miss. With hand motions, he indicated each of the 
boys was to take a quick peek and then squirmed eagerly in line, looking, 
then covering their mouths with suppressed glee. 

Rachel Cain was strapping on a rubber phallus, a dildo of strange 
construction. It was like a forked, two-pronged penis, and she was shoving 
one end up her own cunt, her face giving away the pleasure she received as 
her cunt fit tightly around the shaft and she played with it for a moment, 
standing crouched, her legs spread and knees bent as she ran it slowly in 
and out, her vaginal lips seeming to clutch hungrily at the huge shaft. They 
could see the phallus-which was flesh-colored and lifelike - glistening from 
the lubricating juices of her pussy. 

Breathing heavily, her eyes narrowed, she fit the artificial prick in place, 
the straps tightening around her thighs and biting lewdly into the flesh of 
her firm buttocks. She hurried to the bathroom off the den with a look at 
the helplessly drugged young teacher's still form on the bed and emerged a 
few seconds later stroking the phallus which stood erect between her legs, 
covering it with baby oil. 

Stevie took command again outside, brushing the others away and watching as 
Rachel crawled on the bed, looking so weird and sensual with one end of the 
artificial cock jutting out between her legs and the other end locked 
tightly in her cunt. With a rough movement, she rolled Jane, now almost 
completely unconscious, over on her back where she lay murmuring softly, her 
legs limply spread and her arms thrown out. Her breasts rose and fell with 
the deep rhythm of sleep. 

Rachel was in a wild mood. All night long she had been pleasing this 
voluptuous young bitch and denying her own orgasm which had now built to 
such proportions that she was almost insane with desire. At that moment, she 
would do anything to satisfy her abnormal craving. Her face was a mask of 
lust with her lips twisted in a grim smile as she spread Jane's thighs far 
apart and Jane, half-conscious, responded with a lazy sigh and half lifted 
her knees. 

"That's it, honey," Rachel said in a whisper, "A little more, just a little 
more then we're really going to have some fun. I haven't done this in 
years!" 

Jane obeyed languidly. It was only a far off voice and she knew it was the 
camp boss' wife and she was nice. She bent knees out crab-like even more and 
Rachel crawled between her legs, the artificial prick held tightly in one 
hand. 

Stevie felt like taking his prick out and jerking off right then and there. 
This was better than anything he had ever seen, better than the hippies up 
in the commune when they got stoned and fucked right out in the open, better 
than the smoker films his father, the sheriff had; films that he had 
confiscated in raids and had prints made up for his own use. Stevie had 
sneaked looks at them whenever his father was gone out on business. They 
were pretty hot but never anything like this! 

He felt his underwear sticking against his prick from the cum that was 
seeping out as he watched Ned Cain's wife crawl on top of the girl and let 
her weight bear down. Lazily, dreamily, a slight drugged smile on her face, 
the girl put her arms around Rachel and kissed her. Then, she began to 
waken, her eyelids fluttering and her face wincing as she felt the hard 
blunt end of the dildo push down against the lips of her naked cunt. 

She blinked her eyes several times, trying to focus them. "What? What are 
you doing?" 

"Just relax," Rachel said in a hard whisper, "I'm going to fuck you like no 
man ever did!" 

The word, "Fuck," seared through her mind and for a second, she sped back in 
time to Bob and the way he acted, but it wasn't Bob, it was Rachel! Rachel! 
And she was hurting her! "No, n-nnnnoooo!" she said, almost wailing the 
words. The whiskey and the tea were still having their effect and she was 
confused and she hurt. What had happened before, earlier? Hadn't... her body 
tensed. My God, what had they been doing? What were they doing now? What was 
Rachel doing to her? Rachel was crazy and what they were doing was sick and 
depraved! 

"Rachel, stop, I can't!" she said, trying to push Rachel off. 

Rachel's mouth was tight and cruel. "No you don't, Miss Rich-bitch! You had 
your fun now I'm going to have mine!" 

"Rachel! Please, please, stop this! I've never -Aaaaaaagggggghhhhhaaaaa!" 
Jane tensed and then was thrown back by the pain as Rachel's artificial 
prick penetrated her virgin cunt brutally, Rachel using all her strength so 
that the veins stood out on her forehead. A sadistic smile creased her lips 
as she felt the dildo plunge mercilessly home. God, she thought, what a 
tight pussy, what a tight little hot cunt! 

Rachel was in rapture as she began pumping her hips, feeling the artificial 
cock churning in her own cunt while she fucked it in and out of the 
squirming girl below and felt her feminine body struggling desperately 
underneath her own. 

"I... I'll scream!" Jane gasped, her eyes wild with fear. "Oh God, you're 
killing me! You're ruining me! I'm going to scream!" 

"Go ahead!" Rachel seemed to spit the words out. "Just go ahead. By the time 
anyone gets here, it'll be too late and I'll tell them that you attacked me, 
that I took you in and you made improper advances." She had a malicious 
smile on her face as she fucked triumphantly in and out of the young 
teacher's cunt with the girl whimpering and struggling under her. She liked 
the way Jane was acting and her pleas and struggles only made her all the 
more ecstatic. Let her scream, she would fuck her even if the whole camp 
were piling into the room. "Go ahead," she taunted, "Who do you think 
they'll believe? Me or you? Who are you? Nobody knows you. You'll be 
ruined!" 

Despite the pain and obscenity of the moment, despite the befuddling 
qualities of the alcohol and tea, Jane had enough sense to realize she was 
right. It would be very easy for Rachel to make her look like some kind of 
freaky nut. Tears of pain and humiliation came into her eyes. "Rachel, 
please stop, you're hurting me," she whimpered imploringly. Her situation 
was hopeless. Rachel had her pinned to the mattress like a fly and the pain 
from the huge rubber dildo was searing as she felt it sliding back and forth 
like a huge battering ram in her cunt. She stuffed a fist in her mouth and 
bit on it to keep from screaming as her face twisted with the pain as Rachel 
probed deeper and deeper with every savage thrusts into the helplessly 
constricting confines of her belly. 

Stevie Capp was watching in a lewd trance as he saw the shaft of the 
artificial prick sliding in and out between the girl's wideheld thighs. What 
a tight little cunt that girl had! He saw the way it was spread into almost 
a perfect circle, her soft little pussy lips tight and fluted and puckering 
out as if clinging for dear life to the pistoning shaft as Rachel Cain 
pulled it out then rolling in, tiny silken strands of her pubic hair 
surrounding the shaft as Rachel bore down relentlessly. The girl was tense, 
every muscle in her lovely body standing out in bold relief as her face 
twisted and she bit hard on her fist. 

Rachel really began to fuck the girl. She was going to fuck her with all her 
might and the girl's eyes were bugging out of her head and her face was 
turning a livid red as she tried to bear the pain. Christ, Stevie thought, 
Old Ned's wife's going to fuck that gorgeous-little bitch to death! 

Rachel was fucking with a wildness and abandon bordering on insanity as she 
pumped her hips lewdly, her body moving ever more rapidly as she gyrated and 
undulated, covered with sweat, ramming the glistening fake cock in and out 
of Jane's ravaged young cunt. 

Jane thought she was going to pass out from the pain as it mounted and 
filled her body and brain and she could only see a red haze in front of her 
face. This was obscene and lewd and perverted and she felt as if she might 
die! She babbled incoherently through her fist as she felt the stabbing pain 
of the obscene instrument spearing mercilessly through her helplessly 
thrashing body. 

Then, Stevie, outside, gripped the sill until his knuckles went white. 
Something was beginning to happen with the girl! Unbelievably, he could see 
the girl's hips beginning to pump back lewdly under Ned Cain's wife's 
driving plunges. It was too much! He didn't care what was happening or who 
was looking. He jerked his zipper open and took his prick out and began 
stroking it. Now all sense of secrecy or caution was abandoned. All of the 
boys were at a fever pitch. They crowded around Stevie, two of them ran down 
the side of the house and found a box and lifted it and dragged it to the 
window and they stood on it, taking their hardened young pricks out as they 
bugged eyedly watched the lasciviously fucking women inside. 

Jane felt an urging, a mad desire that couldn't be denied or resisted. A 
lewdness was coming over her entire body as the pain built and built until 
it became a searing unbearable joy! It was a joy and lust of the flesh and 
every nerve in her body was alive and tingling and yearning for more. 

She found her hips pumping up obscenely in return to the camp boss' wife's 
savage thrusts and her body relaxed and she felt the lewd thrill of the 
rubber cock fucking rhythmically in and out of her cunt, making her want 
more and more! It felt so delicious! It was so lewd and wonderful to be 
doing such a forbidden thing. A moan of delight escaped through her clenched 
teeth and Rachel went wild, fucking her all out, abandoned, her head thrown 
back and she hammered in and out of the young teacher's dildo ravaged cunt, 
feeling her long denied orgasm building and coming. 

She bit her lips and pumped hard as she could. She must delay her orgasm 
until she felt the young girl coming too. Sweat was dripping from her body 
as the two of them bucked and clung to each other and Jane moaned, "Oh, do 
it, do it, do it to me all night! Do it to me FOREVER! FUCK ME! she shouted, 
"FUCK! I LOVE IT!" 

Jane was lifting her buttocks clear off the wildly squeaking mattress now 
and slamming them down again, almost burying her ass in the covers. The 
young teacher, her breasts covered with sweat and jiggling obscenely, was 
loving every minute of it. She wanted Rachel to fuck her forever as she felt 
still another orgasm building in her. She felt as if all her strength and 
energy and reserve were gone and that she would pass out if it wasn't for 
the cum whirling in her like a vortex, a hurricane of pure bliss and 
pleasure! She could not stop now, even if it meant her life, she could not 
stop! 

Her knees were bent so they were knifed and spread wide, making her buttocks 
taut and spread wide so that Stevie and his friends could see her tiny 
puckered anus and wet ravaged cunt with the huge rubber cock sliding in and 
out like a piledriver. One boy on the box shot his cum and it splattered 
against the side of the house and his legs began to tremble and he fell from 
the box with a moan only to be replaced by another boy who looked with 
drugged greedy eyes at the two women fucking on the bed and began stroking 
his cock hard. All of the boys, Stevie included, had reached a point where 
they were ready to break into the house and join the two women on the bed 
and fuck them both. 

Jane was near ecstasy and she clung to Rachel, her voice shaking with 
pleasure and emotion as she thrust up and felt the artificial cock burying 
itself deep into the hidden recesses of her cunt and felt such intense 
pleasure she felt like the top of her head might explode. "Ah! Oh! I... I... 
rmmmmmm cummmmminnnnngggg! I'M CUMMMMMMINNNNGGGG I'MMMMM 
CUMMMMIIIIINNNNNGGGG!!!" 

Her heels snapped down on the bed and she lifted her body and Rachel's clear 
up off the mattress as she arched her back and thrust her hips up, her 
buttocks tight, and Rachel sunk the male-like phallus into her cunt to the 
hilt. 

"A A A A A G GGGGHHHHHHHH AAAAA!!!" 

Jane came again and again, her body controlling itself, her mind blank 
except for the feeling of ecstasy as her eyes rolled back in her head and 
her mouth went lax and saliva drooled helplessly from the corners of her 
mouth. She collapsed in tiny, jerking spasms to arch her back again and 
again as one orgasm followed the other, seeming never to end. She felt as if 
she were going to die and die from sheer pleasure as her body curled and 
convulsed over and over, only gradually subsiding into a trembling moaning. 

Rachel sawed in and out, paused, plunged the phallus home once more then 
threw her head back and yelled, "AAAggghhha!" and collapsed on top of Jane. 
They lay a mass of sweating panting flesh, too spent and sated to move. 
Outside, Stevie Capp whirled from the window, put his prick back in his 
pants and looked at his friends. "Come on," he whispered, "We're going in 
there and fuck those broads!" 

"No, man, it's too dangerous," one of them said. 

"Yeah, Stevie, let's wait." 

There was no stopping Stevie. He ran down the side of the house and tried 
the kitchen door. It was locked. It didn't matter to him, he put his 
shoulder against it, leaned back, and then crashed against it. 

The thudding crash made Rachel snap her head up, her eyes wild. Was it Ned? 
Her heart started thumping against her rib cage. Ned would kill her if he 
discovered her like this! She leaped off the bed and tore at the dildo 
straps, looking toward the kitchen and listening. She heard the tinkle of 
glass. Although she didn't know it, Stevie had broken a small window by the 
door and was reaching for the chain lock and the knob. His friends were 
hanging back, watching, edging toward the field. 

Stevie tensed and looked around as he heard one of them shout and the front 
of the house was suddenly illuminated by lights from the headlights of a 
truck that was pulling up. He pulled his arm out and began running. 

In the den, Rachel was moving fast. The crashing and tinkling of glass plus 
the. reflection of headlights made her move fast. The phallus off, she threw 
it in the closet, put the suitcase in, closed the door, whipped on her dress 
and forced an unconscious Jane under the covers and snapped off the lights. 
She was in the hall, fearful, her heart pounding as she saw the huge hulk of 
her husband, Ned, unlocking the front door. "Ned!" she called. 

"What?" he said, looking surprised. 

"There's a prowler in the kitchen!" 

CHAPTER FOUR 

Stevie and his friends ran through the fields as if the hounds of hell were 
snapping at their heels. Stevie felt a wild elation and ran faster than his 
friends as they heard a dog barking. That would be Ned Cain's old hunting 
dog; no other dog in the county had a bay like that one. Ned had let it out 
of the pickup truck and that meant that Ned, with a double barreled shotgun, 
wasn't too far behind. 

Stevie was running, sprinting, when suddenly he was running on thin air. He 
had shot right over the embankment of the drainage ditch and came crashing 
down, tumbling, with an impact that knocked the breath out of him. He was 
still struggling to his knees as his friends came sliding and falling into 
the ditch. "Come on," he panted, leading the way as they ran, hearing the 
howl of the hound closer. 

The fat would really be in the fire if old Ned caught them. Ned had a 
county-wide reputation for being a tough customer to cross; breaking in his 
house was tantamount to murder in his eyes and he wouldn't hesitate to use 
his shotgun. It wasn't because of his good looks that he ran the biggest 
spread in the county. He was a good, hard-drinking, two-fisted foreman who 
always got the crop in on time and stood for no nonsense. 

And Stevie knew that they couldn't outdistance or outsmart that old hound; 
he was just too fast and wise for that. They ran hard, trying to get as far 
from the house as possible. A roar tore the stillness of the night and 
reverberated across the fields. That would be Ned shooting off the shotgun. 
He wasn't that fast on his feet that he could be close enough to get off a 
shot, but he probably knew they were in the ditch and was alerting the whole 
damn camp. In a few minutes, all of those fieldhands would be up and out and 
they all loved to hunt. Stevie had to think of something fast. 

He could hear the hound now echoing behind them. He was in the ditch and it 
was now a matter of seconds before he'd be on them and have them cornered. 
Stevie had to think of something. If they were caught, it was curtains. 
Almost all of them were carrying marijuana. Not even his father could get 
them out of this one! 

"Split up!" he yelled. "Jeb, Dan, come with me! Split up, it'll confuse that 
hound for a while!" he panted, yelling over his shoulder. One of the boys 
peeled off and headed up the embankment, showering dirt down as he ran. Then 
another boy went up the other embankment, each of them running low across 
the fields in opposite directions. Each of them began peeling off, confusing 
the scent for the hound. Ned's beast would stop, sniff the scent leading up 
and scamper up the embankment and stand sniffing the wind, its tail 
wiggling. 

Each time he stood, realizing it was just one scent and that the main spoor 
was still in the ditch. Down he would leap again, bounding along until he 
came to another odor leading up and out of the ditch. Ned was catching up 
with his dog now, puffing along, his huge frame laboring. "No, you damn dumb 
son-of-a-bitch, they're only fooling you!" he bellowed, pausing to whistle 
the dog back into the ditch. 

Finally, the false scents were gone and he heard the dog up ahead, growling 
and tearing at something. He grinned. Running hard, he thought, now I got 
them. 

But it was a trick. The dog was tearing a shirt to pieces. A blue work shirt 
that Stevie had peeled off and tossed up on the embankment. Everyone wore 
blue work shirts and they'd never be able to trace it to him. "Here, boy," 
Ned bellowed as the animal tore the shirt to ribbons. The dog obeyed and 
came down in the ditch, whimpering, crawling to Ned who reached down and 
petted him. Ned smiled. "We got 'em now, boy." He pumped another shell into 
his shotgun. Up ahead was the dike. Beyond that was a drainage ditch full of 
water. They either were trapped or had to crawl out of the ditch into open 
country where he, Ned Cain, one of the best shots in the county, could pick 
them off. "It's all over, boy," he said gloatingly, his shotgun ready as he 
walked carefully along, "It's all over." 

Although Ned was a good foreman, a good shot and hunter, a man who could 
belt down a pint of white lightning like it was sweet branch water, he was 
not renowned for his thinking. So it was with amazement that he saw his 
hound heading back down the ditch toward him with its tail between its legs. 
The hound shot by him like a whippet and Ned called the dog, turning to 
watch it disappear from sight and scratching his head, saying, "Now what in 
hell..." and turning just in time to hear and see a wall of water bearing 
down on him! 

Stevie and his two friends had made the dike and used all their strength 
opening the flood gates, then ran off toward a copse of trees. There, in a 
small arroyo, they flopped to the ground and panted for breath as they heard 
shouts and the sound of feet running toward the dike. Stevie lay looking at 
the stars through the branches and started to laugh. It was just too damn 
funny. Old Ned Cain was probably treading water in another county by now. 

"We'd better get home, Stevie," Jeb said, getting to his feet. 

Stevie looked up at him. "Jeb, you ain't any smarter than Ned. I oughta 
throw you in the ditch with him. Come on," he said, getting to his feet. 

"Where we going?" Dan asked. 

Stevie put his hands on his hips and looked disgusted. "We're going to the 
dike and help close it because of what them damn vandals did. Probably them 
hippies, I bet. Come on," he said, kicking Dan with his foot, "Get on your 
feet. We stay away and they might suspect us. Besides, that dike is hard to 
close once it's open and all that water is giving Ned Cain a bath." 

They hurried across the field, laughing and giggling, toward the men with 
flashlights and lanterns who were laboring to close the dike while a few 
hundred yards down the drainage ditch they could hear Ned doing some loud, 
righteous cussing. 

* * * 

The day came and, on the surface, it was nondistinguishable from any other 
day at the camp. Men ate hasty breakfasts and piled, sleepy, joking, into 
trucks that would drive them to the fields where they would bend in the hot 
sun all day long. Women said goodbye to their men and scolded the children 
who ran around screeching at one another. Ned Cain stood by his pickup 
truck, glowering at each of the workers. Somewhere, there were enemies. The 
men kidded him, giving him sly smiles with a few of them pretending to swim 
up into the trucks. Just as one truck was pulling away, a voice called, 
"Glug, glug, glug!" and the men roared while Ned glared. 

Rachel went down to the admissions office to tell Maria all about it. Maria 
clucked her tongue and allowed as "How a body ain't safe in their own home 
no more." 

Sheriff John Capp came rocking off the highway in his car and eased himself 
out, putting on his hat and sunglasses. He was a tall lean man with a face 
tanned the color and consistency of old leather. Deep lines bracketed his 
mouth and fanned out from the corners of his eyes. His walk was slow and 
careful and he wasn't known as the most talkative man in the county. He 
examined all the evidence, listened to both the Cains with politeness and 
only grunted at their questions. 

He trudged out to the drainage ditch and stood with his hands in his hip 
pockets, looking down at the water still lying there and grinning at Ned. 
"Looks like they outfoxed you, Ned." 

"Did you get elected sheriff just to tell me that?" 

John directed a jet of tobacco juice down into the ditch. "Look at the 
bright side of it." 

"How's that?" Ned hitched his pants. 

"Least you got a good bath." 

John and Ned walked back to camp with John trying not to laugh, talking 
about the crops to change the subject. 

At Ned's pickup truck, joined by Rachel who stood by her husband, a loyal 
wife, Ned said, "Well, what are you going to do?" 

John tipped his hat to Rachel, shifted his wad of tobacco and said, "Do? 
Well, I think I just might go have a cup of coffee with Maria." 

Whatever John Capp was, he was a good cop. He knew his job and did it well 
with a minimum of trouble. He knew the people of his county and acted 
accordingly. And he knew the migrant works and how they had to let off a 
little steam, sooner or later. He knew when to arrest a man for being drunk 
and when to give them a night's sleep in a warm cell. And, knowing that 
working men drinking together are going to fight sooner or later, he kept 
violence at a minimum by instinctively zeroing in on the one guy who was 
making all the trouble and ending the offender's night with a straight right 
to the mouth or, when he thought the argument was valid and the men evenly 
matched, he wisely looked the other way, letting them all get some steam 
off. 

He knew the life of a field hand is hard and the prospects for getting ahead 
pretty slim so he allowed some illegal practices to take place; like 
moonshining and gambling and, yes, one whorehouse. Yet, he ruled them 
firmly, giving one and all holy hell and trouble for months whenever they 
strayed out of line. Laconically, his pale blue eyes hidden behind his 
trooper's sunglasses, he would say, "Every man has to have something in his 
life. Men are going to drink, bet, fight, and whore no matter what anyone 
does or says. Better I know where they're doing it and just how much." 

Short of keeping an eye on the Cain's place, John wasn't about to do 
anything else. In reality, there wasn't anything he could do. Besides, 
something was wrong. Ned either didn't have all the facts or was lying. And 
Rachel. Rachel was sure different this morning. Tired looking and kind of 
jumpy. Yet happy. Happier than John had seen her in a long while. 

Nervous too. When they were talking by the pickup truck John noticed Rachel 
stiffen suddenly by Ned's side and glance nervously over his shoulder at 
something behind him. 

John tipped his hat to Rachel, shifted his wad of tobacco and said, "Do?" 
And he played the hayseed sheriff, taking off his hat and scratching his 
head as he slouched and turned to see what spooked Rachel. Behind him was a 
brand new camper he had noticed when he drove into the camp. He made a 
practice of memorizing the license plates of any new car or truck in his 
jurisdiction. 

But it wasn't the sight of a camper that startled Rachel. It was the sight 
of a white-faced young girl getting out of the camper, looking up and seeing 
them standing there and putting her hand to her mouth and backing into the 
camper and closing the door. And the look on the girl's face. John had seen 
that look before. He turned back to the Cains and grinned. "Do? Well, I 
think I just might go have a cup of coffee with Maria." 

"Is that what we pay your salary for?" Ned asked, getting into his pickup 
and slamming the door. 

John kicked some gravel at his feet. "Stay out of ditches, Ned. Mrs. Cain." 
He tipped his Stetson and walked over to the admissions office to have a cup 
of coffee and jaw a while with Maria. Maria was a good broad and, if he got 
her yakking, she'd give him all the dirt for a few miles around. 

There had been too many footprints around the den window outside the Cain's 
house. And a wood box had been dragged from the kitchen door to the window. 
The breaking and entering job looked like an amateur job and kind of hasty. 
Any burglar worth his salt would check a house carefully before trying to 
break in. Besides, he was pretty darn sure that there weren't any 
cat-burglars and the word was out that he was mean and unreasonable when it 
came to breaking and entering cases and his county was a good place to pass 
through without stopping. 

. And that girl in the camper was a stranger and that look she gave him told 
him she was in some kind of trouble. He swung into the admissions office 
with his Stetson slung low over his eyes, grinning at Maria with a freckled 
smile. "Maria, if you've changed your socks lately, I'll have a cup of that 
stuff you call coffee." 

Latin Maria, fresh from a good workout the night before, lowered her long 
dark lashes and shook a shoulder at him. "Here's John, the sweet-talking 
sheriff." 

John was right about Jane, she was in trouble. She had slept through the 
night and all the running and yelling and the gunshot like she was a stone. 
She had slept, exhausted, even when Rachel had come back into the room and 
covered her more completely and hid the rubber dildo she had so expertly 
brought the girl to orgasm with and straightened everything up. She had 
slept through Ned storming into the house soaking wet; she had slept through 
his profane harangue as he stood dripping in a puddle and shook his fist at 
whoever it was that had made such a fool of him. 

She had slept, her only movement the deep, steady rise and fall of her 
breasts, until, near dawn, she had slowly opened her eyes and lay staring, 
wide awake, without moving. She stayed that way for a long time, staring up 
without moving or blinking. It was in her eyes, it was a-kind of sun-seared 
look. She seemed to be staring inward rather than outward. 

After lying still for a long time, she slowly looked around, accepting the 
reality of being in the den, a strange room, with a sad acceptance. It was 
true. It wasn't a dream. She got out of bed slowly, every muscle in her body 
aching, her head reeling. She draped herself in a blanket and walked to the 
window and stood shivering, with wild sad eyes, waiting for the sun to come 
up. 

It came slowly, long shafts of sunlight striking across the fields and 
turning a low storm cloud on the horizon a deep purple edged by bright 
yellow. It seemed to swell and bulge on the horizon, turning orange and 
causing the fields to shimmer in heat waves. It was going to be a hot sunny 
day. 

Suddenly, Jane was all desperate action. Soon the camp would be full of men 
going to work and she would be seen walking to her camper in a bathrobe. Or, 
she could wait until everyone was gone. She couldn't stay in the house that 
long. She never wanted to see the house or Rachel Cain again. She dressed 
hastily and stole through the house and out the door quietly, hurrying to 
her camper and only breathing a sigh of relief when she was safe inside her 
camper, the door shut and locked and the curtains drawn tight. 

But her relief was only temporary. She fell on her cot and cried for a long 
time. Finally she got up and put a cold rag on her face. Every person, as 
Sheriff John Capp wisely observed, has to let off steam one way or another. 
Nature takes over when we are faced with an emotional storm in our souls. We 
drink, or go into shock, or go crazy. There is, in each person's life, a 
time when they are all alone, faced with grim facts. Such a moment is a test 
of character and will to survive. Jane was facing such a moment in her 
camper. Years of breeding and tradition were in her family. Like seasoned 
combat troops, they had learned not to panic or retreat when the going got 
tough. Tenaciously, they dug in and held fast. 

Such grit can't be inherited, science says, yet Jane felt a strength going 
way back in her family. In a state of shock, she stumbled around the camper, 
getting dressed and determined, in one way or another, to face the day, to 
get busy, occupy her mind, to work hard, giving herself completely to 
whatever she could find to do. 

She forced her will to concentrate on her dress. She dressed in jeans and 
cowgirl boots with a blouse and a fringed frontier jacket. She was going to 
look neat and clean and run her classes for the younger children, the job 
she had been sent to do. And she wouldn't think. She simply forced herself 
not to think about the night before. She had to let time go by, time in 
which she could gather strength and have the benefit of a perspective before 
she thought about what had happened and what to do about it. She allowed 
herself one thought: no matter what, she was going to have a talk with 
Rachel Cain. And this time, there wouldn't be any friendliness or white 
lightning or tea. 

She brushed her hair and pulled it back in a tight bun that looked 
business-like and severe. She paid special attention to her face and was 
grateful that the western jeans and blouse and coat hid all her bruises. She 
stood before the mirror, taking a deep breath. She looked neat and clean. 
There were circles under her eyes and she tried to smile to hide the look on 
her face. She looked ghastly, but was determined to get through the day. 

She stepped from the trailer and froze, seeing Ned and Rachel Cain standing 
by a sheriff who turned and scratched his head and looked at her. The look 
on Jane's face was wild. She had to retreat back into the camper and close 
the door, her heart thumping with fear. What was Rachel up to? Was she going 
to try and destroy her completely? Why would she do an insane thing like 
that? Why last night? Nothing made any sense. 

She lifted a corner of one curtain and peeked, watching Ned drive off and 
Rachel walk up the hill to her house, and the sheriff amble off to the 
admissions office. She watched for a long time, shaking, and saw only a few 
dogs trot by and a chicken peck around. Summoning up her courage, she told 
herself it must have been another matter or the sheriff would have come over 
to her. Holding her breath, she opened the camper door, books in her hand, 
and stepped out, locking the door. The camp seemed empty with just the sound 
of children's voices playing out of sight and a dog barking. 

She walked toward the empty drying shed that she was going to use as a 
classroom for the day when a voice called out, "Oh, Miss!" 

Jane whirled to see the sheriff walking from the admissions office with that 
no-hurry western style of loose walking. He ambled up to her, stuck his 
thumb in his heavy gunbelt and took off his Stetson. "Howdy. I'm Sheriff 
John Capp and you must be that new travelling schoolteacher. You're Miss 
Simpson." His face was freckled behind his sunglasses and his smile was warm 
and welcoming. 

"How do you do. My first name is Jane." 

"I know. I know you came in last night or the late afternoon and you're here 
to help out. Those little ones need some kind of help and I'm mighty glad 
you're doing it and if I can be of any help to you or somebody gives you a 
hard time, I'm available to help." 

"Why, thank you. That's very nice." 

"It's my job. One word of caution, ma'am. Camps like this are a good place 
to stay out of on pay night. Maybe even the night after. These boys get a 
little wild round that time of the month. They don't mean no harm, but they 
do get out of line. If I was you, I'd arrange to be elsewhere on those 
nights." 

"Thank you again, Sheriff Capp. I'll keep that in mind." Jane turned to go. 

"Ma'am?" 

"Yes?" 

"Did you notice anything unusual in camp last night?" 

Jane stiffened. She couldn't help it. "No. Unusual? N-no. Nothing. Why 
should I see anything unusual?" she asked defensively. 

John took his time answering her, looking at her from behind his opaque dark 
glasses. "It's just that someone tried to break into the Cain's home last 
night and it seems there was a kind of posse out to get them." 

Jane pretended to be busy with the books in her hand. "No, I didn't see or 
hear anything last night." 

"Uh huh. You slept in your camper?" 

"Yes. Why?" 

"Nothing. You must have slept deep." 

"Yes," Jane said, somewhat frostily. "I was quite tired." 

"Uh huh. Well, if I was you, I'd keep my door locked at all times." 

"I will, sheriff, and I thank you again." 

"Never can tell, it could be hippies." 

"Hippies?" 

"Yeah. There's a whole commune of them back in the hills. Ain't like them to 
bother folks unless it's to come out and beg for food. Still, you never can 
tell. One of them might get doped up on something and wander down here." 

Jane was interested in the hippies from the viewpoint of children and 
education. "Are they ever any trouble?" 

John shrugged. "Depends on what you mean by trouble. They keep to themselves 
a lot. Seldom come down unless, like I said, they beg old fruit and 
vegetables from growers and stores. If they got any dope, I can't see it. 
They picked their spot well, they can see any vehicle coming a long way off 
and they have plenty of time to hide anything. I go up there looking for 
runaways, usually." 

"Are there any small children up there?" 

"Yeah. They got a big family going and God knows who belongs with who half 
the time. Still, they don't break any laws." 

"Does the county make any provision for educating the children? I mean, 
those of preschool age?" 

"None." John shook his head. "Have a hard time getting the school-age kids 
to show up. County goes looking for them and they hide. Spooky lot and I'm 
still not sure I know everything that's going on there. Best you stay away, 
ma'am. Rumor has it there's plenty of drugs around hippies." 

"Thank you again, sheriff, now I must get my classes started." 

"Fine. Ma'am?" 

"Yes?" 

"You feeling all right?" 

"Yes, why do you ask?" 

"You don't look like you're feeling well." 

"Oh? A touch of the flu, I think. I'll shake it off." 

"Take care. That stuff is going around. Will you be spending another night 
in this camp" 

"I... I'm not sure. I mean, in all probability, I will. I haven't thought 
about it." 

"Well, if you do, keep your door locked. Ma'am." He stepped back and touched 
his hand to the brim of his cap. He watched Jane walk off with an 
appreciative eye as her buttocks swung from side to side as she walked. He 
took off his hat, raked his hand through his hair and set the Stetson on his 
head at a business angle. That was quite a tantalizing little piece with a 
real proper manner and face. "John," he said to himself, "Something happened 
here last night and that young lady knows something about it." He walked to 
his patrol car and decided to radio headquarters and told the dispatcher he 
wanted all the Boston authorities could give him on one Jane Simpson, 
Caucasian, early twenties, extremely attractive, occupation school teacher, 
drivers license number XLU 34198. 

He switched off the mike, looked up at the Cain's house, looked at Jane's 
camper, and shook his head. Part of being a sheriff was being patient. 
Something more than just a burglary attempt went on at or outside the Cains' 
house last night and sooner or later he'd find out. John gunned out onto the 
highway and commenced his daily rounds from sunup to sundown. Evenings, his 
deputy took over with John coming in if help was needed. People had a way of 
hiding things about themselves from him. It was natural and John expected 
it. He shook his head, thinking that he already knew more about people than 
he wanted to know. 

Jane threw herself into the day, greeting the children with a grasping 
eagerness. She needed them far more than they needed her. She won their 
confidence and control in a short time. Soon, she had them clustered around 
her as she read them short stories. She kept the length of the classes 
relatively short, allowing periods for play and resting. 

By lunch time, she was enchanted by the children and one boy in particular, 
Jose, a little Mexican boy with black button eyes who was very bright and 
burning to learn how to read. "Learn me this," he would say, pointing to a 
word. In the afternoon, she spent time with individuals; Jose in particular, 
for he was charming and very bright and she held him in her lap as they went 
through the alphabet and she felt an odd comfort and thrill from his young 
body. 

Late afternoon came and the children were sleepy and getting irritable so 
she declared an afternoon siesta and soon, they were all asleep in the 
shade. All except Jane, who sat guard over them and thought of the night 
before. It was like being touched with the tip of a very immense and cruel 
pain and she flinched from it, putting her hands to her eyes. 

A sound behind her made her jump. "Oh, you scared me!" 

A young boy was standing behind her. A good looking boy with freckles, clear 
blue eyes and a quiet cool smile that reminded her of someone or thing. He 
stepped back, saying, "Sorry, ma'am," in a quiet voice. 

"It's all right," Jane whispered, pointing at the children and then 
indicating they'd better walk a distance from the open drying shed if they 
wanted to talk. 

"I'm sorry, ma'am, if I disturbed you or anyone," the boy said when they 
were far enough away from the shed. 

"It's all right. It was just so quiet and I was... thinking. What did you 
want?" 

"My name's Stevie, ma'am, and when I heard you was here I thought I'd come 
over and see if you had any books to lend. You know, I was hoping you'd be a 
lending library or something." 

Jane smiled. "How old are you, Stevie?" 

"Just sixteen, ma'am." 

Her smile broadened. She found herself thinking something she had never 
thought before: he was at such a beautiful age; old enough and certainly big 
enough to be a man, yet still a boy. Big for his age, but still a boy. 
"Well, I don't have too many books for someone your age, but I could scare 
some things up. You see, I'm here for the pre-school children so most of the 
books I have would be for their age." 

"Oh, that's all right," Stevie said brightly. "They're not for just me, 
they're for some little kids." 

"Well, I'm going to see all the children in the county." 

"I doubt you'll see these, ma'am." 

"Why not?" 

"They're back in the hills in the communes, ma'am." 

"Yes, the hippies. The sheriff was here this morning and told me about 
them." 

"The sheriff's my pa, ma'am. I'm Stevie Capp," Stevie said brightly, 
grinning engagingly and looking like such a nice clean-cut American kid. 

"Really? How nice. Does your father know that you go up to the commune, 
Stevie?" 

"No, ma'am, he doesn't, and he sure would tan my hide if he did know." 
Stevie was charmingly honest and his grin made him look like his father. "I 
go up there when I'm hunting sometimes and I see those kids and I thought I 
could do something for them." 

"How nice, Stevie. Tell me something. If you were to take me up there, how 
do you think they'd receive me? I mean, would they mind my teaching their 
children to read?" 

Stevie looked quizzical and scratched his head like his father. "They seem a 
pretty nice bunch. Some of them are weird and all of them are a little nuts. 
I don't think they'd hurt anybody. Yeah, they might like it." 

"If I wanted to go, would you take me up there?" 

"Sure, only it would have to be this evening, tonight, because I'll be 
playing basketball every night for the rest of the week." 

"Basketball? Really? I bet you're good at it. Mmmmm." Jane pretended to 
decide, when in fact she had made up her mind immediately. She didn't want 
to spend another night in the camp and she didn't want to be alone until she 
absolutely had to. This way, she would have Stevie's company and plenty of 
children to pay attention to. "How far is the camp from here?" 

"Not far. Under an hour. Lots of dirt road." 

"Will my camper make it?" Jane asked, pointing to it. "That?" Stevie asked, 
shading his eyes. "Sure. Easy," 

"Would you please guide me up there after dinner? I'd pay you for your 
time." 

Stevie put his hands in his hip pockets and shuffled his feet, looking 
embarrassed. "I said I would. You don't have to pay me nothing." 

"We'll discuss that later," Jane said. Then she did a thing she never felt 
she was capable of. She flirted with the boy, teasing her hips back and 
forth and smiling at him in a knowing way. She laced her long fingers 
together and tried to be cool. "Shall we meet at my camper around seven?" 

"Sure thing." He acted as if he hadn't noticed her flirting. 

"Good, it was nice taking to you, Stevie, and I'll see you at seven." She 
held out her hand. 

Stevie took it reluctantly and said, "Seven o'clock." 

Jane went back to her sleeping class and sat down. She looked at the 
children, at their young sleeping faces. Whatever happened last night, 
whatever Jane was, she was now helping young children toward learning and 
that was a good and positive thing. Whatever else took place, the day was 
good and she still had good instincts and motives. Tonight, she would be 
doing still more good things. Yet, she was deeply troubled and her eyes were 
clouded and doubtful from so much pain and bewilderment. And her action 
toward Stevie-she had never felt that way toward grown men, let alone a 
young man. Yet, for a minute, such a lewd evil thrill and thought entered 
her mind and she felt a strange little twisting sensation deep in her groin. 

Last night. It had to be last night and an after effect. Her mind was 
confused. She resolved she wouldn't think that way any more. Tonight she 
would be on her guard with Stevie and she was going to do something fine and 
decent: show she cared enough to journey right into a commune and teach the 
children. She imagined herself loved by all the children up and down the 
county, bringing a ray of intelligence into their lives. She thought of 
herself like a modern Florence Nightingale, bringing the promise of 
knowledge to hungry young minds. 

She daydreamed of helping all the children, even those of Stevie's age, 
inspiring him to go to college. She made a mental note to stock up on adult 
books - the classics - the next time she went to town for supplies. She 
would be famous within the county. And she would prove she was really a 
worthwhile person. What happened with Rachel Cain would never happen again. 

Despite the heat of the late afternoon, Jane felt a chill and she pulled her 
jacket tight around her. She would talk to Rachel. Tonight, she didn't want 
to stay in the camp. She figured she'd take Stevie home then find a side 
road somewhere and sleep. She needed rest and tomorrow, when the men were 
gone to work, she would confront Rachel. 

When the classes were over, Jane went back to her camper and cooked a simple 
dinner over a sterno stove and lay down to rest before Stevie came. 

She looked at her face in a hand mirror. Her face had changed. What was it? 
She held the mirror at various angles but couldn't pin it down. She knew she 
had changed inside, for she was feeling things she had never thought of 
before. She squeezed her eyes shut and refused to think of anything but her 
good qualities. 

CHAPTER FIVE 

Stevie Capp, the sheriffs son, was right on time with his hair combed and a 
clean shirt on. They drove off in the camper sitting together up front. 
Stevie gave directions and turned off the highway where he told her and 
kicked up dust on a dirt road for a few miles then turned off on another 
road and still another. 

As the sun went down and twilight came on, Jane switched on the headlights. 
They had made so many twists and turns, Jane had no idea where they were 
heading except up, and the roads were getting more weed-strewn and seldom 
used. "How far did you say?" she asked, peering ahead apprehensively as the 
dark was coming on fast. 

"We're almost there," Stevie said. 

They swung around a curve and creeped up another slope then around on 
another trail down into an arroyo. Up ahead was a car sitting in the road, 
and Jane braked and looked at the car. "We can't go around." 

Something cold in his voice made her look at him. He was smiling, but it 
wasn't the same as before. A panic in her made her hopefully suggest, "Maybe 
we can move it?" 

"Nope." 

"Then well have to go back," she said with an uneasy laugh, shifting the 
camper into reverse. 

"Nope," Stevie reached over and grabbed the keys in a lightning swift move 
and threw them out the window into the shrubbery. 

"Young man...!" 

He looked at her with a strange expression on his face. "We ain't going 
anywhere." 

Suddenly, as if by signal, there were boys all around the cab. Beth tensed 
and stared at them, trying to keep her composure. There were seven of them, 
all the same age or slightly younger, and all of them were looking at her 
with a gleam that she didn't like. She decided to brazen it out. She turned 
to Stevie and smiled coolly. "All right, we've had our little joke. Now may 
I please have my keys back, and we'll forget this ever happened." 

Stevie looked at her for a second before laughing out loud. "Oh, wow, are 
you too much!" He mocked her, looking regal. "May ah pu-leese have my keys 
back." They all laughed and opened both doors to the cab, crowding in and 
causing Jane to cringe back, and he jammed between Stevie and a boy she 
would come to know as Pete. Pete grinned at her as she got a whiff of 
alcohol on his breath. "Hiya, baby!" he said. 

Jane tried to look away, holding her chin high. "My advice to all of you is 
to stop this immediately before you find yourselves in serious trouble." 

"Such as what?" another boy demanded belligerently. 

"Such as some of you - all of you drinking under age." 

They hooted and laughed at her, Pete pointing across her, rubbing her 
breasts with his arm. "No worry with old Stevie here; his Dad won't do 
anything. Tell us another, schoolteacher! 

They laughed at her and Pete pulled a bottle from his pocket and shook it in 
front of her face. "Little drink, come on." 

"No thank you!" Jane's voice was cold as she turned her head. These kids 
were crazy, and she couldn't allow herself to be rattled by them, she had to 
get the upper hand. "I'm going to report you all," she said in a cold fury. 

"Why?" Stevie asked in a cool calm voice, slinging his arm around her, 
"Because we offered you a drink of white lightning? Look, we know you drink 
it." 

Jane froze at the words, and her eyes widened. She gradually went numb as 
Stevie went on talking in a quiet insinuating way, and all the boys grinned 
at her and leaned closer. "Why all I'd say to my Dad is, 'Pa, we was just 
being neighborly 'cause we know this lady here likes white lightning. Why, 
we saw it happen right up in Rachel Cain's house.'" 

Stevie was leaning his young face closer, a tight lewd grin on his face. 
"Why, we stuck around and saw all kinds of interesting things." 

Jane wanted to scream, to fight her way out of the cab and run. Instead, she 
swallowed hard and tried to sound calm. "I... don't know... what... 
you're... talking about." 

Stevie grinned at his friends then right at Jane, pushing his face up close. 
"Oh, no?" he asked, his eyes rolling. "Maybe this will help you remember?" 
Then with his friends smirking and leering at her, Stevie lasciviously 
rolled his tongue around his lips and wiggled it in the air. 

Jane had to look down. She had never been so ashamed or humiliated in all 
her life. She brushed at her hair with a trembling hand. "What do you want?" 

"Just to talk. Just sit and talk and maybe have a drink or two." 

"No!" Jane said as she stiffened and Pete held the open bottle under her 
nose. 

Stevie sighed. "I'll ask you once more in a nice way. Have a drink. It's 
being offered to you country-style. Don't hurt our feelings, ma'am or else 
we're going to force it down your throat." He punched the headlight button 
off with a vicious movement. They sat in the darkness pressed together, and 
Jane thought of the threatening tone of his voice, and she was afraid. 
Drunk, the boys might get very rough and hurt her. She had to have time to 
reason with them. Slowly, she took the bottle after her eyes got accustomed 
to the dark. 

The boys murmured their approval as she sipped at the whiskey, taking just a 
little and making a face. She handed the bottle to Stevie, but he motioned 
it back to her. "You gotta do better than that." 

She took a second sip and a third at Stevie's insistence before he would 
accept the bottle and take a gurgling swig, smacking his lips handing the 
bottle off. "That's the only way to drink white lightning; get it down fast 
and sit back and wait." 

Jane watched the bottle going around. By the time it got back to her, it 
would be near empty or gone. At the most, she only had to take one more sip. 
Perhaps they would get too drunk and she could control them. When the bottle 
reached Pete next to her, he tossed off what remained and reached, to her 
heart-skipping dismay, into his coat and pulled out a fresh pint, pulling 
out the cork and offering her the bottle. 

"Drink up," Stevie urged. "You got some catching up to do." 

Jane sipped at the whiskey again and had to sip three times before Stevie, 
with a sneer, snatched the bottle from her hands, and suddenly, strong young 
hands were grabbing her roughly, pinning her arms at her sides, forcing her 
head back. "I'll scream!" Jane yelled. 

"Go ahead," Stevie said, kneeling on the seat and looming above her with the 
bottle. "Nobody will hear you. Ain't nobody around for miles." 

She lashed out with her feet but only succeeded in kicking the steering 
column. 

"Wooo-ee! She's got spirit! I like 'em with spirit." He had her head 
brutally locked in the crook of his arm, forcing it back until she thought 
he would break her neck. His other hand was trying to pry her mouth open. 
She bit his finger hard and he yelled and twisted it free. He sucked on it a 
second before slapping her hard in the face, hard enough for her to see 
stars. "Fucking bitch!" he spat, and Jane didn't know which stunned her more 
- his slap or his language. 

She didn't have any time to think about it. Stevie was splashing white 
lightning all over her mouth and face and some of it seeped in her mouth and 
down her throat, and she opened her mouth to catch her breath, and Stevie 
turned the bottle upside down as the whiskey gurgled out. 

Jane gagged and started coughing, and they let go of her neck so that she 
could cough and catch her breath. She finally heaved a sigh and fell back, 
her eyes closed. Enough of the white lightning found its way down her throat 
for her to feel it already, and it was with a dulled sense of resignation 
that she let them pull back her head once more and pour some whiskey until 
she gagged and choked. 

Then they sat in silence for a few minutes, watching her catch her breath 
and then lean back in the seat, her eyes closed. Those that were holding her 
arms felt them relax and they let go. She opened her eyes and saw all the 
young boys smiling expectantly at her. She could feel the alcohol beginning 
to take effect and she tried to focus her mind. "You'll never get away with 
this, you know. Why, just forcing me to stay where I am, getting me to come 
up here, all of this can be called kidnapping. You know what the laws are 
for kidnapping?" 

Stevie laughed again, jabbing with his elbow at his friends and giving Jane 
a little squeeze. "You invited us up here, right fellas? That's contributing 
to the delinquency of minors. How about them apples?" 

The boys all laughed. The bottle was thrust at Jane again and she drank to 
assuage her fear. What kind of thing had she fallen into? What kind of 
people were they? First Maria and then Rachel and now these leering kids. 
The whiskey burned down her throat and into her stomach. Jane knew she had 
to get out of the mess she was in. If nothing else, she could roll the 
camper downhill to a place where she could call for help or be seen. 

Then her rapidly fogging mind realized she would be rolling downhill 
backwards in the dark, and there were so many twists and turns. Which was 
the first one, right or left? 

While she was thinking, the boys were moving. Pete suddenly had her by the 
wrist. "Come on," he said, getting out and pulling her. "Not 'nough room. In 
the back, then we all can get in." 

Jane stepped out of the cab and fell drunkenly into the bushes as the boys 
laughed and pulled her roughly to her feet. She was pulled, half-leaning, 
along the length of the camper and helped in. She was pushed inside with 
Pete yelling, "Let her have a seat; give the li'l lady a seat!" 

She found her way to her bunk and sat down heavily. The white lightning was 
having its effect. She tried to focus as the boys crowded in, all seven of 
them, with Stevie being the eighth and leader. They began prying into 
things, tossing books around, laughing, investigating what food she had and 
even going through her clothing, holding her thin flimsy panties up and 
hooting. 

Jane made a feeble attempt to stop them, holding out one arm and finding a 
pint in it. "Come on, bottoms up!" they yelled, sprawling all around her. 
She drank again, finding it did indeed go down easier after a few drinks. 
She handed the bottle to Stevie and smiled at him in a futile attempt to get 
him on her side. 

Pete was rolling some cigarettes and passing them around. The boys were 
lighting them up and inhaling, holding their breath and passing them on. 
Pete handed her one and Jane looked at with bleary eyes. "I don't smoke," 
she said, holding it out to Stevie. 

"You'll smoke this one," Stevie said. "That's something special." 

"What is it?" Jane asked, her tongue suddenly thick. 

"Grass," one of the boys said, laughing. 

Jane looked puzzled, knitting her brows and looking down at the badly made 
cigarette. 

"Pot! Mary Jane! Marijuana!" Stevie said, leaning close. "It'll turn you 
on." 

"No!" Jane said, throwing the cigarette away. 

Stevie shrugged. "Okay, then it's more white lightning for our 
schoolteacher. Where the hell is the bottle?" 

"No, please," Jane slurred, putting her hands up. "I'll get sick." 

"You'll get smashed, that's what!" Pete yelled as he grabbed her again, and 
they forced her head back and raw alcohol poured down her throat and she 
choked and gasped. 

One of the boys found her Coleman lantern and pumped it up and lit it, 
adjusting the wick so that the light was low. The boys checked the curtains 
at Stevie's warning. "Any little bit of light up here will travel for 
miles." 

Jane had her hand over her mouth, still trying to catch her breath, when 
Stevie retrieved the marijuana cigarette and handed it back to her, saying, 
"Take this or another belt of booze." 

Jane took the cigarette and they lighted it and she puffed on it, blowing 
the smoke out. 

"No, take a deep drag, then hold it in!" Pete said. 

She did as she was told. She held her breath for as long as she could, 
exhaling in a long sigh. They made her smoke the whole cigarette, and she 
was grateful for the time, trying to think of what she could do. There was a 
flashlight. She could get the flashlight and hit them with it and run down 
the trail. She grinned to herself and Stevie, seeing the grin, said, "Ah, 
the lady is getting stoned." 

The trouble was, she couldn't remember where the flashlight was. Despite the 
circumstances, it was funny that she couldn't remember, and she giggled. The 
harder she giggled, the more she tried to stop. Soon, it seemed like they 
were all laughing as hard as they could, and the camper was hot and thick 
with a sweet, pungent odor. 

Jane stopped laughing, wiping her eyes and sitting up. So much time had gone 
by. Or had it? She looked at the cigarette in her hand and was amazed to see 
that it was nothing but a tiny stub! It had gone out and just a second ago 
she had taken her first puff! 

Before she could say anything, she was handed another cigarette and somebody 
lit it for her. Jane sat back on her cot, crossing her legs and smoking. She 
had never felt so strange. She seemed to be floating, drifting, and her body 
felt good even if it seemed impossible to know how much time had gone by or 
what was happening. Stevie was next to her on the cot. "Feel good now?" he 
asked. 

Jane smiled at him and nodded. Her fear was ebbing. They weren't so bad, 
just young kids acting big. Nothing was really bad; she just had to broaden 
her mind and understand, that's all. Actually, it was kind of nice being 
with the boys and laughing. Except she didn't approve of the drinking. Nor 
the marijuana. She giggled, thinking there was so much she didn't approve 
of, yet she liked the situation. 

The boys were naughty. They were young boys growing into manhood, and they 
were being smutty and bad. A shiver ran through her body, and she became 
confused at the feelings she was experiencing. She had flirted with Stevie 
before, and now, as she looked around, she found most of the boys appealing. 
Young and appealing. She smiled around. 

"Why don't you take your clothes off?" Stevie said after a silence. 

And there was another silence without any of them moving. All of them were 
looking at her. It seemed an eternity before she could say, "No, that would 
be wrong." 

"Come on," Stevie said impatiently, "We all saw you do it with Rachel." 

"That was different." 

"Oh, sure, yeah, right!" the boys called to one another. 

"You a dyke?" Stevie asked. 

"Huh?" Jane wasn't exactly sure what he meant but guessed. "No. Rachel Cain 
tricked me and I'm going to report her." 

"Yeah, you do that," Stevie said dryly, "And be sure you tell my Dad just 
how much you loved it." 

"She tricked me!" Jane said with as much vehemence as she could muster. "She 
got me drunk and gave me some tea to drink, and I didn't know what was 
happening. You've got to believe me! I'm not that kind of girl!" 

Stevie put his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eyes. His eyes 
were bloodshot and wild. "Maybe you really think you're not that type of 
girl, but I saw you in action and you loved it. Now I'm going to lay it out 
for you. You did it for Rachel Cain; you're going to do it for us or else." 
He held a freshly made marijuana cigarette out to her. "Now you smoke this 
or it's more white lightning." 

Jane smoked the cigarette and felt her will melting. Her body began to feel 
so good and her mind so strange. A feeling - dark, intense, forbidding - was 
beginning to churn deep in her groin, and she did her best to conceal it as 
she seemed to take endless drags on the cigarette. 

Someone was helping her out of her fringed jacket and she let them. With all 
the bodies in the little camper, it was hot and she felt more comfortable 
without the jacket. Still, there was the cigarette to smoke. Was it the same 
one or a new one? She giggled at not knowing such a simple fact. 

She leaned back on the cot, her back against the camper wall and watched a 
faraway little smile playing on her lips as Stevie boldly unbuttoned the 
front of her blouse. He finished and pulled the blouse open, and all the 
boys crowded around to look at her black bra and the snow-white orbs of her 
huge, firm breasts that blossomed and bulged out around the black material. 
A strange sensation came over Jane. Something in her like seeing the boys' 
eager greedy faces stare at her almost-naked loveliness. Something seething 
and unholy wanted her to go on while another part of her thought the scene 
loathsome and depraved. It was all right for them to act curious; it was 
natural for them to want to know about women, but it was another story for 
her to enjoy it and feel like encouraging it. 

Her feelings about the night before, the feelings her fogged mind and body 
thought and felt the night before were all corning to the surface. The boy 
named Pete and Stevie were helping her out of her blouse. It was wrong! It 
was so wrong, yet she found herself thrilling to the rough touch of their 
hands and seeing their faces so excited, and she sat back trying to suppress 
a lewd smile at their reaction to her bare flesh. Inside, she was torn; she 
wanted to scream, yet was enjoying the feeling so much. 

Next, they pulled her cowgirl boots and stockings off, and she wiggled her 
toes and they all laughed. "That's not all you can wiggle!" Pete said. 

She shot him a chastising glance, slapping him on the arm but really pleased 
and lewdly excited by his taunt. She could feel a heat and moistness growing 
deep up between her legs, and she tried once more to control herself. 

Then the boys' hands were all over her, and she fought feebly to fend them 
off. First, Stevie started unzipping her jeans, and she put her hands there 
and then hands were pulling at her bra and she fought with them only to find 
her wrists seized and held in an iron grip. They were pulling her jeans 
down, and she kicked and twisted, trying to stop them. Two of the boys were 
jerking the jeans down, pulling her panties halfway down to her thighs with 
them, and they pulled the jeans clear and threw them over their heads out of 
sight. 

For a second, they stopped their pawing and pulling and looked at her. She 
was slumped back on the camper bunk, breathing hard from her efforts, her 
chest rising and falling. One of her breasts had worked its way free in the 
struggle and the nipple was getting tight and pointing as the boys crowded 
around, holding her wrists down so that she was powerless to move her arms. 

She could move her body, and she twisted and turned, lashing out with her 
legs until the boys grabbed her slim, model-like ankles and pinned her down. 
Still, she struggled, her torso turning and her hips twisting in a way that 
only excited the boys more. "That's it," Pete said, panting, "Squirm it 
around some more! That turns me on!" 

Jane stopped and caught her breath, looking around at the boys who were 
crowding so close now. She could feel their breath on her body. She looked 
down and saw that her panties had been pulled halfway off, down over her 
stomach to where the soft curls of her pubic hair began. She looked at the 
boys. None of them were looking at her face, and she saw them staring at her 
helpless body with drugged and drunken eyes, licking their lips and wiping 
sweat from their faces. It was getting hot in the camper now, and the sickly 
sweet smell of marijuana hung heavy in the air, mingling with the fumes of 
alcohol as the bottle was passed around. 

Some of the boys were taking off their clothing now, and she saw bare chests 
and arms, and a lewd thrill ran through her again. She was lying half across 
the cot, and the straps to her bra were hanging down over her shoulders and 
the huge, beautifully-formed breast that had worked its way loose and jutted 
up for all to see. Her slim waist and stomach were naked for down below her 
navel, and her smooth, well-formed thighs and legs were naked and held in 
place by strong little hands. Pete lifted her head and offered her the neck 
of the bottle, and she raised her head, opening her mouth to take a drink, 
and Stevie's hand slid behind her back and undid the clasp to her bra. 

She began struggling again as the boys watched her body writhe, and Pete ran 
a rough hand down her silky, squirming stomach and on to her softly curling 
pubic fleece under the panties as he said, his voice low, "That's it; I like 
to see you squirm, teach, baby!" 

She stopped again and lay still with her eyes closed as they pulled her bra 
from her, and she felt small, insistent hands playing eagerly with her 
breasts. The alcohol and grass was having its full effect now, and she 
opened her eyes a slit to see hands running all over her naked titties; 
hands, young hands, fighting with one another to touch and caress and 
squeeze and pinch her nakedness, and her face winced and her breasts jumped 
and quivered as they were squeezed and pulled and her nipples were pinched 
hungrily. 

Her nipples seemed to have a life of their own as they were teased at and 
pulled, and they leaped into an obscene life, tightening and growing 
pointed, sending lewd thrills through her body. "N-no. No. NO!" she shouted, 
trembling, fighting once more. She felt her cunt lubricated and her vaginal 
lips swelling with an excitement even greater than she had felt last night 
with Rachel Cain! Her position was so helpless, and strangely, that very 
helplessness was becoming exciting to her! God! She thought, I'm losing my 
mind! 

"Stop, stop, are you crazy!" she screamed, the words tearing through her 
throat as she struggled all out against the hungry, searching hands of the 
young teenage boys. 

They were lifting her clear of the bunk now and pulling her thin flimsy 
panties down, tearing them as they did. Then they had her by the arms and 
legs, suspended in the air above the bunk, and she was struggling and 
twisting as they slowly pulled her legs apart, and there she was, naked in 
front of them, obscenely naked, writhing, twisting, her hips pumping and 
turning as they pulled her legs apart and saw the thin little slit of her 
cunt glistening in its nest of warm curling pubic hair in the weak light. 
Tiny droplets of sweat broke out on her body, and her breasts jiggled 
obscenely, her smooth, white stomach rippling as her hips bucked and twisted 
vainly against the teenagers' combined strength. She threw her head back and 
screamed, only to have a hand clap over her mouth, and she felt hands, young 
boys' hands sliding up and down her legs and fingers probing at her now 
completely defenseless cunt. 

"Damn!" a voice said, "She's hot and ready to go." 

"Let me see her pussy, too!" 

Jane raised her head, the hand still over her mouth, her eyes wide, to see 
the boys staring bug-eyed up between her widespread legs, and boyish hands 
were all over her cunt, spreading the soft, hair-lined lips wide and 
probing, caressing, hurting her, yet exciting her wildly against her will. 

"Hey!" Stevie called, "Where's Sammy? Sammy's the youngest and he saw the 
least last night so he gets the first fuck offa teach, baby!" 

All the boys were laughing and calling, and Sammy, just turned fourteen, was 
shoved forward, and Jane watched with her own eyes bulging wild now, the 
veins standing out in her neck and forehead as she saw the young thin boy 
get between her wide-held legs and start to pull his jeans down to his knees 
as the other boys renewed their grips on her arms and ankles and mouth. All 
she could do was make muffled sounds and thrash her head around and move her 
body, writhing and struggling to be free. 

Sammy now had his pants down to his knees and stood slim and young between 
her thighs, holding his erect young prick in his hand as she struggled, her 
body still suspended in mid-air about three feet off the floor. Her 
struggles only succeeded in making her look even more lewd and abandoned as 
her hips bucked and gyrated and her breasts heaved and spread lewdly and 
hands grasped them and a mouth went hot and wet over one of the nipples. 
Jane finally, her strength gone, let her head fall back, and she moaned 
softly into the hand over her mouth and she felt another mouth suction over 
her other nipple, and the two mouths were sucking and biting at her at the 
same time, and she felt a lewd lascivious thrill shudder through her body. 
She couldn't help it; the alcohol and marijuana were shutting off the 
moralistic portions of her brain, and she was becoming increasingly 
uninhibited and... it felt so good. 

She could feel the blunt end of the boy Sammy's young eager cock pushing on 
her cunt now, and she struggled again but only succeeded in running the head 
of his cock up and down the wet slit of her cunt and exciting herself all 
the more. She strained and looked up once more and saw Sammy smiling 
excitedly between her legs, his cock in his hand. He looked so young and so 
slim and eager! 

She felt the head of his warmly jerking little penis softly parting the lips 
of her vagina and slipping lubricated into her cunt, tickling her slightly 
inside, and she struggled again, squirming her hips in mid-air, and the 
fourteen year old went wild and began fucking her with a youthful abandon, 
his thin, boyish penis worming in and out of her cunt, and she let her head 
fall back again as she moaned out her total helplessness. 

The boys were crowded around now, holding her in mid-air, watching Sammy's 
prick slide in and out of the teacher's helpless cunt. They saw Jane 
gradually give in, the feeling too good to resist. They saw the fluted, 
hair-covered edges of her vaginal lips grow taut and seem to cling to the 
slippery shaft of the prick as it pulled out then saw the same lips suddenly 
quiver and begin to grow as tight as rubber bands and roll in on themselves 
as he excitedly plunged home. 

With a lewd greedy delight, they saw those firm lovely hips of hers begin to 
pump, undulate and writhe with a life of their own, and it seemed as if her 
hips were on ball-bearings or steel springs as they began moving. Sammy 
could ram it home in her now and stand still; Jane would do all the fucking 
as her mind went hazy, and only one thought dominated her mind; she was in 
front of all these boys, naked, her legs spread wide, being fucked by a mere 
child, and it was obscene as they watched her being fucked and she loved it! 

Her mind wasn't clear now; her position was helpless and she loved it! Let 
them do anything they wanted! She would give in and do anything they wanted! 
It felt so good, his young virile penis in her. Her eyes were wild as she 
lifted her head again and saw them all stripping naked and saw their 
youthful cocks in all sizes and shapes and all of them hard and erect! And 
they were all watching her get fucked crazy by an even younger boy! It was 
lewd, it was wrong, and yet at the same time it was so delicious! They were 
going to do it to her anyway. Why not enjoy it! 

A feeling of strange power came over her. In her alcohol-fogged mind and 
pot-drenched thinking, she found a strange power in being helpless and 
humiliated and doing something obscene. She was making them all wild with 
lust! She had a power over them! She ground her hips forward and squeezed 
Sammy's cock in her cunt as they all watched, and the fourteen year old 
yelled, and his whole body convulsed, and she could feel his hot young cum 
spurting eagerly into her hungrily milking cunt, and it only intensified her 
desire. She had to get more! She had to have more fucking! If only Bob had 
gone on and done it to her back in Boston that night, if only he hadn't 
passed out! 

Then, Bob fled from her mind as the young half-child between her legs fell 
away with a moan and the boys laughed, and she realized they no longer had a 
hand over her mouth. She was kissing the teenager named Pete now while he 
flicked his tongue in her mouth as two other boys continued to suck on her 
breasts, and she felt hands all over her sperm-moistured cunt and buttocks, 
probing and massaging her body and driving her mad with desire. Her hot 
pointed tongue darted back in Pete's mouth, and Stevie was saying something 
and they were pulling away, shifting her, putting her down on the soft rug 
of the camper floor on her knees. 

She opened her eyes and saw herself kneeling naked in the middle of a circle 
of boys, and they were all naked and all she saw were muscular, naked legs, 
some with hair on them and balls and cocks. Young eager pricks were all 
around her and they were crowding closer. 

Stevie was in front of her face, naked and spreading his legs and bending 
his knees slightly, holding his cock with one hand in front of her face. She 
looked at it with half-closed eyes. It was bigger than the others, and it 
was naked and right in front of her face. It looked cruel and somehow 
threatening as Stevie slowly pulled the skin back, and the thickening 
mushroom head gradually emerged right in front of her eyes. The camper was 
quiet now except for heavy, excited breathing, and the boys were crowding 
closer around her in bated anticipation of what was to come. 

She found herself hemmed in by a wall of hot sensuous flesh and stiff, 
swelling young pricks. They pushed in all around her; she could feel strong 
thighs pressing against her back and shoulders; she could feel the thick 
erect cocks pushing against her flesh. It was getting hotter in the camper, 
and it was hard for her to breathe. In front of her face, she saw the 
sheriff's son's prick loom large, and she felt the end of it brush her lips. 
She tried to pull her head back and found herself pushing against another 
cock. Stevie swung his cock back and forth across her tightly sealed lips as 
the boys giggled and pushed closer. Something was wet on her lips, and she 
licked them with the tip of her tongue. It was a drop of cum oozing 
excitedly out from the gland! 

It tasted odd and yet good. Desire, like a red hot wire twisted deep in her 
groin, and Stevie was pushing his groin against her face, forcing her head 
back and hands were reaching down and caressing her heatedly perspiring 
breasts and buttocks as she knelt helplessly on the floor. Someone had her 
hands and was guiding them upward, and they were placed on Stevie's prick 
and she held it with the tips of her fingers and felt its hardness and the 
way that it throbbed and felt lewd. 

She closed her eyes, knowing what they wanted her to do; she had heard about 
it; it was something that homosexuals and prostitutes, whores did. Here she 
was, acting like a whore! And the night before, she had been perverted and 
depraved with another woman! And in spite of her revulsion, she had loved 
it! She felt more excited than ever before. She felt lewd and obscene and 
never dreamed that there would be such a thrill in being so lascivious and 
abandoned! Her mind was whirling and dizzy with the fact that, although she 
had never known it, she was a lewd and sensuous person. She loved it! She 
squeezed the sheriffs son's penis in her hand and heard him moan and felt 
the shudder of pleasure run through his body. What a lewd, wonderfully 
exciting power she had! 

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth as all the boys moaned and 
whispered hoarse encouragement to her, and she felt her hot, wet mouth close 
over Stevie's hot, thick hardness, and she sucked on it and found she liked 
the heat and hardness of his cock in her mouth. She loved the taste and the 
feeling that she was pleasing him wildly. She felt Stevie's hands tangle in 
her hair and hold her head in place as he fucked her in the mouth, his hips 
pumping lewdly with Jane letting go of his prick and her hands running up 
and down his tense trembling thighs then stroking around until she felt his 
tight masculine buttocks, and she cupped the working cheeks and helped him 
shove his cock deeper into her throat. 

She was gagging on his cock but loving it. Boys were pulling at her hands, 
and she let them guide them, feeling her fingers closing around more pricks 
as Stevie slowly sawed in and out of her mouth as the boys watched, fondling 
her breasts and cunt and buttocks, and she found herself squirming with 
delight as her hands stroked their pulsating hardness, and she felt one 
swell, and he shot his hot, white cum all over her shoulder where it was 
smeared down all over her breasts and stomach so that her torso glistened in 
lewd boyish cum. Stevie was growing more excited, his hardened young cock 
swelling even more in her mouth. The boys watched breathlessly as he slowly 
pulled the tip from between her even white teeth, and Jane's lips pucked 
out, struggling to stay around the throbbing head as she sucked as hard as 
she could, making hollows of her cheeks as her tongue swirled voraciously 
over the end. Then Stevie would gradually sink the head back in, her 
greedily sucking lips slipping noisily up the shaft as she sucked, her 
cheeks bloating outward from the pressure as she fought to keep from gagging 
as it forced its way deep into the back of her throat. 

She was so hot now, she was past thinking. Behind her, Pete had spread her 
knees and reached down from behind, his naked prick pressing against her 
back, and he had forced his hand between the crevice of her buttocks and was 
massaging her tight, puckered anus. Her desire was so great that she thrust 
out her ass lewdly, spreading her thighs as wide as possible, and Pete's 
hand was exploring lower and his middle finger was teasing up inside her 
cunt, igniting a hot desire that made it twitch and throb with the need to 
be filled. 

Stevie, watching what was happening, began sinking to the floor and lying 
down on his back with the school teacher hanging onto his cock with her 
tightly locked lips, sucking with all her strength. She was on her knees 
now, her head bobbing wildly up and down on the boys excitedly jerking cock 
and loving every moment of it. 

Pete was kneeling behind her, and she spread her legs and buttocks wide and 
felt the delicious thrill of the young boy's hands on her nakedly quivering 
buttocks, spreading them and his prick pushing against her omnivorously 
inflamed pussy. She moaned with the sheriff's son's prick in her mouth and 
sucked harder, whirling her tongue around the burgeoning head as she felt 
her legs being forced wider apart behind her and Pete's cock sliding hotly 
up inside her open pussy, filling her tightly and beginning to, with hard, 
buttock-flattening strokes, fuck wildly into her, causing her whole body to 
convulse and her breasts to quiver like jelly in young teenage hands that 
teased and fondled greedily. Then... she felt herself suddenly cumming in a 
lewd heat, and the orgasm burst up inside of her stomach like a gas 
explosion in a deep well mine. Her body tensed and then convulsed crazily as 
she found herself caught up in an insanely rising ecstasy, every nerve in 
her body tingling and vibrating with pleasure as she felt the boy named 
Pete's cock slamming in and out of her cunt from behind and Steve was 
pumping his hips in front of her, shoving his ever growing prick deeper and 
deeper into her hotly sucking mouth. 

And her orgasm seemed to go on and on relentlessly as her eyes rolled 
crazily in her head, her nakedly perspiring body still trapped and buffeted 
tightly between the two boys as they fucked her unmercifully between her 
tightly locked lips and open pussy. 

Stevie came first in her mouth, her eyes growing wild and wide, her cheeks 
bulging grotesquely out as he pumped his white-hot young cum deep in her 
desperately gulping throat. She swallowed hard to keep from choking and 
strangely found herself loving the boyishly virile taste, and more than 
that, more than any sense could say, she loved the idea of being helplessly 
naked with a lust-driven teenager doing such an obscene thing as cumming in 
her mouth with all the other young boys seeing how lewd and abandoned she 
could really be. She loved it now and they knew it! 

Pete, looking down over her shoulder and seeing his friend Stevie cum, began 
fucking her all out from behind with an animal growl in his throat, and Jane 
grunted under each new blow, grinding her buttocks up lewdly to hungrily 
absorb the next jarring jolt, each rapid downward thrust of his hardened 
young cock jerking her head back and knocking Stevie's rapidly deflating 
penis out of her mouth until it slid free, with the young teacher still 
desperately trying to suck it back. Then, it slipped a few inches away, her 
lips only attached to it by a few thin rubbery strands of cum that she 
eagerly licked inside while the boy behind her groaned loudly and pumped his 
own cum deep up into her straining cunt, and as Jane felt the warm, wet 
thrill flooding hotly into her, she was on the verge of still another 
orgasm. 

Pete was being pulled off her still-quivering buttocks by the other boys, 
and they were breathing intently. The odor of the camper smelled of alcohol, 
pot and cum, and all their naked young bodies were sweating excitedly and 
all of them were silently moving. They didn't have to hold the aroused 
teacher anymore or make her do things. They were helping her to her feet, 
but they didn't have to. Jane stumbled onto the camper bunk and rolled over 
flat on her back, bending her knees lewdly up and spreading her legs and 
thrusting her pelvis up so that her cunt was spread and open, its soft, 
hair-lined lips sperm-covered and still throbbing hungrily, her firm white 
breasts cupped in her hand with the nipples held up invitingly. If she was 
going to be treated like a whore, she was going to act like one! She was 
going to use the obscene power she had just found over the boys and make 
them fuck her blind whether they wanted to or not! 

She lay for a split second, looking down with passion-glazed eyes at her 
naked body on the bunk. Her naked flesh was covered with a thin film of 
glistening perspiration, and her hips were grinding down into the cot then 
thrusting obscenely up, and her buttocks were tightly clenched and rolling 
under her, and her cunt lips twisted and undulated with an undisguised, 
obscene desire. Her stomach and breasts were covered with thin, white 
trickles of the boys' slippery cum, and her hands slid over her breasts as 
she cupped them and offered them provocatively to the teenagers bending over 
her. 

Then they were on her-hot, naked young bodies on top of her and mauling her. 
A boy was between her legs and still another thin strange penis pushed 
between her thighs then slid into her cunt, and another was forcing its way 
into her mouth, and she sucked greedily, wildly on it as she undulated and 
writhed and felt her hands closing over still more young pricks. She 
caressed them as her hips twitched, and she sucked voraciously with her 
mouth. 

Somebody came in her cunt, and she couldn't even see his face as he moaned 
and jerked over her, and she felt him slide off and still another young 
prick force her vaginal lips wide and slip home. She felt herself helpless 
as she came again, and her body shook and trembled as virile, teenage cocks 
fucked her in the mouth and cunt. Oh God! It would go on all night, she 
hoped through her lust-deranged mind. 

And it did. There were lulls when the boys slumped around the camper, naked, 
smoking marijuana and drinking white lightning as they watched the naked 
young teacher on the bunk again sucking the fourteen year old Sammy's prick 
greedily. All of them had fucked her at least once, and her body was covered 
and glistened with sweat, and her hair was wet, and she had cum over and 
over and still she was going! Watching her kneel over the thin, naked form 
of the fourteen year old and suck hotly with her hips pumping lewdly up and 
down behind her, Pete felt his penis growing again and he got up with a 
moan. 

Sammy let out a yell and his body stiffened, and Jane stroked his hips 
lovingly as his back arched, and he shot virile young sperm in her mouth, 
and she greedily swallowed it. 

Pete was about to lunge for Jane when Stevie stopped him. "How about both of 
us at the same time?" he whispered in Pete's ear. 

"Huh? How?" 

Stevie cupped his hand and buzzed in Pete's ear, and Jane saw a lewd smile 
spread over his western boy face. Young boys could look so excitingly evil! 
She was exhausted, and her head was whirling from too much white lightning 
and pot, but she didn't care. There was a fire in her, and only young boys 
with their eager bodies could put that flame out. She fell back on the cot, 
holding her arms up to the sheriffs son as he advanced on her. "No, not that 
way," he said, and Pete gave an arrogant little laugh. "On your stomach." 

Jane obeyed instantly, rolling over on her stomach and spreading her legs, 
grinding her buttocks up lewdly. Stevie was kneeling behind her. Jane grit 
her teeth against the thrill as his hands seized her soft, yielding buttocks 
and spread the smooth, rounded cheeks wide apart. This was the position she 
liked best; it seemed the most helpless and humiliating and obscene, exactly 
the way she felt at the moment. 

She felt the head of the teenager's smooth rubbery cock pressing hotly 
against her naked little anal mouth, and she twitched and ground her hips up 
so that his prick would be lower and could enter her still-throbbing cunt. 

But Steve Capp just pressed down harder, his nails digging into her buttocks 
and hurting her as he pushed her down and spread the gently quivering cheeks 
even further apart and insinuated the blunt end of his penis on her anus 
again. 

"Fuck her ass," Sammy whispered, his prick waving erect again. They all 
crowded around again, watching as Stevie got in position and bore down hard 
with the head of his prick on her tiny puckered anus, spreading it wide with 
outward pressure from his thumbs. 

"Fuck her in the ass," another boy whispered. 

"Yeah." 

"Fuck her good, Stevie." 

"Fuck her in the ass so we can see!" Pete said, crouching low. 

Jane's body tensed. Her anal lips were being stretched wide and it hurt. 
"Oh, God! Wait!" she panted. She tried to move and get up, but hands seized 
her, and she was pinned back in her subservient kneeling position. "No, it 
hurts!" she groaned. 

Stevie was straining forward with his cock, burying himself in her soft 
buttocks and painfully spreading her anus even more. She tried to struggle, 
wiggling her hips but only aiding the lustfully throbbing head to get a 
firmer position, and she cried out in pain. "No! I'll do anything, anything! 
Not this! ANYTHING!" 

The boys were spreading her legs wide again and Stevie had his thumbs dug 
in, spreading the soft yielding crevice of her ass-cheeks as his cock-head 
slowly wormed its way inside, stretching the tight, rubbery ring of her anus 
as she screamed wildly in useless protest. One of the boys, an excited 
tenseness on his lips, pushed her face down hard into the mattress to quiet 
her. 

Behind, her hips and buttocks were held by other hands now as the sheriffs 
son continued to slowly, inexorably force his way forward, making a face, 
his penis head hurting because it was lodged so tight in her tightly 
clenched rectal lips. But he was determined to get it in. Then, with a 
sudden lewd-like popping sound, the tight rubbery-ringed entrance to her 
rectum gave way before his relentless pressure, and the head of his cock 
jerked forward, the entrance snapping shut like a steel trap around the 
first two inches of his hardened pole of flesh. 

Jane's body tensed and fought its way loose from the boy's grasps with a 
superhuman strength as she felt a pain greater than any she had ever felt 
before. She felt like she was going to pass out as she let out a long, 
muffled cry down into the shaking mattress, and her face twisted as tears 
flooded her eyes. She could fight all the boys off with her insane strength, 
but she couldn't do anything about Stevie's lust-hardened rod buried 
painfully up in her rectum, tearing her apart and giving her so much pain 
she couldn't stop screaming down into the bunk. 

Sadistically then, the boy grinned and started slowly pumping in and out. It 
hurt him so much; it was so huge and pulsating in her rectum, but it gave 
him a sudden lewd sense of male power. He was actually going to cum up 
inside this little rich-bitch's ass-hole. He dug his fingers into her hips 
and forced her buttocks up until she was half-kneeling again and he could 
get a better position, and he shoved his cock in further, feeling the soft, 
sponge-like walls giving and parting before his boring hardness as Jane 
beneath him jerked and winced and tried to scream. This was too much! If he 
sunk it much deeper in her, she felt she would faint with the pain! 

Then, as if sensing her tortured thoughts, he began pumping his hips again, 
feeling the blunt, arrow-like head spear deeper in her as her body tensed 
until it felt like a tightly wound coil. Each time he pulled back prior to 
another stroke, the tender sensitive skin lining her rectum clung to the 
shaft of his prick like it was rubber glue and stretched out with its 
withdrawal, the rubbery ring of her anal entrance closing so tight that the 
smooth rimmed head couldn't escape. Each cruel downward thrust pushed his 
cock a little deeper into her rectum and rolled the sensitized skin of her 
back passage back in, only to roll it licentiously out again on the 
outstroke. 

Jane's mind snapped at that moment, and with a sudden sense of helplessness 
and futility, she began to relax as she felt a strange masochistic pleasure, 
like warm oil pouring over her body. It was a keen, lewd thrill that began 
deep down in her now-forever-stretched rectum and spread all the way through 
her cock-impaled body and mingled with the pain like smoke from campfires 
until one became inextinguishable from the other, and it all felt so good! 
And then, moments later, with an unholy shudder, it became even more obscene 
to her because young teenage boys were watching her enjoy the degradation of 
her lewd sodomy as she pumped her hips in rhythm to the sheriffs son's 
brutal thrusts. A loose, lewd smile split her face, and she moaned in 
delight and screwed her buttocks up even higher as Stevie fucked her so 
painfully, joyfully, deep in her now eagerly accepting rectal passage. 

This was the ultimate humiliation! There wasn't anything lower than this, 
and she was doing it voluntarily now in front of mere school boys! 

In her drug-fogged mind, lewd ideas whirled in her head, and she thought 
that having people watch her was as exciting as the actual thing. She could 
see cocks swelling again all around the camper as she fucked back greedily, 
her pain as searing as the pleasure, and she relaxed, ready to have his 
driving young cock and her passion tear her apart, blast her mind with such 
a white-hot heat so that she would be lust-crazed from then on and good only 
for wild, masochistic sex. And always with other people's appreciatively 
bulging eyes watching her degradation! 

"Yes!" she said, panting, rotating her ass. 

"She loves it!" Pete yelled. 

"YES!" 

"Want some more, baby?" someone whispered. 

"Yes! Yes, fuck me, do everything to me!" her hips were thrashing hard and 
fast as Stevie grabbed them, held them still then sunk his hardened young 
cock into her tight, inflamed anus all the way up to the hilt. Then he 
started rolling to one side, trying to pull her over with him. The boys were 
seizing her again and trying to turn her over. Jane, her eyes fluttering 
with passion and her mouth open, heaving a low moan, knew what they wanted 
and rolled over on top of the boy, feeling his strong body under her, his 
hands reaching and squeezing her breasts. 

Her eyes closed, her mouth open, Jane spread her legs obscenely open, 
feeling her whole vaginal plane jutting up at the gaping eyes. She bent her 
knees and Pete looked down and saw her legs widespread, her cunt lips open, 
writhing and inviting. She undulated her hips, and all the boys saw the 
thick flesh of Stevie's cock splitting her buttocks and stretching her anus 
and rectum to the utmost. Her face winced with pain, yet she smiled lewdly, 
teasingly. 

Pete kneeled between her obscenely splayed legs and put the head of his cock 
on her cunt and rubbed it up and down the glistening slit that trembled and 
squirmed beneath it. Jane moved her hips, feeling Stevie's prick tight and 
bulging in her rectum and held her arms pleadingly out to Pete. 

He was on top of her with a roar, and Jane moaned as she felt his prick 
plunge into her cunt with a wet, sluicing sound. She seemed devoid of breath 
as she felt the two boys begin fucking her simultaneously, felt their pricks 
sawing back and forth in different rhythms and only separated by the paper 
thin wall separating her vagina and rectum. Jane writhed and bucked, her 
body coiling and her hips pumping as much as they were allowed, and she 
thought that she would never settle again for anything less than two males 
fucking her at the same time! Boys! It had to be young boys who were so hot 
and eager, and she could make them cum up inside her again and again. 

The boys crowded close around the bunk now, their rock-hard cocks in their 
hands as they watched Pete and Stevie really begin to fuck her. They had her 
pinned in place, sandwiched tightly between them, and she was moaning and 
groaning with unleashed animal passion as they fucked her savagely. They 
watched her cum, watched her eyes roll white in her head and her mouth open 
to let out a long, low animal yell of sensual pleasure. She was cumming 
again and again as she was jerked and bucked and battered about on the 
crazily squeaking bunk, fucked with a sweet blind fury! She was helpless and 
knew it and felt she was going out of her mind with pleasure. It was too 
intense and sweet to endure as her body shook in one insane sexual spasm 
after another. 

A boy, standing by her head, looked down at her fluttering, sightless eyes 
and seized her head in his hands and turned it toward him, rubbing her 
glistening wet lips with the head of his cock. Jane freed a hand and 
squeezed the young, virile penis lovingly, stroking it back and forth before 
beginning to suck it. The boy began to pump his hips lasciviously, fucking 
her in the mouth with Jane's lips tight, locked like a rubber band around 
the excitedly jerking head. 

Then, with a wild grunt of pleasure, Stevie came in her rectum, and she felt 
the hot, sticky sperm shooting into her, filling her up and seeping out. His 
prick slid in and out easily now, lubricated by his own cum. Pete roared and 
shot into her cunt, gripping her hard before emptying his balls in her and 
rolling off with a deep, satiated groan. Stevie was pushing her up off of 
him with feeble efforts and some of the boys were helping him. She slid to 
the floor, to her knees, still sucking the other boy's suddenly wildly 
spurting young cock. 

The rest of them wild with pot, booze and desire after the obscene spectacle 
they had just seen, were on her with a brutal passion, showing the kind of 
indifference and cruelty that only young boys can. They buried her under 
their bodies and fucked her everywhere with a vicious abandon. Nothing was 
taboo, and as the night wore on, each of them took a turn in demanding that 
she do something to them, and she obeyed them all with a lusty shudder, 
feeling a lewd excitement in abandoning all her former ways and acting like 
the lowest of whores. She sucked their virile young cocks dry and let them 
cum in her mouth; she was fucked in every conceivable way, and finally, all 
of them exhausted, the ravished young teacher lying naked on the bunk and 
the camper heavy with the odor of pot, alcohol, sweat and sex, she could do 
no more. She was drained of all energy and could barely keep her eyes open. 

All eight of the boys had had enough; they slumped around the camper in 
various stages of exhaustion and sleepiness. Stevie slowly got dressed, 
yawning and stretching as he, shuffled around the camper, finding his 
clothes. "We'd better split. What time is it? Anybody got the time?" 

"It's near four o'clock." 

"Jesus, will my old man give me hell!" 

"Yeah, me too." 

Stevie waved all objections aside. "We went camping. Just stick to that 
story." He paused by the cot and looked down at Jane. Despite all the 
debauchery and exhaustion, she still looked tempting. It was the kind of 
body made for fucking. Jane stared up at him with noncommittal eyes. 

"You liked that, didn't ya?" Stevie asked with a cruel, knowing smile. 
"Answer me!" 

"Yes," she answered in a lifeless voice. 

"And you'll do it again for us, won't you? Let us all gang fuck you anytime 
we want to?" 

"Yes, you can all fuck me together whenever you want to." 

Stevie grabbed her cum and sweat-soaked hair in his hands and lifted her 
head. "And next time you're going to get Rachel Cain to come along, and you 
and Rachel will put on a show for us. Right?" 

"Yes." Again, her voice was flat and unemotional. 

Stevie Jet go of her hair and patted her shoulder. 

"You're just agreeing with me now. After a time, you'll want to." He leaned 
closer. "I'm just a kid, but I've seen women like you get hot-pants before. 
My Dad had to bust some. You're hooked. You don't like what you do, but you 
love it. That make sense? You'll see." 

And suddenly they were gone, leaving the camper door open and the cool night 
air rushing into the camper. Jane was too exhausted to try and close the 
door. It was all she could do to crawl under the blanket on the cot and fall 
into an exhausted, welcome sleep. 

CHAPTER SIX 

Sheriff John Capp was restless and it bothered him when he was that way, 
because he knew something was going on in his county and he couldn't put his 
finger on it. His day of rounds done and all of it uneventful, he went back 
to the jail, freed the two prisoners he had with stern warnings about 
getting drunk and starting fights, then retired to the house behind the jail 
to cook himself a lonely dinner and wonder where his teenage son was. 

A note on the kitchen table told him Stevie was going camping with friends. 
Which didn't really tell him anything. Stevie was full of more angles than a 
geometry book and John cooked a spare dinner and took it into the living 
room and turned on the TV. He ate his dinner and thought about Stevie and 
wondered if he did the right thing by the boy. Had he been a good father? 
After Margaret died so unexpectedly, he hadn't given a damn about anything. 
And when he did, when he could care, he had thrown himself into his work 
with an obsessive passion. He was the best damn sheriff in the southwest. 

He became very good at his job and gave Stevie a lot of freedom. Perhaps too 
much, he didn't know. The kid reminded him of himself when he was young and 
wild. Because of Stevie, he became more tolerant of people and ran his 
county with a minimum of trouble and most everybody respected his sense of 
fairplay. If he could, he kept things out of the courts, settling them on 
the spot and saving the taxpayers money. 

And he still was jittery and something was bothering him. In a vague way, it 
had to do with Ned Cain. He chuckled at the thought of old Ned being swept 
down the drainage ditch like a log down a chute. He would have given a 
month's salary to have seen it. Whoever did it was a fast thinker and knew 
the land. You just don't happen on a thing like that and then think of it. 
No, it was almost a trap and whoever it was had all the angles figured. 

John stopped munching on his meal and stared at the TV only he wasn't really 
looking. 

Angles. And the break-in at the Cains' house. And that girl with the spooked 
look. Jane Simpson. And Rachel and all those footprints. He tossed his fork 
down and got up, cocking his wrist to get the time. It was after eight. His 
deputy would handle things and it seemed like it was going to be a quiet 
night and he was bothered and thought a drive in his private car might relax 
him. 

Angles. More angles than... He drove leisurely, going past the camp on the 
highway at a moderate speed. Lights were still on in the camp except for the 
admissions office. Maria and Tom Haines were probably going at it again. Tom 
and Maria didn't talk during the daytime, didn't seem to know each other 
very well, but, at night... John grinned. That was another story. 

The Cains' house was well lighted up and John figured Ned was sitting up 
there with his shotgun in his lap, waiting for someone to come along. The 
Cains' house would be a good place to stay away from at night for awhile. 
Ned was going to take it out on somebody. 

The camp seemed peaceful and quiet, just the way it should be and John was 
two miles down the highway before he smacked himself on the forehead with 
the heel of his hand. No it wasn't! Something was wrong! 

He swerved on the highway and headed back at high speed, only slowly when he 
got to the camp, pulling off the highway and crunching slowly over the 
cinders. The camper, that Simpson girl's camper was gone! He sat munching on 
his lower Up, thinking. Nothing illegal about moving your camper. Still... 
His private car had a radio system and he switched it on to the county 
answering service. The mike held to his lips, he switched it on and said, 
"Hi, Sue. This is John. Call the admissions office at the Cains' camp and 
tell Maria I'm coming over to see her on county business." 

He switched the radio and car lights off and sat waiting as he heard the 
phone ring seven long times in the admissions office before a light went on 
and the shadow of Maria could be seen answering the phone. He grinned, 
waited a suitable length of time then got out of the car, slamming the door 
and walking clumping up the steps to the office, coughing loudly. 

Maria met him at the door, he hair wild and a robe around her body. "What 
the hell do you want this time o' night, John?" 

He tipped his Stetson courtly. "Evening, Maria. Sorry to get you out of 
bed," he said with a grin. 

Maria slouched against the doorjam, blocking his entrance. Beguilingly, she 
smiled at him. "Go to hell, gringo. You're enjoying it. Whatsamatter? 
Somebody speeding?" 

John grinned. "This'll only take a minute. I see Miss Simpson's camper is 
gone." 

Maria shrugged. "Big deal." 

"Where was she last night when Ned was chasing around in the dark?" 

"Dio!" Maria's dark eyes flashed as she gestured with a Latin flourish. "I'm 
supposed to know? You wanna know what goes on here, make me a deputy or 
something, then I tell you! 

"You didn't see her at all?" 

"No, not at all. Not until the next morning when she teach the babies, the 
children. Why?" Maria was interested. John could see that she was thinking 
back. In all the excitement, she had seen everyone but her. 

John examined a fingernail and asked casually, "You don't know where she is 
now?" 

"No. Why? Hey, gringo, I got better things to do than fink for you. What she 
done, huh?" Maria's Latin was up again. 

"Nothing, not a thing. She's just green that's all and I'm a little worried 
about her." 

Even before she spoke, John knew she was lying. It was a knack he had picked 
up over the years. People in trouble were almost certain to lie to a 
sheriff. Human nature being what it was, people lied to law enforcement men 
even when they weren't involved directly. No one liked to inform and John 
personally hated informers. "She left. She drove off around seven." Maria 
didn't look him in the eye. 

"Oh? Did she say where she was going?" 

"No. I didn't talk to her." 

"Was she alone?" 

"I theeeenk," Maria said, drawing out the word as she looked away, "I 
theeeenk maybe somebody was with her?" 

"A man or a woman?" 

"I dunno," Maria answered with a shrug of the shoulders. "Theeeenk maybe I 
ask everybody his business, huh?" 

John grinned. "No, of course not." Hell, he knew Maria asked everybody 
everything she could find out. Maria had told him enough, he wouldn't learn 
anything more from her. He tipped his hat. "My apologies to Tom. Remind him 
that he'd better get plates for his truck or I'm going to write him up." 

Maria grinned wickedly and flicked a hip at him. "Tell him yourself on your 
own time, sheriff big man." 

The door was slammed and the lights snapped off and John walked away 
grinning. Maria was all right and maybe he ought to pay a little more 
attention to her. It had been a long time since he had a woman. 

But the Simpson girl was on his mind. He looked up at the brightly lit 
Cains' house and shook his head. It was the way that girl threw her body 
around and acted so haughty; like she was asking for it. 

He drove around, checking the bars and pool halls and the one whorehouse in 
his county. All was quiet. In a diner, he had a cup of coffee with his 
deputy and found everything peaceful. Too peaceful. A check of the drive-in 
movie near the county line told him there wasn't more than a token 
representation of the kids there. A few casual calls to parents told him all 
the boys were away on a camping trip. No one knew where. 

John sat in his car for a few thoughtful minutes before sighing and deciding 
that he wouldn't get any sleep that night. Although he didn't really have 
anything to go on, he was restless and every time he had felt that strange 
uneasy restlessness in the past, something had been very wrong. The Simpson 
girl had left with a passenger and Maria knew very well who it was. But she 
had lied. Why? And the Cains' burglary attempt. The ditch. The Simpson gal 
the next day. Since she had been on the scene, things were mighty furtive. 

He headed out on the highway and up into the hills toward the hippy commune. 
It was a long trip over bad mountain roads, but, he wouldn't sleep anyway 
and something was going on that he felt was his business. If anything was 
happening up at that damn commune, he would run the whole lot of them out, 
pronto. 

* * * 

Jane Simpson woke by painful degrees. She opened her eyes to see sunlight 
streaming through the open door of the camper and she moaned and turned her 
head away and went back to sleep. It was late afternoon before she woke 
fully and managed to haul herself into a seated position. Her whole body 
ached. It had been ravaged and pillaged through and through. 

The events of the night before came back like a nightmare and Jane put her 
hands to her face and tried to cry. But she couldn't, there were no more 
tears left. Absently, listlessly, she gazed around the camper and found it a 
mess. She pulled herself painfully off the cot and tried to stand. She was 
shaking with pain and exhaustion. She was hungry yet couldn't eat. Slowly, 
painfully, she put on clean clothing and cleaned the camper on her hands and 
knees. She drew back the curtains, flooding the camper with sunlight and 
fresh air. She looked out and saw that she was high in the mountains. 
Ironically, it was such a lovely day and she found herself close to tears. 
Her life was destroyed and it was a nice day. She laughed and her laugh was 
close to hysterical. 

The sun told her it was late afternoon and she had to get out of the 
mountains before dark. She couldn't stand another night there. She hunted in 
the bushes outside the window where Stevie had thrown the keys, scratching 
her hands and face. She began to cry, tears blurring her vision as she 
groped around for them. The least they could have done after taking her so 
brutally, was find her keys. Her fingers closed over them and she heaved a 
sigh of relief and wiped her eyes. 

Weak, aching, her mind a turmoil of doubt and near insanity, Jane managed 
somehow to back the camper down the road until she found a place where she 
could turn around. Looking down at the highway far below, she saw that it 
was an easy thing to get to in the daytime and she coasted down in low gear, 
reaching the highway near sundown and stopping, wondering which way to go. 

To her right was the way to the Cains' camp. To her left... she didn't know 
or care. It was away from the Cains' camp and Rachel and Stevie. She spun 
the wheel left and took off, gunning the camper, driving hard and recklessly 
until she was well out of the county and it was late and she couldn't keep 
her eyes open and she nodded over the wheel and missed a curve and plowed 
into a cornfield where she was thrown from the camper and lay still. 

John got back from the hippy commune after dawn. Nothing was wrong up there 
that he could see. The hippies had given him a good breakfast and he was 
satisfied with their stories and drove home to find Stevie in his room, 
sound asleep. He grunted. Strange a boy should go camping then come home so 
early and go to sleep. Also, driving past the Cains' camp, he had seen 
nothing of the Simpson gal's camper. 

He drank some black coffee then went out to his patrol car, notifying his 
deputy and the answering service and deciding to make a check on the camper. 
He didn't have to. George Hudson, his old friend and neighboring county 
sheriff had put her plates on call. John checked with the answering service 
and soon had George on the radio. 

A routine crackup. Fell asleep at the wheel and missed a turn. The camper 
was in good shape and the girl had only minor injuries and was in the 
hospital. "But," George's voice crackled through the radio, "otherwise, that 
gal is in bad shape." 

John flipped his mike on. "I thought you said her injuries were minor?" 

"I did!" George was a testy old guy, near retirement. "I meant that 
something has been going on with that gal. She's been up to something." 

"Uh huh. How long is she going to be in that hospital?" 

"It's going to be a couple of days before she's able to get up." 

"Roger. Keep an eye on her, will ya? And let me know if she moves out." 

"Why?" George asked, gruff and irritable. "What's she done?" 

"Nothing, nothing that I know of." 

There was a growl before George's voice said, "Seems to me to be a nice kid 
half-scared to death. There's a look in her eyes." 

"Just keep an eye on her for me, George. Be much obliged." 

"Right, See ya." 

John pulled out on patrol, shaking his head. It didn't make any sense and 
something went on he didn't know about. 

He shrugged. Whatever it was, it was history now. He drove on patrol, trying 
to forget about the whole thing. It was all history now and he was pretty 
sure that Simpson gal would keep going when she got out of the hospital. 
Western life being what it was, some people weren't fit for it. 

He was fairly sure he would never see Jane Simpson again. He decided to stop 
by at the camp and have a cup of coffee with Maria, the Latin-bombshell, and 
explain why he bothered her the night before. 

Outside the admissions office was a rented car. He got out, automatically 
memorizing the license plate. Rented cars were seldom seen in this part of 
the country. He ambled into the admissions office with his Stetson cocked 
low over his eyes and saw a young man talking with Tina. The man was a 
stranger and dressed in an eastern business suit. "John!" Maria said, "John 
theese is-" 

She didn't have time to finish. The young man stepped toward him holding out 
his hand. "My name is Bob Eggers. I'm engaged to Jane Simpson who is a 
teacher and I'm looking for her. I understand she was here yesterday." 

CHAPTER SEVEN 

It was by degrees that Jane came around. She was in the hospital for nearly 
a week. Bob was by her side constantly. He called back east and told them he 
had to stay, that his fiance was seriously ill after an accident and he had 
to stay with her. 

She seemed to be in a kind of shock or coma. She was awake, her eyes were 
open and they moved, watching Bob or the nurse or doctor, but she said 
nothing and only shook her head and turned away when food was offered. 

The hospital gave her every test, x-raying her from the top of her head to 
the tip of her toes. Particularly her head, for the doctor feared she might 
have incurred some brain damage in the crash. Bob was with her every hour 
allowed and tried to anticipate every wish. He got her camper, saw the 
damage was minimal and drove it around to the hospital and parked it where 
she could see it when he wheeled her to the window. He thought she would be 
glad to see it wasn't wrecked, that the sight of the camper might snap her 
out of her zombie-like state. 

It did, but not in the way he expected or anticipated. Her body had 
stiffened when he wheeled her to the window and pointed, saying, "Look Jane, 
it's in fine shape. Barely a scratch on her." Slowly, as if she were moving 
underwater, Jane's hands went to her face and she hid her eyes and cried. 
She sobbed hysterically and he called the nurse who called the doctor who 
gave her a massive tranquilizer and she again dropped off into a restless 
stupor. 

Bob sat with her the rest of that evening and far into the night as Jane 
slept and mumbled incoherently. He sat by her bed until the early morning 
hours until the nurse insisted he go back to the motel and get some sleep, 
"Else we have another patient on our hands." 

Bob went home to the motel and left an early call, forcing himself awake at 
seven thirty in the morning and phoned the hospital. The news was 
unbelievable. Jane was awake and cheerful and talking and eating! 

Eight minutes later Bob was charging through the hospital, six of those 
eight minutes having been used up driving there. He burst into Jane's room 
and saw her sitting up in bed, sipping tea, with color in her face and a 
smile on her lips. He embraced her and she threw her arms around him and 
pressed her body up against him. Their mouths met and she shot her tongue 
into his mouth and ground her body into him. Bob could feel that she was 
naked underneath the hospital gown and that it was open at the back, 
revealing the tight, rounded cheeks of her buttocks as he held her and 
pulled away from her kiss and looked over her shoulder. 

He backed off from the embrace with Jane trying to cling to him. "Well," he 
said, somewhat shaken and out of breath, "You're so much better." 

"Yes," she answered. 

Bob tried to hide his bewilderment. He put on his best smile to hide behind. 
It looked like Jane, it even sounded like Jane. But, it wasn't. Those were 
the eyes of a stranger looking at him in such a... brazen way. And her 
embrace and kiss. Bob was grateful for her ardor; it had been awhile since 
they had seen each other and she did have an accident and some kind of 
aftershock, but he hardly expected she would greet him so passionately, 
so... sexually. Even now she was looking at him with a teasing smile as her 
torso curled sensuously on the bed and the hospital apron was hanging loose 
from one shoulder and one long lovely thigh was uncovered and stretched out. 

Her hand slowly stroked the thigh and her eyes were half closed as she 
smiled and said, "It's good to see you again, Bob." 

"It's great to see you feeling better," Bob said, trying to keep his smile. 
Was he wrong or was she making a play for him? Had the doctor given her 
something that would make her act this way? Was she still in some kind of 
shock? 

Her hand slid slowly up and down her thigh and Bob found himself staring at 
it. She wiggled one finger, saying, "Lock the door." 

The words, "Lock the door," had such a chilling effect on Bob. It was her 
voice, her pitch and tone, yet it wasn't. Those words, "Lock the door," 
fairly dripped with lewdness, suggesting a lot to him. He kept his smile as 
he said, "Why?" 

Jane slid down on the hospital bed, her breasts bunching high and the 
nipples stabbing through the plain white cotton. The hospital gown slid up 
to her hips as she lay down on the bed and Bob saw the delicious curve of 
one buttock as she looked at him with an intensity that made him uneasy. "I 
don't want anyone disturbing us." 

He didn't really know why he did it, but he went to the door and locked it. 
Perhaps he did it out of propriety. What if one of the nurses should come in 
and see her lying like that? Lying there so provocative and tempting? He 
turned from the door and swallowed hard. Jane was lying spread-eagle on the 
bed, her shoulders free from the gown and it half covered her breasts. Her 
stood looking at her breasts with the gown barely covering her nipples. The 
voluptuous swellings of her breasts like two mounds of honey, made him lick 
his lips. 

Her long legs that tapered beautifully and curving all the way down to her 
toes. More than her thighs were exposed. One whole side; her hip, her waist 
all the way up to her globular breast was exposed to him with just a corner 
of the hospital gown flung over her upraised pubic mound. Standing by the 
door, he could see dark curling little pubic hairs peeking out from under 
the gown. 

And she began to grind and pump her hips in a lewd way, looking at him with 
a smoldering look. She gyrated and pumped her hips as if she were trying to 
work that corner of cloth off her crotch without using her hands. "Come 
here," she whispered. 

"Jane," he said, coming toward her, "Are you sure you're okay? Do you have a 
fever?" 

"Fever?" she murmured. She looked at him for a minute with her eyes widening 
before she laughed and said, "Do I have a fever? Oh, if you only knew!" 

"Jane, this isn't like you." 

"Yes it is!" she said vehemently, stiffening in the bed. "This is what I'm 
really like. Bob, do you really love me?" 

"Well, sure, of course I do. I didn't come out here for the scenery." 
Something was very wrong. She talked faster than she ever did before, 
spitting the words out and there was a strange harsh tone to her laugh. 

"Then get in bed with me!" she said, whipping the gown away and lying there 
naked, brazen, her legs spread and her cunt with its ragged vaginal lips 
spread invitingly. He couldn't help himself, he stepped back. "Jane, what on 
earth has happened to you?" 

She caught his worried tone and a contemptuous look came on her face. 
"Plenty! How long have I been gone?" 

Her tone demanded he answer. "A little over three weeks from the time you 
left Boston." 

"Wrong!" She laughed at him. "I've been gone three years or thirty years." 
She looked at him with wide eyes. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do 
you? I've been gone a long, long time. I'm not the same person I was then. 
Come to bed with me!" she said, holding out her arms. 

Bob looked dubious, rubbing his jaw, trying not to look at her writhing 
naked form on the bed. She was so beautiful and tempting and he thought, for 
a second, of taking her up and crawling into bed with her. 

He walked to the bed, looking down at the floor, not looking at her. Her 
hands were out, caressing his thighs and a lewd chuckle was heard in her 
throat. Her hands were stroking his thigh, drawing closer and closer to his 
groin and he felt his cock growing hard in his pants. He wanted her badly. 
His hand reached out... and picked up the telephone. "Desk? Hello? I want 
the nurse on duty." 

"What are you doing?" Jane asked, her eyes narrowing, sitting up. 

Bob put his hand over the phone. "You're ill, Jane, something is wrong." 

"Wrong? Wrong?" she asked, her voice rising, "I'll tell you what's wrong! 
You're wrong! You are so wrong! You are a wrong one! I hate you!" 

Bob was stunned by the force and fury of her words and intentions. Never had 
he dreamed Jane could or would act in such a way as she was now. He had to 
struggle with her, restraining her from attaching him; only now it wasn't 
sex, it was hate and she wanted to hurt him. He had a rough time restraining 
her and getting her under the covers and unlocking the door so that the 
nurse could help too. A doctor was finally summoned and she was given 
another injection of a heavy tranquilizer. 

Outside her room, in the hall, he was consoled by the doctor who was an 
older man, near sixty and ready to retire. His tanned and lined face had 
seen all kinds of heartbreak and disaster and he put his arm around Bob and 
tried to ease his burden. "Look, she'll sleep the rest of the day and 
there's no sense in you hanging around and brooding. No sense at all. Get 
out, eat a good meal and take a drive out in the desert. Do something. That 
girl of yours had a shock, a big shock, see? And she hasn't come out of it 
yet, not by a wide margin. Time, gotta give her time." 

"But it's just not like Jane." 

"I know. I believe you. You believe in time. She'll tell us what's bothering 
her when she's good and ready. Trust me." 

The doctor watched Bob walk dejectedly down the corridor and out of sight. 
He shook his head. If he had the courage, he'd tell that young man to get in 
his car and drive as far away from Jane Simpson as possible and forget about 
her. He, the doctor, had given Jane a thorough physical examination when she 
was brought into the hospital. Putting things together, he got a pretty 
graphic picture of what had caused Jane to crack up. Experience told him to 
keep his thoughts to himself until Jane herself said something. 

She never did, so why should he? How do you tell someone like Bob that the 
girl he wants to marry has been involved in some kind of no-holds-barred 
orgy? He grunted and went about his duties. The answer was obvious: you 
don't. You keep your mouth shut and do your job and wait out the few years 
left until you could get up in the mountains where things made sense and the 
air was clean and the fish rising to the bait. 

The day passed without incident. Bob was having dinner in a restaurant that 
night prior to going to the hospital when he got a phone call. It was from 
the doctor. 

Although none of them knew it about the other, Bob, Rachel Cain, Stevie 
Capp, and Sheriff John Capp all got phone calls at the approximate same 
time. Bob's call was from the doctor. "Is Jane with you?" 

"What!" Bob swallowed. "She's at the hospital!" 

"No she isn't. The nurse, making her rounds, found her bed empty. I was kind 
of hoping she might be looking for you." 

"Oh, God!" 

"Don't panic. Near as we can tell, she could be gone over two hours. Have 
any idea where she would go?" 

"The camper! Is there a black and white Econoline camper parked in the lot?" 

"Wait!" The phone was rattled down and Bill could hear footsteps fading from 
the phone then coming back. "Hello? No, there's no camper there." 

"The she's got it. The keys were under the floor mat. She's got the camper 
and God knows where she's going." 

There was a pause before the doctor, in a calm voice, said, "Unless you've 
got a very good idea where she is, I've got to notify the police." 

Thus is was that the authorities were notified to be on the lookout for Jane 
Simpson and Sheriff John Capp saw the teletype and grunted. Rachel got a 
call from Jane and left home, driving Ned's pickup. Ned was again out in the 
fields for the night. Sheriff John got Jane's call, Stevie himself, not 
recognizing her voice. He turned the call over to Stevie without a thought 
and paid little attention to it. 

And thus it was that so many people turned their time and attention to the 
task of getting together with Jane Simpson. And thus it was that Stevie rode 
with Jane up to the hippy commune while Rachel traveled in Ned's pickup 
while John and his deputy patrolled the highway and side roads in search of 
Jane's camper while Bob drove the highway for fifty miles in one direction 
before turning around and driving all the way back. Always looking, looking. 

The commune was far back in the mountains, high up, a hard grinding climb by 
car and the sun was just settling over the mountains, casting long shadows 
over the hippy commune as they pulled into it. It had been a long hard drive 
and Jane was tired and hot. She wiped her face and looked about her. There 
were several lean-to's and tree huts and, set off by itself, one big 
lodge-type house, built out of rough-hewn timber and spare parts. 

Jane was appalled by the dirt and carelessness of the place. She looked 
questioningly at Stevie, her elegant aristocratic profile covered with a 
slight film of perspiration. Stevie nodded. "It's okay, it's cool." That 
cold grin came on his face as he got out of the camper. "Just wait here 
until I give you the word." 

He closed the door and strolled casually down to meet the three men coming 
to meet Stevie. They looked ludicrous and hairy to Jane, dressed in bizarre 
pants and vests, wearing little if anything else. A sleazy thrill ran 
through her body, making her think thoughts that were impolite to say the 
least. They were downright obscene. Her cool well-bred beauty broke into a 
lewd smile as she saw the men stop and look at her with one of them breaking 
into a big grin and waving his hat. 

Then they all turned and looked at her sitting in the bus and she-felt her 
face flush as she brazenly returned their gaze. They all talked, seeming to 
argue, never taking their gaze from her face and figure in the camper 
window. 

Stevie finally raised his hands in protest and pointed at the camper. He 
walked over and got in, closing the door. He looked at Jane for a moment 
before smiling and saying, "You aren't going to believe this." 

"What?" Jane asked, watching the hippies talking among themselves while they 
looked at her and laughed and nudged one another. 

"I told them what I wanted to do and they went me one better. They want a 
good look-see before they commit themselves anymore, but, right now, I can 
get a whole kilo of grass if you just get out of the cab and let them see 
what kind of body you got." 

"You did it. You sold me?" Jane asked, her face a blank, her eyes wet and 
melting. 

Stevie looked at her and nodded. "Yeah. They like group-sex and all that 
crap. I told them about you and got the price up to a kilo. A kilo is a lot 
of grass, Jane." 

Jane nodded. Without changing her expression, she stepped out of the cab, 
dressed as Stevie had told her to be: cowgirl boots, bikini panties and a 
blouse. Only that and nothing more. Stevie had ordered her to pull the 
panties up tight into the crevice between her buttocks so that her full 
rounded ass cheeks showed. 

She stepped from the cabin and put her hands on her hips and slowly turned 
around. She fought back the urge to slowly strip naked, to stand naked 
before them and feel the wild erotic thrill slave girls must have felt in 
ancient Rome when their bodies were exhibited and bought by the highest 
bidder. 

Here she was, flaunting her body, jutting her lovely hips provocatively 
while the three hippies all grinned and laughed. "Far out!" one of them 
called to her. 

"Get in." Stevie called. Jane did as he commanded and sat next to him, 
silent, looking ahead. "I just want to see the grass before anything 
starts." He got out of the cab and walked back to the hippies. Jane sat, 
thinking: I don't have to do this. I didn't have to come here. I'm doing 
this because I let Stevie dominate me. 

A thrill ran through her body. It was true. Bob, Bob had done it. If only 
Bob had understood, had been able to help her. Now, nothing could help her. 
She had to sink down into her own personal hell; she had to experience every 
humiliation and degradation and every depraved thrill before she could ever 
feel anything else. She had to answer the driving urges in her own body. She 
had to make Bob sorry he had ever denied her body. The body, the flesh, was 
all that mattered; desire was everything. 

And it was being done. Stevie was being handed what looked like a brick 
wrapped in cellophane, and she was trading her body for an evening, for a 
kilo of marijuana; rather, Stevie was doing the trading and benefiting and 
Jane was feeling the masochistic excitement and thrill. 

They all came back to the camper with Stevie going to the back to lock the 
grass up and then three hippies crowding around Jane, looking at her in the 
cab, their faces bearded and their hair long. One looked at her brazenly and 
said, "Far out. You're really going to take us all on at once?" 

Jane nodded and the men laughed. "Man, it's her trip," another said. 

They invited her out of the cab and she stepped down, her face almost blank, 
really composed. 

Almost by signal, hippies, men and women, mostly men, appeared from 
everywhere and crowded around Jane and the three hippies made their way 
toward the lodge-type house. After locking the camper, Stevie followed them 
along, grinning cynically. It was best he didn't tell Jane what he had sold 
her for. He snorted. Hell, they had enough girls who would do anything a man 
wanted; anything at all except for one thing. And it had been for that one 
thing that Stevie had sold Jane. One kilo of their best grass for one 
performance between Jane and a German shepherd they called Osiris. Stevie 
smirked. The hot little bitch would do it once she got started and it would 
be something to see. 

In the lodge, they were all smoking grass and giving it to Jane while she 
looked at their faces and wondered what all they would do to her. Already 
her cunt was tingling and wet with desire as she speculated on what they 
might ask her to do. She accepted the offered marijuana "joints" eagerly, 
sucking in the sweet heavy smoke that clouded her mind and made time seem to 
stand still. She looked around her, thinking how incongruous she must look. 
Surrounded as she was by hippies in wild attire while she herself looked 
like a visiting debutante. 

Rock music blared from speakers hung around the big room and you had to 
shout at someone in order to be heard and they were shouting at Jane as they 
made a circle around her. She was standing next to an old chaise lounge they 
had gotten at some junk store or Salvation Army store. A great dog, led on a 
lease, strained between the hippies who laughed and stood aside as he came 
straining on his rope halter, his massive neck muscles bulging. He was the 
biggest German shepherd police dog Jane had ever seen. With his head 
lowered, he came forward and stuck his wet nose hard up between her legs, 
sniffing and nuzzling hard, burrowing in against the flimsy material of her 
panties. 

Jane jumped and tried to push the massive head away as she backed against 
the couch. The two hippies holding hard on the leash and only gradually 
inching the beast back. Osiris was his name. The head hippy, a great shaggy 
man known as "Festus," gave the great dog his name and was the only one who 
could command him. Now he was yelling at the dog above the sound of the 
music and grinning at Jane. He made motions that she should take her clothes 
off and he down on the chaise lounge. 

Jane did as she was bid. It was what she wanted, after all. She wondered if 
strip teasers felt the way she did, wanton and excited? She wondered if they 
got the lewd thrill she did when they exhibited their bodies naked and 
inviting before strange men? Forbidden fruit, the element of chance, the 
flirting with the unknown, the sexual excitement rising to a fever-pitch 
where Jane could do anything asked of her and throb with passion and the 
desire to degrade herself before other people. Especially young boys! 

She took her blouse off slowly, exposing her shoulders one at a time, 
grinning at the hippies who looked back at her with such glazed, dazed eyes. 
They crowded closer around her and the dog bared its teeth in a growl and 
strained on the leash. Despite her drug induced euphoria, despite her 
marijuana "high", Jane was frightened of the dog and tried to dismiss a 
growing fear: hippies were strange people and were capable of doing strange 
things. 

She turned her drug-drenched attention back to her body, leaving her fears 
half thought, feeling the excitement and thrill pulsating up between her 
thighs as she dropped the front of her blouse and exposed her breasts. She 
looked proudly at their amazed and greedy faces starring at her twin breasts 
so round and firm and riding so high with their nipples bursting tight and 
pointed with excitement. 

She let the blouse fall silently around her feet as she cupped her breasts 
in her hands and turned around, bending from the waist, seeming to offer 
herself to each man present. She saw Stevie standing in the back and boldly 
offered her body to him. God, she would love to suck and fuck him in front 
of all those people! 

Her thumbs hooked into her panties as she thrust out one hip wantonly. 
Slowly, as faces pushed closer and hands were reaching out to touch her 
body, she wiggled her hips as they came free from the thin, white nylon 
panties. She closed her eyes as she pulled them lower, revealing the softly 
curling strands of her pubic hair, hinting at the pulsating swelling 
excitement that parted her vaginal lips and wet the thin protective crotch 
band of her panties. 

She imagined herself going down under an avalanche of hot hard cocks and 
being fucked in every way conceivable. Her body shuddered with anticipated 
delight as she pulled her loins free and thrust her hips forward as the 
panties dropped around her feet. She stepped out of them, deciding to leave 
the boots on, it looked more wanton and felt lewd and exciting to be naked, 
wearing nothing but black boots that came halfway up her calves. 

She put her hands on her hips and stared about her with that cool, superior, 
aloof look. Then, suddenly, the men laughed and she saw Stevie smirk 
strangely and the huge German shepherd was leaping forward. She jumped back 
in complete surprise, her legs hitting the chaise as she fell. 

At the same moment, someone seized her arms and wrists, pinning her to the 
chaise, forcing her to lie on her back. Hands were grabbing her legs and 
knees and pulling them lewdly apart. Jane's mouth was open, her eyes closed, 
her head thrown back, her whole body tingling with lewd excitement and the 
desire to be fucked and humiliated. She would do anything they asked. Her 
legs were being forced wide apart, splitting open her legs and forcing her 
cunt open in glistening folds of her vaginal lips. They were bending her 
knees, forcing her hips up and her buttocks to roll under. They had her on 
her back and her legs split obscenely, showing her tiny puckered anus 
nestled teasingly down between her tightly rounded buttocks. 

She wiggled her hips and her head thrashed back and forth. This was what she 
had come to know and like. Like? She loved it! One man would never be enough 
for her again. Always, she would want lots of them wanting and taking her. 

She felt something pushed at her naked pussy and she let out a moan of 
delight and jutted her hips and undulated them, inviting whoever was there 
to do it some more. A wet tongue snaked over her cunt. But what a tongue! It 
drove Jane wild, seeming to never end and send such a lewd thrill through 
her groin that she had to open her eyes and see who it was. 

Her mouth opened and she let out a scream but it went unheard, drowned out 
by the blaring of the rock music in the background. Jane screamed with all 
her might and struggled, twisting her body as she looked down and saw the 
great German shepherd crouched between her widespread legs, its long muzzle 
sniffing over her cunt and his long wet tongue snaking out once again to 
tease between the lips of the softly hair-lined slit, the tip of his tongue 
ending on and flicking her clitoris, sending wild spasms of excitement 
running through the young teacher's body. 

She hadn't thought of anything as obscene as this and struggled to be free, 
her head thrashing back and forth, her eyes begging as she implored those 
near her to take the dog away and let her go. No one could hear her, all 
they could see was the squirming of her body and the dog crouching to lick 
her cunt and her lips moving in silent pleading as the rock music blared on. 

She was screaming and begging, looking down between her nakedly dancing 
breasts at the dog that was darting his tongue deep into her quivering open 
cunt now and Jane was jerking her buttocks vainly down under the teasing 
swirls, her head falling back and her mouth open wide. The dog," Orion, was 
licking faster and harder, his long thin tongue burrowing deeper into her 
cunt then any human tongue could ever go. The people crowding around watched 
her lips pleading then twisting with a sudden wild desire as the animal 
growled and literally skewered her body on his long plunging tongue. There 
was a momentary pause in her body movements, then as suddenly as they had 
begun, her struggles to free herself turned to lewd obscene hip pumping as 
the dog crouched lower between her thighs, his body tense, his tail wagging 
excitedly, his wet tongue darting and licking flatly on her now gratefully 
accepting cunt. 

While he slobbered and licked and Jane writhed in lewd enjoyment and 
mounting sexual excitement at his thrusts, two hippies tied heavy leather 
pouches to his forepaws so that he wouldn't cut her body with his nails. 

Jane now had both her arms and hands, which had been freed, under her back, 
her hands cupping her own buttocks and thrusting the firm, white cheeks up, 
splaying them wider apart for the hungrily slashing tongue and she was 
groaning in delight as she felt its teasing wetness slide over her hotly 
working little anus and then dart deep into her cunt. God, she wanted more! 

They pulled the dog back and Osiris bared his fangs in a growl of sexual 
frustration and fought against the leash. They were seizing Jane again and 
turning her over. She knew instinctively what lewd thing they wanted her to 
do and she crouched on her knees and voluntarily placed her knees as wide 
apart as they could go, her face down on the lounge and the firmness of her 
breasts crushed hard down into the rough material. 

Her buttocks and cunt were thrust up in the face of the huge animal, Osiris, 
who sniffed and licked at her tiny sensitive anus, causing her eyelids to 
flutter with lewd delight and her mouth to emit a passion-filled groan that 
went unheard against the blaring of the rock music in the background. She 
screwed her buttocks up higher behind her and reaching down around them, 
spread the smoothly rounded cheeks even wider with her hands, allowing the 
dog's hotly lapping tongue to lick all over her cunt and anus. 

This was it for Jane, the ultimate and final degradation. She was kneeling 
nakedly in complete subjugation before a great growling beast with a 
frenzied crowd of complete strangers waiting breathlessly for it to sink its 
huge pulsating animal cock deep up into her hotly screaming bowels. And... 
at last, she was free! She was free now to find and seduce all the young, 
virile boys she could! With an excited shudder, her drug and alcohol-dazed 
mind told her that this was what she had been made for, this is what she 
really wanted! 

Down between her legs, she felt the dog's anxiously pulsating cock, long and 
slippery in her hand. It was slowly forcing its hardness out of the soft, 
furry sheath enclosing it. She clenched her eyes tightly shut and guided it 
with trembling fingers up between the hotly quivering cheeks of her naked 
buttocks. 

"Oooooooh, God!" she groaned as the sharp tip momentarily jerked forward and 
penetrated a fraction of an inch into her tightly clenched rectum. She hung 
suspended for a long, breathtaking second, impaled lewdly on the hardened 
animal cock. Then, she groaned deeply again, tempted to ignore the sudden 
pain and take it all the way up into her masochistically wanting back 
passage. But... her hungrily throbbing vagina made the decision for her and 
she reluctantly squirmed her buttocks away, spreading her knees wider on the 
couch and guiding the long thick cock down from her anus into her wetly 
waiting cunt, the liquid moistness closing over it and welcoming it inside 
like warm, half-melted butter. 

The dog, his paws locked tightly around her naked hips, his loins pressed 
hard up into the crevice of her open buttocks, let his animal instinct take 
command and began fucking hard and fast into her lewdly grinding body. The 
young passion-crazed teacher felt herself getting the fucking of her life 
and knew that this great dog wouldn't stop until he had shot his hot searing 
animal sperm deep up into her open belly. And... she too would cum, cum like 
she never had before or ever would again. 

Then, before the last thought had even completely cleared her marijuana 
dazed mind... it happened! 

The German shepherd, his sperm bloated testicles fired by the softly milking 
muscles of the naked young teacher's cunt and the lust-incited smell of her 
female excitement rising to his widely flared nostrils, suddenly whined from 
deep inside his massive chest and humped forward into her as far as he could 
go. Jane, squirming insanely now beneath his great, driving hulk felt his 
long tapered penis swell outwards against the clamping walls of her vagina 
and then explode and jerk wildly around inside her like, a fire-hose 
unleashed from all restraining hands. 

"Oh God, fuck it... Oh God, fuck it," she chanted mindlessly beneath him, 
feeling the hotly spurting jets of his bestial semen pumping her helpless 
body full until it seemed it was filling her all the way up to her lustfully 
dancing breasts and seeping wetly out her nipples to the couch below. 

At the same time, she felt the desperately working muscles of her stomach 
twitch and cramp, the walls of her hotly milking pussy open wide and gush 
out her own orgasm in warm slippery liquid all around the dog's still 
insanely jerking cock. 

Another gush of searing white sperm splashed hotly across her hollowing back 
and into her silkenly flailing hair and she could catch out of the corner of 
smoke-glazed eyes one of the men, his hand pumping desperately around his 
hardened cock, emptying his testicles over her nakedly perspiring flesh. 

"Ooooooooh Godddddddd!!!" her mind screamed in total abandon now as she 
locked her cunt lips tighter around the dog's still hotly gushing cock, the 
inner muscles of the aroused little pussy mouth up between her thighs 
sucking him drier and drier. 

And then it was over. As she felt the last electrically charged jolt of her 
own orgasm rip through her, she opened her mouth wide and screamed out her 
protest at its end, feeling at the same time, the limply deflated cock of 
the dog slip with a wet popping noise from her sperm flooded cunt. 

She collapsed heavily down onto the couch, satiated, and yet, not satiated, 
the lewdly swirling semen of the animal in her belly sending fresh tinglings 
of desire through her already ravished loins. 

"Goddamn, did you see that hot little bitch fuck that dog?" she heard an 
unbelievingly breathless voice close by. "Man, I'm gettin' me a little of 
that pussy too!" 

She smiled a dull, lazy smile and rolled slowly over on her back. Her knees 
lifted and then her legs fell provocatively apart in obscene invitation to 
the voice that had come to her through the dull haze of her drugged mind. 

"Do it to me," she smiled lewdly. "Fuck me more." 

She felt the hairiness of the male body crawling up between her open thighs 
and felt the hardness of his cock spearing deep into her naked cunt making a 
wet sluicing noise as it hit the moisture of the animal semen still lodged 
far up inside her. Her hips ground back mechanically and she opened her 
mouth to groan loudly into the silence of the room. 

Silence! Her brain froze! She had heard her own sound! The music had 
stopped. 

She turned her head and everyone was looking back toward the entrance. No 
one moved. Back at the entrance to the lodge, stood Sheriff John Capp, a 
grim look impressed on his face and his gun drawn menacingly. No one in his 
right mind would have thought of crossing the sheriff at that particular 
moment... not even his own son who stood open-mouthed in the spotlight of 
the end of the couch... 

THE END 


EPILOGUE 

The time is one year later. If you didn't know Jane Simpson before, you'd 
never know her now. She is polite to the point of tedium and much of her 
good figure is hidden under a tweed suit and high-collared white blouse. Her 
hair is pulled back severely and done in a respectable bun and she wears 
flat-heeled shoes and horned rimmed glasses. And she is married to Stan 
Owens, headmaster of Cherokee Military Institute, a private boy's school 
nested away in the hills of Georgia where, as Stan says, "We take fine boys 
and make them fine men." 

Stan had met Jane after she had come back from her teaching job in the 
mid-west. He knew it had been an unpleasant experience for her, for she 
refused to talk about it. At any rate, it wasn't important. Jane Simpson 
came from a fine old family with impeccable credentials and, moreover, she 
was interested in everything he did or said. He had only to drop a hint that 
he liked a certain food or wanted her to wear a certain kind of dress or 
behave in such a way and Jane would do everything in her power to please 
him. Moreover, she didn't make demands on him sexually and Stan felt 
uncomfortable around women who made demands on him. 

Jane made none at all and demurely agreed to marry him and live at the. 
academy with him, helping him in his job as headmaster of the school. 

Jane threw herself into her work with enthusiasm that made Stan proud he had 
made such a choice for his wife. It seemed to him he had boys over to his 
house day and night. And the boys seemed eager to come around and Stan 
prided himself on the fact that he was the most popular headmaster and 
teacher on campus and hoped that the dean noticed. 

Open house was every night at Stan and Jane's and the boys came, eager and 
grinning and Stan sat in his study, with their great German shepherd at his 
feet, and puffed out his chest and knew he was one of the luckiest men 
alive. 


THE END
