Captured By The Klan
by Curt Mueller
(CWS-103)


Introduction 

Man's inhumanity to man takes many various forms in the modern world. Men 
have turned upon their brothers with almost inhuman savagery for a wide 
variety of motives, but the spark which has ignited the greatest flames of 
violence and hatred has been the question of race. In every land, some 
ethnic group or clan has sought to establish itself as the "master race" of 
the region, subjugating all others to its will, often with fearsome 
brutality. Nowhere on earth has the violence of the self-styled 

"master race" erupted with more cruelty and destructive force than in 
certain backwater regions of the American Deep South. 

The story you are about to read concerns itself with those racial passions 
and the violence they inspire. You will observe the agony and struggles of a 
beautiful young woman, trapped by an accident of birth among the 
"inferiors," as she fights for survival against the brutal tactics of the 
"masters" and their nightriding agents, the dreaded Ku Klux Klan. 

It is the sincere hope of the author and publishers that this work may 
contribute in some respect to bettered relations and feelings of brotherhood 
among all men. For only by recognizing the errors and sins of the past may 
we build a better tomorrow, based upon those principles of brotherhood. If 
this book in any measure contributes to that improvement of race relations 
and brotherhood, the author and publishers will have well achieved their 
purpose. 

Join us now for the heart-rending tale of a vibrant and sensuous young woman 
who finds herself helpless in the face of rampant vigilantism and brutality 
in her native land. It is a story as old as the birth of man, and at once as 
modern as tomorrows headlines. 

-The Publishers 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Maisie Dixon closed the door of the cabin behind her and slumped against it. 
Her young body shook slightly as she wept, sobbing into the handerchief held 
against her face. After a long moment, she walked unsteadily across the 
small living room and kitchen, into the cabin's tiny bedroom. 

Memories and grief swept over Maisie as she collapsed onto the broad double 
bed. The funeral had drained her emotionally, and she felt now as if her 
whole world lay in ruins around her. Two days earlier her life had been 
filled with happiness and hope for a brighter future, but now.... 

Bobby Lee had meant the world to Maisie. Bobby Lee Brown, the most handsome 
Negro man in all of Brown County. Tall and athletic, with steely muscles 
rippling beneath his ebony skin. The least memory of Bobby Lee brought 
goosebumps to Maisie's flesh, and she felt her nipples begin to stiffen. 

Bobby Lee had been a natural rebel, what the white folks of Brown Country 
would naturally consider an "uppity nigra." He had strongly believed in 
equal rights, and-even more daring-he had spoken out for the cause here in 
the heart of the Deep South. Public protests were the next logical step, and 
even here he had led the way, unfrightened by the police harassment and 
numerous threats against him. 

Maisie moaned softly to herself and shivered as she thought of Bobby Lee. 
They had met in high school-the rural school which Brown County reserved for 
its black children. They dated often, soon going steady, and experimented 
timidly with sex in that magic summer after graduation. Then came college, 
for Maisie, and for Bobby Lee, the civil rights movement. 

Events swept through Maisie's mind now with lightning speed. She had not 
seen Bobby Lee since the Easter recess, keeping in touch through letters and 
by watching his protest marches on television. With summer vacation, Brown 
County drew Maisie like a magnet, back to her home town of Serenity and to 
Bobby Lee Brown. 

The funeral services had sapped most of Maisie's vitality, but even so her 
thoughts of her young absent lover awakened a tremor of desire. Her sadness 
was mingled with a sense of guilt as her nipples stiffened to full erection 
and a warm tingle flared between her full thighs. She struggled to shake off 
the unwelcome desire, deciding that a warm bath might help, and arose from 
the bed to undress. 

Warm thoughts of her murdered lover continued to haunt Maisie as she 
unzipped her black dress and let it fall to the floor around her feet. The 
skimpy white bra and bikini panties stood out starkly against her 
coffee-colored flesh. For a long moment she stared at her semi-nude 
reflection in the full length bedroom mirror, recalling the way Bobby Lee 
had worshipped at her body as if at a holy shrine. The flames of desire 
licked higher in her young pussy, and Maisie pressed her thighs together and 
shivered with a combination of guilt and lust. 

Bobby Lee had been the only lover in Maisie Dixon's nineteen-year-old life, 
and now he was dead! The end had come so suddenly, totally without warning, 
during the happiest and most exciting time of Maisie's life. Of course there 
had been danger in the protest movement, everyone knew that. Brown County 
was in the heart of redneck country, with a cruel racist sheriff and a 
thriving chapter of the Ku Klux Klan. Threats and minor acts of harassment 
against the protestors were routine, but Maisie had never expected such 
violence as had torn apart her life. 

Maisie moved into the little bathroom, turning on the hot water in the tub. 
Her mind flashed back to the events of that fatal afternoon two days before 
as she slowly removed her underclothing. A cool breeze from the open window 
caressed her now naked breasts, but Maisie's thoughts were miles away, in 
the town square before the Serenity courthouse. 

The demonstration had been larger than most. Coming at the end of a 
month-long organizational movement, a mass gathering to register Negro 
voters had drawn large crowds of both blacks and whites. The blacks came to 
listen and learn, while the whites seemed interested only in hurling taunts 
and threats at the marchers. Pot-bellied Sheriff Buck Jackson was there, 
along with his squint-eyed deputy, Tag Watson. Jack Peters was there too, 
"Grand Dragon" of the Brown County Klan, with a select group of his loyal 
followers. Maisie shivered anew as she recalled the klansmen's jeering 
obscenities. 

"Fuckin'niggers, go back to the cotton patch!" 

"Damned spades! Talk about votin' and really want a shot at some white 
women!!" 

"Hey nigger-you had your chocolate milk today??" 

Maisie was repelled by the memory of their blind and ignorant cruelty. A 
chill of latent fear seized her as she slid her thumbs into the elastic 
waistband of her bikini panties. Slowly she peeled the flimsy material down 
over her gently swelling hips and the firm round cheeks of her buttocks. The 
pan- ties smoothly descended the silken columns of her thighs and on down 
her long legs, until she could step out of them and kick them aside. 

The bathtub was filling rapidly now, and Maisie murmured in satisfaction as 
she tested the water with her toes, finding it to be just the right warmth. 
Slowly, gingerly, she stepped into the steaming tub and settled back into 
the hot, relaxing bath. The water smarted on her tender flesh at first, but 
in a moment she became accustomed to the temperature, savoring the warm 
current as it caressed her aching loins. 

Maisie's memory was drawn back irresistibly to that day in the town square 
at Serenity. After what seemed an eternity of taunts and shouted 
obscenities, violence flared on the fringe of the crowd. Someone-black or 
white-threw a punch, and general fighting exploded in the square. A gang of 
klansmen threw punches at Negroes all around them, and Sheriff Jackson and 
his deputy waded into the crowd, flailing at black heads with their cruel 
nightsticks. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Bobby Lee was beside her, encircling her with his 
arms as he led her through the riot to safety. Blocks away and safe once 
more, they jumped into Bobby Lee's old station wagon and put Serenity behind 
them. 

Dusk was falling as they drove on into the countryside, Maisie pressing 
close against Bobby Lee on the front seat of the station wagon. Bobby Lee 
was furious, raging against the town, the sheriff and the klansmen in his 
frustration and anger. Finally, miles from the little cabin they were 
sharing for the summer, he pulled the car into a secluded country lane and 
shut off the engine. 

He pulled Maisie into his arms, close to tears and badly in need of comfort. 
Instinctively she knew how to soothe her man's injured pride. She came to 
him willingly, trembling with anticipation as his hands sought and found the 
warm mounds of her breasts. 

Reclining in the hot bath, Maisie Dixon felt the old desire flare up anew in 
her loins. A warm moistness which had nothing to do with the bath was 
spreading through her young pussy, and her full hips began a slow rotation 
against the bottom of the tub. Slowly, almost unconsciously, she brought the 
fingertips of one hand up to the nipple of her left breast while the other 
hand strayed idly downward, across her smooth flat belly. 

Maisie's recollection of that lethal night continued. Bobby Lee had 
undressed her slowly, murmuring his love as he slowly peeled the bright 
print blouse from her smooth shoulders. His warm lips and tongue traced wet 
patterns along the hollow of her throat as he fumbled briefly with the hooks 
which held her bra in place. And then she was naked to the waist, her 
mounding breasts bare in the moonlight filtering in through the windshield. 

Bobby Lee's questing mouth moved along the round curve of one breast to 
capture her stiffening nipple. He held the little bud gently between his 
teeth and teased it with the tip of his tongue until Maisie groaned and 
writhed her buttocks against the car seat in passion. His hungry mouth moved 
on to the other straining breast, while his warm fingers slid along the 
inside of her thigh, searching for her panty-covered pussy mound. The light 
stroking of his masculine fingers against the thin nylon covering her crotch 
touched off a raging inferno of lust in Maisie's palpitating young cunt. 

Remembering their last night together, Maisie Dixon slowly surrendered to 
the growing demands of her yearning body. Her left hand began a more 
forceful tugging at her tingling nipple bud, while the fingers of her other 
hand crept into the wet forest of her pussy hair. One extended finger parted 
the upper flanges of her cuntal lips and made searing contact with the 
blossoming bud of her clitoris. The electric shock of pure erotic sensation 
brought Maisie momentarily back to reality. 

Oh God! she wailed inwardly, I mustn't do this! Not today, of all days!! 
It's so wrong!! 

But Maisie's memory of her last night with young Bobby Lee Brown was too 
strong, too lifelike. It swept her along involuntarily into a dreamlike 
state, trance-like in her erotic reverie. As her mind traveled into the 
past, her fingers continued their gentle manipulation of her pussy lips. 

She could clearly picture Bobby Lee as he had been that night, looming above 
her as she reclined on the front seat of the station wagon. His eyes were 
bright with lust and his teeth shone brightly in his dark face as he 
surveyed her partial nakedness displayed before him. Her short skirt had 
ridden up around her hips, and his hands slid under it now, eager fingers 
curling into the waistband of her panties. The flimsy garment yielded 
easily, slipping over her hips with a swishing sound as she raised her 
buttocks from the seat to accommodate him. 

A growl of uncontrolled lust escaped Bobby Lee's lips as Maisie's moist cunt 
was bared to his gaze. He flung the crumpled panties aside as he eyed the 
erotic beads of moisture clinging to the mahogany beauty's curling pubic 
hair. With one finger, he tantalizingly traced the lips of her cunt, evoking 
a moan of frustration from the young girl's panting lips. He flicked 
teasingly at her clitoris, then took her by surprise, thrusting his index 
finger deep into the channel of her wet pussy. Taken totally unawares, 
Maisie arched her nubile body up from the seat cushions as a searing wave of 
agonizing pleasure swept her frame. 

Undulating slowly in her hot bath, Maisie seemed to be reenacting her last 
night with Bobby Lee Brown. Guilt feelings were cast aside now, as her 
erotic fantasies spurred her questing fingers to bolder explorations of her 
trembling cunt. Oh Bobby Lee, her mind cried out as a first experimental 
finger slipped into the tight, grasping entrance of her vagina. 

Eyes closed tightly, Maisie could see her lost lover as clearly as if he 
were alive and there before her in the bathtub. Straining her lust-ringing 
ears, she imagined she could hear the harsh rasp of his zipper that night, 
as he peeled his trousers away from his loins to reveal his jutting manhood. 
Bobby Lee's cock had terrified Maisie at first, an imposing pillar of 
blood-gorged male flesh which she only gradually came to accept as an 
instrument of pleasure instead of pain. 

And how she had longed for his cock that night! It riveted her gaze as it 
stood out from his curly bush of wiry pubic hair, long and stout, the head 
flaring like that of an enraged cobra. A single milky drop of cum glistened 
at the tip of his glans, accentuating the deep vertical slit from which his 
hot jism would soon spurt forth. -' 

Bobby Lee had watched her writhe beneath him, her body silently begging for 
the release she craved. He gave a throaty chuckle of desire, gloating at his 
power over her as he lightly stroked his cock into even greater erection. 

"What you want, woman?" he teased, giving Maisie a lecherous grin, "You want 
this?" He thrust his hips forward, his massive penis hovering over her nude 
torso like a magician's magic wand. 

"Please, Bobby Lee," she begged, writhing frantically, "For God's sake, fuck 
me now!!" 

He spoke no word of response, but leaned forward, lowering his hips for a 
better angle above her arching pelvis. Guiding his turgid cock with one 
hand, he brought the moist head into searing contact with the tiny mouth of 
her cunt. Maisie moaned audibly, and her body began to twitch uncontrollably 
as Bobby Lee made slow teasing swipes along the length of her pussy with his 
cock head. Her hands sought his hips, fingers curved into claws, desperate 
to imbed his penis in her yearning loins. 

"Oh sweet Jesus, Bobby! Now!! Fuck me now!!!" she wailed, engulfed in the 
sweet agony of sexual anticipation. 

Her ebony lover laughed again, almost cruelly. "Sheeit, girl, you ain't 
ready yet-not by a long shot!" 

Her moan became a cry of desperation as Bobby Lee's hungry mouth fastened 
once more upon the straining nipple of her firm young breast. He was almost 
gnawing her breast flesh now, bringing a gasp of mingled pain and pleasure 
to her lips as his teeth and tongue tormented her. He mouthed her breasts 
for what seemed an eternity, and then she felt his wet lips trailing slowly 
away from her quivering nipple buds, seeking other pastures. He moistened 
the deep valley between her firm tits with tiny, nibbling kisses, sucking 
little mounds of flesh between his teeth to stroke them with his tongue. 
Maisie was almost weeping with pleasure and pent-up desire when his questing 
mouth reached the satiny plain of her stomach. 

Reclining, semi-conscious in the hot bath, Maisie Dixon could almost feel 
her lover's tongue upon her silken flesh. Her sensitive fingers gently 
retraced the erotic path his lips had followed that night, and she trembled 
more violently as her pussy clenched tighter in a sudden spasm. One hand 
continued to massage her belly with feathery strokes, while the other deftly 
parted the moist furrows of her yearning cunt, and ventured timidly inside. 
She could plainly feel the internal tremors ripple through her vaginal flesh 
as her thoughts returned once more to young Bobby Lee Brown and their last 
lustful night together. 

Her lover's lips had paused briefly at her tiny navel, and the hot tip of 
his tongue flicked teasingly inside. She arched her back to offer more, but 
already his sucking mouth had moved on, trailing wetly across her lower 
belly toward the fringes of her pubic hair. Here he paused again, his face 
hovering close above her succulent cunt. She could feel his hot breath on 
the tiny bulge of her clitoris, and she vainly ground her hips upward from 
the seat, seeking contact with his smiling lips and teeth. 

Bobby Lee smiled inwardly at the total rapture displayed by this luscious 
woman arrayed before him. He could plainly see her cuntal lips, flexing 
lightly of their own accord, turning slowly inward in their beckoning need. 
He planted a quick kiss on the fiery bud of Maisie's clit, and watched her 
shiny brown torso twist in a convulsion of frustrated lust. 

And now he began his teasing in earnest. Even now, days later, with Bobby 
Lee dead and in the ground, the lustfully inciting memories were totally 
real to young Maisie Dixon. She was actually reliving her lover's lustful 
caress as she lay in the bathtub, fervently massaging her own aching cunt. 

Bobby Lee had refused to grant her immediate release, however. Placing his 
warm palms on the inside of each of her firm thighs, he slowly spread her 
statuesque legs wide apart. The entire plain of her loins was now open to 
the lustful gaze of Maisie Dixon's young lover. She held her breath, 
straining every muscle and nerve in an effort to control the raging desire 
which swept through her lower body like a forest fire of passion. The cool 
evening breeze which entered the car to lap at the fringes of her hot young 
cunt did nothing to assuage the black girl's rampant lust. 

Staring down her body, between the twin mounds of her full, firm breasts, 
Maisie watched her lover's head dip toward the yawning portal of her 
femininity. But still his lips avoided her dripping honey pot, trailing 
instead along the warm inside of one thigh, almost to the knee and then back 
again to the junction of thigh and hip. Maisie's legs began trembling 
uncontrollably, and she bounced her firm young asscheeks on the car seat, to 
direct Bobby Lee's attention cunt-ward. And yet his mouth passed over her 
steaming box, passing on to torment her other quivering thigh in an 
identical fashion. 

Maisie Dixon felt tears of longing gather beneath her eyelids as she verged 
on sexual despair. And then, without warning, Bobby Lee's hot lips descended 
on her waiting cunt in an avalanche of passion. His fiery tongue made long, 
waggling sweeps along the entire drenching length of her slit, as her body 
arched and twisted completely off the car seat in a paroxysm of fierce 
desire. His long tongue frantically alternated strokes, first sweeping the 
edges of her cuntal lips, then curling to plunge deep within the confines of 
her vagina itself. Maisie was half-delirious with passion when his tongue 
dipped even lower, stabbing with jarring impact at her tiny cringing 
asshole. 

"Oh God no, Bobby Lee! Not there!! Oh nooooo!!" She wailed out her shock and 
surprise in feeble protest. 

Bobby Lee Brown ignored the young woman's pleading, sucking and nibbling at 
her virginal rectum with renewed ardor. After a moment, his hot tongue began 
a frenzied sweeping action between her vibrant rectum and the clasping 
orifice of her cunt, bathing all the sensitive tissue in between. With a 
wail of surrender, Maisie brought her shaking thighs together, clasping them 
around her lover's head. Bobby Lee knew he had her now, and as her curled 
fingers tangled in his kinky hair, he smashed his mouth tight against her 
plundered genitals. He violently inhaled a great mouthful of pussy flesh as 
Maisie began to buck her hips, caught in the throes of approaching orgasm. 

Just short of her climax, Bobby Lee forcefully withdrew from his young 
lover's grasp, rising again to a kneeling position above her. Her eyes met 
his, pleading, as her hips undulated seductively and her fingers twisted at 
her stiff and hardened nipples. 

"Oh please, Bobby Lee," Maisie moaned in supplication. "Puhleese ... I need 
your cock right now!!!" 

"Awright, woman," her bronze lover responded with evident self-satisfaction, 
"Now you ready for some good ole fashioned fuckin'." 

She gratefully babbled her gratitude as Bobby Lee bent lower, levering her 
thighs apart with his knees, spreading wide the furred plain of her crotch. 
The blunt head of his cock pressed tightly against the muscular ring of her 
pussy mouth, and for a split second Maisie experienced the tinge of 
bittersweet pain which she always felt at her lover's forceful entry. She 
fought to relax her pelvic muscles, content in the knowledge that soon her 
pussy would expand to fully accommodate the driving piston of his maleness. 
The blood-gorged cock forced its way one inch into Maisie's clasping love 
tunnel as she ground her young ass into the seat below, weeping with 
ecstasy. 

Alone in her steaming bath, Maisie Dixon was becoming totally engulfed in 
her erotic fantasy. Her fingers were massaging her clitoris urgently now, 
while the other hand tweaked mercilessly at the twin bullets of her excited 
nipples. Her breath came in short gasping spurts through tightly clenched 
white teeth, as her head whipped from side to side in excitement. Her 
physical needs had swallowed up her grief and terror at the knowledge of her 
fantasy's inevitable tragic outcome. 

In her half-waking state, Bobby Lee towered above her, gathering breath and 
bunching his tight muscles for the deep thrust that would impale her on his 
steely cock. And then, suddenly, the quality of the scene changed 
drastically. The unexpected glare of headlights reflected from the sweat on 
Bobby Lee's startled face. And the low hum which had been pushed aside by 
Maisie's sex-maddened consciousness was now the roar of an automobile 
engine, too immediate to ignore. The panting black girl was instinctively 
scrambling for clothing to cover herself when the world fell in around her. 

A man's harsh voice bawled out, "Here it is nigger!!" And the night exploded 
in a series of rapid-fire gunshots. Maisie's scream was lost in the shower 
of glass as Bobby Lee collapsed across her naked torso, his life departing 
in a single wet gasp, his blood trickling across her breasts to stain the 
seat cushions. 

The agony of that fatal night brought fresh tears to Maisie Dixon's eyes, as 
her mental anguish battled for supremacy over the erogenous flame in her 
twisting loins. But the young black girl was too far gone now, too 
desperately in need of sexual fulfillment to be deterred from her sensuous 
vaginal massage. Both hands were cupped to her groin now, plundering fingers 
pinching and kneading her cun-tal flesh toward quivering release. 

Maisie gave no more thought to her present surroundings now as she drove 
relentlessly on toward orgasm. She found the nub of her clitoris with one 
thumb, treating the pleasure button to a brisk rotating massage that sent 
powerful shivers throughout her body. Her legs doubled up as if of their own 
accord, her feet finding purchase on the rim of the tub, pushing to elevate 
her throbbing pussy toward her grinding hands. 

In the back of her swirling mind, Maisie was dimly conscious of a strange 
noise from the front room of the cabin, vaguely noting a sudden breeze which 
plucked at the curtains of the window above her. She dismissed the intrusion 
immediately, single minded now in her drive for total sensual release. 

One firm hand continued to torment her young cunt, three fingers now 
sluicing rapidly in and out of the slippery vaginal channel, while the thumb 
rapidly strummed her erect clitoris. Meanwhile, her other hand raced to and 
fro across her wet curvaceous young abdomen, stroking breasts and thighs, 
lingering upon tightened nipples before plunging down again in a tingling 
sweep across her slick belly. Her ass cheeks clenched and unclenched in 
trembling spasms of pleasure. 

"Oh God, Bobby Lee," she crooned mindlessly to her missing lover. "Oh Jesus, 
Aauughh!!" 

Maisie Dixon felt as if her entire body might burst open at any moment, so 
intense was her sexual longing. In her fevered mind, it was Bobby Lee's long 
cock rather than her own slippery fingers which was pummeling the interior 
walls of her eager pussy. 

In desperation, Maisie slid her free hand along her soapy flank, cupping her 
ass cheek in her warm palm. The smooth tip of her middle finger made sudden 
jolting impact with her tightly crinkled rectum as her ass pumped wildly up 
and down in the tub. Lightly, uncertainly, she probed more forcefully 
against the rubbery ring of her anal sphincter, evoking a white-hot stab of 
mingled pain and pleasure from her asshole. 

Spurred on to even greater efforts of self-stimulation, Maisie pressed the 
exploring finger into the narrow confines of her rectum. The effect was 
jarring. Her entire lower body began to spasm and twist in erotic response 
to the new invasion of her hitherto untouched anal cavity. Maisie had never 
before imagined such intense gratification from such a forbidden internal 
caress. 

Shame peeked weakly into the black girl's consciousness, but was quickly 
washed aside in a renewed wave of passion from the double invasion of her 
cunt and asshole. Feverish digits pumped more rapidly now into both openings 
as the young woman flogged herself along toward the eagerly awaited 
explosion of erotic release. 

Maisie could actually feel her hands, working at their separate tasks, 
through the fine wall of flesh separating her internal passages. Her pulse 
pounded cannonlike in her ears as she threw one leg over the side of the 
tub, spreading her loins for easier access from her pillaging fingers. She 
could feel the sexual tension which precedes orgasm building, like a tight 
knot of frustration at the base of her spine. Madly she pumped her fingers, 
helpless and hopeless in her quest for fulfillment through lurid 
masturbation. 

Staring at the bathroom ceiling through slitted eyelids, Maisie Dixon gasped 
out her frenzied anticipation as her torso heaved wildly, splashing water 
from the tub onto the bathroom floor. 

"Ohhh Goddd!" she wailed. "Jeeessuuss, I can't stand it!! I'm 
cuuummmiinngggt! Aaauuugghh-hh!!!" 

Maisie's entire bronze body arched up from the tub as the bomb of orgasm 
exploded in her groin and sent fiery tendrils through every portion of her 
being. Rivulets of water streamed from her heaving breasts and belly as she 
convulsed, finger-fucking herself to complete climax, wide hips frantically 
pumping in mid-air. One fierce convulsion after another twisted her 
succulent torso within the confines of the bathtub, while she wailed her 
keen pleasure to the deaf walls. Her heels drummed against the porcelain 
tub, and her tiny clit seemed to flower open to emit a white-hot flame of 
satisfaction. 

Finally, after what seemed hours but must have been mere seconds of time, 
Maisie settled back limply into the waters of the tub. Her young breasts 
heaved unevenly as her breath came in ragged gasps of exhaustion. Gingerly 
she withdrew her probing fingers from her smarting rectum and cum-drenched 
young vagina. Her legs and firm thighs were briefly seized by a gentle 
trembling in the aftermath of her tumultuous orgasm. 

And then, with her dazed mind still on the fringes of a sexual never-never 
land, Maisie Dixon was startled back to cruel reality by a new and foreign 
sound. It was, incredibly, the sound of someone applauding! Somebody was 
standing in the open doorway of the bathroom, clapping their hands!! 

Terrified, Maisie snapped her eyes open and faced the source of the sound. 
There in the doorway, regarding her limp nudity with undisguised lust, stood 
not one, but two men. Both were white, and both were in uniform. Maisie knew 
them at once. Nearest the foot of the tub, leering directly into the open 
mouth of her moist young vagina, was potbellied Sheriff Buck Jackson. To 
Jackson's immediate left, paying closer attention to the still- hard nipples 
of her firm breasts, was the sheriffs weasel-eyed deputy, Tag Watson. Maisie 
began to tremble with fright under the piercing gaze of the two country 
lawmen. 

"Ain't that a sight to behold?" the heavy sheriff asked his deputy, before 
spitting a stream of tobacco juice onto the bathroom floor. 

"It appears like any ol' hole will do for this hot little gal," the deputy 
replied with an evil smile. 

"Yeah, I should say that buck Bobby Lee did all right for hisself afore he 
went and got kilt," the sheriffs comment ended in a rumbling laugh. 

Maisie flushed with shame as she realized the two lawmen had witnessed her 
own lewd finger-fucking, and twisted frantically in the bathtub, striving in 
vain to cover her nakedness with her arms. After a moment, the laughter of 
both men ceased, and their faces turned as hard as the weapons on their 
belts. It was the sheriff who next broke the silence. 

"Get yore ass outta that tub, gal," he drawled. "You-all under arrest-for 
the murder of Bobby Lee Brown!" 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Young Maisie Dixon could not believe her ears. "Wha ... what did you say?" 
she stammered weakly, "You ... you must be insane!" 

"None of yore sass, nigger!" snapped Sheriff Buck Jackson. "You are under 
arrest, so you best haul your black ass outta that bath afore we do it for 
ya." 

At that, Deputy Tag Watson took a menacing pace forward, his lecherous grin 
expanding from ear to ear. Maisie could stand no more, and decided meekly to 
submit to the arrest, rather than provoke these cruel men to further 
outrages. 

"PI... please? A towel?" she begged as she stood up in the tub, warm water 
streaming from her barely-covered nude body. She could feel the lawmen's 
cold eyes searching the succulent curves of her body as she struggled vainly 
to hide at least her nipples and her young pussy from their gaze. 

The only towel in the room hung on a rack several feet away, beside the 
sheriff. Deputy Watson reached it first, holding it out to Maisie in a 
mocking display of false chivalry. 

"Here ya go, gal," the deputy chuckled, "you best not catch cold now, hear?" 
He spun the bath towel like a bullfighter's cape and then spread it wide, 
waiting for Maisie to come to him. 

Timidly she turned her back to him as she stepped from the bathtub, feeling 
the men's eyes raking her naked body like invisible hands. She took a shaky 
pace backward, and Tag Watson draped the bath towel across her glistening 
brown shoulders. For one sickening moment the deputy's hands lingered on her 
shoulders, then swept the length of her curvaceous spine to pat lewdly at 
her plump ass cheeks, barely covered by the towel. 

Sheriff Jackson's voice cut through the other lawman's reverie. "Git 
dressed, gal, we all goin' for a ride into town." 

Maisie turned toward the bulky officer, cringing inside the skimpy towel, 
strongly aware that it did more to accentuate than to hide her sensuous 
young body. When she spoke, her voice trembled with rising fear. 

"Sheriff, you know I didn't kill Bobby Lee!" 

"Nigger," the sheriff taunted through clenched teeth, "the Soopreem Court 
says you got the right to remain silent, so shut the fuck up and git dressed 
like I told ya!" 

The venom of his reply halted any further comment from Maisie, and she 
headed shakily for the bedroom to find some clothes. As she passed Tag 
Watson, the deputy's coarse fingers snaked out to quickly caress the barely 
concealed swell of one breast. 

"I'll see she don't slip out the window or sumpin," Watson snickered, 
following Maisie into the little bedroom of the cabin. 

With a false show of gallantry, the deputy swept open the closet door, then 
stood aside as Maisie approached the rack of clothes. She hesitated for one 
moment of indecision, slumping a little in her despair, so that her towel 
dipped slightly to expose one brown nipple. Tag Watson licked his lips 
noisily and drew in a deep breath at the enticing spectacle of her 
glistening breast flesh. 

Noting the deputy's reaction, Maisie quickly straightened her skimpy 
covering, inwardly flushing with renewed embarrassment. 

"Could you ... wait outside while I -... get dressed?" Maisie pleaded 
timidly. 

"Naw," Watson gloated lewdly, "I gotta make i sure you ain't got no 
concealed weapons in here. Jest get; on with your business now, the sheriff 
don't like waitin'." 

Trembling with shame, Maisie Dixon reached into her closet and withdrew a 
hanger holding a skirt and blouse. Laying the clothing on the bed, she 
stepped to the dresser with Watson in closer pursuit. Hugging the bath towel 
against her slippery nude body with one hand, she rummaged in the drawers 
and withdrew a pair of panties and a bra. She was pondering the best way to 
get dressed without totally exposing her body to Tag Watson, when the deputy 
leaned forward and plucked the flimsy bra from her grasp. 

"None of that, now," he advised, absently stroking the transparent material 
with his thick fingers, "prisoners can't take nothin' in the jail they might 
hang theirselves with." Laughing evilly, he tossed the filmy brassiere 
aside. 

Helpless tears gathered beneath Maisie Dixon's long eyelashes, and streamed 
down her brown cheeks. Turning her back to Watson, she struggled to balance 
on one foot while stepping into the pair of bikini panties, but she quickly 
lost her balance. Groping for the dresser to support herself, Maisie lost 
control of the bath towel and it fluttered to the bedroom floor, leaving her 
completely nude before the gaping lawman. She bent quickly to recover the 
towel, but Watson stepped forward, placing his boot on one corner so that 
she could not lift it. 

"That ole thing's jest in yore way, gal," he advised with a lewd wink, "now 
you finish gettin' dolled up, and be quick about it!" 

Sobbing quietly, Maisie hastened to step into the thin panties, fully aware 
that the garment did little to hide the hair-covered mound of her genitals. 
Next she slipped into the brightly patterned silk blouse, buttoning it 
hastily across the rising swell of her taut young breasts. The cool 
afternoon breeze through the window and the friction of her naked breasts 
against the cool silk, caused her nipples to come instantly erect, spiking 
out through the fine material, plainly visible. Lastly, she pulled the skirt 
up the bronze columns of her legs, buttoning it quickly across one rounded 
hip. 

"There's one other little detail," Watson announced, releasing a pair of 
handcuffs from their place on his gun belt. 

"Oh please," Maisie begged, retreating against the wall, "don't lock me up 
in those!" 

Tag Watson ignored her plea. Snaking out one hand, he tangled the fingers in 
Maisie's black hair and wrenched her from the wall, hurling her face down 
onto the bed. Tiger-like he sprang upon her, twisting one arm cruelly behind 
her back and snapping the steel cuff around her slender wrist as he 
straddled her hips. The other wrist was quickly cuffed as well, but the 
panting deputy made no move to rise from Maisie's prostrate form. Instead, 
he began to stroke her back through the thin material of her blouse, while 
he ground his crotch against the twin mounds of her firm young ass. She 
could plainly feel the hard shaft of his long cock pummeling the thinly 
clothed furrow of her plump bottom. 

Tag Watson's crude assault was suddenly interrupted by the voice of Sheriff 
Jackson calling from the living room. 

'Tag? Fetch that nigger gal out heah, and let's get a move on!" 

Breathing heavily, Watson reluctantly crawled off of Maisie and brushed a 
few of the wrinkles from his khaki uniform. As he roughly hauled Maisie to 
her feet, she could see the bulge of his erection in the front of Watson's 
uniform trousers. As she tottered unsteadily on her feet, the cruel deputy 
encircled her with his arms and pulled her tight against him, humping his 
hardened cock against the front of her skirt. 

"I ain't done with you yet, gal," Watson threatened, "we gonna be seein' 
each other for a while yet." 

With that, Watson shoved her from the small bedroom and into the living 
room. Sheriff Jackson took over there, manhandling her through the door and 
down the short walk toward his patrol car. He pulled open the rear door and 
roughly shoved Maisie inside into a sitting position, with her cuffed wrists 
twisted painfully behind her. Maisie's fright increased as Deputy Tag Watson 
slid into the seat beside her, wedging her tightly against the opposite door 
of the squad car. Watson let his hand rest idly on her trembling thigh as 
Sheriff Jackson climbed behind the wheel and started the car, pulling out 
onto the dusty highway. 

"Please believe me, Sheriff," Maisie Dixon began timidly, "you must know I 
couldn't have killed Bobby Lee! We were ..." 

Jackson's harsh voice cut her off cold. "I done told you once to shut ya 
mouth. Ifn I haveta tell you again you gonna be spittin' teeth!" 

Tag Watson snickered softly while his rough fingers stroked the inside of 
Maisie's warm young thigh. Her cramped position in the squad car had hiked 
the hem of her short skirt almost to her hips, nearly exposing the thin 
crotchband of her flimsy panties. She wriggled on the seat, striving to 
cover her crotch and thighs, but with her hands bound behind her the effort 
served only to further expose her loins. The lecherous deputy stared at her 
near-naked groin with undisguised lust. 

Turning to avoid Tag Watson's gaze, Maisie watched the Southern countryside 
unroll beyond the window of the sheriffs car. The sun had dipped below the 
tops of the tall cypress trees, and long streamers of Spanish moss cast 
ghostly shadows across the narrow country road. Suddenly, the young black 
girl was snapped back to reality by an alien touch along the swell of her 
right breast. 

Deputy Tag Watson was tracing the bright flowered design of Maisye's blouse 
with his index finger, leering indecently. He poked roughly at the center of 
one print flower, watching her supple young breast wobble in lewd reaction 
to his probing. 

That sure is a pretty blouse you got there," the lawman leered as his 
caressing palm captured the full orb of her tit, "Nice material, too!" 

Maisie Dixon felt her budding nipple stiffen involuntarily under the 
deputy's manipulations, and she flushed with shame at the uncontrollable 
reaction. Oh God, no, she thought, I can't respond to this redneck's crude 
advances!! As if he could read her thoughts, Tag Watson captured her nipple 
bud through the thin material of her blouse, rolling it slowly between thumb 
and forefinger. Maisie frantically clenched her thighs and ground her white 
teeth together as the manual assault set off unwanted sparks of response 
deep in her belly. Madly, she ground her buttocks into the seat in an effort 
to quench the spreading heat in her loins, but she succeeded only in wedging 
the crotchband of her thin panties tight against the throbbing bud of her 
clitoris. The deputy was not blind to the black girl's growing reaction. 
Still pretending to sample the material of her thin blouse, Watson flicked 
open the top button of the garment, leering over the newly exposed cleavage. 
Maisie looked hopelessly to the sheriff for help, but his lecherous eyes 
regarded her with a combination of lust and hatred from the rear-view 
mirror. She bit her moist lower lip in terror and frustration as Tag 
Watson's fingers plucked at the second button of her blouse. The flimsy 
garment fell open, exposing the bronze mounds of her succulent breasts 
almost to the budding brown nipples. Maisie shivered uncontrollably as the 
lecherous deputy noisily licked his lips. 

"You sure have gro wed up, gal," Watson gloated, eyeing her firm, swelling 
breast flesh. 

Maisie Dixon cringed against the door of the patrol car as Watson's rough 
fingertips began to stroke the satiny swell of her young tit. He flicked one 
side of her blouse away, fully exposing her right breast to his lecherous 
eyes and hands. His coarse palm circled the warm orb in a rough circular 
caress. The crude stimulation provoked an undesired reaction from her 
sensitive young nipple, causing it to blossom outward, bullet-like against 
the deputy's hand. The young black girl shivered violently, and two lone 
tears welled up beneath her eyelids to streak her cheeks. 

"Oh please, leave me alone," Maisie implored, weeping helplessly. 

"Hush up, nigger," the white man hissed, "you wouldn't wanna distract the 
sheriff from his driving would ya?" 

Watson emphasized his order with a cruel twist of Maisie Dixon's tender 
nipple, Her entire supple body arched off the car seat, her mouth yawning in 
a soundless scream. He released her flesh at last, and she collapsed back 
upon the cushion. The pain in her young breast subsided quickly, and was 
replaced by a strange warmth, radiating outward from her throbbing nipple 
bud to engulf her upper torso. Oh God, she asked herself, what are these men 
doing to me?? 

Tag Watson's hand slipped inside her gaping blouse again, and was idly 
massaging her smooth belly, when the sheriffs voice interrupted her reverie. 

"We're here, Tag," the heavy man growled over his shoulder. "Let's check 
this out afore we head on in." 

Maisie now noticed for the first time that the patrol car had stopped. 
Glancing through the window, she could make out little of the terrain in the 
rapidly falling dusk. Tag Watson reached across her chest to open the door, 
his forearm deliberately chafing at her quivering nipples in the process. 
Almost as an afterthought he pulled the front of her blouse together, 
neglecting to fasten the buttons, before shoving her out into the evening 
air. 

Looking about her for the first time in earnest, Maisie Dixon finally 
recognized her surroundings. They were parked in the same country lane where 
she and her lover Bobby Lee Brown had spent their last moments together. She 
wept openly as the memories of that terrible night crowded all other 
thoughts from her mind. After long, trembling moments, Sheriff Jackson's 
voice came to her as if from far away, through a fog. 

"You all reco'nize this spot, don't ya, gal?" 

Maisie nodded silently, her breasts heaving with renewed spasms of weeping. 

"I figgered so," Sheriff Jackson continued. "Them's your tire tracks 'neath 
that ole cypress there." 

Maisie would have collapsed then and there, but Deputy Watson snaked one arm 
around her back, seizing her left breast in his tight grasp. She sagged 
weakly against him as he continued his casual manipulation of her unwilling 
flesh, while the sheriff continued speaking, pretending not to notice. 

"Only one question left now," Sheriff Jackson was saying. "Why'd ya shoot 
your boyfriend?" 

"But I didn't, Sheriff, I swear it!!" Maisie protested hopelessly. She 
twisted ineffectually in Tag Watson's grip, eliciting a lewd chuckle from 
the deputy as her movements ground her breast into his sweaty palm. 

"I figger it was jealousy," the sheriff continued, ignoring Maisie's claim 
of innocence. "OT Bobby Lee was prob'ly gettin' a little leg off n one of 
them hippy white gals workin' for the Movement." He spat the last word out 
like a vile obscenity. 

"I loved Bobby Lee," Maisie insisted, sobbing bitterly, "and he loved me. 
He'd never touch another woman! I know it!!" 

"Shit, gal," Tag Watson chimed in, giggling, "any nigger buck'll pop a white 
woman if n he gets a chance. You know that well as we do!" 

"No, no, Maisie cried hopelessly, "it's not true!" 

"Well, if you innocent, who shot that buck, then?" the sheriff asked, a 
sneer in his voice. 

"Some . .. someone who . . . hates the movement," Maisie stammered wetly, 
"may maybe the Klan." 

She felt Tag Watson stiffen at mention of the dreaded Ku Klux Klan, and 
Sheriff Jackson's brow furrowed into an angry glare. 

"I've taken all the shit I'm gonna take from you, nigger," the sheriff 
roared. "You goin' to jail right now!" 

Tag Watson twisted her roughly about, cruelly pinching her breast in the 
process, and pushed her back into the squad car, crawling in beside her. The 
sheriff was clearly furious. He swerved back onto the main highway at top 
speed, the rear tires spitting gravel as they dug for traction. Even the 
lecherous deputy seemed sullen, sitting in silence, with his hand motionless 
on the black girl's trembling thigh. 

Twenty minutes later the patrol car pulled into Serenity, county seat of 
Brown County. The sky was almost dark now, and dim streetlights lit the 
nearly empty main avenue of the small town. No one was moving on the 
sidewalks except an old black shoeshine man, trudging home from the 
barbershop at the end of a long day's work. He glanced quickly at the 
passing squad car, then hurriedly turned his eyes away. 

Sheriff Jackson pulled the car to a stop in the alley behind the jail, and 
left the engine idling. He turned in the seat and spoke to his squint-eyed 
deputy as they sat in lowering darkness. 

"Tag, you gwan and book this bitch," Jackson ordered. "I gotta check out a 
report that some niggers have got a freedom rally goin' over at the Mt. Zion 
church, then I'm goin' home for supper." 

"Right chief," Watson responded eagerly, "I kin handle ever'thing jest fine. 
'Night, now." 

The deputy crawled from the patrol car, dragging Maisie Dixon roughly after 
him. As the sheriff pulled away into the night, Watson shoved her up the 
short flight of steps to the jail door, and through it into the brightly lit 
interior. Inside, he guided her to a long wooden bar which divided the room, 
behind which stood a balding white man with a thick moustache. The name 
plate on his breast pocket identified him as Hank Jeeters, the head jailer. 

"Evenin', Tag," Jeeters called out cheerily, "what you got there?" 

"Damn nigger agitator," Watson responded coldly, shoving Maisie so that she 
bumped against the counter. "Sheriff wants her booked for the murder of a 
nigger buck named Bobby Lee Brown." 

Jeeter sniggered at that, and Maisie thought she detected a silent signal 
passing between the two men. Jeeters tuned his full attention to her now, 
running his eyes slowly over the lush curves of her young body. Glancing 
down, Maisie noticed that her thin blouse had never been rebuttoned, and the 
inner swell of both full breasts was clearly visible when the material 
gapped open. She hunched her shoulders in an effort to close the garment, 
but succeeded only in causing it to fall even further open, baring her 
breasts almost to the dark areolas of her nipples. Hank Jeeters chuckled 
delightedly as he walked quickly around the end of the counter. 

"Right this way, gal," he ordered, leering at Maisie's exposed cleavage. 

Hank Jeeters roughly seized one of the black girl's arms, while Tag Watson 
grabbed the other. Together, they half carried her down the jail corridor, 
twisting her arms just enough to make her arch her back and shoulders, 
thereby further spreading the opening of her blouse. Both men stared openly 
at the firm swelling mounds of her brown breasts as they hustled her along 
the hallway. Jeeters was giggling and licking his lips by the time they 
passed through a swinging door marked INSPECTIONS AND SHOWERS. 

Tag Watson touched a switch and the darkened room was suddenly as bright as 
day. Maisie found herself in an all-white room with walls and floor of tile. 
Along one wall were a row of shower stalls, and by the other a doctor's 
examining table and a cabinet of glittering instruments. Maisie began to 
tremble as the two officers grinned broadly and advanced toward her. 

"Shuck off them clothes, gal," Jeeters ordered, "it's time for inspection!" 

"Wha ... what ... what do you mean?" Maisie asked, unwilling to believe she 
had heard the man correctly. 

"Ever' pris'ner has to be examined and showered," the cruel jailer sneered, 
his voice dripping with lust. "It's the law." 

"Please... please," the young girl implored, "just leave me alone ..." 

"You got your orders, bitch," Watson snapped bitterly, "now strip yourself 
down, or we'll rip them skimpy duds offa yore ass right now!" 

Both men took a menacing step forward, and Maisie backed away, holding up 
palms in supplication. 

"No .. . no," she begged, "I'll do it myself." 

"That's better," Watson snapped, slouching against the wall with the obvious 
intention of watching her disrobe. Sobbing raggedly, she fumbled with the 
last two buttons of her wrinkled blouse, turning away from the men in a 
final effort to preserve some vestige of modesty. Maisie Dixon shrugged out 
of the silk blouse and let it fall, naked to the waist now in the presence 
of the gloating lawmen. 

The young girl felt the men's eyes boring into her nude back as she bent to 
unfasten the waistband of her skirt. Soon the skimpy garment fluttered to 
the floor about her feet and she stood exposed, clad only in the skimpy 
nothingness of her bikini panties. She hooked her thumbs into the elastic 
waistband of the panties, hesitating once more before exposing herself 
totally to the lecherous gaze of the two white men. 

"Every stitch, nigger," Watson ordered, his cruel voice rising almost to a 
shout. 

Slowly, reluctantly, Maisie began peeling the last remnant of protection 
from her curvaceous young form. The material hissed lightly as it slipped 
down over her hips and the curving cheeks of her full firm ass. Watson and 
Jeeters caught a glimpse of pubic hair as the black girl raised one leg to 
step out of the tiny garment, and the jailer whistled softly to himself. 

Maisie Dixon stood in the white room, her head lowered in shame and 
embarrassment, as the two men circled her slowly, scrutinizing her nudity. 
Suddenly, without a word or signal of warning, she was seized by both arms 
and lifted bodily from the floor as they rushed her backward to the padded 
examination table. They dropped her roughly upon the table on her back, and 
pinned her arms to her sides with brute force. Both men licked their lips as 
they surveyed the luscious nakedness spread before them. 

"It's time for that examination, wench," Jetters sneered. "You gonna spread 
your legs, or do I gotta cuff your ankles to the table?" 

Maisie hesitated for a long moment, and then the men each grasped one of her 
knees, wrenching her full thighs wide apart and exposing the full expanse of 
her pubis to their searching eyes. Both men stared at her undulating form 
for several moments before jailer Hank Jeeters again broke the tense 
silence. 

"It's my sworn duty to see that no prisoner smuggles any contraband into 
this jail on their persons," Jetters growled. "Or should I say in their 
persons?" 

Both men laughed uproariously as Jeeters placed his hand on Maisie Dixon's 
satiny smooth stomach. The rough fingers began to slide ever downward, 
across the fluttering flesh of her belly toward the heaving mound of her 
succulent young cunt. The black girl struggled feebly against the coming 
manual assault, but the lawmen had her arms and legs pinioned against the 
examination table. Her lower torso heaved spasmodically as Jeeters' 
fingertips entered the triangular forest of her pubic hair, seeking to part 
the tender petals of her pussy lips. 

"One time I seen a nigger gal tryin' to hide a straight razor up her 
snatch," Jeeters commented, his fingers continuing to rummage in Maisie's 
trembling crotch. 

The black girl's entire torso was seized with trembling as the jailer's 
coarse fingers made jarring contact with her tiny clitoris. She twisted her 
hips from side to side and frantically ground her buttocks against the table 
in a vain effort to escape the humiliating assault. She sought to clench her 
pussy shut against the impending invasion, but she could find no purchase 
for her widely-splayed legs. 

"Hold her still now, Tag," the lecherous jailer commanded, "I've got to 
check this out up close!" 

With that, the balding jailer shifted positions, leaving Watson to pin 
Maisie's shoulders as he stepped nearer the foot of the table. Placing a 
hand on each of the black girl's trembling hips, Jeeters bent down, bringing 
his face close to the furred mound of her genitals. Maisie could feel his 
hot breath washing over her tender cuntal flesh. Jeeters trailed his 
fingertips over the lips of her pussy, then hooked his thumbs into the 
flanges of her love box and pulled the lips apart. Maisie was seized by 
uncontrollable trembling as Jeeters stared directly into the opening of her 
narrow vagina. Holding her cunt lips apart with the splayed fingers of one 
hand, Jeeters suddenly rammed two fingers of his other hand deep into Maisie 
Dixon's moist vagina. 

The young black girl's body convulsed as if it were electrified. Jeeters' 
fingers began rotating violently inside the narrow confines of Maisie's 
cunt, causing the internal cuntal walls to react in spasms of pain. It felt 
as if the sadistic prison guard was scouring her delicate insides with steel 
wool. Pain racked her lower torso as Hank Jeeters brutally probed ever 
deeper into hef yielding vaginal cavity. 

"Go to it, Hank!" Tag Watson whooped, "this black cunt loves a good stiff 
finger!" 

Maisie was mortified at the memory of how the sheriff and his oafish deputy 
had witnessed her own lascivious finger-fucking in the bathroom of the 
cabin. They must feel justified in doing any thing to her after that obscene 
display of forbidden self-abuse. Perhaps she had really brought this upon 
herself. Oh God, could this be her punishment for indulging her own carnal 
desires on the very day of her young lovers funeral?? 

In so thinking, Maisie Dixon relaxed the muscles of her body, submitting 
meekly to the manual rape of her throbbing loins. Ever so slowly, she could 
feel the walls of her young cunt dilate to accommodate Hank Jeeters' reaming 
digits. She was shocked and mortified when the first sparks of awakening 
desire flamed in her plundered loins. Her pussy lips began to swell 
slightly, and her tiny clitoris felt ready to burst as it blossomed into 
sudden unwelcome erection. 

Oh no, Maisie thought bitterly, as a warm, liquid sensation spread slowly 
outward from her violated pussy, I simply can't let myself become aroused by 
this evil man! And yet she seemed unable to control her own physical 
reactions and desires, as Hank Jeeters tirelessly fucked his coarse fingers 
into her moistening young cunt. 

Suddenly, the jailer's broad thumb brushed directly across Maisie Dixon's 
hardening little clitoris. Both of the black girl's knees jerked 
spasmodically into the air, and an uncontrolled groan of response ripped 
from between her tightly clenched teeth. Her smooth brown belly convulsed 
violently, and her firm young hips began to undulate involuntarily, 
elevating her wet cunt to allow the white man's plundering fingers easier 
access. Her plump young ass was pumping in rhythm now, as she allowed her 
sexual needs to take precedence over her shame, and began fucking back 
against Jeeters' driving hand. 

"Jesus Christ, Hank!" Deputy Tag Watson crowed triumphantly, "you're gettin' 
to her now boy! Looka that ass humpin' at ya!!" 

Maisie flushed with shame at the realization of her complete submission to 
her cruel captors, but by now her need for sexual fulfillment eclipsed all 
other thoughts and needs. She arched her back violently, her erect nipples 
spiking toward the ceiling like twin peaks. 

"Let's see how she likes this, then," the sadistic jailer grated in 
response. 

With that, Hank Jeeters brought his other hand into play, suddenly ramming 
his middle finger deep into Maisie's unyielding rectum. Her moan of pleasure 
was abruptly cut off by a squeal of pain, as she frantically twisted her 
hips in an effort to escape the agonizing new invasion. It felt as if a 
red-hot poker had been unceremoniously thrust into her virginal little 
asshole. She dimly heard the jailer's evil laugh as her supple torso writhed 
on the narrow examination table. The double invasion of her inflamed loins 
was more than young Maisie Dixon could stand. 

Hank Jeeters was giggling insanely now as he reamed his fingers in and out 
of the black girl's unprotected cunt and rectum". Suddenly, Tag Watson 
leaned over her shoulder and fastened his teeth upon the erect nipple of one 
taut breast. He gnawed on the tender breast flesh avidly, circling the 
aureole of her nipple with his rough tongue all the while. This oral assault 
upon her throbbing nipple was the final straw for young Maisie Dixon. The 
final traces of her self control vanished as the multiple assaults set off a 
chain reaction of involuntary lust within her shivering hot torso. 
Simultaneous stimulation at the three sources of erotic arousal had ignited 
a flame of desire within the black girl's loins which could be quenched only 
by the total release of orgasm. Mindlessly she drove herself on, toward the 
bliss of total sexual release. She could feel the knot of pre-orgasmic 
tension gathering in the cleft between her tight buttocks and climbing 
slowly up the pillar of her spine. 

"Oh my God!" the black girl wailed, her lean body tossing like a runaway 
gyroscope, "I... I... I'm CCCOOOMMMIIINNNGGG!!!" 

Maisie Dixon's entire mind and body seemed to melt as an orgasmic tidal wave 
washed over her young body. Beads of perspiration glistened on her taut form 
as she churned in the final throes of total sensual release. The examination 
room swam before her fevered eyes, and a loud ringing in her ears eclipsed 
the labored breathing of the men who hunched over her, assaulting her naked 
body. After seemingly endless moments she collapsed in limp exhaustion, her 
round breasts heaving as she sucked great mouthfulls of air into her 
tortured lungs. 

Tag Watson straightened up slowly, wiping his lips with the back of his hand 
and breathing heavily with barely-suppressed excitement. Jailer Hank Jeeters 
slowly withdrew his thick fingers from Maisie's tortured cunt and rectum, 
making a small wet plopping sound as her pussy lips slapped gently together. 

"Keep an eye on the door, Tag," Jeeters croaked hoarsely as he stood erect. 
"I'm gonna give this gal a taste of the real thing!" 

The full import of the jailer's comment did not sink in with Maisie until 
she heard the harsh rasp of his zipper being rapidly lowered. Maisie sat up 
weakly, propping herself shakily on one elbow and glanced down the length of 
her own sweat-soaked body to where the jailer stood, now minus the khaki 
trousers of his uniform. The examination table shifted slightly on its 
foundation as Jeeters crawled upon it, to crouch on all fours between the 
black girl's widely splayed legs. 

"Wha . .. what are you .. . doing?" Maisie stammered, her brown eyes 
widening in terror. 

"You're used to a blacksnake, gal," Jeeters sneered from his vantage point 
between her thighs. "It's about time you found out how a white man rides!" 

Tag Watson's cruel laugh from the direction of the doorway emphasized Maisie 
Dixon's seemingly hopeless position. She struggled to sit upright as she 
sought to reason with the lecherous jail attendant. 

"You . . . you can't... can't get away with this," the black girl 
remonstrated, "I'll ... I'll tell the sheriff if you don't leave me alone!" 

Hank Jeeter's only response was a stunning backhand blow to Maisie's cheek, 
knocking her flat on her back and leaving her stunned. 

"You'll tell the sheriff nothin', you licorice stick bitch!" Jeeters rasped 
angrily. "We are the law in Brown County!" 

Before Maisie Dixon could assimilate this latest statement, the lustful 
officer was upon her. He pinned her shoulder to the examination table with 
one strong hand as he knelt between her thighs, opening his shorts with the 
other hand. Maisie gasped in mingled horror and amazement at the dimensions 
of his revealed penis. It was short in comparison to Bobby Lee's-something 
less than six inches long-but it was more than two full inches in diameter. 
The young black girl cringed at the prospect of receiving that massive pole 
of blood-gorged male flesh in the narrow confines of her tender cunt. She 
simply couldn't take it all!! 

Hank Jeeters roughly seized one of Maisie's soft breasts, all the while 
massaging his massive erection with his other hand. Before the terrified 
girl's eyes, he slowly rolled back the foreskin, exposing the blunt purple 
tip of his cock to her terrified gaze. A thick drop of viscous cum drooled 
slowly from the slit in that broad cock head, and dropped, glistening into 
Maisie's curly black pubic hair. 

Releasing her throbbing breast, Jeeters lowered his hand to the trembling 
girl's crotch, roughly fondling the pussy lips which his coarse digits had 
pierced only moments before. His broad thumb briefly strummed the 
ultrasensitive bud of Maisie's clit, and the Negro girl drummed her heels 
against the examination table as she fought to maintain some vestige of 
self-control. Suddenly, without further preliminaries, Jeeters lunged 
forward with his hips, driving the full pillar of his pounding cock into the 
unprepared little channel of her cunt. 

The searing intrusion of the jailer's bulky penis wracked Maisie Dixon's 
lower body with burning spasms of pain. For long moments she was unable even 
to struggle, as Hank Jeeters repeatedly slammed his pelvis against her 
yawning crotch. Her delicate insides were on fire as the pole of his 
erection skewered in and out of her clasping love tunnel. His heavy 
testicles swung like a fleshy pendulum, smacking loudly against Maisie's 
constricted asshole with every thrust. The rhythm of his cruel rape ground 
the full cheeks of her young ass against the padding of the examination 
table. 

Jeeters craned forward across the young black girl's heaving torso, and 
captured the rubbery tip of one round breast between his teeth. His tongue 
swirled rapidly around the crinkly aureole of her growing nipple as he 
continued to pound her aching cunt flesh with his bulky cock. Her frantic 
squirming served only to further inflame the sadistic jailer's evil lust. 

The new double assault upon her writhing young torso suddenly ignited a new 
spark of forbidden pleasure deep within Maisie Dixon's loins. She 
frantically twisted her hips in a vain effort to quench the spreading fire 
of lust, humiliated by her involuntary sexual response to this cruel rapist. 
Ok no, she cried inwardly, I simply can't enjoy this brutal man's abuse of 
my body!! 

Hank Jeeters could sense the grudging reaction of the ripe female body 
beneath him, as she began slowly to fuck back at him with her hips. He 
increased his fucking tempo and grinned broadly as her hips accelerated to 
match his. Suddenly, he hunched backward, withdrawing his penis completely 
from her churning vagina with a wet sucking sound. Maisie's eyes flicked 
open as she felt her yearning cunt abruptly emptied. 

"Oh please ... please ..." Maisie stammered imploringly, "I need ... I need 
..." 

"Tell me, bitch," the sadistic jailer snapped tauntingly, "what do you 
need?" 

Maisie Dixon sobbed hopelessly, her brown hips writhing as she blurted out, 
"Your cock, damnit! I need your cock!!" 

"Awright now!" Jeeters crowed triumphantly, "Here it comes gal!" 

With that, the brutal jailer impaled Maisie with his thick cock once more. 
She released her breath in a gasp of mingled passion and relief as the blunt 
head of his penis battered against the mouth of her cervix, reaming her 
tender insides to a fever pitch of excitement. His heavy pubic bone ground 
against her swollen pussy lips, stimulating the erect little bud of her 
yearning clitoris and driving her relentlessly on toward yet another climax. 
Wave after wave of sensual desire rocked Maisie Dixon's supple body as the 
skyrocket of orgasm hurtled up her twisting spine to explode at the base of 
her skull. Her entire frame vibrated out of control as Maisie surrendered 
totally to the throes of sexual release. 

"GGOODD!! I'M CCCUUUMMMinNNNGGG!!! A A A AUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!" 

The jailer's fucking tempo increased rapidly until the pumping motion of his 
hips became a blur of speed. Suddenly, Jeeters emitted a protracted groan 
and stiffened from head to toe. His buttocks clenched tight into twin knots 
of muscle as the tremor of orgasm shook his stocky body. A thick, viscous 
stream of scalding hot jism erupted from the tip of Jeeters' twitching 
penis, splattering the interior of Maisie's vagina as if with molten lava. 

The jailer quivered over Maisie Dixon's rigid form for a full minute, then 
collapsed upon her, his passion spent. The shamed black girl lay sobbing 
quietly, her spasms of weeping caused her now tender nipple buds to chafe 
against the jailer's hairy chest. Finally, after long moments of agonizing 
silence, Hank Jeeters crawled off of Maisie and reached for his uniform 
trousers on the floor. Glancing weakly to one side, Maisie saw Tag Watson 
standing behind Jeeters, with one hand on the zipper of his pants. 

"Step aside now, Hank," the deputy leered, "and lemme have a shot at that 
dark meat." 

Before Maisie could voice her futile protest, the jailer surprisingly 
intervened. "Tuck it in, Tag," he ordered curtly. "You'll get your turn-when 
the boys get here!" 

"Shit, Hank," the slit-eyed lawman protested with a whine in his voice, "you 
got yours, now let a man have at it!" 

"Watch yer step Tag," Jeeters snapped, Tm still the Grand Dragon in this 
county. I can have your sorry ass in a sling you rile me up!" 

Watson paled immediately, and took a respectful half-step backward, 
nervously licking his dry lips. 

"Okay, Hank, okay," the deputy whined apologetically, "shit, I was only 
foolin' around, fer Chrissakes!" 

"Awright then," Jeeters snapped, still irritable, "get this bitch dressed 
and in the nut cage while I put a call through to the Imperial Wizard." 

With that cryptic order, the jailer was gone, slamming through the swinging 
doors of the shower room and into the corridor beyond. Alone with Deputy Tag 
Watson, young Maisie Dixon dressed herself numbly in the jail uniform he 
tossed at her. She donned the loose-fitting dress in silence, unmindful of 
the deputy's eyes upon her or the crawly flood of male semen dampening her 
inner thighs. Her mind reeled with terror at her newest predicament. 

For Hank Jeeters' last words could mean only one thing. Both the cruel 
jailer and Deputy Watson were members of the dreaded Ku Klux Klan! And even 
now, Jeeters, the "Grand Dragon" of that terrible secret society, had gone 
to summon "the boys." He was calling a meeting of Klansmen at the Brown 
County jail, and young Maisie Dixon was completely at their mercy!! 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Jack Peters drew deeply on his cigar, and exhaled a cloud of blue smoke 
toward the ceiling. His wife, Molly, lay on her side of the bed, her naked 
back turned toward him, unmindful of the fact that she was uncovered to the 
waist. She was breathing slowly, and Jack wondered if she might be asleep 
after their recent bout of lovemaking. Not that she did anything to be tired 
from, Peters thought almost bitterly, the dumb bitch just lays there like a 
lump until I shoot off in her cunt! He always became fiercely angry by 
thoughts of her sexual unresponsiveness, and it came as a relief when the 
phone rang on the nightstand beside the bed. Peters answered it on the 
second ring. 

"Jack... Jack?" the voice in Peters' ear was filled with tense excitement, 
"It's me, Hank." 

"Good evenin', Hank," Jack Peters drawled lazily, "How the hell are ya?" 

"Busy is how I am, Jack," Hank Jeeters replied breathlessly. "We just booked 
a nigger wench for the murder of Bobby Lee Watson." 

"That's real fine news, Hank," Peters chuckled knowingly, "but why tell me?" 

"I thought you'd want a look at this one, Jack," the jailer explained. "It's 
that Dixon gal, the agitator bitch ol' Bobby Lee used to fuck regular." 

"Well, well," Jack Peters commented with growing interest. "You did right by 
callin' me, Hank. Call up the other boys on the action squad and have 'em to 
meet me there as soon as they can!" 

"Right, Jack, right," Jeeters agreed eagerly, "I'll have 'em all here 
waitin' for ya!" 

Jack Peters hung up the telephone and rolled out of bed. His nude wife 
stirred slightly, still without facing him directly. He walked to the closet 
and dressed in angry silence. Only when he was completely clothed did he 
return to the bed, speaking to his wife for the first time. 

"I'll be home in two or three hours," he informed the silent woman coldly. 
"Drag your ass outta that bed and see to it you have supper waiting for me 
when I get here!" Without waiting for a reply, Jack 

Peters stalked from the bedroom and on out of the house, slamming the front 
door furiously behind him. 

With her husband gone at last, Molly Peters emitted a deep sigh of relief, 
her heavy breasts heaving with the effort. She slowly sat up, tossing the 
sheet aside from her naked body and lowering her long legs over the side of 
the bed. Standing up, she walked over to the closet, and stared at her 
reflection in the full length mirror which hung inside the closet door. 

Molly Peters was tall and slim, but with bountiful curves in all the right 
places. Honey-blonde hair framed her oval face and hung to below her satiny 
shoulders. Her large firm breasts stood out proudly from her chest without 
need of a bra, topped with tiny cherrylike nipples. The gentle curve of her 
smooth stomach swelled gently into firm, round hips. The blond triangle of 
her pussy mound was framed between the tapering columns of her tanned 
thighs, and she could clearly make out the pink lips of her tight cunt as 
they peeked through the delicate curling pubic hair. 

Examining her luscious nudity in careful detail, Molly was certain that the 
difficulties in her marital sex life did not originate with her. She wasn't 
frigid, no matter what Jack might say in his frequent outbursts of anger. 
She simply was no longer able to fake a response to her husband's crude 
sexual advances. 

Jack and Molly Peters had been married nearly four years, and their sex life 
had never been what 

Molly, with her limited experience, would consider outstanding. She had 
loved Jack, however, and she bore with his shortcomings in the hope that 
things would gradually improve. But, over the past two years, things had 
rapidly gone from bad to worse. 

Molly Peters' marital difficulties were controlled, ironically, by the black 
community of Serenity. Just over two years before, the Negro rights movement 
had reached the seat of Brown County, throwing the white establishment into 
an uproar. A local branch of the Ku Klux Klan was organized at a late night 
meeting in the sheriffs office, and Jack Peters, as a prominent local 
businessman, was elected as "Imperial Wizard" by acclamation. So had begun a 
reign of terror in Serenity and Brown County, as the violent Klansmen struck 
out viciously against civil rights protestors and the Negro community in 
general. Sheriff Buck Jackson seemed unable to gather any hard evidence 
while Jack Peterson led his Ku Kluxers on brutal nighttime raids. 

Jack's Klan involvement had done nothing to improve his marital relations. 
Indeed, his interest in sex declined rapidly, and while he never discussed 
his nightly activities, Molly quickly learned that her husband only 
approached her for sex following incidents of racial violence. She suspected 
that Jack was using his Ku Klux connections to work out some perverse 
sadistic impulses through attacks on Negroes. In any case, his sexual 
overtures were even less frequent and satisfactory than ever. This afternoon 
he had approached her for the first time in almost a month, fumbling roughly 
with her breasts before entering her harshly and pumping away to reach his 
own premature orgasm. 

The sour memory of that unsatisfying encounter reminded Molly Peters of her 
unfulfilled sexual longings. Jack's crude assault had served only to ignite 
the first flames of passion in her loins, without bringing her to the 
orgasmic release which she craved. Standing before the full length mirror, 
the tall blonde moaned aloud and cupped a full breast in each of her warm 
palms. The pink nipples came instantly erect under her manual stimulation, 
igniting new sparks of lust deep in her panting young belly. She slid the 
long fingers of one hand tantalizingly down across her silky stomach, to 
stroke teasingly at the swollen lips of her succulent cunt. Molly quivered 
from head to toe as one soft fingertip made tingling contact with the 
blossoming nub of her aching little clitoris. 

Oh God, Molly moaned to herself, I need a cock so badly! It's been so long!! 

As her yearning turned rapidly to even greater frustration, her mind turned 
once more to the parting words of her husband Jack. He had ordered her to 
have dinner ready when he returned, and his recent tendency toward violent 
outbursts made her reluctant to disappoint him. There were no suitable 
groceries in the house, however, and Molly decided to phone the local 
grocery and order some items for the evening meal. Still naked, she 
recrossed the bedroom and picked up the phone from its place on the 
nightstand. 

While dialing the number of Miller's Grocery on Main Street, Molly Peters 
was suddenly struck with a lewd inspiration. Old Charley Miller employed a 
young Negro buck named Joby to make home deliveries in case of telephone 
orders. The black youth was no more than seventeen years old and, while 
somewhat simple-minded, he was well developed physically, over six feet tall 
and very muscular. Perhaps, if Molly played here cards just right, the young 
black stud would be able to assist her with both of her pressing problems! 

As soon as the thought entered her imagination, Molly Peters was seized with 
an immediate spasm of guilt. The very idea of sex between the races was 
intolerable to most Southern whites, and the deliberate seduction of a Negro 
man by a white woman was the most unforgivable crime of all. Her husband or 
any one of his Klansmen would gladly kill her for the course of action she 
was contemplating. And yet, her husband was by now so feared throughout the 
county that no white man would look twice at Molly, and her ever-mounting 
lust continued to go without release. Molly Peters was becoming desperate, 
and so, swallowing the knot of nervous anxiety which had materialized in her 
throat, she completed the call. 

When she had ordered the groceries, and been assured that young Joby would 
make immediate delivery, a nervous Molly Peters hung up the telephone and 
moved back to her bedroom closet. Her trembling fingers plucked her velvet 
robe from its hanger, and she slipped into the garment, its material sliding 
over her soft flesh with a soft hissing sound. The blue robe did not fasten 
in front, but was tied at the waist with a narrow belt, so that it easily 
fell open above and below the waist, exposing the inner swell of Molly's 
breasts and the milky flesh of her thighs. The hem of the soft garment 
barely covered her furred cuntal mound as it hung a full seven inches above 
her knees. 

Molly Peters was sitting in the kitchen and savoring a glass of bourbon for 
courage, when the doorbell chimed. Double-checking the front of her robe, 
the frustrated housewife moved hesitantly to the front door, and slowly 
pulled it open. The young Negro boy, Joby, stood there on Molly's front 
step, his arms full of bagged groceries. After a long moment of silence, the 
woman cleared her throat and parted her lips in what she hoped was a 
seductive smile. 

"Why, hello, Joby," she beamed, "Y'all come this way with those groceries, 
hear?" 

"Yass, Miz Molly," the tall boy answered, following the scantily clad woman 
across the living room and into the kitchen. She swung her hips seductively 
from side to side with each step, hoping that the boy's eyes were following 
her movements. 

Inside the kitchen, Molly Peters turned toward Joby and directed him to 
place the groceries on the counter with a wave of one hand. As she watched 
the boy carefully arrange the grocery bags, the woman leaned back against 
the kitchen table, slumping her shoulders slightly to let her robe gap open 
above the waist. When Joby turned from the sink to face her, his wide eyes 
quickly took in the creamy expanse of breast flesh. The full orbs of her 
tits were now exposed almost to the wide areolas of her pink nipples, and 
Joby's mouth went suddenly dry at the vista of female felsh displayed before 
him. 

"I... I gots to go now, Miz Molly," Joby stammered nervously. "This my las' 
deliv'ry today, an' Mistuh Miller say for me to gwan home aftuh I come 
heah." 

"Now Joby, don't be silly," Molly Peters interrupted, sensing his attack of 
nerves and seeking to put him more at ease, "I already fixed some fresh 
lemonade, special for you since you were nice enough to carry my groceries." 

"I... I jess can't stay, ma'am," Joby began, but he was not allowed to 
finish his feeble protest. 

"I just won't take no for an answer, Joby," Molly insisted, taking him 
forcefully by one arm and guiding him to a chair at the dining table. "My, 
my, you certainly are a strong boy!" she beamed, stroking his hard bicep for 
a long moment before moving to the refrigerator to get the lemonade. 

The lecherous white housewife was conscious of Joby's frightened eyes 
following her sinewy motions as she prepared the cold drinks. She stretched 
more than was necessary, hoisting the hem of her soft robe up to the lower 
curve of her firm round buttocks. She smiled to herself as the movement was 
rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from the black boy at the kitchen 
table. Filling the two tall glasses to the brim with lemonade, Molly 
returned to the table and her reluctant guest. As she set the glasses before 
Joby she deliberately bent forward, allowing him a lingering glimpse of one 
breast in full profile as her robe fell farther open. When she looked up, 
she found beads of perspiration on the black boy's brow, and saw the whites 
showing all around the pupils of his widened eyes. 

"You surely are a handsome boy," the woman cooed, as she slid into a seat 
beside him, her bare knee brushing against his. "I just bet you got a dozen 
girlfriends right here in Serenity." 

"No ... no, ma'am," Joby stammered lamely. 

"I can't believe that, Jody," Molly simpered, feigning amazement. "A 
handsome boy like you? What girl could resist you?" 

Joby did not answer, sitting in abject embarrassment, his eyes downcast and 
staring at the tabletop. He jerked like a puppet on a string when Molly 
Peters extended her fingers and lightly stroked the back of his hand. 
Looking up, his eyes took in first her radiant smile, and then dropped to 
the gaping front of her blue velvet robe. Molly had surreptitiously pulled 
the garment farther open, fully exposing the rosy pink tip of her left 
breast. Molly could sense Joby's eyes traveling over her naked flesh as if 
it was a physical caress. She shivered slightly as her tiny nipple began to 
stiffen and expand noticeably. Joby, too, noticed the transformation of her 
breast flesh, and nervously licked his dry lips as he squirmed in his chair. 
, "PI... please, ma'am," young Joby stuttered in an agony of mingled fear 
and frustration, "please cover yourself..." 

Molly Peters glanced down at her naked breast, and her eyes with wide with 
feigned innocence as they returned to the black boy's face. 

"What's wrong, Joby?" she asked sweetly, "Don't you like what you see?" 

"You awful purty, ma'am, but... but..." Joby spluttered and cast his eyes 
down again, unable to continue. 

"But what, Joby?" Molly prodded, making no move to cover her swelling 
breast. 

"You and me, ma'am, we different," he paused, then feeling his statement 
needed more explanation, added, "It ain't right for me to be with no white 
lady." 

Molly Peters exhaled slowly. The black boy might be simple-minded, she 
thought, but he was clearly well trained in the system of Southern 
tradition. It might be difficult to overcome his initial fear, but Molly was 
determined now to satisfy her own sensual needs. 

"It's alright, Joby, really," she said gently, breaking into an impish smile 
as her fingers lightly stroked the boy's dark forearm. "I wouldn't hurt a 
big, strong boy like you!" 

"You funnin' me, Miz Molly," the boy replied glumly, "I knows your husban'. 
He the head of the ku kluckers." 

Molly Peters smiled at the boy's mispronunciation of the dreaded name, but 
recognized his very real and well-founded fear. She realized that the time 
had come for a more forceful approach. 

"You got nothing' to fear from my husband, Joby," she assured him, then 
broke into a sly smile as she added, "unless he hears that you tried to 
trifle with me!" 

Joby came bolt upright in the chair, his wide eyes now pools of stark terror 
as he babbled protestations. "No ma'am! No ma'am!! I not gonna trifle wif 
you, no way!!!" 

"People make mistakes, Joby," she explained coyly, still smiling in apparent 
friendly innocence. "My husband might get the notion that you ..." she let 
the sentence hang unfinished. 

Joby was quivering with fear as he spoke, blurting out, "Lord God, Miz 
Molly! How he get that idea??" 

"Well, Joby, I might let it slip out accidental like," her soft voice took 
on an edge as she finished, "if you don't do like I say and make me happy!" 

Joby still seemed somewhat confused, but Molly Peters could detect a light 
of dawning realization his eyes as he sat and regarded her in silence. After 
a long moment, he asked timidly, "What you want me to do, ma'am?" 

Molly spoke no word of response, instead allowing actions to speak for her 
as she reached forward and captured one of Joby's black hands in her two 
white ones. For a full moment she stared at that hand, idly stroking the 
warm flesh of the trembling fingers. Then, leaning forward, she brought 
Joby's hand up to cup her naked breast. Joby sucked in his breath and sought 
to pull away, but she held him fast with fierce strength against her 
straining tit. Molly Peters heaved a deep sigh as the warm touch of male 
flesh against her own launched a lewd quiver down the length of her spine. 
She arched her back lasciviously, grinding her hardened nipple roughly 
against Joby's callused palm. 

"Please, Miz Molly," the frightened Negro implored, "Doan do this! We gwan 
be in bad trouble ifn you don't lemme go home right now!!" 

"You hush up, Joby!" she snapped angrily. "You gonna do ever'thing I say, or 
I'm bound to tell my husband and his friends you tried it anyhow!!" Joby 
rolled his eyes wildly, and Molly spoke more calmly, seeking to soothe his 
tense nerves. "You jus' relax now, Joby an' we'll do fine. I promise you'll 
enjoy yourself real well!" 

She rose to her feet before the trembling Negro, releasing his hand for the 
moment as her own fingers went to the sash of her blue velvet robe. One 
gentle tug was enough to untie the loose slip-knot, and the robe fell open 
along its full length. Young Joby was scarcely breathing as the flapping 
garment revealed the inner swell of both breasts, along with the creamy 
plane of her billy and the honey-blond fleece barely covering her secret 
genitals. Nothing in his limited experience with teenaged black girls in 
Serenity had prepared him for the sensual vistas now exposed before his 
frightened eyes. 

Molly Peters took a step closer to where Joby sat, rolling her hips smoothly 
as she moved. Her tiny puckered navel was on a direct level with the black 
youth's mouth as he gaped in virtual disbelief. A flick of Molly's shoulders 
brought the edges of the robe away from her erect nipples, baring all of her 
twin breast mounds to Joby's bulging eyes, and the woman threw her head 
back, drawing in deep breaths of excitement she could not restrain. 

"Touch me, Joby," she pleaded, and, when the entreaty brought no response, 
her voice took on a more authoritative ring. "I said touch me! Now!!" 

Timidly at first, the black youth brought up one hand, allowing the dark 
fingertips to trace a pattern on the smooth flesh of Molly Peters' stomach. 
The white woman quivered in a combination of repressed passion and eager 
anticipation of what was yet to come. Emboldened by her obvious response, 
and afraid to disappoint this woman who held his future in her hands, Joby 
let his fingers stray farther afield as he brought his other hand into play. 
His palms slid smoothly upward across her torso, toward the jutting swell of 
her breasts. As his fingertips made their first electrifying contact with 
the underside of her milky-white tits, Molly almost lost her balance. 
Catching at Joby's shoulders for support, she lurched forward, trapping his 
face between the luscious mammary mounds. 

"Oh God, yes, Joby!" she gasped as his lips moved against her flesh, seeking 
oxygen. "That's it! Suck me, Joby!! Suck my nipples!!!" 

Joby remained hesitant, and Molly Peters, lost in her passion now, quickly 
seized the initiative once more. Placing one hand firmly behind the youth's 
head, she used her other hand to guide one scarlet breast-tip between his 
moist lips. His pink tongue came timidly forward, slapping gently against 
the tingling tip of her extended nipple. The result was jarring, sending 
Molly's lithe torso into frenzied gyrations, madly clutching Joby's face 
against her burning breast while her squirming pelvis buffeted his chest. 

Molly's blatant response spurred Joby on, causing him to swirl his tongue 
rapidly around the crinkly aureole of her nipple bud while she shivered 
against him. The impassioned woman sank her fingernails into his shoulders 
while little mewling sounds escaped from her open lips. Joby felt himself 
responding involuntarily to this reverse rape, his strong penis stiffening 
slowly within his denim trousers. Timidly at first, then with more 
self-assurance, the Negro youth brought his hands around to cup the white 
woman's churning buttocks. His big hands lightly followed the swelling 
roundness of Molly Peters' asscheeks, tracing the cleavage of her tight 
bottom with his fingernails. Sensing her victory, Molly Peters almost 
laughed aloud, but the sound was cut short by a renewed sigh of releasing 
sexual tension. 

For long minutes Joby mouthed the full breasts of the lecherous housewife. 
His lips and tongue strayed from one nipple to the other and back again, 
leaving a wet trail of saliva and tender flesh reddened by his nibbling oral 
caress. Bringing up his big hands, the lust-incited delivery boy mashed her 
heavy breasts together, covering both erect nipples with his mouth at the 
same time. His fiery tongue flicked rapidly from one quivering bud to the 
other, swirling in a figure-eight pattern around the twin rubbery 
projectiles. This new double assault upon her breast flesh sent Molly Peters 
into an uncontrolled spasm of trembling desire, as goosepimples erupted over 
her heaving body. At last, unable to contain herself, Molly Peters wrenched 
her breasts away from Joby's sucking lips and stepped back, drawing in great 
lungsful of air as she stood quivering before him. 

With a toss of her shoulders, the impassioned woman shrugged out of her 
robe, standing now in all her naked splendor before the panting delivery 
boy. As Joby's eyes devoured her every move, Molly began to slowly stroke 
her torso with her hands. She cupped her breasts for his gaze, teasing the 
nipples with her thumbs until she felt sure they would explode at any 
moment. Then, running her fingers butterfly-like across her perspiration 
dampened belly until they reached the blonde thatch of her pussy hair. 
Stroking lightly at first, and then more forcefully as her cunt lips 
flowered open receptively. Pulling those pouting nether lips wide apart, 
Molly thrust her hips forward, rotating the pink flanges of her vagina mere 
inches from Joby's sweating face. The delivery boy's breath came in ragged 
gasps as he slowly craned forward, staring into the clasping mouth of her 
succulent pussy. Molly had thrown her head back, eyes clenched tight in 
passion, but they jerked abruptly open at the first hesitant touch of Joby's 
fingers on her hips. She glanced down in time to witness the black boy 
pressing his lips against her eager little cunt. 

Molly Peters' entire body stiffened in a spasm of uncontrolled lust as the 
youth's tongue made burning contact with the head of her little clitoris. 
Frantically she curled her fingers into his kinky hair, pulling his broad 
face tight against her heaving loins. Startled at first by Molly's audacity, 
Joby soon recovered and began to swipe his long tongue tentatively along her 
narrow vaginal slit. His oral attentions drove her on to ever greater peaks 
of carnal stimulation, causing her long legs to tremble so that she felt in 
immediate danger of falling to the floor. She clung madly to her grip on 
Joby's hair as her body twisted and writhed against his tongue, quivering in 
the grip of a pleasure closely akin to agony. 

"Oh God, yes Joby!!" the enraptured woman wailed aloud. "Lick my cunt, just 
like that!! Suck meeeeee!!!" 

Young Joby was initially startled by her loud reaction to his lewd oral 
manipulation, but her obvious acceptance of this new assault spurred him on 
to even more energetic efforts. He flicked at her swollen clitoris with the 
tip of his tongue, then moved on to inhale great mouthfuls of her pussy 
flesh, mauling the tender lips between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. 
The frantic sucking motion applied to her hot little cunt was quickly 
driving Molly Peters into a state of sexual hysteria. Tears of ecstasy 
streaked her pale cheeks as she flung her head from side to side fanning her 
blond hair out about her face in a sensual halo. When he drove his furled 
tongue deep into the very mouth of her little pussy, Molly groaned in an 
agony of desire, feeling as if the top of her head was about to blow off. 
Finally, unable to contain herself, the lust-inflamed housewife wrenched 
Joby's face away from her spasming loins and took a shaky pace backward. Her 
large breasts wobbled freely as she drew in huge breaths, gasping like a 
drowning woman in her throes of passion. 

"Stand up, Joby!" she ordered breathlessly, seizing the boy's hands and 
pulling him to his feet. "Stand up and strip out of those coveralls!" 

Once again, Joby, though obviously inflamed with desire, was fighting an 
internal battle with ingrained fear. Impatient with his hesitation, Molly 
stepped forward, her eager fingers plucking at the shoulder buckles of the 
tall youth's overalls. The loose garment fell away to lay in a wrinkled pile 
around Joby's feet, leaving the black boy dressed only in an undershirt and 
shorts. Molly quickly stripped the shirt from Joby's chest and shoulders, 
then moved closer. Her pendulous breasts swung freely against the hard 
muscles of his belly, her erect nipples tracing tiny patterns on his black 
flesh as she undulated her succulent torso. The delivery boy stared into 
space over the top of Molly's blond hair as she ran her fingers featherlike 
over the rippling muscles of his ebony chest. His breath quickened 
noticeably as her head dipped forward, and her pink tongue made tingling 
contact with his flesh. She briefly teased at Joby's dark brown nipples, 
causing him to quiver with suppressed excitement, then trailed her moist 
tongue downward over the tensed muscles of his flat stomach. 

Dropping to her knees, Molly Peters found her face on the level of Joby's 
groin. She gasped at the sight of his massive erection jutting toward her, 
standing like a tent pole beneath the straining fabric of his shorts. His 
penis lurched spasmodically as she placed her hands gently on the black 
boy's broad hips, stroking his flanks as if he were a prize quarter horse. 
Joby's buttocks tensed and he rocked on the balls of his feet as she hooked 
her fingers into the elastic waistband of his shorts. With a brisk jerk, she 
whipped the shorts down off his hips and along the ebony columns of his 
thickly muscled legs. Joby and Molly gasped simultaneously as the youth's 
massive penis swung free before her for the first time, its broad head 
bobbing mere inches from her startled blue eyes. His heavy balls hung 
beneath the swaying column of his cock like twin wine sacs, bobbing gently 
in rhythm with the movements of his dark torso. A milky teardrop of cum 
fluid glistened at the very tip of his heavily veined member, standing out 
in stark contrast to the blue-black flesh of his penis. 

Molly Peters cupped the youth's heavy scrotum in one palm, fascinated by the 
churning reaction of Joby's balls to this contact with her warm flesh. The 
black boy moaned audibly and clenched his big fists against his thighs, 
struggling to maintain his rapidly vanishing composure. Joby was entranced 
as he stared down the dark expanse of his torso, watching her pale hands at 
work on his dark flesh. While one of her small hands toyed with Joby's 
testicles, the slim fingers of the other lightly encircled the thick shaft 
of his penis. The black boy felt as if his penile flesh had been seared with 
a branding iron as Molly Peters began a long, teasing caress of his 
throbbing manhood. 

The sensuous blond was amazed at the dimensions of young Joby's towering 
cock. She stroked it lovingly from the broad base to the flaring tip, 
delighting in its jerky reaction to this tantalizing stimulation. Molly 
Peters shivered feverishly as a thin streamer of viscous semen drooled from 
the tip of Joby's cock and trailed across the upper swell of her full 
breasts. Joby moaned above her, his voice reaching Molly's ears as if from 
miles away, through a dense mist. 

Rising upright on her knees, Molly Peters brought her naked breasts level 
with the cobra-like head of Joby's cylindrical cob. Holding his penis in 
place with one hand, she began to sway her upper torso, causing her tits to 
wobble and bringing the stiff nipples into searing contact with Joby's moist 
cock head. Joby was mumbling incoherently now, totally lost in a world of 
massive erotic sensation. At last, after teasing and inciting him to her own 
satisfaction, Molly reached up to seize one of her heavy breasts in each 
hand, crushing the firm flesh around Joby's cock. Holding his penis thus 
entrapped in an artificial pussy, Molly began to rock sensuously back and 
forth. The black youth was beside himself, rotating his strong hips in an 
erotic rhythm complementing Molly's own. She could feel his cock swelling 
between her breasts, taking on greater length and girth as the blunt tip 
butted against her chest with every stroke. 

Instinctively realizing that Joby was about to shoot his hot jism into the 
soft valley of her breasts, Molly Peters abruptly sat back on her haunches 
and seized his cock around its thick base, squeezing tightly. A brief 
grimace of pain passed over the youth's face, but subsided quickly as he 
realized that her action was designed to further prolong the pleasure in 
store for them both. Molly held his cock thus for a full minute, waiting 
with barely restrained passion and anxiety for Joby's jangling nerves to 
regain some trace of normality before making her next move. 

When she felt his breathing had returned almost to normal, Molly leaned 
forward, running her pink tongue around her sensuous lips in eager 
anticipation. Suddenly her tongue lashed out to lave the blunt head of his 
cock. She savored the thick salty flavor of his semen and relished his 
audible cry of ecstasy, accompanied by wild rolling of his hips. With 
deliberate slowness she circled the corona of his wide glans, stretching her 
moist lips to envelop the hot tip of Joby's penile column as the youth stood 
quivering before her. Turning her head to one side, she planted a string of 
light, nibbling kisses along the incredibly long side of his massive cock, 
pausing at regular intervals to gently scrape his taut flesh with her even 
white teeth. Her tongue snaked out to curl beneath his broad penis, to 
caress the thick blue vein on its underside with light circular motions. 
Sucking and nibbling her way along the broad cylinder of flesh, Molly soon 
reached the heavy twin pendulums of his testicles. 

Spreading her jaws to their maximum width, Molly enveloped one of his balls 
in her mouth. She held it in that warm cavern, rolling it delicately on the 
sensual treadmill of her tongue. She reached around behind Joby, digging her 
nails clawlike into the boy's tight buttocks as he wavered on his feet. 
Releasing one testicle, she shifted her attention to the other, treating it 
to the same oral massage. Meanwhile, her searching fingertips parted the 
tense cheeks of his ass, probing first delicately, and then with more 
urgency at the puckered ring of his asshole. Joby reacted wildly, thrusting 
his hips forward so that the hot pole of his cock grazed her cheek, and the 
wet tip nuzzled the little cavern of her right ear. 

Releasing Joby's swollen testicle from her mouth, Molly Peters retraced her 
nibbling path along the side of his feverish organ. Reaching the blunt head, 
she swirled her tongue around the tip once more before enveloping the entire 
head with her lips. Joby murmured his delight as his thick fingers descended 
to tangle in her streaming blond tresses, using the leverage of his grip to 
pull her face tighter against his loins. Suddenly Molly Peters was gagging, 
choked by the sudden intrusion of his tumescent cock flesh into her mouth 
and throat. The blunt head raked across the roof of her mouth to nudge at 
her palate as she fought madly for air. But Joby was beyond thought now, 
pressing her warm mouth against his cock, and beginning to fuck into it with 
long, even strokes. 

And then, as Molly Peters began to panic from the sudden lack of air, she 
found that she could breathe quite easily by adjusting her inhalations to 
match Joby's fucking strokes. Her tight throat seemed to expand, becoming 
more responsive to his lunging thrusts, dilating to accept the pummeling 
head of his huge cock. The seminal leakage from his throbbing glans mingled 
with her saliva as his pole of flesh skewered in and out of her receptive 
mouth. Her lively tongue began anew its inch-worm massage of his tingling 
cock, stroking him onward to new heights of sexual ecstasy. 

Molly Peters could sense Joby's impending climax building in the swelling 
vein along the underside of his throbbing cock. She reluctantly released his 
tremoring penis from its moist prison and sat back on her haunches. Joby's 
eyes were tightly shut, and his ebony torso glistened with perspiration as 
he stood rigidly at attention before her, his cock standing out from his 
groin like a flagpole. The turgid column was slick with Molly's saliva, 
twitching in the cool air as she regarded it with lecherous eyes. After a 
long moment of seeming neglect, Joby's eyes snapped open, and he glanced 
down pleadingly at Molly Peters. 

"Please, Missy," the black youth begged, "please don't quit!" 

Molly did not answer, but instead rose gracefully to her feet in front of 
Joby. Grasping him firmly by the arms, she guided him around until the backs 
of his naked thighs brushed against the edge of the stout dining table. She 
pushed the chair aside-Jack's chair, she reminded herself with an evil 
smile-and gently pushed Joby backward with both palms against his muscular 
chest. 

"You lay back there on that table, now, Joby," she ordered, with a 
commanding tone in her voice which belied the trembling of her flesh. 

Joby complied without hesitation, scooting backward onto the dining table 
until he was prone upon it, with his legs dangling over the edge. His dark 
hips spread themselves across Jack Peters' traditional place at the table, 
and Joby's dark cock jutted upward from his loins like an erotic lighthouse 
tower, beckoning Molly to further heights of passion. 

The lust-inflamed housewife climbed nimbly onto the table with Joby, 
straddling him easily as she went to all fours above him. Her breasts swung 
freely, answering the demands of gravity, and as she bent forward to kiss 
him wetly on the lips, her erect nipples traced little teasing patterns on 
his dark chest. Joby opened his mouth wide to receive her nimble tongue. His 
tongue shot forward to fence with hers, then curled aside to give her room 
as she explored the warm cavern of his mouth. As they held the lingering 
kiss, Joby brought his big hands up to cup her full breasts, capturing the 
erect nipples between his fingers and pinching them until Molly squirmed 
with erotic sensation. His searching fingers moved on, down her trembling 
sides and along her flanks to cup her full buttocks as they squeezed 
together in spasms of sexual tension. Forcefully prying apart her plump ass 
cheeks, his fingers found the tiny puckered ring of her anus and circled it 
with maddening slowness. 

Unable to stand more, Molly Peters jerked her hips forward, grinding her 
feverish pussy mound against Joby's broad pelvis. She arched her back with 
the searing sensation as her little clitoral bud raked across his wiry pubic 
hair. His massive cock was wedged tightly between her ass cheeks, 
lubricating her slit with a viscous mixture of semen and saliva. Startled by 
the sensuous intrusion, Molly undulated her full hips in an erotic fucking 
rhythm, stroking Joby's tumescent member with the moist furrow of her ass. 
The dual frictions against her rectum and vagina drove the luscious blond 
into ever greater gyrations as she soared to new pinnacles of unrestrained 
passion. 

Rising to her knees above Joby's heaving torso, Molly Peters reached back 
between her full thighs to snare Joby's penis in her hand. Cupping the blunt 
head in her palm, she pulled his cock forward, grasping it like the 
gearshift of a racing car. Joby groaned and arched his tense buttocks off 
the kitchen table, trembling with passion. She carefully positioned the head 
of his shaft directly under the pouting lips of her own yearning cunt. 
Teasingly she rotated her hips, allowing only her golden pubic curls to 
tickle the wet tip of his manhood. Joby cried out his passion to the 
ceiling, gnashing his teeth in an effort to hold back the flood of sperm 
building in his churning balls. 

Prolonging Joby's exquisite agony, Molly deftly parted the lips of her cunt 
with one hand, using the other fist to squeeze his penis and postpone his 
seminal eruption. The panting blond lowered her pelvis, bringing her hot 
pussy into blistering conjunction with Joby's lurching penis. She slowly 
worked the bulging cock head back and forth along her steaming vaginal 
furrow, lavishing special attention upon the region of her clitoris. Jarring 
sensations racked her lower torso, causing her to arch her back and flail 
her head wildly from side to side. Now she concentrated exclusively on her 
hardened clitoris, flicking the slippery snout of his penile rod rapidly 
back and forth across the tingling seat of her desire, enflaming the flesh 
knob and propelling Molly into a frenzy. 

Seconds seemed to blur into minutes, and minutes into hours as Molly Peters 
perched above Joby's heaving pelvis, manipulating the knobby shaft of his 
cock against the burning meat of her vaginal slit. She rocked insanely on 
her haunches, mewling out her passion aloud while tremors of passion rocked 
her frame, setting her full breasts aquiver and setting off rippling 
convulsions in her belly. At last Molly could contain herself no longer. 
Poising the clasping mouth of her vagina above the poised column of Joby's 
cock, she suddenly plunged her hips downward, impaling herself with one 
excruciating thrust. 

For a full half-minute Molly Peters could not move. She stiffened in her 
position, pierced to her churning core with Joby's throbbing pole of penile 
flesh, her head cast forward so that her face was veiled by a screen of 
blond hair. Her sobs of gratitude mingled wetly with Joby's own growls of 
passion as she ground her pelvis in tight circles, crushing her clitoris and 
pussy lips against the black youth's pubic bone. Every trace of guilt 
brought on by her glaring violation of Southern racial traditions was now 
banished from Molly Peter's lust-filled mind as she pumped her hips more 
rapidly, driving on relentlessly toward the blissful release of orgasm. Her 
vaginal walls were gradually expanding to accommodate the pummeling of his 
inflated shaft, releasing ever greater quantities of feminine lubrication as 
she slid up and down the cylindrical source of her ecstasy. 

After the first searing sensation of his cock being enveloped in Molly's 
cunt, Joby gathered his wits enough to assume a complementary fucking rhythm 
of his own to match hers. He instinctively timed his upward thrusts to meet 
her pelvic downstrokes, jolting her vaginal cavity with the intensity of his 
spasmodic reaction. The snout of his penis rubbed naggingly at the mouth of 
her cervix, sending a renewed shiver of lecherous pleasure up the blond 
vixen's arching spine. Joby's semi-childlike mind was wiped clear of any 
fear and apprehension, as total sensual desire enveloped every tingling 
fibre of his being. His heavy scrotum contracted into a dark knot as a 
churning flood of sperm boiled in his testicles. His legs and lower body 
were seized with uncontrollable trembling as he felt the imminent approach 
of a shattering orgasm. 

Molly Peters could feel Joby's orgasmic tension rapidly mounting as she 
labored over him, ever increasing the tempo of her fucking motions. Her 
mouth hung open and she babbled insensibly as she surrendered herself 
totally to the rapture of the moment. She drove her hips faster now, 
striving to reach fulfillment before his jism erupted into her hungry cunt. 
Molly's hands leapt up to cup her bobbing breasts, the thumbs and 
forefingers tweaking fiercely at the strawberry buds of her aching nipples. 
A burning knot of erotic tension gathered in the cleft between the woman's 
buttocks, signaling the onset of her own hoped-for release. Her inner thighs 
hollowed, the tendons standing out like steel cables as she pumped furiously 
toward her climax. For an endless moment Molly Peters tottered on the 
razor's edge between frustration and release, and then she plunged over, 
into the mind-shattering swirl of a roaring orgasmic explosion. 

"OHHHH, GODDDD!!" she shrieked, her body tossing and twisting in a frenzy of 
fevered motion, "JESUS, I'M CCCCCUUUUUMMMMIIIIII-NNNNNNGGGGG!!!! 
AAAAUUUUGGGG-HHHHHH!!!!!" 

Joby was frantic beneath Molly as her cunt sucked ravenously at his 
throbbing penis. The velvety walls of her vaginal cavity milked his cock 
mercilessly, causing his heavy testicles to contract still tighter, in 
preparation for the coming seminal eruption. The black youth's orgasm 
overtook him like a surprise kick in the groin, arching his body off the 
table from head to hips, driving his impaling penis even deeper into Molly 
Peters' tender cunt. The thick, milky semen from his writhing balls suddenly 
burst forth from the head of his cock, spurting into the frantic blonde's 
vaginal canal like molten lava from an exploding volcano. 

Molly Peters stiffened anew as each succeeding burst of white-hot sperm 
splattered her quivering insides. The scalding impact spurred the exhausted 
blond into one last spasm of orgasmic frenzy. This latest explosion left her 
limp, slumped over Joby's sweat-slickened torso. Already she could feel his 
ebony cock shriveling within her, slipping ever so slowly from the clinging 
confines of her bruised vagina. She buried her face against Joby's naked 
shoulder, sobbing her relief even as she covered the boy's throat with tiny 
nibbling kisses. 

"Oh God, Joby," she wept gratefully, "Thank you, Joby, thank you!!" 

* * * 

Jack Peters, blissfully unaware of the adulterous orgy in progress at his 
own home, pulled his Cadillac to a stop in front of the Brown County 
courthouse, which also housed the jail and sheriffs office. It was dark in 
Serenity now, but the feeble streetlights around the town square gave Peters 
a clear view of the men clustered on the courthouse steps. Five men were 
present, all of them well known to Peters as business associates and 
longtime friends. More importantly, they were to be his companions in the 
evening's coming events. For these men were the elected "Action Squad" of 
the Brown County Ku Klux Klan. 

Deputy Sheriff Tag Watson was there, one hand lifted in greeting as Peters 
stepped from his automobile onto the street. With Watson stood Deke Franklin 
and Jeb Carter, construction workers with the state highway department who 
used their jobs to procure illegal explosives for later use by the klan in 
terrorist raids. Two other klansmen sat on the concrete steps. One was 
"Pooney" Thompson-nicknamed for his taste for "poontang"-a gunsmith whose 
shop served as an arms depot for Peters' kluxers. The other was young Ben 
Freeman, the newest member of the action squad, who had yet to prove his 
mettle on one of the frequent excursions against the black community. 

Respectful greetings were murmured and hands shaken all around, as Jack 
Peters, Imperial Wizard of the Serenity Klan, assembled his loyal followers. 
Tag Watson had already informed the others of the evening's events so far, 
and he briefly recapped them now for Peters as the six men mounted the 
courthouse steps. Peters seemed well satisfied with Watson's account, 
nodding assent as they passed through the heavy oak doors into the lobby of 
the county building. As Watson finished his tale, Peters gathered the five 
klansmen about him in a tight huddle. 

"We got us a problem here, men, but thanks to Tag, here," Peters nodded 
toward the beaming deputy, "I believe we got it under control." 

"What's the problem, Mr. Peters?" asked young Ben Freeman. 

Peters eyed the young klansman carefully before replying. "You're new on the 
squad, Ben. A little while back, we found it necessary to ... uh ... 
eliminate a certain nigger agitator!" He let the snickering subside before 
he continued, "And now this certain agitator's wench is upstairs in the nut 
cage, tellin' everybody who'll listen that it was the ku klux killed her 
buck! We got us a little job to do, findin' out how much she really knows!" 

The younger klansman seemed troubled by Peters' revelations as he spoke 
again. "What if she don't know anything?" he asked apprehensively. 

Peters smiled broadly to the assembled men as he responded, "Boy, that bitch 
is dead meat either way! But in the meantime, she may provide us with a bit 
of entertainment to help pass the time!" 

The Imperial Wizard missed the new flicker of distaste on Ben Freeman's face 
as he turned, and led the clutch of laughing klansmen toward the double 
doors of the waiting elevator. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Young Maisie Dixon sat curled in the corner of her isolated jail cell. She 
was in the "nut cage," a special room usually reserved for mentally unstable 
prisoners in danger of harming themselves or others. The only furniture was 
a combination bench and cot bolted to one wall. There was no sink, and the 
only toilet was a grate-covered drain in one corner of the gently sloping 
floor. The walls, floor, and even the ceiling of the cell were thickly 
padded, so that violent inmates could not harm themselves by thrashing about 
within the room. 

Maisie was clad only in the loose-fitting shift dress of rough denim 
material which Tag Watson had given her earlier. The harsh material grated 
painfully against her tender nipples, still bruised from the crude oral 
assaults of Watson and jailer Hank Jeeters. The young black girl was weeping 
softly, totally overcome by a combination of terror at her predicament, and 
shame at the way her woman's body had involuntarily responded to the brutal 
fucking of Jeeters. She was shocked and humiliated by her own wanton lustful 
behavior. In her mind's eye she could feel the accusing eyes of her murdered 
lover, Bobby Lee Brown, scorning her for her lewd submission to the white 
racist's sexual desires. She wept more loudly, grinding her knuckles against 
her reddened eyes. 

Maisie was startled when the narrow door to the padded and soundproof cell 
swung suddenly open. She was frightened by her first glimpse of a tall, 
ghostly figure in the doorway, but a new kind of terror as she recognized 
the newcomer as a man, wearing the peaked hood and white robe of the deadly 
Ku Klux Klan! The Klansman crossed silently to the wall opposite Maisie, and 
stood there with his arms folded while another robed figure entered, and 
then another. In all, seven hooded men now stood in a tight semicircle 
before the cringing girl. The last to enter the cell was clad in a black 
hood and robe, denoting his higher rank in the secret society which Maisie 
had been raised to treat with fear and respect. It was this black-robed 
figure who first broke the silence in the small cell. 

"This here looks like a real sweet piece of dark meat," Jack Peters said 
softly, to the accompaniment of lewd laughter from the others. 

Maisie thought the man's voice sounded familiar, but she could not place it 
in her mind. There was no mistaking the second voice, for it was burned 
indelibly into the black girl's memory. It was the leering voice of jailer 
Hank Jeeters. 

"Yes, sir," Jeeters gloated, "she's a juicy piece all right! I can vouch for 
that!" 

Maisie flushed with shame as the Klansmen laughed out their appreciation of 
Jeeter's comment. She tugged vainly at the short hem of her prison uniform, 
trying in vain to cover the smooth brown flesh of her full thighs, but 
succeeding only in further irritating her swollen nipples, bringing them 
once more into quivering erection. 

"We got business with you, gal," Jack Peters intoned solemnly. "There's some 
questions we need to ask ya." 

Maisie Dixon kept her eyes downcast, staring at the floor of the cell and 
making no reply to the robed man's statement. Her silence infuriated one of 
the other Klansmen, who took a menacing step forward, and shouted at her in 
a voice she recognized as Tag Watson's. 

"Godammit, bitch!" the deputy yelled, "You look at the Imperial Wizard when 
he's speakin' to you!" 

Afraid that Watson might strike her, Maisie looked up quickly, first at the 
robed deputy towering above her, and then at the black-robed man be- side 
the door. Jack Peters nodded slowly, whether in approval of Watson's 
behavior or her own she could not tell. 

"Now, gal," Peters spoke, so softly Maisie had to strain her ears to catch 
the words, "tell us ever-'thing you know 'bout the murder of Bobby Lee 
Brown." 

This mention of her dead lover provoked new tears from the cowering young 
girl, but it also spurred her on to a new level of almost hopeless defiance. 

"You tell me, mister wizard," she spat the title like some vile obscenity, 
"you-all know more 'bout who killed my man than I do!" 

Several of the Klansmen gasped in surprise at Maisie's bravado. Jack Peters 
nodded slightly to Tag Watson, and the deputy stepped quickly forward, 
drawing back his boot in mid-stride. Maisie saw the kick coming, but she had 
time only to turn sideways, taking the full force of the punishing blow on 
the side of one hip. Watson had drawn back for another kick, when Peters' 
voice stopped him cold. 

"Hold there, brother," the head Klansman ordered with quiet authority. "I 
got more enjoyable plans for this uppity wench than usin' her ass for a 
football! Pooney, Jeb, help brother Tag strip the bitch!" 

With that, two other Klansmen leapt forward, grappling with Maisie's 
flailing legs while Tag Watson seized her wrists. Her strength was no match 
for that of the three men, and her feeble struggles served only to force the 
hem of her prison dress up about her hips, giving the Klansmen a clear view 
of the dark pubic hair between her frantically twisting legs. Tag Watson 
pinned her narrow wrists in one of his broad hands, curling the fingers of 
the other into the high neckline of her denim shift. With one brutal wrench 
he tore the garment from neckline to waist, exposing the twin mounds of 
Maisie Dixon's full young breasts to every man in the room. Another jerk of 
his hand opened her dress to the hemline, leaving it totally agape, and 
flapping uselessly about her curvaceous young body. With a final cry of, 
"Turn her loose!" Watson grasped one ragged edge of the torn garment, and 
violently ripped it from Maisie's body. She was lifted-completely off the 
floor of the cell, spun about like a top, and dropped roughly in a sitting 
position facing the group of robed Klansmen. 

Momentarily stunned, Maisie quickly recovered, dropping one hand to 
partially cover her pubic thatch, and holding the other arm up as a shield 
for the jiggling nipples of her nude breasts. After a long moment of silent 
scrutiny, the Klansmen began to march counterclockwise, circling Maisie as 
they scoured her luscious nakedness with their eyes, commenting lewdly on 
the delicious features of her ripe body. 

"I been meaning to try me some of that brown sugar!" 

"You ain't a man 'til you had some, brother!" 

"Yeah, man! Lookit that ass, willya?" 

"I'm gonna cut me a slice of dark meat, for sure!" 

When the Klansmen regained their original positions in front of Maisie, they 
halted, and stood with arms folded, in menacing silence. The Imperial Wizard 
again broke the silence with his commanding voice. 

"Pin her down, brothers," Jack Peters ordered gruffly, "and I'll give 'er a 
taste of white meat she won't soon forget!" 

Four of the masked men sprang forward, whooping enthusiastically as they 
bent to do their leader's bidding. One man seized each of her wrists and 
ankles, jerking her limbs out straight as they spread-eagled her on the 
floor of the padded cell. Never had Maisie Dixon felt so totally exposed and 
humiliated. She twisted feebly in the strong grasp of the four Klansmen, but 
her spasmodic motions served only to set her full ripe breasts a-jiggle for 
their amusement, and to further splay her taut young thighs. She remained 
silent, knowing from her earlier experience with Hank Jeeters that any pleas 
for mercy from these men would fall on deaf ears. 

Glancing anxiously between her heaving breasts, the girl watched the 
black-robed Klansman approach her. Now he stood directly in front of her 
widespread feet, his eyes devouring her nakedness through the slits in his 
peaked hood. Slowly, Jack Peters unbuttoned his flowing robe, and slipped 
out of the satin garment. Handing it to a waiting Klansman, the Wizard began 
to undress more quickly, shedding first his shoes and stockings, then his 
shirt. Next, he dropped his trousers and kicked them aside, standing naked 
before her except for his undershorts and the black hood covering his face. 
His jutting erection twisted the skimpy shorts, the purplish tip peeking 
wetly from the gaping fly of the garment. Hooking his thumbs into the 
elastic waistband of the shorts, Peters lowered them over his hips and 
stiffened cock, letting them fall and stepping out of them as he moved to a 
point between Maisie's trembling knees. 

A sob caught in Maisie Dixon's throat as the masked Klansman dropped to his 
knees on the floor between her pinioned legs. For a long moment, Jack Peters 
massaged is jutting erection with one hand, stroking it lovingly to even 
greater dimensions while his other hand cupped his tightening scrotum. The 
thin material of his mask billowed as his breathing became heavier, and a 
fine sheen of perspiration stood out on the taut muscles of his chest and 
shoulders. Bending forward at the waist, Jack Peters reached out one broad 
hand toward the furry mound of Maisie's delicate cuntal mound. His rough 
fingertips rummaged through her wiry pubic hair, seeking and then finding 
the pouting nether lips of her vagina. He spread those tingling lips with 
his fingers, and Maisie felt the questing digits insinuate themselves into 
her trembling little slit, working upward toward her swelling clitoris. The 
first contact of his flesh with that blossoming bud brought Maisie's hips up 
off the floor in a spasm of mingled pain and surprised pleasure. He 
manipulated her joy button ruthlessly, and she felt the renewed stirring of 
faint desire deep in the pit of her heaving stomach. 

Oh, not again! she pleaded inwardly, battling with her rebellious woman's 
flesh, please don't let me become aroused again by these sadistic men! 

Jack Peters could sense her inward struggle, reading her dilemma in her 
clenching buttocks and thighs, and in the slowly increasing rotation of her 
full young hips. He laughed evilly as he noted her grudging spark of 
response, increasing the rotary tempo of his broad thumb against the 
inflamed node of her clit. His index finger teasingly traced the moist 
furrow of her vaginal mouth, flicking lightly at the furred lips of her 
womanhood. Maisie Dixon bit deeply into her full lower lip as she struggled 
to maintain her self control in the face of his latest crude assault upon 
her loins. She was startled by the sudden light touch of the man's 
fingertips upon the fluttering flesh of her smooth young belly. His taunting 
hand traced light circles and figure-eight patterns across her dark flesh, 
ever climbing toward the taut twin peaks of her breasts. Her chocolate 
colored nipples tightened and quivered into full erection at anticipation of 
the coming sensuous assault. 

Jack Peters' index finger was slowly, tantalizingly rotating about the 
puckered mouth of Maisie's vagina when his other hand reached the goal of 
her breasts. He cupped the outer swell of one breast in his coarse palm, 
stroking the soft, dark flesh without gentleness or passion. His hand moved 
in wide circles, encompassing most of her breast in its sensuous circuit 
from armpit to nipple. The Klansman could feel her entire breast stiffen as 
she arched her back in an effort to evade his grasp. His wide thumb circled 
the areola of her nipple, jangling her nerves and causing her upper body to 
twitch uncontrollably, like some erratic puppet in the hands of a spastic 
puppeteer. Peters grasped the straining nipple bud between his thumb and 
forefinger, lifting upward and pinching at the same time, first gently, and 
then with increasing force, bringing Maisie's torso up off the floor of the 
cell in a lascivious bow. Maisie gasped at the burning pain in her tortured 
nipple, straining in vain against the iron fists pinning her limbs, until 
the sensation in her heaving chest began to change subtly. 

Maisie Dixon was surprised and humiliated by the sudden change in the 
sensations sweeping over her body. The pain her distended nipple was 
suffering had transformed itself into a warm glow, growing hotter as it 
spread outward from her nipple bud to engulf the entire breast. Tiny 
lightning bolts of sensuous pleasure rippled from her mounding breast flesh 
down across her flat belly, igniting flames of unwanted desire and yearning 
in the tight channel of her hungry cunt. She fought to suppress a moan of 
mingled shame and passion as the klansman cupped her entire breast in his 
palm, chafing the super-sensitive nipple bud in the center of his rotating 
palm. 

Maisie was rapidly losing her struggle to restrain the rampant lust mounting 
in her loins. Tears of humiliation and frustrated rage stained her cheeks, 
and she sucked in great ragged breaths of air as she finally surrendered 
herself to the mounting sexual tension in her crotch. She breathed a sigh of 
premature relief as the klans-man's hand left her breast, only to shiver 
anew as it joined his other fist in her writhing groin. First one finger, 
and then two, were thrust experimentally into the tight opening of her 
rapidly moistening pussy, rotating excruciatingly against the raw walls of 
her cuntal canal. At the same time, the index finger of his other hand found 
the puckered little ring of her rectum, and popped suddenly inside, burying 
itself to the first knuckle. 

"AAAUUUGGGHHH!!! GODDD!!!" she wailed, her tiny rectum on fire with the 
startlingly painful inti usion, "Please stop, leave me alone!!!" 

Lewd chuckles greeted her shouted plea, and Maisie Dixon lapsed once more 
into tearful silence, her breasts heaving to the rhythm of her sobs. Jack 
Peters' fingers curled into claws, drawing the lips of her tight pussy 
roughly aside, and exposing the clasping mouth of her. secret vagina to his 
searching gaze. 

Jack Peters dropped forward in a push-up position over Maisie's torso, 
lowering his pelvis into conjunction with her aching loins. Rocking slowly 
on his knees, he brought the moist tip of his cock into burning contact with 
her cuntal slit. Maisie groaned helplessly, losing herself in the sensations 
caused by his turgid cock as it plowed along her steaming vaginal slit. The 
flaring head nuzzled maddeningly against the blood-filled node of her 
clitoris, sending jolts of electrifying erotic sensation spiraling along her 
spine and into the very heart of her being. The thickly veined underside of 
his penis slithered wetly along her trembling snatch, prying apart the puffy 
nether lips and grinding deliciously against the pink inner flesh of her 
cunt. The black girl began to rotate her full hips in an accommodating 
fucking rhythm of her own, seeking the maximum contact with the masked man's 
plundering cock. 

Jack Peters suddenly withdrew his hips, breaking the contact between his 
cock and the black girl's pumping cuntal mound. Maisie Dixon's wide brown 
eyes snapped open, searching wildly for the source of her imminent relief as 
a faint moan of frustration slipped from her lips. Peters glared down at her 
from the slits in his black hood as her ripe young body slowly began to 
undulate of its own volition, hips straining upward in a silent pleading 
gesture. The klansman watched her silently for a long moment, then swung his 
wide hips down and forward, plunging the blunt head of his cock directly 
into the puckered little mouth of her pussy. 

Maisie Dixon stiffened into granite rigidity, arching her back and grinding 
her ass cheeks into the floor as she gasped with pain at the sudden searing 
invasion of her vaginal tunnel. Jack Peters held her there, pinned to the 
floor, for a long moment, while she was seized with uncontrolled tremors 
from head to toe. Then, just as her rigid muscles began to find some measure 
of relaxation, he withdrew his cock slowly from her cunt, pulling the tight 
walls of her pussy after it, clinging wetly to the broad pole of turgid male 
meat. When only the flar- ing head remained inside her, he suddenly thrust 
forward once again, skewering her anew with his pummeling rod. His fucking 
tempo increased, tearing her secret genital flesh with ever more rapid stabs 
of mingled agony and ecstasy. Maisie felt as if her entire crotch was 
wreathed in searing, sensual flame. 

"AAUUGGHH!!" she gasped breathlessly, "OH MY GOD!! YYYEEESSSH!" 

Jack Peters laughed aloud at her obviously reluctant surrender to the 
passion rapidly building in her burning cunt, as he fucked up into her 
yearning pussy with increasingly powerful strokes. The walls of Maisie's 
cunt sucked hungrily at the tip of the klansman's penis like some ravenous 
mouth. Peters could feel his scrotum tighten like a clenched fist as a 
heated load of sperm roiled in his churning testicles. The yellow lighting 
of the cell reflected brightly off the glistening perspiration on the man's 
clenched and pumping buttocks as he strained over the Negro girl's captive 
body. His scrotum slapped wetly against her tensing buttocks as he fucked 
into her, and his penis made juicy sloshing sounds as it reamed in and out 
of her pussy on each stroke. 

Reaching between his body and the girl's with one hand, Jack Peters sought 
and found the tiny puckered ring of her virginal rectum. Timing his move to 
coincide with the stabbing inward thrust of his cock, he rammed his middle 
finger deep within that tiny circle, piercing Maisie's warm little asshole 
to the core. Maisie's entire body squirmed and stiffened at the new double 
invasion of her innermost being, her moist mouth yawning open in a soundless 
scream. Peters' hand and cock worked together now in the forceful violation 
of her young body, first stroking simultaneously, then alternating so that 
one or the other was constantly pummeling her tender flesh. Young Maisie 
Dixon was rapidly being driven into a frenzy of sexual desire by the masked 
Klansman's ruthless assault upon her defenseless crotch and rectum. 
Unbelievable shivers of total erotic sensation raced along her arching spine 
as the brutal rapist's pelvis slammed wetly against her widespread pubis. 

"OHHH!!! YYYEEESSSH!" Maisie keened out, as the first tingles of preorgasmic 
sensation spread outward from the tightly clenched cheeks of her ripe young 
ass, "GIVE ME MMMOOORRREEE!!! HHHAAARRRDDDEEERRR!!" 

Jack Peters eagerly complied with her shouted pleas for more, pumping his 
tumescent cock energetically into Maisie Dixon's fluttering pussy. Whipping 
his finger abruptly from her clasping asshole, he brought both hands up to 
seize her full, ripe breasts, squeezing them cruelly in his blind passion. 
His fingers fastened upon her throbbing nipples like pincers, twisting and 
tugging violently until she cried out in pain. The agony quickly merged into 
an even more unwelcome sensation, however, and her full quivering tits were 
suffused with a strange glow of sensual warmth, quickly expanding to engulf 
her entire upper torso. The heated sensation spread rapidly, merging with 
the raging inferno climbing from Maisie's violated young loins to create an 
overwhelming spasm of sensual feeling, sweeping her inexorably onward to 
orgasm. And suddenly she was there, her entire being ablaze with the lewd 
glory of mind-boggling sexual release, a shattering roller coaster ride with 
no beginning or end, only reeling, pitching waves of ecstasy as she wailed 
her frenzied excitement to the assembled klansmen. 

"OOOHHH, GGGOOODDDH!" she wailed, unmindful of the whoops and jeering taunts 
from the klansmen frollicking around her in the cell, "JJJEEESSSUUUSSS!!! 
I'M CCCUUUMMMIII-NNNCGGH!" 

Maisie Dixon's orgasmic tremors hastened Jack Peters along to his own 
climax. Her hungrily sucking cunt provoked undreamed-of sensations from the 
tip of his driving penis to the base of his writhing spine. And suddenly, 
the klansman could feel the seminal eruption beginning in his tightened 
scrotal sack, racing the full length of his impassioned organ to explode 
within the black girl's thirsty vagina. The initial droplets of his cum were 
followed quickly by a viscous flood, spurt after spurt of scalding sperm to 
coat the corrugated walls of Maisie's clenching cunt. The black-hooded 
klansman surrendered himself completely to the throes of orgasm as he 
emptied his semen into the unresisting body of the captive girl pinned 
beneath him. 

The other men in the room had fallen silent as their leader was carried away 
to an ecstasy of orgasmic relief. Now they came alive again, calling out 
their congratulations as Peters rose to a kneeling posture, adjusting and 
straightening his rumpled black hood. "Way to ride, Chief!" 

"Attaboy, there! You really stuck it to her, but good!!" 

"You leave any for the rest of us, Jack?" 

This last exclamation provoked an angry outburst from Tag Watson. "What the 
hell," the deputy shouted furiously, "no names! Don't call out no names in 
front of the nigger!" 

"Ease off, now, brother Tag," Jack Peters commanded, rising to his feet 
between Maisie's limp thighs. "She's already seen you and Hank. She might as 
well see us all." With that, he swept off his hood and tossed it toward the 
corner where his robe lay folded on the floor. 

"It ain't gonna matter now, noways," Hank Jeeters replied with an evil laugh 
as he and the other klansmen followed their leader's example in baring their 
faces. 

Maisie had no time to contemplate this cryptic remark. Glancing about her, 
she noticed that the klansmen were all in various stages of undress, except 
for one who stood apart from them beside the cell door. Two of them were 
already nude, having just removed their masks in imitation of their leader. 
Now one of those two stepped forward, a thin ruffian called Pooney Thompson, 
who Maisie recognized as a regular heckler at the downtown demonstrations. 

"This baby's mine, now," Thompson announced, striding forward to tower over 
Maisie's naked form, adding, "I don't cotton much to sloppy seconds. Reckon 
I'll have to find another hole!" 

With that, Thompson roughly grabbed Maisie by the wrists, twisting her arms 
until she submitted and rolled over on her stomach. He dropped to a crouch 
between her limp thighs, seizing her full buttocks in his rough hands. 
Prying Maisie's ass-cheeks cruelly apart, the klansman eyed her puckered 
little rectum with a lewd chuckle of satisfaction. 

"Yessir," he announced to no one in particular, "this looks like it'll do 
jest fine!" 

The full import of the klansman's lecherous intention was brought home to 
Maisie when she felt the probing tip of his index finger against the tight 
rubbery ring of asshole. She began to squirm her hips frantically in an 
effort to escape the painful intrusion. The black girl gasped in sudden pain 
as the invading digit slipped into her rectum to the second knuckle. Slowly, 
excruciatingly, the finger continued worming its way into her clasping 
little asshole, causing Maisie to twitch her hips in fright and pain. After 
several moments, the pain began to subside and was replaced by a warm glow. 
Pooney Thompson continued to work his finger in and out of the girl's rectal 
cavern, taking note of the sudden cessation of resistance on her part. A 
lewd grin split his face as Maisie Dixon showed the first signs of abject 
surrender to his unwelcome finger fucking. Her sobs slowly tapered off, to 
be replaced by low moaning cries of mingled pleasure and shame. 

Maisie Dixon was mortified by her inability to suppress the sinful desires 
which seemed intent on dominating her on this day of grief. She regarded the 
betrayal of her body as a form of punishment for her earlier desecration of 
Bobby Lee's funeral day with her lewd finger-fucking in the cabin bathtub. 
Even now, despite her humiliation, Maisie could not withstand a lewd shiver 
of passion provoked by the pumping invasion of her tight little asshole. An 
aura of sensual warmth enveloped the helpless young woman's torso, and she 
began to rotate her hips involuntarily, fucking back in accommodation of 
Pooney Thompson's vulgar assault. When the klansman suddenly whipped his 
probing finger from her tiny rectum, Maisie Dixon was suddenly overwhelmed 
by a sense of emptiness and loss. Her buttocks rotated helplessly in the 
air, seeking relief as she mewled out her disappointment. 

"Wha ... what are ... you doing?" Maisie asked desperately, feeling her tiny 
asshole clasping and unclasping of its own volition, "Why did you stop?" 

"Don't worry, gal," the klansman advised her, seemingly unmindful of the 
lewd laughter from his comrades, "You're gonna get all you can handle, right 
now!" 

Even as he spoke, Maisie felt renewed pressure upon the little opening of 
her anus, inexorably stretching the elastic ring of her sphincter. She 
sought vainly to relax her anal muscles to accommodate the latest invasion, 
but the pressure was different, more urgent and painful than before. She 
suddenly realized that both of the klansman's hands were grasping her smooth 
shoulders! It must be the head of his erect cock stabbing against the mouth 
of her rectum!! 

"No! Wait!" she cried out in alarm. "It's ... it's too big!! I can't take 
it!" 

"You'll take it, bitch!" Pooney Thompson snarled, "And you'll like it too, 
before I'm done!" 

With that, the klansman gave another thrust of his hips, driving his fat 
cock an inch further into Maisie's unyielding asshole. A sob of helpless 
pain was wrenched from the young woman's lips as she struggled against the- 
fierce rape of her burning rectum. Slowly the plundering penis inched its 
way into Maisie Dixon's tight little ass, forcing shock waves of tender 
flesh ahead of the blunt tip. With a final vengeful lunge, Thompson buried 
his cock to the hilt, slamming his pubic bone against the cleft of her ass. 
The meaty pendulum of his scrotum swung wildly between his legs, slapping 
wetly against the furred slit of her cunt. It felt to Maisie as if she was 
being torn wide open by the plundering rod of Pooney Thompson's massive 
blood-filled cock. 

"OOOHHH, GGGOOODDD!!!" Maisie screamed, her cry sounding strangely muffled 
in the padded cell, "STOP! STOP IT!! YOU'RE KILLING MEEEEM! 
AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUU-GGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" 

"You ain't dead yet, nigger," Thompson grated, as he slowly withdrew his 
cock from her clinging rectal canal. "You got a lotta life left in you yet!" 

With that, the cruel klansman thrust forward once more, skewering young 
Maisie's violated rectum with his rigid shaft. He began picking up the tempo 
of his thrusts, hammering her defenseless little asshole with the blows of 
his passion. Each thrust left Maisie with the feeling that she was on the 
verge of serious internal injury, but her renewed cries for mercy brought 
only further shouts of laughter from the assembled klansmen, and even more 
energetic anal thrusts from her latest tormentor. The young woman's clawed 
fingers dug deeply into the firm padding of the cell floor as she braced 
herself hopelessly under the brutal pounding. 

A seeming eternity had elapsed when Maisie Dixon noted a change in the 
sensations sweeping her lower body. The burning pain was suddenly replaced 
by a more pleasant feeling, as her rubbery little rectum slowly dilated to 
accommodate Pooney Thompson's burrowing penis. At the same instant, a 
sympathetic twinge of erotic feeling flared into life within her 
recently-violated cunt. Maisie's energetic efforts to escape the rape of her 
tiny asshole, her pumping hips had ground forward against the floor, chafing 
her tiny clitoral bud against the padding at the same time. The sensual 
friction brought her fleshy joy button into quivering erection, sending out 
electrifying jolts of spine-tingling sensation to all parts of her captive 
body. Maisie's groans of agony were replaced by low and rhythmic moans of 
steadily growing pleasure. 

Pooney Thompson grinned with triumph and pleasure as Maisie began to fuck 
back at him with her full round hips. He increased the pace of his deeply 
skewering strokes, driving her harshly against the padded floor with each 
and every thrust. The rocking rhythm of her torso against the floor was 
driving the black girl to a fever pitch of excitement, as her tingling clit 
and erect nipples rubbed tantalizingly against the coarse padding. Unable to 
suppress her own physical reactions, she began to hump backwards against the 
klansman's pelvis, rotating her hips in tiny circles to further stimulate 
the tingling cavern of her anus. Her entire world centered now upon that 
tumescent pole of flesh penetrating the innermost recesses of her rectal 
flesh. 

"Oh yes!" she gasped, "More! Give me more!!" 

"What, bitch?" Thompson asked, with a sneer in his voice, "What do you 
want?" 

Maisie could formulate no reply, as she lay gasping beneath the prostrate 
klansman. She vainly ground her hips back against him, whimpering in 
frustration, but he had ceased his thrusts while awaiting her reply. When 
she made no answer after a full minute of hesitation, he whipped his swollen 
penis out of her rectum in one fluid motion. Maisie cried out in surprise 
and pain at his harsh and unexpected exit, her tiny anus burning with the 
friction of his sudden withdrawal. Her broad young hips rotated an inch off 
the cell floor, searching blindly for the missing penile flesh which had 
deserted her yearning flesh. 

"Oh, please ..." she begged tearfully, "Don't... don't stop ... now!" 

"I asked you a question, bitch!" Thompson grated in reply. "What is it you 
want??" 

"C.. .c.. .cock," she replied, almost whispering. 

"Speak up, nigger, "the klansman fairly shouted, "I can't hear ya!!" 

"COCK!!" young Maisie Dixon screamed out in response, "I WANT YOUR COCK IN 
MY ASS!!!" 

With a throaty cry of male satisfaction, Pooney Thompson slammed his hips 
forward, driving the solid shaft of his tumescent erection deep into the 
clasping cavern of her once-virginal little rectum. He pounded his cock into 
her yielding ass with renewed vigor, almost with fury, as she twisted and 
moaned beneath him. Reaching between their heaving bodies with one hand, the 
klansman found her moist pussy furrow with the coarse tips of his fingers. 
Her buttocks were provoked to more energetic motions as his hand made 
electrifying contact with her erect clitoris, setting off new erotic spasms 
in her lower torso. At the same time, his other hand wormed its way 
underneath her belly, sliding upward to cup the full swell of one breast in 
the calloused palm. He ground his palm fiercely against her quivering young 
nipple in a chafing rotary motion that sent her upper body into writhing 
spasms matching the motion of her hips. 

Maisie Dixon could feel her orgasm approaching under Pooney Thompson's 
triple stimulation of her asshole, pussy, and tits. Nagging remnants of 
shame burned in her feverish young mind, but by this time she was totally 
abandoned to the sweeping sensations of the moment, driving on toward 
ultimate release with single-minded fanaticism. Her yearning need had 
reached such a state that she could permit nothing to stand in the path of 
total sensual fulfillment. All thoughts of Bobby Lee, and of her own 
personal degradation, were thrust rudely aside as the young girl focused her 
mind on the spiral staircase to ecstasy. Her fingers dug spasmodically at 
the padding on the floor, and her breath came in short, moaning gasps, her 
entire being gearing itself toward nothing beyond sexual release. 

Pooney Thompson was enthralled with the involuntary reactions of the girl 
straining beneath him. Her obvious pleasure at the cruel ass-fucking she was 
receiving had provoked him to ever greater plunging thrusts, burying his 
entire rigid penis to the hilt in the warm velvety depths of Maisie Dixon's 
petite rectum. He could feel her anal muscles tighten about his piercing 
shaft, as she approached the brink of total, devastating orgasm. For one 
long, tense moment, Maisie was absolutely still, as Thompson's pumping 
thrusts battered her along the road to ecstasy. And then, the klansman felt 
the first orgasmic tremor begin in the moist cleft between her ripe 
buttocks. It transmitted itself to his rigid cock, touching off 
corresponding tremors deep in his own belly as she was swept away in a 
sensual hurricane of feeling and emotion. Her entire body arched upward from 
the floor, a bridge of supple feminine flesh supported by stiffened fingers 
and toes as she shuddered into the home stretch of shattering sexual 
explosion. 

"AAAUUUGGGHHH!! GOOODDD!!" Maisie bellowed out, giving full vent to her 
boiling ecstasy, "II'MM CCCUUUMMMIIINNNGGGH!" 

Maisie Dixon's mind went suddenly blank as the orgasmic waves washed over 
her naked body, battering mind and flesh in a tempest of excruciating 
pleasure. Her body stiffened from head to foot, every muscle tightened in 
the rictus of pleasure closely akin to mortal pain. The sudden clenching of 
her rectal sphincter trapped Pooney Thompson's penis in a velvet vise, 
treating his enflamed member to a spasmodic sensual massage from hilt to 
flaring tip. The klansman felt the first tingles of orgasm flicker about the 
broad tip, racing quickly along the shaft to ignite an erotic inferno in his 
tightened balls. Suddenly something twanged deep in his balls, and he was 
there, racing madly along with his pelvic strokes merging into a blur of 
motion as he abandoned himself to brain-wrenching orgasm. The flaming 
cauldron of his seminal fluid boiled over, erupting from the tip of his 
driving rod to coat the interior of Maisie's anus with a load of scalding 
sperm. 

"Shit! Fuck!!" the klansman gasped in his pleasurable agony, "SHE'S MAKING 
ME CUM!!!" 

Thompson pinned her with one final skewering thrust, plunging deeper than 
ever as he poured the last drops of his cum deep into Maisie's rectum, 
before collapsing exhausted upon her prostrate form. His breath came in 
ragged gasps, matching the girl's own spastic respiration. At long last he 
crawled away from her, his penis retreating from her anus with a wet plop! 

As Pooney Thompson left her and went to retrieve his clothing from the 
corner of the cell, another klansman stepped forward to take his place. The 
previously loud and jovial mood in the cell had subsided, as the klansmen 
were slowly divided into two groups. The satisfied ones retired to get their 
second wind and marshal their strength, while the others waited in various 
stages of arousal and eager anticipation for their own turn. It was Tag 
Watson, the rat-eyed sheriffs deputy, who came forward to participate in the 
black girl's cruel defilement. 

Maisie's first recognition of her newest assailant came when Watson's 
fingers tangled in her hair, twisting her around to face him. She winced 
with pain as Watson hauled violently on her hair, forcing her first to her 
hands and knees, then to a kneeling position in front of him. She was still 
breathing heavily from the last assault, her full breasts wobbling as her 
chest heaved mightily. Her ripe young body, glistening with perspiration, 
commanded the rapt attention of every man in the cell. Each conjured up his 
own secret fantasies as he viewed the captive girl in all her vulnerability. 

Maisie Dixon knelt with her head downcast and her eyes closed, crying softly 
in a torment of embarrassment, fear, and abject humiliation. When Tag Watson 
spoke to her, his voice sounded strange and small, as if it came from very 
far away. 

"Lookit me, nigger," Watson commanded, his harsh voice dripping with venom. 

Maisie held her eyes tightly shut, silently praying for an end to her 
horrifying sexual ordeal, whatever that end might be. In her grief, she 
failed to note the dangerous urgency in the cruel deputy's voice. 

"I SAID LOOK AT ME, YOU BLACK BITCH!!" he shouted, his voice a thunderclap 
in the sound proofed room. 

At the same instant, Watson's open hand lashed out in a stunning blow to 
Maisie Dixon's cheek. He held her pinned with one hand knotted in her hair, 
while the other flailed back and forth across her face in a numbing cadence 
of blows, leaving the black girl groggy and aching. When he released his 
grip on her scalp she almost collapsed, but saved herself from falling at 
the last moment by leaning forward on her hands. 

"You gonna do like I tell ya, gal?" the lecherous deputy inquired, "Or you 
want some more right now?" 

"No, no," Maisie shook her head weakly, "Please ... no more." 

"Awright, then," her captor gloated, "Do like I said, and look at me!" 

Looking up anxiously through her tears, Maisie noticed for the first time 
that Tag Watson was totally nude. His thick penis was on a level with her 
tear-stained face, semi-erect and drooping slightly across the twin sacks of 
his testicles. She was unable to wrench her gaze away from the tube of male 
flesh, watching in morbid fascination as it began to stiffen slightly before 
her very eyes. Cupping one hand at the back of Maisie Dixon's skull, the 
squint-eyed deputy grasped the hardening rod of his cock in the other hand. 
Slowly he manipulated it into more pronounced erection, kneading the 
blood-engorged flesh tantalizingly, and rolling back the foreskin with his 
fingers to expose the purplish flaring head. Taking a half pace forward, 
Watson brought the blunt penile tip to within an inch of the black girl's 
face. 

"How about a little ole kiss for Big Boy?" the klansman asked sneeringly. 

"Wha... what... do you mean?" Maisie asked in confusion, her head still 
spinning from the recent beating. 

"Don't play dumb, nigger!" Watson snarled angrily, "Ever' nigger wench 
learns how to suck cock afore she's out of grade school!" 

"What? No ... no, please," she begged tearfully, "I... I!ve never done ... 
that before." 

"Bullshit!" Watson scoffed. "You tellin' me you never gave head to that buck 
Bobby Lee?" 

"No, I swear!" she vowed hopelessly, "We ... I mean ... I never ..." 

"That's a bunch of crap, and you know it," the deputy growled. "Now you open 
that mouth or I'll open it for ya!" 

As Watson spoke, he swung his hips forward, causing the blunt tip of his 
cock to nudge against Maisie Dixon's full young lips. A teardrop of seminal 
fluid had gathered at the slit of his purple cock head, and he smeared it 
now across the black girl's lips and onto her cheek. The hand behind her 
head tightened into an iron vise upon her skull, while he used the other to 
massage his turgid penis back and forth across the young woman's mouth and 
face. She cringed with revulsion at the unwelcome contact with his penile 
flesh, but his grip on her head prevented her from twisting away. She 
clenched her teeth tightly and fought to keep her moist lips together while 
Watson tormented her, his labored breath coming in deeper gasps now as his 
excitement increased. 

After a long moment, Watson's hand left his fat cock and seized the young 
black girl's lower jaw. Cursing softly under his breath, the deputy dug his 
thumb cruelly into the soft underside of her jaw, causing her to open her 
mouth wide in a gasp of pain. Satisfied with the result, he held her pinned 
there, as his voice cracked out like a gunshot in the grim stillness of the 
padded cell. 

"You hold them lips open, wench," he ordered, punctuating his words with a 
savage gouge of his thumb against her jaw, "or I'll yank 'em offa your black 
face for ya! And don't even think about sinkin' them teeth into me, less'n 
you wanna die quick!" 

Never doubting that the brutal officer would kill her without hesitation, 
Maisie Dixon ceased her feeble struggles, and let her lower jaw go slack. 
Immediately, she felt the first experimental probing of Watson's bloated 
cock head between her moist lips. The young woman fought down a spasm of 
nausea at the loathsome intrusion, almost gagging as the pole of male flesh 
wormed its way ever deeper into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. 

Watson released his breath in a long whistling sigh as Maisie's tongue gave 
an involuntary twitch, lapping unexpectedly along the underside of his 
flaring cock head. 

"Yeah! Yeah!" the klansman whooped delightedly. "Use that tongue on my 
cock!!" 

Afraid to ignore his instructions, Maisie hesitantly allowed her tongue to 
curl upward, flicking the pink tip along the thick vein beneath his swollen 
penis. His hips jerked forward spasmodically, almost choking her as his cock 
rammed another inch deeper into her mouth. Fighting for breath, she 
swallowed quickly, driving Tag Watson wild with the furious sucking motions 
of her mouth and throat. Maisie could feel his cock jerk against the roof of 
her mouth, growing rapidly in length and width under the moist caress of her 
little tongue. The klansman's fingers knotted tightly in her hair, pulling 
her face tight against his loins as he drove the head of his cock deep into 
her throat, the tip rubbing lewdly against her palate. 

Maisie Dixon felt as if she would surely suffocate with the fat tube of male 
flesh blocking her mouth and throat. Her saliva mingled wetly with the 
seminal fluid leaking from the wide tip of the invading penis, drooling from 
the corners of her mouth and over her chin in narrow trickles. Suddenly, 
surprisingly, the black girl found that she could breathe more easily as her 
throat muscles relaxed to accommodate the presence of Tag Watson's fleshy 
member. Almost against her own will, her tongue slid expertly along the 
shaft of 

Tag Watson's penis, surprised by the not unpleasant salty taste of his firm 
genital flesh. 

Maisie had always balked when Bobby Lee had urged her to perform fellatio 
upon him during their bouts of lovemaking. She had steadfastly resisted his 
efforts to subject her to what she regarded as base sexual perversion. She 
was thus shocked and horrified to find the taste of a man's cock not only 
tolerable but mildly pleasant, and doubly humiliated to find herself sucking 
off one of the men most probably responsible for the death of her young 
lover! Swallowing her abject shame, Maisie Dixon consoled herself with the 
knowledge that she had no choice, she was completely at the mercy of her 
cruel tormentors, with no option but complete obedience to their perverse 
orders. 

So telling herself, Maisie subconsciously applied a greater suction pressure 
to Tag Watson's trembling penis, provoking a head-to-toe shiver from the 
enraptured klansman. Watson began to rock slowly on the balls of his feet, 
slowly fucking his cock in and out of the black girl's clasping oral cavity. 
Her brown cheeks hollowed on the outstrokes, and bulged as he returned his 
penis forcefully to the warm sheath of her throat. Unconsciously, Maisie 
began rocking back and forth on her haunches, matching the swinging rhythm 
of Tag Watson's pistoning cock as it sluiced in and out of her mouth. A warm 
tingle sparked between her tightly clenched young thighs at the thought of 
the lewd spectacle she must be presenting to the other klansmen in the room. 
She could feel her nipples quiver into instant hardness in sympathetic 
response to the lewd mental image. 

Tag Watson was groaning loudly as he surrendered himself to the churning 
sensations in his enflamed groin. His heavy testicles tightened into an 
aching knot and his buttocks tensed as he felt the approach of impending 
orgasm. Fingers clenched in Maisie Dixon's curly black hair, he worked her 
head back and forth more rapidly in syncopated response to the fucking 
motion of his own driving hips. The girl's moist tongue darted in a feverish 
accompaniment to his thrusts, hollowing into a receptive trough on the 
inward strokes, and swirling rapidly about the warm tip as he withdrew for 
another stroke. The back of her narrow throat acted as a substitute cervix, 
cushioning the main force of his fucking motions. 

The first tremor of orgasm overtook Tag Watson in mid-stroke, causing him to 
flex his hairy thighs and pound his hips forward, buffeting her young face 
with his flailing pelvis. The deputy cried out hoarsely, proclaiming his 
sensual release to the ears of his victim and his fellow klansmen alike. 

"AAAUUUGGGHHH!!!" he groaned loudly, pumping wildly with his hips as he 
embarked on the roller coaster ride to sensual ecstasy. "SHE'S MILKING MEEEH 
III'MMM CCCUUUMMMIII-NNNGGGH!" 

Watson's cock suddenly bulged in young Maisie's tender mouth, as the heated 
flood of semen racing along his penile rod from his churning testicles. She 
sought to twist aside and avoid taking his viscous load in her mouth, but 
his hands held her immoveable as he wildly pummeled her throat with his 
savage blows. She felt her gorge rising as the first scalding droplets of 
sperm splattered against her palate, and was quickly followed by what felt 
like gallons of creamy cum. Her cheeks bulged as he filled her mouth to 
overflowing with his thick semen. Twin white rivulets trickled from the 
corners of her pouting lips, before she began to swallow his salty load in 
an automatic reflex, to prevent choking. It felt as if his ejaculation would 
never end, and she battled to keep pace with his spurting injections, 
swallowing great gulps of the milky fluid between hasty breaths. 

Seconds seemed to merge into hours as Deputy Tag Watson emptied his cum into 
the hungry receptacle of Maisie Dixon's mouth. When at last her clasping 
throat had wrung the final drops of sperm from his quivering piston rod, Tag 
stepped away from her, shoving her roughly so that she fell backward to the 
floor of the cell. Maisie pulled her knees up to her breasts, curling into a 
fetal ball and clenching her thighs tightly In an effort to quench the 
unwelcome sensations stirring there in her tiny cunt. A shameful tremor of 
response had flared deep in the heart of her recently-violated young pussy 
as she was subjected to the outrageous and perverted oral fucking of Tag 
Watson. She fought desperately now to suppress those involuntary quivers of 
sensual excitement torturing her loins, praying silently that her bodily 
yearnings would not further disgrace and humiliate her in front of her 
sadistic captors. 

Maisie Dixon was startled out of her private thoughts by the touch of a 
man's hand upon her naked shoulder. Looking fearfully up from the floor, she 
saw two naked klansmen standing over her, one on either side of her nude and 
trembling young body. She recognized the two men without knowing their 
names, retailing their eager participation in brutal assaults upon civil 
rights marchers in the town square. She shivered inwardly as the pair of men 
regarded her unemotionally through identical sets of steely blue eyes. 

Jeb Carter and Deke Franklin were similar in stature and appearance. The two 
men were longtime friends, who had worked together in the construction 
industry for years, and joined the Klan together when it was organized in 
Brown County two years earlier. They were known about Serenity as men who 
went everywhere, did and shared everything together. It now became apparent 
to Maisie Dixon that they also intended to share in whatever defilement they 
had planned for her defenseless and trembling young body. Speaking casually, 
as if unconscious of anyone else being present in the room, the two men 
began to debate their options in attacking the captive Negro girl. 

"How ya think we oughta tackle this?" one of the men asked quizzically of 
the other. 

"I dunno, Deke," the other replied thoughtfully, adding after a pause, "it 
appears to me the wench's got more than one hole 'vailable for use!" 

"Yes indeed, brother Jeb," Deke Franklin responded with a lecherous chuckle, 
"I do believe you done hit the nail on the head, for a fact!" 

The two men pounced upon her as one, Franklin pinning her wrists with his 
big hands while Carter grasped her around the ankles. They dropped to their 
knees on either side of her quaking body, holding her on her left side while 
twisting her torso slightly, thereby displaying her taut young breasts and 
the furry mound of her pussy to best advantage. She sought to escape their 
hold, but to no avail; she was pinioned and helpless as she writhed before 
them on the floor, a naked living toy for their cruel amusement. 

Each man easily held her limbs with one hand, leaving each a hand free with 
which to explore the hills and valleys of Maisie's dark young body. Deke 
Franklin, holding her wrists, let his other hand wander searchingly across 
the firm young mounds of her breasts. His blunt fingers toyed idly with her 
already distended nipples, tweaking the hardened little buds and scratching 
idly around the crinkled brown aureoles. Maisie moaned softly as his massage 
became more forceful, his hand kneading her breast flesh vigorously until 
her tits tingled with the rough handling. At the same time, Jeb Carter's 
free hand was stroking the gentle swell of her young belly, his fingertips 
trailing into the fringes of her pussy hair. Maisie squirmed and ground her 
hips into the padding of the floor while she clenched her thighs in a vain 
effort to elude the probing fingers. 

It was finally becoming clear to the dazed young woman that these two men 
intended somehow to possess her simultaneously. But how? she asked herself, 
surely such a thing is impossible! She was jarred out of her mental dialogue 
by the intrusion of a male finger between her pouting little pussy lips, 
nudging against the super-sensitive node of her clitoris. Her supple young 
body stiffened, and she forced her firm thighs even tighter together in a 
last-ditch attempt to ward off the impending sexual assault. Her efforts 
backfired, however, as she succeeded only in trapping Jeb Carter's hand snug 
against the hairy mound of her vagina. The man had only to wriggle his 
fingertips slightly to strum the delicate bud of her clit, while stimulating 
the entire slit of her palpitating pussy. 

"Which side you fancy, brother Deke?" Carter asked, still rotating his 
fingers along her moistening cuntal furrow. 

"One's bout as good as another, I reckon," Deke Franklin replied casually. 
"Guess I'll take the back." 

The men shifted their positions rapidly, even as Maisie Dixon's mind 
struggled to comprehend the full significance of their off-hand discussion. 
She suddenly found herself sandwiched between their nude bodies, with one 
man on either side. Deke Franklin lay in front of Maisie, his hairy chest 
rubbing roughly against her distended nipples while the stiff rod of his 
heavy cock probed the softness of her lower belly. Behind her, she could 
feel Jeb Carter's hard nakedness pressing against her spine, his turgid 
penile shaft nestled in the deep valley be- tween her plump buttocks. Their 
hands crept over her young nudity like grotesque spiders while they rubbed 
her smooth body with theirs in undulating, suggestive motions. 

"Don't fret, gal," Carter whispered hoarsely from behind her, his breath hot 
on the soft flesh behind her ear, "Me'n Deke's shared women before, an' we 
know jest how ta do it!" 

Even as he spoke, Maisie Dixon felt the two cocks probing her body as one. 
The tip of Franklin's cock jabbed insistently at her throbbing anus, already 
once violated on this night of supreme degradation. At the same instant, the 
flaring head of Jeb Carter's penis poked urgently at the tiny mouth of her 
cuntal orifice, smearing her slit with the thick fluid of his seminal 
excretion. His lips captured hers in a fierce and demanding kiss, while his 
partner's mouth fastened leachlike on the firm young flesh of her shoulder 
blade. Maisie struggled weakly, but found herself unable to move more than a 
few inches in any direction, while her motions served only to further 
inflame the passions of her latest assailants. 

A sudden spasm of pain shook young Maisie Dixon as Deke Franklin's rigid 
cock inched its way into the elastic ring of her tiny anus. But the earlier 
cruel ass-fucking by Pooney Thompson had at least partially prepared her for 
the latest invasion of her once-virginal rectum. She consciously sought to 
relax her anal sphincter, disturbed once more by the faint stirrings of 
forbidden desire as Franklin began to plunder her luscious ass with long, 
smooth strokes. Unconsciously, she dug her fingernails into Jeb Carter's 
shoulders, as a faint moan escaped from her throat. 

Mistaking Maisie's motion for unrestrained sexual ardor, klansman Jeb Carter 
chose that moment to thrust his cock deep into her poised young vagina. 
Entering her loins without preliminary foreplay, Carter buried his penis to 
the hilt in the black girl's moistened cunt. The resulting sensation was 
incredible, unlike anything young Maisie Dixon had experienced or imagined 
in her short life. Both her anus and her vaginal canal were filled to the 
bursting point with the matched pair of pistoning cocks. Maisie could feel 
the twin shafts rubbing together through the thin membrane separating her 
two love tunnels. Deke Franklin and Jeb Carter were obviously accustomed to 
the technique, falling easily into a cooperative rhythm which allowed one to 
withdraw his organ from Maisie's quaking body as the other thrust powerfully 
into her. The men were breathing heavily with the effort of their strenuous 
fucking, pacing each other in a driving tempo of jarring blows which kept 
the young woman jiggling between them crazily, like some sort of animated 
rag doll. 

Deke Franklin's broad hands snaked around from behind Maisie to snare the 
full mounds of her straining breasts, twisting the swollen nipples until the 
black girl felt sure they would explode from a combination of pain and 
sexual tension. Simultaneously, Jeb Carter's clawed fingers seized Maisie's 
wiggling buttocks, prying them even wider apart as if to accommodate the 
plunging cock of his partner in the girl's dual defilement. Maisie 
suppressed a groan of sheer humiliation as the new sensations deep in her 
trembling belly signaled yet another betrayal of her grim determination by 
the omnipotent yearning of her woman's flesh. The groaning sounds in her 
throat were now altered subtly, changing by gradual degrees into mewling 
cries of barely restrained lust. 

As the fucking tempo of the two klansmen increased markedly, young Maisie 
Dixon was suddenly aware of a new addition to the lewd writhing threesome. A 
naked man was kneeling at her head, his stiffening penis mere inches from 
her perspiring face. Glancing fearfully up, she saw that the newcomer was 
none other than Jack Peters, her first attacker. His cock stiffened anew by 
the lustful scene before him on the floor of the cell, the klan leader had 
come forward to join once more in the degradation of the captive young 
woman. 

Tangling his fingers in Maisie Dixon's hair, Peters jerked her head roughly 
back so that she was facing him more directly. Leaning forward, he angled 
his pelvis downward to bring the head of his penis against the girl's full, 
moist lips. Deke Franklin and Jeb Carter gave no sign of noticing the 
intrusion, continuing their cooperative fucking thrusts unabated into the 
black girl's cunt and rectum. 

"Take it!" Peters ordered roughly. "Take it in your mouth!" Maisie Dixon 
hesitated briefly, until the broad tip of Jack Peters' penis nudged urgently 
against her slightly parted young lips. At that, already stimulated by the 
forceful double fucking she was then receiving, the black girl allowed her 
tongue to flick out experimentally against the underside of the klansman's 
hot cock head. She was rewarded by a spasmodic jerking of his erect penile 
flesh, and the faintly salty flavor of his pre-ejaculate fluid on her 
tongue. Holding her head firmly in his grasp, Peters slid his firm rod 
slowly into the widening tunnel of her mouth, exhaling his breath in a deep 
sigh of gratification as her tongue curled wetly about the width of his 
cock. Her earlier horror and revulsion at the very idea of oral sex had 
almost vanished, being gradually replaced by an erotic appreciation of 
sorts. 

The young woman was totally overwhelmed by the triple assault underway upon 
her naked body. Jeb Carter and Deke Franklin fucked into her asshole and 
cunt with strong alternating strokes, their coarse hands vigorously kneading 
her breasts and firm young buttocks. They seemed oblivious to the new 
intrusion as Jack Peters began skewering his penis in and out of Maisie's 
clasping oral cavity. Taken altogether, the multiple sensations wracking 
Maisie's nervous system were combining to drive her on toward the brink of 
shattering sexual release. Her firm young hips began to undulate rapidly as 
she sought to achieve a fucking rhythm accommodating to both of her 
ravishers at the same time, and her motions served to further incite their 
quick fucking strokes. Unable to voice her lust with Jack 

Peters' cock in her mouth, Maisie responded to the sensual fucking by 
swirling her tongue ever faster around the tip of the third klansman's 
expanding cock. His audible moan of pleasure assured her that her tactics 
were indeed successful. 

The four klansmen not participating in the group ravishment moved closer, 
huddled into a tight knot of incredulity as they watched the black girl's 
emotions run the full gamut from fear and disgust to undisguised sexual 
longing. Her motions now were those of grateful cooperation as she 
surrendered herself without reservation to the sensuous feelings sweeping 
through her violated young body. It was readily apparent to all observers 
that the members of the intertwined group on the floor were rapidly 
approaching a chain-reaction state of simultaneous orgasm. 

The four writhing figures existed in a universe of their own now, a totally 
erotic plane of consciousness unrelated and unaffected by earthly 
surroundings. And Maisie Dixon was the center of that universe, the living 
receptacle of the three men's hammering lust. The labored breathing from 
four pairs of lungs was loud in the small cell, as the tangled forms 
thrashed their way onward to fulfillment. 

Jeb Carter got there first, his oncoming orgasm signaled by the rapid 
expansion of his pumping cock within Maisie Dixon's tiny rectum. The 
klansman growled out his lust as his entire body stiffened, his cock 
plunging deep into the girl's asshole in one final thrust before the searing 
eruption of his seminal flood. The scalding onslaught brought on a 
corresponding tightening in Maisie's loins, trapping' Deke Franklin's 
pistoning rod in a hot velvety vise of vaginal flesh. The black girl's hips 
were pumping wildly now as she teetered on the brink of her own climax, her 
pussy muscles milking furiously at the trapped pole of male flesh. 

The constriction of the girl's cunt around his cock was enough to pull 
Franklin over the edge and into the whirlpool of orgasm. His hips slammed 
violently into Maisie's pelvis, his cock grinding against the blood-filled 
bulb of her clitoris as he buried it to the hilt in her tight pussy. She 
could feel his penis swell and lengthen, stretching the confines of her 
vagina still further as the viscous stream of cum spouted from the broad 
tip. The hot fluid splattered against the mouth of her cervix, touching off 
the initial tremors of her own climax deep in her churning young belly. She 
trembled violently with the onset of orgasm, stiffening from head to toe as 
shivers of mind-blowing sensual release streaked up her spine to explode in 
colored pinwheels at the base of her skull. 

Surrendering totally to the ecstasy of the moment, Maisie Dixon snaked her 
soft hands into Jack Peter's groin. The fingers of one hand curled about the 
base of his penis as it slid in and out of her eager young mouth, 
alternately squeezing and stroking the turgid shaft. At the same time,-her 
other hand reached between his thighs to cup the tightened sack of his 
scrotum, tickling his heavy balls with the teasing tips of her fingers. 
Maisie's cheeks hollowed as her mouth rapidly simulated the sucking rhythm 
of her clasping cunt, setting the klansman's penile flesh aquiver with 
tingling erotic sensation. Jack Peters quickly joined the others in the 
throes of orgasm, groaning aloud as his cock sluiced rapidly in and out of 
Maisie's ovaled lips. She swallowed rapidly in an effort to capture all his 
sperm, but there was too much, and rivulets of the white creamy fluid 
streaked her chin as it overflowed the narrow confines of her mouth. 

Maisie Dixon was totally spent as the three klansmen gradually withdrew 
their shrinking cock flesh from the openings of her ravished young body. She 
had never imagined such devastating and overwhelming erotic sensations as 
those which were even then racing through her body. It seemed as if her 
orgasmic spasms would never end, and even the rude withdrawal of the twin 
cocks from her cunt and rectum did nothing to abate the sensuous throbbing. 
Minutes seemed to merge into eternities as the blissful contractions of her 
young cunt sent tremors of ecstasy to every portion of her tingling body. At 
last she lay, gasping and spread-eagled, before the gaze of the assembled 
klansmen. 

One of the men had not yet approached her. The other men turned toward him 
now, and Maisie Dixon's eyes followed theirs to regard the man who would be 
her next attacker. He was tall, and appeared strong, though it was difficult 
to judge since he had removed only his hood and robe, remaining otherwise 
completely clothed. He was amazingly young, a handsome blond, with blue eyes 
narrowed now in an apparent mixture of fear and disgust. He seemed unusually 
pale, and when he ran one hand through his tousled hair, Maisie could 
actually see the fingers tremble slightly. The other klansmen also noticed 
his discomfort, and were baiting him with catcalls and crude directives. 

"Gwan, Ben, get a little while it's hot!" 

"Better catch her while ya can, brother!" 

"Jump in there, Ben! Nail her good!" 

The young klansman shook his head adamantly, forcing a small grin as he 
declined the "offers" of his brother klansmen. 

"I don't fancy any dark meat today, boys," he said apologetically, 
"leastways not sloppy left-overs!" 

"Oh, so you're particular, eh?" Hank Jeeters jeered. "Could it be ya just 
can't git it up?" 

The younger man took a menacing step forward, fists clenched and ready at 
his sides. 

"Watch your mouth, Jeeters," he warned angrily, "or you'll be pickin' up 
your teeth with two broken arms!" 

"I'll take a piece of that action!" Jeeters snarled, closing in on the 
younger man, until Jack Peters stepped between them. 

"Easy, boys, easy," the Imperial Wizard cautioned. "We've enough to do these 
days without fightin' each other on the side. Freeman's a new man on the 
squad. It takes time to acquire a taste for brown sugar!" 

"He needs to prove himself, anyhow!" Tag Watson put in, instinctively siding 
with Jeeters. 

"True enough," Peters added thoughtfully, pondering the matter as he dressed 
swiftly. Suddenly his face brightened, as he hit upon the apparently ideal 
solution. 

"We need to dispose of this wench pretty quick," he said quietly, so that 
Maisie had to strain her ears to catch the words, "Why not leave that little 
chore to young Ben here?" 

Maisie and Ben grasped the full meaning of the man's words at the same 
instant. The young black girl recoiled in terror at the pronouncement of her 
own death, but her cry of terror was nipped in the bud by a swift side kick 
from Jack Peters. She curled into a little ball on the floor of the cell, 
her ears ringing but alert to the continued conversation of the klansmen. It 
seemed that she had misjudged young Ben Freeman, from the tone of his 
response to Jack Peters' suggestion. 

"Sure, Jack," he agreed almost eagerly, "I'll take care of her for you! 
Don't worry about a damn thing!" 

"I won't Ben, I won't," the Wizard assured him. "I'll jest send Tag here 
along with ya to make sure you learn the ropes." 

Freeman balked at this suggestion, shrugging off the need for any assistance 
on his mission. "I can get by without anyone to hold my hand or wipe my 
nose, Jack!" he insisted. "If n you don't trust me, then I best not go 'long 
at all!" 

Peters looked first surprised, then pleased at the self-confidence of his 
youthful follower. "Awright, Ben, awright!" he beamed, "you jest handle it 
on your own, now, and see you get it right the first time!" 

"No sweat, Jack," Freeman assured the Imperial Wizard, calling out to the 
others, "Get her dressed, boys, and help me load her in my pickup." 

Tag Watson and Pooney Thompson sprang to the task at once, hoisting Maisie 
roughly up from the floor by her arms. Her jail dress lay in shreds where 
the klansmen had stripped it from her young body. Hank Jeeters was 
dispatched for another uniform, returning with it shortly as Maisie sagged 
in all her nakedness between the men who held her. Then, with rough 
"assistance" from the coarse hands of her captors, she was bundled into the 
shift dress and held upright while the loose garment was fastened about her 
young body. 

Cruel hands lifted her off her feet, hustling her out of the sound-proofed 
cell which had become her heaven and hell combined during the past few 
hours, and along the darkened hallway of the county jail. Maisie was groggy 
with lack of sleep and the sexual ordeal she had just passed through, but 
she was alert enough to recognize that she was being taken out the rear 
entrance of the jail building. 

The cool evening air brought Maisie back to a semblance of true 
consciousness, and she looked about her, finding herself held in the dark 
alley behind the county courthouse. Several cars were parked there, and she 
was now being forced along toward a battered old pickup truck with a gun 
rack in the back window. Young Ben Freeman held open the passenger's door, 
and Tag Watson shoved the girl ruthlessly into the cab of the truck. She 
vaguely heard the door slam and lock behind her, -but her head was already 
swimming with the pace of events about her, and she felt on the verge of 
losing consciousness. Maisie was barely aware of the fact that Ben Freeman 
was now in the pickup truck beside her, turning the ignition key and gunning 
the engine as he pulled out of the alley and onto the main street of 
Serenity. 

And then, the full realization of her situation came jarringly home to young 
Maisie Dixon's fuddled mind. Oh God! she thought, This man is taking me 
somewhere to... to... kill me!! The Klan is going to murder me just like 
they did Bobby Lee!!! 

The thought was simply too terrible for Maisie's brain to assimilate after 
the other shocks of the afternoon and evening. She felt herself slouching 
farther down into the seat of the truck, slipping mercifully into the swirl 
of blessed unconsciousness as the vehicle sped on into the night. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Maisie Dixon was awakened by the touch of a gentle hand upon her shoulder. 
Opening her eyes slowly, she was at first unable to recognize her 
surroundings. It took a long moment for her to recall the events of the day 
and evening, and then the entire chain of nightmaric incidents swept over 
her in a heartbreaking flood, bringing bitter tears to her young eyes. First 
there had been the funeral of her young lover, Bobby Lee Brown, followed by 
her own lewd submission to her own lecherous finger- fucking. Then followed 
quickly the painful memories of her arrest and imprisonment, and the 
multiple sexual assaults to which her ripe young body had been subjected by 
the lecherous klansmen. Oh my God! she thought, It's all true! Every bit of 
it!! 

A second gentle nudge at her shoulder brought the girl back to immediate 
reality. Her head snapped around, to face the young man in the seat beside 
her, and she noticed for the first time that the truck in which they sat was 
no longer moving. Her recollection of the terrible night was now complete. 
She sat in young Ben Freeman's pickup truck, alone and at the mercy of the 
very klansman who had sworn to kill her! She began to weep softly, trembling 
as she cast a sidelong glance at the man beside her. When at last he spoke, 
the softness of his voice was startling. 

"No need to fret, ma'am," he said in a reassuring tone, "I don't aim to do 
you no harm." 

Maisie could scarcely believe her sears. "But... but..." she spluttered, 
"you told them you would ... you would ... kill me." The last words were 
small and timid, almost a whisper. 

"Hell, I had to tell them that!" he answered, sounding indignant, "If n 
someone else'd taken you outta there, you'd be eatin' swamp mud this minute! 
I did it for your sake ... to... to make up for ..." he left the sentence 
hanging, unfinished. 

"Where are we?" she asked, looking outside the truck for the first time 
since regaining consciousness. 

"At my place," he answered, jerking his thumb toward a small cottage off to 
the left among some tall cypress trees. "I couldn't think of nowhere else to 
bring you right off. You need some cleanin' up afore you try to light out of 
town." , "Do you know who killed my man, Bobby Lee?" Maisie asked the young 
klansman point-blank. 

"Yes ma'am, I was there," he answered, rushing on to finish the sentence 
when he saw the mingled fright and anger in her eyes. "But I swear to God I 
never pulled a trigger. It was Jack Peters and Pooney Thompson what done it. 
Hank the jailer was drivin' the car." 

Maisie Dixon clenched her eyes tightly in an effort to hold back the 
hopeless, useless tears. A sob caught at her throat, and when Ben Freeman 
touched her shoulder again, she turned toward that human contact without a 
thought to the identity of the man himself. Putting one arm about her 
shoulders, Freeman led her from the battered old truck and along the stone 
path to his bungalow. They passed through that door, and Freeman locked it 
from the inside, pulling the window shades down before turning on a light. 

The house was small but clean, and Ben Freeman had achieved a neatness in 
his lodgings which few bachelors bother to seek. As she was examining the 
house, the young klansman was examining her. Despite his repugnance at what 
he had witnessed in the county jail, Ben Freeman had also been undeniably 
aroused at the sight of the young woman's ripe nakedness, and her heated 
response to the sexual assaults directed against her firm young body. He was 
even more conscious of her now, as she stood before him in the living room 
of his own home. She was naked underneath the clinging prison uniform, and 
the chafing of the rough denim material had once more brought her bruised 
nipples into full and very obvious erection. Watching her move across the 
room, shaky at first but with a native smoothness and grace, Ben Freeman 
felt his cock begin to stiffen with the first tremors of rising lust. 
Fighting to suppress the growing erotic interest, Ben crossed the room to 
help Maisie in her search for the bathroom. 

"Right this way, ma'am," he said gently, taking her by the arm and steering 
her toward the hallway and the bathroom beyond. The womanly smells of sweat 
and sex came to his nostrils in a heady brew, causing his cock to harden 
even more. "You'll find the shower and all right in here." 

He ushered her into the bathroom and closed the door quietly behind her. 
Alone for the first time since mid-afternoon, Maisie Dixon quickly stripped 
off the jail uniform, and stood before the bathroom mirror. Slowly she 
examined her own naked body, probing gently at the discolored areas bruised 
by her ruthless attackers. Her nipples were especially tender, and the 
lightest touch of her fingertips set the nerves of her sensitive breast 
flesh jangling. Exploring her smooth abdomen, she found other sore spots, 
discolored and aching from the multiple assaults she had suffered. Finally, 
her searching hands traced the furred mounds and valleys of her pu bic area, 
lightly stroking the throbbing lips of her violated little pussy. She cupped 
the area of her vagina with one soft hand, massaging gently to relieve the 
dull ache as she moved to the shower stall and reached inside. The hot water 
responded instantly to her touch on the knob, and she stepped into the 
shower with a sigh of relief. 

Leaning against the tile wall, Maisie gratefully allowed the steaming spray 
to wash over her as she slowly and carefully lathered her body. Beginning 
with her full round breasts, she rubbed the sensuous suds lingeringly across 
her ebony skin, relishing the cleansing tingle of the soap bubbles on her 
flesh. Her nipples stiffened immediately into total erection, while seeming 
to lose some of-their soreness under the soothing moist massage. Her hands 
trailed the soapy lather down across her flat belly, softly kneading the 
silky flesh with her fingertips. She took special care with her pussy mound, 
scrubbing the curly pubic hairs briskly with her soapy knuckles. She thrust 
her hips forward, spreading her full thighs wide apart to let the stream of 
water pummel her vaginal lips. The sudden pain caused her to wince briefly, 
but after mere seconds, she was overcome by a new and blessed sensation of 
cleanliness and relaxation. She allowed a sigh of contentment to slip from 
her lips as she slowly undulated her pelvis, making sure all portions of her 
pussy came under the soothing spray. 

For a moment it was as if Maisie Dixon was back in her own bathroom, in the 
little cabin she had shared with Bobby Lee. Her fingers began an unconscious 
circular massage of her vaginal lips, but Maisie suddenly stopped herself, 
shuddering as she remembered the consequences of her own lewd masturbation 
earlier that afternoon. Heaving a tired sigh of resignation, she stepped 
from the shower stall and briskly toweled herself dry, enjoying the mild 
roughness of the bathtowel on her newly-washed skin. 

Wrapping the towel tightly around her curvaceous young body, Maisie draped 
the denim jail dress over one arm, and opened the bathroom door. She looked 
both ways along the narrow hallway, but could see nothing of Ben Freeman 
anywhere. She crossed the hall on tip-toes, entering the open doorway of the 
room across from her, closing the door when she was inside. Looking around, 
she found herself in a neatly furnished bedroom, with a king-sized bed along 
one wall. She was in Ben Freeman's bedroom! The thought itself was the final 
straw for Maisie Dixon on this night of terror and humiliation. Sobbing 
bitterly, she threw herself face down on the large bed, burying her face in 
her folded arms. 

Standing in the kitchen, Ben Freeman heard the opening and closing of doors 
in the hallway. He walked slowly down the corridor, quickly finding that 
Maisie had left the bathroom. His ears picked up faint sobbing from behind 
the closed bedroom door, and he softly Crossed the corridor to press his ear 
against the door. Fearing that something serious might be wrong with the 
black girl after her ordeal at the jail, he turned the knob and slipped 
quietly into the dimly lit room. What he saw there caused him to pull up 
short in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. 

Maisie Dixon lay across his own bed, facing away from the doorway in which 
he stood. She was clad only in a yellow bath towel, the moist folds of which 
served to emphasize rather than conceal the round swell of her firm young 
asscheeks. The hem of the towel had hiked up over the lower curve of her 
dark buttocks, and from where he stood, Ben could clearly see the slit of 
her pussy and the single eye of her asshole, peeking through the soft curls 
of her pubic hair. He felt his cock stiffen involuntarily at the lascivious 
sight, prodding its tip against the coarse material of his denim pants. 
Fighting to overcome the lewd sensations rising in his own loins, Ben 
Freeman crossed the room and sat down beside her on the bed. 

Maisie was startled at Ben's appearance on the bed beside her. She glanced 
over her naked shoulder with tear-filled eyes, scanning his face fearfully 
for some visible hint of violent intentions. She was quite surprised to find 
only kindness and concern mirrored there, as he scrutinized her anxiously. 

"Wha ... what do you want?" she stammered. 

"I only want to help you," he assured the frightened young woman. "Maybe I 
can help you get away ... out of the county." 

"Why?" Maisie asked skeptically, her voice betraying traces of inbred 
bitterness. "Why should you want to do anything for me?" 

"I ... I can't take any more like what went on tonight," he explained 
quietly. "The Klan's done gone too far, killin' people and. . . and. . . the 
rest of it. I'm gettin' out before it's too late." 

"You mean .. . you'll really help me?" she asked in amazement, still unable 
to believe the evidence supplied by her ears. 

"I swear it," he promised, placing a comforting hand upon the black girl's 
naked shoulder. She seemed unaware of the contact, burying her face in her 
arms once more and bursting into wracking sobs. 

"Oh Bobby! Bobby Lee!" she wept, her shoulders shaking with the force of her 
sobs. 

Seeking to comfort her, Ben Freeman moved closer to Maisie on the bed, 
sliding one arm around her heaving shoulders. Words seemed inadequate in the 
face of her obvious grief, so he remained silent, hugging her tightly to 
provide some vestige of reassurance in her moment of need. And yet, despite 
her obvious vulnerability-or perhaps because of it-the young man had become 
acutely aware of Maisie as a woman. The feel of her naked flesh beneath his 
palm, and the clean fragrance of her just-washed hair and body combined to 
wreak havoc with his senses. He began to perspire heavily, and his penis 
quivered into instant erection as it nudged against the black girl's 
near-naked hip. 

Ben Freeman's eyes scanned Maisie's body as she lay beside him, barely 
covered by the yellow bath towel. The cloth had fallen away slightly from 
her side nearest him, and he was treated to the view of one firm young 
breast in profile. The supple breast flesh billowed slightly in time with 
her ragged breathing, as the towel slipped still farther from her prostrate 
form. Ben reached out his hand to adjust the material, but his nervous and 
fumbling efforts succeeded only in causing the towel to fall away completely 
from Maisie Dixon's nude body. The young klansman sucked in his breath in 
amazement at the display of luscious female flesh before him. After the 
ordeal at the jail, he was no stranger to the details of Maisie's form, but 
she appeared somehow different here beside him on the bed. His eyes devoured 
every delicious hill and valley of her succulent figure, as his tongue 
snaked out to noisily lick his lips. Almost unconsciously, he stretched out 
one hand, to trace the curvature of her graceful spine with his fingertips. 

Totally consumed with grief, Maisie Dixon at first failed to notice Ben 
Freeman's touch upon her flesh. Not until his searching fingers reached the 
upper cleft of her plump buttocks did she look up, startled and afraid, 
taken unaware by his sudden boldness. When she turned to face him and shake 
off his hand, she noticed for the first time that her naked body was no 
longer covered by the towel. Gasping, she twisted to grapple with the 
material, affording Ben Freeman a full view of her supple nude torso in the 
process. His eyes widened as her full breasts bobbled in his very face, her 
brown nipples coming erect and quivering at contact with the cool air in the 
bedroom. 

The bath towel was tangled beneath Maisie's hips, and she was struggling in 
vain to regain some vestige of modesty when Ben Freeman reached out a hand 
to stop her. She gasped anew at his gentle but firm grasp on her wrist, as 
he halted her ineffectual fumbling with the towel. 

"You shouldn't cover yourself," he said softly, timidly, almost whispering. 
"Your ... I mean .;. you're so so beautiful." 

Maisie Dixon was at a loss for words, stricken dumb by this unexpected 
compliment from the young klansman. She could only stare at him in amazement 
as he slowly released his grip on her wrist, and began sliding his fingers 
slowly, caressingly along the smooth flesh of her arm. Goosebumps erupted 
all over her body as his teasing hand reached her shoulder and began its 
torturous descent across the upper swell of her right breast. Maisie's ears 
began to ring, and she suddenly realized that she had been holding her 
breath in tense anticipation. She suddenly released the air in a whistling 
sigh as the hypnotic spell was momentarily broken. 

"PI ... please ..." she stammered awkwardly, "please don't hurt me!" 

Ben Freeman looked injured, and his hand stopped its progress as he replied, 
"I wouldn't never harm you, ma'am. It's just.. you're so ..." He left the 
sentence hanging, unfinished, as he lunged forward to cover Maisie's mouth 
with his own. 

Maisie Dixon was forced backward onto the mattress under the young man's 
weight as he mashed his lips against hers. His hand slid along to cup the 
fullness of her breast, centering the erect nipple in his coarse palm, and 
stimulating it with slow circular motions. His hot tongue slowly wormed its 
way between her lips and teeth, searching the cavern of her mouth until it 
made electric contact with her own tongue. Dancing and fencing like a living 
flame, his tongue beckoned hers into responsive counterstrokes, building a 
crescendo of erotic sensation in Maisie's mouth and tightened throat. 
Against her own wishes, she could feel her passion mounting as his tongue 
assaulted her mouth and his hand continued its sensual massage of her 
captive breast. The flesh of her smooth little belly fluttered involuntarily 
with tremors of awakening desire that flared in her loins and spread outward 
to the extremities of her writhing body. 

After a long moment, Ben Freeman broke the deep soul kiss, to leave Maisie 
gasping and weak. His moist lips and darting tongue traced a wet path along 
her throat and down across her chest, seeking and finding the mound of her 
heaving young breast. Cupping the throbbing breast flesh with his hand, he 
pushed the straining nipple up to meet his lips. The tip of his tongue 
lapped out to circle wetly about the crinkled areola of her nipple but, 
sparking terrific jolts of erotic sensation from her tight little breast 
tip. Now his tongue was teasing the nipple itself, flicking rapidly back and 
forth across the berrylike bud in buzz-saw fashion, causing Maisie to arch 
her spine and twist her shouldrs as she sought feebly to evade the 
Klansman's maddening mouth. She pushed weakly at his broad shoulders, but 
abandoned the half-hearted effort as the blazing sensations in her breast 
and loins blossomed to consume her being and her soul. 

An erotic eternity slipped by before Ben Freeman released her nipple from 
between his teeth. His mouth moved moistly across her chest, planting 
nibbling little kisses in the valley between her tits, then moving slowly up 
the inner slope of her other breast. He captured the still-wet right nipple 
between his thumb and forefinger, tweaking it maddeningly as his teeth and 
lips snared the left one in a velvet vise. An audible groan of mingled 
pleasure and frustration slipped from Maisie Dixon's lips as she undulated 
on the mattress of the king-sized bed. The suction cup of his mouth fastened 
upon her aching nipple while the tip of his tongue lashed the hardened tip 
with feverish rapidity. Maisie was gasping and weak when Ben Freeman 
withdrew his face from her breast, to gaze down at her helpless, panting 
form. 

Springing up from the bed, Ben Freeman quickly stripped off his clothing, 
and soon stood naked before the prostrate young woman. Peeking through 
slitted eyelids, Maisie was startled and a little frightened at the imposing 
size of the white man's erect penis. My God! she exclaimed to herself in 
surprise, It's even bigger than Bobby Lee's! She could not take her eyes 
from the stout shaft which protruded like an erotic javelin from Ben 
Freeman's crop of curly pubic hair. She was hypnotized by the sight, as a 
bird may be hypnotized by a serpent about to strike. Almost unconsciously 
she lifted one hand from the mattress, reaching timidly out until her 
fingertips made contact with the flaring head of his powerful cock. 

Ben Freeman began to tremble as the black girl's delicate fingers encircled 
the swollen shaft of his manhood. She began to caress his rigid prick with 
lingering, feathery strokes, gently rolling back the foreskin to expose the 
purplish tip. The flaring, cobralike head seemed to throb before her very 
eyes, while a milky drop of viscous semen materialized along the tight slit 
in the bulbous tip. Turning slightly, Maisie reached forward with her other 
hand to cup the heavy twin pendulums of Freeman's lust-swollen testicles as 
they dangled between his hairy thighs. Her massaging of his pulsing organ 
became more forceful as she sensed his uncontrollable response. The veins of 
Ben's cock were gorged with blood, and throbbing strongly against the warm 
palm of Maisie Dixon's caressing hand. 

Inspired by a curious mixture of passion and sympathy for this man who had 
unexpectedly befriended her, Maisie sat up on the mattres, facing the rod of 
flesh jutting from his loins. Dipping her head forward, she flicked her pink 
tongue tip out to hip at the droplet of cum suspended from his cock head. 
Ben Freeman gasped aloud as the hot, moist tongue made electrifying contact 
with the satiny flesh of his glans. Maisie could feel his entire body 
stiffen and tense as her tongue made tight, teasing circles around the 
throbbing penile head, leaving it slick and glistening with her saliva. One 
hand con- tinued to gently knead his balls, while the other slipped around 
to cup the taut muscles of his ass-cheeks. 

Ben Freeman could hardly breathe, so tight were the muscles of his chest and 
throat. The incredible sensations emanating from his cock and balls were 
driving him to a fever pitch of desire. The light touch of her fingertips on 
his nuts and along the cleft of his asscheeks was almost enough to send him 
over the brink to orgasm. The tendons in his thighs stood out like steel 
cables as Ben tensed his legs, rocking easily back and forth on the balls of 
his feet in time with the sucking rhythm of Maisie Dixon's mouth. He seemed 
intent on fucking into her moist oral cavity as if it were actually her 
tight little vagina. 

Releasing Ben Freeman's heavy testicles for the moment, Maisie brought both 
hands into play upon his firm buttocks. Her mouth slid along the side of his 
tumescent penis, smothering the slick shaft with little nibbling kisses, 
while her hands massaged his twin asscheeks. Her fingertips slipped into the 
tight crack of Ben's ass, working their way along the narrow slit until they 
made contact with the tiny puckered ring of his anus. Freeman let out a gasp 
at the surprising touch, involuntarily jerking his pelvis forward so that 
his cock buried itself another full inch in Maisie's warm mouth. She mouthed 
it hungrily, laving the swollen shaft with her hot tongue as her fingers 
gently circled and probed Ben's rubbery asshole. For one hesitant moment her 
middle finger was poised over the mouth of his crinkled anus, and then, in 
one swift movement, it plunged deep inside, burying itself to the second 
knuckle. 

Ben Freeman cried out at the sudden and painful intrusion of his virginal 
anus, but the sensation quickly melted into one of warm eroticism. Maisie 
began to work her invading finger inland out of Ben's asshole, in perfect 
rhythm with the engulfing motions of her moist mouth. With each inward 
stroke the young Klansman's pelvis lurched forward, threatening to choke 
Maisie with the thick rod of his genital flesh. The mutual fucking rhythm 
was inciting both of them to new heights of excitement. Maisie could feel a 
hot flame of sexual yearning kindled deep in her moistening cunt, sending 
shivers across her belly to the tingling nipples of her breasts. And Ben 
Freeman, by now totally surrendered to the erotic feelings consuming his 
lower torso, felt himself on the razor's edge of impending orgasm. 

Anxious to postpone his ultimate relief as long as possible before the final 
explosion, Ben tangled his fingers in Maisie's dark hair and pulled her face 
reluctantly away from his loins. His long penis reappeared by inches, 
sliding from her clasping lips like a sword of flesh emerging from its warm 
sheath. With a thrust of his muscular arms, he pushed Maisie backward on the 
bed, her full breasts bobbing as her shoulders struck the firm mattress. Ben 
Freeman stood between the black girl's knees as her legs dangled over the 
edge of the mattress, raking her lush nudity with his slitted eyes. 

Groaning with barely suppressed lust, Freeman , scrambled onto the bed. He 
knelt above Maisie, with his knees straddling the firm swell of her full 
hips. His heavy scrotum grazed the satiny flesh of her lower belly as he 
towered over her, licking his lips in eager anticipation. At last, with a 
strangled cry, he threw himself forward, pinning her wrists to the mattress 
with his big hands while his mouth descended once more upon her straining 
breast mounds. He knawed almost violently at first one budding nipple and 
then the other, rewarded by Maisie Dixon's vocal cries of mingled pain and 
ecstasy. He inhaled great mouthfuls of tender breast flesh, mauling the 
succulent mammary tissue with his lips and teeth until his willing victim 
writhed helplessly beneath him. 

Working downward from the black girl's taut young breasts, Ben Freeman began 
sucking and licking a moist irregular path across the velvet plane of 
Maisie's stomach. The soft flesh of her body fluttered beneath the lewd 
ministrations of his slithering tongue. The girl's hips began an unconscious 
undulating motion, rubbing her pubic thatch against the underside of 
Freeman's scrotum as she arched her supple spine. She could feel the hot 
shaft of Ben's cock nestled against the flesh of her lower belly, its broad 
wet tip grazing the tiny indentation of her navel. She longed to feel that 
rigid pole of male flesh driving without mercy into the mouth of her hungry 
cunt. A small, pleasing whimper escaped from her throat as she ground her 
cuntal mound more forcefully against Ben Freeman's tightening balls. 

Pinning both of Maisie's slender wrists above her head with one hand, Ben 
quickly shifted position so that he was crouching between Maisie's 
widespread thighs. Holding her pinioned thus, Freeman reached down to stroke 
her pubic mound with his other hand. He parted her sensuous cuntal lips with 
two fingers, parting them to expose the moist interior of her vagina. He 
could clearly see the little bud of her clitoris, nestled in its sheath of 
skin just above the narrow mouth of her pussy. The erotically stimulating 
vista of female flesh displayed before him sparked a renewed fiery tingle 
deep in Ben Freeman's churning balls, and his penis gave an involuntary jump 
of repressed passion. Another thick droplet of semen materialized at the tip 
of his cock, smearing its wetness across Maisie's soft belly in abstract 
patterns. 

Grasping his penis in one hand, Ben Freeman drew the blunt head slowly and 
tauntingly down the length of the young woman's cuntal furrow. The fleeting 
contact of his cock flesh with the erect node of her clit caused Maisie to 
stiffen into instant rigidity, a small cry of passion slipping from her 
throat. The broad glans of the man's prick nosed maddeningly along the 
girl's steaming pussy slit, pausing to provoke her vaginal mouth into 
clasping spasms with an experimental jab. Maisie Dixon was whimpering openly 
now, mewling out weak pleas for the long-sought sexual relief that she 
craved. 

"Oh, please," she begged tearfully, gasping for breath even as she spoke, 
"don't tease me!" 

"Hush now!" Ben Freeman ordered, "you'll get what comin' to ya ... in due 
time!" 

With that, Ben dropped his fingers to the tiny mouth of Maisie's yearning 
cunt. Droplets of her feminine lubricant had collected along the pouting 
lips of her pussy, and glistened like miniature pearls in the dark forest of 
her pubic hair. He moistened his fingertips at the well of her womanhood, 
smearing the secretions of her sex around her pussy with teasing massaging 
motions of his hand. He grasped the nub of her clitoris between his thumb 
and forefinger, tweaking and pinching it until Maisie writhed and moaned in 
a state of erotic frenzy. Her hips rotated upward off the mattress, her 
pussy seeking even greater contact with Ben Freeman's caressing hand. He 
taunted and teased her deliberately, stroking the moist flesh of her cunt as 
lightly as possible, stimulating her to a fever pitch while denying her the 
total release which she craved. Finally, as her pelvis jerked upward in an 
irregular spastic rhythm, Ben plunged his long middle finger deep into the 
sucking portal of Maisie's tight little cunt. 

Taken completely by surprise, Maisie arched her spine and cried out loudly 
in gratitude and relief. She frantically ground her loins against Ben's 
palm, using her cuntal muscles to clasp and hold as much as possible of the 
young man's invading finger. He began to rotate the massaging digit, 
scouring the interior walls of her pussy in a lewd reaming motion. His broad 
thumb circled the erect bud of her clit at the same time, doubling the 
erotic sensations even then exploding in her steaming cunt. His stiffened 
finger sluiced in and out of Maisie's hot vagina, pumping ever faster in 
response to her fucking motions and strangled cries of pleasure. When he 
suddenly whipped his hand away from her writhing loins, Maisie Dixon gasped 
with anxiety and frustration, her pussy elevated several inches from the 
mattress and rotating in empty air. 

"Wha ... what ... what are you doing?" she asked whiningly, an unspoken plea 
for fulfillment in her voice. 

Without a word, Ben Freeman shifted positions on the bed, poising his face 
directly over the gently undulating mound of Maisie Dixon's genitals. 
Raising her head, she glanced down between the swelling mounds of her firm 
breasts to where Ben hovered above her loins. Her woman's sixth sense told 
her what was coming, and yet she was somewhat surprised when Ben dipped his 
face forward to kiss the swollen lips of her waiting cunt. He kissed her 
lightly at first, his warm lips barely brushing the wet lips of her pussy. 
Then, after a second of delay, his tongue flicked out to gently part those 
nether lips, lapping at the fountain of her femininity. It was all the black 
girl could do to restrain herself from screaming out the intense pleasure 
which she felt. 

Ben's mouth began to attack her secret genitals more forcefully as he sensed 
her vibrant response. His tongue slithered along her vaginal slit, flicking 
across the hardened node of her clit, then darting into the clasping mouth 
of her vagina itself. A storm of varying sensations assailed Maisie's 
jumbled young consciousness as Ben switched his technique with every few 
strokes. First his tongue was furled and stiffened, rasping across her 
cuntal flanges like a miniature penis, and then suddenly it was wide and 
soft, caressing her entire pussy with loving feathery strokes. Circling, 
stabbing, licking, his tongue danced along the moist valley of her pussy, 
stimulating the young woman to a frenzy of erotic desire. 

After long, torturous moments of tantalizing oral massage, Ben began sucking 
at Maisie's cuntal flesh with real gusto. He seized a mouthful of her moist 
genital meat, pinching it between his teeth while his tongue whipped her 
jangling nerves into a sensuous frenzy. Alternately sucking and gnawing, he 
continued to work Maisie's pussy over with his teeth and tongue until she 
writhed helplessly on the mattress beneath him, sobbing with mingled pain 
and ecstasy. 

"Oh God, yes!" Maisie wailed, almost hysterically, "Go on! Just like that!! 
SSSUUUCCCKKK MMMEEE!!" 

Ben Freeman complied with her moaning request, redoubling his oral assault 
upon the widespread plain of Maisie's private genitals. A deep growl rose in 
his impassioned throat, tingling Maisie's pussy lips as it rumbled from his 
lips. Her clawed fingers tangled in his blond hair, pressing his active 
mouth tighter against her aching cunt. At the same time, hr firm thighs came 
up on either side of his head, trapping him there in a sensuous head- lock, 
pinning his mouth against the hungry portal of her vagina to ensure 
continued contact with his darting tongue. Maisie frantically ground her 
tight buttocks into the mattress and gritted her teeth as she was driven 
relentlessly on toward the eventual goal of mind-shattering sexual release. 
Her entire body was enveloped with a bizarre but pleasant sensation of 
weightlessness and floating, and her entire universe was centered around the 
darting tongue tickling her eager young cunt. 

After what may have been minutes or hours, Ben Freeman suddenly rose to his 
knees again, freeing himself from the young woman's clinging grasp. For a 
moment he stroked the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs with his hands, 
turning a deaf ear to her mumbled pleas for a resumption of his lewd tongue 
fucking. Placing a firm hand behind each knee, he levered her legs out and 
upward, pressing her knees backward until they brushed against the erect 
nipples of her firm breasts. In that position the entire plain of her loins 
was totally exposed to the young klansman's lecherous gaze, from the 
crinkled ring of her anus to the moist slit of her hungry little cunt. 
Freeman gasped and noisily licked his lips at the sight of so much 
femininity displayed before him, his for the taking. 

Guiding his rigid penis with one hand, Ben drew the bulbous glans slowly 
along the furrow of Maisie's crotch from clit to asshole. Maisie ground her 
teeth together furiously, sobbing out her sexual frustration as tears of 
restrained lust streaked her smooth cheeks. Her entire torso was seized with 
a spastic tremblings as Ben's chafing cock head drove her trembling cunt 
into convulsions of passion. Looming over her, Ben could see the tight ring 
of her cuntal orifice opening and closing like a ravenous mouth. He circled 
that sexual portal with the purplish glans of his cock, jangling the warning 
bells of imminent orgasm in Maisie Dixon's brain. He used his heated cock 
head to trace ovals and figure-eight designs along either side of her open 
vagina. The young woman felt as if she would swoon under the assault of the 
powerful sensations sweeping her mind and body. 

Withdrawing his turgid penis from contact with Maisie's cunt, Ben Freeman 
sat back on his haunches to watch her anxious reaction. Her eyes snapped 
open as she felt the sudden emptiness and absence of his probing penile 
shaft. Groaning with frustrated lust, she extended both arms in unmistakable 
invitations, parting her thighs still farther at the same time. 

"Oh, please, Ben," she implored, almost sobbing with the intensity of her 
passion, "please... I need you now!" 

"What do you need, Maisie?" he asked, a taunting tone in his self-assured 
voice. 

"You ... you know," she stammered, inwardly flushed with embarrassment. 

"If you want it, you have to tell me!" he ordered with mock gruffness. 

"I ... I... want your cock in me!!" she finally cried out, in desperation. 

'That's better!" he gloated, filled with self- satisfaction. 

Lowering his hips slightly, he returned his throbbing penis to contact with 
Maisie Dixon's palpitating young vagina. A gasping sigh of blessed relief 
slipped from her throat at the fulfilling reunion of their private genitals. 
His purplish cock head nosed demandingly against the rubbery opening of her 
innermost vagina, forcibly widening the narrow orifice of her cuntal canal. 
He slowly pressed forward with his pelvis, forcing the first swollen inch of 
his male shaft into the moist confines of that snug-fitting love tunnel. He 
let out a sigh of carnal contentment as his flaring glans was clasped and 
massaged by the hungry, grinding internal muscles of the black girl's pussy. 

Maisie Dixon was in an agony of desire as Ben held his penis still and 
rigid, with only the first inch buried in her yearning little cunt. She 
simply had to have it all! She couldn't live another second without his 
thick penis filling every inch of her vaginal barrel! Her entire world was 
centered on her groin, and the hot, pulsing rod of flesh between her thighs. 
Nothing mattered beyond her need to have the full length and width of Ben 
Freeman's prick inside her hungry young belly. 

Reaching down between her widespread thighs, Maisie Dixon grasped Ben's 
thick penis in her hand. Tugging frantically, as if his organ was a pump 
handle, she sought to draw him closer and stuff his cock deeper into her 
pussy. He braced his hands on the mattress, gritting his teeth as he 
withstood the milking manipulations of her soft hand. After long moments of 
almost painful self-restraint, he threw himself forward on top of the girl's 
heaving torso, fastening his mouth on the tip of one breast as he thrust 
forward mightily with his hips. His thick cock disappeared into Maisie's 
cunt with a wet slushing sound, and his heavy testicles swung forward to 
smack against the tight hemispheres of her buttocks. 

Maisie Dixon's entire body stiffened into instant rigidity with the 
pleasurable shock of Ben Freeman's cock invading her pussy. Her internal 
muscles began to dilate immediately in accommodation of the white man's pole 
of flesh. For a full minute he kept his cock perfectly still, until Maisie 
longed for further friction and stimulation. And then he began to jerk his 
penis spasmodically, without moving his hips in the slightest, setting the 
nerves of her vaginal canal on edge. And then, he slowly began to withdraw 
his shaft from her cunt, pulling the flesh of her internal pussy along with 
it. It felt to Maisie as if she were being pulled inside-out. And then, 
suddenly, Ben slammed his hips forward, once more burying his cock to the 
hilt in her steaming honey-pot. 

"Aaaauuuugggghhhh!!!" she cried out, "It's too big! I can't take all of 
it!!" 

Ben Freeman did not answer, letting the driving motions of his pelvis speak 
for him as he once more withdrew his cock and plunged it again into the 
tunnel of her cunt. At the same time, his rough tongue was tormenting her 
captive nipple bud, provoking a storm of tingling sensations in her firm 
breast. The combined effect of the dual assaults upon her body sent Maisie 
into paroxysms of passion. She began to move her hips in a cooperative 
rhythm, first slowly, and then quicker as she sought to match his own lewd 
rhythm. Her breath came in short, panting gasps as she exerted herself in a 
single-minded drive toward the blissful release of orgasm. 

Ben Freeman drew in deep breaths to fill his straining lungs, as he sought 
to pace himself in his deep fucking strokes. He was determined to exact 
every last instant of possible erotic sensation from the black girl writhing 
beneath his body. And so he matched the rising tempo of her hips, skewering 
his fleshy piston rod deep into the receptive chamber of her cunt. He could 
feel his scrotum tighten as they brushed against the dainty curls 
surrounding Maisie Dixon's tiny asshole. Reaching down between their driving 
bodies, he parted that silky hair with the probing tip of one index finger. 
Finding the crinkled ring of her anus, he circled it experimentally with the 
fingertip, noting the pleasureable reaction which raced across Maisie's 
perspiration-dampened face. Emboldened by this initial success, Ben probed 
more forcefully, working his finger into her clasping rectum up to the first 
knuckle. Maisie's eyes popped open with surprise, but she made no move to 
resist this latest invasion of her loins. Instead, she quickly covered his 
probing hand with one of hers, forcing the finger ever deeper into her 
once-virginal asshole, all the while mewling out little cries of sensual 
pleasure as she did so. 

"Oh, yes!" she wept, grinding her hips in a syncopated rhythm to accommodate 
both finger and cock at the same time, "Stick your finger in my asshole! 
Harder!!" 

Her lewd commands urged Ben Freeman on to even greater liberties with her 
body, and he buried his finger to the hilt with one powerful thrust. Maisie 
cried out briefly, then resumed her fucking undulations as her passion 
steadily mounted. Ben's teeth and tongue flitted rapidly from one straining 
nipple to the other and back again, leaving wet trails of nibbling kisses 
across her chest while her belly received his driving thrusts. She brought 
her thighs down to encircle the man's pumping hips, tightening her grip as 
she sought to hold his long cock within the confines of her pussy. She 
locked her ankles behind his ass, her heels digging into his buttocks to 
accentuate their mutual fucking tempo. 

The dual invasion of Maisie Dixon's loins was driving her inexorably on 
toward her own eagerly awaited orgasm. Ben Freeman's pistoning cock made 
chafing contact with her swollen clitoris, sending electric jolts of ecstasy 
to her extremities with each and every pelvic stroke. Probing her rubbery 
asshole with his finger, Ben could clearly feel his own cock sliding in and 
out of Maisie's pussy, separated from his hand only by a flimsy wall of 
delicate tissue. The strangely perverse sensation provoked Ben to an even 
more violent fucking of the black girl's hungry pussy, slamming his pelvis 
against her pubic bone even as his palm slapped wetly against her asscheeks. 

Maisie could feel the first pre-orgasmic tremors beginning in the pit of her 
heaving belly as Ben's double-fucking reached a fever pitch of speed and 
forcefulness. She began to stretch herself, pushing against his hips with 
her thighs as she arched her back, much like a cat enjoying being petted. 
Her fingernails dug into the knotted muscles of Ben Freeman's broad 
shoulders and she gritted her teeth in a veritable agony of erotic 
anticipation. Her asscheeks were tense into twin knots of quivering muscle 
as they bounced rapidly off the firm mattress of the king-sized bed. 

Ben Freeman's sliding cock produced ever greater volumes of seminal 
lubrication as it slipped quickly in and out of the black girl's juicy cunt. 
His viscous cum mingled wetly with Maisie's own female secretions while his 
pummeling penis hammered at her genital flesh. The broad tip of his cock 
head butted firmly against the sensitive mouth of the young woman's cervix 
with every cunt-splitting thrust, scooting her plump ass along the mattress 
a fraction of an inch at a time. Her brown little heels drummed against 
Ben's taut asscheeks, beating out a tattoo of unrestrained passion as Maisie 
surrendered every fiber of her being to the wild fucking she was receiving. 
Her eyes were tightly closed, and her head flailed from side to side in her 
ecstasy. 

The young klansman was totally lost in the crazy sensations wracking his 
muscular torso. He winced as Maisie Dixon's fingernails dug tiny livid 
furrows across the milky-white flesh of his back and shoulders, but the 
momentary discomfort was immediately submerged in the tidal wave of ecstasy 
radiating from his groin. It felt as if his entire cock was caught in the 
grip of a strong hand in a velvet glove, and that hand was milking his penis 
inexorably toward orgasm. Raising himself up on both hands, he glanced down 
the length of Maisie's brown torso to where their bodies were joined at the 
crotch. He was enthralled at the sight of their pubic curls mingling every 
time he thrust into her pussy. The enf lamed pink flesh of his penile shaft 
stood out in sharp contrast to the mahogany hues of the girl's own body. 

Inspired by the lewd sight of their torsos joined in sensuous fucking, Ben 
Freeman redoubled his efforts and the pace of his skewering thrusts. Maisie 
felt herself slipping over the fine line which divides sexual frustration 
and total fulfillment. The nagging pre-orgasmic tingle in her pumping loins 
exploded into a sensual fireball, which rapidly hurtled up her spine to the 
base of her skull, exploding there in glorious multi-colored pinwheels. 

"OOOHHH GGGOOODDD!!!" she wailed at the top of her lungs, lost in erotic 
reverie, "III'MMM CCCUUUMMMIIINNNGGG!!! 

Her cuntal convulsions caused the muscles of her vaginal channel to seize 
Ben Freeman's penis in a grip of steel. He gasped aloud as the tight sheath 
pulled relentlessly at his pulsing organ, coaxing the hot flood of semen 
from the churning pit of his balls as he labored above her sweating body. 
Finally, as if someone had thrown a master switch in the sexual control 
center of his brain, something snapped inside of him, and suddenly he was 
embarked on the endless roller-coaster ride of climax, pitching and rolling 
as he gave himself over totally to the shattering release flooding his 
senses. 

"SHIT! FUCK!!" he called out in his sweet suffering, "YOU'RE MAKING ME CUM! 
CHRIST!! AAAAUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH!!!!" 

The boiling stream of cum spurted forth from the slit in his swollen glans, 
splattering the mouth of Maisie Dixon's cervix with burning droplets of the 
viscous fluid. The searing impact of his semen upon the innermost portions 
of her body drove Maisie instantly into the throes of an unprecedented 
second orgasm, even more powerful and mind-blowing than the first. 

"Wha ... what? ... What's happening to me??" she moaned breathlessly as the 
second orgasmic explosion overtook her mind and body. "I'M 
CCCC-UUUUUUMMMMMMMIIIIIIIINNNNNNG I'M CUMING! 
AAAAAAGGGGGGGAAAAAA-IIIIIINNNNN!!!!" 

Her body writhed and pitched beneath Ben's like a sleek bronco's, 
challenging him to cling until the conclusion of the tumultuous ride. 
Seconds blurred into minutes, and minutes into eternities, as their 
quivering bodies strained against one another in a rigidity approaching 
rigor mortis. Finally, both spent, they collapsed together in a perspiring 
heap of exhaustion across the rumpled bed. Maisie Dixon could feel Ben 
Freeman's cock, already shriveling inside her relaxed cunt, and the crawly 
flood of his semen seeping from between her pussy lips to dampen the 
bedspread. The creeping wetness and cold set off tiny shivers throughout her 
torso, in miniscule imitation of the orgasmic hurricane she had just 
experienced. 

When he had gathered his breath and his senses, Ben Freeman slowly rolled 
off of Maisie's panting body and rose to his feet beside the bed. Glancing 
at the gleaming body of the black girl he had just fucked, he began dressing 
slowly in his work shirt and denim trousers. When he spoke at last, it was 
with obvious reluctance to disturb her resting. 

"Th ... thank you," he muttered, clearly unused to addressing those words to 
any person of another race. 

"Thank you ... Ben," Maisie responded, smiling gently as she spoke his name, 
her face assuring her, that everything was understood, all questions 
answered. 

"We have to see about getting you out of town before the other boys come 
a'lookin' " he said, his voice echoing a very real concern for the girl's 
well-being. 

"What can we do?" she asked timidly, reluctant to let the memories of her 
danger intrude on this little world of unexpected happiness. 

"I'll take you to the bus station," he answered. "There's still time to make 
the midnight bus north if we get a move on." 

Maisie knew that he was right. Her only chance of immediate survival lay in 
escape. She must put Serenity and Brown County behind her as quickly as 
possible, or else risk falling into the merciless hands of the klansmen once 
again. 

Rising from Ben Freeman's bed reluctantly, Maisie kissed her young savior 
lightly on the lips, and began dressing in silence. 

* * * 

The Serenity bus station was dimly lighted at that hour of the night, and 
Ben Freeman led Maisie into the waiting room unobserved. The balding clerk 
at the ticket window raised his eyebrows at the sight of the interracial 
couple, casting a dubious glance at Ben as he ordered the ticket. 

"You know this is a segregated station, mister?" he inquired gruffly. 
"Niggers got to wait on the bench outside." 

"This is serious business!" Ben snapped in reply, flashing his Klan 
membership card before the older man's startled eyes. "I got no time for 
bullshit, grandpa! Jack Peters wants this gal outta town, and I mean right 
now!" 

At that, the ticket clerk was silent, lowering his eyes as he finished 
punching out the tickets to Freeman's order. 

The dirty bus was waiting when they stepped out of the station into the 
night. As they stood beside the gray metal monster, Maisie Dixon turned to 
Ben Freeman with tears in the corners of her eyes. 

"I ... I ... don't know how to thank you," she stammered, "for ... saving my 
life, I mean." 

"No thanks asked or needed, ma'am," he replied, a faint smile playing across 
his solemn and youthful face. 

"Well," she sighed, glancing toward the bus, and the impatient driver framed 
in the doorway, "I guess this is goodbye." 

"More like hello, Maisie," he answered with a broadening grin, as he plucked 
a second bus ticket from his jacket and held it up before her eyes. 

"You mean ... you're going along with me?" she asked incredulously, unable 
to believe her new good fortune. 

"It appears I got no choice," he said. "Nobody crosses Jack Peterson in this 
county and lives long to boast about it. It's time I was movin' along." 

"But ... won't they come after us?" she asked fearfully. 

"Maybe," he conceded, "but Peters is a big fish in a little pond down here, 
and he ain't got all that many friends anywhere else ... in or out of the 
Klan. Besides, by the time they get through huntin' around for the two of 
us, we should be well beyond his stretch." 

"Ben," she spoke hesitantly now, carefully choosing her every word, 
"about... what happened ... in your bedroom ..." 

"We needed each other than, Maisie," he put in, "and we still do. When we 
get north... well... why don't we just wait and see?" 

And so saying, he took her by the arm and led her onto the waiting bus. The 
driver glared briefly as they sat down in the same seat together, but one 
clear glance at the determination on Ben Freeman's young face convinced him 
to mind his own business. 

He started the engine, and pointed his vehicle toward the city limits of 
Serenity. 

Relaxing in the double seat beside Ben, Maisie Dixon's mind was assailed by 
a storm of thoughts as she watched the little town disappear a block at a 
time. She was heading north into the unknown, but it mattered little, for 
she knew what she was leaving behind: an evil climate heavy with bigotry, 
fear, and suspicion. Nothing that lay ahead could be any worse. And what of 
her new-found white lover, dozing in the seat beside her? If things worked 
out, so be it! And if not? Well, they were both young, in a world of young 
ideas, and if she gained nothing more from her relationship with young Ben 
Freeman, she had at least learned an important lesson regarding white 
people. Not all were of the same low, evil class as Jack Peters and his 
leering followers. A world of new, bright people and dreams lay ahead of 
Maisie. Her long night of terror had ended, and a bright new future had just 
begun! 


THE END
