The Sadistic Stepfather
by Edward Mitchell


INTRODUCTION 

The incidence of incest in the United States is an upwardly creeping 
statistic. What kind of perverted individual would deliberately molest his 
own daughter, we scream in outrage. 

The statistics are startling. Most fathers had limited sexual experience 
prior to marriage and a goodly percentage were stepfathers. The stage is set 
at an early age. Often the girl is approached sexually as early as three 
years of age and a horrifying percentage of daughters are raped before the 
onset of puberty. 

The actors in this obscene scenario, the lustful protagonists, are not 
solely male. 

Indeed, a majority of men who rape their offspring are encouraged by their 
wives (in subtle and often unconscious ways) to relate to the daughter as 
the woman of the household. Marital strife, spite, interests outside of the 
home are common rationalizations for a wife to relinquish household duties 
to the adolescent girl, thus throwing the daughter into a wifely role which 
naturally carries sexual overtones... considering that the ultimate wifely 
responsibility is to satisfy her husband sexually. 

In this The Sadistic Stepfather Edward Mitchell's story of a seventeen 
year-old girl, molested by her stepfather, we come to understand the trauma 
of her decision of whether or not to report her stepfather to the police. 
Could she suffer the guilt and humiliation of facing her mother after having 
made love to her mother's husband and enjoyed the act of sexual union which 
should have been held sacred? 

The erotic content of this novel is only the stage for deeper controversies 
dealing with the shockingly common and increasingly popular leniency toward 
family incest. We the publishers are pleased to present this sociological 
and timely novel to its faithful readers. 


CHAPTER ONE 

Kim Jacobs felt her throat constrict and the familiar trapped, panicky 
feeling that the world was closing in on her sent a flush to her satiny 
cheeks. The anxiety-provoking feeling that she could not get outside of 
herself to objectively assess the situation brought tears to her wide 
emerald eyes. 

Separating the Venetian blinds, she blinked away the wetness and stared out 
over the football field behind Jasper High School where afternoon football 
practice was in full swing. Girlfriends of the players ringed the bleachers, 
cheering on their young men. Kim was no part of it. 

If life was this complicated at seventeen years of age, image what was in 
store for her at age twenty-one! 

Behind her, making up the sick cot, the school health nurse, Lorraine 
Saunders, gazed sympathetically at the young blonde's pathetically stoic 
face. The minor complaint that sent her to the sick room was common 
enough--severe uterine cramps accompanying her menstrual period. Upon a 
cursory examination, Nurse Saunders had discovered, to her dismay, the 
premature signs of emotional stress: high blood pressure, heart palpitations 
and a pervasive nervousness. The girl had been sick to her stomach once, but 
refused to be sent home--a total reversal of the typical teenage response to 
being let out of school for the afternoon. 

"Is there any reason you don't want to go home, Kim?" she asked carefully, 
tucking in the corners of the blanket. 

Kim swiveled around from the window and glanced apprehensively at the kindly 
face, then reached down to smooth the wrinkles from her skirt, mussed from a 
two hour nap. 

Now she couldn't raise her eyes to meet Miss Saunders'. What could she say? 
How could she express the fear that... that what? That she knew, intuitively 
felt, that it would be better if she stayed here at school until her 
stepbrother want home too. "My... my stepfather's at home... and he's not 
feeling very well," she stammered at last. 

"Is he really sick? I mean certainly your mother will be taking care of 
him...." 

"My mother's not home," said Kim wretchedly, lowering her wide green eyes 
once more, her dimpled chin quivering. 

"But if you go right to bed--and you should--you won't disturb your 
stepfather." 

Kim bit her lip to control her roiling emotions. "Well... he... he sometimes 
drinks too much and he... I would just rather stay here until Carl's done 
with football practice," she mumbled at last. 

Lorraine Saunders straightened and drew a deep sigh. There was no more to 
ask; she knew the answers, could fill in the blanks by replacing names and 
addresses though, in the end, the story was the same. 

Stepfathers were notorious child abusers, and add alcoholism to the 
description and you have a blatant case of incest. Such unnatural, 
licentious lust revolted the nurse, but what could she do single-handedly? 
The girl was not of age and exposure of her suspicions to welfare 
authorities could bring a lawsuit down on the school if her suspicions 
proved wrong. 

Nurse Saunders felt her nostrils flare with rage. A drunken sex-maniac of a 
stepfather. A hung-over ruin of a man, peeping and pinching, waiting for a 
chance to debase his wife's own flesh and blood. Where was the girl's 
mother... ? What kind of a mother was Mrs. Jacobs to leave her daughter in 
the custody of a sex offender? 

"Are you afraid of your stepfather?" she asked gently, cocking her head to 
one side and studying the girl's expression intently. "Has he ever... done 
anything to you?" 

Abruptly the tears overflowed Kim's eyes and rolled down her high cheekboned 
features. "No... he's never done anything... not yet--" She broke off in 
mid-sentence, glancing into the knowing eyes of the nurse who could read her 
thoughts more aptly than she could express them--even to herself. Again Kim 
turned to stare out the window and across the parking lot to the football 
field where the coach had the boys involved in a series of calisthenics. Her 
eyes desperately searched out her stepbrother's lanky six-foot two inch 
frame. "Just go ahead and go home, Miss Saunders. I don't mind staying here 
by myself," she said dully. 

"That's okay, Kim. I won't lock up until after football practice. Go ahead 
and lie down on the cot. I've changed the sheets." 

Kim's mind was a maelstrom of emotions and fears too adult for her seventeen 
year-old experience. Timidly, she sat down on the edge of the cot and 
slipped off her shoes. How had Miss Saunders known what was on her mind? How 
could she possibly have known? 

Maybe she was creating her own fears... maybe her stepfather wasn't thinking 
those awful sex thoughts she accused him of thinking behind that leering, 
hungry smirk. Gosh, Mom, she thought, why did you have to go to see Grandma 
now? 

* * * 

Carl Sanchez, eighteen years-old and brawny, emerged from the locker room, 
his long muscular legs carrying him quickly through the gymnasium and out 
the back exit to the parking lot where his Kawasaki motorcycle sat under a 
tree. Broad shouldered and hard muscled, he carried the enviable title of 
high school jock. Football, basketball, track... he competed in all 
athletics and won, perhaps because he had some of his father's zesty spirit, 
that Chicano machismo that refused to take second place to anybody. 

He'd been in his share of locker room brawls and before the head coach 
discovered his involvement, he'd ridden with a motorcycle gang from the 
other side of town. Yet underneath that hard shell of sinew and meat, he 
possessed a heart of gold-- especially when it came to his stepsister Kim. 

In long legged strides, he reached his motorcycle, kicked it off the stand 
and swung one hard-muscled thigh, taut in faded denims, over the seat. He 
revved up the motor, clouds of blue smoke spitting out behind him. It 
sputtered and ground as he sped out the parking lot and along the broad, 
tree-lined avenue, barred now with lacy shadows in the evening sunlight, his 
long hair streaming in the wind. Instantly he spotted her ahead of him on 
the sidewalk. 

He would recognize her anywhere... the long blonde hair with the slightest 
hint of wave, the slender waist, the provocative sway to her ass cheeks as 
she walked in her platform shoes. But it was those long, lanky legs that 
marked his stepsister. Pulling up alongside her, he stopped and grinned. 

"Hey, you want a ride, sis?" 

Kim Jacobs smiled with relief. "I was wondering where you were. I... I'm not 
feeling too good, I thought I was going to have to walk home alone." 

Gingerly, she climbed behind him, straddling the seat and hiking up her 
skirt to expose her firm, tanned thighs, silken as stockings. Carl caught 
his breath. His stepsister was the foxiest chick in the Junior class, and he 
wasn't the only guy on the football team who thought so. 

For two years now she had been his stepsister; they shared no common blood, 
were strangers thrown together, for all practical purposes. Difficult 
indeed, for a hot-blooded boy in his sexual prime to regard her as a 
relative... living in the same house! Often he found himself flirting with 
her, and had seen her in various stages of undress. Last week he'd caught 
her stepping out of her panties when he burst into the bathroom without 
knocking. She'd screamed at him, covering herself with a towel, but not 
before he got a good peek at her full, milky breasts with their puffy pink 
nipples and the honeyed patch of her pubis. 

Kim slung her arms around his waist, hugging his back and mashing her 
breasts against him, feeling a sense of security being in her stepbrother's 
company. He protected her like the real brother she never had, let none of 
his friends take advantage of her, treated her sometimes as if he were 
actually dating her. 

Steering with one hand, Carl let the other drop to her dimpled knee and then 
ride a short distance up the smooth column of her satiny thigh. Annoyed, Kim 
slapped his hand away, cringing inwardly at the, suggestiveness of his 
touch. It unnerved her sometimes (times like now when he treated her like a 
sex object) how closely he resembled his father. The large hands and swarthy 
complexion, the dark eyes that snapped with mischief. 

"Stop it, Carl," she shouted above the engine, putting her mouth to his ear 
to make herself heard. 

"You got foxy legs... I can't help it!" 

"Keep your hands to yourself... stepbrother!" 

"Now you sound like your old lady." 

"And you're acting like your father!" 

Carl didn't like the insinuation of that accusation one bit! George Sanchez 
was a womanizer of the rarest breed, which had caused his first wife to 
leave him years ago. 

Continual sexual frustration led him to drink--that and the dissipation of 
his Latino orchestra which led him to find other employment... very 
unhappily. Now at forty-two years of age the man found his pleasures 
dwindling and with male menopause beginning to set in and he could not cope 
without the bottle and a few tawdry vices. 

"I'll be outta that house in a coupla months...." Kim's mood plunged. With 
Carl gone, 2242 Windsor would be a veritable hell hole--she and her mother 
and a drunken, dirty old man! 

Turning onto their street, Carl rocketed up the driveway and parked the 
bike. Kim clambered off, her cramps eased by two aspirin Miss Saunders had 
insisted she take. For a moment she stared at the two story frame house--at 
the unmown front yard and the bags of garbage propped up against the house. 
Everything here was in a state of neglect, an adjective that could aptly 
describe the temperament of the household as well. She sensed a feeling of 
neglect, desertion when her mother, in an angry fit, threw her belongings 
into a suitcase and headed for the train station and Atlanta to her mother's 
house. A big row had sparked it off, and nothing had been the same since. 

Kim passed through the living room where her step father sat glassy-eyed 
nursing a beer in front of the television set. He was slumped heavily in the 
chair, wearing a pair of baggy suit pants and sleeveless T-shirt, tufts of 
black hair sticking out around the hard muscle of each arm. He wiggled his 
stocking feet and turned to stare at her. 

She shivered. Kim grunted a hurried greeting and whisked through the room, 
his eyes roving over her body as she scurried for her bedroom that opened 
off the dining room. The door slammed behind her. 

Out in the living room, Carl was headed the other direction--to his back 
room over the porch, a small makeshift room barely large enough for his 
seldom-used student desk and a single bed. It smelled of incense, a 
diversionary tactic to camouflage the smell of marijuana that he smoked to 
take him high above the sordid realities of life. He stretched out on the 
bed, his long legs crisscrossed, hands behind his head and stared at the 
poster hanging on the wall. The Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders winked down at 
him in glossy color, their melonous breasts oozing out and above the front 
tie of their skimpy tops. 

Man, to play pro ball and hang around chicks like that! That's what he 
wanted out of life. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

George had gone out. Drinking with his buddies down at the Horse Shoe Club, 
Kim supposed. His drinking had been a crux of disruption and it left Kim 
with an edgy feeling in the pit of her empty young belly. He would return 
drunk and disorderly, no doubt. 

Stealthily, she peeked through the bedroom door to see the television set 
was still on, the living room littered with yesterdays newspapers and 
crinkled beer cans. The man couldn't have always been this indigent, she 
supposed, or her mother wouldn't have married him. Something had turned 
sour. That saddened her. 

With one eye on the television set, Kim went about her after school chores, 
washing the dishes and vacuuming the living room floor. To have her mother 
gone left her with a gnawing sense of insecurity, though deep down inside 
she realized the situation was temporary. Certainly her mother would never 
pack up and leave her alone to take care of that horrid man! All this grief, 
thought the young girl, because of that stupid war in Vietnam that took her 
fathers life. 

George Sanchez would never be her father! He was but a dirty old man who 
looked at her in a bothersome way--as if he was mentally undressing her, his 
alcohol-lidded eyes following her every movement, devouring her every 
seventeen year-old contour, and she knew instinctively that it couldn't be 
normal or right for a step father to show this kind of interest in his 
wife's daughter. To him she was a sex object to be exploited. On one 
occasion, George (as she preferred to call him) stumbled accidentally into 
the bathroom, his dark eyes sweeping hungrily over her naked young body 
before he excused himself and turned for the door. That it should be 
necessary to lock the bathroom door to keep out her step brother and step 
father was an outrage; yet she had resorted to it. 

Languidly Kim slipped out of her jeans and T-shirt and drew a warm, soothing 
bath. This was the best time of the day, lolling in the bathtub with bubbles 
lapping at her dimpled chin and day dreaming about the freedom of leaving 
this shabby dump and going to Hollywood or New York where people had manners 
and dressed nicely. 

Testing the tepid water with pink polished fingertips, Kim caught her 
reflection in the steamed up mirror and wiped a spot clear. The maturity of 
the adolescent smiling back at her was pleasing. 

Running her hands over her satin smooth skin, she cupped the rounded swells 
of her lushly ripening, high-set breasts, rolling the erect buds of her 
nipples between her fingers until they crinkly pinkly, the warm flush of 
tumescence spreading through her like warm sunshine--the feeling of needing 
human warmth, compassion, of wanting to be close to somebody... her real 
father. 

It confused her a bit that times like this when she wanted to be held, it 
was the image of her real father, Lieutenant Ralph P. Jacobs, a tall, lanky 
blue-eyed blonde haired gentleman that came to mind. With painful and 
frustrated longing, that image dissipated like an evaporating cloud, and 
replacing it was the dark haired dare-devil by the name of Carl Sanchez. He 
was her protector now, her confidant. 

With an effort of will, she shoved aside those aching feelings and 
concentrated on other things. Her period had stopped, she was happy to see, 
and her tummy felt fine after the nap she'd taken. 

The mechanics of sex were not foreign to Kim; Jasper High School offered a 
very explicit sex education course which her mother had consented her 
daughter take, though Kim possessed no burning curiosity of such base 
things. She had refused to wear a boy's ring because that implied petting, 
heavy petting, which of course led to sexual intercourse and unwanted 
pregnancies and a host of complications. Living with George Sanchez was 
confusing and complicated enough without inviting more trouble into her 
life! 

But there had been one guy... a friend of Carl's whom she'd dated around 
prom time last school year. She remembered with an embarrassed blush, as she 
lolled in the bathwater, slapping her legs to create bubbly waves that 
lapped at the nape of her neck. She had swept her hair up into a ponytail to 
keep it dry and the feel of warm water on her neck was wonderfully relaxing, 
relaxing enough to allow those memories to sweep back. 

Larry Baker had bought her a yellow rose wrist corsage for the prom. After 
the dance and dinner, he had parked the car on a deserted street while she 
allowed him a few kisses and hugs. He deserved it, didn't he, after spending 
a fortune on her? As the car radio blasted out a disco beat, his kisses 
became more probing, his tongue tantalizingly sweet and demanding in her 
mouth. Then, before she could twist free, his hands were on her breasts, 
dipping into the loose bodice of her formal, working at the back zipper and 
easing the bodice down over her breasts until her nipples spiked out beneath 
the ministrations of his fingers caressing the smoothness of the two heaving 
mounds. A warm glow suffused her body and for that one time she did not stop 
him, didn't want to stop him. She felt very adult, dressed in her crisp 
yellow formal, wearing her mother's fine jewelry and smelling the rose 
corsage a man had given her. 

His warm mouth trailed down her neck to the cleft between her naked 
breasts--and then, drawing the stiff edges of the bodice aside, he claimed 
the tenderly budding nubs with his warm, tantalizing lips. Kim's heart 
pounded from the deliciousness of it! 

Yet the moral dictates of fear screamed inside Kim that it was wrong. "No, 
Larry," she mumbled feebly. "Please... we can't do this!" 

The boy muffled her protests with his nibbling mouth, plastering it to hers 
as he kissed her deeply, slipping his tongue far back into her throat until 
it sent shivers down her goosebumped spine and his hands smoothed across her 
flat belly to arrive finally at the pulsing mound between her legs, which he 
caressed through her dress. Slightly annoyed when she pushed him away, his 
actions became more insistent. His hands delved below her stiff skirt, 
moving up her trembling inner thigh against the rising wetness of her 
panties, one anarchistic finger probing through the filmy nylon crotchband 
of her bikini panties for the hardening nub of her clitoris, forested by the 
honeyed fringes of her cunt. His finger played there teasingly while the 
adult sensations of desire flooded through her loins, weakening her 
objections until at last, with a throaty groan, she surrendered--this once. 

It was a clash of mind versus body; but it was the body that was feeling the 
ecstasy and need of release, and so what right had the mind to refuse when 
it felt no pain... no longing, no need for fulfillment. Rational was but a 
bystander, watching her body play the sex game. Rebelliously, her hips began 
to grind uncontrollably in tiny, undulant movements up against her date's 
lewdly stroking finger, trying with each hip-flexing movement to drive the 
surrogate source of relief a bit deeper into the crying hole of her vagina. 

Panting, he wrenched aside the wispy strip of nylon shielding the hot, hairy 
warmth between her legs, his stiff middle finger teasing in and out of the 
tight, never-used virginal lips with a warm, sticky gush. "Oh, Larry... 
no... stop- doing that! I might--" 

"Might what? Cum...?" 

"I've... I've never done that," she faltered. 

"You're ready to any minute. God, you're wet!" Pushing up the mounds of 
yellow net and taffeta, his hungry hands crawled higher up under her skirt; 
he grasped the waistband of her lace-trimmed bikinis and hauled them down to 
her knees. Unconsciously, Kim shifted her weight to help, easing her 
buttocks off the crinkling plastic car seat until he could pull them down 
her thighs. He wormed a warm finger into the viscous moistness of her pussy 
again, drawing it along the hotly throbbing furrow until he touched the 
pulsating miniature bud nestling above. Kim sucked in her breath and 
wriggled from the electric contact, the sensitive nerve ends sizzling as if 
desire had short circuited somewhere. She needed more of his finger! 

Larry, sensing his date's weakening defenses, brought all his guns into 
play. One hand stroked ever faster into the warm juicy folds of her seething 
pussy while the other squeezed and kneaded the smooth, taut flesh of one 
lushly developing breast. His knee grazed up and down the softness of her 
inner thigh, and his mouth sucked and nibbled at her lips, her neck, bathing 
her ear around the gold jewelry dangling from it... then down to the erect 
nubs of her nipples. He had covered the ground... now it was up to Kim. 

Kim felt as if her flesh and sinew had turned to butter. Her body went wild. 
Her hips thrashed frantically back and forth, countering the stroking 
motions of his finger in her cunt. Her lips nibbled at his lips; her voice 
tailing off into a moan mewling moan like the cry, of a small, hungry 
kitten. 

What was happening to her body? It was as if a foreign being within her 
soul- had taken control. 

She jerked convulsively, hips flexing faster and grinding up off the car 
seat, her belly shuddering uncontrollably as the sex-raw sensations raced 
through her like thunderbolts... and suddenly it burst! Kim recognized the 
new thrilling, shattering experience of orgasm when it hit! Surging tides of 
rapture and light sprinkled ecstasy rained down over her flickering eyelids. 
As if from a distance she heard her own voice cry: "Oh, oh, oh, oh, 
Larrrrrrreeeeee! I'm cum-ming! Aggggghhhh!" 

Wave after sloshing wave of euphoric delight washed over her until finally 
she collapsed in the boy's arms and he kissed her tenderly. "Liked that, 
huh?" 

"Oh, gee, did I ever!" She drew a long sigh. 

For a moment, she rested her head back on his shoulder, taking deep breaths 
to calm her rapacious heartbeat and collect her ragged thoughts. Using a 
finger for stimulation and ultimate release had been termed masturbation in 
her sex education class and though Miss Saunders, the school nurse, had not 
said it was wrong, Kim did not feel proud of herself for having succumbed. 

Then his fingers laced around hers, gently guiding her shaking hand to the 
zipper of his rented tuxedo. "Now you can take care of me...." 

"T-take care of y-you?" What did he mean by that? 

A He reached down, unzipped his pants and hauled out his redly throbbing, 
fully erect eighteen year-old penis. Kim looked away in embarrassment, 
dragging her eyes from the throbbing hunk of male flesh with its mushroomed 
head glistening with seminal juices welling from the rubbery tip. She had, 
on a few occasions, seen her stepbrother's by mistake, but his wasn't long 
and hard like this; his had been soft and wrinkled. 

"Here, let me put your hand on it," he said. 

"M-my hand?" 

"Come on, don't play the dumb blonde broad! You're going to jack me off... 
like I did for you." Before she could offer a protest, he took her 
unresisting hand and placed it on the hard rod, wrapping her tiny fingers 
around its chunky girth. "Now move your hand up and down so the skin pulls 
back... like this... and keep doing that until I cum." He kept his hand on 
hers and demonstrated. 

At the first contact with her fingers, Kim tried to jerk away, and as her 
hand unwillingly touched the genital flesh, she gasped aloud. "No, it feels 
so--so weird!" 

"Come off it! Either that or suck me off... I deserve something for spending 
all my bucks on you tonight." 

Kim couldn't refute that logic, yet the thought of putting her mouth on that 
ugly thing was detestable! She couldn't imagine anyone doing such a 
disgusting thing! 

His penis was warm and hard in the palm of her clammy fist. She could feel 
the heat it exuded through the tautly stretched skin of the throbbing shaft 
as she succumbed to his wishes, pumping her hand stiffly up and down as he 
had instructed. Her fingers only just met around the blood-swollen rod, and 
she wondered how such a massive spear of male flesh could ever worm its way 
into a girl's vagina. If he tried to put that in hers, it would rip her in 
half! 

But she didn't want to bring up the question for fear Larry might want to 
show her. Perhaps had he suggested it a few minutes ago, she might well have 
allowed it; the thought made her shudder and she clenched Larry tighter. 

"Holy shit!" he barked. "You tryin' to kill it? Let up a little... just move 
it nice and easy up and down... up and down...." Trying to follow his 
instructions like an obedient little girl, Kim felt his penis pulse and jerk 
in her hand, and somehow she experienced a thrill at the visible response to 
her ministrations. Was that all it took? Some indefinable feeling of erotic 
stimulation coursed through her young veins and she sensed the power, the 
animal fury, in that male organ that was independent of Larry, as it 
responded to her lightened touch. His cock expanded and throbbed under her 
fingers, its heat seeming to increase with the friction as she milked the 
stiffened shaft, little dribbles of pre-cum wetting her fingers as she 
worked. The tip of her pink tongue stuck out between her teeth as she pumped 
it. 

Now his hips were undulating, jerking up and down to meet the movement of 
her hand, fucking into her fist with a jackhammering fury. He moved faster 
and faster, the sticky pre-cum oozing from the tip. Now she could no longer 
keep up with him. Holding her hand almost immobile, she squeezed his penis 
hard and, wincing, closed her eyes and waited for it to erupt. 

Handkerchief in hand, hovering just over the blood-engorged head of his 
racing cock, Larry groaned a deep, animalish grunt. He must be very near, 
she thought, marveling at the realization that she was actually the one who 
was making him orgasm. All that throbbing power in her tiny, trembling hand! 
Suddenly, Larry hissed through clenched teeth, and Kim could feel the hard 
rod of flesh in her grasp begin a spasmodic, staccato jerking, pumping its 
steaming seed through the tumescent tube of his cock and into the wadded 
handkerchief. 

In the darkness she could not see it spurting thick and potent from the tip 
of the dilated slit. But some of the scalding fluid escaped and percolated 
through her clenched fingers, and she could smell the pungent male odor of 
him in the close-windowed car. It smelled slightly like the Ajax that she 
used to clean the kitchen sink with. 

... and the remembrance of the surprise she had felt in that feeling of knew 
knowledge stayed with her until she slipped into a nightie and crawled 
between the sheets, exhausted and relaxed. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

"Helen, why are you doing this to me?" George Sanchez dug his fingers into 
the pay telephone coin return slot and slammed the receiver back on the hook 
with a clank that turned heads along the Horse Shoe club bar. "The fucking 
bitch won't even talk to me," he grumbled, tossing himself down on the bar 
stool and clamping his mustached lips over the rim of the beer mug. 

Pedro, the ex-drummer for the Latin Lovers, George's group, slapped his 
colleague on the back consolingly. "Got woman problems?" 

George buried his face in his hands and shook his head. "She won't make love 
to me, she won't talk to me... now she's two hundred miles away!" He threw 
up his hands. 

Since the break up of his band, his life had crumbled. First the record 
contract fell through because of the new disco rage and now his wife had 
left him--and wouldn't discuss reconciliation. He had met Helen when he was 
playing at a benefit for wives of POWs; she had fallen for his swarthy 
compassion, his genteel manner, his fast-working hands. 

George took a long swill of his beer and slammed the empty glass down on the 
bar top, gesturing to the bartender for a refill. "Stupid situation. Like a 
fool," he said, spreading his hands, "I say one night... Helen, your 
daughter is getting to be a nice looking little lady... getting curves in 
the right places, letting her blonde hair grow nice and long. You know what 
she'd get on a street corner in Mexico City?" He tutted. "She accused me of 
wanting to make it with her kid instead of her. She's jealous of her own 
daughter... what can a man do?" He downed the next drink in three swills. "I 
was just tryin' to be honest... just trying to be honest...." Pedro twirled 
his moustache, reading the signs of distress in his friend's voice. "First 
mistake you made, pal, was tryin' to be honest with your wife. Women don't 
want their old man to be honest... they wanna be flattered and fucked." 

"Yours maybe, mine, no!" He scratched his chin, cogitating the wisdom of 
those words. "Could be you're right... but I can't fuck a woman two hundred 
miles away." 

Then... 

His nostrils smelled her before their eyes locked. She was a pale skinned 
beauty in a red dress, sitting two bar stools away and smoking French-style 
on a femininely slim cigarette. One hand was perched on an out-thrust hip, 
stockinged legs scissored over each other, dress pulled up to above her 
stocking tops to expose a long strand of lacey garter whose intimacy every 
man in the bar coveted. The woman was shameless and cheap... the kind of 
woman George needed now! Nervously he twitched at his moustache, a slow grin 
growing over his swarthy features. A rumble thundered through his gonads. 

Their eye contact was intense. But first, he needed a couple more beers. 

* * * 

The walls of 2242 Windsor were cardboard thin and intimacy even behind 
locked doors was impossible. For the past few years Kim had become 
accustomed to awakening in the night to the sound of the bed banging against 
the wall or to hushed voices cooing-- sometimes fighting. 

The phosphorescent hands of the clock were difficult to read through sleep 
blurred eyes... and why was she struggling to wake up? What was different 
about this particular night that compelled her to force alertness? 

She listened, emerald eyes flashing wide. Suddenly she bolted upright in 
bed. Her mother was in Atlanta--two hundred miles away; so who was her 
father making love to in her mother's bedroom? 

What kind of outrage was that dirty man bringing down on this house! 
Incensed with rage, Kim slipped out of bed and padded into the bathroom 
separating her room from her parents'. Her heart thumping in her chest, she 
stood in the dark with her ear pressed to the connecting door. 

"... it's twenty bucks for head and fifteen for a straight fuck... unless 
you want me in the ass... then it's another twenty-five. Take your pick... 
time's wastin', honey...." 

"Shit, that's thirty-five bills to catch a disease!" 

"I just got my shots!" snapped a female voice. 

"Ah... that's it honey... sure, I'll pay twenty bucks for lips like that... 
Ohhhh, Jesus, sugar mouth...!" 

Kim started, stifling a gasp of horror. What was going on? It didn't take 
long, however, to fill in the blanks, for in a few minutes the creak of 
bedsprings, the rustle of garments and sheets, grunting male breathing... 
and a low mewling feminine moan told her all she needed to know. Her 
stepfather was making love to another woman in her mother's bed! 

The eavesdropping teenager was thunderstruck, outraged, irate. Her mind 
reeled and she grasped the doorjamb to maintain her balance. Kim bit her 
lips to keep from crying out. 

Why had her mother married this dirty brute? Oh, God, were all men that 
insensitive... was this what she had to look forward to when she married? 
Her stepfather and another woman doing it... committing adultery in the 
family house! 

Tears streamed down her face as she listened and an overwhelming feeling of 
shame swept through her, as though she was somehow involved in the illicit, 
lewd actions. George was cheapening her mother's affections... cheapening 
everyone's association in the house! How could she feel close to Carl now... 
Carl who resembled his father in appearance and thought. Oh God, she 
couldn't tolerate much more emotional stress! 

For Kim the world stood still. This was the ultimate family disgrace. It had 
to be stopped... now! Breath snorting through uptilted, flaring nostrils, 
Kim's hand crept to the doorknob; she twisted it, praying that it would make 
no noise. The door opened a few inches and she advanced her eye to the 
crack, her heart pounding with fear. George might hit her for this! But 
somebody had to stand up for female rights here! 

A single glance into the dimly lit room was enough. Emerald eyes slanting 
with hurt and anger, she saw the two of them on the stripped down bed, the 
woman's bobbing blonde head working between Kim's stepfather's thighs, her 
mouth slipping over the swarthy nob of his penis while he wrapped his 
fingers in her hair and gritted his teeth, muttering encouragements in 
Spanish. 

The blood pounding in their temples, the distressed young girl watched the 
degrading scene in horrified fascination. She almost choked with revulsion 
when the woman reached down to knead George's testicles, then lick at their 
hairy sacs with long, wet slurps. 

The thought that George had ever forced her mother Helen into this degrading 
act was the catalyst that broke Kim's heart. Her chest torn by deep, muffled 
sobs, she reeled away to her own room and closed the door to blot out the 
memory of the scene she had witnessed. 

Sprawled full length on her bed, a corner of the pillow stuffed into her 
mouth to stifle her sobs of grief, she cried her heart out, wondering why 
her life had taken such a sour turn at this tender age of seventeen. 

Time passed and the night silenced. At last her emotional storm was over and 
she lay dry-eyed, staring into the dark when she heard Carl's Kawasaki 
crackling outside of her window. She listened as he parked the machine and 
heard his footsteps pass beneath her window as he walked around the side of 
the house to his sleeping room in the back. 

Carl! Carl was all the family left her now. That George was sleeping with 
other women must imply that her mother was never coming back. Oh, life was a 
dark experience for the blonde haired girl! She felt hatred, betrayal and 
contempt for the man who was supposed to replace her real father. Her 
youthful idealism had been shattered. She had to talk to Carl about 
this--perhaps he could give her the male side of this travesty! 

Her heart beating wildly, she tiptoed out of her room, through the living 
room and kitchen and up the creaking back steps. The thread of light shining 
under his door gave her hope. 

"Carl... ? It's me... Kim. Can I come in?" She sniffed, forcing stoicism. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Carl pretended not to hear her beckoning, buying time to hide the bag of 
marijuana he'd just copped over at Olie's Hamburger Stand. Unzipping his 
pants, he pulled the plastic baggie out of his crotch and dipped it into his 
rumpled underwear drawer, then opened the door. 

"Hey, Kim... what's up?" He saw her standing there, shivering in her thin, 
flowered nightdress, her face pale with strain. 

Brushing past him and into the room, his eyes followed her lithe 
honey-haired figure. Like his father, he was hot on blondes. Damn, that she 
was his sister! He eased the door shut, not wanting to awaken his father who 
would be angry with him for breaking training rules. Both of them had their 
hearts set on him playing pro ball... and if the old man knew about the 
dope... watch out!. 

Kim turned to face him, her quivering chin lifting to look into his face, 
ten inches towering above her. "I've got... to talk to you... I... I saw 
your father...." She choked, unable to continue, her voluptuous body swaying 
toward him for support. 

Instinctively he caught her in his arms, feeling her tremble like a leaf in 
a storm. For a tough little girl, she was awfully upset. "What's wrong, 
Kim?" he asked gently. But she burst into tears and buried her face in his 
football jersey. 

Carl held his stepsister close while she sobbed inconsolably. He stood 
awkwardly, his arms draped around her, not knowing what to do. Though she 
had been an aloft stepsister at first, he had proven his affection for her, 
both having been single children, and he knew she trusted him. He stroked 
her back, hoping that would stem the flood of tears, and as he did so his 
senses began to betray him. The supple, pliant flesh under the thin nylon of 
her nightgown was warm and smooth to the touch. His hand drifted down to the 
curving swell of her round, firm buttocks, feeling them silky under his 
hand. God! 

Carl gulped. His stepsister's body wasn't curvy from padded brassieres, 
judging from the weight he felt mashing against his chest. Never had he held 
her close like this before and the soft intimacy shot straight to his cock 
and jerked it upright in partial erection. It throbbed and jerked in the 
confines of his Levi's, and he decided it was wrong to be that close to her. 

"L-Let's sit down, Kim...." he murmured, his black eyes flashing. 

She nodded her head in agreement and together they sat down on the edge of 
the sagging single bed. He tried to pull away from her embrace, but she 
clung to him like a crying child. 

"Lay it on me, Kim... what's buggin' you?" 

Kim dabbed t her wide green eyes and drew a deep breath. Objectivity and 
reason had to be applied to this situation as one would apply it to a 
geometry problem in school. Pulling her feet up, she sat back, doubling her 
knees and hugging them to her chest, lacing her long, pink polished fingers 
over her knees. "It... it was so awful... what I saw... I didn't know...." 
she began. 

Carl lounged on the narrow bed, pulling his knees up as he lay on his side 
facing her. He studied her twitching mouth and said, "Turn off the 
waterworks, baby... tell me what's causin' the flow, huh?" 

His flippancy was ignored. 

"Y-your father... came home f-from the bar... with a-another woman and I... 
saw them doing things...." she sniffed. 

"Was he fucking her?" 

"Carl... please!" she tutted. "But not the regular way...." 

"You mean she was blowing him?" Carl whistled, then spread his hands and 
lifted his shoulders. "But your Mom... I wonder if--" 

"... If she knew he was having affairs? I don't know, maybe that's why she 
went to Grandma's." 

"Boy... I feel bad." Then his eyes settled on hers. "Listen... I hope you 
don't think I'm a creep because of what my old man does. You gotta 
understand, Kim, he ain't been the same since his group busted up. That was 
kinda his soul... kept him together since my ma left him." He shook his 
head. "Poor Dad, now Helen split." 

"D-do you think she left for good?" Kim's dimpled chin quivered with emotion 
and her green eyes squeezed out a hot tear that rolled down her satiny, 
flushed cheek. 

"I guess if I was her, I would...." he said, unthinking. 

Panic and hopelessness caught in Kim's throat. "I g-guess I'll be going away 
to Grandma's too, then. I c-can't stay in the same house with him!" 

"But how will you get there?" He couldn't keep his eyes off the rich swells 
of her young breasts, the puffy pink nipples standing out like little 
bumblebees in the floral print of her nightgown. 

"I'll hitchhike... I'll run away. Nobody here cares anyway." 

"You? Out on the road? You've got to be kidding, Kim, you couldn't survive 
five miles!" 

"Why not?" She blinked at him, her dark eyelashes curled from warm tears. 

"You don't know nothin' about street life, that's why. You gotta be tough... 
tough like the chicks I hang around with." 

"Like them?" Kim wrinkled up her nose. "Lola and Andie? They're... they're 
whores!" 

"Hey, cool it! They're not whores... they just know how to use their bodies. 
So they smoke a joint during lunch hour. Big deal!" He spread his hands in a 
belittling gesture. "Now those girls could hitchhike from here to Timbucktoo 
and have no troubles... because they know how to handle life." 

"Can you teach me?" Kim brightened, leaning forward and impulsively planting 
a kiss on his golden cheek in a coercive display of unconscious sexism. 

Carl stared down at his blonde haired step sister, his mind racing, his 
heart thumping wildly, while down below his virile penis throbbed achingly. 
He couldn't believe the havoc her innocent kiss had played on his emotions. 
Boy, he was a sucker. Christ! If Helen found out he taught her daughter to 
smoke dope, she'd have him jailed. Helen was that way... unbending and a bit 
frigid and bitter. Still, he loved Kim as if she were his own sister, loved 
her as a beautifully budding young woman who loved and needed to be loved. 
God, if they weren't related, he could teach her so much more! 

With a trembling hand, he reached up and gently pulled her down beside him 
on the bed. His voice was hoarse when he said: "Kim... what do you want to 
learn?" 

"I want to know what to expect when I get out there on the freeway and stick 
out my thumb," she said resolutely. 

He knew that this blonde virgin was not ready to go the route that he was 
cogitating, but maybe she could be brought around to it. After all, she 
wasn't really his sister... and he did love her. His own experience with 
women told him that the turn-on from pot was the only way to reduce her 
sexual fears and intensify her hunger for warm body flesh. Should he try it 
on her? 

He studied her rosebud lips, the dimple in her chin, the honey blonde hair 
cascading down over her milky white shoulders and decided... Yes! If she 
were to survive the freeways with dirty minded truckers and traveling 
salesmen--not to mention motorcycle gangs--she was going to have to learn 
about dope and sex. Without a doubt, he was qualified to teach this young 
woman. Some heavy-handed guy might be rough on her! 

"You know anything bout grass?" he asked. 

"I--I've heard about it...." 

"First you have to learn that taking PCP-- that's angel dust--or acid or 
heroin is going to string you out. Stay away from that crap. Now grass is a 
different thing. It'll mellow you out and make you feel all lightheaded and 
good inside." 

Kim struggled to understand what he was saying. She had heard some of those 
drugs mentioned in health class. "It's safe, then... and won't give me a 
hangover?" 

"That's right." Confessions were in order. "I shouldn't be tellin' you this, 
but since you're gonna be leaving soon, I think I better...." The thought of 
Kim leaving him was painful but the advantages it was offering him now were 
almost worth the emptiness he would feel later. While she was still here he 
could be as close to her as a man can to a woman... maybe. "I been smokin' 
pot for two years... but you better not say anything to anybody or I'll get 
kicked off the team and then poof! there goes my career." 

"Oh, I would never tell anybody," promised Kim, her wide green eyes 
surveying her step brother as if seeing him for the first time ever. 

"Yeah... and it's a great high. It doesn't string you out and it wears off 
after a couple of hours and you're right at point zero... and nobody can 
tell." 

"You make it sound sort of nice," she said, wiggling her shoulders and 
garnering her courage. 

Here was his chance. His selling job must be working; Kim was looking more 
relaxed, with that trusting look in her eye as if she expected him to 
perform a miracle. Instantly he felt self-confident as, casually, he rose 
from the bed, ignoring the tenting bulge in his Levi's where his throbbing 
penis cried for release, and walked to the dresser. In a second, he had one 
of the joints he'd rolled earlier and holding it carefully in his hand, he 
turned to his sister and said: "I'm going to light up. You can blow some 
with me if you want... but you gotta keep this cool, you understand?" 

A fleeting look of fright passed over Kim's angelic features. "You've got 
dope in this house?" 

Swiftly, he checked the curtains at the window, drawing them closed, then 
locked the door. He held up the hand rolled cigarette for her inspection. 
"This is what it looks like. You can see it's not a real cigarette from the 
bulge in the middle and the way it's got no filter." 

In wide-eyed fascination, Kim watched as Carl sat down beside her, lit the 
joint and drew the sweet smelling smoke deep into his lungs, holding it 
there for a long moment before letting it burst from his lungs like 
dragon-smoke. He exhaled completely, then smiled at her. 

"It's easier to smoke than tobacco. Here... you try some." 

The rich smoke he had exhaled inches from her flaring nostrils gave her a 
heady feeling. She couldn't help inhaling some; the room was small and 
unventilated. 

After another deep puff, going through the same routine, he blew more smoke 
into her face and watched her perky nose twitch. 

"It's great for relaxing," he said thickly. "It makes the world great for a 
while. No problems... nothing but love. Everybody loves everybody. What the 
old man does isn't important... or what Helen does neither. Dope is where 
it's at... makes you love everybody!" 

His voice, softer now, musical, almost lyrical, washed over Kim, mesmerizing 
her like the far away chant of the Muses; she could see that the marijuana 
had changed him, softened the edges of his otherwise burly temperament. She 
realized that he was seeing and feeling things that only marijuana could 
give, that she, in her straight state could not feel and see. He was in a 
world far away from this house, from her problems... he was in a world of 
love and beauty. She, too, wanted to be distant from this place where 
nothing but sorrow abounded. 

That was the reason she was here in Carl's bedroom, to find solace, 
companionship, compassion. But Carl wasn't here anymore; he was gone off to 
another world, a world to which he was beckoning her, urging her to follow 
him. Did she trust him enough to follow? 

The bridge she must cross was a flimsy one. It was only smoke and yet... 
could she reach out to the smoke, grasp it, and pull herself carefully over 
to the other side where Carl waited? It was like fording a stream and not 
being able to swim. If she didn't find the courage to cross, she would be 
abandoned, alone forever with her dark thoughts and depression. Oh, God, she 
had to take the chance! 

A trembling hand reached out to touch Carl's arm. "Carl?" Her voice was 
small, the voice of a frightened little girl. "It's scary on this side." 

He cocked an eyebrow at her, the dimples in his cheeks deepening. "All you 
have to do, Kim, is put that joint in your mouth and take a puff." He put 
the joint between her shaking, pink polished fingertips. "It's the only way 
to get there!" 

Kim stared at the poorly rolled cigarette and suddenly she knew the reality 
before her had to be brighter than what she'd experienced downstairs moments 
before. Yet she was unable to put it to her lips. Again the fear of the 
unknown... 

"It'll be okay... I promise...." He stared at her with softening brown eyes. 
"You think I'd lie to you, Kim?" 

Rapaciously, she shook her head in the negative. 

He stifled an urge to put the cigarette to her mouth and force her to smoke 
it, but he knew he couldn't be forceful with this wallflower. The decision 
must be hers. 

Hesitantly, Kim raised her hand, the joint held awkwardly between her 
fingers as she brought the wet end of the paper to her rosebud lips and 
inhaled lightly, wrinkling her brow as the first puff of smoke entered her 
lungs. 

Carl was elated. She blew the smoke out of her mouth experimentally, 
cautiously as would a genteel, sophisticated lady. "You've got to hold it 
down for a while," he instructed. 

Again she tried, this time taking the pungent smoke into her lungs and 
holding it there with determination before exhaling. She coughed and pounded 
her chest with her fist, eyes watering. "It feels strange...." 

"Take about four drags... it'll take a minute to work." 

They smoked the rest of the marijuana, passing it from hand to hand like old 
pros. Moments later, Kim recognized the feeling of euphoria as it overtook 
her with a gush of feeling that was warm and secure. She noticed that now, 
although her movements were normal, it took a long time to raise her hand to 
her mouth to take another drag. Time seemed to be standing still. 

This is how Carl feels! I'm there! she thought jubilantly. She looked at her 
stepbrother long and hard. Strange how she had never noticed the dimples in 
his cheeks before! Fears fading, the tension in her muscles relaxed and she 
lounged back against the headboard, watching the patterns of smoke in the 
bedroom. Carl was smoking it down to the roach. He stubbed out the end and 
saved the rumpled end. 

As she watched him, Kim began to realize how truly handsome her stepbrother 
was, and found it strange that she had never thought of him in that context. 
She closed her eyes, amused at the pattern of flickering lights behind her 
eyelids. What had she been so scared of? The world was beautiful Opening her 
eyes, she looked directly into her brother's. He had lain back against the 
headboard beside her, leaning over her slightly. He grinned down at her and 
said, "You feelin' any different?" 

"Not really... just a little strange." 

Carl came to the point: "When you get turned on, I'll teach you about sex." 

Strangely, she felt no surprise at his words. "But you're my stepbrother!" 
she said with a giggle. "We can't do that!" But Kim experienced a tingle of 
excitement within her, a tiny tremor in the pit of her belly, and she was 
aware of it like a minute spark struck from a piece of flint. 

"We're not really brother and sister... and besides, back in ancient Egypt 
brother and sisters used to fuck...." 

"Carl!" Again a bawdy giggle. 

"Sure! The pharaohs did it to keep royalty in the family. Didn't you take 
Ancient Civ?" 

"Carl" she said tremorously. "Let's talk about other stuff... like which 
side of the freeway I stand on to get a ride to Atlanta...." 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Helen Jacobs Sanchez, a willowy platinum haired woman of thirty-eight, 
appeared older than her years this evening, though the high-cheek boned, 
sophisticated beauty of her chiseled features could never be subdued. 

"I have the awful feeling, mother, that George is going to do something to 
my girl!" In mid-pace, she spun around, looking for an answer in her 
mother's serene features. "Why, he even commented that she was turning into 
a woman, and my God, the way he stares at her!" 

Deliah watched her daughter's agony, helpless in offering relief. Times had 
been trying, what with waiting to hear the whereabouts of Lieutenant 
Jacobs... then getting that terribly insensitive telegram from the 
government. Still, her daughter possessed a penchant for drama, for creating 
her own inveiglements. "Has he--tried anything with Kim?" she asked gently. 

"No...." came the strained reply. 

"Then how do you know?" She eyed her daughter's arching eyebrows. "Do you 
think, dear, you might be causing issues that don't exist?" And then, more 
gently: "... do you feel adequate in bed with George? Now don't get upset!" 
She raised a restraining hand. "South of the border blood runs hot... I 
wasn't born yesterday, you know." 

"If I could talk to Kim without George knowing it's me on the phone I 
could--" 

"Could what? Be sensible, dear. Don't destroy the poor child's sense of 
security any more than it has been already. Don't plant fears in the girl's 
head." 

"I guess we should wait then. I'll call the school tomorrow and ask the 
superintendent to get her out of class and send her a ticket to Atlanta." 

"Now you're being sensible." 

* * * 

Carl had slipped his arm around his stepsister's shoulders and pulled her 
close to him, easing his way into her trust. 

"Now let's talk about sex. Did you ever see this?" From under the bed he 
pulled a book with ragged edges. Flipping it open, he showed her graphic 
pictures of sexual intercourse with all its variants. The women were all 
gorgeously shaped and the men were well-endowed. Idly, Kim glanced at the 
photographs. "Oh," she said blandly--until she saw the picture depicting 
fellatio. 

"That's what that woman was doing to your father," she said. 

"She was really sucking him off, huh?" 

"Don't be so crass! I don't know how she could stand doing it!" Kim wrinkled 
up her nose. 

"What was Dad doing... I mean was be being mean?" 

"Sort of... he was pulling at her hair...." 

"Tell me... I been wonderin' about this a long time. Does Dad have a big 
one? Is it bigger than mine?" he asked brazenly, reaching down to loosen his 
belt and unzip his Levi's, then dipping his hand in to release his erect, 
throbbing penis for her inspection. 

Instinctively, Kim looked askance. "Please...." She peeked at it out of the 
corner of her eye. "I think you're about the same size." 

"Have you ever touched a cock before?" 

Kim blushed and bit her lip. "Yes," she said with firm finality. Remembering 
Larry, Kim recognized the same sunshiny glow in her loins. All this talk 
about sex and witnessing first hand the oral sex in the bedroom... plus the 
loosening effects of the marijuana, were working on her, insidiously pushing 
her nearer and nearer the brink of sexual desire. She squirmed her thighs 
together to stem the feelings ricocheting around in her young body. 

It was only a tiny movement, but Carl had been watching for it and knew that 
in a few minutes he would be ready for Lesson Two. He rationalized to 
himself that sending a virgin out to hitchhike the freeways was cruel, 
indeed; he would be her mentor. He would make it good for her and good for 
himself; he would teach her the beauty of sex to annihilate the wretched 
introduction given hear by his equally wretched father. Now to prepare 
her... 

"Larry, huh? Did he fuck you?" 

"I've never done that!" 

"Did you suck him off?" 

"Carl!" Kim was furious. "I-I-I just used my hand...." 

"Did he cum?" 

"Yes...." She looked away and tutted. "Did you cum?" 

"Yes, I came... now can we talk about something else, please?" 

"Well, I'll be darned. You know more than I thought you did!" he taunted 
playfully, reaching over to cup a round, proudly up-thrust breast in his 
large hand. 

Even though the cloth of her nightgown, his touch seared her skin, scorching 
down through her belly to burn furiously in her already frothing pussy. She 
tried to shrink back away from him, but Carl was a persistent boy, keeping 
his hand on her breast and feeling the bud of her nipple expand and grow 
from the heat of his hand. 

"Oh, Carl... don't do that! It's not right!" she pleaded. "You're my 
stepbrother and--" 

"We're not in this time and space... we're ancient pharaohs in Egypt That's 
not a nightgown you're wearing, that's a queen's drag, okay?" 

"Don't be silly!" 

"Hey, what's wrong with pretending? Do you like living in this house with 
him? Do you really dig what's going on in your life?" 

"You know the answer to that," she said in a bored voice. 

"Okay... so what's wrong with pretending if it makes life more fun?" 

Her stepbrother's hand left her breast and began to slither slowly and 
deliberately down across Kim's flat tummy. Squirming under his searing 
touch, Kim clamped her legs to impede his adventurous hands from reaching 
the soft, sparsely curling hair of her pubic mound, yet she couldn't resist 
the sensual salaciousness of his caress; it was even more intense than the 
time she had allowed Larry to use his hand on her down there. A thrill of 
lewd sensation surged through her aroused teenage flesh, and under the 
influence of marijuana, it seemed that eons of time had ensued during which 
she savoured every slithering inch as his hand slowly slid and kneaded her 
vibrant body. The slinky material of her nightgown added a warm friction, 
multiplying the sensations wonderfully. Yet even through the narcotic fog in 
her brain, a small, hesitant voice cried out from within: "Don't do it!" 

With a supreme effort of will, she twisted away from him, swung her legs 
down onto the floor and sprang to her feet. "No, Carl!" she said with firm 
resolve, her breath a bit ragged. "It's wrong!" She started for the door. 

But Carl was the athlete. He sat up, imprisoned her in his arms and laid his 
head against her soft breasts. "Christ, Kim! Don't run out on me... I 
wouldn't run out on you if you were the one who wanted some comfort." The 
South of the border charm was working wonders again. "I know you want to be 
close to me, too... so let's relax together, let ourselves get all hot and 
enjoy it." 

He never used the word fuck, for his own selfish coercive reasons. 

Jim yelped, his grip too strong for her. "No, Carl!" 

"Have I ever said no to you?" 

"No... no, you haven't." 

"Listen, Kim. It'd be better if you did it with me the first time," he said 
cunningly. "If you start hitchhiking, these guys are gonna know you're a 
cherry and they'll hurt you. After the first time it doesn't hurt... let me 
prove it to you!" 

Deftly, he reached down, grasped the hem of her nightgown and yanked it up 
over her hips, exposing her naked loins to his gaze. 

Swiftly then, he slid from the bed to the floor, maintaining a firm hold on 
her smooth skinned buttocks. He sat back on his haunches to bring his face 
close up to the exposed fur of her pubic mound, and then shot out his tongue 
to slide it into the hair-encircled vaginal slit, pressuring the tip of it 
inward to part the fleshy outer lips and find the pulsating nub of her 
clitoris. 

Summer lightning played there during the breathless moment when he probed 
and licked, and an involuntary gasp of pleasure escaped Kim's lips. She 
stared downward to where his face was buried in the blonde fuzz of her pussy 
and felt those familiar bubbling sensations wash over her, not understanding 
how her own stepbrother could evince such intense sensations of pleasure, of 
sublime sensuality, in her innocent body. 

"No... please, Carl...." She wrapped her fingers in his black curls and 
tried to tug his head free of her loins. Yet somehow seeing him kneeling 
subserviently at her feet to give her pleasure was strangely exciting. She 
was alive with sensation, her whole body curdling with tingling warmth of 
promise, overshadowing all other rational thoughts. She felt him 
everywhere--from the nubby tips of her nipples to her curled under toes, she 
was one mass of jellied flesh. Never had she felt this way, as the ravaging 
tongue brought her to peaks of promised ecstasy. God! She could feel the 
moist warmth of his tongue and power of his massaging hands caressing her 
buttocks, hips and thighs. He was everywhere at once. Oh, Lord, forgive me, 
Mother... but I want to make love to him. Then in appendage, He's not really 
my brother... he's not my flesh and blood! 

And as a woman will, the last protest was hers: "P-Please, Carl... we 
can't... it's against training rules... it's against everything!" 

Lips still clamped to her warm pussy, Carl shook his head emphatically and 
quiveringly, her hands moved up to cradle either side of her flushing 
cheeks, pressing his face in close to her loins, unconsciously giving him 
tacit permission to continue as his tongue plunged wildly in and out of her 
trembling cuntal furrow. Instinctively, she relaxed the tension in her thigh 
muscles, allowing her thighs to spread submissively as she moved her feet 
farther apart and her pelvis tipped up with the flexing of her developing 
hips to begin a tiny countering movement of her stepbrother's hungrily 
plunging tongue. She moaned softly, the building ecstasy too much to keep 
within. 

Abruptly, Carl rose to his feet, sliding his arms up around her, carrying 
the hem of her nightgown up and over the full round firmness of her breasts. 
Automatically, she lifted her arms over her head, letting him remove the 
garment from her vibrant young body. 

Then the wind was knocked from her lungs as he crushed her against his hard, 
youthful chest, her naked breasts mashed between their bodies, while the 
meaty length of his throbbing penis pressed against her belly. 

Kim's mind and body were anesthetized, mentholated from marijuana and with 
her arms around him, her hands stroked up and down his strong, long back; 
her face lifted for his kiss. He plastered his lips to hers and tasted his 
marijuana-scented tongue spar with hers. 

Suddenly, the half-drugged teenager felt her legs turn to rubber. A hand 
went out to the edge of the bed to keep her from falling, as a wave of 
dizziness overcame her. Carl eased her lithe body back on the bed, then 
began to strip off his clothes hastily. As he stood tall above her, he 
marveled at the perfection of Kim's lush nakedness. 

Kim writhed on the bed in an agony of searing need as her stepbrother 
stripped before her, standing finally lean and muscular, his hard fleshy 
penis standing out in a virile erection. Long and hard, she stared at his 
manhood, wondering how that fat hunk of .flesh could get inside her body 
down there, when nothing bigger than a finger had ever plumbed those secret 
depths. 

Carl noted the direction of her gaze and grinned confidently. "Don't 
worry... I'll stretch you good first." 

She loved him for soothing her fears, for feeling concern for her well 
being. "Oh, Carl...." In a blur of motion he was beside her on the bed, his 
lips on hers, his free hand caressing her breasts, belly, thighs and pussy 
mound. Finally, his hand shot down between her legs and covered the whole of 
her steaming pussy, gently massaging the hot wet flesh. Her pelvis moved in 
churning circles under his hand, and he knew she was aroused... would remain 
so until orgasm. Lola, Karen... none of those girls were this beautiful 
stretched out naked. Kim was a satin doll! 

Deftly, he moved to kneel between her legs, levering them apart as he gazed 
hungrily down at her tempting nakedness, the coralline flesh of her vaginal 
split glistening moistly in the dim light of the room. 

Kim squirmed at the feel of his middle finger tracing the thin furrow of her 
exposed cunt, and she squirmed involuntarily beneath the salacious probing 
while moaning aloud with sensual desire as the electric contact of his 
teasing finger rippled along the flesh of her inner thighs. She squirmed and 
ground her buttocks down into the mattress. 

Slowly, carefully as not to hurt her, his finger slid in, probing deep into 
her yearning vaginal passage, easing it in and out for several slow 
maddening strokes before he began to churn it around and around just inside 
the tiny, pulsating mouth. She felt a twinge of pain and gasped. "Oh, 
Carl... please don't hurt me." 

"I won't...." came the ragged, breathy reply. 

Again, a twinge of discomfort caused her to jerk her hips down and away, 
grinding them in to the mattress. She heard him say proudly: "I've got two 
fingers in you now!" Then the pain was rapidly being replaced by intense 
sensations of pleasure as her brother finger-fucked her, stretching her 
swollen flanges and cuntal mouth. Suddenly she arched her back and yelped: 
"That hurts!" 

"Just a little more...." he breathed heavily above her. "I've got three 
fingers in now... Christ, you're tight!" 

Gradually she let her hips sink down, let her muscles relax. "Oh, it's 
beginning to feel--good!" Again she began gyrating beneath her stepbrother 
while his fingers probed deliciously. And he promised it would get better 
when he actually put his penis inside of her. Beautiful, wasn't that how 
he'd described it? 

Then a wave of disappointment washed through Kim a second later when she 
felt him pull free his fingers from her steaming pussy. She raised her head 
to discover why and looking between her softly mounded breasts, she saw her 
loving stepbrother leaning forward, his face buried between her open thighs. 
He was going to lick her there again, she realized, feeling butterflies 
twitter in her stomach at the thought of it. 

Between Kim's legs, Carl could see droplets of moisture glistening like dew 
on her gently pulsating petal-like cuntal lips. Oh, she tasted good... like 
soap and perfume. He had succeeded in stretching her without drawing blood, 
a good omen of his gentility. Using his thumbs then, he slowly parted the 
fleshy outer lips to then reveal the coral depths of her cuntal passage, and 
saw that the soft pink flanges of her hymen were cleared from the opening. 
Secretly, he was pleased with himself; he hadn't been that gentle with Lola. 
He drew her pussy lips apart and licked his lips. 

Kim gazed down at him through glazed eyes, then felt her pelvis 
automatically lift up, offering her virginity to him. Uncontrolled, 
involuntary, instinctive... her motions were all of those things. She was a 
woman on the brink of an orgasm, a woman who needed to be loved by a man. 
She felt the soft warm wisps of his breath graze the secret, sensitive flesh 
and she moaned aloud as he lowered his head, his face disappearing into the 
split between her legs and nuzzling in against the wetly quivering flesh. 
Then his tongue slithered hot and wet into her more-than-ready-vagina. 

Kim's body responded womanishly, automatically, convulsively to the 
thrilling electric sensations lurching up to him, then ground back and down 
into the mattress to escape the intense, galvanic shock of desire that 
seemed momentarily to overload her untried nervous system. But in the next 
instant, her hips were arching up to shove her seething pussy into his mouth 
again. Her total physical and mental surrender to his new-found rapture held 
her captive. Only delicious orgasm could free her from this carnal bondage. 
All the barriers were down and an animalish heat in the pit of her belly 
cried for fulfillment. 

Blindly, tossing her head on the pillow cascaded with honey waves, she 
entangled her fingers in Carl's long hair and pulled his face firmly up into 
her wildly churning loins. 

Oh, Lord, it was happening. "Oh, my Carl...." she moaned. "My Daddy..." 

 CHAPTER SIX 

George Sanchez sat in the darkness, the pantry light casting shadows over 
his shoulder to exaggerate the size of the water glass half-filled with 
whiskey sitting before him on the kitchen table. It was late--one o'clock in 
the morning, perhaps. An hour or so earlier he'd heard Carl scream up on his 
bike. Now the house was dead silent. 

The fullness in his groin momentarily abated, his thoughts were more lucid, 
more precise, more depressing. Part of him hated his weakness of resorting 
to buying sex from a prostitute who hadn't the class to offer him a motel 
room somewhere; yet part of him defended that action with the defensive 
gut-response of a man whose wife has denied him sex, only to leave him with 
two children to support. 

Wearing his bathrobe, slumped over the table, he buried his face in his 
hands, then broke the spell to take a deep swill from the whiskey-filled 
glass. He stared blankly at the kitchen wall. Hadn't Helen been increasingly 
aloof since Kim reached adolescence? Was it his imagination or had his wife 
been turning over more and more of her household duties to Kim. Who ironed 
his shirts? Kim. Who cooked him dinner while Helen was off gabbing with her 
friends? Kim. Wasn't Helen molding her daughter into a surrogate wife of 
sorts? 

And her response to his admiration of Kim's recent womanly developments. 
Jealous outrage... cutting him off from sex, then leaving him alone with Kim 
to take care of him. What the hell kind of perverted reasoning was that? 

George pounded his fist on the table, rattling the sugar bowl. He might be 
an uneducated service station attendant, but he knew a bit about husband and 
wife roles! 

And Kim had been avoiding him like poison, skirting him and running for her 
room after school. No doubt Helen had implanted some nasty thoughts in the 
girl's head--not that he hadn't thought them. God, the girl was 
what--seventeen years old? Honey hair grazing down to her ass and wide green 
eyes with that innocent, baby doll look that made him want to cream in his 
jeans. Could it possibly be he was getting another hard-on just thinking 
about the goldy-locks nymphet? 

In a burst of regret and understanding, he raised his eyes to her closed 
bedroom door and scraped back the chair. Taking a final swill from his 
glass, he stalked over to the door and knocked. 

"Kim... ? Kim, I wanta to talk to you!" 

No response. 

He knocked again, this time taking the liberty of opening the door and 
peeking within. She was gone... snuck out of the house to meet some pimply 
faced boy, making love in a back seat, his hard cock pounding into her 
virgin cunt... because her mother had filled her head with romantic notions 
of undying love because her mother had lost the capacity to love? 

George's hairy legs disappeared up the back stairs to Carl's room. The two 
had always been close, thank God, closer probably than he and Helen. Carl 
would know where she was. 

A thread of light under Carl's door could be seen from the landing. A 
knuckled fist was raising to rap on the door when he stopped abruptly. Two 
voices whispered from inside. 

"Oh, Carl... it's not hurting anymore... it's starting to feel good!" 

Yes that baby-soft voice belonged to Kim, all right! Rooted to the spot in 
his bare feet, his blood singing in his ears, George put his ear to the 
door. 

Carl was speaking now, hoarse and thick, voicing encouragements and 
compliments. George raised his fist to bang thunderously on the door, anger 
and deceit growing within him, choking him. 

On the other side of the planked door, Carl slipped his kneading hands up 
over his stepsister's belly to find the diamond chips of her milky breasts 
while below, his tongue slurped and lapped at the widespread slit between 
her legs. He knew it couldn't be long before she climaxed, not with the 
tongue lashing he was giving her pussy. He only hoped he didn't shoot off to 
soon and spoil the whole drama. 

He heard Kim's sharp whelp of pleasure as he took the nub of her clitoris 
between his teeth and holding it tightly but gently, ran his tongue around 
in ever-decreasing circles until at last he opened his hungry lips wide and 
slid his warm tongue downward, back along the wetly sliding furrow to the 
throbbing heat of her bearded cuntal mouth. Her head flailed uncontrollably 
from side to side as he fucked into her juicy, velveteen vagina. His jaws 
began to ache and he struggled for breath. Christ, when was she going to 
cum? He couldn't take much more! 

Kim was in heaven. This male cared about her, was treating her kindly as a 
man should a woman. God, how she loved him, trusted him, wanted him--deep 
inside of her. He was teaching her everything she needed to know about life, 
which was more than her mother had done. "Carl...." she croaked. "Why 
don't... why don't you put it in now?" 

Lifting his sex-juice glistening mouth for a second, Carl panted. "Not until 
I make you come with my tongue first." In a blur of motion, then, he slid 
his arms under her pulled up legs so that his shoulders were wedged tight up 
beneath her inner thighs, pushing them back even farther so that her calves 
draped shawl-like over his shoulders. And his hands went beneath her smooth, 
whitely quivering buttocks and pulled them up harder toward his face as he 
slaved wetly over her undulating loins. Her kittenish mewls echoed off the 
walls, and her ass cheeks in his grasping hands jerked and convulsed beneath 
his hotly plunging tongue as the forbidden contact sent erotic high-voltage 
shocks of sexual sensation surging through her young, untried body. She was 
panting, her breasts heavy, her whole supple body spasming as she sank 
crazily into the throes of her first orgasm. 

Her fingertips started to turn numb first, firecrackers sizzling along her 
synapses to center in the tiny bud of her swollen, electrified clitoris. In 
a wild cry, her lips parted and it was not the cry of a small, innocent, 
frightened girl that burst from her chest, but the wild banshee wail of a 
ripe-bodied, mature woman experiencing sensual joy: "Aaaghhh... Oggghhh!" 

Kim made one final, violent thrust of her convulsing loins to push her 
seething pussy hard against his voraciously sucking mouth... and then as the 
receding waves of passion slowly withdrew from her, she slumped back on the 
mattress, her body sheened, limp, her eyes closing in the euphoric aftermath 
of climax. 

Christ, what a honey-cunted little babe! thought Carl, licking the juice 
from his lips and rearing back on his haunches. Kim opened her blinking wide 
green eyes to see his hotly pulsating cock spreading out from his loins, its 
mushroomed, nobbed head seeping with a little trickle of pre-cum. She licked 
her lips, then raised her eyes to his handsome, swarthy face. 

"I'm going to make love to you now, Kim... fuck you silly with this!" The 
words rasped from his throat, words of a mature young man, not of a high 
school adolescent. He grasped his swollen male flesh and skinned back the 
foreskin to expose the glistening purplish head to her gaze. 

Kim was petrified, her thighs still raised and spread wide to him, her 
swollen breasts heaving, her belly quivering as her eyes locked on the long 
stiff cock lancing out from her brother's loins. "I-it scares me, Carl," she 
gasped. "It's huge! Bigger than his was!" 

"But think how good it's going to feel up inside of you, Kim... fill up your 
belly good!" He crawled up over her, holding levering himself to hover from 
the strength of his sinewy arms placed on either side of her shoulders. He 
lowered his head suddenly to suck on a puckered nipple, slinking his teeth 
into the sensitive flesh to make her writhe in pain as her hips rose to meet 
the power of his loins. 

"Tell me you want me to do this, Kim... tell me so I'll know you really 
care." 

"I do care, Carl, but--" A hurt expression shadowed his youthful face. "You 
mean you don't care enough to give yourself to me when I already did you?" 

"No, that's not what I--" Kim gulped. After going this far and wanting Carl 
to give her pleasure, she could hardly deny him the same, could she? Wasn't 
that being a prick-tease, as they called it? "Yes, I want you to." 

"Then reach down and put my prick in your cunt." 

Reluctantly, Kim stretched a trembling hand under his brawny body and 
grasped the hot male hardness while at the same time Carl lowered his hips 
and she spread her smooth white thighs. Tremblingly, she guided his penis 
down toward the tiny moist opening of her vagina, using its bulbous rubbery 
head to part her cringing cunt lips, her mind dazed with anticipation and 
fear. It would be the first time a boy's penis had touched her there. The 
moment was magical... she wanted to remember it all! That it was her step 
brother making love to her seemed inconsequential now. The moment, the 
beauty of the moment was the thing! 

In her drugged-daze, she gasped aloud, a shudder of erotic delight tremoring 
through her young body at the satiny contact with the rubbery penis head 
slicked with seminal fluid rubbing against the dewy, sensitive folds of her 
pussy. Holding her breath, she lay immobile beneath him as he flicked his 
hips forward... and then gasped again at the pain lancing through her 
plundered loins as his cock flesh pressured against the snug hole of her 
vagina. 

This is wrong, she thought with that first sign of discomfort. Wrong to let 
Carl do this to me. A sixth womanly sense told her she would pay for this 
sin later. Sins were always paid for weren't they? In a burst of 
understanding she wondered if her mother's loss had been born of sin. That 
fleeting cognition evaporated as Carl pushed into her a fraction of an inch 
deeper. 

"Oooooggghhh!" His cock was wedged into the tight, elastic opening, brutally 
stretching the yet untried flesh of her pussy, until Kim bubbled with pain. 

"Stop, Carl! It's too big... it hurts too much. Please, don't hurt me!" 
Emerald eyes blinking imploringly into her stepbrother's eyes, she read the 
love there and instinctively knew that the pain was coming from within her 
own body, not from the lancing spear of Carl's penis. That vulnerable trust 
again... 

Carl's face was contorted with lust, a driving, compulsive need that was 
lashing him into a sexual fury. Ignoring her pleas-for mercy, for relief, in 
her tormented eyes, he shoved again, harder still, and the lust-taunted 
glans of his cock surged inside the hotly gaping mouth of her 
forever-stretched cunt. 

"Aaaaiiieee!" Kim screamed as his bloated cock head cleaved the tightly 
resisting walls of her plundered pussy with brutal force, the full throbbing 
length of his hardness racing up into her belly in one powerful, 
hymen-splitting lunge. The rubbery head bludgeoned against her cervix, and 
she felt his heavy, sperm-bloated balls smack up hard against the upturned 
cheeks of her trembling buttocks. His huge cock was buried to the pubic 
hairs inside his stepsister's cunt. 

Kim Jeanne Jacobs was no longer a virgin! 

Thrashing her head in hopeless subjugation, she felt Carl begin to grind his 
cock, screwing it into her defenseless pussy and gradually, her whimpers of 
pain lessened, to be replaced little by little with flickers of erotic 
arousal flaring along her nerve ends. As Carl rocked above her, using short, 
smooth strokes to widen the hole, her body surrendered of its own volition 
to the rippling passion flaring through her veins. A strange flash of 
remembrance flickered through her mind: Long ago when her real father had 
spanked her, punishing her for a misdeed, she recalled her father towering 
above her, rolled up newspaper in his hand, swatting her over the buttocks. 
Even then the acceptance of his domination had sent chills of excitement 
racing through her body. She would endure the sting of his punishment and 
then, when he had whacked her five times (it was always five times) he would 
fall to his knees and cuddle her, telling her he loved her and that he had 
to punish her to teach her about life. 

Wasn't that what Carl was doing now? Punishing her to teach her about life? 

Soon Carl was thrusting deep and hard into the moist cavern of Kim's warmly 
rippling pussy, and she felt her whole being responding sensually to his 
assault. His mouth clamped down on her slightly parted lips and as she 
writhed and squirmed under him, she thrust her tongue into his gaping mouth 
and tasted his saliva. He was her master; she would follow his dictates. Her 
loins began to raise up to meet his thrusts, her angelic face contorted in 
wanton desire, her mouth opening wider, wider... her nostrils flaring. She 
had become one with this domineering male! 

His hands worked at hauling her up tight against his forcefully grinding 
hips, splaying her thighs even wider apart, causing her cuntal lips to 
flower open and accept more of his bloated maledom. The last twinges of pain 
had left her now, and on either side of the thickly impaling rod, her legs 
quivered and jerked spasmodically as her tongue fucked into his mouth to 
duplicate the passion- rhythm of their pounding loins. Carl had succeeded in 
arousing the sleeping beauty of sensuality for his stepsister! 

Now Carl began to pound into her with jackhammer force, making longer and 
faster strokes, drawing his rock hard cock out to the tip, her velveteen 
cuntal muscles milking him, then slamming it back in again until his 
sperm-bloated testicles made wet slapping noises against the hairless, 
puckered hole of her anus. He could not control his lust any longer; he had 
to cum! Christ, his balls were aching! With insane fury, he pounded into her 
upthrust cunt. Got to cum! Got to cum! Got to cum! 

Panting, he looked down between their squirming, sweating bodies to watch 
his gleaming wet cock as it raced smoothly in and out of Kim's pinkly 
clenching pussy, concentrating on the delirious sensations stimulated by the 
soft, hair-fringed folds as they clung in a moist plea to his lust-inflated 
eighteen year-old penis. To hasten his climax, he slid a hand down between 
them to the sticky lips of her swollen vagina and fondled them, squeezing 
them more tightly around his pistoning cock. Oh, Christ, he could feel the 
sperm swell his balls with pleasure-pain. Suddenly he was afraid he might 
cum too soon. More then anything he wanted Kim to have another orgasm! 

His breath choking in his throat as the sweat ran down his eyes, his lustful 
response was no more heated than his father's who stood listening on the 
other side of the door to the incestuous sounds of lovemaking. 

George Sanchez drew up his hands into white-knuckled fists, a feeling of 
betrayal and deceit galloping through his emblazoned mind. His son and his 
wire's daughter were having sexual intercourse on the other side of that 
plank! His very own son, a child fathered from his own loins was deceiving 
him... usurping his role as man and lover of the house! There was nothing he 
could do to stop them now... nothing in his power to undo the unholy deed. 
He heard his wife's daughter squeal: "Oh! Oh! Oh! Ooooohhhh! Do it harder, 
Carllll-harder!" 

For one horrifying second, Carl thought he had failed, as he felt it 
beginning for him-- the irresistible soaring surge back in the heart of his 
groin. Then his stepsister convulsed under him in a series of shuddering 
jerks! 

"Oh my God! My God... it's going to happen... to me... again!" she groaned. 
"I can feel it, oh yes, yes, oh God, Carl. I'm going to cum again! 
Aaaaaggghhh!" 

Faster and deeper he pounded into her insanely heaving belly, literally 
giving her everything he had. He felt her lurch wildly beneath him, her 
cuntal lips obscenely sucking his thundering cock, he felt his own boiling 
sperm begin to shot along the length of his blood-fed jerking cock. His 
ecstasy blew his mind as his body spasmed in one final slamming plunge far 
up into the lewdly milking depths of her still-cumming pussy, the semen 
squirting through the tiny slit on his swollen cock head in a stream of 
sticky cum. 

Dear Lord in heaven! Kim had never realized such joy could exist in this 
crumby world! With a last convulsion of her shuddering belly, she allowed 
her legs to fall limp and splay to either side while her heart pounded in 
her breasts and she gasped for breath, gulping air into her laboring lunges 
to stop the dizziness whirling about her. Her emerald eyes were clenched 
tightly shut as wave after wave of euphoric delight swept through her. She 
was fulfilled and completely satisfied! 

"Th-that was really something, Carl," she gasped. 

Her stepbrother had collapsed exhaustedly on top of her, the tickle of his 
chest hair rubbing against her crinkled nipples a deliciously languorous 
sensation. "Liked it huh?" 

"Yes, I th--Eeeeeiikkk!" 

Kim's fist flew to her mouth and she clung to her stepbrother with such a 
need that he shared her fear. 

"You two goddamned cheating punks! You fuckin' perverts!" 

It was George Sanchez standing by the bed, rolling up the sleeves of his 
bathrobe, a violent expression on his liquor-contorted face. The breath was 
hissing from between his clenched teeth, his feral eyes leveled on the nude 
form of his eighteen year-old son. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Helen tossed and turned, the two cups of warm milk with a finger of brandy 
each had done nothing to quell her ragged nerves. She was frightened, 
frightened of her decision to leave George and frightened for her daughter's 
safety. The responsibility of the girl's welfare hung like a dark cloud over 
her sleepless consciousness. Tomorrow she would telephone Jasper High School 
and ask to talk to her daughter. Until then she must live with these 
thoughts. 

Her mother's irksome comment concerning any possible feelings of inadequacy 
on Helen's part bothered her. Of course she felt competent as a wife! Two 
marriages should have relieved her of that anxiety, she reasoned 
defensively. And she had raised Kim to be a good girl, taught her how to 
manage a household. Lord, the girl had been cooking most of the meals of 
late and doing the ironing too. 

But was that right? Helen rolled over onto her back and stared up at the 
ceiling. Was it right for a mother to push wifely responsibilities off onto 
a seventeen year-old girl and still expect her husband to be attracted to 
his wife when, in truth, she had fallen out of love with the charming man 
who had wooed her out of depression after Ralph's death? 

A tortured smile played across Helen's gorgeous face, recalling the nattily 
dressed keyboard player with his snappy black eyes and wide, engaging smile. 
From the roomful of women, he had sought out her platinum haired beauty and 
dedicated a song to 'the blue eyed blonde in pink chiffon' and sent a note 
to her table to join him after the dance. His lighthearted seduction had 
been easy to succumb to, with little rationalization of emotions on her 
part. Two months later they were engaged to be married... and Kim had been 
heartbroken. She had never approved of George, had intuitively sensed 
something shallow in his suave mannerisms. 

Then his musical group broke up because of poor management and loss of a 
recording contract and, except for a few residuals that dribbled in, he had 
no work. Having to accept the service station job had depressed him gravely. 
That's when he started sniping at me and began looking at Kim with those 
dirty, hungry eyes. Oh, God! Helen flipped over onto her belly and sobbed 
into the pillow. He thought I didn't notice, but I saw the way he looked at 
her... the same way he looked at me that first time. I know what he wants of 
her! I was young and beautiful and hopeful once, too... Yes, I was! 

* * * 

"Carl! Carl!" Kim was screaming, struggling to cover up her nudity with the 
rumpled sheet. Wildly, her eyes shot toward the door to see her 
stepbrother's buttocks disappear down the landing, leaving her alone with 
her irate stepfather who was devouring her fear stricken nakedness with 
preying eyes. 

"Your mother would be proud of you now! Damn her!" he growled, grabbing the 
sheet's corner and yanking it down over Kim's cringing body. His eyes were 
boring into the cavity of lost virginity. 

"D-don't look at me l-like that!" she stammered, scrambling on hands and 
knees for the end of the bed. 

He blocked her way and threw her back down on the bed. 

"You fucking little cunt!" His cheeks were crimson. "You and your frigid 
mother nagging, bitching, bitching, bitching...." he bellowed. "I wish she 
could see for herself it's her own kid that's startin' all this crap! It's 
your goddamned fault she left me, you fucking perverted cunt! You fucked my 
son... now you're going to fuck a man!" 

Hearing that, Kim bolted to her feet, but George's strong hands forced her 
down onto the bed and held her there. 

"Now you're fucking my kid. You and your mother--a couple of whores!" His 
mustached upper lip curdling with contempt. 

Kim's jaw dropped open in shock, shame and humiliation flooding through her. 
There was nothing she could say to refute that black reality. George had 
seen them together... naked. 

"How would you feel if you knew that your mother is jealous of you... and 
she won't fuck me because she thinks I'm fucking you? Huh? Little girl!" He 
was pinning her shoulders to the bed now, shaking her so hard the cum deep 
inside her deflowered womb flowed from its warm trap. The placket of his 
bathrobe had opened and the girth of his golden cock was staring her in the 
eye. Kim blinked, wanting to die. 

"Noooo!" she screamed, realizing his intentions. "Noooo!" 

His voice was gritty. "Let out another yell and I'll knock your damned head 
off, bitch! If you can fuck my kid, you can fuck me! It's your fault Helen's 
left!" 

Shifting his hand down to cover her jaw, he dropped his mouth to hers, 
capturing her lips, covering them moistly as his alcohol tasting tongue 
slipped between her lips and teeth. Kim resisted his kiss, craning her neck 
to avert it, but his grip prevented that, his fingers pressing cruelly into 
the muscles at the hinge of her jaw, forcing her mouth to open to him. 

She fought desperately, trying to worm her body free of his smothering 
weight, disgust and revulsion sweeping through her at the physical contact 
with this man whom she had always despised. He was sweating above her, his 
lips salty, as his other hand began to move over her curvaceous form, 
gouging and kneading the soft naked flesh of her hips while his pelvis 
ground painfully into her loins. She could feel the bulging thickness of his 
erect cock through the fuzziness of his bathrobe as it pressed hard into the 
cum-slickened mound of her pussy. 

Grunting, breath snorting through her nostrils, she pulled her face away 
escaping his devouring lips as she struggled to free herself from his body 
pinning her to the mattress. "Let me go! I'll never let you--" CRACK! His 
open-handed slap rocked her already drugged mind. "You shuddup!" he roared. 
Kim moaned, a hand going to the side of her face where the ugly imprint of 
his fingers had left a livid weal. 

"I'll tie you up and beat you half to death, but I'll fuck you, you 
perverted cunt!" 

His eyes reflected his intentions; he was acting like a madman. 

"D-don't hurt me anymore," she said pitifully. Her decision had been made 
for her. The slap, the threat, the drug still working in her veins... all 
combined to weigh down upon her, to defeat her. 

Again George captured her mouth, his tongue spearing in between her teeth. 
He rolled away from her slightly, his hand going to a full, round, firm 
young breast, his thick fingers digging into her soft flesh. 

I should have left tonight... I should have known he'd go crazy without Mom! 
Oh, Mom... why did you leave me here with him! 

Again she tried to shake his rapacious hands from her naked young body but 
it was futile. His tongue was jabbing into her mouth. In a fury, she bit 
down hard on his lingual digit. 

"Ahhh!" WHACK! A second weal joined the first, imprinting her check with his 
incestuous lust. 

Perhaps if she gave in, it would be over that much sooner... and then she 
would slip out of the house while he slept and find Carl. Oh, why had he 
deserted her? She would lie there, and let him have his way with her. 

She was trapped and all alone. She slumped back onto the mattress with a 
groan of submissive resignation, all of her will to fight gone. 

George began kissing her soft neck, his tongue flicking wetly out to lave 
her baby-soft skin. Now he was flicking it into her ear, its hot moistness 
as the tip ran around the lobe sending uncontrollable shivers of ticklish 
delight up the length of her goose-bumped spine. 

"Shit, you're a sexy bitch," he hissed into her ear. "I'm gonna find out how 
hot a piece a tail you are. My kid already knows!" 

Kim lay stretched full-length under her step father's raping body, her soft 
curving thighs clenched tightly together, dreading the moment when he would 
touch her down there in that secret place between her legs. It had been so 
beautiful with Carl... now this! She cringed fearfully, every cell of her 
seventeen year-old body taut with dread. 

Leaning up on one elbow, George ran his hand across her flat belly, on down 
one thigh, then up to the tingling vee of her pussy. She was exposed nakedly 
to his gaze. Then he cupped her pussy and Kim jumped. Deftly he pushed his 
middle finger into the crease, sliding it between her curl-trimmed lips to 
find the still pulsating bud of her clitoris. 

"You got a gorgeous body, kid," he said mirthlessly. "Better than your old 
lady's... no wonder she's jealous." 

Staring into her imploring eyes, he grinned lewdly as he rubbed the oily 
nub, still dampened from his son's cum; it came up hard and firm under the 
pad of his finger. 

"Jesus, you're wet," he smirked. "That feel good, havin' your own brother 
cum inside your belly?" 

Kim tried to cringe away; her hips pushed down into the mattress and she 
squirmed, trying to roll out from under him. No use. Instinctively she 
clamped her legs tight together and thrust a hand down to cover her shame. 
"I--I can't... I can't let you!" she bleated. 

"You let Carl fuck you," he needled. 

"It was d-different with him...." She tried to defend her actions. 

"He's your brother! What's the difference between a father and son? Huh? 
Tell me that!" he bellowed. 

Kim was beaten down by her stepfather's intimidating words. And as defeat, 
disgust and fear mingled in her, she unconsciously relaxed the muscles of 
her thighs, allowing them to part, revealing the coralline slit glistening 
there in its ring of sparse blonde fuzz. Her whole body quivered with fear 
as George's raping middle finger began sawing in and out of her cum-filled 
vagina, making lewd slurping sounds that embarrassed her terribly. She had 
always been a shy, withdrawn girl. 

He traced the thin, pink furrow of her naked pussy as she shivered with 
another feeling of horror. There followed a moment of strange, tortured 
agony, of salacious agitation, that seared her loins with inexplicable and 
delicious, ecstatic need. 

He slithered the finger deeper and let it slide into the steamy warmth of 
her trembling vaginal passage, where he rotated it in tiny teasing circles 
just inside the slickened mouth, eliciting a low, long moan from her 
agonized lips. 

His finger... Oh, God, it feels almost as good as Carl's did! 

The captive stepdaughter moaned aloud in an agony of conflicting emotions. 
Her nerves were shimmeringly alive to the electric sensations that surged in 
her loins. Why didn't he just shove his thing into her vagina and be done 
with it? Oh, she hated him! Again the feeling of betrayal... didn't her 
mother suspect this might happen in her absence? Didn't she care about her 
only offspring? Hadn't she always tried to shove them together? "Be a honey 
and make your Daddy dinner, okay sweetheart? I've got to run--" She had been 
more of a wife to this man than had her mother! 

In a strangely oblique manner, Kim began to realize the foundation of this 
horrible, incestuous coupling! Trembling with a new kind of fear, fear that 
she would give in to the man she had played wife to (for wasn't that part of 
her newly assigned role, unconsciously assigned by her own mother!). Kim 
squirmed her buttocks down into the soft mattress, seeking to escape the 
maddeningly worming finger. Her deep-throated moan was changing subtly to a 
helpless, mewling whimper as he continued to taunt her pussy lips, thrusting 
his finger deep into her tingling cunt and rubbing the knuckle of his thumb 
over the tiny head of her swollen clitoris. 

No! She couldn't let go again! She wedged her hands between their bodies and 
pushed up against his heavy chest, writhing and kicking under him in attempt 
to escape his iron grip. 

"Please... father-- "The word choked out of her throat. She had never called 
him that before. "S-stop doing these things to me!" 

George roared with laughter. "Father? What the hell? You've never wanted me 
for a father... you made that damned clear!" he snarled, a hurt expression 
nearly imperceptible on his handsome, swarthy face. 

"B-but you're the only father I have!" she sobbed. "You can't do th-these 
things to me! It's against the law!" 

"You say anything about this and I'll have you sent to Juvie Hall for 
fuckin' my kid!" 

"Y-you'll never make me want it!" she sniffed. 

"We'll see about that!" he said confidently. 

As his weight bore down on her, Kim stopped struggling and relaxed back into 
the bed, the insane horror of her defenseless situation sinking into her 
frazzled brain. No matter what she did or said, he would still rape her. She 
was a trapped victim of child abuse. All she could do was lie there and 
allow him his liberties with her naked, cringing, uncooperative body, let 
his hand fondle, let his tongue lick, kiss, suck at her tender flesh. Then, 
when he was ready, he would plunge his monstrous cock into her warm, moist, 
un-wanting vaginal passage, pounding into her incestuously and squirting his 
lewd sperm deep into her tortured womb. Tears of humiliation flowed down her 
cheeks. 

Where was Carl? 

Kim was helpless. She felt him raising up on one elbow and unclenching her 
eyes, noticed he was stripping off his bathrobe, his hairy loins, below the 
slight paunch of his belly drawing her gaze magnet-like. She cringed at his 
naked form, kneeling between her widespread legs, his face distorted with 
raw lust; her eyes swept instantly to the erect penis poling out from his 
groin. Her green eyes widened in shock. His penis was thick, massive, 
blue-veined and angry looking, and while he grinned triumphantly down at his 
stepdaughter, Kim saw his hand move to grasp it. Horrified and disgusted, 
she watched as he stroked it, his hand moving the full length of it, the 
foreskin slipping easily over the shiny, purplish, blood-engorged head with 
each lewd caress. 

"Y-You can't use that on me!" 

"What's the matter? Too big for your cunt?" 

Suddenly, the full weight of his paunchy body feel on top of her, forcing 
the breath from her lungs and the hard, throbbing thickness of his 
blood-heavy erection was pulsating hotly against her smooth, soft belly. It 
was like a live snake squirming. His searching hands were squeezing and 
mauling the rounded mounds of her breasts with savage cruelty, causing her 
to whimper in pain beneath him, while his mouth plastered against hers and 
his long, agile tongue stabbed deep into her throat. Then he moved, 
slithered down her body until his mouth hovered inches above her pussy. Kim 
moaned aloud. He couldn't do that... not after Carl-- "Please... Please... 
don't do th-that to me!" she pleaded. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Kim watched, petrified, as her stepfather's raping hands moved up her smooth 
thighs; he placed his thumbs against the soft, trembling cuntal lips, 
drawing them slowly apart to expose the swollen flanges of her vagina. 

She felt the humid warmth of his breath on her sensitive flesh and she 
moaned in an agony of shame and humiliation, still watching transfixed, 
unable to drag her horrified eyes away as he lowered his head to her 
womanhood and slid his tongue into the cum-wetted hole of her defenseless, 
violated pussy. 

Kim responded instinctively, squirming away, her hips grinding back 
convulsively to escape the outrage being inflicted on her womanhood. A 
seething revulsion stirred in her for the man her mother had married, this 
shameless human being who was using his warm tongue down between her thighs 
to suck her into submission. Worse than an animal, he was preying on the 
vulnerability of her young flesh to shame her and her mother. 

"Oooooohhhhh... my God! Nooooooooo!" she groaned. 

Yet even in the face of ugly shame, the sensations of forbidden, incestuous 
pleasure began to surge through her body from the insane, animalistic 
stimulation of her trembling, swollen cuntal slit. Desperately, her jaw fell 
slack, a cry dying in her throat as wild twinges of erotic need stabbed 
through her blood-engorged genitals, searing her body with lightning flashes 
of ecstasy and subverting her body to this man's salacious will. 

I won't let him... I can't give in to him-- like I did with Carl! But those 
feelings... down there between my legs! His tongue's so hot, so wet... it's 
hurting so good! 

Abruptly, George's hairy upper lip found the nub of her clitoris and he 
clamped his teeth to it, moving his head from right to left, his moustache 
rubbing tantalizing against her swollen genital flesh. He heard her mewling 
whimper of agonized ecstasy as he ran his agile tongue in teasing circles 
around the sensitive head. At once he felt the involuntary undulation of her 
loins grinding up at him in rhythmic counters to his obscenely working 
tongue. Her head began to flail, tossing her blonde hair to cascade over the 
pillow, the sensations generated in her helpless pussy so intensely 
electrifying that she could only moan in slack-jawed agony. 

Abruptly, George pulled his stepdaughter's legs up, sliding his arms under 
them until her knees were hanging over his shoulder and her shapely calves 
draped across his back. His hands slid in under the rounded moons of her 
buttocks to cup them cruelly tight against his maddening, swirling tongue. 
The ravished teenager's cries of tortured pleasure resounded in the small 
bedroom as he shoved his long moist tongue deeper into the searing pink 
depths of her wildly pulsating cunt. With trembling hands, she reached 
downward to him, the desperate battle raging within herself now lost, her 
fingers tangling in his hair to pull his face tighter to her steaming loins. 
He had won this battle! The cheap little slut! 

Kim cried from the depth of her tortured soul, the sound of her own voice 
mocking her, strangled moans coming in hissing spurts from her laboring 
lungs. Her body had decided for her... now she wanted it, needed to be 
ravished by this awful man! 

"Ohhhhhh, God!" she groaned. 

George was elated; in a few moments he was going to get what he'd been 
accused of taking! He would cram his big, aching cock into his 
stepdaughter's tight little cunt and fuck her silly! 

Beneath him, Kim lay trembling. It was as though she was glued to the bed, 
now that the horrible moment had arrived. He would force his cock into her 
quivering cuntal passage while she lay there accepting it... secretly 
wanting it. 

The pain would be worth it. Anything to get her over the brink of this 
unsatiated limbo! 

With a sadistic sneer, George knelt between her thighs, his moustache 
glistening with her cuntal juices, his massive cock gripped tightly in his 
hand as he pumped it. Then, working the hot, rubbery head up and down her 
soft vaginal furrow to part the honeyed fuzz of her ready cunt, he nosed the 
blunt tip into the mouth of her cringing cunt. Then, flicking his hips 
forward, he forced the blood-engorged glans into the tight elastic sheath, 
cruelly stretching the sensitive flesh until it would stretch no more. The 
pain was bringing tears to Kim's blinking eyes. 

"Aaaauuuggh! Ooooooh, nooooo! Stop! It's so big!" she screamed wildly. 
"Stop, it hurts!" She begged him for mercy, but she saw on his face instead 
a sadistic mask of pleasure gained by her pain. Inch by inch, as she writhed 
and groaned and struggled to fight him off, he forced his punishing penis 
deeper into her vagina. With a throaty grunt, he thrust with every ounce of 
his energy and sent the full eleven inches of his rock hard cock spearing up 
into her tightly resisting cuntal hole with a battering force. 

"Aaaaauugghhh! It's killing me!" 

For an instant, George lay still, heavy on top of her; then he grunted and 
flexed his thickly buried cock against the tight sheath of his 
stepdaughter's warm cuntal flesh, grinding it into her pussy deeper still. 
Kim groaned. Every ridge of his massive penis could be felt far up inside 
her belly, but astonishingly, as he lay there without moving, her walls 
began to stretch, accustoming themselves to the massive alien heat of her 
stepfather's cock. Her whimpers of pain came less frequently as he began a 
slow, undulant grinding movement of his pelvis, slow and smooth as a Salsa 
dance, bringing a new rhythm to the incestuous rape. 

It was beginning to feel good, too good, and Kim started to roll her hips in 
time to her stepfather's grinding loins, countering him in surging rhythmic 
thrusts. 

George leered down at his stepdaughter and read the signs of submission on 
her scrunched up, beatific face. A masochistic little bitch, she was... 
prime for begging for his favors! 

He levered himself up on his arms and pulled his hardened cock out of her 
now gently clasping passage until only the bulbous blood-engorged head 
peeked between her fleshy blonde fuzzed cuntal lips. Hungrily her loins 
followed, attempting to recapture it, but George kept the mushroomed tip 
immobile just inside the warm elastic lips of her yearning vagina. "Now, 
baby, you can start askin' your Daddy to fuck you!" 

"B-beg... ? You?" 

"You heard me!" snapped George. "Don't tell me Carl didn't teach you a few 
tricks!" He flexed the lust inflated glans just inside the sensation hungry 
walls of her cuntal passage and Kim mewled in ecstasy. She couldn't stop 
herself. Every fiber of her being rejected his sadistic demand, but her own 
searing physical need compelled her to concede. What choice had she? This 
torture had to end! "Fuck me," she spat up at him. 

Her words were choked out between clenched teeth in this final humiliation. 

"Tell me where, you sweet-assed little bitch!" 

"In... in my c-cunt," she said, and quickly added: "with your cock! Yes...!" 
She had said it to satisfy him, but pronouncing those nasty words was 
exciting herself as well. 

"Your mother didn't teach you that!" he growled and began to rock above her, 
thrusting his penis into her pussy with short, powerful lunges, causing Kim 
to respond of her own volition. This was no longer rape... it was 
intercourse by mutual consent. There was no more will to struggle against 
his assault, only the need to surrender herself to the perverse desires of 
her supple, vulnerable young flesh. 

Kim began to squirm and writhe as he plastered his mouth to hers: she pushed 
her tongue deep into his throat to be sucked and nibbled, moaning 
incessantly up into his face, her passion-crazed mind willing to accept this 
humiliation. Her eyes were glazed more from lust than drugs now, nostrils 
flaring, breath rasping in panting rhythm with his masterfully plunging 
cock. 

How could it be that making love to her stepfather could be as pleasureful 
as making love to Carl... that not discounting the experience with Larry. 
Didn't it matter who she gave her body to? Was this all there was to sex... 
pleasure, ecstasy and release? If so, she was getting all that from this 
incestuous coupling. But no... she couldn't concentrate on that now. 

George was reminding her of his dominance over her: "It's all the way now, 
baby!" He began to plunge in and out of her with increasing speed, inciting 
his aching rod to faster and deeper thrusts until, uncontrollably, Kim 
squirmed beneath him, her cunt nibbling his hardened shaft with 
ever-mounting fury, her white thighs jerking, scissoring open and closed, 
toes curled and slaving buttocks moving in abject humiliation to his 
ravishment. 

George was building toward it. Using both hands, he pressed her knees back, 
mashing them down against her breasts until they framed her face and the 
wetly quivering plane of her genitals was exposed and defenseless under the 
ceaseless pounding of his cock. Slaving away above her, he stroked in and 
out of her wetly sloshing cunt, his jack hammering pelvis battering her down 
into the mattress. He could feel the muscled ridges of her vaginal passage 
clasping and nibbling at his cock with every thundering stroke. 

She was there before he was. 

"Oh!... Oh!... Fuck meeeee!" she screamed as it surged over her, drowning 
her in indescribable sensation. Kim tossed her blonde tresses wildly as 
convulsive waves of orgasm washed over her lithe body and sprinkles of light 
played before her eyes. Across time and space she heard her own lusty, 
animal cry: "Fuck me... oh Daddee-eeee! Auuugggghhhh!" 

Above her jellied, goosebumped body, her stepfather, battering in and out of 
her naked body, cradled between her widespread thighs, felt the surging 
tremors rippling through her young pussy even as he knew that his own climax 
was beginning for him, deep in his sperm-packed balls. 

Then he was squirting his hot semen in gushing spurts far up into the 
obscene, incestuous depths of her still hungry pussy. 

"Aaaaauuuuggghh! Baby girl!" he panted. "Fuck back, fuck back, fuck 
back...." and with an agonized groan, he collapsed on top of her, his 
exhausted weight pinning her to the mattress. 

Later--it seemed an eternity--when Kim had quieted her ragged breathing, she 
was dimly aware from the depth and slowness of George's breathing he was on 
the verge of falling asleep. The snoring gusts of breath ex-haling from his 
nostrils bathed her goosebumped flesh in ticklish snorts. She tried to 
wriggle quietly out from under him. She had to get out of this awful house! 

Groggily, he roused himself. "What the hell...?" 

"Let me up, please!" She pushed against his chest. 

' "What for? Stay here." 

"No!" she pushed again. 

"I said stay here, Goddamned it!" 

Tears of fear and hurt warmed her eyes. Moments later, the deep hissing 
sounds of snores indicated that George had fallen asleep. The rape and 
alcoholic excesses had got the better of him and he didn't feel it when the 
lithe seventeen year-old blonde pushed him aside, causing his cock to slip 
from her pussy with a wet, sluicing sound. 

Nimbly, Kim slipped from the bed and tiptoed down the stairs. It was get out 
now or live with the knowledge that she had shared the bed of her mother's 
husband. 

Oh, God, she thought, sniffing, this nightmare has got to end. It's got to! 

 CHAPTER NINE 

For the second time Carl dialed the police department and hung up the 
receiver at the first ring. God, what was he doing calling the police on his 
father? That was like turning in your dope dealer! No... no, he couldn't... 
and yet the thought of Kim lying there naked on the bed open to his father's 
wrath stirred up a storm of guilt within his gut. 

Had he beaten her? Cased her out of the house? Raped her? Would his father 
really do that to Kim? The thought sickened him, yet it was a very real 
fear. 

Suppose he had and the police found out about their incestuous love making? 
Then what would happen to his dreams? He could hear the locker room gossip 
now. 

'Hey, man, I hear your ol' man fucked your sister... Goodbye college 
football scholarship... goodbye pro-ball and locker room forays with the 
cheerleaders. Fate had him nailed at every turn. 

Carl sobbed into his hand and leaned heavily against the glass cage of the 
pay telephone booth. He felt powerless next to his father's awesome, 
dictatorial strength as man of the house. Now he'd betrayed Kim, by leaving 
her to absorb the punishment, and had betrayed his father by indulging in 
carnal acts in the family home... carnal acts with his own stepsister! 

* * * 

Kim tiptoed downstairs to her room, step by cringing step. Her backpack was 
thrown over a shoulder, containing a fresh pair of levis, T-shirt and 
sweater. A few wadded up dollar bills were stuffed in her jeans pocket, 
money saved from babysitting. Stealthily, she had glided through the 
kitchen, crossed the back porch, and run nimbly, blonde hair streaking 
toward the rear gate opening on to the alley when she heard the scrape of a 
window opening above. 

"Where the fuck you think you're going? Get your ass back here!" It was 
George, raging from Carl's bedroom window. 

She turned to face him, her eyes slitting with anger. "I hate you! I hate 
you... I'm never going to see you again!" Scalding tears squirted from her 
eyes, the dimple in her pixie chin trembling, her heart pounding maddeningly 
with the inner rage eating away at her teenaged innocence. That man, her 
mother's husband, had taken her by force, had beaten her, abused her 
incestuously. 

"Come back here, you little shit!" he yelled. "I'm your father... you listen 
to me or else!" 

"You're not my father! You're j-just a nasty, wretched old man!" Kim slammed 
the gate and tore off down the street, the white spots of her tennis shoes 
scissoring in the darkness, disappearing out of George's sight. 

He slammed down the window and collapsed down on his son's bed. 

Jesus, God Almighty, what had he done? He could be sent up the river for 
molesting his wife's daughter. The police would be on their way to make the 
arrest. What was he doing here? His wife had left him, his son had run for 
his life, and now Kim had become a runaway, a statistic. 

The ugly stain of guilt and remorse tainted the warm afterglow of 
lovemaking. He had created his own hell and now he must claw his way free at 
all costs. Common sense told him the situation was beyond reconciliation... 
far beyond. At least he had his freedom--if he left--NOW! 

It must have been in the early pre-dawn hours, for the sky was turning a 
deep azure when Kim thumbed a ride downtown with a newspaper deliverer. From 
the bus depot, she walked along the street connecting with the interstate 
highway. Plodding along with her thumb hold out, feeling empty inside and 
shivering with cold, she made the conscious decision to take her chances 
with anyone... as long as they were heading south. 

Kim thought of her mother and the hurt intensified. Tonight's horrors must 
be kept from her at all costs. The woman had lost the man she loved and 
married another only to learn he could never make her happy. She deserved no 
more hurt, for Kim could empathize with loss: The two men who had loved and 
protected her were gone. Kim Jeanne Jacobs was alone in the world, in the 
cold now, waiting for a kind-hearted individual to take pity on her. 

It happened sooner than she'd dared to hope. A big freight truck ground to a 
stop with a hiss of its air brakes alongside the freeway entrance where Kim 
stood with her thumb out. It was a shiny blue color with a flashing chrome 
grill, pulling trailers sixty feet long and requiring two drivers with a 
sleeper at the back of the cab. 

A burly looking man with a tattoo on his arm wound down the window and poked 
his head out at a height almost seven feet off the ground. "Where ya 
headed?" he shouted above the clatter of the idling diesel. 

"Georgia--Atlanta!" Kim cupped her hands to her mouth. 

"Come on... we're headed that way-- gotta pick up a shipment there!" The 
swarthy, weathered face cracked open in an unnerving smile. 

Biting her lower lip, Kim contemplated the offer, doubting the wisdom of 
accepting a ride with two truck drivers. Quickly she glanced about her, 
wondering how long she could stand here without a police car stopping to 
interrogate; she was under age and by legal standards, a runaway. That 
spelled trouble. 

"Hurry up, kid!" he yelled, "but remember... this ain't the summer of 
love... people ain't pickin' up hitchhikers like they used to!" The driver 
shifted gears and the big truck started to roll on, the huge diesel engine 
emitting an ear-splitting roar as the vast rig inched slowly forward. 

"Stop! Please, wait for me!" Kim waved frantically, her tennis shoes digging 
into the soft shoulder. 

The truck shuddered to a stop, and she noticed that another, painted the 
same metallic blue with a bright chrome grill, had pulled up behind the 
first. "Come on, kid!" the co-driver barked, leaning out the window again. 

"Yes... I've got to get a ride--soon!" She glanced about her frantically for 
police cars; one was cruising behind the second rig at a comfortable speed. 
"... even if you can take me just a little ways...." 

"Jump up!" He opened the high door, smiling down at Kim and offering a hand 
to boost her up. 

"Oh, thank you...." His grip was strong as his steely fingers closed about 
her petite wrist; his arm was not taxed by her lithe one-hundred and three 
pounds tauting his sinews. The co-driver was a hefty man. 

The truckers were convivial men, though their conversation didn't interest 
Kim who was lost in her own dark, deep secrets of the terrors lurking within 
her family home. She sat timidly between them, feeling weak and lonely and 
very unloved, their loud laughter sometimes frightening her, making her 
cringe into the seat. It was then, with a sense of relief, that the blue 
metallic rig nosed into Dave's Truck Stop and they invited her for 
breakfast. 

The seventeen year-old blonde was ravenous; it had been a long, difficult 
night and her body was screaming for replenishment. 

Don, the co-driver eyed the shriveling creature hunkering down in the seat 
beside him. "How's bout some ham and eggs, kid...." 

"Oh, I'd like th--" She cut short her exclamation, remembering the pittance 
in wadded up bills that was her fortune. "I... I think I'll wait in the 
truck," she offered feebly, clamping her hand over her stomach to quiet the 
gurglings of raw hunger. 

"Come on, Kid," he smiled, taking her hand in his. "Breakfast is on me." 

The world of truckers and accompanying sub-culture was all new to Kim as she 
sat in the small cafe where they were joined shortly by the driver of the 
truck, a man called Shorty (for obvious reasons) and the other two drivers 
from the follow-up rig. The men ate heartily and laughed heartily, warm 
spirited fellows, so it seemed. Doug and Jake were introduced over platters 
of hash browns, eggs and ham, and Kim delighted in the protectiveness of 
these brawny men who had taken her into their fold. Always looking for men 
to protect her, wasn't she? 

As they pushed back empty platters and drained second cups of coffee, Don 
looked at their shy mascot with an intense sparkle in his clear blue eyes. 
"Whatcha runnin' from, kid? You get in some kinda trouble that you're 
hitchin' to Atlanta on a school day?" 

Kim, momentarily taken off guard by the blatancy of his suspicions, glanced 
fearfully around the circle of friendly faces and cringed. Would they report 
her... and send her back to her stepfather? The thought occurred to her that 
perhaps she should have called the police and had George arrested for 
molesting her; yet, the guilt of sending the breadwinner of the family 
behind bars would be unbearable, not to mention her mother's anticipated 
wrath. No... it was better this way. 

"I... I'm over eighteen," she stammered, cheeks flushing from the lie. "I 
have my parents permission." 

"Must be hip folks ya got," chuckled Max, sitting across from her, his 
elbows resting on the formica table top. 

The men exchanged glances, Kim's lustrous green eyes following the 
directions of those glances, trying to read their thoughts. They seemed to 
be straightforward men, a little rough perhaps, but not the type of male who 
would take advantage of a girl on the run. Mike had mentioned that he had a 
daughter himself. 

"Don't worry, kid," It was Shorty talking. "We'll get ya to Atlanta." 

They rose to leave. "I have to get our thermos bottles filled with hot 
coffee," said Don. "Be with you in a sec--" His heavy boots stomped through 
the cafe door, a cool gust of wind blowing through as he exited. 

Kim followed the other three back to the truck where they checked over the 
rigs to check for any problems, explaining it was part of highway 
regulations and that being stopped by the highway patrol for inspection 
could be a costly ordeal if things were not in order. Kim could understand 
that necessity, though the idea of highway patrols stopping the rig and 
finding a minor tucked away in the back made her edgy and apprehensive. 
Being alone in the world--out on the highways--was not easy. 

Don returned with three filled thermos bottles and swung himself up into the 
right-hand seat, giving Kim a hand-up into the cab. "You can run herd on 
this rig for awhile," he told Shorty. 

They had been on the road for an hour when Shorty reached for the thermos 
and poured steaming coffee for all of them. The drivers drank theirs black, 
but Kim requested cream and sugar. From a bag on the dashboard, Shorty 
pulled out an amber bottle and rattled something into his hand. Kim watched 
curiously, apprehension growing as he methodically dumped the pill into her 
coffee cup. He appeared alarmed when he felt those wide green eyes watching 
his motions. 

"It's artificial sweetener," he quickly appended. "No calories... I use it 
myself," he tittered nervously, patting his paunchy belly and shooting a 
dazzling smile. 

Hesitantly, Kim sipped at the creamy coffee, its caffeine seemingly failing 
to take effect. Blurrily, she watched the sloping terrain slip past in long 
stretches of autumn colors; her body felt anesthetized, numbed, almost 
mentholated and more alarmingly, her mind did too. The emotional anguish had 
lifted its heavy weight and the tightness that earlier constricted her 
throat had loosened its hold. The edge was smoothed. Why, her hands had even 
ceased shaking! There was no George, no Carl, no rape, no negative entities 
in her life... just the need to sleep. She opened her rosebud lips and 
yawned heartily, a yawn that seemed to draw breath from her very toes. 

Shorty patted her on the knee. "Just crawl on in the sleeper back there, 
Kiddo. It's a long, long way to Atlanta... A real long way...." To Kim's 
left, Dan had fallen silent as he guided the big rig down the freeway. Of 
the four, she had chosen him as her true friend. Now he seemed to have 
dismissed her presence. Why? she wondered, clambering back into the 
coffin-shaped box behind the seats and relapsing immediately into a comatose 
state of drowsiness. Had she offended him in some oblique way? 

The drone of the two men's voice, muted, half drowned by the roar of the 
huge engine and the whine of the tires on the macadam, combined with the 
rocking, swaying motion of the truck to lull Kim into a hypnotic-type 
trance. There was a strange buzzing sensation in her ears, but through it, 
the high-pitched strain of Don's voice pierced clearly: "Why the hell... do 
that... just a kid... innocent thing...." 

"Runaways... all alike... expect that...." Then Don's voice again, angry 
sprinkled with expletives. 

"Last one... lotta fun... you too...." Deep sleep was overtaking Kim, but a 
sixth sense seeped through into her reasoning mind. Shorty had put something 
in her coffee, and it wasn't saccharin--to make her go to sleep. My God, she 
had to get out of this truck! Oh, why had she trusted these men? Coffee... ? 
Runaways... ? Fun... ? Her eyes closed against her will; the voices faded. 

Her regular, deep breathing told the two men that their rider was out cold. 

"She's out... hope you're satisfied," grumbled Don. 

"Hey, don't be a spoil-sport. I'll bet that kid's been laid every way but 
Sunday!" 

"It's your trip," grumbled Don. "I want no part of it...." 

"Yeah, but like you wanted no part of that black chick we picked up in 
Tulsa...." tittered Shorty, swivelling around in his seat and leaning back 
into the sleeping compartment to fumble with the buttons of Kim's shirt, 
opening it halfway to the waist and then sliding his hand inside to fondle 
her gently rising and falling breasts. "Damn," he breathed. "Young and 
tender... just the way you like 'em, Don!" 

The truck rumbled on through the wind-whipped afternoon. There was no 
inspection by agricultural officials at state borders since they were 
hauling furniture, but a tense moment ensued when a highway patrolman waved 
them down at a truck weighing station and inquired about the woman in the 
sleeper. 

"My wife," winked Shorty easily. "She's pregnant... 'bout four months now. 
Belly gets kinda squeamish. She's taking a nap... but if you want me to wake 
her up...?" 

"Ah, let 'er sleep." The patrolman eyed the honey blonde hair. "Kinda young 
to be knocked up, ain't she?" he winked. 

Kim was oblivious to the conversation. Vaguely, she was aware that the truck 
had stopped. Wearily, she raised her head up off the pillow in time to see 
the dark uniformed highway patrolman step back from the dock. She had to get 
out of there and call for help! Blurrily, she could decipher what was 
happening about her, but her muscles wouldn't cooperate; her mouth refused 
to form words. 

With a defeated bounce, her head dropped back to the pillow. 

Kim didn't realize that truck had stopped a second time in a turnout at the 
side of the highway while the four men conferred. 

"We gotta have a good reason for stopping," Doug objected, "or the boss'll 
be on our asses!" 

"I don' like this." It was Don protesting again, but he had ridden with the 
trio long enough to know that such matters were diplomatically handled. The 
other three were in favor for stopping; who was he to renege? 

"A tire's easiest. We'll let the air outa one of the inside duals on the 
trailer. 'Bout a two hour job to get that baby off and back on again...." 
suggested Jake, the youngest of the three. 

Three sets of eyes leveled on Don. "You in or out?" demanded Shorty. 

Don thrust his hands into his pockets, kicked at a pebble and fixed his eyes 
at a point above Shorty's right shoulder. "In... I'm in...." 

 CHAPTER TEN 

Kim was lying naked on the mattress when she finally came groggily awake. 
The room had a slightly musty smell, and the sheets felt vaguely damp--as if 
no one had slept in the bed for a long time. Kim blinked and counted four 
men milling about the room. Shorty was sitting at her feet, a glass in his 
hand, smiling lewdly down at her helpless body. Doug, standing tall at the 
foot of the bed, smoking a cigarette, eyeing her with a smirk. Don slumped 
in an upholstered chair, averting his eyes from her accusing gaze. The 
other, Jake, had his back to her, pouring a drink. 

As Kim's dazed eyes focused and then took in the scene and its incipient 
implications, she opened her mouth to scream. She was being held captive in 
a motel room with four hard-muscled truck drivers! 

Shorty moved quickly, his hard, salty tasting hand clamping down over her 
mouth before she could utter a word. "Not a peep outta ya, sweetheart, or 
we'll have to plug them pretty lips," he hissed. 

Rolling her blonde head desperately from side to side, the captive teenager 
tried to escape his gagging fingers. As her hands flew up in a courageous 
attempt to claw his pudgy hand away from her mouth, her tiny wrists were 
seized from behind. "Hold her tight!" grunted Shorty. 

Kim heaved up against him, lashing out with her legs and aiming for the vee 
of her abductor's loins. But her ankles were seized in a vise-like grip that 
defied her seventeen year-old strength and her legs were splayed forcefully 
wide to the corners of the bed. She lay lewdly spread-eagled, held immobile 
by Jake and Doug behind, with Shorty's hand still clamped snugly over her 
mouth. 

Dear God, when would the nightmare end? Why was it that every man she 
trusted wanted only to violate her? 

"Now look," the pudgy truck driver panted. "We ain' gonna hurt ya, kid... 
unless you start actin' up. We're just going to have a little fun on this 
nice Friday afternoon. There's no sense in fightin' it... I'll tell ya that 
right now. Just cooperate and you'll have a good old time with me and the 
boys. You understand what I'm saying'?" 

Kim understood all right; his was a familiar refrain. 

Her head nodded an affirmative as her terrified emerald eyes glazed with 
drug and fear, stared up at him in disbelief. Four of them?! 

"We won't rough ya up, kiddo... but I'm warnin' ya, all four of us is gonna 
have ya." 

God, no! Kim thrashed her arms, legs and head, her torso writhing 
frantically like a wounded worm escaping the shovel's bite. The imprisoning 
grasp of the three men was convincing enough for the seventeen year-old. For 
a moment there was no sound but the occasional roar of a car outside the 
curtained window and her stifled moaning and panting breath as her captors 
held her fast, snickering at her struggles. 

Angrily, desperately, Kim opened her rosebud lips wide enough to taste the 
pad of Shorty's greasy finger. She bit down hard. 

"Goddamned it!" yelped Shorty, quickly withdrawing his hand and shaking to 
ease the pain. "She bit me!" His piggish eyes narrowed. "Okay, bitch... now 
you're askin' for it! I was gonna be nice. Tie her up, fellas and stuff 
somethin' in her goddamned mouth!" 

Kim shook her head violently as another hand clamped over her lips. At the 
foot of the bed there was movement and her tear-blurred eyes opened to see 
the profile of Don standing there. 

"You tie her up and I'm callin' the boss," snapped Don. 

"You voted in on this, remember?" returned Shorty, his massive lower jaw 
grinding angrily. Reluctantly, he reneged on his threat. "Okay, so we don't 
tie up the cunt... that gonna keep you quiet?" 

Don sank back down into the chair, staring at the naked squirming form on 
the bed and felt disgust for his friends. Any other girl but this one and he 
would have dropped his pants, but she was so goddamnmed innocent and 
trusting, so in need of protection. Shorty leaned over Kim's naked shoulder 
and hissed into her ear. "Listen, doll, you know what's going to happen to 
you, one way or the other. If we promise not to tie you up, you gotta 
promise to play ball three times with us. Remember, you let out one peep and 
I'll stuff your throat so full of cock you'll be eating it for a week!" 

Alternatives were scant. They had put it to her straight; they were going to 
rape her and she was a merciless victim. 

Suddenly Kim bolted. Someone had run his hand gently up her thigh and drew a 
thick finger through the moist coral furrow of her twice-ravaged cunt, 
parting the honeyed curling pubic fleece to find the soft little bud of her 
clitoris. The sensuous, ticklish contact caused her to jerk her hips away 
and writhingly grind them into the mattress. Unwanted thrills flared through 
her loins and she knew the answer she must give. Dumbly, terrified, her head 
moved up and down in the affirmative. 

Instantly, the salty fingers lifted from her abused mouth. She licked her 
dry lips and blinked her watery eyes up at the three sadists leering above 
her. She noticed they had cleverly prepared the scene of her debauchery: the 
bed had been dismantled and the mattress was already on the floor. 

"You wanna drink?" Jake asked, pushing the cold, hard rim of the bathroom 
glass under her nose. 

"Yes," she gasped. "I'm th-thirsty." Indeed, Kim's throat was parched from 
the sleeping pill camouflaged in her coffee. 

She had not expected to taste whiskey as she opened her soft lips and 
relaxed her throat. It was spit back into the glass. 

"Drink it...." came a soft voice from across the room. "It'll make it easier 
for you." It was Don talking. 

Now Jake put an arm under her shoulders and lifted her torso to a sitting 
position. Shoving the glass in her hand, he splashed more cheap whiskey into 
it. The fiery liquid burned Kim's throat and she grimaced. 

"Come in--gulp it down, baby... you wanna get that throat nice and relaxed 
for a big fat meal!" chided Doug. Her abductor took the glass, put it to her 
lips and tilted it forcefully. The raw liquor spilled down her throat and he 
refused to allow her to stop drinking until the glass was empty. Trickles of 
amber liquid puddled down onto her naked breasts, dripping like melting 
icicles from the peaks of her nipples. Kim gasped for breath, sputtering and 
choking. The whiskey had seared the whole of her insides, leaving a warm, if 
not hot, sensation to bathe her insides tranquilly. 

Kim's frightened eyes, darting as a scared deer's, roamed from face to 
merciless face. She could smell the closeness of Shorty--a pungent, sweaty 
smell of a man who seldom bathed. The others appeared cool, aloof, mocking 
and very much a fuzzy blur as the alcohol began making its vertiginous 
effects felt on the seventeen year-old runaway. 

Shorty snaked in behind her as she sat on the mattress, his pudgy hands 
slinking around under her arms to capture the fullness of a youthful breast 
in each calloused palm. Purposefully, he kneaded and massaged their soft 
smoothness, the satiny skin sliding sensuously through his fingers. Then she 
felt the hairiness of his muscular chest pressed up against her naked 
back--and lower down, the hard warmth of his erect penis. He must have taken 
off his clothes while she was gulping down the whiskey. Was that why the 
smell of him was so strong in her nostrils? Kim shuddered: The nightmare was 
beginning! 

Escape was impossible, that was obvious. It bothered her that don had not 
come to her rescue. Oh, why did he just sit there in the chair staring at 
her like an emperor watching an innocent prisoner being thrown to the lions? 
Why didn't he do something to help her? 

Shakily, she asked: "C-can I have another d-drink before we--" Jake sneered 
down at her. "Sure thing, kid... you can have all you want. Just don't get 
sick on us." 

There sounded a grunt of agreement on that score. Eight eyes (six hungrily 
and two ambivalently) watched as the naked lush bodied teenager upended the 
second glass of whiskey, the raw, searing liquid numbing her insides and 
dulling the anguished pool that was her mind. 

Somebody--was it Jake?--took the glass from her hand and Shorty pushed her 
back down on the mattress and slithered his weightiness down beside her, 
capturing her pouty-lipped mouth at once in his, his tongue bursting past 
her pearly front teeth to probe hotly into her throat. 

"Mmmmfffff...." Kim hated the taste of his liquor-sweet mouth, hated his 
thick lips nibbling at her possessively. 

One of his firm hands snuck around to caress the ripely swelling breasts 
nearest to him, rolling the puffy pink bud of her seventeen year-old nipple 
between his fingers until it spiked out hard, the areola puckering up around 
it. 

Then Jake set down the whiskey glass and stripped himself naked, stretched 
out on the other side of Kim, his warm, lanky body snuggling close and she 
felt with terror the hard hot rod of his cock pressing up tight against her 
thigh. It seemed to be the big brother massive and long, of Shorty's stocky, 
girthy penis. 

Kim was surrounded with naked male flesh. Jake fastened his lips over her 
free breast, sucking and nibbling voraciously, drawing the nipple completely 
into his mouth. 

The liquor in Kim's charging bloodstream began to spread its warmth more 
fully through her body--like warm sunshine. Already lulled by the 
aftereffects of the tranquilizer she had been given, the searing heat of it 
seemed to concentrate in her loins where tiny tingling thrills of unwanted 
sexual excitement were beginning to tremor her nerves. A low moan escaped 
her parted lips. Now she must face the inevitable: She had depended on the 
alcohol to numb her to the point where she could go through with this ugly 
ordeal without crumbling--to act as an automaton as she had with her 
stepfather, going through the motions but feeling none of it. 

But oh, God... her body was responding just as it had twice before in the 
past twenty-four hours. Was there nothing that could will it silent? 

Jake's voice intruded upon her thoughts from a distance. Blinking, she 
looked up to see him standing near her feet, stepping out of his pants. His 
erect cock lanced out through the fly of his polka-dot shorts. As he 
stripped them down over his thighs, his lust-inflated manhood jutting out at 
an angle from his hairy loins with the sperm-bloated sac of his balls 
swinging heavily below, he grunted; "Jeez! What a cute little pussy you got 
between your legs, girl. I gotta get my mouth down to pet it!" Instantly, he 
dropped to his knees between the captive teenager's spread-eagled legs. 

Kim watched, horrified, as he flexed his knees and splayed her inner thighs 
apart with the palms of his cold hands. Briefly, she tried desperately to 
squeeze her knees together, and for that he slapped her hard across the 
face. 

"Open your legs, Goddamned it, or I'll...." Shuddering, Kim shook her head; 
threats were being wasted on her, for she knew that four men wouldn't 
hesitate to beat her bloody if she thwarted their evil plans on her. It was 
there in their hulking bodies, in the carefully executed plans for this 
multiple rape, drugging her and bringing her to this musty smelling, shabby 
motel room after lulling her into a false sense of security with their 
shallow, mendacious friendliness. 

That female trust had again got her into trouble... 

Kim, whimpering, allowed her legs to be spread apart, and as she clenched 
her eyes tightly shut, she heard Jake's gasp and the warm wash of his breath 
over the sensitive flesh of her now widely exposed cuntal slit. She shivered 
from the feel of moisture gathering in her genitals, exuding from the 
twice-plundered walls of her softly palpitating teenaged cunt. Kim bolted: 
The trucker's hot, wet tongue was flirting at the petaled lips in their nest 
of silky blonde fuzz, hesitating there before plunging up inside. Wildly, 
then, he plunged his tongue in and out as the men at either side of her 
sucked furiously at her desire-hardened nipples. Kim felt the icing of a 
giant sandwich cookie, their licking tongues lapping at her creamy flesh and 
slurping over her desirously, groans of hunger issuing from their hissing 
lungs. 

She moaned herself, then, as Jake took the pulsating bud of her clitoris 
between his taut lips, holding it lightly while his tongue danced in an 
insane circle around the supersensitive little shaft of quivering, teenaged 
flesh. 

"Ooooohhhh!" Kim bubbled frantically. The sensations generated in her 
aroused young body were almost more than she could tolerate. Was she an easy 
target, she wondered dully, or did all women feel this way? Was there 
something emotionally unstable about her that she could not separate her 
mind's demands from those of her rebellious, supple teenaged womanly body? 

Her slender hips ground crazily down into the mattress, her chest heaved 
under the lurid, noisy sucking of the excited truckers whose raping lips 
were fastened to her diamond-chip nipples, her naked pussy rose suddenly up 
to the tantalizing mouth and she groped over Shorty and Jake, searching for 
and finding the blonde bobbing head of Jake between her legs. With a 
strangled cry, she took hold of his hair and pulled his glistening face 
tight up against her seething cunt. 

"Oh, God!" she whimpered helplessly, overwhelmed with damning sensations 
that felt like a million devil's accomplices pricking at her genitals with 
miniature pitchforks, creating an itch that could never be relieved. 

To hear Kim's baby squeal was what Jake had slaved for. Instantly, he pulled 
his lips free and was kneeling between her spread-eagled legs, his huge, 
lust-inflated cock in his hand. The captive teenager watched fascinated as 
he drew the foreskin back to expose the bulbously gleaming head, 
satin-smooth and fiery red. She blinked at the sight of the clear, 
preseminal pearl welling from the slit in its tip. 

"I wanna get my prick in that baby cunt," sneered Jake. "I wanna feel that 
little girl pussy milkin' me dry." 

He dropped his lanky weight on top of her, his pelvis cradled between her 
splayed thighs, but his upper body supported on muscled, sinewy, 
work-hardened arms. On either side, Shorty and Doug shifted slightly away 
without removing their sucking mouths from her nipples, making room for the 
man on the mattress as he levered his rigid penis into her open cunt. 

The mushroom headed cock parted the lips of her tender wet pussy, like a 
meat cleaver through soft butter, and then he forced the meaty cleaver in 
with one powerful lunge, using all of his brute strength to ram the hotly 
pulsating hunk of flesh deep into her fearfully quivering belly. It was an 
unfair assault. 

The ravished young blonde screamed aloud with the sudden stretching agony. 
Every vein and ridge of his lustfully hardened penis was rubbing her 
sensitive inner flesh as he slammed into her, his pubic bone crashing on 
hers as his balls slapped up tight and hard into her naked upturned 
buttocks. 

"Aaaaaggghhhh! You're hurting meeeee!" she sobbed pitifully. 

"Shut up, cunt!" the lanky trucker bellowed. "One more yell outta you and 
I'll knock your fucking head off!" Then insanely, as if to beat the clock, 
he began sawing in and out of her helpless vagina, oblivious to her groans 
of pain and humiliation. He pulled almost all the way out on each stroke, 
only to plunge back in again with a punishing speed and force that sent 
Kim's body lurching a half foot. Faster and deeper he drove his raping staff 
into her shuddering cunt, concerned only with his own satisfaction. This was 
not a woman he was using shamelessly, it was an object, an impersonal 
object. 

The sandpaper friction began to smooth as Kim's lubricants flooded her 
passage to make his savage invasion more bearable. It was self defense, her 
subconscious mind rationalized, but Kim's body spoke another story. 

She could neither move with nor against him; she could only lie on her back 
and accept his monstrous buffeting into a tender belly that protested 
painfully with every slamming stroke. Yet--she could never have explained 
why--suddenly she began to feel that his pummeling cudgel was not hurting as 
much, that her raw inner passage was adjusting to his vicious pounding! 

Kim's hips began to roll, countering his pile-driving thrusts, undulating up 
to him as she took his massive hunk of meat deep into her inflamed vaginal 
tunnel. She struggled to will her body quiet, but rebellious teenage flesh 
would have its way at any costs! 

Like a runaway steam engine, Jake's cock tunneled into the darkness of her 
pussy as he drove hell-bent for his orgasm. He let out a tortured moan and 
shuddered convulsively, driving his expanding fleshy staff deep into her 
clasping pussy, his balls slapping up against her full white buttocks in a 
lewd staccato rhythm. He held himself there, tensed with lust, while his 
lewd hot sperm hosed through him to splash in squirts high up against Kim's 
tender cervix. 

"Aaauuugggghhh! Christ--what a tight cunt!" he exploded as he collapsed over 
her wildly jerking thighs. "I swear that kid was a cherry yesterday!" 

Whimpering, moaning and thrashing her blonde head, Kim bucked up against her 
depleted lover-rapist, crazy for him to satisfy the devilish itch in her 
loins. Suddenly her pussy gushed with cool air and the weight lifted from 
her panting body. 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

"I'm sorry, but Kim Jeanne Jacobs is on the absentee list today," the 
principal's secretary said crisply. "Is there an emergency?" 

"No...." returned Helen weakly, resting the receiver down on the cradle and 
collapsing into the cushion of a nearby chair. 

Frantically, her polished fingertips scurried over the digits to 2242 
Windsor Street. The moistness of her sweaty palm left fingerprints on the 
shiny black telephone. 

Eight times it rang before Helen let the receiver drop. 

* * * 

Kim felt like a trapeze artist swinging in mid-air when her rapist-lover 
collapsed exhausted, spent and sated at the foot of the mattress, leaving 
her an unfulfilled urchin of need. 

"Hell, this is gonna take all day if we do her one at a time," grumbled 
Shorty, checking his watch. "Better we roll her ass over so she can handle 
more than one at a time!" 

Kim's lifeless, numbed body was flipped over, her hips hauled up until she 
was on her knees, her round, full-sculpted buttocks upturned nakedly in the 
air behind her as she rested on her dimpled elbows. Now what torture had 
they in store for her? she wondered dazed as kneeling behind her, Doug 
spread her defensively clenching ass cheeks wide and guided his rock hard 
penis straight up into the gratefully clasping cuntal sheath. Flicking his 
hips forward, he drove his aching manhood deep into her already 
sperm-slickened vaginal channel, undulating his pelvis in a gradually 
accelerating tempo as he slipped smoothly and wetly in and out. 

Could it be? Could it possibly be that her body was enjoying their rapacious 
ravagement? The ticklish folds of her sensitive and plundered genitals were 
blood-fed and hungry for more hot friction. A victim once more of the wild 
sensations of erotic delight flooding every nerve in her body, the violated 
girl ground her slender hips back against the trucker's pounding, hairy 
loins. Kim blinked, her nostrils flaring. Somebody... was it Shorty... it 
had to be from the folds of belly-flesh squatting before her blinking 
eyes--was commanding, "Here, baby doll--chew on this for awhile!" 

The sight of his stunted, uncircumcised penis wagging before her slightly 
parted lips was mesmerizing. Cruelly, he took her head between his hands and 
slipping one meaty thumb between her lips, forged open her mouth and held it 
that way while the unbelievable girth of his stubby penis slipped over her 
tongue to bang against her alcohol-numbed throat. 

The rubbery, pungent tasting head of his stalky penis drubbing into her 
mouth between her baby-soft ovalling lips stirred within the captive 
teenager a need to be dominated. 

"Shit...." she heard someone growl. "I gotta get me more of that tight assed 
cunt!" It was Jake, nursing an erection, growing with amazing speed. "I blew 
it too damned quick!" 

"I got 'er now," countered Doug. "You just had her!" 

"Then lemme have her ass... I ain' had one a them in a long time." 

"Ah, shit, that means I gotta take it out...." grumbled Doug. 

The horrified, teenager wanted to scream out in protest at the unbelievably 
terrifying suggestion, but her mouth was effectively gagged with the 
throbbing bulk of Shorty's cock, which was fucking madly in and out as she 
hollowed her cheeks to accommodate the meaty mouthful. Her pink, moist 
tongue bathed the pungent tasting tip of the cudgel, nibbling on it 
teasingly to prevent him from shoving the sausage down her throat. 
Remembering how the woman in her stepfather's bedroom had satisfied the man 
and pacified his cruelty by indulging him, Kim tried the same tack. She 
could feel his penis bloat in her mouth and knew he would soon explode his 
cum into her gullet... at least then that would be over with. 

If the mouth-fucking frightened her, the activity over her genitals was 
scaring her to death! They can't do it to me back there... 

that's inhuman! her mind screamed. 

But they did. Jake's rough hands, cupping the rounding orbs of her ass 
cheeks, slid down between her and the jack-hammering pelvis of Doug, 
searching insidiously as his fingers delved into her sweating nether crease 
for the palpitating pucker of her anus. Finding the tiny, wrinkled hole, he 
brutally pushed at it with the tip of one finger, the raping digit surging 
through the clenching ring of muscle into the spongy depths of her rectum as 
she jerked forward and away from the alien intrusion. Time was wasting... 
they must hurry. 

Having found the route to her inner depths, Jake shoved hard, adding a 
second finger to saw brutally in and out of the rubbery hole as Kim heaved 
herself up on her hands, tore her mouth free of Shorty's plunging cock and 
screamed from the depths of her soul: "OOooooooh! God--that hurts!" 

Then she yelped. Someone had whelped her across the buttocks. "Shuddup, you 
stupid cunt! We warned you before!" 

"You--you can't do th-that to meeee!" she wailed, elephantine tears 
squirting out her widened eyes to splatter upon Shorty's girthy penis. He 
groaned with pleasure. 

She felt her ravager pull his fingers free of her seared back passage, and 
Kim's hopes grew that her pleas had been answered. But those hopes were 
extinguished when she felt hands splaying her buttocks far apart to expose 
her completely. A cool gush of air tickled the sensitive flesh around her 
fearfully puckering rectum... soon to be warmed by the rubbery feel of a 
wetted cock head smoothing its lubricants over her cringing anal mouth. 
"Ahhhhhhh!" 

The man behind Kim flexed his hips, forcefully thrusting that taut head of 
his wetly gleaming penis an inch into the warm sponginess of her anus. Kim 
gave a loud groan, but Shorty's penis muffled that protest soon enough. He 
flexed his hips and rammed his cock halfway down to her gullet, scraping 
against her tonsils as it went. 

"Shuddup or I'll make you swallow it!" he growled. 

Jake pushed harder into the smooth rubbery flesh, sinking his hardened shaft 
another tortured inch. The lustfully raped teenager felt as though a red hot 
poker were being shoved up her belly between her open ass-cheeks. "Ram it 
all the way up her ass, man!" hissed Doug, anxious to get his prick back 
into her cunt. 

With superhuman effort that made Jake's chest muscles tense visibly, he 
strained with all the force of his back and legs... and finally managed to 
drive his massive, blood-engorged penis all the way into her tightly 
resisting anus with one ass-splitting lunge. The pain was like nothing Kim 
had ever imagined. She screamed soundlessly around Shorty's muffling penis 
as a roaring in her ears threatened to over come her. 

He left it there, buried in the warm depths of her anus, while the torn 
muscles adjusted to the rude intrusion inflicted upon its privacy. The 
rectal mouth clung possessively to his throbbing penis and gradually the 
pain abated for both. 

Then she felt herself being moved, flipped over. Jake wrapped his muscular 
arms tightly around her and rolled to his side, carrying the brutally 
impaled teenager with him. Then he squirmed over onto his back, heaving her 
up to lie face upward on his belly, his steel-hard cock still sunk far up 
inside her wide-stretched anal canal. 

Panting hoarsely, Doug kneeled down between her quivering legs and Jake's, 
pulling her knees brutally up slightly to splay the tapering columns of her 
tortured thighs wider still. He guided his throbbing penis tip right into 
her coralline fleshed vagina and shoved, grunting. 

Kim Jeanne Jacobs was thrice impaled on the truckers' rock hard, angry 
penises! Three kinds of pain and three kinds of slowly building pleasure! 
She flailed her head, her blonde waves tossing about her ravager's thighs. 
These men were dominating her, overwhelming her senses and body as had the 
incestuous coupling of her stepfather and stepbrother. She felt helpless and 
girlish, devoid of guilt and the will to fight. As with her stepfather, she 
succumbed to their torturous demands because they were men and she a young, 
naive woman on the threshold of discovering her feminine nature and totally 
awed by the dominance of the male gender. 

Little by little, as Jake began grinding in and out of her already 
passion-inflamed young cunt, Kim began undulated her hips up to meet him, 
finding that by relaxing her inner muscles the pain lessened. She skewered 
backwards, trapping more of his penis deeper into her straining rectum. 
After a few moments, the rapture seething through her loins took over and 
experimentally, she began to return their thrusts stroke for stroke. 

Shorty, up on his pudgy knees, belly folds sweating from the joy of Kim's 
nibbling lips, rocked on his rounded haunches to fuck into Kim's angelic 
face. The little girl nibbles were quickly maturing into womanly suckings, 
vacuuming the seed from his balls, to the rhythm of the two men plunging in 
and out of her violated cunt and anus. 

Don was sitting on the edge of the chair, watching intently the ravishment 
of the young blonde runaway. Who was raping who was a valid question now as 
he listened to the kittenish mewlings spilling from her throat around the 
heady girth of Shorty's mouth-stroking penis. The mattress was alive with 
flailing legs and doubled-up arms, a canvas of lust there laid out before 
his dazzled eyes. To watch uninvolved was a growing impossibility for the 
trucker. If it was joy they were giving that honey haired darling, then he 
wanted to be part of the gift. Rape was not his game... he'd learned that 
from last week's hitchhiker they'd left in a motel room such as was the plan 
for this one. 

Don stripped out of his pants and shirt and ambled over to the tangle of 
nakedly heaving bodies and, picking up one of Kim's clawing hands, wrapped 
it around his massive shaft. Curling her fingers around the throbbing pole 
of flesh, the seventeen year-old milked her hand up and down its hard length 
to indicate recognition of his desires. 

Kim's body had become a goosebumped mass of rubbery flesh anxious to receive 
pleasure and give it. The earlier, uncompleted mastery of her body started 
by Carl was finally reaching its zenith. Surrounded by nakedly squirming, 
domineering men, she fell compliant to their wishes. There was nothing in 
the world but ravaging cocks--cock in her desperately clasping cunt, cock 
sawing into her searing anus, and cock filling her frantically sucking mouth 
while she pumped her hand up and down on still another cock! A concert of 
obscene movement rhapsodized amongst the five nude bodies, the tempo 
increasing second by second as the room filled with the lustful moans and 
snorts of men in the heat of dominating a single member of the weaker sex. 

They all wanted a piece of her! Would she ever outgrow the need for male 
attention? Kim began to cum... and cum... and cum... She orgasmed in her 
belly, in her mouth and in her anus. Around Shorty's bloated cock she 
muffled out a scream: "Aaaaaaaggghhhhh!" 

It triggered the wild staccato jerking of Shorty's cock in her mouth. The 
hot creamy sperm jetted deep and thick into her gaping mouth; she swallowed 
convulsively to keep from choking as the viscous fluid spurted scaldingly 
against the back of her tender throat. 

That did it for the others: Doug and Jake began to spew their loads into her 
dually pierced loins. She could feel both insanely pumping, filling her 
belly, drubbing from the cuntal and anal sides of the tender membrane as if 
vying for space in those tiny, cock-filled channels of her supple, seventeen 
year-old body. 

Hovering above her, knees bent and weak, Don watched the two men collapse 
atop the velvety skinned beauty. With a grunt of greedy rage, he threw them 
aside and, sinking between Kim's wide spread knees, rammed his penis hard 
and deep into the sperm filled hole of her cunt to fuck her savagely into a 
second orgasm. 

As the second orgasm hit, Kim blacked out... 

From a distance... moments later, she heard muffled voices and the slam of a 
door. 

 CHAPTER TWELVE 

Kim Jacobs stood on the steps of her grandmother's house, the warm autumn 
breezes playing teasingly through the long golden strands of her hair 
whipped about her tired, young face. Twice her fist raised to knock, and 
twice the impulse fled. Two days on the road had created within her 
seventeen year-old soul a desperate hunger for familial warmth. Now she was 
ambivalent. 

Kim knew all too well the reason for that fleeting hunger. Could she face 
her mother after the disheartening betrayal of her stepfather? No... she 
must never tell her mother; she must keep that hurt inside until time 
squeezed dry those ugly emotions. And the truckers... they had hurt her, 
too. Had it not been for the motel owner who bought her a bus ticket to 
Atlanta and reported the miscreants to the police, Kim might have come to 
distrust all of humanity. 

Again her hand reached for the door knob. It twisted before she touched it. 

"Kim! Oh, my Kim!" It was Helen Jacobs, falling upon her daughter and 
weeping into her hair. "My dear Lord, but I've been worried about you!" she 
sobbed, stroking back her daughter's baby soft hair and kissing her 
forehead. 

Arms linked, they stepped inside the living room where the tall, dark form 
clad in the familiar faded levis and football jersey stood pensively staring 
out into the garden beyond, hands plunged deep into his pockets. Helen 
disappeared into the kitchen. 

Carl Sanchez spun around. The morning sun playing in the blackness of his 
wavy, thick hair brought a smile to Kim's lips. 

"I came to your mother because I didn't know what else to do. I--I guess 
Dad's gone, huh?" 

Kim's dimpled chin tremored from pent-up emotion far too troublesome for a 
female of her tender years. "I--I don't know...." A delicate finger wiped at 
an errant tear purling down her flushed cheek. "I don't want to talk about 
it," she choked. 

"Don't worry, I'll never let anything bad happen to you ever again, little 
sister," In a rush of motion as compulsive as his feelings, Carl hugged Kim 
to his chest. "I hated myself for splitting like that... but I'll never 
split on you again." 

Kim returned the affection, whimpering mewls coming from her emotion-tensed 
throat. Carl had not betrayed her; at least there was one man in the world 
who really cared enough to protect her. 

"You think Atlanta High's got foxy cheerleaders?" he chuckled. 

Kim hugged her stepbrother tight. Life could return to normal--Friday night 
football games and parking under the stars. 


THE END
