Mothers Sacrifice
by Regina White
(LLP-892)


CHAPTER ONE 

Darlene Cairns rolled down the driver's window of the station wagon and let 
the summer wind whip her face and her long, wavy red hair. The two-lane road 
she was driving on was straight as a string, the only break in the monotony 
being an occasional low, rolling hill. On either side of the road were 
little farms, stands of maple and beech trees, and brilliant green fields. 
Mrs. Cairns had left the city on a sudden impulse and was glad of it. New 
York had been muggy and nasty, and though the weather was exactly the same 
in the county-side, maybe even a little hotter, it somehow seemed refreshing 
to her. 

Actually, it had been more than just the sweltering summer in the city that 
had driven her out of her Manhattan townhouse. Her husband of eighteen 
years, Bill, had gone off on another of his "two week" business trips that 
always seemed to stretch on into three and a half weeks. That morning, after 
Bill had left, she'd sat around the townhouse and considered all the things 
she could get done with him gone ... the repainting of the bathroom, the 
carpet cleaning that she'd been putting off for so long, the purchase of 
some new bedroom furniture for the guest room. And after making a careful 
list of these things, she decided that she couldn't face doing any of them. 
Even with lots of constructive tasks to keep her hands busy, she knew that 
once left alone she'd start regretting again, regretting that she'd married 
a man in love with his business, that she hadn't backed out of the marriage 
long before, that she'd invested so much of her life in an empty, loveless 
enterprise, that she'd allowed herself to become just another housewife. The 
soul-searching went on and on and invariably came to absolutely nothing. 
Darlene never even came close to leaving Bill. She was, in her own words, 
"faithful as a dog" to him, though she'd had ample evidence over the years, 
not only of his neglect, but his cheating as well. 

After ripping up her "things to do" list, Darlene felt an overpowering urge 
to visit her two sons, who had been shipped off to summer school at an 
upstate military academy by their father. The stated reason why Chuck, 17, 
and Tommy, 16, had been sent to Valley View Academy was so they could make 
up some failing grades and poor citizenship marks they'd earned in a 
Manhattan private school, but the real reason was that their father felt 
they weren't getting the kind of strict discipline they needed from the posh 
prep school. Bill Cairns was all for discipline. He'd only recently retired 
from the Army as a lieutenant colonel with twenty-five years of stateside, 
non-combat duty behind him. If it'd been up to Bill, the boys would have 
gone to Valley View in the first place, spent the whole year there, getting 
"tough," as he put it, but Darlene wouldn't hear of it. It was bad enough 
that she had no husband three-fourths of the time; for her to lose her 
children, too, would've been too much to bear. 

She had tried to warn the boys to keep their grades up, that their father 
wanted to send them to military school anyway and would use bad grades as an 
excuse to do it over her objections, but they didn't listen to her. The 
really frustrating thing for her was knowing that it was all almost 
predestined to happen. The boys were essentially growing up without a 
father, and because of it they did lack discipline. They were still good 
boys, though, not nearly as wild as some, and Darlene loved them very much. 
In a way, she was thankful for their sake that Bill was gone so much. She 
had a gut-level feeling that if he had always been there, wielding the iron 
hand, they would've run away from home by now and she would've really lost 
them. 

Darlene tried not to think about any of that as she drove along. Her mind 
was filled with the anticipated joy of a mother and son reunion and the 
splendor of the bright summer day all around her. She was so wrapped up in 
her daydreaming that she completely forgot to watch the gas gauge. When she 
did finally glance down and see the needle sitting just above the empty 
mark, she got a sudden surge of adrenalin that sent her heart pounding. She 
could vaguely remember passing a whole cluster of gas stations a ways back, 
and for a second she considered turning around. As nice as the day was, she 
didn't want to get stuck on the country road. It being a weekday, the 
traffic was extremely light and there was no telling how long she'd have to 
wait for help if she ran out of gas. Then, as she came up over the top of a 
gradual rise, she saw a service station up ahead on the right. 

Her elation faded rapidly as she turned into the driveway and pulled up 
beside the rusty, old-fashioned pumps. The building on the other side of the 
hard-packed and deeply rutted dirt yard was in a shambles, its shingled roof 
deeply bowed, windows broken out, the ripped screen door hanging by a single 
hinge. A scarred, peeling, hand printed sign over the small, sagging front 
porch said: "Cottage Grove General Store and Garage." A smaller sign, also 
homemade, was nailed to the weather beaten front of the building. It said: 
"4 Sale by Owner." 

Darlene was just about to drive off when a young man stepped out from behind 
the far side of the building and walked gingerly in front of her car. He 
looked to be about twenty and was tall and lean. He was wearing a pair of 
tan corduroy hiking shorts, hiking boots, and a red bandana tied around his 
forehead. He had no shirt on. He was very tan and muscular and his wispy 
brown beard, like his thick, curly brown hair, was touched with gold from 
long exposure to the sun. Over his right shoulder, he carried a small day 
pack. 

For a second, Darlene thought that he might work at the station. The 
implication of the rucksack didn't sink in right away, perhaps because she 
wanted so much to get her gas tank filled. At any rate, instead of driving 
off the instant he stepped out of the path of her car, she remained where 
she was, waiting for him to walk up to her open window. 

"Afternoon, ma'am," he said, his eyes pale blue and his teeth very white 
against the tan of his face. 

"Could you sell me some gas?" she asked, hopefully. 

The young man gave her a curious look. "Running low, are you?" he said, 
putting his hands on the edge of the window and casually peering in at the 
instrument panel. That wasn't all the young man was peering at, either. He 
made no attempt to hide the fact that he was staring at the round, snowy 
mounds of her breasts, enticingly revealed above the plunging neckline of 
her summery frock. And he was close enough to her so that she could smell 
the sweet, manly scent of his body. Darlene shivered, not quite knowing why. 

"Is this station open or not?" she said, icily. 

"Nope," he said. "It hasn't been open for years from the looks of it." She 
glanced over at him, first at his face. Then her eyes moved down over his 
smooth, almost hairless chest, taking in the tiny pinkish tan rings of his 
nipples and the rigid muscles of his stomach under the bronzed skin. He was 
built like some kind of Greek god, she thought. Even as she thought that, 
she got a strange sinking sensation in the pit of her belly, a feeling of 
sudden weakness that was very alarming. She jerked her gaze from the tufts 
of straight brown hair under his arms and said, "Then you don't work here?" 
It was a dumb question and she knew it before she finished speaking, but 
once she'd started she couldn't stop. 

"No, my name's Jim Turner," he said. "I'm a student at N.Y.U ... I'm 
hitchhiking around the rural part of the state this summer, trying to 
collect material for a book I'm going to write as a senior project next 
year. Say, if you're heading north, you wouldn't mind giving me a lift, 
would you? This road isn't exactly bumper to bumper traffic. Your car is the 
first I've seen in more than an hour." 

Darlene shook her head, answering automatically. "Sorry," she said, "but I 
don't ever pick up strangers." 

"Hey, but I'm not a stranger," he said, grinning amiably. "I'm Jim Turner, 
future novelist. Give me a lift and you can say you knew me when. Why, I 
might even put you in my book. Come on. Please?" 

"Sorry," she said, trying to give the word an edge of finality. The young 
hitchhiker made her nervous and she was anxious to be off, away from him. 

"How many miles to the gallon does this thing get?" he asked. 

"I beg your pardon?" she said, a bit taken aback by his sudden change of 
interest. 

"How many miles to the gallon?" he repeated, patting the driver door. 
"Eleven, twelve?" 

"Thirteen on the highway," she answered. She was sure that he was just 
trying to stall her until he could think of a way to wheedle a ride from 
her. "I have to go now." 

"Okay, lady," he said, "but you'll never make it to the next station." 

Darlene blinked at him. "That's right," he went on, smiling back. "The next 
station is almost twenty miles from here. You're never going to get that far 
on what you've got left. You need me as much I need you." 

She stiffened at that. "I don't see how...." she began. He cut her off with 
a wave of his hand. "Look, lady," he said, quickly, "it's a sure thing that 
you're going to run out of gas ... and when you do, you're going to have to 
hitchhike to the next gas station and then hitchhike back to your car with a 
can of gas. If I go along with you, I'll hitchhike both ways with you. A 
pretty woman like you wouldn't be safe on this road hitching alone." 

Darlene felt flattered, despite herself, that the young man would think she 
was attractive. Bill hadn't paid her a compliment like that in years. She 
realized that the hitchhiker was probably just trying to get on the good 
side of her, to butter her up, but that didn't change the fact that, whether 
she was really pretty or not, she was a woman, and hitchhiking alone was 
dangerous for any woman, even in broad daylight. 

"How do I know that I'm safe with you?" she said, trying to keep the 
question from sounding provocative. 

He beamed at her. "If you can't trust a future novelist, who can you trust?" 
he said, quickly rounding the front of the car and opening the passenger 
door. Before Darlene could think better of it, he had tossed his day pack 
into the back seat and had sat down in the front with her, closing, then 
locking the door behind him. The station wagon suddenly seemed very small to 
her and she was painfully aware of his sun browned knees and the little 
golden hairs on his lean thighs. 

"You're wasting gas, ma'am," he said. 

Darlene immediately shifted the car into gear and drove away from the rusted 
pumps and back onto the roadway. They rode in silence for about half a mile 
before he spoke up. 

"You're married, huh?" he said, indicating the ring on her finger. 

She nodded. 

"Happily?" 

Darlene flinched, jerking her eyes to his. "Hey, easy, now," he said, waving 
his hands at her. "You can't take anything I say personally. I'm a novelist, 
remember? You've got to understand that I'm sort of like an inquiring 
reporter ... only I'm not interested in facts so much as feelings and moods. 
Anything you tell me isn't going to go any further. It's not my job to 
retell the stories of the people I meet, so much as it's to make up new 
stories using the tidbits that intrigue me. Really, there's nothing to 
concern yourself about. After all, I don't even know your name, do I? You 
know more about me than I know about you." 

She looked back at the road. "Unhappily," she said. She surprised herself a 
little by being so candid about it with a stranger, but the fact that she 
didn't know him, that she was certain she'd never seen him again made it 
remarkably easy for her to let down her hair. 

"I thought so," he said, nodding. "Really?" she said, raising an eyebrow. 
"And how could you tell something like that?" He let his eyes move down from 
her face, down over her slender neck, her smooth breasts peeping over the 
top of her low-cut bodice, her trim waist, ripely curving hips, and 
elegantly long legs. A smile passed over his face, lighting up his eyes. 
"Vibrations," he said. "Vibrations." 

Darlene laughed nervously at that. "Oh, excuse me!" she said, catching 
herself. "I don't mean to be rude, but, well, the word 'vibrations' sounds 
so, I don't know, out of character coming from a soon-to-be big time writer. 
It reminds me of California and surfing ... and maybe seances." 

Jim didn't bat an eye. "When was the last time you had some?" he said. 

"What?!" Darlene said. 

"You heard me," he went on smoothly, smugly, "and you know exactly what I 
mean. When was the last time you and your hubby made it? Months and months, 
I'll bet." She felt her face blush, the hot blood rushing into her cheeks, 
and her hands tightened on the steering wheel until the knuckles went white 
from the strain. She was as shocked by her own reaction to his indecent 
questions as she was to the questions themselves. In an instant, seemingly 
without any effort at all, the handsome hitchhiker had stirred up a hornet's 
nest of turbulent emotions within her. She considered swerving the car over 
onto the shoulder of the road and demanding that he get out, but realized 
that if he didn't get out, if he chose to just sit there and stare at her, 
there was nothing she could do to force him. Rather than risk enduring that 
sort of humiliating scene, she continued to drive, her eyes straight ahead. 

"Hey, come on," he said, sliding his arm over the back of the seat. "I told 
you not to take anything I said personally. I'm just trying to draw you out, 
to make you show me who you are and why." 

"Oh," she said, flatly. 

He grinned at her. "You do give off vibrations, you know," he told her. 

"I wouldn't know," she said. "But I would." 

"Because you're a novelist?" she said nastily. "Nope," he said, "because I'm 
a man. You give off hot vibrations, lady. It's been a real long time, hasn't 
it?" 

She jerked her face around and looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. 
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, "but I wish you'd stop. 
You're frightening me." 

"Am I?" he said, looking her over again, slowly. "No, I think that you're 
frightening yourself. I'm just showing you how you really feel and it scares 
the pants off you." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," she repeated. Jim shook his head. 
"What I don't understand," he said, "is how any man could keep his hands off 
of you? God, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen! That 
husband of yours must be a mental case or a faggot or something." 

Darlene felt her face blush again, this time from his compliment. She hated 
herself for the weakness she was showing him, for the pathetic quivering of 
her lower lip, for the rosy color in her cheeks, and she hated him for the 
way he was manipulating her, toying with her emotions. 

"What my husband is or isn't is none of your business!" she said. He smiled 
warmly. "Your eyes are the loveliest shade of green," he went on. "Almost 
lime green, aren't they? When you look at me like that, I swear it feels 
like you're looking right down into my soul." He stared at her firm breasts 
and trim legs again. "And when I look at your body, when I think of those 
marvelous curves going to waste, it hurts me inside, like knives twisting." 

Darlene said nothing. She thought she could almost feel his eyes traveling 
over her, moving gently but firmly like caressing fingertips over the 
sensitive skin of her breasts, over the suddenly tingling, aching peaks of 
her nipples. She was horribly confused by the sensations coursing over her 
body, by the growing warmth between her smooth, slender thighs. She bit her 
lower lip hard, trying to stop its idiotic trembling, trying to shut out the 
unwanted feeling of excitement with sharp pain. 

Then he moved his hand along the back of the seat and touched her hair, 
feeling it between his fingertips. "So soft," he said, with obvious 
pleasure. "And so red! It's natural, isn't it?" 

She didn't answer. She kept her eyes straight ahead, hardly breathing. Now 
he was the one giving off the "hot vibrations" and she could feel them 
washing over her, stifling her, draining her of all her strength. Deep down 
in her belly, she knew that he was on the verge of doing something, 
something lewd, and she wanted to push his hand away from her hair, but 
couldn't seem to unclench her fingers from the steering wheel. 

"And I bet," he said, his voice suddenly thick and choked, "your other hair 
is just as red, isn't it?" 

The young mother's face blushed crimson and she began to sob. "NO! NOOO!!" 
she cried. "NO, GETAWAY FROM ME!!" 

Instead of doing what she demanded, the young man reached around her back 
and gripped her left shoulder with his smooth, warm fingers and held her 
tight "I don't believe you," he said, scooting over on the seat until they 
sat thigh to thigh. "I want to see for myself." 

Darlene tried her best to squirm away from him, but he had her wedged 
against the door. It was like a horrible nightmare come true. She felt 
suffocated, panicked, and there was no place for her to go, no escape. 

"STOP! PLEASE, LEAVE ME ALONE!" she whined, writhing on the seat as she felt 
his other hand drop to touch her knee, pushing up the hem of her skirt, 
exposing the silky, creamy skin of her legs and thighs. As she twisted under 
the unwanted caress, the station wagon careened madly, cutting back and 
forth across the roadway's center line. 

"Now, now," he said, soothingly, "don't you go and run us off the road and 
into the ditch. That's better. Much better. You just keep it up and I'll 
tell you a nice little story. It just popped into my head. I think you'll 
enjoy it. It's about a sexy redheaded woman who picks up a horny young 
college kid on a lonely country road. Both of them want to get it on real 
bad, but there's no place for them to turn off, no place private." 

Darlene had heard enough. She grabbed his hand by the wrist and pushed it 
off her thigh, but he, in turn, caught her fingers and forced them down 
against his leg. Her fingers closed around something blazing hot, something 
smooth and bulbous, something that throbbed against her palm, something that 
oozed warm, silky fluid over her fingers. 

"God!!" she gasped, recoiling violently, snapping her eyes down to his 
crotch. Her heart pounded agonizingly in her throat as she stared at what 
she had touched, at what was sticking obscenely out of the inside of the leg 
of his hiking shorts: the huge, bulging head of his erect penis! The blunt 
tip was smeared with thick white semen and the spongy rim flared lewdly, 
bloated to the bursting point with hot, pulsing blood. 

Jim continued his story, his breathing growing heavier, more ragged by the 
second. "So, the young guy reaches down and pushes up the woman's dress," he 
said. "No, please!" she wailed, trying to keep her skirt down while he was 
doing his damndest to shove it way up over her stomach. He was too strong 
for her and too determined. She let out a low moan of shame and horror as he 
ripped the fabric from her fingers, as he exposed her from ankles to navel. 

"Man!" the hitchhiker gasped as he leered at the tiny, pale green lace 
triangle that was the front of her skimpy bikini panties, at the mass of 
shiny red hairs that could be plainly seen right through it, hairs that 
topped and fringed the jutting mound of her cunt, as he leered at her slim 
waist and smooth hips, the latter covered only by a super-narrow band of 
green elastic...." And pulls her panties down," he croaked, grabbing for the 
tiny waistband. 

"NOOO!!" Darlene cried, locking her knees together, raking the back of his 
hand with her nails. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, jerking his hand back, wincing at 
the stinging pain. He glared at her menacingly, and when he spoke the 
playful tone in his voice was gone. "After he gets her panties off," he 
said, "when she's sitting bare ass naked on the driver's seat, he makes her 
put her left foot on the gas pedal and lifts her right foot up until the 
heel sits on the edge of the seat, so her knee is right up against her big, 
soft tits, so her red haired pussy is tipped up real nice. Then, while she 
drives on, looking for a place for them to pull off, he gets down on the 
floorboard on his knees and buries his face in her cunt, licking the hairy 
lips, sucking on them, chewing them, squirming his tongue between them and 
working it deep into her hot pussy." 

Darlene shook her head violently. Over and over, she told herself that she 
didn't want anything like that to happen to her, that she was a decent 
woman, a wife and a mother, that she was practically old enough to be the 
hitchhiker's mother, that she was revolted to the core by his obscene 
proposition, but she couldn't deny the swirling dizziness in her head or the 
feeling between her legs, the sensation of extreme heat, the sensation of 
wetness oozing from between the tingling, hair-matted lips of her vagina. 
She could almost feel his face pressed hard against her naked loins, just 
the way he was describing it; she could imagine the tickling scratch of his 
soft beard against her most secret places, the hungry squirming of his lips 
over her wetly parted labia, the obscene, slithering caress of his long 
tongue as it explored her juicy furrow, as it rubbed insightfully against 
her swollen, sensitive clitoris. Her cheeks were burning with fever and she 
could hardly catch her breath. She wanted to fight him, to defend herself 
from his lewd assault, but she was so weak she couldn't lift a finger. 

"NOOOOOO, PLEASE!!" she desperately wailed as he suddenly slipped from the 
seat, as he knelt on the floorboard, his hands sliding up the outsides of 
her thighs, sending chills shooting up her spine, making the flames in her 
loins leap higher. She made a futile, pathetic attempt to stop him while he 
slid his fingers in under the waistband of her panties and jerked them down, 
hauling them down over the saucy, pale cheeks of her buttocks, down to her 
mid-thigh. The hot sunlight streaming in through the windshield hit Darlene 
right on the bare cunt and she whimpered. Never in her life had anything 
like this happened! She was being brutally stripped! And a strange man was 
leering at her naked pussy! 

The stranger wanted to see more, too. He ripped her panties down around her 
ankles and pulled them off her left foot, leaving the tiny, damp garment 
dangling limply around her right. Then his hands were at her sleek white 
knees, pushing at them, forcing them apart. Though she sobbed and twisted on 
the seat, she couldn't hold her legs closed. As her knees came open, as her 
whole crotch was exposed to his view, Darlene went rigid, her arms stiff out 
from the shoulders, hands strangling the steering wheels. In a state of 
shock, she drove on mechanically, unable to stop her head's spinning, unable 
to think of any way out of her predicament. 

"Beautiful!" the young man groaned as he looked right into the wet and 
pinkly gleaming slit of her ripe cunt. The hair that tufted above it and 
sprouted on either side of it was dense, red and soft. It clung in moist 
little ringlets to the puckering, juicy flesh of her inflamed pussy lips. 
Beneath the sticky gash, her buttocks were like supple full moons, and 
directly under the glistening mouth of her vagina, between the firm, fleshy 
cheeks of her ass, the tiny, wrinkled pink ring of her anus winked 
reflexively. 

When he grabbed her right foot, pulling it from the gas pedal, then put her 
left one in its place. Darlene whined softly. It was just like the story 
he'd told her! It was all going to happen just as he'd said! He was going to 
make her keep on driving along the lonely road while he licked and tongued 
her naked pussy! Even as he bent her right leg up, tipping her vagina toward 
his flushed face, she knew that she was a goner, that her cause was lost; 
though he hadn't completed the story for her, she knew how it was going to 
end. He was going to suck her pussy until he'd had enough, until it flowered 
open under his lashing, swirling tongue, then he was going to make her pull 
off the road, behind a stand of trees or an old barn, where he would take 
her into the back of the station wagon, fold down the rear seat so he had 
the whole cargo area to work in, then rape her again and again until she 
blacked out. 

"God, can you smell it?!!" he moaned excitedly, working himself into 
position in front of her. Darlene could smell it, all right. The scent of 
her own arousal, musky and dank, was wafting up over her trembling white 
belly and into her nostrils. That odor shamed her even more than the obscene 
pose she was being forced to assume. That odor was proof positive of her 
excitement and it made her want to shrivel up and die. She thought of Bill, 
of Chuck and Tommy, of what they would think if they could see her now. She 
began to cry. 

"SO FUCKING SMOOTH!" Jim gasped, pressing his hot lips against the silky 
skin of her thighs, kissing, licking the sweetly scented flesh. smearing his 
thick saliva over it. She shuddered violently at the feel of his mouth on 
her, at the feel of his beard scratching. He was moaning between her 
obscenely splayed legs, moaning ecstatically as he kissed and slurped, 
working closer and closer to the quivering, red bearded slit. Those moans 
vibrated right through her flesh, shaking her to the core, teasing, taunting 
her, driving her wild. She wanted to scream to relieve the horrible pressure 
of the hot blood pounding in her skull, but she did not. In seconds, she 
knew that he was going to be doing that to her pussy, groaning, grunting 
slavishly into it as he gorged himself on the viscous, oozing juices, on the 
seething, buttery flesh. She knew that what he'd said was true, that he was 
going to make her cum, and she was no longer sure that she wanted to stop 
him. 

"BABY, BABY," he babbled, his mouth kissing down the back of her thigh, down 
into the soft hollow between thigh and pussy mound. In the same frantic 
instant, she felt the crisp hairs of his beard tease over her parted slit 
and she saw, looming up over the top of a rise ahead of them, the red, white 
and blue sign of a gas station, a spanking, brand new gas station. A 
galvanic shock bolted through her loins as the young man moaned against the 
side of her bare cunt, his hot breath rushing over the swollen, ragged 
petals. For a second, her mind was filled with a wicked, wicked thought. She 
could drive on past the station. pretend that it didn't exist. She could let 
the handsome young man do what he so desperately hungered to do to her wet 
pussy. The idea was so staggering to her sense of self that she physically 
recoiled from it. 

"NO!!" she howled, stamping down on the accelerator with her left foot, 
mashing it to the floor. The station wagon lurched ahead, tires squealing, 
smoking on the tarmac. Jim raised his head, his eyes wide with alarm, just 
as the full force of the acceleration hit. His head snapped forward, 
smacking hard into her hip, then jerked back. 

"Owww!" he wailed as the back of his head bashed against the dashboard. 
Darlene swerved the big car up into the gas station's driveway and hit the 
brakes, bringing it to a screeching halt beside the outer island of pumps. 
Jim, clutching at the back of his head with both hands, quickly got back up 
on the seat, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed where he had been. 

Before he could get his wits about him, Darlene reached down, snatched her 
panties off her right foot, and stuffed them into her purse. Then she took 
the keys from the ignition and got out of the car, marching straight toward 
the station's rest rooms. She passed a uniformed attendant on the way and 
told him to fill her car up with super. Once safely inside the ladies' room, 
Darlene completely feel apart. Sobbing brokenly, she berated herself for 
being so stupid, so gullible. The hitchhiker's story about the nearest gas 
station being twenty miles away had been an obvious lie. She should've known 
that he would have said anything to get into the car with her. He had 
figured that long before they'd reached this station he would've seduced her 
... and she alone knew just how close he'd come to succeeding. Waves of 
shame and guilt swept over her and she cried until she had no more tears 
left. Finally, she put her panties back on, then quickly washed her face, 
removing the smeared makeup. 

When she walked back to the car, the young man was still sitting in the 
front seat. He rolled down the window as she approached. 

"You lied about the gas station," she said, turning to pay the attendant for 
the fill-up. The hitchhiker grinned sheepishly at her. "You can't blame a 
guy for trying," he said. He waited until the attendant had left, then 
added, "Come on, lady, get in quick. Let's get out of here. I got a boner 
that just won't quit! There's a spot just up a road a bit where we can 
really go to it." 

Darlene glared at him. He was sitting in her car like he owned it, like he 
wasn't ever going to get out. She realized that his dogged persistence 
probably got him a lot of girls. He wore them down until they'd do anything 
to get rid of him. She wasn't about to give him any more chances with her. 

"Sure," she said, beaming at him, then reaching for the car's back door, 
"but I think I'd better move your gear before we get rolling." 

"Wait, I'll do it," he said, but she already had hold of the pack's strap. 
Instead of adjusting it on the rear seat, Darlene yanked it from the car 
and, holding it at arm's length like it was a dead cat, she walked quickly 
over to the nearest trash can, which was almost full of empty oil cans, 
greasy rags, and fast food debris, and dropped it in. 

For a moment, the young man couldn't believe his eyes. He just sat there 
gawking at her. Then he reacted. "Hey!!" he cried, much, much too late. 
"Hey!!!" He tore at the lock button, wrenched the door open, and jumped out 
of the car. By that time, Darlene was already rounding the back of the 
wagon, her heels clicking on the cement. And by the time he reached the 
trash can, she was already behind the car's steering wheel, slipping the key 
into the ignition, turning it, gunning it to life. 

"Hey!! Wait!!!" Jim cried. Darlene had no intention of waiting. She roared 
out of the station, car doors swinging wide open, then slamming shut from 
the force of the acceleration, and she didn't look back until the future 
novelist, his soiled pack, and the gas station were no longer in sight. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

An hour later, Darlene turned off the road at the big white sign that said: 
"Valley View Academy." The sign rested on a stone base made up of huge, 
smoothly rounded rocks, as did the black, wrought iron gate across the 
entrance. The gate was open so she drove on in. 

The campus was quite lovely, everything so neat and clean that it looked 
like a painting. There were gnarled old oak trees shading the drive and the 
lush grass of the grounds was clipped short. The driveway was circular, or 
to be more exact, oval-shaped. In the middle of the oval was a broad area of 
grass about the size of a football field. In the center of the open field 
was an old cannon on wheels with a stack of cannon balls beside it. To the 
left of the cannon was a flagpole with colors waving. The academy buildings 
were all painted stark white and all had the same colonial architecture with 
more of the rounded stones used for foundations, staircases and walkways. 

She parked the station wagon in front of the administration building and got 
out. As she did, she saw a group of cadets marching in formation on an 
asphalt parade ground to her right. They were practicing their close order 
drill. In their khaki uniforms and military style, billed hats, they looked 
like they'd all been stamped out of the same mold. Though she wasn't more 
than fifty feet from them, she couldn't tell if any of the boys were her 
sons, and that troubled her. She didn't like the idea that Chuck and Tommy 
had been turned into little toy soldiers. 

She turned quickly from the marching cadets and walked up the stone stairs 
of the double front doors of the administration building, then pushed 
through them, into the cool, antiseptically clean hallway. The linoleum on 
the floor had been buffed so long and hard that its shine was almost 
blinding. She kept on walking straight down the hall, looking up at the 
little plastic signs sticking out at right angles from above the closed 
doors. When she came to the one that read "Headmaster," she stopped, turned 
the brass doorknob, and entered. 

The young man in uniform behind the reception room desk stood up at once, 
the picture of military courtesy, or so it seemed. His hair was cut so short 
that it was impossible to tell what color it was, and the skin of his head 
was deeply tanned. His eyes were rather small and brown and the most 
distinguishing feature of his face was a flat, broad nose. On the flap of 
his left shirt pocket he wore a little black plastic nameplate that said: 
"Mr. D. Lee." 

"May I be of service to you, ma'am?" he said, standing in an "at ease" 
position before her, his eyes dropping to take in her lush breasts and a 
tiny smirk creeping across his wide, thick-lipped mouth. 

The stocky young man's tone was mocking and insolent and it angered Darlene. 
"I want to see my sons," she said curtly. "Chuck and Tommy Cairns." 

Mr. Lee gave her a pained look. "You're Mrs. Cairns?" he asked. 

"Yes, of course," she answered. Then she added, "Will you take my word for 
it or do I have to show some sort of identification?" 

"No, no, I'm sure that won't be necessary, Mrs. Cairns," he said quickly, 
stepping around from behind the desk. His legs were very short and thick and 
he was long in the torso, like a satyr. "The reason I was surprised, ma'am, 
is because I've been trying to call you at your home since eight o'clock 
this morning." 

"Call me? What for? Has something happened to one of the boys?!" she asked. 
"Uh, no, no, ma'am," he said. "There hasn't been an accident or anything 
like that. I was calling for the headmaster. He wants to talk to you or your 
husband." 

Darlene got a sudden, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "What 
about?" she said. 

Mr. Lee smirked, then caught himself. "I'm afraid I don't know, ma'am," he 
said stiffly. "You'll have to find out from the headmaster. One second, 
please, and I'll announce you." She glared at the bristly back of his head 
as he turned to open the headmaster's door. There was no doubt in her mind 
that he knew what his boss wanted, what the trouble was, all right? he was 
just being a jerk. He stuck his head into the adjoining office and said 
something in a low tone, then nodded and pushed the door wide open, 
gesturing for her to come ahead and enter. 

"Thank you," she said coldly as she breezed past him. 

"My pleasure, ma'am," he retorted, no longer trying to hide the laugh in his 
voice. The headmaster's office was quite plush when compared to the austere 
reception room. The walls were walnut-paneled and the carpet was a deep, 
soft pile in a muted olive green. The headmaster was not sitting at his 
broad walnut desk when Darlene stepped into the room, but was standing with 
his back to the door, gazing fixedly out the French doors at the academy 
grounds, his hands clasped behind his back. 

"That will be all, Darwin," he said without turning. Darlene heard the door 
close quietly behind her. She did not glance back; she stared at the tall, 
powerfully built man standing before her. The headmaster. Colonel Drake, was 
a very impressive figure of a man. He had a truly noble profile, a strongly 
arched nose, massive brows, a jutting chin, and his hair was pure silver, 
worn slicked straight back without a part. He was at least sixty years old, 
but didn't look a day over forty-five. He had the kind of broad-shouldered, 
lean-hipped physique that did wonders for a uniform, any uniform. He was 
wearing a short, Eisenhower style jacket, khaki shirt, dark green riding 
trousers and shiny black jack boots that came almost up to his knees. His 
uniform was elegantly tailored and made of the finest material. If Colonel 
Drake had any flaw at all, it was that he was just too perfect, and the 
cultivation of that perfection seemed to border on an obsession. Darlene 
could not be sure from looking at him whether he was actually surveying the 
grounds or whether he was studying his own reflection in the glass. 

"Sit down, Mrs. Cairns," he said, glancing at her over his epaulettes and 
giving her a confident smile. 

Darlene sat down in the leather chair opposite his desk and crossed her long 
legs. "I'm really very glad that you picked today to pay us a visit," he 
said, his gray eyes radiating warmth and sincerity. "I wanted to speak to 
you." 

"Your orderly said as much," she said, a bit more sharply than she'd 
intended. "What seems to be the problem?" 

The colonel walked over to the desk and sat down in his high-backed, 
executive swivel chair. Darlene knew that whatever it was, it couldn't be 
good. The colonel was sitting ramrod straight and was all business. 

"I hate to beat around the bush about matters like these," he said, leaning 
forward, putting his large hands on his desk top, looking her squarely in 
the eye. "I don't think it helps anything to pull punches. The reason I'm 
telling you this in advance is because I don't want you to think I'm being 
thoughtlessly brusque with you." 

"I understand," she said, fidgeting with the strap of her purse. "I wanted 
to talk to you, Mrs. Cairns," he said, "because your sons. Chuck and Tommy, 
are walking a very thin line here at Valley View. They are both on the verge 
of being expelled." 

"Expelled?!!" she said. "My boys?!! For what?! What in the world did they 
do?!!" 

"Please, Mrs. Cairns, don't get so excited," he said. 

"What have they done?!" 

"I'm sorry to say this, but your boys just aren't making an effort to fit in 
here," he said. "Chuck, the oldest one, I believe, is failing two courses 
out of five and Tommy is failing four." 

Darlene was instantly on the defensive. "I'm afraid I don't understand," she 
said. "I thought my husband and I were paying you to give our boys special 
help. What you're saying to me is that you aren't living up to our 
agreement, that Chuck and Tommy aren't getting the attention they need in 
order to learn." 

"I assure you, Mrs. Cairns," he said, "that our teachers have made every 
effort to reach the boys. They are, literally, on call twenty-four hours as 
they live here on the grounds ... and it is a school policy that they make 
themselves available to our cadets whenever they are needed, either for 
instruction or counseling services. I am truly sorry to say this, but your 
sons do not want to learn and that is only half of their problem." 

"Go on," she said, the heat of motherly anger rising in her cheeks. "If they 
just refused to study, to take exams," he said, "I assure you their 
expulsion from the academy would not even be considered. It is the 
disruptive effect they have on the other cadets that really concerns me." 

"Disruptive?" 

"That's right. Both of them are not content to merely ignore assignments, to 
doze through lectures; they insist on turning the classrooms into circuses, 
wise-cracking back to the teachers, doing anything and everything they can 
think of to wreck the chances of their fellow students to learn." 

"I don't believe that!" The colonel winced. "The final straw was yesterday," 
he went on. "Chuck and Tommy were enrolled in the same history class, as you 
know. The two of them consistently destroyed everything the teacher, Mr. 
Rimbaud, tried to build, working together to taunt and torment him and their 
fellow cadets. Yesterday they began throwing spitballs at him every time he 
turned to the blackboard. Mr. Rimbaud, showing great restraint, ordered the 
boys from the classroom. When neither of them obeyed, he took hold of Tommy 
by the arm and pulled him to his feet to forcibly remove him. Chuck 
immediately sprang to his brother's aid and a shoving match between the 
three of them quickly turned into an out and out slugging brawl." 

"God!" Darlene groaned. The colonel nodded. "No one was seriously injured, 
thank goodness," he said, "but you see why I have no choice but to dismiss 
them. I cannot allow what they've done to go unpunished. That would be like 
telling the rest of the cadets that it's all right to take a poke at a 
teacher." 

As the realization sank in that the colonel was dead serious about expelling 
her sons, and that he had justifiable grounds for doing so, Darlene was 
utterly devastated. She didn't care a bit about Valley View Academy or the 
teacher who got punched. All she was thinking about was what Bill would say, 
what he would do. The dismissal of Chuck and Tommy would give him an excuse 
to send them off to a really tough military school, someplace that came 
closer to being an honor farm than an institution of higher learning. If the 
boys got expelled, she knew that she would lose them, probably forever. She 
could not, would not accept that. 

"Please, Colonel Drake, please, just a second," she said, pulling a 
handkerchief from her purse, dabbing at the tears that were suddenly 
brimming in her eyes. 

"Of course, of course," he said, pushing back into his deeply padded chair. 

When she got herself in control, Darlene said, "You know my husband, 
colonel, you know how much this will hurt him." The headmaster frowned. 
"Bill is a strong man and he's very proud," she went on. "I'm afraid he 
won't be able to handle the humiliation. He wanted so much for the boys to 
succeed here." 

Darlene could tell that she'd taken the right track with the colonel. If 
she'd started blubbering about the boys, acting like a typical panicked 
mother, she wouldn't have gotten anywhere, but talking about the effect of 
the expulsion on the family honor, on the pride of her soldier husband ... 
that was another thing altogether. 

"I'm really sorry, Mrs. Cairns," he said. "Please believe me." 

"Is it really too late?" she said, leaning forward, putting her hands on the 
edge of his desk. "Isn't there some other form of punishment you could give 
them? Maybe if I talked to them I could get through to them? Yes, I know I 
could, colonel. They'd listen to me, I know. Give me a chance, please. 
Please, I beg you. I'd do anything ... anything to keep my boys at Valley 
View." 

As she spoke the last sentence, she saw the colonel's eyes slip down from 
hers, down to take in the ripely swelling mounds of her breasts. When she'd 
leaned over, she hadn't done it in a conscious effort to show him more of 
the succulent cones, but that was, in fact, what had happened. The 
implication, whether intended or not, was plain to both of them. Darlene 
started to say something, to correct the impression, but then the colonel's 
ears took on a rosy blush and he was looking at her face again, his eyes 
glittering. Her head was swimming something horrible and it was too late to 
protest. She felt suddenly weak, exhausted, and her own cheeks burned 
feverishly from within. 

"I'd like to help," he said, propping his elbows up on the arms of his chair 
and lacing his fingers together across his broad chest, "but it's really out 
of my hands. I'm only responding to the boys' teachers. They're the ones who 
are insisting that I make an example of them." 

"Maybe if I talked to the teachers?" she said, quickly. "Oh, please let me 
at least try!" The colonel sighed. "Frankly, Mrs. Cairns," he said, "I think 
you'll only be wasting your time. The teachers have had quite enough of 
Chuck and Tommy. I don't think there's anything you could say to change 
their minds about the expulsion. But, since you insist, and for the sake of 
Lt. Colonel Cairns, I will let you try." 

"Thank you! Oh, thank you, sir!" she cried. There was nothing false about 
her gratitude, either. 

He smiled at her and said, "You'll be wanting to see your sons now." He 
pressed down the button on his intercom and told Mr. Lee to have Chuck and 
Tommy brought to his office. "I know I can get through to them, Colonel 
Drake," she said, putting her hanky back in her purse. 

The headmaster nodded. "If anyone can, you can," he said, rising from his 
seat. "I'm going to step out for a moment. I need to make some arrangements 
for you to stay in the guest cottage and you will want some privacy here, I 
should think." 

"Oh, please, I can stay at a motel," she protested. He shook his head. "I 
wouldn't hear of it," he told her. "We have a very nice cottage here. I'm 
sure you will like it. Mr. Lee has the key, so you may pick it up and get 
directions to it when you leave." He walked to the door, gave an elegant 
little bow, then, as he straightened up and just before he backed out of the 
room, he said, "Best of luck, Mrs. Cairns." 

Darlene slumped back in the chair as she was alone once again, as the full 
impact of what was going to happen to her boys hit her for a second time. 
She would not allow herself to break down again. She swallowed down her 
tears, her anguish. 

After about five minutes had passed there was a soft knock at the door. Then 
it opened. Mr. Lee grinned in at her. 

"Your sons are here," he said, stepping back so the boys could pass. 
Darlene's heart leaped up into her mouth when she saw Chuck and Tommy. She 
had been preparing herself for this confrontation ever since she'd seen the 
little robots marching out front, but even so, she was not ready for it. The 
boys were wearing the same uniform as the other cadets, the same olive drab 
jacket, shirt and slacks, the same peaked cap with the black plastic visor, 
and they had the same short crew-cut as the others, but it looked as if 
they'd been dressed by others, forced to put on the uniforms, as if they'd 
also been given haircuts against their will. The uniforms were badly rumpled 
and the boys had done nothing to change the effect. As for their haircuts, 
they alone were enough to make her want to cry. Chuck's lustrous, reddish 
blonde hair, which he wore shoulder length, was entirely gone, as was 
Tommy's straight, fine blonde hair, and it looked as if it'd been taken off 
with a lawn mower, cut clear down to the scalp in places. Both boys looked 
like they'd really been through the wringer; their faces were bruised and 
their eyes looked haunted, terrified. Even when the door closed behind them 
and they were alone with their mother, they could not relax. 

"God! What have they done to you?!" Darlene moaned, jumping up from her 
seat, throwing her arms around both of them, pulling them close to her. They 
didn't respond to the contact at all. It was like hugging a pair of 
department store mannequins. 

She pushed back and looked at them searchingly. Tommy was crying. Tears were 
streaming down his cheeks, but he wasn't making a sound. Chuck was staring 
off into space, his mouth set hard, the tendons jumping in his jaws. 

"Chuck, for God's sake, talk to me!" she wailed. "There's nothing to say, 
mother," he said. 

"Oh, yes there is! I've heard what the colonel has to say," she told him, 
"and now I want to hear your side of it. What happened?" 

"Whatever the colonel said is the truth," Chuck answered, his eyes full of 
pent-up rage. 

"No, I won't buy that, I can't," she said, "not after seeing you two. Why on 
earth did they do that to your hair? And your faces! Your poor faces!" 

"Our platoon leader thought we needed haircuts," Tommy piped up, his voice 
crackling horribly on the last syllable. 

"When we told him we didn't think so," Chuck went on, "he got furious. He 
ordered the rest of the cadets in our barracks to hold us down and shave our 
heads." 

"Which they did, gladly," Tommy added. 

"What kind of place is this?!" Darlene gasped. 

"The kind of place you wouldn't send your worst enemy, mother," Chuck said 
bitterly. "After the haircut thing," Tommy said, "everyone started picking 
on us. They all jumped on the bandwagon ... not just the other cadets, 
either. The teachers did stuff, too, made fun of us in class in front of the 
others, gave us extra work, and graded us harder than the others." 

"This is so hard to believe!" she said, shaking her head. 

"Believe it, mother," Chuck said. "In a place like this, miles from any big 
town, the people have to make their own fun. The fun they make here is sick 
with a capital '$.'" 

"They call it discipline," Tommy said, "but it's really just torture, and 
you can see them laughing while they're making you scrub toilets or polish 
the floors." 

"They made you do that kind of thing?!" Darlene asked. 

"And worse," Tommy said. "They made us do things I wouldn't even tell you." 
She walked back to the chair on rubbery legs and sat down hard. In a way, 
she wasn't surprised at what her sons were telling her. She'd heard a lot 
about the kind of hazing that went on in military schools under the guise of 
discipline, and that was one of the main reasons why she didn't want her 
sons locked up in one. It took a supreme effort of will for her to get her 
emotions under control, to come to grips with the situation. "What about Mr. 
Rimbaud?" she said. "What about the fight? What about the disruptions the 
colonel said you caused?" 

Tommy and Chuck exchanged smirks. 

"We took it as long as we could, mother," Chuck said. "And when we decided 
we'd had enough," Tommy said, "we started dishing it back to them." 

"We figured that the only way for us to get out of this hell hole was to be 
so totally outrageous that they'd throw us out," Chuck said. 

"Then what the colonel said was true?" 

"Yes, mother," Tommy said. "We did it on purpose." 

"And the fist fight?" 

"That creep Rimbaud was trying to break Tommy's arm," Chuck said. "He had it 
all twisted up behind his back and he kept saying he was going to rip it 
off." 

"That's right, that's right," Tommy said. "Mom, it hurt something awful. I 
was really scared." 

"What he really wanted," Chuck continued, "was for Tommy to start crying, 
screaming for him to stop, but I knew Tommy wouldn't give in to the jerk, 
that he'd rather get his arm broken, so I jumped in to help him out." 

"Did he ever!" Tommy exclaimed. "He flattened Rimbaud with one punch!" 

Chuck shrugged. "I got lucky," he said. 

"But if you knocked him out, how did you boys get so beat up?" she said. 

"We made the mistake of going back and sitting down in our seats like 
nothing had happened," Tommy said. "When Rimbaud came to, he got up and used 
the intercom phone that connects to the administration building," Chuck told 
her. "We didn't hear what he said, but when he turned around he was 
smiling." 

"About three minutes later," Tommy went on, "a half dozen guys, off-duty 
teachers and senior platoon leaders, came charging into the class. They were 
the ones who beat us up." 

"But good," Chuck added. Darlene looked at her two sons. There was no doubt 
in her mind that they were telling her the truth; a mother can always tell 
when one of her own is lying. That such horrible things had been done to 
them, that the colonel had lied to her to cover up, sickened her. It implied 
that beneath the sparkling white paint, the gleaming spit and polish, there 
was a terrible corruption. 

"Can we go home now, mother?" Tommy asked hopefully. 

"Please, mother?" Chuck said. She had to bite her lower lip to keep from 
breaking into tears in front of them. She and her sons were caught between a 
rock and a hard place; there was really nowhere for them to go, no escape. 

"Boys, I'm going to tell you something and I want you to listen very 
carefully," she said, looking down at her hands. 

"Of course," Chuck said. 

"You know I don't want you to stay here," she said. "I was against it from 
the beginning. It was entirely your father's idea." 

"We know, mother," Tommy said. "We aren't blaming you." 

"What you don't know, or what you've overlooked," she said, "is that your 
father isn't going to stand for your getting expelled from this place. I 
know it's been horrible for you here and that you think you've acted in the 
only way you could, but you've only played right into your father's hands." 

"What do you mean?" Chuck said. 

"I mean that your misbehavior here, whether warranted or not, is the excuse 
he needed to send you to an even stricter place ... for the whole school 
year." 

"Stricter?! For the whole year?!" Tommy moaned. "Shut up!" Chuck barked at 
his younger brother. Then he turned to his mother. "What are you saying? 
That if we don't want to get shipped off for good, we've got to hang in here 
for another six weeks?" 

"Mother, we can't! We just can't!" Tommy cried. "You can and you will," she 
told them as firmly as she could. "I don't like it, you don't like it, but 
we don't have any other choice. We've got to smooth this thing over somehow 
... " 

"Smooth it over?!" Chuck said. "Mother, I knocked a teacher unconscious in 
front of the whole class. There isn't any way to put a band-aid on that!" 

"If you make us stay, they'll beat on us more," Tommy said. Darlene could 
not meet their eyes. Again, she looked at her own trembling fingers. "I'm 
not going to make you do anything. Tommy," she said. "It's up to you. If you 
want to go home now and face your father and what he will certainly do, then 
I'll go along with you and back you all the way. If you want me to go to 
your teachers and ask them to give you another chance, I'll do that, too." 

"You'd beg them?!" Tommy said, in horror, tears rushing from his eyes. 

"If necessary," she told him. 

"God! Chuck!" Tommy moaned. "Make her stop, make her stop saying that!" 

Chuck put his arm around his brother's quaking shoulders. His face was hard, 
emotionless. "Easy, kid, easy," he said. "I think mother's right." 

"What?!" 

"Easy, man. I'm being straight with you. Think about it. Dad will send us 
someplace worse, you know it. We should've listened to mother before. She 
warned us before, remember?" 

Tommy nodded miserably, wiping his nose with his sleeve. 

"We don't want to stay here," Chuck said, "but we will if they'll let us." 
Darlene was stunned and pleased, deeply pleased by the way her oldest boy 
was reacting to the situation. He was showing a maturity, an inner strength 
that she'd only had glimpses of in the past. She knew that he was going to 
grow up to be a fine, decent man, if only he had the chance ... if only he 
was kept away from the stifling. character-breaking military school system. 
She had to ask something of him, something that she knew would put his 
strength to the test. 

"If they do re-instate you boys," she said, "you're going to have to keep a 
lid on your anger. You're going to have to take whatever they dish out to 
you. Do you understand?" 

"We can take it, mother," Chuck said, giving his brother a hard squeeze. 

"Yeah, we can take it," Tommy said. "Well, I guess I'd better go and pay a 
visit to Mr. Rimbaud," Darlene said. "Where would I find him?" 

"He'd be in Classroom 23, over in the Social Sciences Building," Chuck said. 
"He has a class that's just ending now." 

"Be careful with that guy, mother," Tommy warned her. "He's a real 
sleazeball." 

"So I. gathered," she said, managing a little grin. "I don't know how many 
other teachers of yours I should talk to." 

"There's only two others who count," Chuck said, "Mr. Tucker, the Tactics 
teacher, and Mr. Maxwell, the Math teacher." 

"Very well," she said. "I doubt that I'll get around to all of them this 
afternoon. The colonel offered me the guest cottage for the night, so I can 
finish up first thing tomorrow morning. Hopefully, we'll have the matter 
cleared up by this time tomorrow. Will I be able to see you again before 
this evening?" 

Chuck shook his head. "Technically, Tommy and I are on report, which means 
we're confined to barracks. If you push it with the colonel, we could 
probably get let out tomorrow to say goodbye. 

Darlene wanted very much to cry. Everything seemed so paltry, so pathetic, 
mother and children stealing seconds together, catering to the whims of a 
bunch of sadistic animals. She knew that the only power the colonel and his 
teachers had was the power she and the boys gave them ... and she knew that 
there was no other way. 

"You boys go on now," she said, getting up from the chair, kissing each of 
them on the cheek. "Be good. I love you." 

"We love you, too, mother," Chuck said. 

"I know, I know," she said as they walked out the door. 

She took a moment to draw herself together, then stepped out into the 
reception room. Mr. Lee was sitting behind his desk, grinning from ear to 
ear. 

"The colonel said you had a key for me?" she said, coldly. 

"A key? A key," he said, pulling open the center desk drawer and taking out 
a single key on a leather thong. "The key to the cottage." 

"Thank you," she said, taking it from him. "Can you tell me how to get 
there?" 

"Sure. Follow the main walkway to the east and you'll see it on the left. 
It's kind of set apart from the other buildings. It's the only cottage on 
the grounds." 

"Thank you again," she said. "If you really want to thank me," the stocky 
young man said, leering openly at her breasts, "why don't you leave the 
front door unlocked tonight?" 

Darlene Cairns was a handsome woman and she'd had her share of propositions 
from men, but never had a pass seemed so basely obscene. For a second, it 
was almost as if she could read the man's mind, as if she could see what he 
was envisioning for the two of them, the tangled, sweat-soaked sheets, the 
rank, sour scent of animal rutting, the lewd suck and slap of madly gyrating 
loins. His idea of a swell evening made her feel physically ill. 

"How about it?" he said, eagerly. "You won't be sorry, I promise you. I know 
how to treat a woman." 

"I don't think I want to thank you that much," shesaid, walking briskly out 
of the office and down the hall before Mr. Lee could respond. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Darlene was very nervous as she entered the Social Sciences Building. She 
wasn't sure how she was going to handle the situation, whether she would 
have to put on a motherly show of emotion, whether she was going to have to 
get down on her knees and actually beg Mr. Rimbaud to give her boys a 
reprieve. She told herself as she walked down the main hallway that whatever 
it took she would do it, for her sons' sake. 

She entered Room 23 without knocking as the door was wide open and stood 
there, patiently waiting for the tall, angular, black-haired man behind the 
desk to stop browbeating a lone, obviously terrified student. 

"If you'd read the material I assigned, Mr. Pruitt," the teacher said, his 
black eyes flashing sternly, "you wouldn't have any trouble answering the 
questions I ask in class." 

"But I do read it, sir," the boy protested, a faint whine to his voice. 

Mr. Rimbaud looked up and saw Darlene. A smile spread over his face. "You 
can go, cadet," he said, without taking his eyes off her. 

"Sir?" 

"Go! Get out!!" Rimbaud said, gesturing toward the door. 

The student sprinted gratefully for the exit, his face blushing with shame 
and embarrassment. Then the teacher walked over to Darlene, a cocky bounce 
to his step. "Hi there," he said, giving her a cool once-over. Darlene 
decided that her boys had been right. Mr. Rimbaud was a "sleazeball." Not 
that he wasn't handsome, in a kind of swarthy, foreign way, but his manner 
was too self-assured, too oily. 

"My name is Mrs. Cairns," she said. "I'd like to talk to you about my sons, 
Chuck and Tommy." 

"I know, I know," he told her. "I already had a little talk with the 
colonel. He said you'd probably be dropping by to see me." 

The way he was looking at her made her feel naked and on full display. He 
was doing it on purpose, openly, to make her uncomfortable ... and was 
succeeding. 

"I don't want my sons expelled from Valley View," she said. "I don't want a 
thing like that on their permanent records. I need your help to keep them 
here." 

The teacher rubbed his square jaw with long, blunt-tipped fingers. He shook 
his head. "I'm sorry," he said, "but it's really out of my hands now." 

"That's what the colonel said," she told him. "He said I had to talk to 
you." Rimbaud frowned. 

"If you changed your mind about the expulsion," Darlene went on, "I know 
that I could get the other teachers to go along with you." 

"Okay, okay," he said, waving a hand at her. "I'm going to lay it on the 
line to you. Your cute kid flattened me in front of thirty other cadets. He 
didn't hurt me physically ... he caught me off balance ... but that doesn't 
matter. What matters is my pride and the respect I can command from my 
students. Without respect I can't teach, Mrs. Cairns. Not here, not 
anywhere. Your son humiliated me and I can't let that pass. If I did, 
believe me, I'd have cadets coming up to me after every class, wanting to 
knock my block off because I gave them a hard time about their homework or a 
test. Am I making my point?" 

"I understand how you must feel," she said, "but do you really have to expel 
them? Isn't there something else, some other punishment you could give them 
that would make an example of them to the other boys?" Darlene hated herself 
for having said that, for asking the man to punish her sons for a "crime" 
that she felt was imaginary, or at least justified. She put her hands behind 
her back so he wouldn't be able to see how badly her fingers were trembling. 

"Mrs. Cairns," he said, his eyes suddenly blazing with anger, "I am a 
naturalized American citizen. In the country of my birth there is a long 
tradition of manly pride. Though I am an American, I still am tied to my 
heritage; it is in my blood. My tradition tells me that an affront, a 
humiliation, must be answered swiftly and in kind. Your boys shamed me in 
front of the whole academy and they must pay the full price. Anything less 
would not satisfy my honor." 

Darlene could see that her choices of action were dwindling fast. Obviously, 
Rimbaud was not the kind of man she could reason with. He was far too 
conceited, too egotistical. The idea of begging, pleading with such a man to 
spare her children revolted her to the core, but she had no alternative. 

"Please, Mr. Rimbaud," she said, her lower lip quivering, her eyes brimming 
with hot tears, "think about what you may be doing to their futures." He 
snorted at that. "I am doing them a favor, ma'am," he said. "I am teaching 
them an important lesson in life ... that if you commit a crime, you must be 
willing to pay the consequences." 

He looked so damned smug that Darlen wanted to push him herself. The 
combination of her anger at the injustice being done, of her fear of what 
the ultimate result would be, was too much for her. She broke down. A low, 
whining sound erupted from her lips and tears rushed from her eyes. Unable 
to bear the thought of his looking at her, watching her cry with those hard, 
merciless black eyes of his, she turned her back to him and sobbed into her 
hands. 

"Please! Please!" she wailed miserably. "You just don't understand! My 
husband ... he'll ... oh, God! God! You can't kick them out! You just 
can't!!" The swarthy man smirked at her. "I understand," he said, leering at 
the round, jutting curves of her buttocks and the long, smooth line of her 
legs. "You are a good mother, Mrs. Cairns. You care about your boys and 
their future." Then he reached out and put his hand on her bare shoulder. 

Darlene shuddered at his touch. His fingers were blazing hot and she wanted 
to push them away, but she was afraid to rebuff him, afraid that it would 
put an end to the matter. 

"The question is," he said, stroking her shoulder gently, reassuringly, "how 
much do you care?" She stiffened at that, then turned to face him. "What?!" 
she said. She was instantly sorry that she hadn't kept her back to him. The 
look in his eyes, savage, animal, made her knees go weak and her heart pound 
agonizingly. She felt like a little bird paralyzed before a hungry snake. 

"You heard me," he said. "How much do you care?" 

"More than anything!" she cried. He grinned. "Do you care enough to make a 
sacrifice for them?" he asked. Darlene knew instinctively what was coming, 
where the conversation was leading, and she wanted to run from the room, but 
could not. She was riveted to the floor by her love for her children and by 
her terror of the man standing in front of her. No matter what, she told 
herself, she had to save her boys. "I'd do anything," she said, choking on 
her own tears. "Anything." 

Mr. Rimbaud grinned wider, nodding as if he had been expecting that answer 
from her, then abruptly turned away from her and walked over to the door, 
closing it, then locking it. He moved quickly to the curtains that were 
drawn back from the windows that ran the length of the other side of the 
room. As he pulled the drapes closed, shutting off the sunlight, sealing 
them off from the rest of the world, Darlene felt a strange chill ripple up 
her spine. It was fear, all right, but there was something else, too, 
something that she couldn't quite identify, something that did not belong. 

The teacher stepped over to the room's light switch and flicked it on. "I 
like to see what I'm getting," he said. 

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Darlene said. "Oh, I think you do," he told 
her. "Your sons have taken something from me ... my pride ... and I must get 
something in return ... satisfaction. If you don't want me to take it from 
them, then you must allow me to take it from you. A different kind of 
satisfaction, of course." 

As he moved toward her, Darlene instinctively recoiled, backing up against 
the blackboard. "You are a very attractive woman, Mrs. Cairns," he said, 
reaching out and grabbing hold of the back of her neck with his powerful 
fingers. "This is going to give me great pleasure, believe me." 

Darlene pushed hard against his chest with both hands, trying to avoid his 
embrace, but he squeezed on the back of her neck and the pain was so 
blinding that she moaned aloud and her arms went limp. She whimpered as he 
roughly pulled her against him, mashing her lush, ripe breasts against his 
flat stomach as he tipped her face up and dropped his open, searching mouth 
down on hers. Then he was kissing her passionately, practically smothering 
her with his hot lips, twisting and turning his face greedily. Her. head 
reeling, all she could think of to do was to play dead, to deny him the 
added thrill of feeling her struggling against him. 

That she wasn't responding didn't seem to bother the teacher at all. He 
sucked lasciviously at her mouth and swirled his thick, pebbly tongue over 
her lips, painting them with his viscous saliva. 

Darlene wanted desperately to faint, but could not. His huge tongue was 
jamming between her tightly clamped lips, mashing against her teeth, and the 
taste of his slobber was heavy in her mouth and pungently sweet in her 
nostrils. Her whole body jerked and twitched at the intimate, repulsive 
assault, her head so full of seething, pounding blood that she thought it 
would burst from the pressure. Unable to bear the shameful, obscene kiss any 
longer, she reacted violently, bringing her right knee up, aiming it for the 
man's crotch. 

Rimbaud easily turned aside, causing the blow to slide harmlessly off the 
outside of his thigh. He was not amused by her pathetic attempt to fend him 
off. "UHHH!!" she moaned as his steel-hard fingers dug into the hinge points 
of her jaws. The pain was excruciating, but much, much worse was the fact 
that her clenched teeth were coming apart and her mouth was opening against 
her will! 

Before she could gasp, he was kissing her again, only this time there was 
nothing to stop that long, thick tongue of his. It surged between her lips, 
between her teeth, and pushed insolently into her open mouth. Then his lips 
were pressed hard against hers and his tongue was sweeping salaciously over 
the insides of her cheeks, over her tongue, poking deep down into her 
throat. To make the feeling of violation, of degradation, even worse, her 
attacker groaned with pleasure at the feel of her warm, wet mouth, groaned 
his animal lust right down her throat! 

She tried to kick him again, but her second try was even more feeble than 
the first. It felt like he was sucking the air right out of her lungs, 
draining the strength from her body, and that squirming tongue of his was 
sliding lewdly in and out between her parted lips, mimicking the thrusting 
motion of a penis into a wetly parted vagina. 

She shuddered as she felt his right hand start to move over her body. Pinned 
to the blackboard by his weight, she was helpless to stop him. His fingers 
caressed her side, moving up and over the jutting, resilient mounds of her 
breasts. He went straight for her nipples, pinching, plucking at the peaks 
of her tits right through her dress. She whined softly up into his savagely 
squirming, seething mouth as she felt her nipples stand up in defensive 
hardness against the rough treatment he was giving them. 

The feel of her tautening nipples under his fingers only aroused Rimbaud 
further. Groaning, gasping into her mouth, his tongue darting in and out 
frantically, he took hold of the top of the bodice of her dress and jerked 
it down, causing the lush, snow white globes to spill out. 

Darlene tried wildly to escape, punching, kicking as his hand slid over her 
naked breast, as her tender nipple rubbed against his smooth, warm palm, but 
he would have none of it. He leaned against her harder, forcing the small of 
her back to crush against the edge of the blackboard's chalk tray. She 
stopped fighting at once, wanting desperately for the pain to cease. 

Only part of it did. Rimbaud pulled back from the kiss, taking his weight 
from her, and leered down at her bare breasts as he cruelly kneaded them, as 
he twisted the long, friction-reddened nipples between his thumb and 
forefinger. 

"Nice tits," he breathed into her face, his mouth shining,-rimmed by his own 
saliva. She made no response, except to wince at the way he was mauling her. 
Never in her life had she ever been so callously handled and the shock of it 
seemed to numb her mind. He was digging his fingers deep into the soft 
mounds, distorting them into obscene, bulging shapes and pulling her erect 
nipples far from her body, making the whole smooth cones of her tits stretch 
out alarmingly. 

Then he was kissing her again. When his mouth came down hard on hers, she 
made no attempt to try and close it, to keep out his tongue. What was the 
point? She knew that he could overpower her, that he could make her accept 
it. His lips pressed tightly against hers, forming a hot, wet seal, and his 
tongue starting lashing about madly, probing so far over the back of her 
tongue that she gagged. His fingers rolled her nipples back and forth, 
making them ache so badly that she started crying again, crying right into 
his hungry tongue kiss. She prayed that she would faint, that she would 
black out and not have to endure any more of this carnal torture, but her 
prayers were not answered. 

Something pushed against the inside of her thigh, something huge and hot and 
hard. It pushed again, harder, and a third time before she realized what it 
was. His penis! His monstrous, throbbing penis! 

"MMMMMM," Rimbaud groaned, grinding his mouth against hers, grinding his 
loins against hers, rubbing the blood-engorged length of his erect cock into 
her soft pubic vee. The feel of that stubbornly hard rod prodding into her 
totally unnerved Darlene. If she had been kidding herself before this, 
telling herself that she could make him stop, that he wouldn't be animal 
enough to make her go all the way with him, there was no kidding now. The 
insistent pulsing of that bulging male muscle told her what he intended to 
do to her, the price she was going to have to pay to save her sons. 

Though part of her was sickened by the thought of that huge, blood-heated 
cock plowing in and out of her loins, of the brutal violation of her most 
secret, most private places, she knew that she had to eventually give in, 
that she had to let him do whatever he wanted to her. The realization of her 
utter helplessness in the situation, of her impending martyrdom for her 
children's sake, had a strange effect on her, a shocking effect. It 
liberated her from the feelings of guilt she had about letting herself be 
used sexually by a stranger. Along with that realization, that release from 
blame, came a flood of sensation that she had been repressing, a flood that 
nearly drowned her. There was a definite tingling at her breasts, a 
pleasurable tingling that rippled down over her tummy, all the way to her 
crotch, as Rimbaud pinched and twisted at her hot, red nipples. And there 
was a feeling of sweeping, all-consuming warmth, of hotly seeping moisture 
between her legs. She recognized the symptoms of her own, sudden, unwanted 
arousal, and could do nothing to stop them. Once she'd relinquished control 
of her feelings there was no way to shut the floodgates. 

As the dark-haired man continued to deeply tongue kiss her, to rub her bare 
breasts until they burned from the sheer friction, to lewdly hunch his 
lust-swollen penis against her unguarded mound and belly, she could feel her 
body beginning to respond, betraying her, her hips starting to move a little 
bit, to push her tender, wet pussy mound forward, to rub it against the 
steely hard erection. 

The teacher felt her movement and groaned with excitement, sliding his hands 
down from her breasts, down over her sides, her hips, cupping the jutting, 
firm contours of her asscheeks, pulling her loins rhythmically against his. 

Darlene's legs turned to jelly as he manipulated her buttocks, slapping her 
pussy firmly against his cock, making the pleasure blossom again and again 
in her loins. He was masturbating! Masturbating both of them! And each time 
he brought their loins into sudden, jarring contact, her hips jerked 
reflexively, shamefully. Twisting her mouth away from his, she began to cry 
again, her head rolling back and forth as she sobbed, as she mentally cursed 
her husband. Bill, for neglecting her so, for making her so vulnerable to 
any kind of sexual contact ... even rape! 

"Ohhh, yes, yes, you like it!" Rimbaud panted into her tear-streaming face, 
snapping his hips viciously, making the supple cones of her breasts jiggle 
and quake like Jello on a plate. "You like it fine, don't you?" 

"UHHH, UHHH," Darlene moaned, hating him for what he was doing to her, for 
what he was turning her into. 

"You like to move this firm, warm ass, to shake it," he hissed. "You'd like 
for me to push up your dress and fuck you right now, to fuck you standing 
up, wouldn't you?" 

Darlene's eyes opened wide. "No, please, please, I couldn't," she babbled. 
"My husband, my sons, please, no ... " 

"Don't give me that!" he snarled, squeezing her buttocks hard. "You want 
every fucking inch of it crammed up your hairy cunt. You're so damned hot 
for it that you're juicing all over yourself." 

Darlene started to shake her head. 

"Mrs. Cairns," he said. "I can smell it." 

She shuddered and looked away. 

"Once I get it in you to the hairs," he said, thickly, "I know you're going 
to go ape for me. You're going to swing your long legs up around my back and 
hang on for dear life, and then I'm going to run around the room like a mad 
man, jumping up and down, sliding that wet tight pussy of yours up and down 
my big dick. I'm going to make you cum, Mrs. Cairns, make you scream for 
more." 

He punctuated his statement by giving his hips a hard snap. At the impact of 
his cock against her cunt, his eyelids fluttered shut and his breath 
whooshed out. 

"AAAGGGHHH!" he moaned miserably, his ass jerking out of control, his cock 
smashing into her again and again. Darlene knew that he was orgasming and 
she was glad that he was doing it in his pants. He deserved it, deserved to 
soil himself that way. She had to fight to keep from laughing at him, at his 
squirming, hunching antics. Then she felt something wet, something seeping 
through the front of his pants, through the front of her dress, sticky 
against her skin. 

"Damn!" Rimabud growled, shoving himself back from her, staggering back 
against the top of a low student desk. Darlene was panting hard, gaping at 
the immense bulge in his crotch. It looked like he had a baseball bat in 
there, and the whole side of his trousers from the pocket to halfway down 
the thigh was stained with a dark wetness. She couldn't help but grin at 
him, thinking back to what he'd said about the importance of his "manly 
pride." 

"What the hell are you smiling at?!" he yelled at her. 

She flinched. 

"You want to see it? Is that it?" he demanded. "Okay, I'll fucking show it 
to you!" With that, the teacher reached down and unbuttoned the waistband of 
his pants, then unzipped his fly. To Darlene's horror, he quickly stripped 
his trousers and jockey knit briefs down around his knees. As the wadded up 
clothing cleared the area of his crotch, his huge, throbbing penis lurched 
up from its confinement, snapping up to his chest before dropping back, 
sticking up from his hair-matted loins like a tree limb, a quivering, 
drooling tree limb. 

"Oh, my God!" she gasped, her hand jumping reflexively to her face as if to 
shield it from the lewd sight, but her eyes riveted to his jerking cock. The 
shaft of his luridly upraised penis was rubbed a bright red color the full 
length of its underside and every blue, sinuous vein was bulging obscenely, 
every tendon, jutting, drawn tight. The heavy, bulbous head was purplish, 
shiny, smeared with glistening, whitish fluid. And even as she watched it, 
the knob pulsed, the tendons flexed, and thick, creamy blobs of semen shot 
from the tiny slit in its tip, blobs that fountained up a half foot from the 
head, then fell back down, bathing the throbbing instrument in pearly, 
shimmering goo. Beneath the horribly thick base of his penis, under the 
thick ruff of shiny black pubic hair, his massive testicles were pulled 
uptight to his groin, nestled like a pair of goose eggs in a yellowish 
brown, wrinkly bag. 

"Damn!" he muttered, his eyelids half-closing again as another gush of semen 
poured from his penis. Instead of shooting up in the air, this spurt just 
oozed sluggishly from his slit and slipped down over the ruddy underside of 
his cock, down through the dense curling hairs, down over his leathery 
scrotum. 

Darlene was fascinated, despite herself. In all the years she'd been married 
to Bill, she'd never actually seen him ejaculate. It'd always been in the 
dark, under the covers and inside of her. Somehow, even though she'd never 
seen Bill's cock spurt, she knew instinctively that he could never have 
matched the black-haired man for sheer volume. 

There was something truly animalish about Rimbaud's loins, not just the 
impossible quantity of semen he'd ejaculated, but the size of his genitals, 
too. They looked as if they'd been created for some much larger creature, a 
bull or a horse, and grafted on to him. The thought of such a huge battering 
ram fucking into her made Darlene whimper aloud. 

"Like it, huh?" Rimbaud said, winching as his cock jerked, the head bobbing, 
as the last, gelatinous gob of his cum welled up from his slot and slid down 
the glistening underside of his cock. 

"No," Darlene said, but she couldn't seem to look away from it, from its 
hugeness, its ominous strength, and she couldn't help but think what it 
would do to her pussy, how it would tear it, stretch it, how it would ruin 
her for her husband's pleasure. 

"Come over here," he said, gingerly touching the gleaming bulb with a 
fingertip. When he pulled his finger back, a thick white web of cum came 
with it, stretching between the pad and his cockhead, then breaking free. He 
rubbed the slimy fluid between his thumb and forefinger appreciatively. 
"Come here," he repeated, his tone sterner, more forceful. 

"No, please," she said. She didn't want to be any closer to his big, 
sperm-drenched cock. Even from a distance of four feet, she could smell the 
scent of the spilled semen, rank, cloying, musky. 

"If you want me to help you, Mrs. Cairns," he said, "then you'd better get 
over here ... quick!" To emphasize his point, he jabbed his wet finger at 
the floor between his feet. "I ... oh!" she exclaimed, moving toward him, 
jumping at the sound of his command, at the threat in it. She stopped when 
she was about two feet from him. The scent of his cum was much stronger at 
this range and the pungent aroma made her face burn with embarrassment. 

"Much better," he said, reaching out to take hold of her arm, pulling her 
even closer, forcing her to step between his splayed legs. "I've got a big 
surprise for you. Can you guess what it is?" 

Darlene looked down at the huge, rubbery head of his penis and shuddered. 
She could guess. 

"Yes, you really do want to get that crammed up your cunt, don't you?" he 
said, laughing. "But it wouldn't be right if I gave you what you wanted, now 
would it?" 

Darlene jerked her eyes up to his. "What do you mean?" she said. The second 
she spoke, she wished to God she could've taken the words back. 

"See, you are disappointed," he said, chuckling merrily. He reached down and 
wrapped his fingers around the neck of his still-hard penis and began lazily 
masturbating himself. If what he was saying hadn't been true, Darlene's face 
wouldn't have turned crimson, her heart wouldn't have started pounding, her 
hot, wet pussy wouldn't have suddenly tightened, squeezing anxiously on 
nothing at all. 

"For me to get satisfaction," he said, "you're going to have to humiliate 
yourself and do it willingly. There's nothing more exciting for a man, Mrs. 
Cairns, than to see a beautiful woman lick the cum from his cock." 

"OH, NO, PLEASE," she moaned, shaking her head. "LICK ME CLEAN!" he snarled, 
twisting her wrist, forcing her to sink to her knees in front of him. He 
held his knees as wide apart as the rumpled folds of his trousers and 
underwear would allow. "EAT MY CUM, MRS. CAIRNS." 

She shuddered as she looked up at the lewdly raised length of his erection, 
at the glistening drips of semen, at the slowly relaxing orbs of his 
testicles. She did not want to put her mouth to that. He was so hairy, so 
awfully hairy, and his cock and balls looked used, worn, unspeakably 
obscene. But even more than the sight of his cock up close, the smell of it 
was what really revolted her. Underpinning the semen aroma was the smell of 
sweat and buttocks. 

"GO ON! DO IT!!" he said impatiently. 

"I ... I...." she stammered helplessly, horrified, mesmerized by the swaying 
staff, the pendulous balls. 

"Now!" he snarled, grabbing hold of the back of her head and jerking her 
nose, her lips hard against his sticky loins. Darlene choked as she came 
suddenly face to face with the slimy underside of his penis. Her mouth was 
pressed hard against the smooth, wet skin, the scratchy hairs, and the 
hairy, pebbly bag of his scrotum rubbed lasciviously against her chin. Under 
her tightly pursed lips, she could feel the massive length of muscle 
throbbing, pulsing with savage, animal heat, and against her chin the heavy 
testicles began to rotate, to draw back up into ejaculating position. 

"LICK IT, USE YOUR TONGUE," he said, holding her head still and screwing his 
hips up and down, rubbing his blood-engorged penis over her soft, warm lips. 
Even though she had her mouth closed tight, even though she was trying not 
to breathe, the sharp, acrid, salty taste of his cum exploded in her mouth 
and surged up into her nostrils. It was a lot worse than she'd imagined. A 
whole lot worse. 

"TONGUE! TONGUE!" Whimpering, the redhead opened her mouth. She had to do 
it, she told herself. She had to. She pushed the tip of her tongue over the 
grossly thick root of his cock, lapping at the lukewarm semen daintily, 
gagging as the full effect of its taste and consistency burst over her 
mouth. Above her she could feel his whole body tense with excitement at the 
feel of her tongue upon his erection. The lust-swollen tool itself gave a 
mighty heave and jerk over her head, quivering with delight. 

"MORE!" he commanded, swiveling his hips greedily, grinding his balls over 
her mouth, smearing his sticky cum over the whole lower half of her face. 
Darlene kept on licking him because she was afraid to stop. She lashed her 
tongue not only over the smooth surface of his cock, but his wrinkly, 
leathery scrotum as well. The flavor of his cum raged in her mouth, burning 
her tongue, mixing with and thickening her saliva. It wasn't the first time 
she'd tasted semen ... Bill had asked her to do it for him once or twice ... 
but it was the first time she'd ever sampled anything quite this potent. And 
when he raised himself up a little so that her mouth was against his 
testicles, she bathed them, burnishing them until they were bright red, 
until they no longer tasted of male funk. The male funk was in her mouth and 
throat, making her head spin. 

When she paused to gasp for breath, he caught her flushed face between his 
palms and pulled her mouth up higher, up to the middle of his thick penis. 

"LICK ME OFF," he said. "LICK ME LIKE IT'S A BIG OLD JUICY POPSICLE!" 
Darlene whimpered, looking up at the towering, blood-heated rod over her 
head. Against her lips his penis was hard as a rock and the skin still 
gleamed with a thin film of white cum. 

The teacher growled impatiently when she didn't obey him and lifted her 
face, dragging her soft mouth up the sticky underside of his cock, all the 
way up to the bloated tip, then shoving it back down, masturbating against 
her defenseless lips. 

Darlene was stunned at the way he was abusing her. Whether Bill had been an 
attentive husband or not, he had always treated her like a lady. This 
Rimbaud, this animal was treating her like she was some cheap slut, some 
tramp who liked it rough. As the glistening rod sawed over her upturned 
face, rasping against her mouth, her tongue, nose and forehead, she was awed 
by the sheer hugeness of it and couldn't help but imagine what all that 
steely hard meat would do to her wet little pussy, what it would feel like 
as it ground over the swollen shaft of her clitoris. She got a sudden surge 
of excitement at the thought. 

"THAT'S IT, OPEN YOUR MOUTH WIDER. YES! USE THAT TONGUE!" he encouraged her, 
twisting and turning her face in his hands, guiding her lips and tongue over 
his aching flesh, his buttocks squirming with a seeming will of their own. 

Moaning, the redhead lapped at his erection, swirling her tongue back and 
forth, back and forth as he made her bob her head, made her rub her parted 
lips over his cock. After three trips up and down the long shaft, the hot 
slobber drenched it from root to tip, lubricating it, making it easy for it 
to glide through the warm, wet trough of her mouth. 

"LICK! LICK!" he groaned ecstatically, moving her face faster, his hips 
snapping. She could sense his rapidly growing passion, not only in the way 
he was gripping her head, in the way his hips were grinding, in the way his 
penis was throbbing hotly against her mouth ... she could taste it, as well. 
She could taste it every time he raised her mouth and tongue to the velvety 
smooth head of his cock, taste it as fresh semen, hot and sticky, oozed from 
his slit onto her lips. His arousal did something to her, unleashed some 
demon within her. She moved her tongue faster, whipping it across the 
sensitive folds of skin directly under his slit, stabbing its tip into the 
slit itself. Everything under her face was suddenly so hot, so slippery, so 
incredibly sexy that she couldn't bear it. She was panting hard, moaning 
against the wet male flesh. She knew damn well what was happening to her, 
that she was getting turned on, and the idea revolted her. She didn't want 
to be excited by this stranger's cock, by submitting meekly to his savage 
hunger, but it was happening whether she wanted it to or not. And suddenly, 
it wasn't for the sake of her sons that she was doing it. Her sons didn't 
enter into it at all. It was the demon within her urging her to do it 
faster, to do it all, and though she struggled against the obscene demands 
roaring in her mind, she could feel herself losing ground, her shame at what 
she was doing giving way to real passion. Her head was moving faster, moving 
even more rapidly than his hands, and her tongue was a wet, lashing snake 
curling about his lurid erection. 

Without thinking, without caring, she reached up with both hands and gripped 
his thick shaft. raising her open mouth up, then stuffing the huge, pulsing 
knob between her lips, jamming it deep into her mouth. 

"SUCK, YOU WHORE!" Rimbaud choked, his eyelids narrowed to slits from the 
pleasure she was giving him. Her wet lips nursed at the neck of his cock. 
The head was buried in her mouth, bulging lewdly against her smooth cheeks. 
"SUCK MY COCK!" The bulbous knob between her lips was so huge that it felt 
like her jaws were cracking. The flaring, spongy rim was mashed right behind 
her teeth, right up against the roof of her mouth, and the oozing tip was 
pressed down hard upon her tongue. As the wet cockhead throbbed, pushing out 
in all directions at once, she moaned deliriously. 

"SUCK IT!" She obeyed. She obeyed because, deep down, she wanted to do it, 
because, deep down, she'd wanted to do it from the second she set eyes on 
the upraised cock. If she hadn't wanted to do it, if she'd only been 
submitting meekly to his command, she would not have gone at the task with 
such gusto. Whining softly through her nose, she sucked in, drawing her 
cheeks tightly around the massive bulb, constricting the soft, warm ring of 
her lips about the thick penis neck. 

"YES! YES!!" the man gasped, his back arching, his eyes snapping shut as the 
waves of pleasure coursed down the throbbing length of his hard cock. 
Darlene didn't understand what was happening to her. She was far too caught 
up in the steam heat of the moment to rationally consider her actions. All 
she could think about was the huge velvety bulb in her mouth, was the taste 
of his cum as it drooled onto her tongue. And she started to bob her head, 
without any coaxing from him, pushing the gleaming head in and out of her 
pursed lips, sucking as hard as she could. 

Rimbaud shuddered violently and clapped his hands to the sides of her head, 
stopping the bobbing motion. "JUST SUCK," he said hoarsely. Darlene 
whimpered anxiously. She didn't want to just suck. She wanted to feel all 
that lust hardened male flesh sliding in and out of her lips, rubbing over 
the inside of her mouth. She realized at that instant that she wanted him to 
cum. She wanted him to cum in her mouth, to flood her throat with his thick 
semen, to drown her in its slippery, sloshing torrent. 

Rimbaud had exactly the same thing in mind. Grunting, he screwed his hips 
forward, shoving fully half of his blood-thickened shaft between her 
pain-parted lips, forcing the blunt head to ease over the back of her 
tongue, to slip into the narrow crevice of her throat. 

Her eyes bulged from their sockets as she was suddenly skewered by all that 
bulging cock. The lower part of his shaft was much thicker than the neck and 
it wedged her lips and jaws even wider apart. The heavy rod slid deeper and 
deeper until the knob end was blocking her throat, until it was pushing down 
into it. The hurt was unimaginable! It felt like her throat was going to 
split a seam, like her jaws were going to crack, like her whole head was 
going to split open from the pressure. 

"SUCK!" he snarled as he drew his penis back. Sobbing, she did just that, 
nursing frantically on the slippery shaft, then the big bulb as it popped 
back into her mouth. 

"UHHH," he sighed rapturously as he lunged again, fucking his wet cock 
through her tightened lips, stabbing it even deeper into her throat. Darlene 
moaned at the pain, her fingers gently holding the hair-fringed base of his 
cock. What was happening to her was almost inconceivable. It was one 
violation heaped upon another. There seemed to be no end to them, no end to 
the humiliation and shame. Under the tip of her nose she could see the 
saliva-moistened shaft of his lurid penis as it pushed deep between her 
lips. She could see how much of it remained outside of her mouth even when 
he thrust and she knew that he would not be satisfied until she took it all 
down, until her lips were pressed tight to his hair-matted loins, her chin 
nuzzling his sperm-bloated testicles. 

The feel of her hot, wet mouth and throat about his erection, the sight of 
its friction reddened length sliding into the chalky whiteness of her face, 
through the widely stretched circle of her lips, drove Rimbaud wild. He 
hunched harder, spearing his cock into her, bashing its rubbery head into 
the side of her throat. 

Darlene bleated with pain, tears streaming down her face, as he continued to 
batter her again and again. Desperately, she tried to shift the angle of her 
head and neck to ease the horrible discomfort and, to her surprise, she 
succeeded. By turning her head at just the right instant, just as the bulb 
was about to slam into the wall of her throat, she avoided the hurtful 
impact ... and allowed the massive length of meat to slide even deeper into 
her! 

As he felt the squeaky tightness of her throat enveloping more of his cock, 
as he watched her frantic head-twisting, Rimbaud's self-control evaporated. 
Growling, grunting, he started snapping his ass in earnest, driving the 
lower half of his penis up into her gaping mouth and unprotected throat. 

Darlene let out a tiny little shriek each time the incredibly wide root 
jammed between her teeth, each time her obscenely ovaled lips were scraped 
by his sweat-scented pubic hairs, each time the bloated bulb rammed deep 
into her gullet, but she did not stop sucking. She held her cheeks concave, 
maintaining the maximum friction against the sides of the lewdly thrusting 
rod, letting it spear in and out of her lovely face. 

The teacher hunched until he'd hunched himself out. He let out an exhausted 
groan and slumped back against the edge of the desk, his eyes riveted to her 
face, to the shining ring of saliva about her sucking mouth. 

The second Rimbaud stopped his lunging, Darlene took up the slack, bobbing 
her head frenetically, making her lips glide down over the hugely throbbing 
cock from tip to root and back again, over and over and over. It no longer 
hurt nearly so badly, and the fact that her attacker had humped himself to 
exhaustion, that she'd taken the best he had to give and was going for more, 
gave her a strange sense of elation. She rhythmically blew him, building up 
the friction heat in the walls of her throat, in the inside of her mouth, 
until she thought her face would start to melt. It no longer mattered who he 
was or what the initial circumstances had been. Darlene wanted to feel him 
cum, craved the gush of sperm, the sudden, violent jerking of his manly 
staff between her parted lips. Gripping his hips with both hands, she 
double-timed her head bobbing, bashing her mouth hard against his hairy 
loins, her chin hard against the obscenely jutting bag of his scrotum. 

"YES! GO FOR IT!!" he cried, his eyes wide with lust, the tell tale tingling 
in the head of his cock beginning, the first flickering spasms of pleasure 
shooting down to his aching balls. Darlene felt his cock throb between her 
lips, and then she got a super strong taste of cum. Whining like a kicked 
puppy, she worked even faster, her head a blur, her lips flying, sucking 
over his turgid penis. 

"OOOHHH!" the teacher wailed, his eyelids snapping shut, his hips jerking 
viciously as joy exploded in his loins, as his cock commenced to quiver and 
flex, his balls pumping wildly, like a pair of hair-fringed dynamos. 

The rod between her lips expanded, swelling suddenly until it seemed to fill 
every crevice in her head, and Darlene was going wild, twisting, turning her 
face, making the shaft rub insightfully over the inside of her mouth and the 
walls of her throat. Then something boiling hot jetted deep in her gullet, 
choking her. Cum! Cum!!! 

Even as the huge cock jerked its joy into her throat, Rimbaud was reaching 
out for her, grabbing her by the ears. He yanked her face hard against his 
loins, pinning her ovaled lips to the base of his cock, holding her there. 
She whimpered frantically, her hands flapping at her sides. It felt like 
she'd been impaled on a tree trunk. She wanted to move, to pull back, to bob 
her head, but he would not allow it. 

"Man!" Rimbaud gasped, his cock bucking hard against the walls of her tight 
throat, the sizzling semen pouring down her gullet. Unable to move, unable 
to fulfill her own little fantasy, Darlene became nothing more than a warm, 
wet receptacle for the grunting man's lust. The monstrous penis pulsed again 
and again, pushing at the walls of her throat, at her tightly clamped lips, 
and each time it pulsed, hot, sticky sperm shot into her throat. There was 
nothing she could do but swallow it, though the volume of each pulse was 
horribly huge, though the slimy consistency turned her stomach. She gulped 
and gasped, sneaking breaths between the hard spurts, until she thought 
she'd go crazy. Her throat hurt, not only from the prolonged rasping of his 
cock, but from the repeated swallowing, and her belly felt full to the 
bursting point with his sloshing cum. Even so, the sperm just kept on 
coming, gushing into her like water from a hose. 

Finally, Rimbaud let out a satiated sigh and released his grip on her ears. 
Darlene immediately raised her head, pulling the huge rod from her throat, 
letting the still-throbbing head slip from between her lips. As she did 
that, she got a surprise. He wasn't done squirting yet. 

"OHHH," she gasped as hot cum sprayed her upturned face, spitting over her 
nose, lips and chin in gooey white threads. 

Rimbaud chuckled coarsely, grabbing hold of the shaft of his cock and 
pumping it through his fist, making the last few jets of sperm spatter her 
cheeks. Though only seconds before she'd thought she'd die if she swallowed 
another drop of his semen, she found herself not only opening her mouth, not 
only lashing her tongue about to catch the falling white rain, but after 
he'd stopped pumping, after he'd taken his hand away, she moved forward and 
began slurping at the spermy bulb, sucking the final trickles of cum from 
its slit. 

Then the teacher pushed her away and stepped aside, lifting up his 
underwear, stuffing his enormous cock back in place, then pulling up and 
fastening his trousers. Darlene knelt there on the floor, panting, her face 
on fire, her loins seething with tingling electric energy. She'd never felt 
so aroused, never even thought that such a thing was possible for her. She 
was aroused beyond shame, beyond embarrassment, beyond any of the moral 
concerns that had kept her faithful to her uncaring husband for so many 
years. 

"You liked that, didn't you?" he said, laughing at her. 

His laughter stung her, but not enough to dim the hunger in her belly, the 
craving need between her trembling thighs. 

"You could probably go for a nice long fuck right about now, couldn't you?" 
he asked. The demon in total control, like a puppet master pulling her 
strings, she made a mewling, submissive sound and sat down flat on the 
floor, spreading her long legs in an unmistakable lewd invitation. 

Again, he laughed. Then he shook his head. "I'd like to oblige you, Mrs. 
Cairns," he said, "but two in a row is about all I can manage without some 
rest." 

She shut her eyes tight and bit her lower lip. He wasn't going to fuck her! 
He was going to leave her hanging, frantic for sex! She moaned miserably. 

"Of course, there's always later," he said, offhandedly. 

Darlene looked up at him, her heart thudding. He looked at her naked breasts 
and smiled. "I would like to fuck you," he told her. "I'd like to suck those 
tits and screw you until you scream. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?" She could 
only whimper. That he was being cruel to her didn't really matter. In a way, 
she felt it was his right. After all, he'd been the one to unlock her soul, 
to show her her own deeply repressed sexuality. The love, the adoration she 
found herself suddenly feeling for the stranger was like the affection a 
puppy has for its master, clumsy, bumbling, half-fear, half-eagerness to 
please. 

"You're staying at the cottage tonight, aren't you?" he said. Darlene 
nodded. "Well, then," he said, "why don't you leave the front door unlocked? 
It's against the rules for any teacher to fraternize with the guests of the 
academy after hours, but if nobody knows, nobody will get hurt. I can sneak 
in about midnight, after the final bed check. What do you think?" 

"Yes," she said, her voice a hushed whisper. He gave her a stern look. "Now 
when I come in," he said, 'I want you to be ready for me, understand? I 
mean, I want you naked and hot for it so we don't have to waste any time, so 
we can get right down to screwing. Got that?" 

"Yes," she said. 

He grinned, puffing his chest out with pride. "I knew you'd be easy to 
make," he told her. "It was written all over your pretty face." 

Even that didn't stun her. Darlene was already thinking about later. 

Rimbaud gave her a hard look. "Aren't you going to ask me something?" he 
said. 

She blinked at him dully. "Ask you? Ask you what?" 

He smirked at her. "About your cute kids, Mrs. Cairns," he said. "You 
haven't forgotten about them already, have you?" 

She felt her face blush and at the same instant she got a catch in her 
throat. She opened her mouth but no words came out. 

"Save it," he told her. "Let's call what you did for me this afternoon a 
down payment on a debt. Tonight you're going to pay the balance in full. Is 
that clear?" 

She nodded. "And remember," he added, walking over to the door and unlocking 
it, "it's not only what you pay me, but how you pay me that counts. I want a 
real performance out of you ... and that's what I'm going to get, isn't it?" 

Darlene started to speak, to answer, to assure him, but he already knew what 
she was going to say. He turned his back on her and walked out the door. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

It took Darlene quite a few minutes to repair her makeup. She did this in 
the far corner of the classroom, with her back to the door so that no one 
passing by could see what she was doing. Once she was again presentable, she 
gathered up her purse and walked out of the room, down the hall, and out of 
the building. 

She was terribly confused by what had happened to her, by her responses, but 
she had a feeling that whatever had occurred, there was no turning back; she 
had taken the plunge. Whether she was in love with the black-haired man, or 
merely lusting, there was no denying that she hungered for him, that she 
craved him with all her heart and soul. The intensity of her need seemed to 
dwarf her initial purpose, her attempt to keep her boys in school. It took a 
supreme effort of will for her to turn her attention to that pressing 
matter. 

Clearly, she had to do something with the rest of the afternoon, and it was 
up to her to contact the other two teachers, to get them to agree to change 
their minds about the expulsion if Mr. Rimbaud changed his. There wasn't any 
doubt in her mind that she could perform up to his expectations. It felt 
like there was a wild woman inside of her, clamoring to be free. 

She stopped the first cadet she saw and asked the boy where she would find 
Mr. Tucker or Mr. Maxwell. The cadet answered that she could find both of 
them in the same place at this time of day ... in the teacher's lounge which 
adjoined the academy cafeteria. Darlene thanked him and followed his 
directions to the lounge entrance. 

The lounge was a small, oblong addition to the cafeteria building, an after 
thought stuck on to the single story, white-washed, wooden frame structure. 
She considered knocking on the door before entering, but when she looked 
through the window to the left of the door, she could see that there was 
nothing formal about the place. It was just a few formica-topped tables and 
mis-matched chairs with candy, cigarette and beverage machines along one 
wall. She pushed open the door and stepped inside. 

The two men sitting at a center table were the only people in the lounge. 
They both looked up at her, first with curiosity, then with big smiles. 
"Good afternoon," said the chubby man with the nearly bald head and ruddy 
complexion. He was prematurely bald and only slightly fat. What remained of 
his hair was sandy brown and his eyes were blue. He was wearing a 
short-sleeved shirt, a tie, and gray slacks. 

"You must be Mrs. Cairns," the other man said, rising from his chair. He was 
a little older than his companion and much thinner. His arms were wiry, 
muscular, and his cheeks were thin to the point of gauntness. His brown hair 
was covered with gray at the temples and there were little wrinkles at the 
corners of his eyes from squinting into the sun and wind. Like the chubby 
man, he was wearing shirt, tie and slacks. In his breast pocket was a little 
plastic holder for pencils and pens. The holder not only contained pens and 
pencils, but a small slide rule as well. 

"Hello," she said, stepping closer. "I'm looking for Mr. Tucker and Mr. 
Maxwell." 

"Look no further, ma'am," the chubby man said, also rising from his seat. 
"I'm Mr. Tucker and this is Mr. Maxwell." 

Maxwell extended his hand to her in greeting. She shook it, a little 
surprised at its smoothness, then pulled her hand quickly back. 

"Glad to meet you," Maxwell said. 

"Please have a seat,' Tucker told her, pulling one of the chairs out. "It 
isn't much but it's home." 

"Thank you," she said, sitting down. When the two men had resumed their 
seats, she said, "How did you know who I was?" 

The men exchanged smirky looks. 

"News travels fast in a place like Valley View, Mrs. Cairns," Maxwell said. 

"There's nothing to do but gossip," Tucker said wistfully. Darlene felt a 
sudden twinge in her belly. The idea that Rimbaud was out there now, 
spreading the tale of what she'd so willingly done for him, made her 
shudder. No, she told herself, he'd never do that, not if he expected to get 
any more from her. 

"So, I presume you know why I've come to see you?" she said, looking from 
one man to the other. 

Tucker nodded. "We know, ma'am," he said. 

"What can you do for my boys?' she asked. Tucker and Maxwell exchanged 
glances, then the latter spoke. "I'm sure that you're a very nice lady, Mrs. 
Cairns," he said, "and that you care the world for your children, but in all 
honesty you've got a couple of hell-raisers in Chuck and Tommy. In all my 
years as a teacher, I've never seen a pair so intent on ruining things for 
others, on disrupting class work." 

"I'll have to agree to that," Tucker said. "They've both got chips on their 
shoulders. They're always ready to pick a fight or start a row." 

Darlene was flabbergasted. "Are you sure you're talking about my Chuck, my 
Tommy?" she said in astonishment. 

"Yes, ma'am," Maxwell said. "A teacher isn't likely to mistake them for 
anybody else." She recalled what her boys had said about the hazing, the 
bullying that'd been done to them, and frowned. It was conceivable to her 
that a single teacher would lie about their behavior to cover up some 
infraction on his part, but for three teachers to lie, that implied some 
kind of conspiracy, something that involved the entire school. As she 
considered that, she began to doubt her boys' word for the first time, to 
think that they might have been making up at least some of what they'd told 
her. 

"It's just that they've never acted like that at home," she said. 

Tucker nodded sagely. "That's not unusual, Mrs. Cairns," he said. "The boys 
often act very different when they're suddenly removed from a familiar 
environment." 

"It usually means that they've been too sheltered, too protected at home," 
Maxwell added. 

Darlene stiffened at that. 

"Some boys never grow up, you know," Tucker said. "We don't want to give you 
the impression that we haven't tried with your sons, ma'am," Maxwell said. 
"Because we have. We've tried our best and haven't been able to change a 
thing." 

"If anything," Tucker said, "Chuck and Tommy are more hostile and 
antagonistic now then when they arrived ... and that's saying something." 
Darlene had had enough. Her temper flared and the words came rushing out. 
"Chuck and Tommy told me that they've been mistreated here," she said, 
"hazed, forced to do menial labor. Is that your 'best'?" Maxwell frowned and 
Tucker shook his head. "Of course they told you that," Tucker said. "What 
did you expect? For them to admit that they've been bad?" 

"I assure you, Mrs. Cairns," Maxwell said solemnly, "they lied to you about 
all that to save themselves." 

"All right," she snapped back, "assuming that they did do all the horrible 
things you allege, why do they have to be expelled for it? Why can't you 
give them another chance? After all, they are just children." 

Tucker winced. "That child of yours packs a mean right cross," he said. 

"I've already talked to Mr. Rimbaud," she said. "He is considering changing 
his recommendation." 

The two men blinked at her, then Tucker said, "Really?" 

"That's right," she said with growing confidence. "I told him that I was 
willing to do anything to keep them in school here, to keep their records 
clean, and he said he would think it over." 

"You must have done some heavy convincing, Mrs. Cairns," Tucker said. 
Maxwell gave him a quick elbow under the table. "What he means, ma'am, is 
that Rimbaud was the main reason for the expulsion. He was adamant about it 
right up until this morning." 

"Well, he is no longer adamant," she said. "What I want to learn from you 
gentlemen is if Mr. Rimbaud withdraws his request for the expulsion, will 
you go along with him or not?" 

"I don't know," Maxwell said, pulling on his chin. 

Tucker said nothing. He was looking at her strangely, his round eyes 
twinkling, his mouth turned up in a tiny grin. "Mr. Tucker?" she said. 

"I'm thinking," he answered, his expression unchanging, still faintly 
amused. It was then that Darlene felt it. Something under the table. 
Something touching her leg. At first she thought it was just an accidental 
nudge from one of the men, but the touching continued, growing bolder by the 
second. It was the tip of one of the men's shoes and it was pushing 
insistently between her knees! 

She scooted back in her chair, looking first at Tucker, then at Maxwell, the 
color rapidly rising in her face. Both men looked back at her curiously, as 
if they didn't understand. If she had to pin the blame on one of them, it 
would've had to be Tucker, if only for the smirk on his face ... yet, she 
couldn't be completely sure. At any rate, the lewd caress infuriated her. 
Did they think that she was some horny housewife who had come out to the 
country to take on all comers?!! She pushed abruptly up from her seat. 

"I want an answer, gentlemen," she said. "I want it now." 

"Please, Mrs. Cairns," Maxwell said. "It's not fair to put us on the spot. 
Not before you know for sure whether or not Rimbaud is going to withdraw his 
complaint." 

"You can't expect us to put our reputations on the line," Tucker said. "Not 
just on your say so." Darlene didn't like the way he was looking at her 
breasts. She turned to Maxwell and discovered that he was leering at the 
same place. "I want an answer," she repeated. "Will you consider changing 
your minds if Rimbaud changes his?" 

Tucker and Maxwell looked at each other, then back at her. 

"Yes, we'll consider it," Maxwell said, reluctantly. "Thank you," she said, 
turning on her heel and walking quickly out of the lounge. As she passed 
through the door, on a pure impulse, she stopped and looked back, peering 
through the window at the two men. As she watched, to her anger and dismay, 
they broke up laughing. Then Tucker reached into his front pocket, took out 
a coin, and tossed it in the air, slapping it down on the tabletop. 
Apparently they were tossing for something because Maxwell spoke tersely and 
then Tucker took his hand away from the coin. The older man frowned and 
Tucker let out a whoop of joy that she could hear right through the glass. 

Whatever it was about, she decided, she didn't want any part of it. It only 
confirmed that something strange was going on at the academy. She walked 
back to the main path that wound through the campus and eventually found the 
guest cottage. 

It looked like the rest of the academy buildings, only it was much smaller. 
She climbed the four stone stairs, opened the screen door, and fitted the 
key to the lock. Inside, the place was quite cozy and clean. There was a 
stone fireplace in the tiny living room, a well worn oval-shaped rug, an 
overstuffed sofa and armchair. The bedroom was also very small and the bed, 
a full queen size, seemed much too big for the space available. She could 
barely get around the foot of it to look into the clothes closet of a 
bathroom. 

Once her brief survey of the place was complete, she sat down on the edge of 
the bed and lay back, resting her head on the pillow. Things had been moving 
way too fast for her of late. She wanted to reach out, to grab hold of 
something, to slow down what seemed to be a long, tumbling fall into the 
unknown, but there was nothing, no one to hold onto. Her sons' future and 
her own had somehow become intricately entangled, and she knew that what 
went on in the big bed later that night would decide everything for all of 
them. 

She caught herself musing about Rimbaud, about his enormous, steely hard 
penis. She'd never really thought about Bill's cock in that way, as a thing 
separate from his person, as a kind of idol, a thing to adore for its own 
sake ... but then again, Bill had never forced her to pay homage to it. She 
fell into a light sleep and dreamed about making love to a man in a black 
mask, a man who was absolutely insatiable. 

She awoke with a start when someone knocked on the front door. For an 
instant, she thought it was Rimbaud, that she'd slept too long and had 
forgotten to leave the door unlocked, but she looked at her watch and saw 
that it was only seven p.m. 

"Who is it?" she said. "Cadet Simpkins with your dinner, ma'am," said an 
adolescent voice. Darlene got up, straightened her dress, an opened the 
door, taking the meal tray from the boy, thanking him, then shutting the 
door without locking it. She took the tray over to the sofa and set it down 
without removing the cover. She wasn't the least bit hungry. 

She walked back into the bedroom and stared a the rumpled coverlet where she 
had laid. She was looking without seeing, her mind still drowsy heavy with 
sleep. When she thought hard about it she could recall the taste of 
Rimbaud's semen, the feel of it spurting over her tongue. As she remembered 
that, she got a strong sense of falling again, of dropping past a dark and 
unfamiliar landscape. She was falling, all right, she told herself, falling 
from grace, maybe even falling it love. She wondered what if anything the 
black-haired man felt for her, wondered if it mattered ... or if all that 
counted for both of them was the sensation, the blinding ecstasy? 

She decided that her question was ridiculous. It was enough that she'd met a 
man who could unlock her passion, who could excite her as never before. She 
no longer had to rationalize that she was submitting to the man to save her 
sons. That was part of her motivation, of course, but just as real, just as 
obvious was her need to be savagely loved. In a way, her giving herself to 
the teacher was going to kill two birds with one stone ... it was going to 
keep her sons from being exiled and it was going to give her a taste of the 
joy she'd never felt. 

The more she thought about Bill, about what he'd think, how he'd react, the 
less she realized she cared. If he was stupid enough to leave her, a ripe, 
desirable woman, all alone for weeks on end, if he was stupid enough to 
think that other men wouldn't try to hit up on her, if he was stupid enough 
to think that she wouldn't need loving, then he deserved to be cuckolded. 
When she thought about the arrogance of the man, that he could think he 
could hold her with a few brief encounters a year, then Mr. Rimbaud's rather 
irritating insolence didn't seem nearly so bad. With a kind of cool, 
calculating premeditation, she decided that she would have her vengeance on 
Bill, she would have it on this bed. She would give more of herself to the 
stranger, to the man with the big cock, than Bill ever thought her capable 
of. She would be Rimbaud's slut, his whore, his anything, and she would take 
even more pleasure from the adultery knowing that she had withheld her 
uninhibited passion from her husband. 

Darlene slowly began to undress, slipping out of the sleeves of her dress, 
then unzipping the side and wriggling it down over the swell of her hips. 
She examined her breasts, carefully lifting the supple globes. Rimbaud had 
left finger marks on her skin, little round bruises. She moaned softly as 
she touched them, not because they pained her, but because they reminded her 
of hot savage he had been, how demanding. 

In the chill of the room, her nipples crinkled up, jutting out from the 
rounded peaks of her breasts like pencil stubs. She gently touched one and 
moaned again as a sudden spark of pleasure exploded in it, trickling down 
over her belly and down between her thighs. Just thinking about the man got 
her all steamed up! She scooped up both her breasts, clutching them tightly, 
digging her fingernails into the pointy tips. Her nipples felt red hot 
against her palms and the trickle of sensation from breasts to loins became 
a torrent. Shivering with excitement, she quickly padded into the living 
room and shut off the lights, then returned to the bedroom, where she did 
the same thing. In the darkness, she stripped out of her panties, the wet 
crotch clinging to the petulant lips of her vagina. 

When she was naked, she pulled back the covers and climbed into the big, 
soft bed. Under the blankets, between the cool sheets, every inch of her 
skin seemed alive with a burning, ravenous hunger. She sucked in a quick 
breath between her clenched teeth as her fingertips swept down over the 
silky smooth curve of her belly, down over the jutting mound of her pubis, 
over the dense thatch of shiny red hairs that shadowed it. When her 
fingertips touched the apex of her tight, pink-lipped slit, pushing aside 
the fringe of soft hairs to get at it, she let out a soft, mewling sound, a 
sound that reflected the mixture of emotions raging within her, the 
confusion in her mind, a sound that combined both lust and shame, need and 
disgust. 

What she was doing to herself was something that had never even occurred to 
her to do before: to fondle her own vagina. It was a taboo thing, a nasty 
thing, a thing a lady would never do to obtain pleasure. But it was what 
Rimbaud had told her to do. He'd said that he wanted her ready when he 
arrived and she was determined to be as ready as possible. 

If part of her hated what she was starting to do, some other part of her, 
the part that controlled her fingers, was not aware of it. The demon within 
had assumed control of her hand. Her fingertips, seemingly with a will of 
their own, began to search the tender, hair-rimmed slit, seeking the moist, 
deepening crevice of her pussy. 

"OOOH!" she cooed in the darkness, as waves of delight surged up over her 
belly, lapping at her breasts, making her nipples ache with longing as she 
touched herself harder, working her finger up and down the widening gash, 
making the swelling, angry petals smooch apart. The ache grew so intense 
that she couldn't stand it. She slipped her other hand up over her right 
breast, catching the stubby nipple between her thumb and forefinger and 
rolling it around, making sparks of joy dance down over her stomach. 

Gradually, the part of her that was disgusted grew weaker and weaker and the 
part that hungered became totally dominant. Her breath came in short, hoarse 
gasps as she rubbed the heel of her hand against the jutting, hairy mound of 
her pussy. And the whole length of her slit suddenly peeled open. Beads of 
slick, fragrant moisture drizzled down the inner surfaces of her labia, 
clinging in crystal clear drops to the soft red hairs. The heat between her 
legs was awesome, and every time she shifted her bottom, a waft of air would 
rush up from under the covers, up into her face, bathing her in the keen, 
foxy scent of her own arousal. 

"YESSSSSS," she crooned, shuddering at the sound of her own voice, her 
cheeks burning, her thighs splaying wide apart under the covers. Her fingers 
were moving very fast, the tips teasing down over her sticky petals, rubbing 
round and round the succulent oval of her vagina. Her legs jerked open, then 
closed, scissoring madly as she pressed harder, digging her fingers into her 
wetly parted slit. 

It thrilled her to the marrow when she realized just how excited she was 
getting ... and all by herself! It'd never been like this with Bill ... even 
when she'd thought she was having an orgasm. She knew now that she'd never 
experienced total release, that she'd never even come close. 

Then her finger jabbed between the slippery lips, screwing right up into the 
seething channel of her pussy. She hissed, arching her back up from the bed, 
swiveling her hips wantonly, and pushed her finger in and out of the wet 
passage, making the viscous lubricant well out of her cunt, making it smear 
over her pubic hair and smear over the rounded cheeks of her ass. 

When she touched her own clitoris, the tiny bud of blood-heated tissue among 
her juicy folds, the whole room exploded in white light. She could feel her 
belly begin to spasm, to contract, her pussy squeezing on her finger, and 
she knew that she'd found the key to her pleasure. Moaning, groaning, 
thrashing under the covers like a woman possessed, she stroked her clitoris 
with a fingertip, teasing the flickers of ecstasy from the tiny erect shaft. 

Under the covers, things had gotten hotter still. Droplets of perspiration 
were trickling from her armpits, misting her grinding hips and thighs. 
Caught up in the frenzy of her nearing climax, Darlene fitted a second 
finger in beside the first and started screwing them both in and out of her 
pussy at a mad rate of speed, making her labia sputter and vibrate lewdly. 

Then, snapping her hips up into her own greedily pistoning fingers, jouncing 
and bouncing so vigorously that she made the bedsprings creak and groan, she 
started to orgasm. She could feel her own pussy sphincter clasp moistly 
about her knuckles and feel the powerful inward tug of her belly muscles as 
joy exploded between her legs, rocketing up her spine in a devastating surge 
of pleasure. 

The ecstasy went on and on until she thought she'd go mad from it. Arching 
her back up from the bed so that she was supported only by her heels and 
shoulder blades, she let out a shrill, whimpering groan of satisfaction, 
fast-pumping the slippery hot shaft of her clitoris until the impossible 
waves of delight began to fade. 

Gasping, she slumped back to the bed, her blood pounding horribly in her 
temples. It had been so sweet, so wonderful, that she couldn't bear it. She 
began to cry softly, her hand still jammed between her thighs, her fingers 
still deeply embedded in her quivering vagina. She had cum! She had really, 
truly cum!! 

Gradually, her sobs dwindled away and her hand began to move again, to 
explore the inner ridges and valleys of her cunt, to tenderly caress the 
tender clitoral bud. Once she'd tasted the pleasure that her own body had to 
give, she couldn't seem to get enough of it. She continued to masturbate, 
reaching peak after peak of rapturous pleasure, until her pussy lay flowered 
wide open, softly trembling, until once again, she slipped off to sleep. She 
awakened much later to a sound coming from the living room, the sound of a 
door closing. She pulled her fingers from her pussy and held her breath, 
listening hard to catch the foot-steps of Rimbaud as he approached. She 
heard someone step through the doorway and into the small bedroom. She then 
heard the gentle hiss of his breathing, but the darkness was so thick that, 
try as hard as she could, she could only make out a hazy outline of his 
body. Even though she couldn't clearly see him, the idea that he was finally 
there in the same room with her, ready to seize her up, to spit her on his 
great, lusty cock, made her turn to jelly. 

On a deliciously wicked impulse, she suddenly flung back the covers, 
exposing her naked body to him. She made no effort to keep her thighs 
closed, but kept them spread, showing him the darkly-tufted triangle of her 
pubic hair against the stark white of the sheet. 

The breathing across the room stopped. When it started up again, it was much 
heavier, deeper. Darlene could tell that he was pleased by her body, by the 
tender promise of her lewdly splayed thighs. 

"Hurry, please," she said softly. "Hurry, I've been waiting for you so 
long." The sound of a zipper being undone cut through the stillness and sent 
shivers up her spine. She could hear him stripping out of the rest of his 
clothes, dropping his shoes to the floor with a heavy thunk! Her head was 
spinning and her heart was thudding up under her chin as she felt the end of 
the bed suddenly sag under his weight. 

"OH, MY DARLING! QUICK! QUICK, I CAN'T STAND IT ANY LONGER! GIVE IT TO ME!!" 
she gasped. The bed sank down on either side of her as he straddled her 
waist. Her hands jumped up greedily to touch the huge stony staff that she 
knew was waiting for her. It was there, all right, sticking up from the 
crisp nest of his pubic hair stiff as a plank, but it seemed different. She 
ran her fingers over it, working from the thick root and up along the 
curving shaft. It seemed to have a much more alarming bend to it than she'd 
noticed before and it was not nearly so thick in the middle. Her fingers 
slid up the smooth-skinned rod, up to the neck, then stopped. There was 
something there, something that hadn't been there before, a ruff of wrinkled 
skin, ringing the bulbous head of his penis. As he reflexively hunched 
forward into her caress, the grip of her determined fingers caused the 
foreskin to peel back from the head, which was sticky wet from seeping 
pre-cum. 

Darlene didn't know what to think or what to do. Her hand slipped from the 
oozing shaft, up over the hairy root, over a belly that was not flat and 
lean, a belly that bulged. She could feel the heaving of his chest as her 
hand moved higher and the throbbing pulse in his throat. Then her fingers 
were on his face, touching the hairless crown of his head. "God! You're not 
him!!" she gasped, jerking her hand back. 

The man reached over and flicked on the light. "Surprise!" Mr. Tucker said. 
Darlene blinked up at a lewdly curving penis that loomed over her chest, 
then at the ruddy face leering down at her nakedness. "NO!!" she wailed. 
"GET OUT! GET OUT THIS INSTANT!!" 

Tucker shook his head. "You don't want me to do that," he said. "Not when 
you've gone to all the trouble to get nice and wet for me." 

"Get out before Rimbaud comes," she warned him. "He'll kill you if he 
catches you here." 

Tucker looked at her breasts, at the pointy peaks of her tautened nipples. 
"I doubt that," he said. "I really doubt that." 

When he grabbed her breasts in both hands, Darlene shuddered, but she did 
not fight. She was certain that her new lover would come busting in at any 
second to protect her. 

"Such big tits!" Tucker moaned ecstatically, kneading the resilient flesh 
with his fingers. Darlene winced as he eagerly pinched her nipples. She 
didn't want to fuck him, she didn't want him touching her, she didn't want 
to have to look at the bulging, vein-marbled length of his penis another 
second. 

"STOP!!" she bawled, scratching the backs of his hands, kicking her legs on 
the bed. As she squirmed, she could feel the slippery moisture between her 
pussy lips, the hot seepage of her cunt that she, herself, had stimulated, 
that was flowing to lubricate the way for the stranger's cock. 

He squeezed her breasts so hard that she screamed and lay rigid beneath him 
on the bed. When she looked past the furious bulb of his cock and up to 
Tucker's round face, a chill rippled up her spine. She knew from his 
expression that he was not about to take "no" for an answer. There was lust 
in his eyes, and more: there was also something that didn't quite fit, 
something depraved. It was mindless, animal anger. 

"Spread your legs wider," he growled, putting a hand to his penis and 
pumping his fist up and down the length of his tapering shaft, milking a 
thick white fluid up from the hair matted bag of his scrotum. 

"God!" she whined, watching as the pre-cum oozed from his slit, smearing all 
over his fingers, his bulb, his shaft. She knew that she was about to be 
raped and that there was nothing she could do to prevent it. 

When she didn't move to obey him at once. Tucker scooted down and jammed his 
hard knees against the insides of her thighs, wedging them apart. 

"No, God! God, please!!" she sobbed, her hands reaching up automatically to 
fend him off. "God, no, wait!!" But the teacher was hot and horny and in no 
mood for waiting. He could see the pinkly gleaming, flowered open slit of 
her pussy, red hairs sopping with juice, and he could smell the seething, 
musky scent of her passion in the confined quarters of the bedroom. His cock 
was so hard, so swollen, that it felt like it was about to split its thick 
outer skin. There would be no foreplay with her, no fervent tongue kissing, 
no tender stroking of breasts and buttocks, no deep, insightful fingering of 
pussy. None of that was needed ... the lady in question was already hot as a 
firecracker. 

"PLEEEASE!!" she bawled, digging her nails into his forearms as he forced 
her knees to slide around his thighs, as he lowered his full weight down on 
top of her. He squirmed between her thighs until his groin and the 
super-heated underside of his cock came in contact with her soft, sticky 
loins ... hot slick skin touching hot slick skin. 

Tucker groaned in ecstasy as he screwed his hips forward and back, grinding 
his aching penis against the buttery wet lips of her vagina, feeling the 
silky hairs tickling at the bloated, pre-cum soaked bulb of his erect cock. 

"OH!" she cried, shuddering violently when she felt the hard, sperm-swollen 
orbs of his testicles digging into the very mouth of her pussy. She stared 
up in horror at the man's lust-twisted face, at the mindless savagery in his 
eyes. For a split second, a staggering instant, his face blurred and there 
was only the hot, hard pressure of his cock against her crotch, the feel of 
his balls rubbing into her buttocks, and she caught herself wondering if it 
really mattered who he was, so long as he was a man. That thought shamed her 
so that she began to weep. 

"I'll give you something to cry over, baby," he growled, his hot breath 
gusting over her face, his hand shoving in between their bellies to bend the 
bulbous head of his inflamed penis down, to cram it against the sticky 
petals of her pink pussy. "Here it comes!" 

Darlene shut her eyes tight and her hands slipped up to grip his tense 
biceps. When he lunged, a tiny shriek erupted from her throat. There was no 
way she could hold it in. Though Tucker was much smaller than Rimbaud in the 
cock department, he was much bigger than Bill. The massive head of his penis 
surged between her labia, scouring over the erect node of her clitoris, 
plunging right up into her wet cunt. The stinging pain was terrible. It felt 
like he was going to rip her apart. Like a bug on a pin, she writhed under 
him, trying to twist away from the impossible hurt. 

Tucker was oblivious to her pain. He jerked his hips back an inch or so, 
dragging his cockhead through the slick drapery of her pussy, moistening it 
in the sweat-like secretion of her vagina, then thrusting harder, deeper, 
stabbing fully half of his great erection into her vagina. 

"YOW!!" she screamed, suddenly fighting him like a madwoman, arching her 
back up from the bed with surprising power, kicking, pushing, scratching. 
She was beside herself with anger, furious over being so ruthlessly abused, 
so callously taken. 

The teacher took advantage of her wild squirming to buck his ass harder, to 
wedge the last few inches of his cock into her tight, throbbing pussy. In a 
way, her frantic attempts to keep him out only turned him on more. Her 
stomach muscles were drawn tight and they, in turn, made the narrow passage 
of her cunt even narrower, tighter around his skewering penis. 

"UHHH," she sobbed, slumping back in defeat as she felt the sturdy girth of 
his cock root stretching the mouth of her pussy, as she felt the 
sperm-filled rigidity of his balls nuzzling obscenely into her firm 
buttocks. There was no use in fighting him any longer. She was split to the 
hairs. 

Grunting, groaning like a beast, Mr. Tucker began to screw his wickedly 
curving cock in and out of her pulsating pussy. He puffed and panted, 
gripping her round hips and buttocks, forcing her to move her ass into his 
thrusts, to hurry the moment when he was totally buried in her loins. 

It would've been bad enough for Darlene if it'd just kept on hurting the 
whole time ... but, what was worse, it didn't. In no time, the ruthless 
lunges, the surging length of his slick penis, stretched out the walls of 
her pussy; in no time, it was going in and out of her in a blur, its upper 
surface rasping over the erect bud of her nerve-filled clitoris, her own 
slippery juices oozing out around its pumping girth, oozing down over the 
trembling cheeks of her ass. And there was no more pain. To her shame, her 
humiliation, there was only pleasure, deeply satisfying pleasure. 

She tried to fight it, to fight the urge to fuck him back. She bit her lips, 
thrashed her head, and cursed herself for having masturbated, for having 
gotten herself worked up into such a state that she'd respond to any kind of 
sexual treatment. She tried to fight, but it was no good. 

"OOOOOOH," she cooed, her buttocks twisting against his crushing grip, 
squirming her cuntal sheath down over his plunging cock, her knees lifting, 
tipping her entire crotch up to him, giving him access to every seething 
inch of her hot vagina. 

Tucker let out a choked laugh as he felt her starting to move under him. She 
was coming around! He fucked her harder, grunting as he did so, rolling his 
hips as he worked his thick penis in and out, making the sides of his shaft 
rub over every slick fold, every tender wrinkle of her pussy's walls, making 
his massive testicles smack viciously into the tight crack of her buttocks. 

Darlene clung to him desperately. Her head was reeling, her mind was coming 
unglued. She wrapped her long, smooth legs about the small of his back and 
greedily took in each and every ramming thrust of his manly cock, her pussy 
quivering, clutching, contracting spastically about the hard-driving rod. 
She could feel herself really starting to let go, feel the delicious tickles 
of joy dancing in her scalding loins. Between her parted thighs, everything 
was all sloppy wet. Her cuntal lips were all spongy and swollen, blubbering 
about the plunging shaft; her asscrack was dripping with clear lubricant, 
and the keen, foxy smell of her juices hung thick in the air. 

"UNF! UNF!!" Tucker grunted, each grunt punctuating a savage snap of his 
hips, the great, gleaming, friction-reddened length of his cock sluicing in 
and out in a wild blur. The teacher was off in a world totally his own, a 
world of rapidly crescendoing pleasure. He was sprinting for his own frantic 
climax, wallowing in the slippery heat of her tugging, squeezing cunt. 

"YES! YESSSSS!" she hissed up into his face, hoisting her feet way up in the 
air, kicking them about madly as delight blossomed in her super-heated 
pussy. Somewhere, deep down, under the rushing waves of ecstasy, she knew 
what was happening to her, she recognized what Tucker was teaching her as he 
savagely worked his penis through the sticky grip of her pussy ... that it 
truly didn't matter who he was ... that all she cared about was the 
skewering lunges, the staggering friction against her throbbing clitoris. He 
was showing her that she was nothing more than a bitch in heat, to be 
cornered in an empty lot, to be screwed round the clock by a rag tail gang 
of panting mongrels. 

For an instant, she actually thought that she was going to make it over, 
that she was going to finish with him. The tell-tale, rhythmic contractions 
were rippling over her belly and the sensation of pleasure was so intense 
that she wanted to scream. And every deeply burrowing lunge was pushing her 
closer to the brink, building up the friction heat in her loins until she 
thought they would melt. 

Then Tucker stiffened suddenly, his eyes bulging, his fingers digging into 
her buttocks so hard that it felt like he was going to rip them off. He held 
his huge, throbbing penis buried in her to the hairs, their sticky wet loins 
pressed tightly together. 

"AAAGGGHHH!" she moaned as she felt the monstrous rod of lust-hardened flesh 
throb powerfully within her, pushing out in all directions against the wetly 
clasping grip of her wildly spasming cunt. An icy shiver shot up her spine 
as she realized what was about to happen. 

"AHHHHHH," he sighed, his balls pumping furiously, his whole groin ablaze 
with orgasm. 

"NOOO!" she bawled, thrashing wildly under him, pummeling his naked buttocks 
with her heels. "NO, NOT YET! NOT YET!! PLEEEEEEASEJ NOT YET!!" But it was 
too late for Tucker to stop, even if he'd wanted to. Nothing save grim death 
could've kept him from emptying his aching testicles into her hot pussy. He 
pinned her tight to the bed so that all she could move was her legs and 
arms, and holding his cock hair-deep in her cunt, holding it perfectly 
still, he began to ejaculate into her soft, white belly. 

"NOOOOOON!" she cried as the first molten spray of exploding cum spattered 
the walls of her pussy. That she'd allowed herself to get so excited, that 
she'd submitted to the vile penetration, the rape, that she'd shown her 
attacker her weakness, only made her ultimate failure more shameful, more 
humiliating. He was shooting his thick, hot cream into her by the 
tablespoonful, his face flushed, twisted with animal ecstasy, and he was 
holding her pinned to the bed so she couldn't work the big rod in and out, 
so she had no chance of further fanning the flames of her own passion. 

"YEAH, YEAH," Tucker loudly gasped, his whole cock throbbing, the sticky 
fluid sizzling up its hollow center, gushing out into her waiting cunt. 
"God!!" she sobbed brokenly as she felt the searing sperm sloshing hotly in 
her belly, as she felt her own pleasure rapidly fading, her own frenetic 
climax slipping quickly out of reach. By brutally violating her he had taken 
her so far, so much farther than her husband ever had, only to leave her 
hanging there, whimpering was too much for her to take. All the resentment, 
the anger she had stifled over the years, came bursting out of her and she 
swung on him, bringing her open hand hard across his pleasure-twisted face. 

Tucker was so stunned by the force of the blow that he couldn't react. He 
just gawked at her while she hit him three more times. 

"You pig! You filthy pig!!" she shouted as the warm semen continued to jet 
into her pussy, her face livid with rage. The teacher finally got hold of 
himself and grabbed her by the wrists, pinning her arms over her head. He 
blinked at her for a long moment before saying anything. "Damned!" he 
croaked. "What's gotten into you?!!" 

"You wouldn't know, now would you?!" she snarled, viciously twisting, trying 
to get free of his pinioning hands, of his deeply embedded, still-throbbing 
cock. 

"Hey! Hold it! Cut that out!!" he said. 

"Let go of me! Let me up!!" she cried. As she said that, her pussy muscles 
tightened teasingly against his still-hard cock. Suddenly, Tucker realized 
what the problem was. She wanted more! The sexy redhead actually wanted more 
screwing from him! Even as he grinned down at her, as he started to move his 
hips, to pull his big, long cock back, then shove it in, her eyelids 
fluttered shut and she cooed deliriously up at him. 

Darlene didn't want to be so slavish, so servile, so obvious, but she had no 
choice. Her body was clamoring for more fucking, and when he began to screw 
her again, it accepted the deep penetration greedily, pleading for more. She 
was embarrassed by her own frantic need, by the hunger in her seething 
loins, but she could not hold back. 

"YES! OH, YES!" she gasped, her legs scissoring around his back, holding him 
tight. "YES!" He began to work up speed, fucking his cock in and out of her 
sticky pussy, but as he did, as she started to whimper and squirm excitedly 
under him, he knew that it was all going to be for nothing. He could feel a 
horrible ache in his balls and his cock was starting to buckle in the 
middle, to go all soft and mushy. Still, he did not stop lunging; in fact, 
he lunged harder, hoping against hope for a miracle, for a sudden 
resurrection of his throbbing hard-on. 

"OH! OH!!" she groaned as a particularly powerful contraction of her pussy 
forced the limp penis to plop out. It flopped down along the inside of her 
thigh like a great limp sticky wet sausage. 

It was plain from the expression on Tucker's face that he felt like hell. 
His body had betrayed him. He obviously wanted more from the luscious 
redhead, more fucking, more of the juicy suck and tug of her tight cunt, but 
his cock wouldn't allow it. He was all fucked out. 

Automatically, as she felt him slip out of her pussy, as she felt the 
horrible emptiness within her belly, she reached down, fumbling in under her 
slippery buttocks, grabbing hold of the thick but flaccid shaft of his 
penis. She let out a shrill, anxious-moan as she felt its limpness, but 
still made one half-hearted attempt to stuff the waggly-tipped cock back 
into her wide-open pussy. When the stiff prick buckled in the middle and 
refused to go back into her, she dropped it like a hot potato. 

"Hey, baby, I'm sorry," Tucker said, a pained grin on his face. "Really." 
She just glared up at him, at his fat face. "Give me a couple of minutes to 
catch my breath and we can try it again," he said. Then he laughed 
self-consciously"I guess I'm getting too old or something." 

"Har, har, har," said a braying voice from the doorway. 

"What's wrong. Tucker? Need some help there?" said another. 

Darlene stared wide-eyed across the room at the pair of figures peering in 
at her. "We'll be glad to volunteer for that duty," Lee said, unbuttoning 
his shirt. There was a massive bulge in the front of his uniform trousers, a 
massive, pulsing bulge. "Hey, did you check out the way old Tucker was 
rolling that big ass of his around?" Maxwell said, unbuckling his pants. His 
crotch, too, was horribly distended, pushed out of shape by a monumental 
erection. 

"Yeah," Lee said, smirking, "he almost had her going there for a second." 
Darlene's face turned deep red and she jerked her head to the side. They had 
been watching all along! Watching her fucking their fat friend! They were 
waiting their turn with her! Suddenly, she began to struggle, to try to get 
out from under the crushing bulk of the man on top of her. 

"NOOO. LET ME GO!!" she bawled, kicking, flailing her arms and pushing at 
him. 

"Hell!" Tucker groaned, doing his best to contain her. 

"Hey, Tucker! Hold her down!" Maxwell said. 

"Ride 'em cowboy!" Lee said. 

"Keep her pinned until we're ready," Maxwell told him. "At least you can do 
that right." 

"He's got the build for it," Lee chuckled. Darlene was not amused by the 
men's banter. She suddenly found herself smashed to the bed, the breath 
knocked out of her by the sheer weight pressing down on top of her. Her legs 
were lewdly splayed, wedged apart by the man's hips, her supple breasts 
flattened against his almost hairless chest. Pinned there, helpless to 
escape, knowing that the two other men were about to assault her, the 
redhead felt on the verge of fainting. The sensation of falling through 
space hit her again and there was a knot of cold fear in her belly ... not 
only fear at the prospect of what the animals would do to her, but fear 
because she knew that her pussy was already wet and open, lubricated with 
her juices and with the semen that had been shot up into it, because she 
wasn't sure how she was going to react, whether she was going to be able to 
control the new and devastating urges that seemed to be gaining more and 
more power over her. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

"Okay, Tucker," Lee said, moving to the edge of the bed, "you can roll off 
now." 

"That's right. Tucker," Maxwell told him, approaching from the other side of 
the bed, "move it! The real men are here." . When the fat man started to get 
up off of her, Darlene found herself clinging to him, trying to hide her 
nakedness from the others. It was no good. He rolled away and left her lying 
there, flat on her back, her legs parted. 

"Look at that cum!" Lee moaned excitedly, leering at the thick white fluid 
that was seeping from between the pouty pink flanges of her cunt, trickling 
down over her buttocks. 

Darlene shut her thighs tight and covered the swollen peaks of her breasts 
with her hands. 

"No, please," she said, looking from one man to the other. "Please, I don't 
want to." Both of the men were completely naked. Both of them were sporting 
lewd erections. Lee was much younger than Maxwell and his body showed it. 
His skin was smooth, satiny, tight over his bulging chest muscles. His 
penis, likewise, looked new and hardly used. It was a pale pink color and 
very, very thick. It was almost too thick for its rather short length, 
looking more like a club than anything else. The velvety pink head was broad 
and bulbous with a great, spongy rim atop it. All around the broad root was 
a ring of soft, sparse brown hair, and below the ring of hair hung a pair of 
big, bloated testicles in a wrinkly pink bag that was likewise fringed with 
hairs. There was definitely something bull like about his genitalia and it 
seemed to fit in with the rest of his stout, powerful physique. 

Maxwell, on the other hand, while he was in good shape for his age, was much 
more slightly built. His muscles were hard and lean, stringy. He had lots of 
hair on his chest, much of it gray, and the hair continued down over his 
stomach, down to his loins. His penis looked anything but new and unused. It 
stuck out from his crotch like a gnarled old tree limb, covered with warts, 
bumps and springy hairs. Though the overall cast of the thing was purplish, 
it had a decided yellowish brown tinge to it. Huge, blue veins marbled the 
underside of it, twisting, twining, bulging from the lust-hardened flesh. It 
was almost as thick as Lee's and was nearly twice as long. The wizened rod 
was enormous! It's knobby head was dark and purple, like a great smooth 
plum, a plum that oozed swaying strands of obscene white goo. Under the 
dense ruff of his pubic hair hung a pair of balls the size of apples, huge, 
sperm-filled orbs that were snuggled uptight against his loins, ready to 
gush their boiling contents up the long staff. 

"Hey, she doesn't want to," Lee said, grabbing hold of her left wrist and 
ankle. 

"No, please!" she bawled, recoiling at his touch, wincing at the power of 
his grip. 

"Imagine that," Maxwell said, taking hold of her right wrist and ankle. "It 
sure looked like you wanted to with old Tucker," Lee said, gently but firmly 
pulling her limbs toward him, forcing her ankles to come apart. "What has he 
got that we haven't got?" 

"Yeah, what?" Maxwell said, pulling her limbs toward him. 

Darlene let out a shrill wail of shame as she felt her legs being ripped 
apart, as she felt the whole of her crotch being spread wide open to the 
men's view. "What a pussy!" Lee exclaimed. Her face burned with 
embarrassment. She knew that her vagina was flowered open, the pink petals 
pouting from her mound, that it was smeared with the aftermath of Tucker's 
orgasm, the red hairs beaded with white drops of his sperm. In the close 
quarters of the bedroom, the scent of her pussy was thick and heavy, but 
even over it, she could smell the odor of male arousal, the fragrance of 
sweat and semen coming from the two men beside her on the bed. 

"Please, don't do this," she pleaded. "Please, Rimbaud will be here any 
minute. He'll be furious." 

Lee and Maxwell looked at each other curiously. 

"Rimbaud?" Maxwell said. 

"She thinks he's going to come in and save her," Tucker said, leaning 
against the wall, still panting from his recent exertion. 

"Har, har, har," Lee brayed. "She thinks he's her white knight! Some white 
knight! Hey, Mrs. Cairns, he's the one who invited us over!" 

She gawked at him in disbelief, her heart pounding. "No." she said. "No ... 
" 

"Yes," Maxwell told her. "You've got to understand that here at Valley View 
we don't get a lot of good-looking pussy, so when something sexy comes 
along, we share and share alike, right guys?" 

Tucker and Lee nodded. Darlene shut her eyes tight. She knew that what they 
were telling her was the truth, that she had been deluding herself all along 
by telling herself that Rimbaud was anything but an animal. He cared so 
little for her that he'd offered her body to his buddies! The shame she felt 
at that moment, not only for her stupidity, but for the weakness she'd show, 
the passion she'd displayed, was bottomless. She'd been forced to suck the 
black-haired man's cock against her will and had been made to love it; she'd 
been forced to accept Tucker's hurtfully curving penis in her pussy and 
she'd ended up begging him for more. Now, as she glanced fearfully at the 
two, hard-jerking sticks of male muscle upraised in lust at the voluptuous 
curves of her naked body, at the wet, pink promise of her open cunt, she 
knew that her degradation had only just begun, that the end was not in 
sight. 

"God, do I ever want to fuck some of that cunt!" Lee groaned impatiently. 
Maxwell frowned at him. "Before you do that, buster," he said, "there's 
something I want to do first. Tucker, get over here and hold her arms and 
legs for me." 

Darlene whimpered as the fat man grabbed her limbs and pulled, hauling her 
legs so far apart that the tendons stood out against the smooth skin of her 
inner thighs on either side of her jutting pubic mound. She'd never felt so 
helpless, so trapped, in all her life. 

"What are you going to do?" Tucker asked, his voice shrill and piercing from 
his excitement. 

Maxwell moved over on the bed, scrambling between her obscenely splayed 
thighs, kneeling there, his penis swaying in his lap like a dancing cobra. 
Darlene thought she could feel his eyes crawling over the wet, unguarded 
flesh of her vagina, the fat outer lips, the thinner, raggededged inner 
ones, over every damp hair on her mound. She shuddered, moaning from the 
horrible stretching pull the men were putting on her joints. 

The wiry man slowly scooted back a bit on the bed, putting his hands flat on 
the sheet just under her trembling buttocks. Then he started to lower his 
head. 

"Har, har, har," Lee chuckled nervously. Suddenly, Darlene knew what he 
intended doing to her ... he was going to kiss her pussy! She writhed 
against the punishing grip of the men beside her. She didn't want his mouth 
there! 

"NOOOOOO!!!" she wailed desperately. But Maxwell didn't care what she 
wanted. He fell on her nakedly splayed crotch like a madman, scooping up her 
round ass cheeks in both hands, dropping his head, burying his hot mouth in 
the sticky, semen-soaked folds of her pussy. 

When his lips touched her bare labia, Darlene's whole body jerked. It was 
like he'd touched a live wire to her clitoris! Her back arched up and her 
smooth hips flipped shamefully, bumping the hot slit right into his flushed 
face. 

"No, she don't want it," Lee said sarcastically. The fact that her pussy had 
already been ejaculated into didn't seem to bother Maxwell at all. He 
reveled in her cunt, in the sweet rich perfume of her sex. Mauling her 
buttocks with his fingers, he squirmed his mouth down over the juicy gash, 
sliding his tongue into the widely parted crevice, sweeping it over the 
silky fan of sperm-flecked hairs. 

Darlene was stunned. She couldn't believe that the man would do such a thing 
to her, that he'd greedily lick at her vagina even as another man's semen 
came dribbling out. The idea was humiliating to her, and at the same time, 
strangely arousing. It made her feel like a bitch in heat, a degraded, 
helpless thing unable to even clean herself ... and it also made her feel 
incredibly, astonishingly sexy. Her naked cunt was so intensely appealing to 
the man that he didn't care who'd screwed her or how many times. All he 
wanted to do was to kiss her pussy, to taste it. 

Over and above the purely mental thrills she was getting, the physical 
sensations, were just as powerful. The feeling of having his head between 
her legs, his hot breath gusting over the aroused meat of her pussy, his 
lips squirming, mouth gaping, head twisting, trying desperately to get all 
of her sex between his gaping jaws, turned him on. And his tongue was going 
wild! The long, wet tool was rubbing over the apex of her slit, soaking her 
pubic hairs in hot, viscous saliva, caressing the upper juncture of her 
pussy lips, the pouting peak that held the tiny, erect node of her clitoris. 

"GET IT, MAN! GET IT!!" Lee exhorted the snorting, hotly panting man. "EAT 
THAT PUSSY!!" 

"UHHH," Darlene gasped, thrashing fitfully as the moist tongue tip pushed in 
between her labia and found her steaming clitoris, as the sparks flew over 
her mound. He was teasing it unmercifully, flicking it back and forth like a 
tiny punching bag, making an incredible steam heat rise in her loins, making 
joy ripple up over her tummy. 

Maxwell whined into the juicy folds of her hair-rimmed cunt as he felt her 
clitoris hardened under the swirling tip of his tongue. Kneading her 
asscheeks furiously, he mashed his pursed lips down upon the wet meat of her 
cunt, down upon the oily little marble itself. 

"EEEYYYEEE!" Darlene howled, her eyes bulging, her whole body stiffening as 
she felt him start to actually suck her clitoris! He was nursing on the 
nerve-filled bud like it was some kind of obscene nipple. The sensation was 
too awesome, too devastating. The demon within her reared up and her hips 
started snapping rhythmically, hunching in a lewd parody of the sex act. 
Then orgasm hit her. It came up on her so fast that she didn't know what had 
happened. Waves of tickling pleasure broke over the summit of her sex, 
sending her pussy into a madly contracting fit, making her ass grind and 
squirm in his cupping hands. 

"What wild fucking!" Tucker gasped. 

"He's doing it! He's making the bitch cum!" Lee exclaimed. 

"UHHH!!!" she wailed, the colored lights flashing on and off inside her 
skull, the obscene suck and smack of his face against her quivering pussy 
music to her ears. Maxwell gripped her buttocks fiercely, hanging on as she 
writhed under his mouth, her wet pussy squishing into his chin, the fat 
outer lips actually parting over it, her silky inner thighs brushing his 
cheeks, hissing over his ears as she thrashed. The roar of that smooth skin 
in his head, the smell of her aroused cunt, so musky and dank, the taste of 
it, underpinned by the salty taste of cum, the feel of it sliding 
insightfully over his face, drove him mad with lust. His penis began jerking 
vigorously between his legs, snapping up to slap at his hairy chest, and at 
each snap, each slap, it sent tiny droplets of pre-cum splattering every 
which way. 

Darlene was no longer aware of her situation. It no longer mattered that she 
was being held down, that she was being forced to accept a strange man's 
lips and tongue upon her most secret parts. The waves of ecstasy were 
non-stop and blinded her to everything else. They made her twitch and jump 
like a puppet in the control of some demented puppet master. She didn't ever 
want the delicious feeling to stop. Not ever! 

"LICK IT!!" she moaned shamelessly, her voice strained, hoarse with emotion. 
"OOOHHH, PLEASE LICK IT!!" 

Gasping for breath, the wiry man raised his face from her sopping loins. 
"Damned!" Lee groaned, leering at the effect that all that sucking had had 
on her cunt. The pink flanges not only were widely parted, but actually 
drooped from her mound, like the petals of a hot house flower. 

"You can let go of her," Maxwell said with difficulty. "She isn't going to 
give us any more trouble." As the men released her, Darlene knew that she 
should've been shamed, humiliated by the implication that she was ready to 
willingly submit to whatever they desired of her ... but she was not. She 
was elated by the fact that she could now move freely on the bed. As Maxwell 
once again lowered his head between her parted thighs, she threw her right 
leg around his neck and pulled down wantonly, locking his face to her naked 
cunt with the back of her knee, raising her other leg, catching hold of the 
back of her thigh and dragging the knee down into the softness of her 
breast. She greedily tipped her entire crotch up from him to explore. 

"YESSS! YESSS!!!" she hissed, rolling her hips, making her erect clitoris 
tease over his wet lips, making the burning, seething slit of her vagina 
slide over his whole face, painting it with her pungent juices. 

Grunting, groaning like a wild animal, the older man hungrily ate her pussy. 
His tongue lapped hungrily at her pouting labia, swirling round and round 
them, poking at, teasing the very entrance to her vagina, then sweeping up 
over the silky fan of her pubic hair. 

Every time his tongue tip threatened to slide right up her pussy, Darlene 
shrieked; and every time he failed to split her, she let out an anguished 
moan. "OOOHHH! YOU'RE DRIVING ME CRAZY!!" she sobbed, mindless of the rapt 
audience, the leering pair of men who were watching the circular orbit of 
Maxwell's tongue as it rubbed over the soft pink petals of her cunt. She 
tossed her hips frantically, trying to force him to skewer her. 

As excited as he was, the experienced older man held back, continued to 
tease her, to stoke her inner fires, to build up her frantic need with 
slurping strokes of his tongue. He licked her pussy until she broke down 
completely, until she began to bawl and weep like a little lost child. 

It was too wonderful, too horrible. Darlene was right on the verge of 
another orgasm. It was so close that she could taste it, sweet and thick in 
her mouth like honey, and yet it was just out of reach. Every square inch of 
her pussy was tingling, throbbing, glowing with passion, and she began to 
cry, her chest heaving, her perfect, sloping breasts shuddering. 

"For pete's sake, man," Tucker moaned, "eat her out!!" 

"Do it!!" Lee said, anxiously. "I can't wait much longer. My balls feel like 
they're going to explode!" Maxwell let out a low, guttural growl and threw 
himself hard against the hot, slippery meat of her cunt, driving his tongue 
into it, parting the dewy moist folds of her vagina in one laving swipe, 
slithering it deep into her hot, churning belly. 

"OH!" she gasped as her pussy was suddenly filled from wall to trembling 
wall with thick, hot meat. Wantonly, she swiveled her hips, grinding her 
nakedly aroused cunt right into the man's feverish face, rubbing her wet 
pussy lips over his mouth, his nose, his cheeks, his chin while that long 
tongue of his was pushing in and out of her puckering, glistening slit, 
making the heavy lubricant well out. making it drool down over her smooth 
white buttocks. 

Inside her pussy, the tongue lashed and writhed frantically, rubbing over 
every inner wrinkle and fold, surging deep into her belly. This stranger, 
this ravenous beast, was doing things to her with his tongue, making her 
feel things that her husband had never been able to with his cock! The idea 
that she was getting so unbearably hot, so turned on by it, that she was 
doing it in front of two other men, made her feel a sharp twinge of guilt, 
but instead of that dulling her pleasure, it only made it more intense. His 
big, hot tongue was lashing about wildly inside her cunt, flicking at the 
hot nub of her clitoris, making her belly ripple with ecstatic sensation. 

Then it happened again. "YEEEEEEM!" she squealed, kicking her long legs up 
in the air. Delight exploded between her legs and it was much, much more 
powerful than before. Her pussy clamped down on his thrusting tool, 
squeezing it unmercifully as the awesome surge of pleasure rocketed up her 
spine. 

When Maxwell felt that first rippling, inward tug of her pussy muscles, he 
went even wilder. He wiggled his tongue maniacally, holding his open mouth 
pressed tight to her flaring pussy lips, lashing his tool over the stiff bud 
of her clitoris. 

Darlene reached down with both hands and gripped the man's hair, pulling, 
jerking at it as she whipped her buttocks up from the bed, trying to make 
him fuck his tongue in and out. 

She was so beside herself with passion that she hardly noticed it when the 
bed above her head suddenly sank down. Then warm, strong fingers were 
touching her face and she looked up with a start. Over her face loomed the 
jutting, blood-heated erection of Lee. It stuck out from his sparsely-furred 
loins like the boom of a sailing ship and, under its base, the bulging 
leathery bag of his scrotum was drum tight. 

"I ... oh! Oh, no...." she moaned weakly as Lee took hold of her chin and 
forcibly tipped her head back, so that her chin pointed directly up at the 
ceiling, so that her mouth was on a plane perpendicular to his upraised 
cock. 

"Oh, yes," he said, thickly, reaching up and taking hold of the neck of his 
stout penis, bending it down with difficulty, pressing the blood-heated, 
rubbery bulb hard against her soft lips. 

"Please, no," she murmured softly against the velvety tip. But then Maxwell 
was moving between her legs, bobbing his head violently, ramming his mouth 
hard into her cunt, her clitoris, ramming his chin deep between her 
buttocks, rasping it over her tiny, winking rectum. Her hips started 
flipping madly, smacking her splayed vagina hard against his face. 

Lee pressed harder, sensing her moment of helplessness, crushing her lips 
back against her teeth with the blunt tip of his cock. Moaning deliriously, 
Darlene gave in to the pressure and opened her mouth, allowing the huge knob 
to slide in, to fill her cheeks to the bursting point, to crush down upon 
her tongue and up upon the roof of her mouth. At the feel of that 
smooth-skinned bulb pulsing between her lips, she whined and opened her 
mouth wider, taking in the whole head, pursing her lips tight against the 
bulging, blood-heated neck, nursing on the musky scented plum with sudden 
vigor. 

"MAN, OH, MAN!!" Lee gasped, his eyelids narrowing to slits at the pleasure 
of her sucking caress raging down his lust-hardened cock. Her inhibitions 
gone, blown away by repeated orgasms, by the mad, squirming tongue digging 
deep into her open pussy, Darlene reveled in the feel of the hot penis 
against her cheeks, in the heat of it against her tongue. Cooing excitedly 
around the outlandish mouthful, she reached up to grip the thick shaft and 
began to stroke it lovingly, eagerly, as the grunting, gasping Lee began to 
screw his hips forward and back, to force the flaring rim of his cockhead to 
pop in and out of her pursed, wetly gleaming lips. She wallowed in the taste 
of his thick cock, in the pungent aroma coming off his lust-swollen 
testicles, in the breathy sighs and groans he made as he worked his cock 
through the madly sucking ring of her lips. 

Between her legs. Maxwell was snorting and sniffling, too, going at her open 
cunt like a hog at trough, licking, sucking, actually biting at the heavy, 
hair-fringed flaps of her labia, stabbing his long tongue so deep up into 
her that she thought he was trying to touch the end of Lee's cock ramming 
into her mouth. Everything was so delicious, so sexy, that it was beyond 
belief! 

Then the wiry man stopped fast-licking her clitoris and raised his head from 
her crotch. She tried to push his face down again but he wouldn't do it. As 
her head was tipped back to receive the thrusts of Lee's penis, she couldn't 
see what the man was doing, but could feel it. She could feel him levering 
himself up, wedging his hips between her thighs ... getting ready to fuck 
her! 

Maxwell gripped the huge, dark-skinned length of his rigid penis and bent 
its glistening tip down from against his semen-misted chest, pushing it down 
between her spread thighs, mashing the horribly bloated, purplish brown head 
against her wet, pliant pussy lips. 

She shivered at the feel of his hot cock pressing hard against the mouth of 
her vagina, shivered and sucked harder on Lee's penis, squirming her tongue 
excitedly over the smooth, hard flesh as it fucked in and out of her mouth. 
She wanted it. She knew she wanted it. Every fucking inch of it rammed up 
into her soft belly! She wanted to feel it pounding, screwing into her, 
turning her inside out, she wanted to cum around its pulsing girth. 

Lee, seeing that his buddy was about to ram his huge cockhead into her tight 
moist cunt, picked up his tempo, sending his penis surging deeper and deeper 
into her mouth until its tip pushed over the back of her tongue, until he 
was actually thrusting into the tightness of her throat, until his hugely 
thick erection was choking her, hurting her, sawing back and forth over her 
tongue savagely ... and she adored it! She tipped her chin up even higher, 
giving him total access to her throat and nuzzled her beautiful, blushing 
face into his hairy scrotum, rubbing her nose against the heavy, 
sperm-filled balls as they jumped forward and back. 

When Maxwell fucked into her, he did it sadistically, like a bull fucking a 
helpless cow. There was no gentle initial pressure, merely a single savage 
lunge. The heavy moisture of her pussy, the slippery juice of his saliva, 
the white seepage of his pre-cum lubricated the brutal entry, but it was 
still agonizing. The broad face of his penis surged between her parted pussy 
lips, plowing into the narrow passage of her cunt like a fist ramming into 
soft, sweet butter. 

She gargled her pain into Lee's thrusting cock as she felt herself filled as 
never before, her vagina being ripped asunder by the massive, lust-engorged 
penis. "SO FUCKING TIGHT!" Maxwell gasped, pausing, wallowing in the 
succulent grip of her vagina. 

The sharp pain brought Darlene abruptly out of her passion-induced stupor. 
She was suddenly completely lucid, completely aware of what was going on, of 
the fact that she was trapped in the tiny room, on the rumpled, 
semen-stained bed, pinned between the loins of two animalishly aroused men, 
a hugely throbbing cock jamming deep into her throat, while another, even 
larger one, tunneled mercilessly up between her legs. To her horror, the 
cruel intrusion into her cunt grew and grew as Maxwell hunched against her, 
wedging his cock into her, inch by cunt-splitting inch. Finally, she felt 
the weight of his hard loins against her pussy mound and knew that somehow, 
some way, he had managed to propel all of his cock into her. 

"FUCK HER! FUCK HER!!" Tucker cried, bouncing on the bed beside them. 

Maxwell groaned ecstatically and began to do just that, dragging his aching 
penis back through the sucking, searing hot grip of her cunt. Darlene moaned 
piteously into Lee's skewering cock, his testicles bumping hard against her 
nose and forehead. Her broken cunt felt like it was being fucked by a 
telephone pole, and the more she tried to resist the obscene pistoning 
motion of the huge rod, the more it hurt. In truth, her efforts were worse 
than useless. Her frantic writhing only incited Maxwell more as her cuntal 
muscles clasped tight around his cock, milking it frenetically. 

Pushing up off the bed with his hands so he could watch the proceedings, the 
wiry man began fucking in and out of her in long, plunging strokes. The 
steady slogging, the powerful friction, had an almost immediate effect on 
the narrow passage. As it began to heat up, it relaxed, stretching, yielding 
to the insistent pressure of all that meat. In seconds, the moist sheath of 
her cunt was slipping easily back and forth over the rigidly throbbing 
thickness of his cock, gliding in and out as if on ball bearings. 

As the pain in her loins dwindled, it was gradually replaced by another, 
altogether different sensation. The slippery, sliding movement of his huge 
cock over her clitoris, the deeply probing thrusts destroying her, 
obliterated her moment of sanity. A red haze came down over her eyes and she 
rotated her buttocks slightly, testing the hurt, and finding none, she moved 
her bottom forward and back, forcing her pussy to gulp the skewering length 
of his cock. The feeling was so delicious, so wickedly exciting that she did 
it again, thrusting harder, shuddering as she felt the massive, hairy bag of 
his scrotum delving deep between her ass cheeks, actually brushing the 
sensitive ring of her tiny anus. 

"Look at her screw!" Tucker moaned. Maxwell was doing just that. As he 
jerked his hips to and fro, fucking his gleaming erection in and out of her, 
he watched, peering down over his own belly. He could see the sweat and 
saliva-soaked ruff of her red pubic hair, see the way it clung moistly to 
the flaring, ovaled pink lips of her vagina. He could see those tender pink 
lips puckering, clasping and unclasping around his hard-driving penis. 

Lee, peering down at the action from the other end, could see it all, too, 
and the sight of all that hard meat burrowing into Darlene's wetly gleaming 
cunt drove him wild. He fucked into her face harder, forcing her to swallow 
every inch of his thick penis, grinding his smooth loins against her face, 
rubbing his balls against her nose. 

Darlene had never felt so utterly sued and debauched in all her life. She 
was taking hard cock from both ends at once, taking it like a seasoned 
whore, and loving it. There was only one thought in her mind at that 
instant, and that was to bring off both men at once. She sucked frantically 
on the lust-heated pipe of Lee's penis, swallowing down the salty ooze of 
his pre-cum that was mixing with and thickening her own saliva, that was 
filling her head with its cloying, masculine aroma. She sped up the rolling, 
hunching movement of her hips, working the moist, stretched sheath of her 
pussy faster and faster over the pistoning cock between her legs. 

Lee suddenly jerked in front of her, his hands dropping to grip the sides of 
her face. "OOOHHH!" he cried, his eyes bulging, his hips going berserk, 
madly thrusting his cock through her ovaled lips. 

She felt his penis throb ominously between her lips and then it was 
happening! A gush of boiling hot, slippery fluid jetted into her mouth, 
choking her. "He's squirting!" Tucker wailed. "AAAGGGHHH!" Maxwell groaned, 
looking up from his own cock to the red, gleaming rod pumping in and out of 
Darlene's pale face. Her wet lips were a juicy seal sliding up and down over 
the visibly pulsing rod. 

She gulped down the first pulse, but before she could fully recover, Lee 
shot again and again. Vast quantities of sperm poured into her mouth and 
throat, too much for her to gulp down. Coughing, sputtering, her hands 
fluttering pathetically at her sides, she tried to make him pull back a 
second. 

Lee wasn't paying any attention to her. He was too busy lunging, spearing 
his spurting cock into her open mouth. Her lips came away from the slogging 
shaft, spraying cum every which way as she fought to catch her breath. The 
sight of the white semen drooling from her soft lips, smearing over the 
smooth skin of the driving penis, was too much for Maxwell to take. He let 
out a hoarse croak and started fucking her with all his might, battering 
mercilessly into her loins, making her breasts twist and jiggle obscenely at 
every jarring impact. 

The sudden flurry of fucking was enough to send Darlene over the brink 
again. A shrill cry erupting from her sperm-drenched throat, she hoisted her 
long legs up high in the air, angling the pliant passage of her vagina up to 
receive the full benefit of every inch of his thrusting cock. The sawing 
pressure against her clitoris brought her off. Her pussy squeezed down on 
his cock like an iron fist in a hot buttered velvet glove. "AAAGGGHHH!" 
Maxwell cried, his back arching, every tendon standing out in his neck and 
shoulders as he lunged his penis home, fucking it through the suddenly much 
tighter channel. The added friction was enough to bring him off, too. 
Gasping, wheezing, he savagely humped on her upturned cunt as his massive 
penis pulsed and jerked in its convulsive grip. 

Darlene shrieked as the molten lava surged into her vagina, shrieked and 
went wild. Both of them were cumming into her at once! The sensation was so 
devastating that it overpowered everything else. Suddenly, she no longer 
cared about choking to death. She reached up with both hands and seized the 
semen and drool-coated shaft of Lee's cock, wrapping her lips tight about 
the neck, holding the bulb in her mouth, sucking with all her might. 

"OOOWWW!" Lee wailed, stopping the frantic hunching movement of his hips, 
watching in awe as the lovely redhead did all the work herself, as she 
pumped her fists up and down his jerking, ejaculating penis, sending spurt 
after spurt of his thick semen shooting into her hungry mouth. 

Both ends of her body greedily accepted the cloudy, warm male fluid, taking 
it in as if she were dying of thirst for it. Her hips kept on flipping, 
forcing her cunt to swallow the orgasming cock, her hands kept pumping, 
teasing gush after gush into her mouth. Only when the two men stopped 
spurting did she stop her wild gyrations. 

Lee pulled back from her, drawing his glistening cock from between her 
still-sucking lips. His face was horribly flushed, his chest heaving. 
Maxwell left his penis in the hot grip of her quivering cunt a second 
longer, relishing the feel of it tugging reflexively at his softening 
erection. Then he too pulled out of her, and as he did, as the rubbery head 
of his cock popped out, it unleashed a torrent of hot, viscous semen that 
poured out of her vagina and rushed over her buttocks in white wave. 

Darlene opened her eyes. The room was spinning round and round and between 
her legs. Between her lips there seemed to be a horrible vacuum, an 
unbearable emptiness. Instead of being completely satisfied by the dual 
ravishment she had just endured, the prolonged fucking and sucking only made 
her more aroused! She felt herself plummeting through space, falling at a 
dizzying speed into a vast abyss. 

"Mind if I go next?" said a voice from the doorway. 

Darlene moaned. It was a new voice. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

As she turned her head to look, a lukewarm drip of sperm oozed down the side 
of her face, trickling into the soft waves of her hair. 

"No, sir!" Tucker said. "We don't mind at all." 

Colonel Drake grinned. "I didn't think you would," he said, stripping out of 
his shirt. Darlene gaped at the man in disbelief. Her initial shock was 
because, of all the men on the academy faculty, the headmaster was the last 
one she would've ever suspected of involvement in a gang bang. The second 
wave of shock was due to the amount of involvement he was displaying in the 
front of his trousers. His penis was already erect, crammed like a baseball 
bat down the inside of his trouser leg, the massive, bulbous head clearly 
visible under the khaki material. The wickedness at Valley View obviously 
went from top to bottom and the conspiracy against her sons was suddenly 
very real. 

"I think you'll like her, sir," Tucker said, responding to his superior in a 
servile manner. "She's super tight." 

"Ignore him, colonel," Lee said, smirking, "He doesn't even know where to 
put it," Maxwell added. 

"Well, gentlemen," the colonel said, "I think I do." It was hard for Darlene 
to comprehend what was happening. The men were joking, teasing each other as 
if they did this sort of thing all the time; they seemed much too calm, too 
relaxed. It was almost as if they were talking about riding a bicycle ... 
only the bicycle in question was her! 

The colonel's body was deeply tanned and lean. His skin was smooth and 
either he was born without a hair on his chest or had the habit of shaving 
it because he was completely bald. As he bent over to remove his pants, the 
golden chain he wore around his neck swayed back and forth slowly. 

Darlene wasn't watching the chain, though. Her eyes were riveted to his 
crotch. She gasped aloud when he pulled down his trousers. His thick prick 
was sticking out of the leg of his acetate, bikini style briefs, jutting 
luridly down along the inside of his hairless thigh. 

"He carries a big stick, doesn't he?" Maxwell quipped. 

The colonel straightened up proudly, thrusting his pelvis forward so she 
could get the full effect. She was stunned. The man's cock ran the entire 
length of his thigh, from crotch to knee, and it was the same tanned color 
as the rest of his body, except for the massive, shiny head, which was a 
ruddy purple. That head was as big across as her clenched fist, and beneath 
it, snaking over the underside of the long shaft, were hugely thick blue 
veins. Even as she gawked at it, it pulsed ominously and the head swelled 
up, then shrank back as if it had a separate life of its own. As it did 
that, a blob of creamy white fluid oozed from the deep slit in the heat, 
dribbling down the side of his calf. 

"You only thought you heard her squeak before," the colonel said, obviously 
enjoying the look of awe on her flushed, spermy face. "Once I get started, 
she's going to really raise the roof!" 

Then the man peeled down his bikini briefs and, as the waistband cleared the 
massive bulb, his whole rigid member jerked up from against his thigh like a 
high tension steel spring. It smacked so hard against the smooth muscle of 
his chest, spattering cum over his pectorals, that Darlene jerked at the 
sound. 

"Ha, ha, ha," Lee chuckled. "This is really going to be something." The lewd 
spear was sticking straight up in the air, its obscenely glistening snout 
pointing at his chin, and the vein marbled underside facing her. It looked 
like he had a log for a cock, a great, smooth log. And under the broad root, 
all around it, there was no hair. His pubic area was shaved as bare as the 
rest of him. Somehow that made him seem even more naked. It made his cock 
look more outlandish and emphasized the pendulous bag of his scrotum, a 
leathery sack that held two of the biggest balls Darlene had ever seen 
outside of a zoo. Any hair down there at all would've partially hidden the 
low-swaying bag. She was amazed to see that even the wrinkly scrotal skin 
itself had been shaved or plucked free of fur. 

Instead of being revolted by the huge, shaved penis and balls, she found 
herself getting aroused just looking at it. The idea of all that hard meat 
fucking in and out of her cunt made her whimper with anticipated pleasure. 

"She wants it, all right, colonel," Lee said. "Want's it bad." 

"I don't think we have to hold this one down for you, sir," Tucker said. 

Darlene felt her face blush. The headmaster regarded her intently for a 
second, then grinned. "No, I think you're right. Tucker," he said, kneeling 
on the edge of the bed. "She's going to be just fine all by herself. Aren't 
you, Mrs. Cairns?" 

His voice was husky, soothing, like a gentle caress. She let her head fall 
back to the bed and shut her eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly as 
her excitement grew. He moved between her carelessly splayed thighs, 
reaching down and running his fingers through the sperm-soaked mat of her 
soft, red pubic hair, feeling the buttery softness of her pussy lips. 

She shuddered at his touch, her hips lifting, pushing the juicy, hungry 
flesh of her pussy hard against his hand. "Spread your legs wider," the 
colonel said. "As wide as you can." Without thinking twice, she did as she 
was told. She opened her legs so wide that the outsides of her knees 
actually touched the bed, so wide that the sticky lips of her vagina gaped 
lewdly, invitingly. 

"Damned!" Tucker groaned, lowering his head to a level with the bed, peering 
at her splayed cunt. "I can see all the way to China!" 

"Hell," Lee brayed. "He thinks that's China!" 

Maxwell joined in on the laughter at Tucker's expense. "It's a good thing 
you don't teach geography," he said. "We'd have some mighty confused 
cadets!" 

"Some mighty fucking horny ones, too!" Lee added. The colonel's skilled 
fingers gently peeled the lips of her cunt even further apart, turning them 
back on themselves, opening up the full length of her slit. Between her 
legs, her labia pouted obscenely, puckering from under the damp mound of red 
hair. 

Everything was taking so long! Darlene felt as if she'd go crazy if he 
didn't hurry up and shove his big cock into her! She moaned and wiggled 
provocatively on the bed, trying to encourage him to speed things up. 

The colonel would not be hurried, however. He was very methodical about his 
fucking. Once he'd parted her slit to his satisfaction, he worked up a big 
gob of spit and shot it into his palm. Then he rubbed the thick fluid over 
the knobby head of his penis, working it down over the sides of the shaft. 

"UHHHHHH," Darlene whined, her bottom twitching. 

"I think she's got ants in her pants!" Lee said. 

"Only she isn't wearing any pants!" Tucker chimed in, trying to make a joke 
and blowing it. 

"Wait until he gets that big dick into her to the hairs," Maxwell said, 
ignoring Tucker entirely, "then you'll see some squirming!" Darlene watched 
in lustful anticipation as the colonel bent his long cock down and aimed it 
between her thighs. When he touched her peeled back labia with the slippery, 
searing hot tip, she shivered and moaned, shutting her eyes tight, waiting 
eagerly for the first, powerful lunge. 

The lunge was not forthcoming, however. Not yet, anyway. "Excuse me," said a 
deep male voice from the doorway. "Is this a private party or can anyone 
jack off?" 

"Rimbaud!" the colonel said, pulling back from her pussy. "Where the hell 
did you sneak off to? We've been waiting for you." 

The black-haired man smirked at the trio of naked men, at their upraised, 
gleaming erections, at the obviously, much-fucked, swollen pink gash of 
Darlene's pussy. 

"Yeah, sure you've been waiting," he said. 

Darlene blinked at him, making no effort to close her thighs, to hide the 
fact that sperm was still dripping from her quivering slit. There was no 
point to it. 

"I'm glad you found a way to pass the time," he said, unbuckling his pants. 

The other men all looked down as Rimbaud disrobed. They, too, were in awe of 
the man's massive hunk of cock, a member that even dwarfed the colonel's. 
She watched him strip out of his shorts, her anxiety peaking as she saw that 
he was not hard. His penis dangled limply from the dense nest of his pubes, 
the heavy head swaying slightly as he moved. Even soft, it was bigger than 
Tucker's! 

"Hey, I think the little lady needs something," Maxwell said, gesturing at 
the whining, whimpering woman with a thumb. 

The colonel turned back to her at once. "Yeah, all right," he said, pulling 
his cock back down and starting to fit it to her parted slit. 

Rimbaud stopped him from lunging, putting his hand on his shoulder. "Just a 
minute, colonel," he said. 

Darlene whinnied and tried to flip her hips, to position herself on the 
broad cockhead. She wanted desperately to get fucked! 

Colonel Drake drew back, completely ignoring her frantic squirming. "What is 
it, son?" he said to the black-haired man. Rimbaud wrapped his thick fingers 
about the shaft of his soft cock and began to pump, pulling quite hard on 
the flaccid length of meat, making it stretch way out, making the limp head 
wiggle back and forth lewdly, slapping the sides of his hand. 

"If you don't mind, sir," he said, grinning at the older man, "there's a 
little something that I'd like to do to her first ... something that I think 
you'll all get a kick out of." The colonel nodded. "All right," he said. 
"You've never disappointed any of us before, Rimbaud. You know what gets our 
juices flowing." 

"It's his hot Latin blood," Lee suggested, fondling his own testicles, a 
rapturous look slipping over his face. 

The colonel scooted back from between Darlene's legs and a rush of cool air 
swept over her open cunt. Her eyes wild with need, she reached up to 
Rimbaud, extending her arms to him, but he just smirked at her. 

"Not like that," he said. "You've already had it like that." 

A chill raced up her spine. Then, before she could whimper, he was gripping 
her hip and forcing her over on her belly on the sticky sheet. 

"WHAT AN ASS!" Tucker loudly exclaimed, leering at the round, firm moons of 
her ripe buttocks. 

"What are you going to do to her?" Lee asked excitedly, his fingers milking 
insistently at the tautening bag of his ruddy scrotum. The black-haired man 
ignored the question, reaching down and taking hold of the redhead's slim 
waist. She shivered at his touch and then he was forcing her to lift her 
belly up from the bed, to raise her bottom up in the air, to assume a 
horribly submissive, kneeling position before him. 

"OOOHHH!" Maxwell groaned, his eyes locking over the svelte curve of her 
spine and the upturned swelling of her buttocks. Darlene dug her fingers 
into the rumpled covers, burying her face in the sheet. Her breasts were 
forced down into the bed so hard that they were pushing out from under her 
smooth shaven armpits, ballooning out like water wings, and her bottom was 
slavishly lifted, offered up meekly to the view of all the men. Again, she 
realized with a shudder that the pit of degradation she was slipping into 
had no bottom. Just when she thought she could sink no lower, when she 
thought she'd been humiliated as much as humanly possible, the floor opened 
up under her once again. 

Rimbaud roughly caressed the smooth domes of her ass, and as he did, he 
jammed his right knee between her legs, wedging them apart, then slipping 
his other knee in, too. 

"UHHH!" she groaned into the sour, sticky sheet as he opened his knees, as 
he forced her thighs to splay wide apart, so wide that the strain on her 
pelvis was sheer agony. 

"This is going to be good!" Lee said enthusiastically, his fingers gliding 
up and down over his jerking erection. Rimbaud gently slipped his thumbs 
into her tightly clenched asscrack, carefully levering the firm buns apart, 
exposing the full length of her crotch, from the tiny, pink, wrinkled ring 
of her anus to the shaggy, cum-dripping summit of her red-bearded pussy. "OH 
DAMNED!" Maxwell choked, standing on his tiptoes to see it all. 

Darlene sobbed miserably as she felt her buttocks being pried wider apart, 
as she felt the sticky lips of her vagina stretching from the outward 
pressure. What was he going to do?! she thought, her mind reeling. What was 
he going to do back there?!! 

Rimbaud leered at her nakedly splayed fork, his thumbs holding it all open 
to view. He could see right up into her pussy itself, see the rhythmic 
contractions of her pussy mouth, the round, moist hold opening, closing like 
some deep sea creature. He slipped his thumbs deeper into her crack, until 
their pads touched the sticky hairs, until, when he spread his hands, he was 
spreading her whole cunt open alarmingly. 

The other men gawked at the yawning crevice, at the angry, passion-roused 
feminine flesh, their breathing growing heavier, faster by the second. 

Then the black-haired man lowered his head and moved his face forward, 
planting a tender, wet kiss on her right buttocks. "OHHHHHH!" Darlene 
moaned, burying her face deeper in the bed. A galvanic shock bolted up her 
backbone, a surge of sheer pleasure at his gentle kiss. And the heat in her 
loins suddenly blossomed, roaring like a bonfire as she thought she knew 
what he was going to do. He was going to kiss and lick her cunt! He was 
going to have at it like Maxwell had done earlier, stabbing his tongue deep, 
drinking down the fragrant juice of her vagina! Cooing deliriously, she 
moved her bottom against his grip, waggling it ever so slightly, wanting him 
to mash his hot mouth onto her cunt, wanting him to tongue her so deep, so 
hard that she would orgasm in his face! 

Rimbaud grinned at her little wiggle and blew his hot breath over the 
gleaming, ragged flanges of her cunt, blew it right up into her open, moist 
passage. She moaned again at that, moaned louder, and her ass cheeks moved 
more vigorously. The rush of warm air was like a feather's touch: it teased, 
it incited her seething cunt, which demanded a much harder, more brutal 
caress. 

He could sense the anxious anticipation of the woman kneeling submissively 
before him. She wanted him to lick her inflamed cunt, to lap up the spent 
semen of the other men, but her cunt did not interest him. He pried her 
satiny ass globes even further apart, opening them until her crotch was a 
flat, silky smooth plane between his powerful hands, until she squealed in 
pain. Then he moved his face forward. 

Darlene was ready for the touch of his mouth to her gaping, trembling pussy; 
she had steeled herself for it. What she was not ready for was what 
happened. Rimbaud's mouth pushed against her crotch, all right, but instead 
of pressing against her cunt, it pressed against the tiny, outwardly 
stretched ring of her anus! 

"NOOOOOO!!!" she howled into the sheets, her whole body jerking violently at 
the intimate, obscene kiss. 

Rimbaud anticipated her reaction and gripped her buttocks tightly so she 
couldn't squirm away. Breathing heavily through his flared nostrils, he 
kissed her right on her wrinkly little rectum, rubbing his lips lewdly over 
the tightly clenched ring, kissing it like he would've kissed her mouth, 
twisting and turning his head between her widely splayed buns. 

"I don't believe it!" Tucker said. 

"Damned! He's kissing her fucking ass!" Lee groaned, his hand moving in a 
blur over his jutting erection. He wasn't the only member of the group who 
was masturbating, either. Both the colonel and Maxwell had become so aroused 
by what their colleague was doing to the redhead that they, too, were 
feverishly stroking their long, thick cocks. 

Waves of shame and disgust swept over the obscenely kneeling woman. He was 
kissing her anus! He was kissing it and obviously enjoying it no end. She 
wanted to get away, to crawl off the bed and evade the nasty, hot, wet mouth 
that was pressed against her most secret spot, but his grip on her ass was 
too strong, and no matter how desperately she clawed at the covers, she 
could make no headway. 

The more Rimbaud kissed her there, the more excited he became, the more 
animated was his caress. He let his lips part over the small aperture and 
then touched it softly with his tongue. 

Darlene jerked as if he'd stuck a live wire up her ass. "NOOOOOO!!!" she 
bawled, shaking her head, making her red hair fly back and forth. The 
feeling was indescribable as he swirled his tongue lasciviously between her 
buttocks. It was both horrible and wonderful ... horribly degrading and 
wonderfully exciting. She had never known that her anus was so sensitive, 
and what he was doing to it was sending surges of ecstasy rushing over her 
cunt. The fact that he was forcing her to submit to such a vile thing, and 
that she was getting pleasure from it, only made her shame and humiliation 
greater. 

"He's rimming her ass!" Tucker said, pointing at the wet, red tip of his 
tongue as it teased around the tiny, puckering ring. The chubby man's penis 
suddenly returned to life, jerking up from against his thigh, curving lewdly 
from his nest of curly pubic hairs. 

Rimbaud had felt her lurch forward into the bed at the first touch of his 
tongue to her red hot pore, but she was no longer trying to burrow down into 
the mattress or crawl off of it to escape. She wasn't doing anything at all. 
She was just kneeling there, obediently holding her ass up for him to lick. 
Lick it he did, until he had it bathed with his hot slobber. Then he 
suddenly pulled back an inch and waited. He was not disappointed. 

Darlene moaned when she felt his tongue come away from her rectum, and then 
her body moved automatically, instinctively backwards, pushing her naked 
hole toward him in an unmistakable gesture of total surrender. With one 
quick rush, he speared his tongue between the pliant, hairless lips of her 
anus, his mind sizzling with thrills as he heard his submissive partner gasp 
at the sudden and unexpected entry into her rectum. It was hot and tight in 
there and he burrowed deeper instantly, lashing his tongue over the rubbery 
walls, moaning balefully through his nose. 

When she felt that smooth, hot thing slither up her ass, Darlene let out a 
shriek of delight. The demon was in full control now. He was pulling her 
strings to suit his own evil whims. Her anal sphincter contracted, opening 
and closing tightly around the swirling length of his tongue, and her hips 
started to churn, to bob, to work the crazily waggling tool in and out of 
her virginal passage. 

"Goddam!" the colonel cried as he watched, bug-eyed, while the lovely woman 
twisted and gyrated her upturned ass back against Rimbaud's burrowing face, 
as he watched the round ring of her pore stretch wide to receive the pointed 
probe, to gobble it down. 

The black-haired man worked like a fiend behind the kneeling woman, his 
tongue corkscrewing in, then twisting out, reaming the narrow, blazing 
channel of her ass. The faster he tongue-fucked her, the louder she wailed 
and the harder she pushed her bottom back against his face. He couldn't help 
but laugh into the slobbery cleft of her buttocks. He was tonguing her butt 
and she was about ready to cum! 

Darlene could no more control the shrill cries of pleasure rushing from her 
lips than she could stop the wild squirming of her ass. She was completely 
out of control, driven half mad by the delicious and perversely obscene 
sucking and tonguing of her rectum. Panting, puffing, she bucked back, 
impaling herself over and over again on the stiffened tool, building herself 
up to yet another screaming climax. 

Sensing that she was getting too hot and not wanting her to cum, yet, 
Rimbaud suddenly pulled his face back, dragging his tongue from her 
convulsing anus. 

"OHHH!" she gasped as the long probe slipped free, as the cool rush of air 
hit her saliva moistened pore. 

"What now?!! What now?!!" Tucker moaned. Grinning, wheezing with animalistic 
arousal, Rimbaud raised himself up. As he did, everyone in the room, save 
Darlene, could see what the ass licking had done for his penis. It was no 
longer soft and limp. It stuck out like a tree trunk from his hair-matted 
loins, every blue vein bulging with hot blood, every tendon standing out 
hard against the smooth outer sheath of skin. 

"He's going to fuck her, stupid!" Lee snapped at the chubby man. 

"Yeah," Maxwell said, his eyes gleaming, "but the million dollar question is 
... where?" Kneeling behind the slavishly prostrated woman, Rimbaud gripped 
the rigidly throbbing shaft of his penis between his thumb and forefinger, 
aiming the hard, swollen head in the general direction of her cuntal 
opening. Still holding her asscheeks with the fingers of his other hand, he 
watched keenly as her puffy, sperm-soaked pussy lips expanded and contracted 
spastically. Her anus, reddened from the friction against his lips, also 
opened and closed, winking at him. He moved closer, wedging his hips further 
between her thighs. 

Darlene knew what was coming. Her whole body ached, quivered, throbbed in 
anticipation of the feel of his huge cock surging up into her wet cunt, 
filling her as she'd never been filled before. There was no shame for her at 
all. Her need was too strong for such emotions. Every fiber of her being 
clamored for a good hard fucking! 

Rimbaud intended giving her just that, but not where she wanted it! With his 
massive cock gripped in his right hand like a huge, steely club, he surged 
forward. "YEEE!! NOOO!!!" Darlene screamed, wrenching her face up from the 
bed as the huge battering ram plowed relentlessly between her splayed 
buttocks, as the monstrous, semen-dripping knob end crushed brutally against 
her saliva-lubricated, tongue-widened anus. 

The black-haired man chuckled at her mad writhing, her frantic attempt to 
escape anal impalement. There was no escape. Not when her hole was already 
slippery wet, not when his cock was hard as a pipe! He let out a sudden 
growl of pleasure as the tiny, stretched opening of the woman's anus slipped 
over his smooth-skinned bulb, clasping it, slipping down to tightly grip the 
thick, pulsing neck of his penis. 

"OH, MAN! MAN!!" Tucker cried, bouncing excitedly on the bed, his own hard 
cock snapping insistently between his legs. 

"HE'S FUCKING HER IN THE ASS!" Lee said, his face horribly flushed. 

"SON OF A BITCH!" the colonel exclaimed, rapturously milking his huge 
erection, teasing long, swaying gobs of white pre-cum from it. Darlene 
fought desperately to evade the hard, hurtfully thick cockhead, but all her 
writhings were in vain. She shrieked again as he lunged, as he sank even 
more of his massive erection into her ripping rectum. The pain was blinding, 
like molten lava was being poured into her bowels. 

"GO! GO FOR IT!" Lee chanted in encouragement. Rimbaud thrust again and a 
broad grin split his face as half of his immense cock sank through the 
widely-stretched orifice, into the seething, rubbery depths of her ass. 

She kicked wildly, struggling as best she could with his crushing weight on 
her back, but it was all in vain. The more she twisted and jerked, trying to 
throw him off her back, the deeper into her his cock slid until finally she 
could feel the crisp scratchy hairs of his pubis tickling her cunt and 
buttocks. 

She stopped struggling then, but it was far too late. Only an inch or so of 
Rimbaud's big cock remained outside of her rectum. The grip of her horribly 
distended pore was so tight that it shut off the flow of blood from tip to 
root of his cock. On the outside of her body, his veins bulged ominously, 
like bright blue soda straws, and inside her rectum, the remainder of his 
cock seemed to swell outward, to fill her no longer virginal channel until 
the pain was unbearable. 

"NO MORE!!! NO MORE!!!" she screamed, her face a mask of anguish. 

Rimbaud shut his eyes and pushed, sliding the last impossibly thick inch of 
his rock hard man meat into her shuddering bowels. For a moment, Darlene was 
sure she was going to faint. The pressure on her innards was devastating! 
She could feel his hairy testicles nuzzling obscenely into the open slit of 
her cunt, could feel each and every pulse of his deeply embedded cock, each 
throb that threatened to split her wide open, from ass to belly button like 
a broken watermelon. Then she knew that she wasn't going to faint, that it 
wasn't going to be that easy. She lay quite still to ease the pain of the 
sadistic and unnatural invasion of her ravaged rectum. 

"How is it?! How is it?!!" Tucker croaked. 

Rimbaud looked at him through pleasure-slitted eyes and said, "TIGHT." The 
colonel gaped at the root of Rimbaud's big cock, at the way her anus was 
tightly gripping it. He dropped his own penis, then picked it up, pumping 
it, dropping it. He fidgeted like that for a full minute, so excited that he 
didn't know what he wanted to do. Then he spoke up. "Son," he said, putting 
his hand on the black-haired man's shoulder, "I'd sure like to rip me off a 
piece of that pussy if you're not going to be using it." 

Rimbaud laughed. "Why the hell not?!" he said. Then he leaned way over 
Darlene's trembling back and hissed into the soft nape of her neck. "You 
wouldn't mind, would you?" Darlene was in too much agony to respond, not 
that he would have paid any attention to her desires anyway. Not only did 
she have to endure the cruel anal skewering, but the man directly in front 
of her. Tucker, was feverishly groping in under her arms, clutching at, 
mauling her soft breasts, his fingers plucking and twisting at the stiffened 
nipple buds, and the cum from his engorged cock was dripping down along the 
underside of the curving shaft, dribbling down over her arms and shoulders 
like sticky, warm rain. 

"She doesn't mind," the colonel said, answering for her. "Now turn her over 
and let me get in before I shoot off all over myself!" 

Rimbaud laughed again, then straightened up, slipping his arms about her 
waist, locking them together and lifting. "UHHHHHH!!!" she wailed, her arms 
and legs flailing helplessly as the powerful man jerked her up like she was 
nothing more than a tiny doll. He lifted her up from the bed, holding her 
back tight to his stomach with the strength of his arms. When the full 
weight of her body sank down, it call came down on the deeply spearing shaft 
of his cock, on the already horribly stretched ring of her anus. Her eyes 
bulged from their sockets as her own body weight drove the monstrous 
instrument even deeper into her ass. 

"Son of a bitch! Would you look at that!" Lee gasped. There was, indeed, 
plenty to look at. The searing pain between her buttocks had caused Darlene 
to extend her legs out straight from her body, stiffly, straining against 
the agony. Between her quivering thighs, her open, pink pussy could be seen 
under the gooey thatch of her pubic hair, and beneath it, bulging obscenely, 
was the sperm-bloated bag of Rimbaud's scrotum. 

The colonel immediately scooted in between her out-flung legs, bending his 
cock down and trying to fit its bulging head to her wetly parted slit. 

Darlene could feel him fumbling down there and she tried to close her legs, 
but his torso was in the way and she could do nothing to stop him. 

"UNNNF!" the colonel grunted impatiently, snapping his hips and shoving with 
his fist, trying to guide the knobby head of his stiff spear up into her 
moist cavern. "NO MORE! NO MORE, FOR GOD'S SAKE!" Darlene sobbed, her knees 
clinging tightly to the older man's suntanned, hairless sides. Even as she 
spoke the words, she knew that nobody wasn't listening. 

"Shit!" Colonel Drake snarled. "This isn't going to work, son. I can't get 
the right angle. You've got to raise her cunt up a bit. Here, I'll help." 

With that, the colonel took hold of Darlene's hips and, grunting from the 
effort, lifted in time with Rimbaud. "UHHH!!!" the redhead wailed, her face 
contorting with agony as the huge penis was wrenched halfway out of her 
aching rectum. Worse than the staggering friction was the fact that her poor 
little anus thought the whole thing was going to slide out and, accordingly, 
began to squeeze in earnest. It squeezed about the middle of the monstrous 
rod and searing waves of pain shot up her spine. 

"That's much better," the colonel said, fumbling in under her buttocks for 
the neck of his cock. "Excuse me, son," he said, as he gingerly pushed 
Rimbaud's hot, hairy scrotum out of his way. 

"I CAN'T! I CAN'T!" Darlene wailed, kicking her feet frantically. 

The colonel guided the wetly gleaming head of his cock between her parted 
labia and thrust, sending the enormous rod burrowing up into her moist cunt. 
"YEEEM!" she screamed, her back arching, arms flailing as the colonel's cock 
joined Rimbaud's deep in her body. The pressure on her loins was impossible. 
Either one of those cocks, by itself, would've hurt her, but the two of 
them, together, buried in her crotch, lying belly to belly with only the 
thin membrane that separated cunt and ass keeping them apart, enough to 
crack her pelvis! 

"OH, SHIT! SHIT! IS SHE EVER TIGHT!" the colonel groaned, his face flushing 
red under the deep tan. He moved his hips a little, rubbing his testicles 
against Rimbaud's, feeling the pulsing hardness of the other man's cock 
right through Darlene's ass! "SHIT, AND I CAN FEEL YOUR DICK!" 

Rimbaud didn't answer. He knew all about sandwiching a woman. He knew that 
there was only so much space inside a woman's body, and that when two cocks 
fucked into her, it got a hell of a lot tighter for all concerned. 

The colonel, incited from his lengthy masturbation, from his watching the 
anal entry, began to fuck wildly into Darlene's slippery wet cunt, his hips 
snapping as he tried to raise and lower her whole body on his jutting staff. 

For a moment, the black-haired man didn't move at all. He didn't have to. He 
was getting his cock stroked, massaged right through the wall of her rectum 
by the colonel's thrusting penis. Its hard underside was sliding salaciously 
against his erect cock, teasing ripples of pleasure from its swollen tip. 

"Come on! Give us a hand!" the colonel puffed. "Teamwork! This calls for 
teamwork, son!" Rimbaud reached down and gripped the woman's firm white 
buttocks, too, then started lifting in time with the older man, raising and 
lowering her crotch on the hot, hard poles of their skewering cocks. 

"NO! NOOO!!" she shrilled as the twin lances savagely penetrated into her 
defenseless crotch. She was being used callously, like some kind of adult 
toy. Soon, the two men were thrusting as they raised and lowered her, 
beating out a reciprocating rhythm as they shafted their steely erections 
into cunt and bowels, buffeting her back and forth between them like she was 
a sack of foam rubber. 

Tucker and Maxwell watched in awe as the two gleaming rods of lust-thickened 
flesh plunged deep into her jerking, quivering loins. They could see the 
pinkly clasping edges of her red-bearded pussy drawing back with the 
colonel's cock on the outstroke, only to be stuffed back inside as he 
plunged it home again. They could see the same thing happening between her 
obscenely splayed buttocks, the distended ring of her pore, no longer pale 
and pink but rubbed a bright, angry red. puckering out lewdly as Rimbaud 
hunched up into it. 

The scene was so arousing to the men that neither of them could bear it. 
They both jumped to their feet on the bed and moved in as close as they 
could on either side of the two kneeling men and the squealing, sobbing 
woman. 

"MAN, OH, MAN!!" Tucker grasped, thrusting his pelvis forward, his hand 
wrapped firmly around the shaft of his hard cock. He insinuated himself as 
close to the moaning woman as he could, poking his stiff penis toward the 
side of her face as he masturbated. 

Maxwell did the same from the other side, his hand flying in a blur over his 
hugely erect organ. Darlene could feel the two new cocks touching her, 
brushing her face, splashing it with hot and sticky pre-cum. She tried to 
avert her face, but when she turned it to one side, she immediately got a 
wet, hard cockhead right in the mouth. Gritting her teeth, she began to weep 
as the two jabbing cocks resumed their painting of her cheeks and temples, 
as the two hard organs kept spearing savagely up into her plundered loins. 

Rimbaud and the colonel worked faster and faster, building up the friction 
heat in her crotch for each other until both cunt and ass were scalding hot, 
until they gasped with ecstasy each time they thrust into their respective 
passages. 

Then, suddenly, Darlene jerked violently between them, her head snapping 
back against Rimbaud's chest, her eyes opening wide. A flicker of something 
that was not pain had shot through her tortured crotch, sizzling over her 
nerve ends like wild fire. 

"What the fuck?!!" Maxwell gasped, gaping at the expression on her face. An 
astonishing change had suddenly come over the beautiful redhead. In her 
captivity, in her utter helplessness, she had allowed herself to relax, to 
accept what was happening to her. In that instant, wild twinges of reckless 
desire surged through her body, twinges that could only be answered by 
fucking, by sucking, by climax. The shrill shrieks of agony she had been 
emitting stopped and were replaced by low, mewling moans, by soft pleading. 
The very perversity of the situation had blown away all her defenses and she 
was left suddenly free, totally free to exult in the shameful rape of her 
body. 

"Would you believe that?!!!" Tucker moaned, trying his damnedest to stick 
his cock in her ear. 

As the two men stared, her svelte, round hips began to move, to jerk forward 
and back as they were raised and lowered, so that her pussy thrust out to 
gobble all of the colonel's long cock, so that her rectum sucked in the 
ass-splitting shaft of Rimbaud's penis. 

The colonel gaped over Darlene's shoulder in amazement, gaped at Rimbaud, 
but the black-haired man was not surprised, or if he was he didn't show it. 
He stopped flipping his hips and let Darlene do all that work while he 
concentrated on lifting and lowering her faster. The colonel quickly picked 
up the idea, and in seconds they were bobbing her up and down like a jack in 
the box, making her breasts jiggle left and right, making her loins take a 
horrible beating. 

A beating was just what the wantonly aroused redhead wanted! Her buttocks 
twisted and turned in wild, gyrating circles as she was brutally lifted, 
then dropped. 

"OOOH! OOOHHH! YESSS!" she panted, her face twisted up in a grimace of 
pleasure. "MORE! MORE!! HARDER! HARDER!!" The two men fucking her went wild. 
Her excitement was like some contagious fever that swept them up and away. 
Their hips began thrusting again, their cocks pistoning in and out of her 
seething crotch with ever-increasing fury. In seconds, the trio was covered 
with sweat, their bodies jerking together so violently that the bed creaked 
and squealed under them. 

The harder fucking only drove Darlene to greater abandon. She reached out 
and grabbed hold of the two luridly jutting penises that were poking at her 
face. 

"Man!" Tucker moaned in delight as she turned her head, as she stuffed the 
bulbous end of his cock deep into her mouth and gave it a quick but powerful 
suck. 

She crooned excitedly at the taste of his semen, then jerked the slobbery 
head from her lips. Darlene turned her face in the other direction and 
shoved Maxwell's even bigger bulb into her throat. Her head was reeling from 
the smell and flavor of cum, and it was oozing over her lips each time she 
shifted cocks, working back and forth, back and forth between Tucker and 
Maxwell like a blow job machine. 

The two men got so excited that they started humping into the grip of her 
hands, into her warm, wet mouth, humping mindlessly as fast as they could. 

The sounds and smells in the confined space was staggering, like a covey of 
minks rutting shamelessly in some dank, underground den, the obscene suck 
and slap of their sweat misted bodies, the rank odor of horny humans in 
heat, of womanly musk and male sperm only adding to and building their 
mounting crescendo of wildly wanton abandon. 

Then Darlene began to shudder, to tremble over the whole length of her body. 
She could no longer control her movements. They became jerky, spastic, as 
her muscles contracted, as joy, impossible joy, swept over her. 

"YEEEEEEM!" she wailed, cunt and anus convulsing, her fingers squeezing the 
hard cocks in her hands. "YEEEEEEM! EEEYYYEEE! DON'T STOP!!! PLEASE, KEEP 
ON! KEEP ON FUCKING ME! FUCK ME!!! FUCK MEM!" 

The violent seizures that racked her loins caught up Rimbaud and the 
colonel's cock in a veritable maelstrom of sensation. The powerful 
squeezings, the rippling spasms, teased the orgasms from their aching cocks. 
Rimbaud's bloated tool flexed against the rubbery grip of her rectum and his 
semen fountained up into her seething pipe, gushing over the smooth walls. 
The colonel tensed, then sighed with relief as his climax blossomed, as joy 
raced down his erection, as hot, spurting cum shot up it, up and out of the 
throbbing head, jetting deep into the back of her womb. 

Darlene jerked, her body reacting violently to the boiling surges of sperm 
that were gushing up in her bowels and pussy. The feel of all that cum 
sloshing around in her loins only made her orgasm more intense, made it 
stretch on and on until she was sobbing, weeping with pleasure. In her 
wanton state of mind, she pulled hard on both the long cocks in her hands, 
pulled them so close together that she actually mashed the gleaming bulbs 
together, mashed them face to face. 

"YOW!" Tucker croaked, his face turning beet red. 

Maxwell just moaned and tried to continue his humping, pushing the head of 
his spirited cock hard against Tucker's. 

Darlene dropped her open mouth down on the juncture of the two cockheads and 
began to suck on them both, swirling her tongue around, under, over them 
wildly. The hot licking pushed the two men to the brink. They resumed their 
hunching, only kept their cocks mashed together, so that they slid back and 
forth through her sucking, hungry mouth. 

"WOW!" Tucker gasped as orgasm hit him. His penis gushed thick white cum, 
spurting it not only into her mouth, but over Maxwell's cock as well. The 
feel of Tucker's cum, hot and sticky, shooting over his stiff prick put 
Maxwell over, too. Both men ejaculated all over the place, their cum jetting 
up at all angles from the tightly joined faces of their cocks. Darlene was 
right there, though, to lick and suck up the gobs as they fell. And when the 
cum stopped squirting and began merely oozing, she wrapped her mouth tightly 
around the joining point and drank every drop. 

Finally, all the spurting stopped and the men slipped away, to collapse in a 
heap on the big bed. Darlene slumped over, too, and as she did, the cock up 
her ass gave a great throb and slipped out. 

For a long time, no one spoke. There was only the sound of exhausted 
breathing, of soft mewling. Then the colonel drew back his hips and pulled 
his penis from her juicy cunt. 

"Mighty fine," he said, with relish. "That was mighty fine, indeed!" 

"It was fucking fantastic!" Tucker said. 

"Hey, Rimbaud," Maxwell said. "Weren't you supposed to give the lady some 
kind of answer about her sons?" 

"Yeah, let's hear your rating of her on a scale of one to ten," Lee said. 

The black-haired man smiled, then reached down to rub her sperm-moistened 
breasts. 

Darlene moaned as he smeared the vicious fluid over her nipples, then teased 
the soft rings up into full, jutting erection. 

"Come on! How does she compare with that Barkley woman?" Lee asked. 

"Very favorable," Rimbaud answered. As she lay there, submitting to the lewd 
fondling, Darlene realized that all of it, the threat of expulsion, the 
offer of the guest house for a one-night stay, was part of a game these men 
had played many times before. They tricked unsuspecting young mothers into 
allowing them all sorts of perverted liberties by making them think that it 
was either give in or get a black mark on their children's permanent 
records. 

"Can't you be more exact than that?" the colonel said. 

"Not without further testing," Rimbaud answered, laughing at his own joke. 
Darlene shuddered as she felt the pile of men begin to move, to shift around 
her, as she felt the unmistakable stirrings, jerkings of stiffening penises 
against her back, her thighs, her cheeks. She couldn't help but wonder if 
they succeeded so completely with all the women they trapped, if they broke 
them all to their will, turning them into wanton sluts who would greedily 
accept all the hot cock that was shoved their way? 

"I'm all for more testing!" Lee said, squirming between her thighs. "Hey! 
Give me some room on the backside!" Tucker complained. Darlene felt giddy 
and weak. Fingers were splaying the wet, hair-fringed lips of her vagina, 
fingers were prodding into the semen-moistened ring of her anus, fingers 
were pushing between her lips, prying her jaws apart. Then she was being 
penetrated from all directions at once, in her ass, cunt, and mouth. She 
crooned deliriously against the long cock that surged down her throat, 
muzzling her face into the hairless, shaved bag of its scrotum. As she did 
that, over the sound of hoarse breathing, she could hear Rimbaud and the 
colonel talking softly. 

"What do you really think, son?" 

"I think we've got a real live one here. I think we ought to keep her here. 
Set her up in the cottage, give her some kind of administrative job title 
that sounds good, then fuck the living shit out of her every night of the 
week!" 

Darlene whimpered as the smooth-skinned prick moved faster through her 
sucking lips, as cocks fucked ruthlessly in and out of cunt and anus. There 
was to be no end to her degradation, no end to the abuse. They would keep 
her there and fuck her again and again, chain her to the bed, and feed her 
hot semen by the cup! Just before she blacked out, as the bed began to 
plummet downward into the darkness, she realized that nothing could make her 
happier. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

"Mother, are you all right?" Tommy asked, looking at her exhausted features 
with concern. 

Darlene gave her son a smile. It was the morning after the big gang bang and 
she had managed to obtain a few moments alone with her sons in a far corner 
of the grounds. 

"Really, mother," Chuck said, "you don't look good." 

"I'm fine, just fine," she said, but even as she spoke she knew that it 
wasn't true. She felt battered, torn, horribly sore inside and out. 

"What's going to happen to us?" Tommy said. 

"Are they still going to kick us out of here?" Chuck asked. Darlene paused. 
She hadn't intended to. She'd thought it was going to be very easy to tell 
her boys that everything was straightened out, that things were going to be 
great from now on, that she was going to take a job with the academy and 
live on the grounds so they could be together, and that she'd make sure that 
they didn't get hazed anymore, but she couldn't seem to get the words out. 

"You did talk to the teachers, didn't you?" 

Chuck said. 

"Yes, I did," she told him. "I talked to them all." 

"Well, come on, mother! What did they say?" Tommy asked impatiently. She had 
planned her speech, her lies carefully, but for some reason she could not 
say them. Maybe it was because of the trusting looks the boys gave her, 
maybe it was because deep down she had doubts about the sexual rebirth she'd 
experienced at Valley View. Either way, when she spoke, she spoke the truth. 

"They said that the charges against you were made up," she said. 

Tommy and Chuck looked at each other wide-eyed. 

"They admitted that?!" Chuck gasped. "They actually told you that?!" 

"Not directly," she said. "But in so many words." 

"Why?" Chuck said. "Did they say why?" 

"What did they have against us?" Tommy asked. Darlene could feel her lower 
lips trembling, and she had to fight hard to keep from breaking down in 
front of them. It was strange, but only seconds before she had been happy, 
buoyed up, looking forward to staying at the academy, looking forward to 
serving the needs of the male faculty. Now the idea sickened her. 

"It wasn't anything personal against you," she said. "It was a game they 
play." 

"A game?!" Chuck cried. "Why those sick bastards!" 

"Sicker than you know," she said, looking down at her hands. 

"Mother? Mother, are you sure you're all right?" Tommy said. 

Darlene nodded. "The purpose of the game was to get your mother to agree to 
do things that she wouldn't ordinarily have agreed to," she said. 

"God! They didn't touch you or anything, did they?!" Tommy cried. 

She looked at him, then at Chuck. There were some parts of the story, she 
decided, that it would be better if they didn't hear. "No, I said I'm fine," 
she told him. 

"What did they make you do?" Chuck asked, suspiciously. "It was nothing 
important, believe me," she said. "Nothing of any real concern, except that 
basically it was blackmail. They knew that your father was retired Army and 
knew that I'd sacrifice a lot to keep his pride from being hurt. They wanted 
me to stay here, to work for them." 

"Stay here? That's crazy!" Tommy said. 

"I know," she said. 

"You didn't agree, did you?" Chuck asked. Darlene looked at him, trying to 
blink back her tears. "Yes, I did. Chuck," she said. "God!" he groaned. 

"I did agree yesterday," she went on, "but I've changed my mind. I was very 
upset yesterday and I made a mistake. I'm not staying and neither are you." 

"Whoopee!" Tommy cried. "Good-bye Valley View!" 

Chuck was not nearly so enthusiastic. "What about the expulsion?" he asked. 
"What about dad?" It was funny, but suddenly all sots of things were falling 
into place for Darlene. She had just realized why she'd so readily given in 
to the teachers. In a very real way, she'd been brainwashed, stripped of 
familiar surroundings, forced to relate to the world as those men wanted her 
to see it. She was no more a wanton slut than the next woman. They had 
convinced her of her enjoyment of the proceedings simply to further their 
own demented ends. If she did take pleasure from any of what had been done 
to her, it had been a kind of masochistic pleasure, engendered by some inner 
feeling of inadequacy, failure to hold her husband's love. Now she could see 
herself and her weak points in a new light; she could also see alternate 
ways out of her situation that were inconceivable before. 

"We aren't going to worry about your father anymore," she told them. 

"Not going to worry?! What does that mean?!" Tommy said. She smiled at him. 
"It means that if your father isn't around enough to take care of some of 
his responsibilities as a parent, then he's going to forfeit the right to 
any say in how you boys are raised." 

"Mother?" Chuck said, his face full of concern. 

"It's all right. Chuck," she reassured him. "I want you to think about how 
much you've seen of him in the last few years." 

"Not much," Tommy admitted. "For all intents and purposes, boys," she said, 
"your dad and I are already divorced. I'm still a young woman and I refuse 
to waste anymore of my life on that ungrateful man. I also refuse to let him 
have anymore say in how you're brought up, in where you go to school." 

"So you're going to divorce him?" Tommy said, softly. 

"As soon as I can," she said, reaching out and touching his cheek. 

Chuck took a deep breath, then let it out. "I think you're doing the right 
thing," he said, solemnly. "The right thing for all of us." 

"Thank you, darling," she said, beaming at him. "I was hoping that you'd say 
that." 


THE END
