Young, Tender and Trapped!
by Simone Suchler
(RX-463)


FOREWORD 

We often read about child abuse, and the handling of children by people who 
should never have become parents. We read how parents neglect children, 
abuse them, physically beat them, and on occasion we even read about fathers 
who prostitute seven-and eight-year-old daughters, often taking advantage of 
the girls, themselves. But what we never read about are the parents who 
abuse their children by keeping them totally ignorant. In this case, 
ignorance is not bliss, and what a girl does not know might very well hurt 
her. 

Preventing daughters from having a full and complete sex education is 
probably the most common unpunished "crime" being committed by parents, 
today. And to mention the idea of educating their children will bring a look 
of horrified anguish to the faces of these foolish, unthinking parents who 
believe their daughters are better off not knowing such "awful" things. 

As surely as not going to the doctor to check out a pain in one's own body 
might be a prelude to death by cancer, not educating a young girl about the 
whys and wherefores of her body is inviting disaster. Would parents rather 
have their daughters taught the facts of life in the school of hard knocks? 
Would they like a lecherous neighbor to explain everything? Or would they 
prefer an equally unknowing husband for their daughter who will "rape" her 
on her wedding night, turning her away from sex forever? 

This book is a perfect example of what can happen to an unknowing girl. The 
heroine is a strong girl, and because of it survives her ordeals. But other 
girls might not be as fortunate. And it is with these other girls in mind 
that this book is presented. 

* * * 

 CHAPTER ONE 

The early March evening was still nippy, and Etta knew she shouldn't be 
outside. It would shortly get very cold, and she might easily catch 
pneumonia or some such sickness. But Etta was a curious thirteen-year-old. 
She had always been curious, always wanting to know the whys and wherefores 
of everything. Ever since she'd been a little girl she had wanted to know 
why her body differed from that of her younger brother. Why did he have what 
her mother called a penis dangling from between his thighs, with a wrinkled 
sac containing pea-sized balls, while all she had was a hole? Why did her 
own breasts swell up like those of her mother, while her brother's chest 
remained flat, with nothing to get in the way when he played ball? Well 
certain things didn't have to be different, even though her mother kept 
trying to insist on making them so. To begin with, her own, dark-red, auburn 
hair was short, and not hanging down to her waist the way her mother wanted. 
In fact, her brother had longer hair than she, and his only came down to the 
nape of his neck. The poor dummy, always having to use a dryer on his hair, 
while all she needed was a towel. 

Because her parents were so strict, Etta's upbringing had totally lacked a 
sex education of any kind. Though she knew males and females were 
constructed differently, she didn't know why. But she had an idea she might 
get the answers to some of her questions if she could see what went on in 
her parents' bedroom when they locked the door. And that was why she was out 
so late. She wanted to see just what was going on in there. Every night, 
when her daddy came home from running his small business, he took her mommy, 
into the bedroom, and made her oooh and ahhhh a lot. What did he do, and how 
did he do it? 

Well tonight Etta was going to find out. Her parents' bedroom had a skylight 
which they never bothered covering because no one ever bothered going up on 
the roof. At least, no one had gone up on the roof until today, when the 
roofer came and started putting down new tiles. Now, in the evening, the 
roofer was gone for the day, but his ladder was still there because he had 
to finish tiling the roof, tomorrow. And Etta, seeing her father come home 
and guide her mother into the bedroom, decided tonight would be a good time 
to find out what was going on. 

After putting on her heavy coat, she had gone outside and had climbed the 
ladder. Now, she sat curled on top of the roof, staring through the skylight 
at the scene below. Because she had a dark coat on, with a dark hood, she 
was virtually invisible against the night sky. She could even hear what was 
going on down there. In fact, she could hear it better than when she 
listened at the door. 

Both parents were still fully dressed. Mort and Annie Garth, her parents, 
never did anything hurriedly. They liked to work their way up to everything. 

Mort, a short, barrel-chested man with dark hair, was sitting on the edge of 
the bed, looking at Annie, his plump, vivacious wife. Annie had red hair, 
just like Etta, and a round, cherubic face. Though short, she had big, 
bouncy breasts above a slightly fleshy waist, and broad, full hips. At the 
moment she was wearing a skirt and a tan sweater. Annie was sitting beside 
her husband, and her hand was rubbing his swollen rod through his pants. 
Etta could see the protrusion, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. After 
all, the only penis she had ever seen had belonged to her brother, and it 
was such a tiny, wormy thing. But what could her father have that was so 
long and rigid? 

Annie moved even closer to her husband, kissing his lips lightly, feeling 
his prick-head twitch under the caress of her fingers as her sweatered tit 
rubbed against his upper arm. She was a totally sensuous woman, and when it 
came to matters of the flesh, Mort, who still fooled around a little on the 
outside, just for variety, had to admit there was no woman quite like his 
own wife. 

"Mmmmmmm!" Annie was saying. "Just thinking about what you're going to do 
between my legs has me all shivery." 

She pressed her body closer to his, gripping his throbbing penis all the 
more tightly with her fingers, fondling it with such strength, Mort thought 
it would tear through his pants. Her lips parted, and her tongue leaped out 
and stabbed into his mouth. Up above, Etta watched, wondering why her mother 
was using her tongue. Was that the right way for people to kiss? 

Mort's fingers were busy, rolling up his wife's sweater, revealing the milky 
whiteness of her full-fleshed waist, underneath. He was filled with the 
confidence of the past, knowing what he was going to do. Yet it seemed so 
unreal, seeing this woman, the one he'd married, the most desirable female 
he had ever known, stripping down so he could shortly climb onto her and 
bury his heavy prick into her womanly center. It never ceased to amaze him 
that she was his. God! To think his aching cock would shortly be surging 
into her belly. 

He felt a renewed palpitation of blood as it made the pulses in his temple 
pound, seeing her lift her arms over her head, pulling the sweater up and 
away from her full, pendant, swollen breasts, leaving them free to dangle in 
front of his eyes as if suspended from her chest by elastic bands. The huge, 
light pink aureole glistened like beacons before his eyes, and the bright 
pink nipples in their centers looked like flashing pinpoints of bursting 
light, inviting his mouth to cover them as they pointed themselves directly 
at him. 

"Well, hi again," she smiled, pulling the sweater off her head. "Like what 
you see?" she asked, smugly, noticing his eyes were locked on her jiggling 
breasts. 

Mort found it difficult to respond, and wisely kept his mouth shut. But his 
large, round eyes continued to stare. 

Etta noticed the fascination her mother's body held for her father, and 
wondered why. Heck! Her daddy never even bothered to look at her own body. 
He made sure she walked around the house all covered up all the time. Heck! 
But he sure was making a big thing out of looking at her mother's body, and 
she, Etta, knew she had a much better build. Her breasts were not as large 
as her mother's, but they were pert, round, and starting to shape very 
nicely. Heck! They were a lot firmer than those jugs sported by her mother. 
And her own hips were rounding out, and there was just the faintest hint of 
down on her pelvis and under her arms. 

"Yes," Annie was saying to her husband. "I can tell you like what you see." 
And her eyes glanced appreciatively at the bulge in his pants. She walked 
over to a dressing table bench across from where he was sitting on the bed, 
then half-turned toward him, bending over so he could see the way her 
breasts dangled as she put her folded sweater on the bench. She was behaving 
almost as if no one else was in the room with her, and she was free to do 
with herself as she pleased. Her reactions made him feel as if he were an 
outsider, peeping in on a stranger undressing in the privacy of his bedroom. 
His throbbing, jerking, shuddering phallus pulsated against his pants 
creating the impression it was as thick as his forearm as his eyes followed 
her sensuous movements, watching the erotic way she was stripping. Mort 
licked his dry lips in anticipation of what was to come. He watched her 
slowly turn away from him and peel down the zipper on the side of her skirt, 
allowing him to see another tantalizing white stripe of flesh on her nicely 
rounded hip. And as the skirt opened and fell, he saw the bare, graceful 
slope of her body along the front of her stomach into the indenture between 
her thighs, where curling pubic hair hid the swell of her waiting cuntlips. 
She turned toward him and raised her breasts, cupping them and showing them 
to him as she lifted them. It was as if she were admiring her own 
voluptuousness, and now invited him to join in the admiration. Her eyes 
closed as her fingers brushed her nipples, building heated passion inside 
her. And what she did sent thrilling tingles of shuddering sensation through 
him, heightening his arousal. Flames of lust spiraled through his loins. The 
mere sight of her nakedness was all the aphrodisiac he needed. Looking at 
her made him feel as if he was one huge, monstrous cock, throbbing and 
pulsating, anxious to be buried inside the soft, tender body of this woman 
now lewdly exposing her wanton, naked self to him. 

Her hands wandered up and down over her torso as she sat, peeling off her 
stockings at a slow, agonizing pace. Her slender fingers rolled down the 
left stocking first, running it over her calves, then sliding it off her 
heel and then her toes. She did the same with the other stocking, then 
stood, turned, and bent over so he could see the skin stretch across her 
full, firm-fleshed buttocks. She wiggled from side to side, rubbing her 
hands along one ankle, then the other, as if massaging them, and all the 
while her buttocks shimmied and shook. 

Mort's expanding cock was anxiously twitching in his pants as he stared 
hungrily at her anal crevice, and at the pink slit further back, covered by 
curls of red hair. Then he sighed as she turned, faced him, and let him see 
the richness of the red patch on her venereal mount. Her thighs were wide 
apart, and he could see the glistening pinkness of her dribbling vagina, the 
sight of her seemed to take complete control of him, hypnotizing him as it 
always did. Now he was frozen, watching her walk over to the bed, lie down, 
and gyrate her body lewdly against the covers, enjoying the control she had 
over him. Mort's lips felt very dry, and he ran his tongue over them 
repeatedly as she raised her head a few inches and peered at him between the 
twin mounds of her firmly upright mammaries, a licentious smile playing 
seductively across her white, almost innocent, beautiful face. 

Christ! Annie really knew how to turn him on. Odd that he had lucked into 
marrying someone as beautiful as she. He had always thought of himself as a 
plain man. Yet she had found him attractive, had fallen in love with him, 
and had married him. She had been a virgin, and though he fooled around 
every now and again, he was willing to swear about her own fidelity. Christ! 
He fucked her every night, except for these five nights of the month she was 
"indisposed." 

Annie raised herself up on her right elbow and beckoned to him, crooking her 
little finger at him. Like a transfixed cobra he wordlessly walked toward 
her, aching lust burning in his heart, making it pound like a bass drum. 
Each time he made love to his wife it was an entirely new experience. 
Nothing ever felt the same as any of the previous times. That was crazy, 
because those times he cheated, each time with a different woman, it always 
felt as it did with each of the other women. But Annie was always brand-new 
for him. 

Etta watched her father, wondering why he was moving so strangely. Did her 
mother give him some LSD or make him smoke pot, first? Golly! He was sure 
acting like it. He seemed stoned out of his mind, and just because he was 
looking at her mother's naked body. 

He stood against the bed, in front of her supine body, running his hungry 
eyes up and down the length of her white-fleshed nakedness, adoring the 
patch of red hair covering her mons. The bulge in his pants pulsated all the 
more quickly, now. Annie smiled, knowing she had him hooked. But then, she 
always had him hooked. 

"Well, hot hubby," Annie grinned. "After all these years my cunt still turns 
you on, huh?" Her green eyes seemed to be shooting sparks at him. 

"You got that right, sweet pussy," he replied, his voice thick with wanting. 
His bloodstream felt as if boiling semen was raging through it. 

"Let's get that big cock out," she told him, sitting up, reaching out to 
undo his belt and unhook the top of his pants. Her fingers deftly unzipped 
him, and the trousers fell down around his ankles. "Off with the shirt," she 
insisted. 

"Christ! That prong is strong tonight," she grinned, watching the way his 
thick cock jerked inside his Jockey shorts when she raked her painted nails 
down along his inner thighs. 

Etta couldn't believe her mother and father were using such words. She'd 
heard them in school, though she had no idea what they meant. She stared, 
watching her mother bend and pull off each of her father's shoes as he 
obligingly raised his feet, one at a time. He removed his tee shirt, and all 
he had left was his underpants. 

Annie reached out, hooked her fingers in the waistband, and slowly stripped 
the under shorts down, revealing his thick, outstanding, rampant rod. As 
always, she admired the length and thickness of her husband's cock. Her 
throaty gasp never failed to make him feel even more masculine. Though she'd 
never seen another cock, she and her friends often discussed their husbands 
and their "attributes" at mah jong meetings. And Annie knew her husband had 
the biggest schlong in town. 

"That has to be the king of cocks," she whispered, tossing his under shorts 
off to the side. 

"And you have the most exquisite female body in the world," he replied, 
never tiring of complimenting her, staring at her bouncing white breasts as 
she leaned forward and used them to surround his throbbing phallus. 

Etta stared, unable to believe her father walked around with a poker like 
that between his thighs. It was immense. She couldn't believe it was really 
his. Do other males have something of equal length? she wondered. 

Annie continued looking down at the penis she had enveloped between her 
swollen breasts. She clasped the pole between her heaving globes, with the 
tip sticking out toward her face. Her forefinger ran over the magenta head, 
then ran down to the corona and moved around the rim. Then the ball of her 
finger moved into the cleft between her tits, rubbing the topside of his 
shuddering wang, moving down to the hairy base, then back up to the 
pulsating, expanding head. Her touch sent blistering trails of fire running 
through every nerve-ending in her anxious body. 

Mort, on sudden impulse, reached forward and filled his palms with the full, 
roundness of her breasts, cupping the resilient fullness of each mammary 
before pressing them together around the shaft of his hot, throbbing cock. 
Her own hand moved lower to let him do this, sliding underneath and coming 
up so her palm was filled with his massive testicles, squeezing them and 
making him gasp with delight. He humped his cock back and forth between her 
large tits, sawing it back and forth, savoring the heated pressure of her 
breasts against it. Each forward thrust let it touch the woman's neck and 
chin, and each time it backed away, it left another clear drop of 
lubricating fluid. 

"Unnnhhh!" Annie groaned. "It feels good. It always feels good. It makes me 
so hot. I don't need any warming up. Do you want to fuck me, now?" she 
asked, her voice heavy with lust. 

"Christ! You'd better believe it," he gasped in reply. 

"Tell it to me. Let me hear the words," she insisted, moving so her full 
breasts massaged his throbbing penis, while her hand continued compressing 
around his swollen balls. 

"I want to fuck you, my love," he gasped. 

"Tell me, how do you want to fuck me?" she asked, her hot breath burning the 
flesh of his belly. 

"Hard!" he snapped. "I want to fuck you hard. I want to fuck that cunt of 
yours until my cock reaches up into your throat." 

"Christ! CHRIST!" she screamed, throwing her body back on the bed. "DO IT! 
FUCK ME! Fuck that hot prick of yours all the way into my hungry cunt," she 
ordered, drawing her knees up and then spreading them wide apart so he could 
see the sodden moisture wetting her full, rich, teeming vaginal lips. "I 
can't wait any longer. I have to have that big prick jammed all the way up 
inside me, rotating around in my sucking cunt. Screw that pole of yours into 
me." 

Etta couldn't understand what it was her mother wanted. She was asking her 
father to screw his pole into her. But into where would he screw it? He was 
in no position to spiral it into her mouth. Besides, why would he want to 
put it into her mouth? Her ears and her nostrils, and even her belly button 
were too small to contain the massive ramrod. Where would he fit it into her 
mother? 

It never occurred to Etta he might shove it into her vagina or rectum. Both 
were places of elimination as far as she was concerned. They were holes that 
let things leave her mother's body. Surely they weren't meant to take things 
in, as well. 

Whenever he was with his wife, Mort felt as if he were watching a triple 
X-rated movie. He seemed to step outside himself and watch his body, the 
actor, perform for the benefit of his mind. Chilling, delightful thrills 
roared through him as he lay down beside her and roughly pulled her against 
him, feeling her dainty, delicate feminine body crushed in the huge, almost 
gorilla-like arms with which he surrounded her. His right hand slid down to 
cup her buttocks, grabbing one, then the other, thrilling to the smoothness 
of her skin. They were as beautifully shaped, and as taut now, as when he'd 
first married her, fifteen years earlier. Her entire body was warm, soft, 
and fit comfortably against him. She raised her face to his, offering him 
her mouth, and he pressed his lips tightly against hers, shuddering as he 
felt her seeking, searching hand reach down between then-bodies and tightly 
grip the desire-hardened stiffness of his blood-bloated cock. He pressed his 
head forward and hotly returned her kiss, feeling her lips yield to the 
powerful pressure of his mouth. Then she rubbed her pubis against him, and 
he twisted her until she rolled over onto her back and he could mount her. 
All the time his mouth remained tightly cemented to hers as she parted her 
thighs very wide to take him into her. 

Annie crushed Mort solidly into her and trickled both hands over his body, 
reaching into his groin and exploring him with his fingers. His licentiously 
trembling penis was resting solidly against her inner thighs, the tip of it 
stretching to press into the tight, narrow, hair lined crevice between her 
puffy vaginal labia. Annie arched her back for the moment, lifting the two 
of them off the bed. Her hand reached down and around, coming up from under 
her buttocks, and her fingers stretched, reaching up to part her labia, 
opening them so his throbbing penile head could make better contact with her 
wet, inner flesh. It slowly began moving through soft, curling strands of 
hair, but instead of sliding into her, it moved up along her vaginal slit, 
and soon the full length of it seemed encased between her inner labia. Now 
she relaxed and let her body fall back onto the bed, keeping his stolid 
poker tightly trapped between her clutching, pressing thighs. 

Mort's hands ran between the mattress and his wife's back, letting his 
fingers trickle down her back, feeling the ridges of her spine and the 
curves in her flesh. He could feel all of her imperceptibly moving, 
responding to what he was doing to her. He made her undulate and writhe her 
body against him in a slow, tensing, excruciating rhythm. The cords in her 
thighs stretched and tautened, rippling lightly under the soft, white skin 
pressing against him. Mort was already remembering the many times they had 
clung to one another with her thighs encircling his body, drawing him even 
more deeply into her. It would happen again, now. 

"Mmmmmm!" Annie sighed. "Your wonderful cock feels so nice resting against 
my pussy," she told him, then pressed her lips tightly into contact against 
his, breathing heatedly into his mouth as their tongues once again worked 
together. She wriggled the flatness of her belly against him, trailing her 
nails across his back, leaving white streaks that would shortly turn into 
red welts. Mort shoved his hands farther beneath her, gripping the round, 
soft fullness of her wonderful asscheeks, tugging on them, making her thighs 
open even wider. 

Etta watched, fascinated, seeing her father move slowly up and down, 
pressing his solid prick deeper and deeper into Annie's hot, wide-open slit, 
sensing it become wetter and wetter with each passing moment. Her loins 
began desperately revolving until her thighs suddenly whipped out on either 
side of him, then closed tightly around him, her calves locked against his 
buttocks as she tugged him all the more tightly against him. 

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," Annie chanted, sucking his tongue as her eyes 
shut tightly, and her pelvis continued grinding beneath him. 

Mort wanted to reach down, grab his cock, and stuff it into his wife's cunt, 
but she moved even faster than he, her hands moving down between them, 
grasping his pulsating whang, and guiding the flexing head between her wet, 
hair-surrounded lips of her wantonly aroused cunt. Mort groaned while on top 
of her, feeling her quim-walls squeeze his shuddering glans as it poked into 
her, little by little. The soft, curling red hair tickled the sensitive 
flesh of his cock-staff, making it solidify into even greater hardness until 
it trembled with excruciating pressure. 

Mort could no longer restrain himself. She was teasing him too much with her 
slowness. Taking a deep breath, he slammed his hips forward, and with a 
sudden, almost unexpected, maddening thrust, sank his eager, aching cock 
into the wide, hot, gaping cavity of her seething cunt, filling her with 
flesh-splitting force. 

"Ohhhhh!" she moaned under him as he felt the warm, elastic tension of her 
vagina wetly slip over his sensitive, naked, penile flesh. His hard cock 
entered the resisting flesh of her clutching cunt feeling such tightness, he 
would have sworn she was a virgin being fucked for the first time. Her 
control over her vaginal muscles was fantastic, making her inner tunnel feel 
so tight, he thought his cock was being crushed. This was another reason why 
he revered his wife, and felt as if entering her each time was a totally new 
experience. 

Etta stared, still unable to comprehend why her mother was enjoying what her 
father was doing to her. If anything, something like that looked very, very 
painful. She could hear the gasps coming from her mother's open mouth and 
recognized them as the sounds she heard when listening outside the door. 
Etta had to admit it all looked interesting, but it didn't seem like 
something she might be overanxious to try. 

Mort's thick, long shaft was riding deeper and deeper into the tight tunnel 
of his delighted wife. Inside, her passageway clutched his throbbing cock, 
making it feel warm and tight. His cock ached and shuddered, feeling the 
tightness within slowly surrender to his thickness. Little by little her 
warm, wet, inner walls began accustoming themselves to his length and 
thickness as they always did, molding themselves to the shape of his lancing 
probe. And as he slowly began pulling back, he could feel a gradual easing 
of her inner clamping as lubrication seeped from her cuntal walls and 
smoothed the way. 

He rammed in again, and this time he hit bottom. His come-filled testicles 
slapped solidly against the full, rounded, shimmering cheeks of her ass. 
Mort felt as if his entire body was inside his cock, and all of him was 
buried in his wife's tight, crushing, seething cunt. 

Etta stared, wide-eyed, watching her parents writhe and gasp like insane 
animals. Obviously there was more to what was happening than what she could 
see. Watching them, she did feel all kinds of funny sensations starting to 
build in her. She didn't know what these feelings were, but she felt she 
would be able to understand them better if she could more clearly see what 
was happening. So she pressed her face down against the thick glass of the 
skylight, and stared. 

Annie grunted and gasped, sounding like a writhing animal under the wicked 
plunges of her fucking husband. She tried twisting to momentarily ease the 
pressure of his hugeness inside her, but her movements only made him stab 
into her with greater strength. His pelvis rammed against hers, and she knew 
there was no escape. She was shish-kebab all the way on his thrusting cock. 
He lay still above her for the moment, thrilling to the way his soaking cock 
marinated in the heavy juices in her crushing vagina, while rings of tightly 
clasping inner muscles crushed his throbbing pole. Her vaginal muscles 
gripped him so tightly, she knew if she moved at this moment she would feel 
pain. She had seduced him, as she always did, starting out trying to gain 
and keep the upper hand. But now, with his thrusting meat locked inside her, 
control of the situation seemed to pass from her to him. If he chose, he 
could hurt her, and there was nothing she could do in return. She realized 
he was feeling the age-old power of masculine domination, and she could see 
by the way his eyes glittered that he relished the feeling as he held his 
wife helpless. Her body was skewered beneath his as he flexed the throbbing 
head of his cock again and again, making her sigh and yelp. 

"Uhhhhh ... it's ... uhhhhh ... so-o-o-o bigggg!" she gasped, then gritted 
her teeth together. 

Mort ground his arching pelvis solidly into the soft, writhing flesh beneath 
him as she strained away from him, digging her heels into the mattress so 
she could lift her thighs, hoisting him up with her, as well. She continued 
moaning and sighing, feeling her body totally trapped under his, tightening 
and loosening her thigh-muscles as she slowly worked her asscheeks up and 
down, her breath panting in a rhythm which Eve's must have made when Adam 
fucked into her. Annie's mouth hung slackly open, her head flailing from 
side to side, banging against the mattress in wild, sensuous abandon. 

"Uhhhhhh!" she cried out. "It's so painfully good. It hurts, but so 
delightfully. Your finger. Push your finger in my rectum. Make me scream and 
yell for more," she gasped, her voice hoarse with licentious ravings. 

Etta stared, amazed her mother and father could do such things to one 
another. Her mother seemed to be in pain, yet she was begging for more, and 
Etta saw the way her father was willing to oblige his wife. They must be 
crazy. Who would enjoy hurting and being hurt unless they were crazy? 

Annie felt her husband's hand reach underneath, moving between her buttocks 
as his hard cock continued pushing into her tender pussy. His fingers 
stretched her asscheeks apart, using his forefinger to run up and down her 
ass crack until he found the tiny, dime-sized asshole. Annie felt oil 
seeping from her cunt, running into her anal crevice, leaking against her 
asshole. The warm, trickling moisture made her writhe all the more, as she 
felt his finger moistening its tip in the slippery fluid. Then she felt the 
point of his forefinger start probing against her rectal orifice. When he 
had it pressed properly against the hole inside the sphincter, he pressed, 
feeling the outer, rubbery ring of muscle yield as she relaxed it to the 
best of her ability. Little by little it surrendered to the pressure of his 
finger, and Annie felt the digit slowly slide in up to the first knuckle. 
She jumped up against him, hugging him, moving against him rapidly as if 
attempting to escape the penetration of his probing finger. 

"Unnnnhhhh!" she gasped. "It hurts, it hurts!" 

She felt her husband's mouth crush solidly against her lips, preventing 
moans from escaping as he thrust his finger all the deeper into her narrow 
rectum, moving in to the second knuckle, causing her to writhe even more. 

In spite of her obvious agony, Annie began screwing her ass back against his 
probing finger until her fleshy cheeks were flatly pressed against the palm 
of his hand. She felt the finger rotating slowly inside her, moving around 
and around, and little by little, her anal interior began stretching, as it 
always did. And through the nerve-endings in the thin wall separating her 
anal tube from her vaginal interior, she could feel the way the underside of 
his hardened cock rubbed against the bottom of his finger as the two seemed 
to run in and out of her together, in the same rhythm. Her asshole felt 
mercilessly widened. She followed his rhythm, parting her thighs all the 
more widely, allowing him even greater access to the interior corridors of 
her stretched body. 

Annie could feel her husband's cock still expanding and broadening within 
her body until it felt as if it were going to burst with the exquisite 
sensations her rippling channel was causing to run through his throbbing 
cock, all the way down into his twitching balls. She could feel all of him 
stiffening, as if his entire body were filled with semen, waiting to be 
jetted into her. But she knew he would wait until she had attained her own 
satisfaction. One of the advantages of being married to someone for so long 
was knowing how the other partner would react, and when the other partner 
would react. She knew Mort would be able to restrain himself just long 
enough for her to come. And she could tell from her own interior sensations 
her orgasm was close, very close. It wouldn't be long before he was shooting 
his reservoir of hot spunk into her broiling depths, and she could tell he 
wasn't too far from his own satisfaction by the way he was cramming his cock 
into her, with long, hard strokes, at the same time knifing his finger 
deeper and more solidly into her heated, absorbing rectum, thereby exciting 
her that much more. 

Annie felt herself getting closer and closer, gripping Mort all the more 
tightly between her full, rounded thighs, tightening them more and more as 
her ass bounced in time to his long hard thrusts. His tongue, lancing into 
her throat, turned her anxious moans to gurgles. 

"Unnnggghhh!" she gasped, her head falling away from his. "Fuck it into me. 
Yes, yes, yes, fuck ... fuck ... harder ... harder ... HARDER ..." she kept 
on repeating, and in between, she mumbled obscenities her daughter's 
straining ears could barely hear. Etta watched her mother's heels pound on 
her father's rump, urging him on, making him pound his prick all the more 
deeply into her aching, feeling body. 

Annie's thighs clutched Mort more and more tightly. They clung tenaciously 
to him even as his arms swept them back, raising the plane of her open pussy 
so he was fucking straight down into it, pounding his cock into her creaming 
cunt with all his might. His groin battered against hers, and his tight, 
drawn-up balls could no longer touch her body, but they continued shaking in 
their protective sac as her eyes rolled up in her head, and passion 
contorted her face as she strained toward that final, ultimate explosion. 
Flames of delight went off in her burning belly. 

"I'm going ... uhhhhh ... to come ..." she gasped, her mouth widely gaping 
like that of a guppy. "Uhhh ... yesssss ... ohhhhh ... yesssss ..." she 
sighed, her voice hissing longer and louder as she strained toward her 
orgasm. It was moving up through her upper loins, creeping toward her 
rocking pelvis. She tugged her rounded thighs back even more, until the 
entire of her pink open slit was presented to him for him to beat, pound, 
and wallop as his body wished. Her ankles locked into the small of his back 
as her seething cunt writhed in shuddering, mad abandon. 

"UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! EEEEEEYYYYYY-AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH! 
COMMMMMMIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGG ... COMMMHINNNGGG ... OHHHHH GODDDD!! GODDDD! 
COOMMMIIINNNGGG!" 

Her voice was a mixture of squeals and gasps, and her shouted words trailed 
off into incoherent sounds. First there was a mass of low, unintelligible 
sounds, and then she began screaming like a wailing banshee as Mort started 
shooting his spunk into her. The sizzling streams of sperm slammed into her 
cervix as she jumped and wailed, her voice completely drowning out the 
"YYYAAARRRGGGHHH!" her husband yelled. 

Etta stared, mesmerized. It was all so unbelievable. Her parents were 
screaming and yelling, as she'd often heard when listening at their bedroom 
door, but now, seeing why they were screaming and yelling, she felt her 
senses reel. This was all so incredible and hard to accept. Why did they do 
all this if they felt so much pain. It had to be pain, otherwise why would 
they both be screaming and yelling as they were doing. 

None of it made sense to Etta as she watched her parents writhe together, 
their eyes shut, their arms tightly clinging to one another. Her father's 
finger had slid from her mother's asshole, and the two were continuing to 
squirm against one another. Etta could see the upturned plane of her 
mother's wide-open cunt as her father continued to stab his cock down into 
it. She could also see the white, foaming substance leaking out around her 
father's penis, dribbling down her mother's asscheeks. She knew it had to be 
some kind of substance coming from her father's member, but she had no idea 
what it was, or why he was pumping it into her mother. Now the wriggling and 
writhing was no longer something agonized, but something of total bliss, and 
Etta was able to recognize the ecstasy her parents were feeling, though she 
had no idea why they had to go through so much pain to reach this wonderful 
physical state. 

Confused, she knew it was time for her to leave before her mother's eyes 
could focus and see her pressing her face against the skylight. And so she 
moved down toward the ladder, and from there, climbed down off the roof. 

Reaching the ground, she first realized how cold it was outside, and she was 
about to hurry inside when she realized a man was standing in front of her. 
He was a tall, skinny man, with almost feminine features. He had jet-black 
hair, sunken eyes, sunken cheeks, and what looked like an anal rictus for a 
mouth. 

Edgar Brummer, her neighbor, was known as Brummer the Rummer. He was mean, 
really mean, and now, Etta trembled when he asked, "And just what sights 
were you seeing, Miss Garth?" 

 CHAPTER TWO 

According to Etta's father, Edgar Brummer had lived his entire life in this 
little community. He had been born here, had gone to school here, and, at 
one time or another, had finked on all his classmates. He was as old as her 
father, approximately forty, and he was despised by everyone in town. He was 
the one who had voted against bringing large department stores into town, 
and since he had inherited leadership of the town council from his father, 
his word had virtually been law. Not that he was highly regarded, but he did 
own controlling interests in almost all the town stores, being the local 
banker. So the large department stores and shopping centers had gone to all 
the other communities, and as a result, the community in which Etta lived 
was now second-rate. 

Brummer was the kind of man who took advantage of every hold he could get on 
other people. He knew they despised him for the miserable, skinny bastard he 
was, and so he despised them, as well. He loved foreclosing mortgages, 
taking homes and businesses away, and then re-selling them at impossibly 
high rates to unsuspecting newcomers, many of whom would eventually be 
forced out, as well. The police backed him up because what he did was legal, 
but they, like everyone else, hated him. 

"Spying, Miss Garth?" Brummer smirked. "I wonder what your parents would say 
if they found out what you were doing. I know you were looking into their 
bedroom. I also have a skylight over my own bedroom, so I know that was the 
room you were looking into. And what did you see?" 

"None of your business," Etta told him. 

"Ah. I see, you're one of those fresh brats who needs to be put in her 
place. Very well, Miss Garth, let's go tell your parents what you were 
doing." 

"I'll say it isn't so," Etta snapped. "I'll tell them you're the one who's 
lying." 

"Ah, then they'll ask what you were doing outside at this time of night. And 
what will you tell them?" 

"None of your business," Etta snapped. 

"Well then, let's go and tell them, shall we?" 

He began walking toward her front door, and Etta knew he would do just that. 
Her parents would then know she was spying on them, and they would be very, 
very angry with her. She had no idea what kind of punishment they would mete 
out to her, but it wouldn't be something easy. 

"Wait!" Etta called out to him. "Wait!" 

"Ah, so you've changed your mind, eh? Well, can you think of any reason why 
I shouldn't speak to your parents?" 

"No," she whimpered, realizing she had nothing to say. 

"But suppose I refrain from talking to them. Can I expect you to do whatever 
I wish?" 

"Yes," she nodded, not knowing what was transpiring in his demented mind. 

"I'm a reasonable man, Miss Garth. Suppose you and I discuss the terms of my 
silence tomorrow afternoon, after you've finished with your classes. I want 
you to go home, take a shower, and then come to my house at precisely 
three-thirty." 

"All right," Etta nodded, mumbling. "I'll be there." 

"Excellent," he smiled. "I shall meet you there at that time." 

 CHAPTER THREE 

"I'm glad to see you're on time," Brummer said, letting Etta into his house. 

She was surprised he was still living in this small house. As the town 
banker she would have thought he'd be living in a mansion with a lot of 
servants. But he was a stingy man and didn't believe in spending a cent when 
he didn't have to. A woman came in and did his house cleaning and laundering 
once a week. He paid her the munificent sum of thirty dollars for the day's 
work, and felt he was getting off much more cheaply than if he'd had to 
"buy" a wife. 

"What do you want from me?" she asked, as he shut the door and took her 
coat, hanging it up in the nearby closet. 

"Everything," he said, matter-of-factly. 

"What do you mean?" she asked, as he ushered her past his den and living 
rooms into his private study. Once they were in there, he shut and locked 
the door. 

Etta noticed the soundproofed tile on the ceiling. Even the walls seemed to 
be made from sound-absorbing material, except for one wall which was against 
another room. 

"You watched what your parents were doing last night," he told her. 

"Yes," she finally admitted. 

"Did they enjoy it?" he wanted to know. 

"Yes," she nodded. "They seemed to like it very much, though I thought my 
mother was in pain for a while." 

"Oh, you mean facial expressions and possibly shouting?" he asked. "That 
wasn't pain, dear girl. That was ecstasy. Sheer bliss. Believe me, she 
enjoyed every bit of it." 

"How would you know?" Etta asked. "You've never spied on them." 

"True," Brummer nodded. "But your parents are no different from most of the 
people in this world. You see, I collect all kinds of things showing just 
such happenings." 

He pressed a button, and the untilled wall slid back, and a light went on in 
the next room. Brummer ushered Etta into the room, and there, on the walls, 
were all kinds of painting and photographs depicting all kinds of sexual 
scenes. The ceiling had one huge fresco on it showing a Roman orgy and all 
that went on there, including the use of little girls and boys. 

Etta was stunned by the sight of it all. Brummer had hit her with it all at 
once, suddenly letting her know her parents weren't the only people to take 
advantage of the fact that their bodies were different from one another. 

"I'm showing all this to you for a reason," Brummer told her. "I don't want 
you to think what I want from you is something other women haven't given to 
other men." 

"What?" Etta asked, suddenly beginning to understand what it was the skinny, 
repulsive man wanted from her. 

"You and I will eventually imitate almost every scene you see in this room," 
he told her. "Unless you want me to go and tell your parents how you spied 
on them, last night." 

"You can tell them whatever you'd like," Etta gasped. "Right now, there's no 
way on earth you can prove I was outside last night." 

"I was afraid of this," Brummer sighed. 

He walked over to the desk in his den, opened a drawer, and took out some 
eight by ten glossies. He handed them to Etta. The pictures, he had shot 
with infra-red film and infra-red light, clearly showed her on top of her 
roof, and then climbing down the ladder. 

"Gosh! Where'd you get these?" Etta gasped, staring at them. 

"I took them," he told her. "Photography is a hobby of mine. And I can 
easily show them to your parents at any time. The idea that you were on the 
roof at night with your face pressed against the skylight will be enough 
evidence for your parents. Now, shall I show them these pictures, or do we 
come to terms?" 

"Stop talking that way," Etta said, shivering. She could see the edge of 
craziness lighting up his eyes as he took in her young, girlish body with 
his eyes. His stare frightened her, and she went to the thermal window and 
looked out at the hedge separating his land from that of her father's. 

"Etta, I want you to do exactly as I say," Brummer insisted. "If you do, 
your parents will never see these pictures." 

"Why me?" she asked, terrified. "You could probably talk some grown-up woman 
into doing something like this for you." 

"They all despise me," Brummer snapped. "The only women I could get would be 
paid whores." 

"What are 'whores'?" Etta asked. 

"Women who fuck for a living," Brummer explained. "You know, women who do 
what your mother did with your father, only they'll do it for any man if 
there's enough money. But I don't want a whore. I don't want a woman who's 
been with other men. God only knows what kind of diseases they carry. You 
see, Etta. That's an advantage each of us has with the other. Neither of us 
can give the other a venereal disease. You'll learn all about such things, 
because I'm going to teach you." 

"But you said you've never been with ..." 

"True," he nodded. "But we'll each learn with one another. I intend keeping 
you with me as long as it pleases me, you see." 

Looking at the photos and paintings in Brummer's hidden room, Etta 
shuddered. She didn't want, to expose her body to this evil man, nor did she 
care to look at his nakedness. 

Edgar Brummer touched Etta's knee with his fingers as he stood next to her. 
Then he ran his hand up and down her girlish thigh, still covered by her red 
skirt. Etta felt tiny goose pimples suddenly jump out all over her flesh, 
and she tensed, doing her best to move away from the man. But it was no use. 
His moving fingers clutched her thigh like claws digging into the flesh of a 
helpless rabbit. She felt the pain his fingertips were causing with the 
strength he was applying. For all his being skinny, Edgar Brummer was 
deceptively strong. 

"Please," she whimpered. "Please, please, let go of me." 

But even as he spoke, his free hand touched a button on his desk, and two 
separate hidden videotape cameras started working. Brummer was a cautious 
man, and he knew the photos would be enough to gain him what he wanted this 
one time. But Etta might not like what he'd done to her, and she wouldn't 
care if he showed her parents the photos. He needed something stronger with 
which to permanently tie her to him. And once he had her naked before the 
videotape cameras, she was his for as long as her body pleased him. 

Etta shivered, knowing lust was building higher and higher in the man's 
mind. But the pictures of herself on the roof were still in her hand, and 
she knew Brummer had duplicates of these photos. She could feel his eyes 
burning through her clothing like X-rays, and as he pressed his thighs 
against her buttocks she realized he had a hard, thick extension between his 
legs. And from what she had seen the previous night, she knew he was aching 
to make it shrink by putting it into the groove between her own young 
thighs. But she was afraid, terrified. 

"I want you, Etta," he whispered. "I want you very much." 

"There has to be another way," she gasped. "Oh, please, please, tell me 
there's another way." 

"Someday soon you'll learn to love it," he told her. "Not only that, but 
you'll love me as much as you hate me now. You'll be aching to come here and 
gratify me, and be gratified by me. And one day, one day I'll refuse to have 
anything to do with you, and you'll be even sorrier than you think you feel, 
now." 

"No," Etta sobbed, tears starting to fall down her cheeks. "That will never 
happen. You're a mean man, Mr. Brummer. I could never learn to like you." 

"Like me?" he smiled, evilly. "You'll do more than like me. You'll love and 
adore me. You'll see. You'll be begging to do whatever I want, and that's 
the day I'll throw you out." 

"Throw me out now," she said. 

"Don't be ridiculous," he laughed. "You and I are going to do just what you 
saw your mother and father doing last night. We're going to do it today. 
God! I've had the hots for you ever since hair started growing on that head 
of yours, twelve years ago. I knew you'd grow up to be a beauty. But I had 
no idea just how I would be able to convince you to see things my way. Last 
night was a very fortunate accident for me." 

His arms wrapped around her waist from behind, and he pulled her close, 
burying his face in her hair. 

"NOOOOOO!" she shouted, trying to squirm free. 

He held her tightly, and she stared down at the way his hand was clutching 
her leg. A feeling of total helplessness washed through her shuddering 
torso. She felt as if she were a sapling being bent by a powerful wind, 
letting her know it would whip her to its way of doing things. 

Looking through the window, she realized it was suddenly very dark out. The 
wind was whipping up, and snow flurries were starting to come down. 

"I have to go home," she gasped. "A snowstorm is coming." 

"Good," he smiled. "That way, no one will disturb us." 

Etta pulled free and ran for the door, but found it was locked. He began 
moving toward her, and she backed away from him, slamming into the desk, 
knocking over piles of paper he had on top. 

Brummer's hands, reaching for her arms, suddenly came down on her young, 
full, growing breasts. 

"I'm glad you're so young," he told her, squeezing her nipples. "It'll give 
me a chance to break you in my way, the right way." 

"If I had to wait for a woman who would enjoy my touch right from the 
beginning, I'd die a virgin," he told her. "I'm forty years old, and I 
figure it's time for me to really do something physical. I've lucked into 
you, Etta, and eventually you're going to like what I'll do to you, no 
matter how long it takes. I'm a patient man." 

Suddenly he was picking her up, lifting all four feet nine inches of her and 
carrying her into his hidden room, and the wall closed behind him. There was 
a huge bed in there, big enough to sleep ten people. It took up two thirds 
of the room, and he was carrying her kicking, screaming, writhing body 
toward the bed. He dumped her onto it, and she sank into the old-fashioned 
down-filled mattress. Before she could move, he was on top of her. 

"Mr. Brummer, please, please, let go of me," she begged as his skinny hands 
reached out and gripped her shoulders. 

Her commanding tone of voice made her pleading words sound ridiculous to 
Brummer. Besides, he had no intention of letting her go. He was too far gone 
with sexual frustration to bother paying attention to her. He all but lay on 
top of her, pressing his slight weight against her young body, slowly 
undoing her white blouse. She struggled, but it was to no avail. He had the 
blouse open and he was pulling it off her shoulders, sliding it down her 
arms, yanking it from her body. He flung it off to the side, then reached 
around, unhooked her bra, and removed it, as well. Her lush, youthful, white 
breasts were revealed to his hungering eyes. 

Etta slid out from under him as he attempted to grab her breasts. She was up 
on her feet, against the wall, looking for some way out of this room with 
all the pictures and paintings. There was no window in this room, and the 
lighting was indirect, coming from fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling, but 
Etta could hear the wind blowing against the house, and knew the storm 
outside was as bad as the one inside her. Even as she tried avoiding 
Brummer's touch, Etta felt all hot and bothered with her naked breasts 
wobbling from side to side as she moved. There were mirrors placed 
strategically around the room, and she could see her naked breasts, with 
their jutting pink nipples and silver-dollar-sized roseate, and she realized 
she did have a nice body in spite of her youth. If her father was so aroused 
at the sight of her mother's nakedness, she could imagine how much more 
aroused Edgar Brummer was at the sight of her wobbling tits. 

Grabbing a corner of the bedcovers, Etta tugged them up to cover her bare 
breasts, and as Brummer moved closer, she snapped, "Don't you dare, Mr. 
Brummer. Don't you dare!" 

The man was angry, and she could hear him panting as he came closer. He 
reached out, grabbed one of her slender wrists, and tugged it away from her 
body with a brutal ease that made her understand how much stronger he was 
than she. Her other hand fell away, and her breasts once again bounced free 
before his sex-starved eyes. He was grunting and salivating as he stared at 
her rounded flesh-mounds. He noted how consistently pink her nipples and 
aureole looked, going perfectly with her red hair. 

He stepped forward with a bestial savagery, wrapping one of his slender arms 
around the terrified girl's narrow waist and squeezing, forcing her to bend 
back, away from him. Etta screamed out her terror, but Brummer just laughed, 
knowing no one could hear her, while only the videotape cameras could see 
the two of them. Etta pulled her head away from his as he reached out, 
trying to kiss her, and she found her head pressing against the wall. Her 
body was pinned between the skinny torso of Brummer and the soundproofed 
wall, bent as far back as she could to escape his slavering lips. Her 
harvest-moon-shaped youthful breasts bobbed up and down, naked and without 
restraint, tilted up toward Brummer's drooling mouth. Then she felt pain as 
his mouth clamped onto her left breast, his teeth sinking into her youthful 
flesh as his tongue licked her nipple, and his lips sucked her aureole. She 
felt his teeth biting cruelly into her breast, making her young, pink nipple 
swell like a bullet as he rolled the edges of his teeth around them. 

Etta was frantic and struggled with all her might, but her anguished 
writhing only seemed to excite the lust-incited Brummer that much more. He 
was grinding his narrow, skinny hips against the front of her body, pressing 
into her red skirt, wrinkling it. She could feel the hard stiffness of his 
throbbing cock and knew it had to be huge. She wondered how such a skinny 
little man could sport such an immense penis. 

She felt her head being forced farther and farther back now as his mouth 
moved up to her throat and began kissing her there. Her naked breasts tilted 
upward and pressed into his shirt as she stared at the softly lit ceiling, 
watching the animalism of the men in the paintings as they raped the women 
with them. She could feel her heaving breasts rubbing against the cloth of 
his shirt, and one nipple was still swollen and hot, wet from the drying 
saliva coating it. 

"Christ!" Brummer gasped. "I've been waiting for you for so long, Etta. I 
knew, the moment I first saw you, you would grow up to be a beautiful girl. 
I dreamed about fucking you ever since I saw you toddling on spindly legs." 

"You're sick," Etta gasped. 

"Yes," he nodded. "I'm sick. How would you be if you grew up with no 
friends? How would you feel if everyone turned away from you just because 
you were a skinny kid? I fixed them. I fixed them all. They'll all have 
cause to remember me one way or another. But you, Etta. You didn't grow up 
with me. You showed how much you despised me even while you were a little 
girl. And as a result, I was determined to get to you, too. But I didn't 
realize how much you fascinated me at the time. Now I know, and now I know I 
have to fuck you until you stop fascinating me. I have to fuck you until I 
can discard you the way I have discarded all those people whose mortgages 
I've foreclosed. You're mine, Etta. Whether or not you like it, you're 
mine." 

Etta realized he was insane with lust. She had to do something to snap him 
out of this, or he would really hurt her. 

"Mr. Brummer," she screamed, "STOP! STOP! Don't you realize nothing can 
protect you if you hurt me? I'm just a little girl." 

"A little girl," he laughed, roaring contemptuously. "With a body like this, 
how can you call yourself a little girl? Yes, I know your breasts are not 
full-grown, but they're so firm, so soft, so nicely rounded." 

Etta stood against the wall, her naked-to-the-waist body trembling as he 
stepped away from her for a moment. Her small, firm, rounded breasts bobbled 
up and down as she breathed heavily, and she knew the sight of them, moving 
as they did, seemed to be inciting him. She had to stop her breasts from 
moving. She had to stop breathing. Maybe that would do it. 

Taking a deep breath, she realized her breasts were thrust straight out 
toward him, but they were no longer hobbling up and down as she held the air 
in her lungs. Golly! He was a really crazy man. His eyes were shining with 
something, but it wasn't alcohol. Brummer wasn't a drinking man. She had to 
make him realize how much she hated all this. It wasn't as if she was his 
wife, or something like that. He was the town banker, and he was treating 
her like one of those women he had mentioned ... what did he call them? 
Whores? Yes, that was it. He was treating her like a whore, a woman who let 
men use her body for money. 

"Please ... Mr. Brummer ... please ... I won't say a word to anyone. Not to 
anyone. Just let me get dressed and get out of here. I'm your next-door 
neighbor, remember? I'm Etta Garth. Come on, Mr. Brummer, let me go ..." 

And that was as far as she got. Her speaking had started her breasts 
wobbling again. He charged for her, and she tried ducking out of the way. 
His hand reached out, caught her wrist, and when she pulled, he let go, 
letting her spin across the room and onto the bed. The breath whooshed out 
of her, and for a moment, all she could do was lie there. 

Brummer was on her in an instant. His hands were on her shoulders, and they 
began squeezing, pressing, digging into her flesh and bone. He pressed his 
left palm against her back, forcing her to remain lying face-down, while his 
right hand found the zipper on her skirt, undid it, and began pulling it 
down. He pulled hard, and if the cloth had not been so strong, he would have 
ripped her skirt as he tugged it from her belly as it lay flat against the 
bed. He managed to pull the skirt off and dropped it on the floor, then 
yanked off her shoes and socks, leaving her with only her bikini panties on. 

His hand roamed over her panty-clad asscheeks for a moment, then he 
whispered, "From now on, when you come here, come without panties." And he 
tore them from her body, throwing them off to the side, leaving her body 
totally naked. Her bare body was pinned helplessly against the huge bed, the 
rough cloth of the covers rubbing against the ultra-sensitive lengths of her 
young nipples, already enlarged from the way Brummer had manhandled them. 
She could hear him breathing heavily against her neck, and knew his 
ungovernable passion was mounting and growing even higher. She could feel 
the aching wildness in his blood as it surged into his steel-solid shaft 
that rubbed so fiercely against her through his clothing she was afraid he 
would rip her skin off. 

From where she lay on the bed, Etta looked up and could see Brummer's face 
in one of the mirrors. She stared at the way his eyes seemed glued to her 
white, sensitive, young back. His mouth was drooling as his hands wandered 
over the creamy whiteness of her tender flesh, feeling its growing fullness. 
His hands stopped at the swells of her asscheeks as his eyes wandered down 
to gaze at them. To him, they were two ripe, succulent mounds of trembling 
flesh. 

Etta heard the licentious growls of hunger coming from Brummer's throat as 
his hand reached out and tangled its fingers in her short, red hair. He 
lifted her head from the bed, making her back arch, causing her asscheeks to 
develop two tiny indentations that made them appear to shimmer even more. 
She could see the twisted smile on Brummer's face as he stared down at the 
helpless way he had her pinned to the bed. She had to push her own hands 
between her breasts and the covers to ease the scraping of her nipples 
against the cloth. 

"Owwwww!" she squealed, long and loud. "Owwww! You're ... UHHHH ... hurting 
me. Ooooooh!" 

It was a gasping cry because Etta could no longer stand the way his fingers 
tugged her hair. She had to make him release her hair. Her body pressed more 
firmly into the bed, with her breasts being crammed against the palms of her 
hands, and her nipples digging into them. 

Brummer stared down, all but totally hypnotized by the rounded mounds of her 
asscheeks. He stared at the dark seam separating them. He watched the way 
they quivered and shook as Etta thrashed around, hoping his fingers would 
ease their grip on her hair. He loved watching the way her gluteal cheeks 
tensed, then loosened, tensed, then loosened. Damn! It was really a wild 
thing to see. Christ! It was a sight he'd always wanted to enjoy, but he'd 
never had a woman before. God! He almost felt ashamed, not ever having been 
laid in all these years. Well he would make up for it. He would really make 
up for it. Etta was young meat. She was the first. He had a plan, and if he 
could win Etta to his way of thinking, his plan would work on lots of other 
teenage girls. 

Etta realized the man was insane with power. He was treating her as if she 
were some kind of slave, debasing her, making her feel all the worse for the 
way in which he was doing things. He was on the side of her, kneeling above 
her naked self, forcing his hand between her tightly clenched thighs. Little 
by little he was making them open while his other hand continued holding 
onto her flaming red hair. And when he finally had her thighs open enough, 
he began forcing his middle finger against the puffiness of her vaginal 
lips. She struggled and trembled and shook, writhing to escape the probing 
madness of his finger. And then she felt the finger roughly pressing between 
her labial slices, pulling them open, digging into the tender pink flesh, 
and she screamed, "NO, NO, NO!" 

"Yes, yes, YES," he bellowed back, and she felt his middle finger worming 
its way into her tight, unused vaginal channel. 

"Mr. Brummer, Mr. Brummer, it hurts!" she screamed. 

"Only for a moment more," he assured her. "This will be the worst part of 
it. And after this, the pain will be much less." 

Etta didn't know what he was talking about, but she did know he was hurting 
her, and she didn't want to be hurt. She struggled, trying to pull her away 
from his grasping fingers. She wriggled, trying to clamp her thighs 
together, but it was too late. His finger was roughly pushing its way into 
her. He pushed relentlessly, ramming his long, middle finger deeper and 
deeper into her tight, soggy vagina. And then she felt excruciating pain as 
the finger touched her hymen. He wasted no time, pushing deeper, working his 
finger around, literally tearing the membrane, ripping and tugging on it 
until he had shredded it, literally pulling pieces of it out of her. 

Oh, n-o-o-o-o-o!" she screamed as his finger continued working in and out of 
her sopping pussy. 

And then, just like that, his finger was out of her. She turned around on 
the bed and saw the bloodstained covers where her virginal flow had dripped 
on it. Then she looked up and saw him leering at her as his hands literally 
tore his shirt from his body, the buttons making little popping noises as 
they leaped from the material and fell to the carpet. 

Etta got to her knees, moving away from the bloodstain, crossing her arms 
over her breasts. Her red hair glistened wildly with fluorescent tones 
bouncing off, and she looked like a bawd to the hungry man. He stared at the 
way her arms crossed over her breasts, making the small, round mammaries 
seem even more voluptuous than they were. They seemed to swell into small, 
arousing balloons of delight. 

"Mr. Brummer!" Etta screamed. "I'm Etta, from next door. I'm just a young 
girl. Don't you understand?" 

She shrank away from him now, cowering into the far corner of the bed, near 
the headboard, looking around, hoping to find a way out of this room. She 
had to get out of here. He was crazy. 

Brummer threw off his shirt now, panting heavily, feeling his body soaked in 
sweat brought on by his hungering desire for this young, redheaded girl. He 
grinned at her, an evil grin as he dropped his pants, kicking them off to 
the side. He enjoyed watching the way she trembled and shook before him, as 
if he were some kind of god. He loved the way she was clamping her thighs 
together at the moment, her sparse, fuzzy red pussy hair was wedged nice and 
tight at the juncture of her cringing vagina, and her breasts were swelled 
up like inflated balloons as she attempted to hide them. He laughed aloud as 
he saw the haloes of her pink nipples rising like two tiny suns against her 
white flesh, over her protecting arms. 

"I'll scream!" she told him. "I'll scream my lungs out. You just have to 
stop it, Mr. Brummer. You have to." 

She watched him standing there, legs spread apart, thumbs hooked in the 
waistband of his under shorts, as he said, "Go on and scream your lungs out. 
Scream and scream and scream. No one will hear you. Even if there wasn't a 
windy snow storm outside, no sound can penetrate these sound-proofed walls." 

He took a step forward, then slowly lowered his under shorts. It took him a 
few seconds to get it over his throbbing erection, but when he finally did 
so, his shorts fell to his ankles and he stepped right out of them. 

"I'm glad you followed my instructions and showered before you came here," 
he told her. "You smell good. I showered, too. It wouldn't be right of me to 
stick an unwashed cock into you, would it?" 

To Etta, it seemed so huge. She knew it was neither as long nor as thick as 
her father's, yet this close, it did seem immense. It seemed so massively 
solid, so rigidly strong. 

Etta's hand flew to her mouth as she saw the full immensity of the massive 
cock. How was it possible for such a skinny man to sport such a thick 
member? It pulsated so menacingly in the soft, diffused light. Heavy veins 
moved like worms along its thick, round shaft, carrying more and more hot, 
pulsing blood to the already licentiously bloated head; a head that bulged a 
rich, ripe, plum-colored red. His spreading penile point looked like a 
hooded cobra as it shone in the indirect light with the smooth-swelling 
shaft behind it. His arcing solidity hung rigidly away from his body, 
pointing in her direction as if she was the one responsible for its 
condition. 

Etta stared at the way his hair-covered, wrinkled scrotum dangled beneath 
his thrust-out cock, resembling nothing less than a helmeted soldier about 
to do battle. She could see how ridiculous the rest of him looked, but the 
menace of his cock kept her from laughing. His ribs were pressing against 
his flesh, and she could see the outline of each one of them. Both his arms 
and his legs looked like pipe cleaner extensions. Brummer hardly looked like 
a fantastic physical specimen, but his cock was really something to behold. 
Had Etta been knowing about such things, she would have thought of it as a 
cock that wouldn't quit. But all she thought of now was the terror it was 
bringing her. And that was what Brummer wanted to do. In his youth he had 
been very sickly. He had even had to bring bananas with him to school and 
eat them in the back of the classroom, knowing his classmates were 
sniggering at him. Well no one had sniggered at him for years now. Now it 
was his turn to do the sniggering. All the pretty girls had avoided him. Now 
he had trapped a very pretty girl and, soon, with her help, he would trap 
many, many others. 

With a roar of carnal hunger, Brummer was suddenly on the bed, grabbing for 
the girl's nakedly defenseless body. She went sprawling across the pillows, 
and then he was on top of her. Had he been a heavy man, he would have 
knocked all the breath out of her. As it was, his weight caused a funny 
sensation to travel through the network of nerve-endings in his body. It 
spread from her tingling vagina into her belly, and up to her boobs. 

Etta screamed, and screamed again. And then her cries were cut off as 
Brummer's mouth clamped itself to hers, literally sucking her full, sensuous 
lips, actually bruising them as he ground his mouth as his teeth against her 
lips. His tongue snaked its way hotly into her young mouth and she fought to 
catch her breath, thinking she would choke if his tongue sank any deeper 
into her mouth. And all the while she felt the long, hot pulsations of his 
cock as it rubbed against her aching belly. 

She sobbed and cried as he forced her tender young thighs apart, wickedly 
rubbing and bruising the sensitive inner flesh of her smooth loins. He 
continued forcing her thighs apart, pushing them wider and wider until the 
muscle cords stood out like cream-colored steel cables all along her upper 
thighs. With what little strength she had left, she pulled her mouth from 
his and gasped, "Mr. Brummer, I'm just a kid! Please! Please! Don't DO this 
to me!" 

He didn't bother replying with words. Instead, he slammed his open palm 
against her cheek, and Etta felt her face rocking with numbness. She cried 
and sobbed, gasping for breath, hoping he might hit her hard enough to bring 
her unconsciousness. 

With a high-pitched squeal, he shifted his weight and seized Etta's two 
wrists, forcing them up, over her head, where he could hold them in place 
with one hand. She felt his hard cock rubbing its heated head up and down, 
moving spasmodically against the pink tenderness of her waiting vagina. Fear 
made her vaginal lips tense up. Terrified, she shut her eyes and tightly 
contracted her vaginal muscles in an effort to prevent his brutal 
penetration. He thrust forward, slowly, but insistently, applying more and 
more pressure between her juicy thighs, until the pain became unbearable. 

"No, no, NO, ohhhhhh, n-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o ..." she screamed as his thick, 
insistent cockhead suddenly plunged forward, spreading her tightened vaginal 
lips, forcing them to reluctantly part by the sheer strength of his attack. 
Brummer looked down between their nakedly joined bodies, and his exciting, 
pulsating penis remained poised, its tip halfway into her, the deep red 
color of the glans becoming stronger and stronger as it throbbed with the 
blood forcing its way into it. Brummer smiled, seeing the way his swollen 
prick-head was covered by her wide-stretched, hair-lined cuntlips. Even now, 
he could feel the reluctance in the parting of her cuntlips as they 
pulsated, hoping to come back together. He had her virginal cunt opened, and 
nothing would stop him from nailing himself into her. 

Her complete vaginal tract was trembling with pain and fright as he lanced 
his licentiously swollen cock forward again. Her vaginal slices parted even 
more widely, folding inwardly as if bowing to the will of his spearing cock. 
He pushed harder, spreading her young labia even wider apart, forcing her 
clitoris to peer from behind the membrane hiding it. It didn't tremblingly 
peep out, but stood out stalwartly, proud, erect, stiff in its own erotic 
valley. 

Etta heard him laughing with glee, knowing he was entering her a little at a 
time. Each time he thrust his hips forward, Etta cried out in agony, as his 
penetrating prick, like a redwood trunk, slowly stretched her all the more 
widely as it disappeared into the hot, clutching, seething depths of her 
cuntal interior. 

Etta felt her shuddering loins being spread even wider apart, and she cried 
out in distress, whimpering, wondering how her mother could ever enjoy such 
attacks by her father. The strong stabs of his solid, attacking cock as it 
moved further and further into her tormented cunt, forced her trembling 
buttocks to squeeze together as her legs jerked up in the air. 

"Once more," he told her, "and I'll be all the way in." 

Etta realized further pleading would be totally useless. Maybe if she did 
what her mother had done it might ease the pain. She wrapped her thighs 
around his buttocks, and as he pushed, she also thrust forward, feeling him 
fill her taut cunt with his swollen cock. She could feel his dangling balls 
slap her asscheeks, and suddenly she felt something other than the pain. Not 
that the pain had gone. It was still there, but in addition to the pain 
there was an indefinable something which she couldn't describe. 

"Now," he told her, "the fun really begins." 

He started ramming his meat in and out of her with strength belying his 
frail appearance, brutally and wantonly fucking in an out of her tight 
little ravaged cunt, pounding heedlessly away, intent on enjoying his own 
first vagina. His wetly glistening cock slammed in and out, in and out. 

Her neighbor's pronging was insane and merciless, and his hands were running 
all over her young, teenage body as he pinched and massaged her quivering 
nipples. His fingers dug so deeply into her breasts, he was leaving all 
kinds of red marks. And Etta simply lay there, letting him have his way with 
her. There was no way she could halt this rape, and though her mind was on 
the edge of an hysterical breakdown, she kept herself from going over by 
consoling her mind with the thought that this, too, would end. Golly! Once 
this was over she was getting out of here and never coming back again, no 
matter what he told her parents. Each savage thrust was hurting the ravaged 
little ex-virgin a little less, pounding into her shamed body as he rammed 
and crammed his massive, throbbing solidity into her again and again. She 
could feel the rubbery head of his hard cock banging into her cervix, making 
her wince with each forward thrust. He was so avid in the way he was fucking 
her, each thrust was sending her body partially across the bed, moving her 
an inch at a time. Soon he had her head against the bed's headboard, and 
each forward plunge made her head slam against the wood. 

Etta lay there, neither struggling nor pleading at this point. She knew 
voiced protests were utterly futile. This evil man was doing something to 
her she didn't want him to do, and he was glorying in it. She felt his arms 
digging into her flesh like wicked talons as he spasmed forward with his 
tongue hanging out. 

Thrills were slowly, very slowly starting to build in Etta's body. At first 
she was barely conscious of the shattering sensations working through her 
nervous system. Then, after awhile, when the pain had all but totally faded 
away, she became aware of the powerful flashes building in her. Now, without 
meaning to, she began raising and lowering her body, responding to his 
thrusts. 

"Yes, that's it," Brummer told her. "Keep moving like that. Again, again, 
again, yes, yes, thatta girl. Now you've got it. Fuck that body of yours up. 
You can feel it. I can tell, you can feel it." 

He pounded his long, strong dick into her with greater strokes now, and Etta 
responded wildly, feeling the insane sensations throbbing in her loins. She 
didn't know why, but she was enjoying the overpowering thrills, even though 
she hated this man. She was continuing to enjoy it, and raised her body even 
higher now. 

"Uhhhh ... yesssss ... more, more, more ... I want it ... I want it ... fuck 
me, fuck me, FUCK MEEEEEE!!!" 

She was screaming hysterically now, but it wasn't from pain. Now she could 
feel the tingling sensations she had seen building in her mother, and when 
she looked straight up at the ceiling, she realized the fresco had been 
painted into a mirror, and she could see her own body being ravished along 
with those of the other females, there. Her face had a grimace on it, much 
like the "pained" expression her mother had worn the previous evening, only 
now she realized the lines and creases were not being caused by pain or 
anguish. No, no, no, it was the reaching out for more of the thrilling 
sensations in her body that made her screw up her features as she was doing. 
It was these same sensations that caused her mother to make these faces. 

"Oh, yes!" she gasped. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Give it to me! Please, please, 
give it to me. I need it, I NEED IT!" 

"I knew you'd love it," Brummer exulted. "I just knew it! Jesus! You have 
such a great cunt. Oh, Goddddd!" 

He was gasping and groaning, increasing the power behind each stroke. His 
pelvis smacked loudly against the sucking lips of her shrieking vagina as 
his long, thick, cock rammed far up into the seething recess of her aching 
belly. Again and again he rammed his throbbing penis into her violated 
pussy. 

"I can feel it!" Etta screamed. "Oh Mr. Brummer, I can feel it ... AAAAHHHH 
... OHHHHHH! AAARRRGGGHHH! EEEYYYAAAGGGHHH!" 

She came wildly, thrashing madly on his thrusting cock like an impaled 
shark. Her cunt felt the shock of a hundred explosions as she came, then 
came again. 

"Yes, yes, YES!" he exulted. "Yes! Now me! NOW MEEEEEE!" 

He felt he was about to reach his pinnacle and grabbed her under her knees, 
shoving her widespread thighs up and back until her kneecaps touched her 
shoulders. Soon, he had her thighs so far back, her kneecaps were on either 
side of her head. Her taut, squeezing little cunt was now totally exposed to 
the thrusts of his hard cock. He ground his stiff prod as far up into her 
wetly opened vagina as it would go, building rousing groans of 
lasciviousness from his throat as her lips locked themselves tightly against 
his. Only this time Etta's arms were around his neck, holding his mouth into 
place as her tongue stabbed into his oral cave. His hands reached down and 
filled themselves with her buttocks, holding them in a death grip, and his 
aching balls could no longer stand the pain. 

Now! This had to be the moment! Now! 

"UUUUMMMMPHHHHH!" he gasped into her mouth as his body began spurting the 
heavy load of cream it had saved up for so many years. He fired blast after 
blast into her tight, squeezing pussy, and in never-ending blasts he 
continued unloading all his body had to offer. 

Etta thrilled to the heated bullets squirting into her tender body, making 
her wriggle and shudder with delightful sensations she had never realized 
could exist. Little by little she felt herself floating down from the 
orgasmic summit she had unwillingly striven to reach. Thrills and joy built 
on tingling sensations, and little by little she felt herself floating back 
to earth. 

When she was finally conscious of everything, she felt a coolness in her 
vagina, and she realized Brummer had pulled out of her. 

"Well now," he was gasping, lying beside her. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" 

"You could've been nicer about it," Etta pouted. "I mean, you could've kind 
of let me know how good it was, and you wouldn't've had to force me." 

"Dear girl, mere words cannot convey the sensations you just enjoyed," he 
told her. "Nothing I could have said would have brought you around to my way 
of thinking. I had to do it this way, the first time. In the future I think 
you'll be more agreeable." 

"What's to stop me from doing this with other boys?" she asked. 

"Only their lack of consideration," he told her, sitting up. "You see, what 
you and I did is start the possible beginnings of a baby, unless I wash you 
out. And no other boy would have ever thought to do that for you. Not that 
I'm such a nice man. But I want you available for more fucking, and 
completely unpregnant." 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

That night, Etta slept more soundly than she could recall. And when she 
awoke the next morning, there was the slightest dull throb between her 
thighs to remind her it hadn't been a dream. Yet in spite of how good she 
felt, she despised Edgar Brummer. He had caused her so much pain on top of 
fright and of fear before making her feel good, she would never forgive him. 

It was Friday, and school ended early. She knew Brummer expected her over 
and she debated whether or not to go. After all, even if she didn't go, she 
couldn't see Brummer showing the picture of herself on the ladder to her 
mother. And even if he was dumb enough to do that, it would only mean being 
permanently cut off from her. No, Brummer wasn't foolish enough to do that. 
But by the same token, such a photo wasn't strong enough to make her go 
through the tortures he had put her through the previous day. She could walk 
into his house and snap her fingers at him and tell him they'd fuck if it 
pleased her. 

The sun that did come out soon melted all the snow, and after going home, 
she took another shower, then decided she would go and talk to be 
unpleasant. 

Etta smiled, knowing she was the one who could be unpleasant. But this time 
she decided to wait until after he'd satisfied her. He would also be 
physically weaker at that time. She was hot, very hot, and now, standing 
next to Brummer, she suddenly realized how hot. She led the way into his 
den, waited while he opened the wall leading to his secret room, then 
hurriedly undressed. 

This time there was no warm-up. No fingering of her cunt, no playing with 
her tits. She was as hot as he and anxious to feel his pole slithering into 
her. And though her cunt was just as tight as it had been the previous day, 
it was so juicy, his hot, thick cock slid right up into her. Her short, 
shapely legs tilted back at a forty-five degree angle, her knees pressing 
against her chest, pounding against the firmly swelling mounds of her 
rounded tits. 

Brummer was half on his knees and half arched off the bed with one foot on 
the floor, one knee on the bed, and his palms supporting her asscheeks as he 
rode his cock pulsatingly into the simmering depths of her frothing cunt. 
His swollen dork stretched apart her hungry vaginal lips as he flexed the 
thick head of his phallus far up into her, letting the head once again press 
against her cervix. Only this time Etta didn't cry or whimper or beg him to 
stop. This time Etta responded by bouncing her hips, making him smile as he 
tightened his own ass muscles and jerked the heated, bulging point of his 
cock as far into the sucking wetness of her cunt as he was able to go. Etta 
moaned and sighed as he made his rigidly throbbing thickness swell inside 
her. The young girl gasped in delighted pleasure as his mighty weapon probed 
her interior passage, once again exploring where, so far, only if had gone. 
Shrill gasps escaped from her lips as the man continued a powerful rotation 
of his cock inside her, making her inner cunt swell and become accustomed to 
his thickness. He pushed his pelvis tight against her wetly shining cunt 
hairs, continually grinding his cock into her simmering depths. Her 
still-trembling vaginal walls expanded until her hot, wet snatch fit around 
his swollen dork as if it had been custom-designed to contain him. 

Brummer had his videotape cameras working again. The previous night, he had 
lain in his bed and watched the taped results of the previous day, and the 
sight had built him to newer and higher flaming desires. Now the videotapes 
were more than an instrument of blackmail. They would be used to arouse him 
should he ever feel lethargic. In fact, he shortly intended letting Etta see 
herself being fucked, knowing it would arouse her all the more. 

The naked teenager's soft, white, glowing skin shone translucently, making 
her resemble a marble Galatea suddenly come to life. Her small, full, softly 
fleshed breasts were two alabaster hills capped with rosy aureole, each of 
which was centered by a rich, pink nipple. The nipples swelled and became 
even larger each time Brummer thrust his long, swollen cock far into the 
hungry, sucking scabbard between Etta's widespread thighs. Her eyes were 
shut, and her lips pulled back to reveal her white teeth. Lines distorted 
her face with bliss as she thrilled to the delicious torment of his solidly 
broad phallus pounding in and out of her tight vagina. 

Brummer still couldn't believe how he had lucked into this. Christ! All his 
life he had played the sniveling coward, stabbing people the only way he 
could, with money, making them hate him all the more. Now, when he finally 
allowed himself to commit a truly heinous crime, the girl was reveling in 
it, making him glad he'd done it, but more, making her glad, as well. 

Etta felt the man's sweaty palms running over her naked flesh again and 
again, and lusted for more of his touch. She felt his fingers lewdly skim 
across her moon shaped asscheeks. His fingers tickled her asshole, then slid 
between her hair-lined vaginal lips as they tightly clutched his thrusting 
cock. She jumped, each time he rubbed the ball of his finger against the 
outer muscle of her anus. She could tell he was about to do to her what her 
father had done to her mother. He was going to finger her asshole, and 
though she realized there might be some small initial pain, she knew the 
pleasure following would make the pain well worth feeling. She had seen the 
way her mother had writhed and wriggled when her father had plunged a 
forefinger into her rectum. Now Etta prepared her body to feel the thrust of 
Brummer's carefully manicured finger. 

Her asscheeks bounced up and down and shivered with delight as she felt him 
press the ball of his finger against her anus and thrust. Because she was 
forcing herself to relax, she felt the finger penetrate her sphincter with 
what felt like a pop! Little by little it worked its way through her tight 
nether ring, worming its way deeper and deeper into her rectum. It moved 
around, rotating, expanding the narrow rear passageway, pushing deeper and 
deeper until the entire length of finger was pressing into the channel and 
the palm of his hand lay flat against her asscheeks. 

Etta shuddered, grinding her small, girlish hips. She liked it in spite of 
the irritating way it had probed into her. Yes, she liked it a lot, and as 
he moved his finger in a corkscrewing manner, she could feel new tingles 
invading her rectal passageway as the inner nerve-endings responded to the 
pressure of his rotating manual digit. Her asshole clutched his finger as if 
it had suckers inside, clinging to it in the hope it would never leave her. 
She felt hotter now than she had the previous day, and realized, with a 
certain amount of delight, that her body was tuned to enjoy each fucking 
session even more than any previous session. There was a certain amount of 
hot bloodedness in her, inherited from both sides of her family, of which 
she was unaware at that moment. Later, she would read her family history and 
discover why she-and later her brother-always felt such heat stirring in 
their bodies. 

She felt Brummer rhythmically fuck in and out of her body with both his cock 
and his finger, stretching her moist pussy and dry asshole, pounding 
mercilessly into her, battering her wriggling body solidly against the downy 
mattress of the oversized bed. His thrusting penis distended her sweet, 
tight pussy, while his plunging finger continued ravaging her anal tunnel. 
His fingering was driving her wild with maddening internal thrills, making 
her clench her vaginal walls all the more tightly around Brummer's thrusting 
cock. 

Etta also found all this hard to believe. It might have been the least bit 
more believable had she been with almost any other man she knew. That she 
was doing this with the most despised man in the village, and loving it, 
really had her head spinning. She was beginning to understand how these 
whores Brummer had mentioned could make a living with their bodies, giving 
themselves for money. In a way, the whores had a distinct advantage over 
Etta, aside from the money aspect. They might not have had any love for the 
men fucking them, but they could respond more easily because the men were 
non-entities. Edgar Brummer was far from a non-entity. In spite of the good 
feelings he gave her, and in spite of the need she now felt for him, Etta 
still despised the man for being the cruel, harsh individual he was. Nothing 
about him had changed. He was still the same, vicious, cruel person he'd 
always been, despite the slight softening of his attitude toward her. Yes, 
Etta could fuck for him and still hate him, and so she began learning early 
in life a girl need not love a man to have him fuck her. 

Etta was enjoying every delicious second of this, her second fuck, as her 
craving body let her know just how much she needed cock. It was the most 
satisfying, delectable sensation she had ever known, her blood boiling with 
ecstasy as the long, stiff, masculine prick shoved itself deeper and deeper 
into her craving belly. This was the way she would always like it; a big, 
hard, thick cock ramming relentlessly and mercilessly into her. She had 
certain unmatured masochistic instincts, and the way Brummer was fucking her 
was bringing these instincts out. She loved lying flat on her back this way, 
responding to the thrusts of the man's hips by raising her own loins, but 
otherwise making him do all the work. How delightful to be totally naked and 
feel absolutely shameless at what this man was doing to her. 

The obscene young girl opened her pretty green eyes and stared at the blank 
face of the man hovering over her. She lifted her head a bit and stared down 
between their bodies, holding her thighs back near her ears with her hands. 
She stared down between her hobbling breasts and saw the long, hard shaft of 
his thrusting cock, glistening with her vaginal secretions, as it tightly 
slid in and out of her upturned pussy. A shivering chill charged along her 
spine each time he plunged his hips forward, slamming the thick, gleaming 
pole into the heated humidity of her tightly clutching vagina. His cock 
seemed to stand out more and more as the rest of him became a blur, and this 
made the sensations all the more enjoyable. She needed his cock, and not 
being able to see his face made it that much better, because she no longer 
associated the hard cock she needed with the evil face of the man fucking 
her. This made her realize how easily she could do this with almost any man, 
provided she remembered to take the proper precautions afterward, so she 
wouldn't have a baby start growing inside her. Brummer had shown her the 
right way to douche, making much of the way she raised her hips and inserted 
the bone attached to the douche bag. Her mother had a similar bag at home, 
and Etta was sure she could use it and put it away without anyone becoming 
the wiser. 

Fevered rapture soon reached a mind-blistering peak. 

"YES! YES! YES!" she screamed. "Don't stop! Just keep doing it." 

"Doing ... uhhhhh ... what?" Brummer asked, teasing her as he kept stroking 
into her. 

With no embarrassment whatsoever, Etta said, "Fuck me ... fuck me ... KEEP 
FUCKING MEEEEE ..." 

She grunted her words into the softly lit room, rotating her bare buttocks 
against his thrusting finger all the faster, trying to keep pace with the 
rapid way his monstrous pole continued sinking into her seething depths, 
lancing into her as if she were some hunk of great meat meant for skewering. 
She felt the long, hard cock pound deeper and deeper into her trembling 
belly as it pounded with a wild, frenetic tempo. 

He was stroking into her so quickly, it was impossible for Etta to keep pace 
with him. And she could tell Brummer was ready to come, just as she could 
feel her own sensations rising. It felt so good, so good. 

Brummer realized the girl could sense the urgency in him. One look at her 
pure, innocent face, lustfully writhing under him, and he could tell she was 
as close to satisfaction as he. Etta felt him start fast, ramming thrusts, 
burying his pounding, swollen cock right up to the balls with every one of 
his lancing charges. Faster and faster his cock pounded, ramming far up into 
her gasping, heated little belly, and all his muscles tensed as perspiration 
dripped from his chest and thighs. He fucked even faster, not able to feel 
how fast he was going as his muscles seemed to move automatically. 

"Uhhhhh ... no, no, no, not yet, don't ... uhhhhh ... come yet ..." Etta 
begged. "Hold off ... just a bit longerrrr ..." she cried, realizing all the 
pleading in the world wasn't going to stop this man from expending his load 
into her. 

Brummer's lips opened, and loud, panting gasps issued forth from his mouth, 
and then he took a deep breath, and groaned out a loud, 
"UUUNNNGGGHHHUUUGGGHHH!" 

His sperm-bloated balls anguishedly pumped blast after blast of hot 
come-juice deep into the young girl's quivering cunt. The redheaded Etta 
ground her frantically wriggling loins tightly against his pubis hoping the 
squeezing of her inner lips could cut off the flow of semen, but the tighter 
she squeezed, the more she milked him. Her cunt was eager to drink his 
flowing sap, and pulled on it until she felt him starting to shrink. And 
then, at the last second, her own peak arrived, and she screamed, 
"YIIIIIEEEAAAGGGHHH!" as she pulled every drop of his bubbling seed into her 
passion-enlarged cunt, feeling the heated pools slosh around inside her. 

Brummer, feeling his soaked cock shrink until it oozed out of the girl's 
tight cunt, eased himself off the still writhing teenager as the lightly 
bearded pink labia of her vagina reluctantly let go of their escaping prize. 
A thin line of white stickiness momentarily dangled from the tip of his 
retreating phallic worm before it fell onto her white, smooth thigh. 

Etta lay quietly looking at Brummer as he got to his feet and opened the 
wall leading to his den. A carafe of cold water sat on his desk, and he 
poured two glasses, bringing one to Etta, then drinking the other, himself. 

"Should I douche right now?" she asked. 

"You can wait up to two hours, but no longer," he told her. "And I think I 
have more use for you, so just relax." 

"Still acting like a big boss, huh," Etta said. "Well it so happens, Mr. 
Smarty Brummer, from now on, if we do anything, it's because I say so, not 
you. Gee, you must think that picture you have of me on the roof scares me. 
Well it doesn't scare me anymore, because if you show it to my folks, you 
know you won't have me to fuck anymore. So from now on, I'm the one who says 
what we'll do and when we do it. And if I want to go douche right now, I'll 
go douche. So there." 

"Etta, Etta, will you never learn?" Brummer asked. "Do you think I will ever 
let you get the upper hand? You're just a very young teenage girl, while I'm 
a man, forty years old, and I know more tricks than a pretty thing like 
yourself will ever learn. So you just relax on that bed and I'll show you 
why you're going to continue doing exactly as I say." 

Curious, Etta did as he instructed, especially since he was threatening no 
physical violence. She felt she could wait to see just how he intended 
regaining control over her. 

Brummer pressed a button, and a screen came down from the ceiling at the far 
end of the room. He pressed another button and a wall panel slid back. Then 
he pressed a third button and the room lights went out. The dark only lasted 
for a moment as Brummer pressed a last button, and the videotape playback 
machine had its image reflected onto the large screen. And what Etta saw 
shocked her. 

Brummer had spent part of the night re-recording the two tapes onto a single 
tape, intercutting so Etta could see herself being fucked from two different 
angles. She also noted Brummer had somehow managed to blur out his face, so 
it was impossible to tell who was fucking her, but her own face was very 
clear. 

"I have stills of these tapes," his voice whispered, and she realized he was 
close to her, on the bed. "I could easily send some of these, anonymously of 
course, to your parents. And I could send one or two to the local newspaper, 
and I could even have some photos scattered in that school of yours. Etta, 
my sweet young love, don't try to get cute with me. I have you by your short 
and curlies, as lovely as they are." 

Etta lay quietly, seething inside, realizing he had trapped her again. What 
was more, she was certain he had filmed or taped their most recent escapade, 
and would probably continue doing so. 

"Just enjoy the movie as I did last night," he told her. "It's just the 
thing to get us both back in the mood for more." 

It angered Etta to realize he was right, once again. The sight of herself 
being blatantly fucked was very arousing. She could see Brummer stretched 
out beside her, his cock lying uselessly against his widespread thighs. Her 
full, small, rounded breasts rose and fell rapidly as she watched, gasping 
for breath to fill her passion-heated lungs. Undiluted rapture was seething 
its way through her young body, turmoiling through her vagina, a scorching 
kiln of newly aroused animal lust, building and demanding satisfaction. 

Without any conscious effort, as if in a dream, as if she were all alone 
with no one else nearby, her hands slowly began crawling down the flat 
expanse of her stomach, attracted as if by magnetism to the fuzzy little vee 
between her thighs. The moving fingertips of both hands brushed lightly and 
delicately over the puffy hot lips of her wetly aroused pussy, and 
electrical excitement seemed to bolt its way through her body as she began 
caressing the tenderly sensitive outer and inner folds. One outstretched 
middle finger slipped inside the semen-drenched opening as if moving of its 
own volition. Etta could feel the soft, moist walls automatically close 
around the tantalizing digital invader, hungrily sucking at anything that 
might come inside and fill the narrow void. Her finger worked in and out as 
she watched the cock on the screen plunge into the image of herself again 
and again. 

"Gosh!" she gasped. "I don't know why, but just looking at what you did to 
me has me so hot, I feel like crawling up the wall. Oh Golly!" 

And then she felt Brummer moving on the bed, and she eased her hand away 
from her cunt as she looked at him. He had moved to the end of the bed, 
blocking her view of the screen, still totally in the raw, his growing cock 
dangling between his thighs. He moved closer and closer to her, his cock 
continuing to grow until it was once again the menacing baton she had twice 
felt thrust into her tiny, delicate cunt. And the sight of it made her even 
hotter than ever. He towered over her in the darkness like some slender 
tower, but her eyes were riveted to his cock, the head of which was already 
shining with its own secretions as it stood out from his hair-coated loins. 
As she stared, it continued swelling and thickening, enlarging with 
pulsating movements as the desire for her filled him. 

"Etta, in this house you don't ever have to play with yourself," he told 
her. "I have all the prick you'll ever need. And if I can't supply it 
myself, I'll bring along someone else who can fulfill your every wish ... at 
least until I tire of you." 

Etta wondered if Brummer would ever tire of her. It was possible, since many 
men seemed to tire of their women, after awhile. That was why the divorce 
rate was so high. Etta didn't have to know anything about sex to know that. 
But would Brummer ever tire of his first lay? 

"You've been a bad girl, Etta," he told her. "You have to receive some kind 
of punishment," he whispered, and she felt an apprehensive chill shudder 
through her. 

"What are you going to do?" she asked, starting to tremble. 

"Teach you a little lesson," he smiled. "It won't be too painful, and when 
it's all over, you'll feel as good as when my cock finished shooting into 
you those other times. Now be a good girl and roll over and onto your 
belly." 

Obediently, Etta rolled onto her belly, feeling a sticky trail of semen run 
down her thigh onto the covers. She lay silently on her stomach waiting for 
his next order. Although she wasn't sure what it was he had in mind, she was 
certain it had to do with his fucking her again. She remembered seeing two 
dogs in this position once, and had wondered what it was they were doing. 
Now she knew. She wondered if she could feel him penetrate her vagina more 
deeply in this position. 

"Up on your knees," he insisted, impatiently grabbing her hips and pulling 
her up. 

She came up willingly, then remained in that position, with her head lower 
than her bobbing asscheeks, waving the moons of her buttocks in front of him 
as one would wave a red flag before a maddened bull. In the dim light given 
off by the projected image on the screen, Brummer could see the moistly 
pouting lips of her dripping vagina puckered in erotic invitation as she 
leaned forward, resting her head on a pillow. Her soft, round, full-fleshed 
buttocks jutted toward him, totally unguarded and being offered to him to 
use as he saw fit. 

Etta's eyes were red, glazed with the excitement of being ravished again, 
and her heart quickened its beat at the thrilling prospect of feeling his 
solid wang once again embedded deeply between the trembling tight walls of 
her seething vagina. 

And then her dreamlike anticipation was completely shattered as she felt the 
digging, pushing, and probing of Brummer's totally erect phallus against her 
ass ... not at the hot, wet lips of her anxious cunt, but at the pucker of 
her asshole. 

Uncertain, as yet, as to what he intended, she shook her trembling asscheeks 
back at him, feeling the blunted knob of his cock thrust of her asshole. 

"Not there, oh, God! Please Mr. Brummer, not there." 

"It's time you called me Edgar," he told her, his voice totally unemotional, 
ignoring her pleas. 

Etta was certain his aim had been off, and he was really trying for her 
vagina, so she wasn't overly-worried at the moment. But when he continued 
trying to press his thick, rounded cock against her sphincter, she said, 
"You know you're too big for me back there. I'll never be able to take it. 
Please, Edgar." 

Brummer refused to reply. But in the fleeting instant before searing pain 
completely dulled her mind, Etta thought she heard a silly giggle from 
behind her. His only other response was instantaneous, and direct. With a 
loud grunt, he rammed his skinny thighs forward, increasing the already 
intolerable pressure against her tightly closed anal pucker. She fought to 
keep him out, but his hands gripped her hips and pulled her relentlessly 
toward him as his stiff cock pushed, pushed, pushed, and then she felt the 
doughnut of her sphincter slowly start to widen, bending inward. And then 
his hotly pulsating wang slowly, painfully, excruciatingly began invading 
her narrow rectal corridor. He lunged, and suddenly the head was in. He 
shoved again, and with more wicked pain she felt half the pole stretch her 
interior as it forced its way in. Half the length of his thrusting cock was 
now buried in the tightness of her squeezing asshole. 

Etta wanted to pull forward, away from the painful anguish. 

"Edgarrrr!" she screamed. "Edgar, you're killing me. Stop! For heaven's 
sake, don't do this to meeee!!" 

"No way," Brummer told her. "God! Your asshole is tighter than your cunt, 
and I'm going to fuck it, sweetie." 

He laughed lasciviously and gripped the fleshy part of her hips, holding 
onto them like a couple of handles, forcing her thrashing buttocks against 
his thighs as, with all his power, grunting with pain himself because of the 
tightness of her asshole, he crammed his massive cock in to the hilt. Her 
warm, dry, rubbery anal passage clung to his throbbing penis as his heavy 
balls swung forward and battered themselves against the fleshy lips of her 
seething cunt. The hair on his scrotum tickled her inner pink vaginal flesh 
while his swollen dork was mercilessly rotating inside the tightness of her 
asshole, widening it. 

His hands had such a tight grip on her hips, it was impossible to pull away. 
The agony became more acute and more powerful as she heard him gasp, 
"Remember, Etta. I am the boss. I, and no one else. My word is law in this 
room. Nothing you can do or say will ever change that." 

It was as if he had rammed a thick baseball bat into her anus, shoving it 
far up into her tight colon. Her stomach tightened, and for a brief moment 
the redheaded girl felt nausea. 

"No more," she begged. "Oh Edgar, please, please, no more no more. I can't 
take this. Ohhhhhh, gosh!" 

But Brummer ignored her words, driving his phallus even deeper, widening her 
colon, making her writhe with pain. He was enjoying the tight feeling of her 
bowels surrounding his cock, and he wanted more of it. 

"I'll do whatever you want," she screeched. "You're the boss. Yes, yes, 
whatever you say." 

"And when I tell you to suck my cock, you'll do that, too, won't you," he 
grunted, moving his hard phallus back just a little, then ploughing it right 
back in. 

"Oh yes, yes," she screeched. "I will, I will." 

But Brummer had deafened himself to her pleas. He knew her asshole would 
widen enough to take his cock, and eventually she would enjoy this, too. 
Hell! If the whores could take it, so could this one, His widened eyes 
stared with lust at the way his throbbing cock rammed itself back and forth 
inside her asshole, coming as far back as the corona, letting the throbbing 
tip flex against the tight, muscle-bands of her rectum, then slowly moving 
forward into her, pushing it in, inch by excruciating inch until the long, 
hot stem was lodged all the way inside her fiery, constricted passageway. 
The sensation was undeniably delightful, as far as he was concerned. As if 
driven by devils, he rammed his phallus into the rubbery, clutching depths 
of her colon again and again, his entire torso shuddering with the unabated 
raging of his unnatural desire. 

And as Brummer had believed, Etta now began feeling the change take place in 
her anus. Something wild, wonderful and weird was taking place. A 
transformation was occurring in her bowels, and the barbarous, uncivilized 
attack was changing from one of pain to one of pleasure. Little by little 
the pain and terror were being replaced with the overwhelming sensation of 
total and absolute subjugation as her ass continued experiencing the 
ravishing of the long cock moving through her. Once again, he had started 
out by hurting her, and now the sensation was turning into one of such utter 
delight, she knew she would never be able to describe it. Spasms of 
forbidden delight began shuddering through her naked, childlike body. The 
hunger that had built up inside her from watching herself on videotape now 
reached out seeking for assuagement. It was raging, almost totally out of 
control as she began undulating her white buttocks in tiny, increasing 
spirals, squeezing tightly with her anal muscles at the heavy shaft thrust 
into her rectum and colon, drilling in from the rear. Her asshole clutched 
the cock like a fist, determined to milk it as surely as her cunt had milked 
it, earlier. She intended draining it dry, filling her anal interior with 
his hot, sticky flow as she had filled her vagina with it. She could feel 
the grey residue seeping down her inner thighs at this moment. Lord! It felt 
wonderful. 

She knew there were scenes on the ceiling depicting this, as well, only she 
hadn't believed what she had been looking at. 

"This is called sodomy," Brummer told her. "It's also called buggery, and 
you and I will practice this in the future, as well as straight fucking. I'm 
also going to fuck your mouth. I won't get tired of you until I know you can 
perform all these acts as well as any practiced whore. So we have a long 
time, little Etta. A long time." 

"I ... uhhhh ... love it ..." Etta gasped. "Ohhhhhh Goddd! I love it, love 
it, love it!" 

She was now wallowing in intense pleasure as all pain had slowly faded away. 
The wriggling teenager clenched her buttocks all the more tightly, 
intensifying the wicked thrills shooting through her back canal. Nothing 
else seemed to matter now except for the finale she expected to feel from 
all this. Somewhere, deep down inside her, she knew she would come as the 
nerve-endings in her anus tingled again and again. She'd had no idea she 
could feel such rapture from her asshole. She knew if she continued this, 
sooner or later he would shoot his scalding drops of sperm into her rectum, 
and how she ached to feel it. She wanted its heat flooding her large 
intestine with a torrent of white spend until it ran up into her belly and 
sloshed around inside the way it was sloshing around in her heated cunt. 
Thrills ran through every pore in her body, and she knew it was only a 
matter of moments. 

And suddenly, less than a second later, her wildest fantasies were being 
fulfilled as Brummer let out a loud squeal, sounding more like a stuck pig 
than a man in the throes of delight. 

"EEEEEEYYYYYYAAAAAAIIIIIIGGGGGGHHHHHH!" he bellowed, his huge phallus rammed 
into her ass to the hilt, spurting its heavy, surging droplets into her 
colon. And this immediately triggered her own orgasm as an overpowering 
inundation of thrills, threatening to swamp her, finally did so, drowning 
her in rapture. 

"AAAAARRRRR AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!" she shouted, feeling electric sensations 
shudder through her rectum. 

From her anus, the sensations blasted through the rest of her quaking body 
as his wildly jerking cock continued spurting its seething load into her 
body. She felt the semen ricochet flamingly around inside her, coating her 
anal walls and filling her large intestine with its substance. Then she felt 
the seed back up and seep out of her rectal cavity, oozing out from around 
his cock which was still buried inside her. The sperm soaked his swinging 
testicles, then fell down along her thighs, meeting the semen that was 
drying there from her vagina. She felt the leathery balls brush against her 
pussy lips, and the deposits of sperm rubbed against her cuntlips, soaking 
them again. Violent shudders continued to wrack her body, and as her orgasm 
was ready to subside, she suddenly realized a new, more intense climax was 
about to surge through her. 

"AAAAAIIIIIEEEEE!" she screamed. "AGAINNNNNNNN!" 

Etta rammed her buttocks back, slamming it solidly against the continually 
spewing penis buried all the way in her flooded asshole. She felt her entire 
body explode with wild sensations as blast after blast of frothing come 
continued to shoot into her, only to spill out again. 

Her strength was suddenly gone, and all she could do was fall forward on the 
bed, listening and feeling his long, bending penis now slide from her 
interior. Cool air poured into the opened ass channel as her mind whirled. 
Her insides felt chilled now that the cock was gone, and she longed to feel 
it in her. 

Brummer fell onto the bed beside her, lying face-up. 

"I hope you've learned your lesson well," he said to her. 

"Why?" she gasped. "What would you have done had I not tried to be the 
boss." 

"I would have been a little nicer about it," he told the teenage girl. "I 
would have coated my cock with petroleum jelly before pushing it into your 
ass. It would have made that initial entry a lot less painful. As long as 
you do as I say, nothing will happen to hurt you, anymore. You've 
experienced the two real pains of sexual contact. True, there are abnormal 
thing we could do, like attach wires to your clitoris and nipples and send 
little jolts of electricity through them. Eventually, you'd learn to love 
that, too, but that requires too much work. Besides, much as I hate my 
fellow man, I'm not a pain freak. I want pleasure from you, Etta. The one 
way I can assure myself of your returning, aside from these videotapes, is 
to give you pleasure, as well." 

"Well you're sure doing it," Etta admitted. 

"I know, I know," Brummer nodded. "I told you I would. And as long as you 
continue to please me, I'll continue giving you pleasure. One day, I'll tire 
of you and let you go, and then you'll be free to fool around with other men 
and boys and get yourself as pregnant as you wish. But for now, you belong 
to me, and if you play around with any other male, it will be because I 
choose to let it happen. Come now, let's wash out your vagina." 

"But not my ass," she insisted. "It feels heavenly in there, and I want to 
keep that feeling awhile longer." 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Etta's best friend was Susan. Susan, in her own way, was a female version of 
Edgar Brummer. Only Susan was a little chubby while Brummer had been on the 
thin side. Had it not been for Etta, Susan would have been friendless in 
school Not that she was ugly. Far from it. In spite of her chubbiness, she 
had a nice-looking face and a rounded body with large breasts. Had Susan 
lost twenty pounds, she would have been just right. She had long, black, 
lustrous hair, a slightly rounded belly, a pudgy waistline, and a big pair 
of buttocks the boys used to tease her about. 

Unlike Etta, Susan was well-versed when it came to reading about sex. Her 
father loved to read all the new books that came out, describing stories 
about various people who get themselves involved in sexual situations. His 
favorite books came from a company with a goat as a trademark, and he bought 
as many books as they put out every month. And Susan used to sneak them from 
his room and read them as she fingered herself to a climax each night. Her 
father had so many books, he never missed any that she took. 

Because Etta was so naive about sex, Susan knew better then to try and 
instruct her. People like Etta's parents were always prudish, and as a 
result, got very mad if anyone tried educating their children. And that was 
a shame, because Etta was a perfect friend in every other respect. 

Like Etta, Susan felt a natural distaste for Edgar Brummer. He was 
definitely not her idea of a lover. And she felt very uncomfortable when he 
leered at her each time she visited Etta. 

Despite having read all her father's erotic books, and in spite of her 
constant masturbating (which assured her of reaching some kind of climax, if 
nothing else), Susan was very naive when it came to sexual contact between 
two people. And it was this naivete Edgar Brummer wanted to corrupt. He 
recognized his own attributes in the dark-haired, thirteen-year-old girl, 
and like all people who see themselves in someone else, he felt a repulsion 
for the girl. And it was this very repulsion that made him want to conquer 
her. 

"Your friend, Susan," he had said to Etta before she'd left his house that 
Friday. 

"What about her?" Etta had asked. 

"I want to fuck her, next." 

"So?" Etta had asked, somewhat startled by his frankness. 

"So I want you to arrange to bring her here, tomorrow." 

"Even if I did, she would never do anything with you," Etta had said. "She's 
completely unaware of how good you are as a lover. No matter how I try 
convincing her, she won't do it. And I won't help you do to her what you did 
to me." 

"You mean the rape?" Brummer had asked. "No, no, raping her would be no fun 
at all. With you it was a distinct pleasure. But I want her to willingly 
give herself to me." 

"She'll never do it," Etta had insisted. 

"Oh but she will," Brummer had laughed. "She will, because you will help me 
get her into a position where I'll be able to coerce her into agreeing." 

"How?" Etta had wanted to know. 

"Etta, are you aware of the pleasure I feel when playing with you?" he had 
asked. 

"Sure," she had nodded. "I get the same kicks playing with you." 

"Are you aware you would probably enjoy playing with a girl just as much as 
I enjoy it?" 

"You're nuts!" Etta had told him. 

"No, I'm being very factual. And that is precisely what I want to do with 
Susan. I want you to play with her, here, on this bed in my secret room. I 
want you to bring her to a climax, and I want you to make her do the same 
with you." 

"She'll never go for it," Etta had insisted. 

"I expect you will make her go for it," Brummer laughed. "She'll do it. 
Believe me, she will. I know her type. I know it very well. She has no other 
friends, has she?" 

"Well, no, I guess not." 

"She snitches on other kids in school, doesn't she," Brummer had 
emphatically stated. "Yes, I know her type. Deep down inside she's dying for 
a sexual encounter with someone, and you, being her best friend, would be 
the most logical person." 

"But she'd never come into this house," Etta had pointed out. "She doesn't 
exactly like you." 

"Actually she despises me," Brummer had insisted. "But she would come if she 
thought I wasn't home. Not only that, but if you mention this room to her, 
with all its erotic pictures and paintings, not to mention the one or two 
small bits of sculpture, she'd be dying to see it. She'll come, Etta. You 
just make the offer. And when she does, I want you to make love to her." 

 CHAPTER SIX 

"You're crazy," Susan said to Etta. "I wouldn't go into that man's house if 
you paid me money." 

"Well I'm sure not going to pay you any money," Etta told her black-haired 
girl friend. 

The two of them were in Etta's house, peering out the window at the house 
next door obscured by high hedges. Etta was wearing a simple green dress, 
and Susan was wearing a white skirt and grey blouse. 

"Why would you even want to sneak in, in the first place?" Susan asked, 
chewing on a piece of rye bread she had found in Etta's kitchen. The two of 
them were in the living room, now. 

"Well, I never spoke about this to anyone before," Etta told her, lowering 
her voice and speaking confidentially. "But you know how we're getting 
older, and, well ... we're sort of maturing. Well, you know, sexually we're 
also developing." 

"Gee, I never thought you knew anything about sex," Susan remarked. "Your 
folks were always careful to keep the subject out of their talks, so I 
figured you didn't know anything about it. That's why I never brought it 
up." 

"You?" Etta asked, somewhat surprised. "I thought you were the naive one 
when it came to sex." 

"Oh heck, I know all about it," Susan confided. "I read a lot of books my 
daddy brings home." 

"Do they have pictures?" Etta asked. "Gosh, no. Why?" 

"Have you ever seen pictures of what it's like between a guy and a girl?" 

"No," Susan admitted. 

"Well, I had to bring something to Mr. Brummer for my father last week," 
Etta lied. "And he wasn't home, but his door was open, so I walked in. I 
called out, figuring he might be in back somewhere, but he wasn't in the 
house. I walked through the whole house, upstairs, down in the basement, and 
all the way in back. Did you notice he has a house just like this one, 
except for an enclosed extension in the rear, with no windows?" 

"I never really cared to notice," Susan replied. 

"Well, it was a secret room." 

"What?" Susan asked. 

"Uh huh. And the wall between that room and his private den was open. I 
walked in, and the ceiling and walls are a combination of crazy mirrors, 
paintings, drawings, and even photos showing men and women doing everything. 
And when I say everything, I mean everything." 

"Honest?" 

"Cross my heart," Etta said, crossing her heart. 

"Oh wow! I'd give almost anything to see that." 

"Well, I saw Mr. Brummer go out about a half hour ago. And I heard him 
talking to the mailman, saying he would be home in a couple of hours. I'll 
bet we could find a way into his house, and you could see his secret room." 

"Gosh, do you think we should take the chance?" Susan asked. 

"What chance?" Etta wanted to know. "He said he would be gone for two hours. 
Well a half hour has gone. We could sneak over there and stay for just an 
hour, and be out in plenty of time." 

"Oh, wow! I'd love it, but the idea scares me." 

"Come on," Etta chided. "It'll be fun, you'll see. And you'll really flip 
out when you see the bed he has in that room." 

"A bed? Downstairs? Gosh!" Susan gasped. "Do you think he ever gets to use 
it? I mean, well, you know ..." 

"Let's go over and see if we can find out," Etta insisted. 

The two girls put on their coats and hurried outside. Stepping onto 
Brummer's property, they circle the house, and Etta found a basement window 
conveniently unlocked. They crawled in through the window, then quietly 
walked upstairs. 

"See," Etta said, taking off her coat and folding it over her arm. "There's 
no one here." 

"Gee, I always thought this place looked more spooky than it does," Susan 
said. 

"Why?" Etta asked. "Mr. Brummer may be a mean man, but he isn't a devil 
worshiper or anything like that." 

"I suppose not," Susan shrugged. "Where's this secret room." 

"Follow me," Etta said, leading her into the den. 

By now, she knew how to find the button which would make the wall open. 
Brummer had shown her. But she pretended to fumble around for a minute 
before supposedly locating the button. She pressed it, and the wall slid 
aside. 

"Come on," Etta said to Susan as the inside lights went on. "You'll love 
this." 

Susan apprehensively followed her friend into the room and looked at the 
various scenes of copulation, sodomy, fellatio, cunnilingus, and pedophilia. 
Her eyes bugged out and all she could do was stand there while Etta removed 
her coat without her even realizing it. Etta put both coats on a small chair 
off to the side. 

"Feel this bed," Etta told her, running over and bouncing on the 
old-fashioned feather mattress. 

Susan slowly walked forward and sat on the bed, her eyes still taking in the 
different scenes. 

"Gosh," she said. "Who'd have thought old man Brummer knew about sex. These 
are the greatest pictures." 

"That's not all," Etta told her. "You should see the private bathroom he 
has. Come on." 

She led Susan into the bathroom where Brummer had helped her douche herself 
out. It was a large, blue-tiled bathroom, and there were erotic scenes in 
here, as well. 

"Hey, you really want to play a wild trick on Brummer," Etta said. "Let's 
use his shower, together. It'll be fun." 

"I ... don't know," Susan said, acting scared. "I really ... I mean ... well 
I took a shower this morning." 

"Yeah, but wait'll you see the scented soaps he has in here," Etta told her. 
"You'll really flip. I tried the shower the last time I was here. I smelled 
nice all day and through the night. Come on, Susan. Be daring." 

"I'm scared of the idea," Susan admitted. 

"Heck, the whole thing won't take more than ten minutes. And then, after we 
dry off, we can cuddle up together in that big bed for awhile. Come on, 
Susan." 

"Do you think we should take the chance?" Susan asked. 

"We only live once. Come on. It'll be fun." 

"Well, okay," Susan nodded. "Let's give it a try." 

Etta had no idea Susan was such a sensuous girl. She had really kept her 
feelings hidden whenever the two of them were together. She was amazed 
Brummer could read the girl so much better then she. She was even more 
amazed to feel herself becoming heatedly aroused at the prospect of being 
naked with Susan. She knew she would have to hurry, before her friend had a 
change of heart. She suddenly realized she was feeling a strong urge to look 
at Susan's naked body. 

Going back to the bedroom, she kicked off her shoes, and Susan did the same 
thing. There was the whispering sound of a zipper, and then Etta was 
stepping out of her dress. Although Brummer had specified she not wear 
panties when coming to his home, this one time she had chosen to defy his 
edict, simply because Susan might suspect something if she saw Etta's naked 
pussy so quickly. As it was, Etta was showing off a pair of brief, green 
bikini panties barely hiding her attributes. The panties seemed to cling 
longingly to her flesh. And her small bra did almost nothing to hide the 
swelling curves of her breasts. Etta realized her bust had enlarged one cup 
size since she had started with Brummer, and she was certain his handling of 
her tits had been part of the cause of such rapid growth. 

Reaching behind her, Etta unfastened her bra and removed it, and Susan 
watched as her pert globes suddenly dangled free, the ripe, alabaster mounds 
sensuously swaying. Susan stared at the silver-dollar-sized pink aureole, 
ripe and rich like tasty fruit. Each nipple stood out like a rich, pink 
temple on the slope of an ivory hill. Yes, twin temples on snow-covered 
mountains, looking as if they had been erected to Priapus, himself. 

"Hey," Etta admonished. "I'm the only one undressing. Come on, now. You 
agreed." 

Susan watched as the redheaded girl slid her panties down over her hips, and 
kicked them from her ankles. Now Etta stood before her brunette friend, 
totally nude. 

Susan's mouth hung open with admiration. Everything about Etta's body seemed 
so perfect. Her tits seemed so firm and upstanding, as if they had been 
artistically balanced by some sculptor. Her sloping shoulders were nicely 
round, neither too narrow not too broad. Most of all, Susan envied Etta's 
tiny waistline leading into the wide flare of her creamy haunches. The 
little creases that ran so enticingly into the vee of her pubis, covered by 
a sprinkle of red hair made Etta look even more arousing to Susan. The 
brunette girl got the uncomfortable feeling of arousal, and realized her 
friend's body was inflaming her. She could see Etta's pouting pussy lips and 
the pinkness between them, making her vagina look like some ripely opened 
tiny peach. And her thighs looked so slender and nice, even if the girl was 
only four feet nine inches tall. She, Susan, was only five feet two, 
herself. 

"Gee, you're really nice to look at," Susan gasped. "You look just like one 
of those marble statues he has over there." 

Etta could see a sense of inferiority creeping into Susan, as if the latter 
felt she could never compete with her redheaded friend. Etta realized she 
would have to do something, quickly. 

"Hey," Etta said. "Instead of a shower, let's you and I share a hot tub. I 
found a lot of bath scents around here. Did you get a good look at the sexy 
bathtub Brummer has?" 

"Sexy bathtub?" Susan asked. 

"Uh-huh. It's shaped like a hexagon. I'll bet six or seven people could fit 
into it." 

She proudly walked across the room, around a corner where the bathroom 
curved, and as she did so, Susan, still standing in the bedroom, made up her 
mind to be as reckless as her friend. It was terrific to find a friend who 
not only never made fun of her, but shared the same interests as she. Susan 
had no idea Etta knew so much about sex. She took off her skirt and blouse, 
then peeled off her socks. Her hands reached behind her to remove the bra, 
then hesitated for a moment. 

No, she thought. I won't chicken out. If Etta says it's all right, it's all 
right. And she took off her bra. 

Susan's breasts were much larger than Etta's. Even if she had lost weight, 
her breasts would be much fuller. And they had more of a definite uplift to 
them in spite of their size. But her aureole were only the size of half 
dollars. Her nipples, like her aureole, were a pinkish brown. Even when not 
aroused, her nipples were a half inch long. Now, they were three quarters of 
an inch, and still growing. She blushed, feeling embarrassed about the large 
size of her breasts. But she was determined to continue, and with a bravado 
she never knew she had, she peeled off her panties and left them in the 
bedroom, then stepped into the bathroom. 

With the water running in the tub, Etta stepped around the comer and looked 
at her naked friend. And the sight of Susan buoyed the flames of lust even 
higher in her. She wondered how Brummer knew she would be aroused at the 
sight of her friend. Was it possible she had some butch tendencies? No, no, 
she doubted it. In fact, if Susan was feeling anything like she was feeling, 
she knew the heavier girl would be thinking the same thing, and she would 
have to put the brunette's mind at rest. 

Etta's eyes were locked on the raven hairs surrounding Susan's nest, beneath 
the slightly swollen belly. And the way the ebony haired girl's breasts 
seemed to uplift and point in her direction made Etta think her friend was 
offering them in sacrifice to her. In spite of her excess weight, Susan's 
hipbones were shaped to perfection, and her best feature was, naturally, her 
rounded, fatty buttocks. They were full, shimmering globous mounds, and Etta 
bet they would be soft to touch as they gently sloped down to join her upper 
thighs making her pubic mound look more like a Y than a V. 

"You know," Etta said, her voice hoarse with lust she was trying to hide, 
"you're a very beautiful woman, Susan. I mean, you're a great-looking girl. 
You'll develop into a gorgeous woman soon enough. Heck, you probably look a 
lot better than most women, right now. Gee! You'll never have anything to be 
ashamed of. Your breasts are great. They're even shaped better than mine. 
Gosh! You really look fabulous." 

"Come on," Susan shrugged. "I mean, you know you're better looking than I 
am. I'm so ... chubby." 

"Hey," Etta assured her. "Don't worry. The weight'll disappear after awhile. 
Gee, two years ago you were much heavier. Little by little the weight is 
going away. And right now you really look fabulous." 

"Honest?" Susan asked, her eyes begging to hear Etta repeat herself. 

"Really," Etta told her. 

Susan's mind was spinning with conflicting thoughts. The look on Etta's face 
seemed real enough. She had seen the same look on her father's face when he 
had walked into her room without knocking one day and had seen her naked 
body. Though he was her father, he was a man, and Susan had seen the hunger 
in his eyes, though she knew he would never admit it. 

"Boy, I'm thirsty," Etta said, feeling the heat building in her. "Hey, let's 
see if there's any soda in the refrigerator." 

"Gee, we can't do that," Susan told her. "I mean, taking a bath and all is 
one thing. But drinking the man's soda or eating his food would be wrong." 

"Well let's get some cold water, then," Etta said. "I mean, it wouldn't do 
any harm to drink some of his water." 

"Okay," Susan nodded, and watched Etta walk out of the bathroom, through the 
private room and the den, into the hallway and the kitchen. She followed, 
her eyes watching Etta's jiggling asscheeks, and she felt hotter than ever. 
A glass of water sounded like one great idea. She didn't know why the sight 
of the other girl's buttocks got her so heated up, but she did know she felt 
like falling to her knees, wrapping her arms around Etta's hips, and 
plunging her tongue into the seething depths of the licentious crack winding 
its way between those two pouting cheeks. She would love to push her tongue 
way, way down, and maybe even kiss Etta's pink pussy. Gosh! That would 
really be something. But Etta would probably get angry and push her away. 
No, no she couldn't do anything like that. She shuddered, feeling exactly 
what Etta knew she would be feeling; that she had latent lesbianic traits 
somewhere inside her. She hoped Etta would not be able to read her mind. 

When they got to the kitchen, Etta opened the freezer and took out a bucket 
full of ice cubes. 

"Where do you think he keeps the glasses?" Susan asked. 

"Look in the cabinet over the sink," Etta suggested, not really knowing 
herself, since she had never been in Brummer's kitchen, before. 

Susan opened the cabinet, took out two glasses, and shut it. Etta watched 
her, noting how her full breasts stood up even more when she reached for the 
glasses. Gosh! Her friend really did have a nice body. And as Brummer had 
predicted, she felt herself wanting to touch Susan. But not yet, not yet. 

Etta opened the refrigerator and took out a jug of cold water. The light 
from inside the refrigerator haloed her body, illuminating her torso, making 
her look golden for a moment. Her feet were apart, and the soft, pink folds 
of her vaginal lips seemed to light up, too. Susan stared, hungering for her 
friend's body all the more. She put ice into each of the glasses, then put 
the ice bucket back in the freezer. 

Etta closed the refrigerator door and turned, holding the jug of ice water. 
She held it at stomach level, and when she turned, her breast brushed 
Susan's nipple for an instant. Susan felt as if an electric wire had touched 
her nipple, and it took all her willpower not to jump away. She turned and 
put the two glasses on the kitchen counter, and Etta, reaching around in 
front of her, set the jug down on the counter, letting her pubic hair brush 
against Susan's asscheeks. The heavier girl visibly shuddered this time. She 
poured water into both glasses, handed one to Etta, and drained hers. Then 
she threw the ice cubes in the sink, and said, "Let's go take that bath, get 
dressed, and scram!" 

Etta left her glass on the counter and followed Susan back to the private 
bathroom. The tub was filled with hot water now, and Susan splashed into it, 
turning off the water. She sat in the tub up to her neck, watching as Etta 
stepped in. The red haired girl stood over her, less than two feet away, and 
Susan stared up at her shimmering vagina. She could see the pouting lips 
opening and closing like the mouth of a hungry guppy. Fire raced through her 
body, and she shuddered, saying, "Etta, Etta, don't stand there like that. I 
can't stand it." 

"What's wrong?" Etta asked. 

"I think I'm a dyke," Susan replied. "Oh, gosh! I think so." 

Susan's mind tried to reject the thought, but it kept coming back to her as 
she stared at Etta's glistening cuntlips. The sight of them had so inflamed 
her, she felt like reaching up, gripping Etta's asscheeks, and pulling her 
pussy down so her mouth could suck the dripping juices first starting to 
appear in the pink gash. She ached to sink her face between Etta's small, 
firm, rounded breasts, and God! God! She wanted to feel the red haired 
girl's hands wandering all over her own body. 

Then Etta slowly sat in the tub, feeling the hot water wash over her as she 
stared up at the tiled ceiling. The heat had steamed up all the mirrors in 
the bathroom, which was one of the reasons why Brummer had never put mirrors 
on the ceiling. 

"Mmmmm! I never realized a hot bath on a cold afternoon could feel so good," 
Etta said to her friend. She lay back in the water, feeling it wash all over 
her. 

Susan reached out with her left hand, hoping to grab onto something to keep 
her from sliding any deeper into the tub. Her fingers closed around 
something cold and thick, and when she turned her eyes, she realized she was 
grasping the eight inch length of marble prick attached to the statue of a 
faun mounted on the edge of the bathtub. 

My God! she thought. Oh my God! What am I holding? 

She could feel the contours of the marble cock and realized it had been 
shaped to match the real thing, right up to the capped head. 

Her hand continued gripping it as she let her head rest against the side of 
the tub. It did keep her from slipping any lower. Silently, she stared 
around the room, looking at everything. Erotic mosaics had been tiled into 
the bathroom walls, and her nostrils were suddenly filled with the heady 
odor of sweet-smelling steam as Etta poured bath oil into the tub. Off to 
the side were two phallic-shaped towel racks, and even they aroused her. 

Etta stared at her friend, and had to admit Brummer certainly had all the 
right things for building erotic sensations in a person. The crowning touch 
was the photo album he'd left lying on a chair near the tub. 

Susan's eye fell on the album, and she reached out and picked it up. Opening 
it, she saw photos of two women playing with one another. One woman lay with 
her head on a feather pillow, while the other woman had her head buried 
between the thighs of the first woman. The sight was so outrageously 
arousing, all Susan could do was stare at it, feeling tremors of volcanic 
lava starting to burn through her young body. Susan could see the pink 
tongue darting into the even pinker center of the reclining woman's pussy. 
She also saw, below the tongue, a finger probing into the rectum of the 
supine woman. Susan couldn't tear her eyes from the photo. She was picturing 
herself as the woman lying down, with Etta pressing her mouth to her seeping 
vagina. Strong, uncontrollable tremors of wanton desire were rippling 
through her breasts, making her nipples swell and enlarge even more. 

Susan tore her gaze from the book and looked at her suds-covered nipples. As 
her eyes locked onto them, she saw them longer, thicker, and stiffer than 
they had ever been, before. God! Just thinking about Etta's tongue sinking 
into her vagina had done that. Deep inside her seething little virginal cunt 
she felt a shuddering spasm. It was a single, wonderful throb and nothing 
more. God! God! She wanted to feel more throbs like that one. She wanted to 
feel her vagina twitch again and again. She ached for the pulsating feeling 
to totally overwhelm and consume her. But as she lay there in the tub, no 
other sensations followed. Slamming the book shut, she put it on the chair 
and gripped the marble faun's phallus, lifting herself out of the water. She 
had to get out of here. 

Etta opened her eyes and stared at the soft, coal-colored triangle of hair 
that was dripping water as if it were coming from inside her friend. 

"What's wrong?" Etta asked. 

"I have to get out of the water," Susan said, feeling tremors of weakness in 
her knees as she stepped out of the tub and onto the fluffy bath mat. Her 
hand reached out, grabbed a fluffy towel, and began massaging her body with 
it. She made a point of drying her back, her belly, and even her thighs, but 
she avoided touching her buttocks, her pelvis, or her breasts. She knew 
touching herself there would only make things worse. 

Etta sat upright in the sudsy tub, her breasts rising out of the white foam 
like balloons rising from some magic mist. She stretched, then winced, 
saying, "Ouch! I must have pulled a muscle with all the exercises I did, 
yesterday. Gee! If I'd known the hot bath wouldn't have done me much good, 
I'd have rubbed my shoulders with hot oil or something." 

Susan, whose wet breasts shone against the dryness of the rest of her body, 
said, "Gee. Before we leave here maybe I can do something for you. Do you 
think we have time?" 

"We've only been here about a half hour," Etta replied. "We could probably 
stay at least another half hour and he'd never even know we were here." 

"Well is there anything I can do?" Susan asked. 

"Gee, could you rub my back and shoulders?" Etta asked, standing up in the 
tub, letting a stream of water cascade down the length of her body. 

Susan watched the water and suds move from between Etta's breasts, along the 
length of her belly, into the crevice between her red haired thighs. She 
found herself salivating, feeling the urge to plunge her tongue between 
Etta's thighs, and hoped the need didn't show on her face. 

Etta climbed out of the tub, then said, "Let's see what we can find around 
here." 

She dried her body off, then began looking through the lotions and oils on 
the tiled dressing table in the bathroom. 

"This looks good," she said, picking up a bottle of some white lotion. "It's 
supposed to make the skin feel hot and tingly. D'you think you could rub it 
on my back and shoulders?" 

"Well sure, I guess so," Susan nodded, as Etta took all the towels they had 
used and hung them carefully on another phallic extension, to let them dry. 

The two naked girls moved into the bedroom, and Etta lay, face-down, on the 
feather bed. She turned her naked body toward Susan for a moment as she 
asked, "Have you ever given anyone any kind of rub down?" 

"I used to rub my daddy's back and shoulders all the time," Susan replied, 
nodding. 

"Okay," Etta replied, turning back and wincing again, as if she were in 
pain. "It feels like it's near my right shoulder," she told the brunette. 

"Gee," Susan said, pouring the liquid into the palm of her hand and putting 
the bottle down on the nearby might table. "This feels so slippery and oily, 
just like ... well ..." 

"Like a man's sperm?" Etta finished. The moment her massaging palms touched 
Etta's skin, Susan found the hungry crocodile of lust inside her coming 
violently to life. And as her hands rubbed Etta's back and shoulders, she 
could see the redheaded girl reacting, too. It was a sensitive moment 
between the two close girl friends. 

Etta, realizing she had to make Susan continue, turned her head, saying, 
"That feels terrific. You'll have to show me how you do it. Boy, my muscles 
are starting to feel better." 

Susan poured more oil into her palm, and she noted it probably did feel like 
a man's sperm. Wow! That stuff must really feel terrific if it felt like 
this. She dug the palms of her hands into the deep muscles under the 
shoulder blades, working her palms toward Etta's spine. Her fingers began 
working on Etta's deltoids as well as the back of the redheaded girl's neck, 
and suddenly Susan became aware Etta's body seemed to be vibrating. Her 
redheaded friend was purring like a kitten, and Susan felt her own body 
reacting even more strongly. She was panting heavily, and it had nothing to 
do with the exertions she had used in massaging Etta's back. Lord! Feeling 
Etta's baby soft flesh this way made her want to lean forward and kiss her. 
She knew Etta couldn't see her from this position, and she began rubbing her 
belly up and down on the edge of the bed as she continued massaging Etta's 
neck. In fact, she was actually able to rub her pelvis against the covers, 
and it felt good. It even felt better than when she fingered herself. Her 
vagina was getting wetter and wetter, and she rubbed Etta's back with more 
and more strength, working her way down to the waist. She stopped there, 
knowing if her hands went any lower, she might lose control of herself. 

"Hey, don't stop," Etta squealed. "That feels good. Keep going and do the 
rest of me. Come on, Susan. You can do it." 

Susan poured out some oil at the base of Etta's spine. It immediately began 
leaking into the crevice between Etta's asscheeks. Susan massaged quickly, 
trying to stop the running oil with her hand. Her lubed fingers slid easily 
between the rubbery mounds of Etta's gluteal flesh, and she realized her 
fingers were pressing against the ring of Etta's anus. 

Etta gasped and moaned, loosening her body to allow her easier access. She 
wriggled a bit as if to urge Susan's fingers to move all the more quickly. 

Susan thought of the photo she had seen in the album, of one girl's finger 
pushing into the anus of the other girl, and abruptly, without realizing 
what she was doing, her hand spread Etta's asscheeks wider apart and began 
massaging the wrinkled pucker. Etta sighed and shoved her ass back against 
the moving fingers. 

Suddenly realizing what she was doing, Susan suddenly felt ashamed of 
herself. She tugged her fingers from inside and began squeezing the rounded 
hillocks of Etta's asscheeks. She felt her heart thudding in her breast, and 
she was panting. Etta's thighs suddenly opened, and she was using her knees 
to lift her buttocks against the hand of Susan's massaging fingers. With a 
sudden, frightening realization, Susan understood Etta was rubbing her own 
clitoris against the bedcovers, trying to quench the flames building higher 
and higher in her body. 

Suddenly coming to a decision, Susan said, "Lift your behind a little so I 
can massage your inner thighs." 

Etta did as Susan instructed, and Susan gripped the left thigh between her 
two hands and began sliding her palms up and down the full length of it. She 
watched the way her hands were moving, as if she were gripping some 
elephantine phallus and manipulating it. The thought made her all the more 
wildly excited as her hands rode higher and higher along the thigh. And then 
she felt a thumb make contact with the soft, tender, pink folds of Etta's 
vagina. 

"Unnnnh ... annnhhh ..." Etta gasped, suddenly bringing her thighs together 
to prevent Susan from pushing her thumb any higher. Her throbbing legs began 
clenching and unclenching, and then she finally relaxed and released Susan's 
hands. 

Both females were panting and gasping, breathing as if they had exerted 
themselves more than ever before. Susan was becoming aware of a hot, 
stickiness dripping down her own inner thighs. She was aflame as she had 
never been before. Even when she masturbated she never had feelings like 
this. She needed relief. Oh Lord! She really needed relief, even if it meant 
being called a les, afterward. Oh wow! She felt like running into the 
bathroom and impaling her virgin cunt on the phallic spire attached to the 
marble faun. Oh God! She couldn't take it anymore. 

Etta's body was moving, rolling over. First she was on her side, then her 
back. Through lust-veiled eyes, heavy lidded with desire, she gasped, "Now 
... Susan ... now do my front." Her hands lifted her breasts toward Susan, 
as if offering them to her. 

Susan couldn't stand it any longer. She put the bottle of ointment down on 
the night table, then spread Etta's thighs wide apart with both hands. She 
stared down into the pink nest hidden by red curls, then slowly, very slowly 
lowered her face into the smooth, sucking cleft between the spread loins. 
Her lips pressed against Etta's vertical smile, and her tongue sank between 
the shuddering labia as her teeth began chewing the thick, outer flesh of 
Etta's right labius. She bit and chewed with just enough strength to build 
heavy desire in Etta even higher. Her tongue stabbed so far into the sucking 
cleft, she thought it would be tugged out by the roots. The tip wormed its 
way into Etta's tight hole, sinking deeper and deeper, licking all four 
walls at once. 

Etta was aflame as she never thought a girl could be. 

"Slow," she gasped, "please, Susan, slow, very slow." 

Etta's hand reached out and gripped Susan's flesh, pulling on it until the 
heavier girl understood Etta wanted her to move her thighs closer. Susan 
moved around on her knees until they were near Etta's shoulder, and the 
redheaded girl thrust her fingers between Susan's thighs, poking them into 
the soft swamp between the brunette's cuntlips. Her fingers ran up and down 
the love-starved slit, and she finally found the clitoris. The ball of her 
forefinger rubbed it once, twice, three times, and Susan lifted her dripping 
face from between Etta's thighs to scream out her orgasm ... the first one 
induced by someone other than herself. 

"AHHHH ... OHHHH ... UHHHH ... YESSSSS ... YESSSSS ... DON'T ... UUHHHNNHH 
... STOPPPP ... DONT ... DON'T ... DON'T ... AHHHHHH ... HAHHRRGGH!" 

Etta, still rubbing the ball of her finger against Susan's clitoris, felt 
the latter's thighs crush tightly around her hand, and suddenly the flood of 
scalding lava was washing over her hand and wrist. Susan raised her face a 
little higher, gasping, crying, screeching, and then she sank her face 
between Etta's thighs again. Etta, who had been on the verge from the mere 
thought of what they were doing, now felt her body slipping over the 
precipice of sanity. 

"HEYYAAGGH!" she screamed, but Susan, totally lost in the thrilling ecstasy 
and rapture of her own orgasm, was totally deaf to her friend's wailing 
fulfillment. 

Susan no longer had a sense of time passing. With this advent of her first 
externally induced orgasm she sank weakly onto the bed, her head literally 
slamming into the down mattress. Her right hand clutched Etta's thigh, 
tightly, as if letting go would mean a loss of life. There was no strength 
left in her body. All her bones and muscles had turned to yielding rubber. 

Time passed, and Etta stirred, sighing deeply, never realizing how much fun 
playing with another girl could be. It was wonderful, really wonderful. And 
if Brummer was correct, she still had a lot more wonderful things to learn. 

Susan felt ashamed of herself. She had performed a forbidden act with this 
girl she still considered as someone knowing much less than herself. The 
sensation she had felt from the touch of Etta's finger had been ten times 
greater than anything she had ever enjoyed while using her own finger. But 
it was all so wrong, so sinful. Tears started coursing down her cheeks and 
she began sobbing. 

"Susan?" Etta asked, feeling a little uneasy listening to her friend cry. 
But Susan's only answer was a deep-throated sob. "Hey, come on," Etta said. 
"Say, did I hurt you?" 

Susan lifted her head and looked at Etta. The red haired girl could see the 
tear-streaks running down her friend's cheeks. And Susan was now sobbing as 
if her heart would break. 

"Come on, Susan, tell me if I hurt you," Etta insisted. "I didn't mean to, 
you know that." 

"Gosh, I feel so ashamed of myself," Susan sobbed. 

"Why?" Etta asked. 

"Oh, Etta, can you ever forgive me for what I've done?" And she began 
bawling like an infant. Sobs wracked her body, making her full breasts 
bounce wildly as she sobbed, "Oh, gee! I'm not really butch. Honest! You 
must think I'm awful." 

Etta began laughing, and the laugh cut right through Susan. 

"Don't make fun of me," Susan sobbed. "I can't stand it." 

Etta immediately felt sorry for laughing, but a smile still creased her 
face. "Susan, you are no more butch than I am. And you can bet one heck of a 
lot I'm no lezzie. I like fucking with men much too much." 

"What?" Susan gasped, her tears suddenly cut off. 

"You heard me," Etta told her. 

Susan stared at her, unable to believe What Etta had said. By the same token 
she was unable to get it out of her own head that she was a lover of 
females, only. 

Etta could see the confusion on Susan's face, and so she said, "You and I 
had better have a talk." 

Pulling back the covers on the bed, Etta said, "Climb in!" Numbly, Susan 
obeyed, feeling the cool sheets against her fevered young body. But the 
wonderful smoothness of the sheets did nothing to alleviate her inner shame. 
She lay with her head on the pillow, sobbing. 

Etta stared down at her for a moment, suddenly feeling like the older friend 
for the first time in their relationship. She stared at the girl 
compassionately, but with some amusement. Then she pressed her warm body 
against that of Susan. 

Susan felt the heat of her teenage friend's body against hers. She tried 
moving to the end of the bed, as far away as possible, trying to avoid any 
contact with Etta, still certain she was the one leading the redheaded girl 
into the ways of sin and corruption. Etta simply kept moving with her, 
staying near her. She spoke softly, saying, "Susan, I'm going to be totally 
honest with you." 

"What do you mean?" the brunette asked, looking at her. 

"Look, you're still a virgin, right?" 

"Yes," Susan nodded. "Almost all the girls our age are." 

"Well I'm not. I haven't been for a few days, now." 

"Gosh! Honest?" 

"Really and truly," Etta nodded. "I'm not going to go into details, but I've 
been fucked, and fucked solidly. And it's the greatest thing to ever happen 
to me. I love cock. I'm no lesbian, Susan. Neither are you." 

"But why did I come so quickly after you touched me?" Susan wanted to know. 
"And why did I have the urge to suck your vagina?" 

"Well heck, after looking at all these pictures and things, and taking a 
bath with me, you were probably aching to get laid. There was no real cock 
handy, and you felt good touching me, just like I enjoyed being touched by 
you. As for your mouth going onto my pussy, well, I had the urge to do the 
same thing to you. I guess it's just a natural thing, whether you're a male 
or a female." 

"Golly! I feel so sick and perverted," Susan insisted. 

"Oh come on, now," Etta snapped. "It was a normal, healthy feeling. Since 
when do men have a lock on pussy licking? I mean, just because all these 
photos show men eating women and women sucking men is no reason to assume a 
girl can't feel like sucking the vagina of another girl. If it's okay for a 
man and a woman to do things to each other, why isn't it okay for two girls 
to do things to each other." 

"But it's natural for a guy and a girl to do things ..." 

"But nothing," Etta insisted. "You were hot and bothered. So was I. We both 
had orgasms. Now what the heck was wrong with that? I mean, if we could've 
found a couple of discreet boys, we could've used them. But there were no 
boys around, just you and me." 

"But still ..." 

"But nothing," Etta told her. "I'm going to prove there's nothing wrong with 
you and me satisfying one another." 

"Not here," Susan begged. "Mr. Brummer might come home at any moment." 

"This is the best place in the world. Mr. Brummer won't be back until long 
after we're gone. You see, Mr. Brummer is the man who's been fucking me. He 
loaned me this room today, so you and I could get to know one another this 
way." 

"Etta, you planned all this?" Susan asked. 

"Uh-huh. Are you sorry?" 

"I don't know. I mean how could you do anything with a man like that?" Susan 
asked. "He's such a rotten person." 

"It's easy, after the first time," Etta told her. "Just as you'll find it 
easier to make love to me again now that we've done it once." 

"I ... don't ... know ..." Susan insisted. 

"Then you'll have to see for yourself," Etta told her. 

Susan's eyes were locked on Etta's pretty face. She felt something funny in 
the pit of her stomach, and her asscheeks seemed to clench together. Etta's 
eyes seemed to be shining, and they had grown so big as her face moved 
closer, blocking out the fresco on the ceiling. Susan felt heat emanating 
from Etta's body as it pressed against hers. Thigh pressed against thigh, 
and belly rubbed against belly. Etta moved lower and lower. Her nipples were 
massaging those of Susan, and then their breasts were cramming together as 
the nipples stabbed into each other's flesh like hot little knives. 

Etta's hands came up and cupped Susan's face between them. And then Susan 
felt Etta's soft, moist lips pressing against her own. The pressure was 
gentle and slow, at first, and everything was being done so gently Susan was 
not aware of precisely when Etta's tongue reached into her mouth. Soon the 
lingual digit was literally swimming through her mouth, making her shudder. 
She suddenly realized she was having difficulty breathing. Part of this was 
caused by Etta's body pressing against her own, but part of it was caused by 
the knowledge she was enjoying this, even though it was a forbidden kind of 
love. But this last thought was pushed aside as delightful thrills began 
being kindled in her shuddering loins, and sensations reverberated in her 
twitching vagina like it was a big bass drum being beaten again and again. 

Without realizing it, Susan responded, licking her own tongue out and 
stabbing it into the moist, heated depths of Etta's oral cave. She sucked on 
Etta's tongue as her own digit fought to push into Etta's mouth, and when 
Etta finally surrendered, withdrawing her tongue back into her mouth, 
Susan's tongue relentlessly pressed forward. 

Etta rolled one of her thighs up over Susan's loins, pressing her growing 
clit against Susan's hip bone. The feeling was sensationally electric, 
bringing smoldering ashes to life again as a flashing white flame seared the 
interiors of both girls. The flame was fueled all the more by the movements 
of Etta's fingers up and down Susan's spine. They fluttered over Susan's 
buttocks, touching them with the softness of hummingbird's wings. 

Susan felt herself melting in response to what Etta was doing, and she 
wanted to surrender herself entirely to the sensations building in her. Then 
Etta abruptly stopped kissing her, and Susan looked up with large question 
marks in her eyes. Etta lifted her body from Susan's, and the brunette felt 
a keen sense of loss. Now, for the first time, she realized Etta was right. 
And then Etta was back, her mouth descending until she had Susan's right 
nipple sucked between her lips. What the heck! If she enjoyed having Brummer 
suck on her nipples, there was every reason to believe she could make Susan 
enjoy her mouth even more. 

"Uhhhh!" Susan gasped, confirming what Etta had suspected. 

The moan was a sound of total delight. The brunette began writhing and 
wriggling, feeling the heated mouth sucking in more and more of her breast. 
And the fluttering doves of Etta's fingers had turned into taloned hawks. 
One hand tightly clutched Susan's other breast, the fingers pulling and 
massaging the nipple, playing with it, toying with it, teasing it, making it 
respond to all kinds of thrilling sensations, working in rhythm with the way 
her mouth was sucking on the other nipple. 

Etta's other claw-like hand had found the soft, juicy nest between Susan's 
aching thighs. Her long, teasing middle finger began sliding up and down in 
the simmering slot, avoiding contact with the clitoris at this time. Susan 
began grinding her pelvis, trying to push her sensitive clit against the 
other girl's moving fingers. The fingers remained in the crack, but didn't 
delve into the heated hole. Lubrication began seeping from the anxious hole, 
covering the hair-lined pussy lips, making the brunette curls glisten and 
shine. Etta's finger moved onto the other girl's perineum, then slid through 
the tight, narrow crack between her asscheeks to rub the button-like anus. 
Remembering how much her mother had enjoyed her father's fingering of her 
ass, and how much she had enjoyed Brummer's finger digging into her rectum, 
she felt it would be nice to tease Susan's asshole a little. Unrelenting 
pressure caused the finger to worm deeper and deeper into the anal cavity, 
and then Susan suddenly became aware of the finger. She tried grinding her 
hips in an attempt to escape from it, but it was too late. The moistened 
digit pressed a little harder, and with a small pop pressed into the anal 
orifice up to the first knuckle. 

"Annhhh ... unnnhhh!" Susan gasped, not sure whether or not it hurt. 

Etta didn't bother to wait to find out Susan's reaction. She continued 
working her finger deeper and deeper, while sucking Susan's breast farther 
and farther into her mouth, as if intent on swallowing the entire mammary. 
Susan felt the pain, but it was such ecstatic pain, she was unable to 
protest. She could feel the finger embedded in her narrow, writhing anus 
slowly moving from side to side in an attempt to go even deeper, but more 
depth was impossible. The finger was only so long, and no longer. The 
sphincter had completely captured the finger now that it was all the way it, 
and it moved with each motion of the digit. 

Susan moaned and gasped. What little pain she had been feeling now faded 
completely, and ecstasy began building in her rectum. 

Susan started trembling. Unbelievably, her body seemed to be building up to 
another orgasm. Her anxious body rapidly scaled the mountain of lust, 
reaching for the orgasmic summit. She wanted the finger rammed into her anal 
center plunging in even deeper. It moved itself in and out, making her 
rectal chamber vibrate, and then, just as the nerve-endings in her rectum 
were reaching for the apex of total delight, Etta's finger came popping out 
of her rectum. And then Etta was moving away from her. 

"Oh, no! NOOOO!" Susan cried in dismay, suddenly sitting bolt upright. But 
she lay back down again as Etta's hand pressed firmly onto her chest. 

Etta had slithered down until she half-crouched over Susan's supine form. 
Her soft, hot lips began kissing each of Susan's nipples very lightly, and 
then her tongue began moving lower, tracing wet patterns all over Susan's 
belly. Once the tongue paused to lap into Susan's navel. Another time it 
left a wet trail from one hip bone to the other. The flicking tongue slickly 
rubbed across Susan's lower abdomen, leaping out of the way to avoid Susan's 
pelvis as it traveled widthwise across the brunette girl's body. Susan tried 
writhing her body so the wet, slick, supple sword of Etta's tongue would 
come into contact with her vagina. Although she had never thought about a 
tongue against her pussy until today, Susan suddenly felt it urgent that she 
experience such a delight. 

Etta was choosing another path in the relentless journey towards Susan's 
seething cunt. She didn't know how or why she had suddenly become so expert 
at this. It was really her first time trying it, and she was doing much more 
than Brummer had ordered her to do. Yet she had the feeling Brummer very 
much approved of everything, or he would have walked in by now and stopped 
what was happening. He was hidden away somewhere, watching all that was 
happening, and his two videotape machines were recording all of this. 

As she kissed her way across Susan's pelvis again, Etta reached for a 
pillow. The strain was becoming too much for her neck. With her hands she 
separated Susan's thighs, and now began pushing the pillow under the full, 
rounded asscheeks of the pretty brunette. Now, with Susan's pelvis raised, 
Etta's hungry mouth began moving lower and lower. Subconsciously she 
wondered if looking at all the paintings on the walls had made her hungry 
for this. 

Susan felt lustful waves of thrilling sensation shudder through her body as 
Etta's mouth on the outer part of her upper thigh, licking, kissing, 
lapping, moving slowly inward. The tongue seemed to leave a trail of fiery 
sputum as it ran down the entire outer length of Susan's right leg. It 
licked its way around the sole of the girl's foot, then slowly began moving 
up the inner leg, leading to the gaping bog of her pink, hungry cunt. 

Susan lay back, her chubby body suddenly as stiff and as immobile as a 
telephone pole. She was aware her head was pounding into the mattress and 
her fingers were digging into her scalp. 

Etta's lips swept up, up, up, toward that ultimate juicy pit, and little 
whimpering sounds came mewling from Susan's lustincited throat. Etta's right 
hand slid tantalizingly along her other inner thigh, moving higher and 
higher, and then it was touching the wet lips of her vagina, jolting her. 
She could feel the fingers doing something. Yes, yes, the thumb and 
forefinger were parting her hot, moist cuntlips. Yes, yes, yes, and then ... 

"UNNGGGHHH!" Susan screamed, "Ohhhh, wowwwwww!" Her yell of helpless passion 
filled the soundproofed room as Etta's tongue, like hot summer lightning, 
flickered across her aching clitoris. The murky, throbbing sensations in her 
anguished cunt were building higher and higher. 

Etta had never done this before, but her tongue needed no directing. This 
was as natural to her as everything she had learned from Edgar Brummer. The 
licking tongue, moving as if it had a life all its own, lanced between two 
hot layers of well-lubricated vaginal lips, bringing low moans of delirious 
delight from the mesmerized Susan. Now the tongue began licking back and 
forth, then from side to side, as if it were a small, narrow phallus. There 
was much more to come though, as Etta nailed her tongue up and down in the 
sticky, clasping depths of her friend's shuddering cunt as her forefinger 
continued massaging the tender clitoris. 

Etta's other hand slid under Susan's rounded ass, and her extended 
forefinger slowly pressed against the brunette's hairless sphincter. This 
time Susan's body yielded immediately to the finger and it slid all the way 
in at once. Susan never even realized it was there, her mind was 
concentrating so strongly on what was happening to her vagina. Etta moved 
the finger in Susan's ass in a circular direction, stretching the anal 
cavern, and suddenly she was adding her middle finger to the forefinger. 

"Yessss ... yess ... yess ..." Susan began screaming, "MORE, MORE, MORE! Do 
it some more. I want MORE!" 

Susan shouted and screamed, panting insanely as the world suddenly began 
closing in on her. Everything seemed to happen all at once. The paintings 
seemed to close in on her, and the reflection of her body being lapped and 
fingered seemed to be falling down on top of her. They all came together and 
began wildly spinning in an insane circle, running together, exploding, 
blasting, erupting inside her. 

"AAIIEEYHH!" Susan screamed, yelling again and again as if she were a 
demented madwoman presiding over her own wonderful destruction. Her hands 
were gripping Etta's short hair and she was slamming her pelvis into Etta's 
face again and again, pounding her body up and down, up and down. She was 
trying to ram her friend's entire face; her nose, her mouth, her cheeks, and 
her forehead into her own vagina as hot, creamy, colorless foam came rushing 
from inside her. Her heels beat a wild tattoo on the bedcovers, and her 
pelvis undulated like a shuddering pile driver gone totally out of control. 

She came, then came again, then again, and again, and again. It continued 
that way until she lost all sense of consciousness, finally blacking out on 
the bed. 

Etta, whose body was dying for satisfaction, looked up, and there was the 
naked Edgar Brummer who had silently walked into the room. She fell on her 
back, opened her thighs, and blessed him for plunging his hard cock into her 
making her reach five separate, thrilling culminations before he, himself, 
came. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

"You see," Edgar Brummer said to Etta the following Sunday afternoon, "we're 
all prisoners of our fleshly desires. Under normal circumstances you would 
never have done what you did with your friend Susan, would you. But tell me, 
having done all that, do you feel the least bit ashamed?" 

"No," Etta admitted. "No, I suppose not. I guess I really liked it." 

"Just as she liked it. Just as she will like doing things with me," Brummer 
insisted. 

"That still remains to be seen," the teenage girl said. 

She was wearing a pink dress, and she wondered when Brummer would tell her 
to take it off so they could get down to fucking. She had become addicted to 
cock, and he was right about his being the only one she would trust at the 
moment. 

Finally becoming impatient, she asked, "When are we going to fuck?" 

"We?" Brummer asked. "Today," he told her, "we are not going to fuck. Today, 
I am going to fuck your friend, Susan. You still have a few lessons to learn 
about humility. One of the things you must always remember is, in this house 
I am the king. My word is law." 

"And if Susan refuses to fuck for you, will you rape her as you did me?" 

"I told you, different strokes for different folks," Brummer insisted. 
"Raping you was a lifelong ambition for me. I wanted to bring you pleasure 
through pain. Not so Susan. Susan despises me much more than you ever did. 
Pain would be too good for her. Susan needs a lesson in degradation and 
humiliation. You have done your part in starting to help teach it to her. I 
must admit that hot bath idea was better than anything I might have thought 
up. Etta, if you were five years older I'd consider proposing to you, 
because you have as devious a mind as I. And if you were married to me, you 
would never be able to plot against me." 

"I, plot against you?" she asked, surprised. 

"Don't try to deny what's going on in that devious little mind of yours," he 
snapped. "You can take torture, and you can take pain, and, like Susan, you 
don't enjoy being humbled for any length of time. You will always plot 
against me, but I know you, so any plot you may devise I will foil." 

"And if I were older, what makes you think I would marry you. I could never 
love anyone like you." 

"Love is for peasants," Brummer told her. "If you were married to me, you'd 
consider yourself free to do with men and boys what I have done with you and 
Susan. And if you actually did fall in love with one of them, you'd use my 
money to 'keep' him. In spite of your age, Etta, you and I are well suited 
to one another. I keep thinking I'm going to tire of you, but with the 
passing days I realize you're someone special. I may never tire of you. Who 
knows? If we continue long enough without anyone discovering us, perhaps one 
day, many, many years from now, I will marry you." 

"And those tapes you've made are supposed to keep me faithful to you until 
then?" she asked. 

"Good heavens, no. You and I are past the blackmail stage. What will keep 
you faithful to me is my mentioning you in my will." 

"You are going to mention me in your will?" Etta asked. "I thought you said 
Susan was more like you. Wouldn't she be a better mate for you, later on?" 

"To answer your first question, Susan and I are two like poles. We repel one 
another. Where I feel attracted to you, and even a genuine fondness for you, 
Susan and I would come to hate one another if we ever had to live together. 
Although Susan is going to be the second female in my self-styled harem, any 
time we join, it will be a match of hate. I know it and accept it." 

"Are you trying to say you love me?" Etta asked. 

"I just told you, love is for peasants. But I do feel an affection for you 
over and above the lust I've always harbored, which is why I'm mentioning 
you in my will." 

"You mean you're going to leave me money if anything happens to you?" she 
asked. 

"In a sense. I'm not going to go into the particulars at this time, but I 
will see to it you never want for food or shelter, providing you meet 
certain conditions which will be spelled out in the will." 

"Conditions?" 

"Any other girl might have a hard time meeting them. You, on the other hand, 
will probably consider it a labor of love." 

"Why talk about a will at a time like this?" Etta wanted to know. "You're 
only forty, and you probably have a long life ahead of you." 

"Perhaps," Brummer told her. "Perhaps. In any case, it's always good to be 
prepared. Now, my dear, you'll have to leave. Today is the first step in the 
total humbling of Susan." 

Etta left, returning to her own home. Her parents and brother were gone for 
the day, and she had no idea what she would do. Normally, she would have 
called Susan and the two of them would have gone to the movies. Obviously, 
Susan was going to be busy. 

She was amazed at how easily Brummer had seen through her. Yes, she really 
was plotting some way to get out from under his control, but what Brummer 
did not really know was her desire to go on using his cock. For all his 
being despicable, the man had been totally honest with her. It was a rare 
quality in anyone, man or woman. She knew he was aware of how much she 
enjoyed sex, and he was probably aware, to some extent, how important his 
particular cock had become to her. But he probably believed she'd be willing 
to give it all up just to get away from him. Even though he claimed they 
were beyond the blackmail stage, she was willing to bet he would be more 
than glad to blackmail her to keep her where he wanted her. 

Etta knew she could probably eventually figure out a way to escape from this 
man's clutches. But in doing so, she would probably have to forsake using 
his cock, ever again. Oh sure, there were plenty of other cocks in the 
world, and she had no doubt she would be trying them out when she got older, 
but he had addicted her to sex, right now. In fact, the more she thought 
about it, the more she realized, she would need something to satisfy her 
today. Maybe, just maybe, she could try using that dildo she had found in 
her mother's night table the other day. It would probably be better than 
nothing. And as for Brummer, well, the idea of escaping from him no longer 
seemed important. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Susan didn't like the idea of going to Edgar Brummer's house alone, but the 
little note he'd sent her also had a tiny snapshot of her with her mouth 
pressed to Etta's pussy while Etta's hand was between her thighs. Susan felt 
Etta was too naive to be involved in anything so underhanded. After all, the 
redheaded girl was thirteen years old, like herself, only Etta was one of 
those "nice" girls. Even after having been soundly fucked by Edgar Brummer, 
Etta remained a "nice" girl. Though she could easily expect something nasty 
from a man like Brummer, Susan was certain her friend wasn't part of this. 

When she arrived at Brummer's and the skinny man let her in, she saw Etta 
wasn't there, and so she was now certain Brummer had something up his sleeve 
all by himself. Her body might have been thirteen, but her brain was more 
like thirty. She'd find a way out of this, eventually. 

Brummer ushered Susan into his den, saying, "I'm glad you came, Susan. It 
will give us an opportunity to talk." 

"You didn't invite me here to talk," Susan snapped back at him. She was 
angry, because just as Brummer had recognized how like himself she was, she, 
for the first time, realized how much the two of them were alike. 

"You're right," he nodded. "I didn't invite you here to talk. I invited you 
here to fuck you. And that is precisely what I'll do before you leave here." 

"I guessed as much," Susan bit at him. "You're not the kind of man who could 
be satisfied with one girl." 

"You're right," Brummer nodded. "But each girl has to be different from the 
others. You and Etta are as different as two girls can be. Etta and I had to 
fight before she would surrender her virginity to me. I anticipate no such 
nonsense from you." 

"You mean you think I'm going to strip and spread for you, just like that, 
huh?" 

"That's just what I mean," Brummer told her. "And you know it." 

"I could pick up something and hit you with it," Susan volunteered. 

"You could, but you won't. That photo was part of some long videotaping, and 
you have no idea what I've done with the rest of the tapes. I'm blackmailing 
you," he admitted. "And I'm going to enjoy every bit of it." 

"You like fucking us young kids, huh?" Susan asked. 

"Oh, yes," he nodded. "And I'm going to especially like fucking a nasty girl 
like you." 

"Do you think you can fuck the nastiness out of me?" 

"I certainly hope not. It would change you completely, and I'd never want 
that. No, Susan, no matter how much you'll enjoy what I'm going to do to 
you, you'll hate coming back here each time. You're the kind of girl who 
hates being dominated, and that's precisely what I intend doing with you." 

"For how long?" she asked, as he opened the wall leading to his secret room. 

"For as long as it pleases me," he told her, ushering her into the room. And 
then, without another word, he allowed his hand to slide along the upthrust 
swell of her full breast until his open palm filled itself with the full, 
surging mound of her soft breast. 

Susan stiffened, standing beside him, feeling revolted as he touched her, 
hating him for doing this to her, but hating herself for responding to his 
touch. Her breath began coming faster and faster as his middle finger 
reached out and traced a path around her nipple, sending little needles of 
delight through her. Then he rubbed the rigid, rubbery peak of her nipple 
through her flimsy blouse as he admired her ample, girlish figure. The mere 
fact that her body was so different from Etta's made her attractive to him. 
She was what was known as a "zoftic" girl. In spite of her excess weight, 
her skin was smooth and warm, and her flesh was tight and resilient. Her 
short, black hair allowed him to kiss her neck, and he enjoyed feeling her 
shudder again as he did so. But he could also hear little gasping sighs 
coming from her lips. 

Susan was angry that her body should betray her so easily. She had wanted to 
show him how much she despised him, and here she was, already reacting to 
the touch of his fingers. His thumb and forefinger were tweaking her nipple, 
sending lightning-like sensations flashing through her. Now her body was 
shivering, and inwardly she hated herself even more, because she was already 
surrendering to his deft touches. It had been bad enough to simply hate him 
for being the despicable person he was. Now she hated him even more, seeing 
so much of herself in him, making her realize she was also despicable. Worse 
yet, she would never come to terms with herself. She would always remain as 
she was, just as Brummer had always remained as he was. 

He pinched her sensitive nipple again, and another involuntary shiver ran 
through her from her toes right up to the follicles of hair on her head. She 
felt his searching hands move around her anxious body; a body definitely 
roused and brought to life ever since Etta had made love to her, yesterday. 
She felt him unbuttoning her blouse while unzipping her skirt. Both garments 
fell to the floor as she remained standing there. He made her sit on the 
edge of the bed as his finger slipped between her flesh and the elastic band 
of her panties. He reached his fingers down far enough to touch the top of 
her rectal crease, then slipped his finger between her buttocks, pushing it 
deeper and deeper into the crevice until he touched her anal pucker. He 
rubbed the rubbery muscle, feeling her writhe, and he enjoyed the touch of 
it. Susan cursed him, silently, hating the fact that she was enjoying it, 
too. 

She felt him massage her sensitive, naked flesh in slow concentric spirals 
as his hand eased up the smoothness of her back. He paused, unsnapping her 
bra, and Susan refused to look at him, closing her eyes and continuing to 
stare straight ahead. He pulled her bra-straps down her arms, and she lifted 
them enough for him to get the bra off. 

She felt him stop for a moment and opened her eyes. She could see the way he 
was staring at the fullness of girlish body, and for the first time didn't 
feel inferior because she was overweight. He looked at her the way most men 
looked at women they coveted, and she felt glad about that, even if he was a 
despicable man. 

She watched his right hand reach out and rub the twin half dollars of her 
aureole. His palm on her nipples made them grow, becoming more pink than 
brown. The cool air and his hot hand, added to the pressure of his eyes, 
sent burning flames roaring through her body. Flashes of rippling 
electricity blasted through her again and again, shooting down into her 
sex-starved belly, fanning the embers of the fire Etta had first started, 
the previous day. 

Yes, she thought, yes. I need a cock, even if it's one attached to someone 
as vile as Mr. Brummer. His touch was sending all kinds of thrilling ecstasy 
through her, and she knew he was gloating because little by little he was 
making her want him, if only for now. 

His extended fingertips now lightly brushed across the soft, warm, beckoning 
swells of her pectorals, first one, then the other, before finally clamping 
tightly over her right swell, squeezing the tender, alabaster-white flesh 
between his moving fingers. 

"Come on," she heard him say. "You like it and you know it. I think we 
should stop playing games at this point. I want to hear you tell me you like 
it. So go on and say it, Susan." 

"You rat," she whispered. "You know I like it. Don't stop, don't stop." 

Her thighs were opening and closing like a concertina, and her full, 
rounded, firmly fleshed buttocks now rotated against the mattress. Susan 
could feel the heated dampness spreading between her thighs as the cheeks of 
her overly rounded ass gripped the bedcovers beneath them. His touch was 
firmer and more sure than Etta's, and he was driving her insane with 
passion. God! How she hated him for making her feel this way. More, she 
hated him for enjoying the knowledge he could reach her. She felt the scream 
welling up in her throat. The delicious sensations were driving her wild, 
and his fingers were teasing her body, trying to force that scream out of 
her. 

Susan offered no resistance as he pushed her back onto the bed, stretching 
his body out beside hers, relentlessly stroking her breasts, building pyres 
of passion inside her. His fingers ran over her large white mounds again and 
again. 

"Unnnnhhhh!" she gasped, unable to contain herself from moaning as his 
fingers roughly squeezed her tenderly pulsating nipples, mercilessly playing 
with them. 

And then his hands left her feverishly jutting breasts, slowly easing down 
along the rounded plane of her belly. Susan automatically arched her body 
upward when he pulled on the elastic of her panties, making it easier for 
him to slide them off, and now she hated herself even more. His palm 
delicately brushed against the ebony hair covering her mons until his hands 
made maddening contact with the warm, moist, sucking lips of her trembling 
cunt. She felt the goose pimples rising on her flesh and knew he could see 
them, and it was another reason for her to continue despising him. He was 
subjugating her, humbling her, making her feel like some toy he could 
handle, manhandle, or even throw away. She trembled convulsively, gasping 
and sighing. 

"Like it?" Brummer asked. 

"Unnhhh! Does it ... ooooooooh ... matter?" she asked, her mind starting to 
wander, no longer thinking about who he was and how he was shaming her. She 
felt herself ecstatically floating as his fingers continued twiddling the 
lips of her vagina. 

She writhed as he tantalized the soft, wet curtains of her vaginal portals, 
venturing to gently ease a finger between the tender flanges. Susan gasped 
as her anguished loins automatically pumped themselves toward his moving 
hand. She felt his middle finger carefully, gently exploring the entire 
burning length of her simmering virginal slit, running down through her 
asscheeks to press at her rectum, then easing over her sensitive perineum, 
and back into her vaginal enclave. He felt the tight, moist grip of her 
sucking cunt as his middle finger rested at the entrance to the taut tunnel. 

Susan felt her soft, pink, inner walls unhesitatingly open to the pressing 
of his outstretched middle finger. It hungrily swallowed his manual digit, 
and though she was tight inside, she pulled it three quarters the way in 
before he was stopped by her hymeneal membrane. He could have punctured it, 
just as he'd used a finger to rip out Etta's maidenhead, but he wanted the 
pleasure of tearing this piece of tissue with the head of his throbbing 
cock, a little later. The necessary pain would come at the end, and by that 
time she would be so enraptured by him, she would hardly even feel it. 

"Like it?" he asked again, rotating his finger in the narrow sucking 
confines of her virginal pussy. Susan's only response was another shuddering 
gasp as she began spiraling her body around the inthrust finger. Lord! This 
totally evil, ugly man really knew how to make a girl feel good. He was even 
better than Etta. 

She felt her vaginal passageway being stretched even wider as he slowly 
slipped a second finger into her. It, too, only went in as far as her 
cherry, carefully avoiding touching the sensitive membrane as it rotated in 
the sucking depths of her seething vagina. Susan uttered a muffled gasp of 
delight, humping her young body up and down. 

"Tell me," Brummer insisted, "or I won't keep this up. A man likes to know 
when he's doing something right. Do you like this?" 

His fingers were wiggling wildly inside her soft flesh. They scissored open 
and closed. 

"Yes, yes, yes," she finally gasped. "I love it, and you know it. Why do you 
have to make me say it?" 

"Because you are my love-slave," he replied. "When it comes to sex, you will 
do anything and everything I command. You will do it willingly and without 
hesitation, because you know the longer you take to fulfill one of my 
desires, the longer it will take for you to feel your own completion." 

As if to confirm his words, she felt his slip his ravishing fingers from her 
hot, squeezing internal depths, moving his fingertips around until he felt 
the tiny pellet of her extended clitoris. Using a thumb and forefinger, he 
urgently squeezed the ultra-sensitive organ as the sex-starved teenager 
writhed and gasped, wriggling next to him on the bed. He rolled the extended 
nodule between his fingers as if delicately playing with a pomegranate seed, 
knowing if he clamped down too hard, it would squish its juice out all over 
and be compressed. Susan gasped and struggled to breathe as shuddering waves 
of thrilling desire and animal arousal tore through her body with powerful 
currents. 

Her naked pelvis continued grinding against his hand as she wantonly sought 
more fulfillment, feeling him twist and pull her small, tender, sensitive 
clitoris. She moaned and screamed her delighted feelings, feeling thrilling 
agonies course through her entire system again and again. Her chubby thighs 
bounced wildly up and down on the bed, and her rounded asscheeks tried 
excavating a hole in the feather-filled mattress. 

"Yes, yes, yes," she gasped. "I love it. I admit it, I love it. Ohhhhhhhhh 
... don't stop, please ... don't ... uhhhhh ... stop ..." 

Her shrill voice was absorbed by the soundproof paneling in the walls of the 
room, but it was loud enough to make Brummer happy. 

Susan was an extremely sensuous girl. Eventually, a mere look would be 
enough to cause her come. Right now, the simple fondling of her clitoris 
began building her to an instant climax. She felt his fingers continue 
working on her clit, but every now and again he moved his fingers up and 
down the entire length of her vaginal trough, stroking the inner parts of 
her sopping lips as well as the sensitive bud of her shimmering 
man-in-the-boat. His fingers moved faster and faster in the seething trench 
of her womanly wound. 

"Unnnggghhh ... aaaggghhh ..." she began gasping, and then her rounded 
asscheeks rose high off the bed as if her tender body were possessed by a 
million little demons. She ground the sopping length of her seething pussy 
against his hand again and again as sighs and moans carelessly slipped from 
between slightly parted lips. "EEEEYYYYAAAAGGGGHHHH! UUUGGGHHH! 
AAAANNNNGGGGHHHH!" she screamed, in the throes of an anguished climax the 
like of which she had never experienced in her life, not even when Etta had 
lapped her pussy. There was something special about the way this man was 
handling her, and much as she hated him, she knew he was good for her. In 
passionate strains, she arched her body tautly, letting the cords in her 
thighs and neck stand out as she jerked again, and then again, as the 
current of fulfillment alternated through her tremblingly stiff body. 
Orgasmic juices came gushing from between her thighs, soaking his fingers, 
his palm, and his wrist. She felt her oily lubrication seep into the crevice 
between her asscheeks, running over the roundness of her buttocks. Slowly, 
very slowly, she eased down from the summit of satisfaction, letting her 
buttocks slowly sink back to the bed. She lay there gasping, looking at the 
leering face of the man who had brought all this to her. 

Hoarsely, she gasped, "That was fab. That was really fab. Golly! No wonder 
Etta goes for you. Oh you may be one sonofabitch, but you really know how to 
make a girl feel good." 

Brummer wordlessly grinned at her, slowly easing his fingers from between 
her thighs, wiping the slippery goo all over his hand on her inner loins. 
Then he got up from the bed and slowly began removing his own clothing. 

"We have a long afternoon ahead of us," he told her. "There are a lot of 
things to try." 

"Look," Susan said to him, "Can't we have a truce, this afternoon. Maybe I 
will go back to hating you once I leave here, but don't you think it's kind 
of dumb for us to hate each other while we're like this?" 

"If I thought it possible for you to stop hating me, I'd willingly agree. 
But let's be honest, Susan. The only time you really stopped hating me was 
when you were reaching for your climax. Right now you feel a certain amount 
of disgust toward me and the only thing keeping you from voicing that 
disgust is the knowledge I'm going to bring you more and better 
satisfaction." 

"I suppose," she nodded. 

"And do you know what makes your climaxes with me so intense?" he asked. 

"No," she admitted. "I thought I would feel this way with just about 
anyone." 

"Did you feel this good with Etta?" 

"No," she confessed. 

"Of course not. It's the very hate you feel for me that feeds your lust. And 
that's why I enjoy you as much as I do. I feel the same hate for you that 
you feel for me." 

"But you hate everyone," Susan pointed out. 

"I despise everyone, I look down on everyone. I think of them as ants fit to 
be stepped on. But the hate you and I have for one another is something 
entirely different. For all the hate we feel for one another, we recognize 
each other as worthy antagonists. Our mutual hate fans a mutual respect. And 
even though I intend thoroughly humbling you today, I'm well aware I would 
never be able to do this without the natural feelings of your body. I'm 
playing on your weaknesses. And what's more, you know that I have as much of 
a weakness for you. Were it not for the video tapings I have of you and 
Etta, you would be trying to humble me as certainly as I'm doing it to you." 

"You really are a bastard, aren't you," Susan hissed. 

Her body glistened with hundreds of thousands of tiny beads of perspiration, 
and she saw his thick, elongated cock. It was almost as long and as fat as 
the cock of the marble faun in his bathroom. She realized he would use that 
battering ram to pound her virginity out of her, and the masochistic urges 
inside of her could hardly wait for it to happen. Though he was humbling 
her, by his fucking her he was admitting he had a desperate need for her 
body. True, he had fucked Etta before her, but she knew with a certainty 
Etta was the key to her. Just as he could see through her, she could see 
through him, and though she knew he felt a strong feeling for Etta, it was 
nothing compared to the loving hate he would have for her. She knew this 
because she hated him more than ever, but that hate was a kind of love. 

"Fuck me, you rotten bastard," she snapped. "Fuck me good, and show me just 
how much I'm going to depend on your cock." 

But Edgar Brummer was not ready to fuck her. Not yet. He had other plans. 
After all, much of his pleasure was in his total domination of her. At no 
time would he allow her to get the upper hand or speak to him in a dominant 
tone of voice as she was trying to do, now. She might be able to do this 
later on in life, when she found other lovers, but with him it would be 
different. 

Getting to his feet, he reached out and grabbed Susan by the short, black 
hair on her head. He pulled her face close to his body, giving her a close 
look at his throbbing cock, letting her see all the winding veins and 
pulsing arteries, as well as the thousands of tiny capillaries lacing their 
way through his massive organ. 

"Take a good look at it," she heard him say, and she stared, seeing the way 
the bulging glans leaked slippery balm. It covered the entire surface of his 
pulsing head, making it shine as if it had been lacquered. 

She inhaled, smelling the strong, musky masculine scent he emitted. It was 
arousing, and she could feel the heat pulsating between her thighs all over 
again. He was going to ram this wonderful member of his between her thighs 
and fuck her. Yes, yes, it was exactly what she wanted. 

"Sit on the edge of the bed," he commanded. 

"Why?" she asked. 

"Do it!" he insisted, and his tone was such she instantly obeyed, sitting, 
staring at his pulsing wang as he moved closer. 

"Suck it!" he insisted. 

Susan's mind reeled for a moment. She couldn't believe she had heard him 
correctly. He had to be crazy. Only whores did things like that. It was one 
thing to humble her, but to make her do this was not only intolerable, but 
unconscionable. 

Aroused as she was at the sight of the trembling penis, Susan began trying 
to think of a way out of this. She needed some excuse to refuse this vile 
thing. She couldn't. It was one thing to lick a vagina, especially a vagina 
that had just been soaked in a hot tub. All she had to do was extend her 
tongue and probe. But this massive pole would be pushing into her mouth, 
ramming into her throat, choking and gagging her. And when he reached his 
own climax, he'd be shooting that white stuff she'd read about in all her 
father's books. He'd be pumping it down her throat. That was disgusting. 

"No ..." she said, choking. "No, no, I won't do it ..." 

But Brummer was determined this step in Susan's total humiliation and 
domination would be performed. 

"I said suck it!" he snapped. "I'm not playing games. Put it in your mouth 
and suck all of it in." 

Brushing her ebony locks from in front of her face, Susan once again stared 
at the massive cock. All the while her mind was working, desperately seeking 
some way out of this horrible thing. But as her face came closer and closer 
to the wavering phallus, she realized there was no way out. She knew she 
would have to do it. He had suddenly become the most important man in her 
life, and not just because of his blackmailing videotapes. He was the one 
man who was exactly like her, and she knew she needed to learn from him if 
she intended surviving. It was easy for a man with money to survive, but she 
was a girl, and her father was not rich. She had to learn all his tricks. 
But as she stared at the huge pike, so heavy it almost sagged, she struggled 
to hold back the thick lump in her throat. She felt terrified and repulsed 
at the thought of doing what he commanded. The mere idea of that massive red 
cock shoved into her throat made her want to throw up. 

Brummer stepped as close to her as he could, his hands reaching out and 
cupping the back of her head, determined to bring her forward. The head of 
his schlong dangled mere inches from her wet, trembling lips. He moved 
forward the littlest bit more, letting the angry-red glans lightly brush 
those tantalizing pink lips. 

"Come on, Susan. It's all yours. Do a good job and I'll reward you by 
fucking you, after. Come on!" 

He tugged on her head, but she turned her face to the side, and the wet 
point of his cock smeared a colorless line of lubricant along her cheek. 
Brummer was patient. He didn't intend forcing Susan, because to force her 
would be a victory for her. She had to swallow his cock willingly. 

Susan closed her eyes, shutting out the sight of the bullet-headed phallus. 
Maybe if she didn't look at it, it would go away. She felt Brummer's hand on 
her cheek, smearing the lubrication around, even rubbing some of it on her 
nostrils. And when she opened her eyes, she once again stared into the 
sightless eye of the throbbing, dangling cock. 

"Come on, Susan," he told her. "You know you're going to do it." 

His tone was calm and so precise, it angered Susan. Who the heck did he 
think he was, telling her she knew she was going to do it? If he wanted to 
make her suck that thing of his, he was going to have to force her, because 
there was no way she was willingly going to swallow that tool of his. 

"I expected some resistance at one given point or another," he told her. "So 
I thought you should know, I'm going to make your parents a present of a 
Sony Beta-max. You know, it's a machine that can videotape TV programs and 
play them back at a later time. Not only that, but it can play other 
videotapes, as well. And I'll give you one guess what tape will accompany 
the machine when it first arrives at your house." 

"B-but you'll be hurting Etta, too," Susan pointed out. 

"Come on, Susan," Brummer laughed. "Do you really think I care whether or 
not I hurt Etta? The important thing is to hurt you! Now, I am not going to 
use physical force on you. I will not pry your mouth open, nor will I shove 
my penis down your throat. You will open those lips of your own free will 
and accord, and you will suck my cock into your mouth. You will do this 
without any physical prompting from me of any kind." 

"I thought I was a bitch with other people," she whimpered. "You put me to 
shame." 

"Not really," he laughed. "I'm just a little older than you, and I've had 
more experience at hating. Now, let's stop all this bullshitting and get 
down to it. Suck!" 

Her mouth opened slightly as she sobbed. Little by little her agonized lips 
parted, forming an arousing oval that made Brummer's cock shudder all the 
more as he stared at her lips. Slowly she leaned forward, surrounding the 
thick, rubbery head with the warm, moist cover of her lips. The head was 
halfway between her lips when she stopped moving forward, sucking and 
pulling it, feeling the seeping flow of his lubrication wet her lips even 
more. Little by little she forced herself to take in more of the huge 
phallus, feeling it twitch against her tongue as it became stiffer and more 
erect. She could taste the swollen head flexing and enlarging even more as 
it became even harder. The young girl made sure not to move her head from 
side to side, since the thick, swollen pole was already spreading her lips 
and cheeks. Her tongue pressed against the knotted underside now, where the 
head joined the rest of the staff. She could feel the mighty pole quivering. 

"You're doing fine," she heard Brummer's voice urging. "But this is only the 
beginning. Come on, honey. Stop giving both of us such a hard time. In a 
short while you'll get used to this, and you'll love it. You won't be able 
to start a fucking session without giving a little head, first." 

Susan realized he was right. Resistance at this point was totally 
ridiculous. Besides, she was first beginning to enjoy what she was doing. 
Maybe she was even sicker than other people had claimed. The idea that he 
was thrusting his swollen meat pole into her mouth should have nauseated 
her. But it didn't. On the contrary, the more she sucked on it, the more she 
was beginning to enjoy it. No matter how degrading it seemed, and no matter 
how disgraceful she appeared, she was beginning to like it. She felt the 
churning ball of lumpiness in her throat suddenly dissolve as the knot in 
her belly began easing. She closed her wet-walled lips all the more tightly 
around the thrusting cock, teasing the rough, knobby head with her tongue, 
feeling his hands loosen their pressure on the back of her head as he felt 
her mouth take a rhythmic sucking. He pressed very gently now, as if keeping 
his balance by holding his hands on her head. 

Brummer looked down at the long, thick pole of cock protruding from his 
groin into her mouth, feeling the throbbing pressure of her warm, wet lips 
and moving tongue. He loved the sight of her pursed lips, puckered 
enticingly around his cock, sucking in half the length of it at the moment, 
and he felt a slight twinge of disappointment that she hadn't fought him a 
bit more. He had come to accept her as his feminine counterpart, and kept 
forgetting she was only a young girl. He kept thinking she was as old as, 
and as experienced as, himself. Hell! He would have really relished putting 
on a little more pressure by showing her the stills he had made from the 
tapes, which he would have threatened to scatter all over school if she 
didn't obey him. But she was like him in another way, too. Her practical 
mind had shown her the folly of resisting at this point, and she had done 
what she'd had to do. 

There wasn't time for him to continue enjoying these thoughts. He intended 
getting the maximum pleasure from this, his first blowjob. He thrilled to 
the sight of her brunette hair moving forward some more, engulfing more of 
his throbbing cock. And then her head was sliding back, revealing his 
spit-moistened staff. Damn! Damn! Damn! Even if this was his first blowjob, 
he could tell this was her first time doing it. She was being very 
amateurish about it. In a way it made him feel good. His first blowjob was 
being handled by a girl who was sucking for the first time. This one was a 
virgin in every respect, but he would alleviate her of that condition in 
every way possible. 

Susan felt his hands slide down to her shoulders, running over her white, 
perfect, unblemished skin. Heat was burning its way through her, and though 
his hands felt warm they almost fell away from her, her own flesh was so 
hot. 

It was plain, though she was feeling erotic tingles running through her 
body, she wasn't sucking with all her heart and soul. She felt him lift his 
hands and press his palms against her cheeks. He pressed hard, so the 
insides of her cheeks rubbed the throbbing stalk of his probing prong, and 
she felt him start pumping his hips back and forth, pushing the point of his 
prick even deeper into her sucking mouth. If he pushed any further, he'd be 
shoving his meat into her tender, narrow gullet. The bulbous, lust-swollen 
tip rubbed against the back of her palate, and she could feel his pressuring 
hands crush her teeth around the solid poker. She thought the pressure of 
her teeth would be hurting him, but he seemed to thrive on the scraping of 
his skin by her dentures as it pushed in and out of her tightly clamped 
lips. She could feel how sensitive the nerves in his finely tuned penis 
were, shuddering and trembling at the least little flick of her working 
tongue. The pressure of her lips seemed to be involuntarily becoming 
tighter, and the very touch sent shivers of surging animalism roaring 
through his shuddering loins. She could feel him moving forward, trying to 
clamp her face between his plunging thighs. 

"Yes, yes, yes," he gasped. "You learn quickly, Susan. That's nice. That's 
very nice," he gasped, and she felt him pumping his throbbing cock all the 
more deeply into her throat. Her warm, slippery, enveloping lips now slid 
along the entire length of the masculine prong each time he rammed his hips 
against her pretty, tear-stained cheeks. She could sense his flesh stalk 
getting thicker and harder each time he plunged it into her mouth, 
stretching her lips and cheeks way out of shape. 

Her eyes looked up, along the flat length of his skinny belly, and she could 
see his face, leering down at her. She was doing her best to gobble in the 
entire length of his pulsing penis, and this was one time she would gain 
some small measure of satisfaction from him. She could tell by the look on 
his face he didn't expect her to really take the last little inch into her 
mouth. He wanted to make her gag and choke a little by trying to force it 
in, but she would fool him. She would relax her throat and swallow the last 
inch of cock, even licking his balls with the tip of her tongue. As long and 
as thick as his prick was, it just wasn't long enough to chastise her as he 
wished. 

He put his hands on the back of her head and rammed forward again, expecting 
her to react by gagging, choking, and pulling away. Instead, she kept going 
forward, swallowing every last bit of his throbbing cock. He could feel it 
press into her pharynx, and his rubbery head was getting a massage he'd 
never expected. Her throat muscles were as strong as the muscles in Etta's 
asshole, and he felt her esophagus start to really squeeze his cock. Christ! 
She was going to be one helluva cocksucker. 

Susan sucked strong and hard, desperately trying to keep her throat loose 
and open so she wouldn't gag on the thick, swollen meat forcing its way into 
her gullet. Golly! All this was so new to her. And the meat in her mouth was 
so swollen and big. And each time she pushed forward, she could feel his 
skinny abdomen slap against her cushioned lips. His cockhead was rubbing her 
palate so hard, the outer layer of skin was being rubbed off. Her throat was 
becoming more and more raw. Susan wondered how much longer she would be able 
to keep this up before she gagged and strangled to death. She knew fighting 
would only make it worse as the heavy thickness filled her gullet again and 
again. The hardest thing was fighting back the choking coughs. She didn't 
want him knowing what he was doing to her. This was her only triumph, at the 
moment. Granted, it was a minor one, but any triumph was better than none. 

Slowly, little by little her throat muscles relaxed more and more, and she 
fought back the gasping, choking gags, and now the penis was sliding in and 
out a bit more easily. She felt him pulling it all the way out, letting her 
breathe for an instant, and then he would start stroking it in, pushing it 
through her widely ovalled lips, sending it on its journey deep into her 
tender pharynx. She had to angle her head so her throat was directly behind 
her head, because his penis refused to bend so much as an inch. Lubricated 
with her heated saliva, it slid into her gullet more and more easily. The 
slippery traces of his penile lubricant added to the lessening of friction, 
but between his oiliness and her saliva, she found it necessary to swallow 
all the more often. Mixed emotions rampantly charged through her body. She 
didn't know what to think or feel or do. The tightened flexing of her throat 
muscles was having an effect on his pulsing cock. She knew he would shortly 
come, and different sensations were working through her body. She knew his 
cock would spurt the stuff all over her tongue and throat, and she was mixed 
up as to whether or not she really wanted to taste it. A part of her was 
screaming for her to hurry up and get it over with, while another part of 
her actually yearned to taste the spunk. She remembered reading in her 
daddy's books how all the loose women who did things like this enjoyed the 
seminal taste. On the other hand, once he came, she would no longer be able 
to suck his dick. It would shrink and no longer be the solid spur she was 
now sucking. And she had to admit, the more she did this, the more she 
enjoyed it. 

Susan almost gagged, then swallowed more saliva mixed with lubrication. When 
she coughed a little, she felt him tug the pulsing penis from inside her 
mouth, as if thinking he had won again. He rubbed the penile head over her 
lips, inside and out, rubbing her teeth and gums, and now she could smell 
the essence of his throbbing lubrication as it oozed from the tiny slit in 
his pulsating tip. His penis painted her lips and teeth again and again with 
his slightly saline oil, leaving everything shining and glistening. But she 
was not beaten, because she knew she had not really choked. He had not won. 
She was aware he would ram his dong deep into her throat as he came, hoping 
to make her gag on his sperm. But she would fool him, she would swallow it, 
all of it. She had read how men pumped so much semen into a woman's mouth it 
came dribbling out. But she wouldn't let it happen to her. She would swallow 
every last drop, and that would be another victory for her, proving she 
could handle whatever his penis could unload. 

He slowly pushed it into her mouth again, and she could feel certain 
telltale twitches. She could also see his tighten-up balls impatiently 
jumping up and down in his scrotum. He rhythmically, slowly, carefully 
continued pumping his penis between her lips as her tongue rubbed the 
underside all the more intensely. She savored every delicious inch of his 
instroke now, sucking wildly on the pulsating wang as it disappeared very 
slowly into her throat. She wanted to feel every screaming little pulsation 
as the sperm ran through the thick tube in the underside of his cock. Yes, 
she could feel that tube twitching, right now. Soon it would start pumping 
the flow out into her mouth, down her throat. 

Susan could see his swollen testicles were straining in their tightened, 
hair-covered leather sac. She felt his hands pressing more strongly on the 
back of her head, but she knew he wasn't aware of what he was doing. He held 
her head tightly, absolutely motionless as he pounded his penis in and out 
of her mouth, slamming the thick head as far down into her throat as it 
would go. It sank deeper and deeper into her tight, constrictive gullet. And 
then the pulsations in his cock became powerful, and Susan said to herself, 
He's coming! I can feel it! 

Her hand reached up and felt his balls, and she could feel hot, shivering 
bursts exploding in them as something seemed to be moving inside them. Then 
she felt the heavy tube in the underside of his stroking phallus pulsate 
even more strongly. He was sinking his long, thick cock as far into her 
throat as possible, scraping her lips with his pelvic hair. His iron grip 
held her head perfectly still and in place and she waited breathlessly, 
feeling the surging sperm rise higher and higher in his cock. 

"AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!! UUUUGGGG!" he screamed sharply, emptying his lungs of 
air at the same instant he blasted his semen-filled balls into her mouth. 

Susan, poised for it, tensely waiting, began sucking immediately, savoring 
the rich, steamy flavor as she drank her fill from his penile fountain. It 
was rich, pungent and delicious, and she wanted every wonderful drop of it. 
Every bit of the precious flow oozed down her gullet, into her swallowing 
esophagus. Her lips tightly sucked the long, thick, quivering cock, gulping 
the gushing spurts of spend as they flooded her mouth. She sucked like a 
starving calf at its mother's udder. Her arms wrapped themselves around his 
thighs and pulled him closer as his throbbing cock began shrinking. She 
pulled him closer and closer so she could keep the entire extension in her 
mouth. Her tongue-tip lanced out and washed his balls, making his knees turn 
to jelly, and it took all his strength to keep him from collapsing against 
her. She swallowed, swallowed every last drop. And when he finally did pull 
away from her, there was one last sticky drop on the top of his cock which 
stuck to her lower lip, creating the stringy impression of a string from a 
spider's web. It clung to her chin as well as her lip, then broke off from 
his penis, and her tongue snapped out and licked it all up. 

"Keep licking it," he told her. "Make it grow again." 

Obediently, she fell forward on her knees and sucked his limp penis into her 
mouth. For more than ten minutes she sucked and licked and bit and chewed, 
and then, little by little it began growing again. It took another five 
minutes before it attained any degree of hardness, and when it did, he 
shoved her back on the bed, raising her heavy thighs over his shoulders, 
then pressed his own knees into the bed, and without giving her a chance to 
realize what was happening, rammed the full length of his thick spike into 
her creaming virginal snatch. He sundered her hymen with no effort at all, 
and kept on going into her, hoping he'd given her some small measure of 
virginal pain. It would have been a shame for Etta to have suffered and for 
this one to feel nothing. 

All Susan felt was delight. She was so caught up in the sexual turmoil 
inside her body, when his cock sank into her, widening her narrow walls and 
breaking her maidenhead, she felt nothing but sheer rapture, and before he 
could start stroking, she began climaxing, reaching seven separate peaks in 
a matter of one minute, screaming, "AAAIIIEEEYYYAAAGGGHHH!" 

The clenching of her vaginal tube around his thrust-in cock brought on his 
second orgasm almost immediately. He was amazed at her sexual capacity, and 
wondered if it possibly exceeded Etta's. This was something he would have to 
find out. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

Neither Susan nor Etta was summoned by Edgar Brummer during the next week, 
and both were curious why he delayed so long. They knew he wasn't trying to 
be kind to them. That wasn't his way. But because of their forays with him, 
the two girls now felt closer than ever. 

The following Saturday, both girls received calls from Brummer telling them 
to be at his house at noon. Somehow, the man had been careful and had called 
when no one else was home, so no one else knew Brummer had called the two 
girls. 

Though it was nearly the end of March, the weather was still chilly. Both 
girls wore heavy coats over their mini-dresses, and since neither was 
wearing panties, their pussies were very cold, as were their delectable 
asses. 

Once inside Brummer's house, the two girls hung their coats in the hall 
closet and walked back into his den. The secret wall had been slid back, and 
Brummer was waiting for them in what he termed, his erogenous zone in the 
house. He was wearing a robe, and both could tell he had nothing else under 
it. 

"Today," he told them, "I wish to learn the various traits about each of you 
girls. That is, I wish to discover your various sexual aptitudes. You'll 
begin by playing with one another, then I'll join in." 

Susan didn't waste any time. She simply undressed, while Etta poured herself 
a glass of soda from a nearby cart Brummer had thoughtfully provided for 
them. He knew they would need a lot of energy, and since they would be 
perspiring heavily, losing a lot of body liquid, the soda would help 
replenish it. 

"Now," Brummer told them, "play with each other for awhile." 

Etta shrugged, knowing she would do whatever the man wanted, not merely 
because he wanted it, but because it was fun. But she felt it would be more 
fun to drag Brummer into everything immediately. So as she undressed, she 
asked, "Susan, has he ever gone down on you?" 

"No," Susan replied. "But he made me go down on him." 

"Was it fun?" Etta asked, removing her bra. 

"I like it," Susan nodded, looking at Etta's nakedness, enjoying the sight 
of her as much as she had enjoyed looking at Brummer's cock, once she'd 
gotten over hating the idea of sucking it. 

"Was Susan as good as I was?" Etta asked Brummer. 

"I thought it was the man who was always worried about how good or bad he 
was," Brummer laughed. "To be truthful, I can't say which of you was better. 
The two of you were so different. And as for my lapping your pussies, if and 
when it suits me, I'll do it. I keep trying to remind you girls, I am the 
king here. You will both do as I say. You will neither of you give me a hard 
time. You, Etta, will do as I say because in spite of my personality, you've 
learned to like me a little. And you, Susan, will do as I say, because you 
despise me and want to prove you're better at my own game than I am." 

The two girls had sidled over to where he was standing near the bed, and 
while Etta began rubbing his spine, Susan ran her hand over his throbbing 
cock. It was as solid and as ready as ever. 

"It sure is a biggie," Susan remarked. "You know, something like this, 
attached to any other man, would have me aching to suck in a matter of 
seconds. You're right. I do hate you as a person. I always will. But I'll 
always love your cock. I can't blame it for being attached to you. It isn't 
the fault of the penis." 

Her hands had pulled it out, brushing his robe aside, and she was caressing 
it, feeling it, rubbing it, making it grow even stiffer, while Etta 
continued kissing him and rubbing her hand up and down his spine. Etta 
opened his robe and swept it off his shoulders, then leaned down and kissed 
the tiny masculine nipples on his chest. She licked her tongue across them, 
watching them quiver, and for the first time, Edgar Brummer began feeling a 
little unsure of himself. He had unleashed a pair of sexual monsters in the 
form of two young girls. To look at them, one would never guess the 
sensuality lurking inside them. 

He couldn't let this go on. He was the one in control. He had to make the 
two of them understand that. 

"Etta," she heard him gasp, "I ... want you to stop this and start playing 
with Susan. Do it!" 

But the lust-driven redhead only laughed and ran her hand over his belly, 
making him sit on the bed. She kissed his navel, her eyes looking down and 
watching the way Susan was fondling his penis. She could see the way the 
bright red instrument was twitching and pulsating, and she realized the two 
of them together could defeat the man's mastery over them. She saw him 
gasping and writhing, attempting to get off the bed and escape their 
predatory hands and mouths. This was too good. Etta knew it was time to 
press the advantage they had over this man. The sooner they did so, the 
sooner he would realize that sexually, he was no match for the two of them. 

The air resounded with derisive, girlish laughter as he felt his head being 
slammed back against the bed. He couldn't quite understand how things had 
gotten out of control, but all the breath seemed to have left his body. He 
lay there, almost senseless, stunned as the two girls crawled all over him. 

"Torture is what you need," Susan snapped. "And since you like my mouth and 
tongue so much, I'm going to use them to torture you." 

While Etta straddled his chest, pressing the hot, wet lips of her cunt 
against his nipples, Susan knelt at his feet, and with her tongue began 
licking the soles of his feet, tickling him, making him laugh and guffaw. He 
rolled and shuddered, trying to shake Etta off him, but she would not be 
thrown. Susan's tongue was driving him wild, and he began screeching, 
pleading with them to stop what they were doing. 

Then Susan began licking his ankles, first one, then the other. And her 
tongue climbed a little higher, licking his shins, and then his inner 
thighs, and Brummer calmed down a little. But sensations were piling up 
inside him, and he realized he was much hotter than even he had suspected. 
Not that it mattered. He knew something neither girl knew. This would be 
their last foray together. In a way, he was grateful the girls were taking 
the initiative. 

Etta sat forward a little more, and her red haired pussy was only inches 
from his chin. He could smell the delicious aroma of her youthful 
femaleness. 

"Come on, now," Etta chided. "You like this and you know it. Don't deny it." 

Her fingers were caressing his face, while Susan's fingers were teasing his 
thighs and hips. Their touch was like the bites of tiny little soldier ants, 
and he wriggled on the bed, knowing he was going out of his mind with lust 
for the two of them. 

The two girls continued sexually tormenting him, teasing him, treating him 
as if he were some kind of animal at bay. Susan could see his upstanding 
like a smoldering cannon, loaded, but unable to fire because it had not yet 
been ignited. His throbbing balls swelled with seed. He would fuck the two 
of them, one at a time, and while he was fucking one, he would eat the 
other. Yes, yes, that would be perfect. That way, everyone had a least two 
orgasms, though he was certain each of the girls would have four climaxes 
for one of his. 

Etta felt herself being swept off his chest as he suddenly sat upright. She 
watched as he flung Susan over onto her back, parted the girl's chunky 
thighs, and nailed his heavy cock right into her. 

"Ohhhhh!" Susan gasped. "That feels good, so good." 

Before Etta could realize what was happening, he had grabbed her and had 
thrown her down on top of Susan, face-down. 

"Kiss her!" she heard him command. "Kiss her, now!" 

The two girls opened their mouths and began tongue-dueling, but even as she 
sucked Susan's tongue into her mouth, Etta felt the lower half of her body 
being lifted. She felt her knees resting on Brummer's shoulders, and then 
she shrieked a loud, "OWWWAAOOOWWW!" as he sank his mouth into the seething 
depths of her creaming pussy. His tongue licked strongly, and his pelvis 
flicked forward, stabbing his huge pole into the simmering depths of Susan's 
body. 

Susan gasped and continued kissing Etta. 

"He's got me nailed, all the way," she whispered to the redheaded girl. 

"His tongue's eating me alive," Etta replied, and began kissing Susan all 
the more strongly. Her hands caressed the brunette's swollen breasts as her 
tongue swirled through the girl's sucking mouth, and she could feel Susan's 
hands pulling on her own nipples. She wriggled insanely, feeling Brummer's 
head push against her soaking slot, his tongue stabbing in again and again. 
Her body writhed madly, pushing back into his face as her thighs clamped 
tightly around his cheeks. The feeling of his tongue into her simmering 
center was driving her mad with need. 

She could feel his hands around her buttocks now, squeezing them, pulling 
them, kneading them. And then a forefinger sank into her ass as his tongue 
continued working through her flaming slot. It made her kiss Susan all the 
more solidly as her own hands all but pulled off the heavier girl's tits. 
She squeezed and rubbed and massaged, and she could feel Susan wildly rotate 
beneath her. 

The thrilling drill of his tongue into her seething quim made her rotate her 
buttocks wildly, as her knees continued pressing into his shoulders. Flames 
of fiery passion built higher and higher as her fingers continued massaging 
Susan's breasts, and her mouth clung to Susan's sucking lips. 

Brummer struggled to stay on his knees between Susan's shimmering, full, 
founded thighs. His eyes burned into the slim, curvaceous buttocks of the 
girl whose thighs were wrapped around his neck while his tongue continued 
lapping into her juicing twat. It felt fabulous to sink his hard, stiff 
prick into the seething depths of one cunt, while being able to bury his 
face in the soft, thrilling folds of another. 

Susan felt his long, thick cock running far, far into her, reaching more 
deeply than ever before. She was glad he had waited a week before doing this 
with her again. During most of the week she felt the soreness between her 
thighs caused by the loss of her virginity. He ran his throbbing cock in and 
out of her tight quim with the power and speed of an express train. Had he 
fucked her this way any sooner, she was certain she would have felt pain. 
The mere fact that enough time had elapsed for her interior to heal ensured 
her of continuing thrills as his heavy penis continued slamming deeper and 
deeper, filling, and re-filling her wet, slick, vaginal cavity with his mass 
of columnar meat. 

Etta felt herself slipping. She realized it was taking a lot of strength and 
stamina for Brummer to hold her in that position. She twisted a little, and 
as her body rolled from Brummer's shoulders, she fell onto the bed, her 
hands pressing Susan's swollen mounds all the harder as her knees hit the 
soft mattress. She took her mouth from Susan's and rolled away from the 
heavier girl, giving Brummer total access to her body. The skinny man leaned 
forward, pressing his almost sunken chest against Susan's rich, full tits, 
and the brunette felt him sinking his cock all the more deeply into her. 
This made her raise and lower her buttocks all the faster, trying her best 
to keep pace with the way Brummer was fucking her. 

Etta crawled around behind Brummer and pressed her cheek against the 
mattress, watching the way his pole continued to ride in and out of Susan's 
cunt. This was the first time she had ever had such a close view of such 
goings-on, and seeing the red cock slice between the pink labia made her 
hotter than ever. She leaned forward and pressed her face against Brummer's 
moving balls, sucking them into her mouth, one at a time. She knew she was 
making the man react by the way he began shaking and shuddering. Her tongue 
washed his hairy scrotum again and again. She paused for a moment to pull a 
loose hair out of her mouth, then she continued sucking his balls. Her 
tongue licked each testicle in turn, then reached out and lapped at the base 
of his cock on each backstroke. This only speeded up Brummer's fucking of 
Susan, because he was enjoying the thrill of her tongue on his penile 
underside. He rammed in with harder, faster strokes, pulling back to feel 
the licking lingual digit of the sensual redheaded girl. 

Etta decided she wanted some of the fucking, too. She moved around front 
again and slid between Brummer and Susan, once again face-down, so her firm, 
round tits could press into the large, upstanding balloons attached to the 
dark-haired girl. Her cunt slid lower and lower until it came to rest on 
Susan's pelvis, and each time he powered into the heavier girl, Etta could 
feel his hairy groin rubbing against her leaking cuntlips. 

"Ohhhhh Godddd!" she gasped. "That feels wonderful." 

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Susan yelled in a commanding voice. 

Edgar Brummer was not ready to turn command of his sexual activities over to 
anyone, and Susan's voice, ordering him to fuck, decided him as to what to 
do. He would fuck them both, first one, then the other, then one, then the 
other, and he would keep on alternating between their sticky, honey-sweet 
cunts, prolonging the time for either of them to reach her climax. 

Susan felt her clitoris being rubbed by the extended clit of Etta's pussy as 
Etta moved her body back and forth. The friction made the two clitorises 
reach for each other and rub again and again, as if they were two matches 
with their heads being rubbed together. And with the tight, greasy cock 
slamming into the depths of her seething vagina, she felt thrills as never 
before. 

And then part of the thrill was gone as the long, fat cock slipped out of 
her. She thrashed around, reaching down with her fingers, trying to find the 
hard tool and ram it back into her. 

Etta felt Susan twisting and writhing, and the pressure against her own 
clitoris began increasing. Ohh Godddd! It felt so damned good. But another 
feeling seemed to make everything feel even better. The thick, blunt-nosed 
cock of Edgar Brummer's phallic wand began nosing its way into her trembling 
vagina. It moved in slowly, and Etta felt the tight, squashing depths of her 
shuddering cunt close tightly around the intruding phallic pole, squeezing, 
and squeezing, and squeezing it. 

Edgar immediately sensed the difference between the two cunts. Etta was a 
tiny girl with a tinier vagina, and no matter how often it took his thick 
reamer, it would return to a narrower size than Susan's. Pushing into the 
hot, wet pool of buttery flesh sent chilling thrills through Brummer. It was 
a good thing Etta was the girl on top. Her smaller ass felt delightful 
against his belly as he leaned forward and rammed himself into her more 
restrictive vagina. Slowly, very slowly, his massive meat pushed its way 
into Etta's clutching cunt, feeling her wriggle with maddening passion. 

Yes, Etta would always be the more appreciative of the two girls. He could 
hear the way she was sighing and truly enjoying the powerful thrusts of his 
moving cock. She was trying to suck his magic wand even more deeply into 
her, and had she been deeper, she would have succeeded. But his thick cock 
was already resting against the entrance to her womb, and if he pushed any 
harder, he would hurt her, stretching the cervix and moving into it. Etta 
felt him pounding in and out, in and out, feeling Brummer's fingers tug the 
moons of her rounded asscheeks apart so her hairless asshole could feel his 
pubic curls tickling it. Etta writhed and squirmed on top of her friend, 
rubbing her aching clitoris all the more arousingly against Susan's extended 
nubbin of sensation. 

"Oh, Christ!" Susan gasped, feeling the way her friend's clit massaged her 
own. "I wish to God there was a fourth person here, another man, under me, 
with his cock thrust up into my cunt. Then the four of us would really go 
crazy." 

"That's ... uhhhhh ... something you girls can try ... uhhhhh ... a little 
later on," Brummer grunted. 

Pulling his enlarged dork from the squeezing, compressing interior of Etta's 
hot cunt, he moved his body lower and sank it back into Susan's sucking 
pussy. The brunette's flaming cunt grabbed his cock and swooshed it right 
back in, clinging to it as if it had fingers inside. She felt so thrilled 
about it, she opened her mouth to gasp, but Etta's tongue lanced right in, 
cutting off all sound. She felt the swollen, tingling phallus ride into her 
again and again, while the more slender, shorter girl continued rubbing 
against her pubis, massaging her thrilled clitoris with her own budding 
piece of flesh. 

Etta was going wild. It had been a full week since she had been fucked. She 
liked Susan very much, and she wanted to see her friend enjoy everything, 
too, but she was overanxious for a good climax. What Brummer had done to her 
was more cruel now than when he had first started. He had awakened her body 
for the need for a climax, and then he had completely cut her off for a full 
week. Once or twice she had tried using her own finger, but that hadn't been 
much good. And listening to the sighs and gasps of her parents every evening 
helped even less. She needed a cock bringing her total satisfaction, and she 
needed it, now. Her teacher's hairy pelvis, rubbing her asscheeks wasn't 
helping too much, either. All it did was build the fires a little higher in 
her body. 

And then Brummer's solid prick was sawing out of Susan's crushing pussy and 
slowly sinking back into hers. Etta forced herself up onto her knees, 
keeping her clitoris away from Susan's, and she pounded her ass back against 
the thrusting cock with eager avidity. 

Susan, realizing she was getting almost nothing from this right now, 
suddenly slid her body out from under Etta's, turned around, and slithered 
back under her, headfirst. Her face came to rest under Etta's burning pussy, 
and she could see Brummer's thick, fleshy log pushing in and out of the 
tight, elastically stretched pussy. Lord! The sight was fantastically 
arousing. 

Susan wrapped her arms around Etta's ass and pulled the shorter girl back 
down, and because Etta's cunt clutched Brummer's cock so tightly, Brummer 
was pulled down with her. Etta could feel the pull of Susan's arms and 
wondered what her friend wanted to do. Little by little she lowered her 
seething cunt against Susan's face, and then felt her friend's tongue 
lapping at her clitoris, and licking at Brummer's throbbing cock each time 
it pulled back. 

Susan's tongue tickled Brummer's balls and lapped at the outer pink flesh of 
her friend's shuddering cunt. She lapped hungrily like a cow at a salt-lick. 
But lying as she was, her vagina was now exposed to Etta's mouth, and Etta 
hurriedly sank her face into the simmering depths of the pink lips 
surrounded by black hair. 

Sparkling sensations were starting to build up in Etta's body, and she 
trembled back and forth, moving her body all the more rapidly, using her 
vaginal interior to suck on the length of throbbing cock thrust into her 
while Susan's tongue lapped at her inflamed, aroused clitoris. And all the 
while her own tongue sank deeper and deeper into Susan's simmering snatch. 
Golly! Susan tasted so good. She even fancied she could taste the meaty 
essence of Brummer's cock inside Susan's pussy. 

Greater and greater sensations were mounting in her young, teenaged body. 
Brummer had a hand on her ass, and he was sinking a finger into the 
tightness of her asshole. He moved it in and out, keeping time with the way 
his thrusting cock was plunging into her swampy pussy. Thrills charged 
through her at a faster pace than ever as the slamming, punching, drilling 
cock sank farther and farther into her creaming cunt, and Susan's tongue 
continued massaging her clitoral extension. Sucking on Susan's vaginal 
softness enhanced the feelings even more. She lapped and humped her own body 
wildly back and forth, sweating, straining, feeling the orgasm inside her 
just waiting to come out. 

And then, there it was, bubbling up and boiling over, slamming into her 
anguished body, making her tremble as she howled her lust into Susan's 
swampy interior. 

"AAIYAGHHH!" 

"No more, Edgar," she begged. "Please, please, please, I can't take it. Stop 
pumping into me. I'm ... uhhhhh ... ultra ... ahhhh ... sensitive ... 
OOOOH!!!" 

Brummer tugged his swollen, sizzling phallus from inside the redheaded 
girl's constricted cunnus, and as she rolled out of the way, he sprawled on 
top of Susan, pressing his penis down into her throat, while his face sank 
into her shuddering pussy. His tongue leaped out and stabbed into her coral 
interior, slurping up a combination of her seeping oil and Etta's saliva. He 
licked his tongue through the depths of her pussy again and again, drinking 
her heavy flow of colorless wine, and Susan trembled with delighted thrills. 
Her mouth was clogged with his lancing cock, and she swallowed and sucked, 
thrilling to the feeling of his penis down her throat. Now it was no longer 
a question of loosening her gullet enough to take the entire thickness of 
his ramming cock. Now she had to tighten her gullet again and give him 
maximum feeling. 

Brummer's hands were reaching way back, grabbing the girl's nipples, pulling 
on them, massaging them, making her buck wildly as his face sank deeper and 
deeper into her creaming muff. He lapped at her clit then stabbed his tongue 
into the inferno of her simmering pussy. The tongue wiggled its way deeper 
and deeper, rotating inside the creamy funnel of her draining temple. 

Lord! Susan thought. Edwin Brummer was no one-shot charlie. He was building 
the fascinating feeling higher and higher in her body, and she realized, 
much as she hated him, she needed him. She was too young to go searching for 
other cocks. Oh Godddd! This one tasted so delicious. 

Susan felt her climax mounting higher and higher, and each time she expected 
to hit the summit of her orgasmic mountain, she found herself having to 
climb a little higher. She sucked the pulsing cock all the more solidly, and 
realized she was about to have a monumental orgasm. It would totally eclipse 
everything she had ever felt, before. 

The thrill was carrying her to greater and greater heights, and her mouth 
sucked all the more fervently on the heavy wang, trying to bring him off 
with her. She wanted his cock to shoot now. She wanted it badly. She 
realized she loved the taste of his semen. Maybe she would love the taste of 
all semen in years to come, but right now his was the only sperm she had 
drank, and she ached to swallow more of it. Her own feelings continued 
rising, higher, higher higher, and then it hit with all the power of a sun 
going into nova. 

"UUCHUGGHH!" she gagged, her mouth crammed with cock as the total climax 
simply smashed into her, making her scream, buck, and bounce. Her cunt rose 
and fell, leaving the tender, loving sensation of his mouth and tongue. And 
then she yanked her mouth from the heavy wang and shouted, "EEYAAGGHH!" A 
second climax, and then a third slammed into her aching body, and she 
shouted them out, wondering if the loudness of her voice would shatter the 
frames on any of the paintings. 

"You didn't make him come," Etta chastised. "He has to come, too." 

"Why?" Susan asked, realizing now that she was satisfied she could take her 
revenge by doing absolutely nothing for Brummer. Maybe he would be able to 
get back at her later, but she was as spiteful and as vindictive as he, and 
seeing a chance to hurt the man, she was taking it. She grabbed her clothes 
and started dressing, knowing Brummer would not use the tapes to harm her 
because she was certain he would want to fuck her again. 

But even as she walked into the bathroom to wash up, Etta, seeing the pained 
look on Brummer's face, bent over his supine body as it lay full length on 
the bed. She knew this was too cruel a punishment for any person. When 
Brummer started something with her, he always finished it. He never left her 
hanging. She had no intention of leaving him that way. 

"See," Brummer gasped. "She hates me, and she'll always hate me. It's in her 
nature. But you don't hate me, Etta. You might not love me, but you don't 
hate me." 

"No," she agreed. "I don't hate you, at least not anymore. How could I hate 
anyone who introduced me to all these wonderful feelings. Lie back and enjoy 
this." 

She breathed on his stiff cock, making it stand up even taller. He moaned 
incoherently as her tongue licked out and slipped across it, washing off his 
drying lubricant and Susan's saliva. Then her oral digit moved lovingly over 
the head again and again, licking down the length of the underside, then 
licking up again, stopping only to wander through the curl-covered pelvis 
for a moment. Her tongue lapped across the top part of his pulsing cock, 
washing the glans again, then moving down to his balls, licking them with 
care and tenderness, covering the sac with warm, searing salivary juices. 
She felt his body shuddering and trembling, and she could see the way he 
could no longer remain still. 

Her lips opened wide, and then ovally sheathed the head of the throbbing 
penis, enclosing it entirely in the warm, velvet clutch of her sucking 
mouth. 

"Uunggh!" he gasped, fidgeting on the sofa as her mouth began massaging the 
trapped head. Her tongue wiped the stolid pole again and again while her 
hand fell and began massaging his doughy testicles. Her other hand gripped 
the base of his cock and began tugging rapidly. She knew she would never be 
able to fit the entire length of his throbbing phallus into her small mouth, 
but she could make sure all of his hard cock felt some sensation. Her mouth 
sucked the phallic dome with a precision kind of cadence, popping it in and 
out of her mouth as her hand continued jerking on his stiff rod, and her 
other hand kept squeezing his heavy testicles. Gosh! They felt heavier than 
ever. They must have really been loaded with sperm. 

Lifting her mouth from the immense rod, she licked the underside with her 
tongue again, lapping all the way down to his balls and washing them 
repeatedly. Then her tongue once again rose to the top of his throbbing 
erection, and once more her lips wetly enclosed the hot, swollen head 
between her jaws. 

"Unnhhh! God! God! God!" Brummer gasped, his body aflame with unsatisfied 
sensations. 

Etta's mouth was too small for her to be the wild cocksucker Susan had 
proven herself to be. But considering the smallness of her mouth, she was 
doing a superb job. He knew he had guessed right when he'd said Etta was the 
one girl who would learn to like him. 

Raising his head, he stared down at the redheaded girl's lust-contorted 
face. He could see she was actually enjoying what she was doing, and she 
wasn't merely doing it to please him. The sight of his throbbing cock, now 
pushed a third of the way between her rounded, ribboned lips increased the 
burning sensations in him tenfold. Now she pushed her face a little lower, 
sucking in half the rod, and then, as her hand continued stroking up and 
down, her mouth also began bobbing up and down. 

Half his rigid cock length began disappearing into her mouth again and again 
as she worked to push even more of him into her sucking oral cave. She 
worked slowly, pushing her face down as far as it would go, taking as much 
of the thick member as she could into her mouth. It depressed her tongue and 
scraped her palate and she still loved it. It was the cock that had tamed 
her while bringing her untold pleasures many grown women never experience. 
Etta was wise enough for her years to realize how fortunate she was. In 
satisfying his own lusts with her, Edgar Brummer had turned the teenage girl 
into a truly sensuous woman. She was still growing, maturing, and 
developing, but sexwise she was far more advanced than women four or five 
times her age. And the most interesting part of it was, she was still 
innocent enough to believe there was absolutely nothing wrong in all this. 

She slid her mouth as far as she could, feeling the bulb of his rounded tip 
press into her throat, and then she slowly lifted her mouth until only his 
corona was behind her teeth. As she sucked the inflated phallic spear, she 
could see his face looking at her, while he stared at her bobbing head. The 
lewd sight built unproportioned thrills in his groin and he hungered to feel 
his spunk shooting into her throat. 

Etta continued furiously sucking him, and she could sense the heated swirls 
moving through his groin. She had him twitching and writhing now, totally 
out of control and beyond anything he had ever known. Every muscle in his 
body was tautly stretched, and Etta felt he would literally break. His hands 
flew up and tangled themselves in her hair, and he uncontrollably tried 
ramming her mouth even lower on his stabbing cock. 

Etta heard him grunting and gasping as his body writhed even more wildly. 
She could tell he was no longer rational, and sensed the desire in him to 
completely cover her throat with his shooting seed. Suddenly she felt as if 
he was totally unaware of her identity. She was merely a receptacle for his 
cock and she would shortly be the container for his sperm. He was trying to 
ram the head of his thrusting cock into her gullet, and her tongue, on the 
underside of his throbbing cock, could feel the way her mouth was ready to 
accept the spewing contents of his shuddering cock. 

"Gonna come! Gonna come!" he gasped. "Ohh Godddd! I can feel it. I can feel 
it. I'M GONNA COMEEE!" 

Etta was totally overwhelmed with his need for satisfaction. She had always 
heard him speak in perfect English, before. He had never used a "gonna, 
coulda, shoulda, woulda," but he was using one now, the sensations in his 
body were so intense. 

"AAYAIGGHH!" he screamed, a long, loud guttural groan tearing itself from 
deep inside his chest. He felt the first tearing away of heated semen from 
the moorings inside his testicles. He sensed the headlong rush of the 
seething goo as it moved along the tube in the underside of his aching cock. 
And it came spewing out from the slit in the tip of his penis, cascading 
into Etta's sucking mouth. He desperately humped his hips higher and higher. 
Her lips tightened around the throbbing, palpitating shaft, and her throat 
began sucking and gulping, sensing the incredible desperation of the semen 
to enter her gullet. His cock squirted hard and long, and for awhile it 
seemed as if his instrument would not sink. She continued sucking, moving 
her face lower and lower as his penis finally wilted. 

And then his cock was empty. He was totally drained, and he lay there for a 
moment, just staring up at the ceiling. 

"Did I do it all right?" Etta asked. "I mean, that's the first time I've 
ever done that." 

"You were wonderful," he assured her. "And you justified my faith in you, 
just as Susan justified my faith in her." 

"Don't hurt her," Etta begged. 

"I?" Brummer asked. "Not I. In fact, here, in the night table drawer are all 
the videotapes. You can do what you will with them, but if I were you, I'd 
leave them there." 

 CHAPTER TEN 

The local people threw a celebration two days later. Edgar Brummer was dead, 
and the people coming in to replace him had already promised to behave in a 
more moderate way. The man had developed cancer without knowing it, and by 
the time he had gone to a doctor, it was too late to operate. 

Susan was happier than most, knowing she was no longer a slave to the one 
man who seemed to know her better than she knew herself. Etta was sad. She 
had felt sorry for Brummer, just as she had felt sorry for Susan when she 
had first befriended her. She was the only person who would miss Brummer. 

Six months after Brummer's death, both Susan and Etta were asked to come to 
the heart of the community, to an attorney's office. The man had been Edgar 
Brummer's attorney. Neither girl ever remembered his name, and it was the 
only time either of them saw the man. 

"I'll be brief," the attorney told them. "Mr. Brummer's will has just come 
out of probate, and the two of you are mentioned in it. I don't quite 
understand what it's all about, but Mr. Brummer left a substantial sum in a 
bank account to pay the taxes on his house for the next ninety-nine years. 
He claims Etta, the redheaded girl, may live in that house when she leaves 
her parents' home, later on. He feels since it's right next door to her 
father's house, she may want to live there." 

"Yes," Etta nodded. "I suppose when I grow up, I would very much like to 
live there." 

"And he says you're to have free use of the house even now, even though I 
have no idea what he means by that." 

"I know," Etta told him. 

"And he left a letter for you," the attorney said. "He claimed Susan would 
also be mentioned in the letter. It is to be read by the two of you, 
privately, so I'll step into the outer office while you read it." 

Etta waited until the attorney was gone, then she tore open the envelope, 
and read the letter. 

Dear Etta, 

It is something of justice that I found you at the same time I learned I was 
going to die. I should hate to see my collection of art either destroyed or 
broken up, so I'm leaving it all to you, on the condition that, when you 
become of age, you seduce young boys in that same room the way I seduced 
you. And you are to go on doing this until you finally marry. You will 
marry, you know, you're much too precious a gem to be bypassed. 

As for Susan. She is the female version of myself. I doubt that she will 
ever marry. She has no compassion, no feelings for others, and no warmth. 
She will need looking after. Therefore when she becomes of age, if she has 
nowhere else to go, she will be allowed to live in the house with you, but 
only under certain conditions. First, she is to be soundly whipped with a 
willow branch once a week until she is forty years old. Don't ask why. 
She'll deserve it. You'll see. Second, you are to use her if you have more 
than one male being seduced at a time. Her body is to be totally ravaged as 
much as possible. Although she will love being ravished at the time it is 
happening, she will hate it afterward, knowing it happened because I, in 
essence, reached out from the grave to make it happen. 

If Susan does not agree to these terms, she is not to live in the house, nor 
is she to indulge in any of the sex festivities you will enjoy there over 
the years. In life, I was of no value to anyone, save to you. In death, I 
hope to be of value to an entire host of young men whom you will make happy 
because of me. Think kindly of me now and then, 

 EDGAR. 

 "That lousy rat," Susan snapped. 

"Well I don't know about you," Etta told her, "but the idea of owning a 
house with no bills for the rest of my life sounds terrific. So I'm going to 
do what Edgar says. What about you?" 

Susan looked at her for a moment, grimaced, then said, "Come on, let's get 
going." 

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Etta asked. 

"To find a willow tree with a lot of thin branches," Susan replied. 


THE END
