Rape Riot
by Mark Townsend


FOREWORD 

The racial unrest in Los Angeles, in the section of the city that was and is 
known as Watts, erupted one hot summer night three years ago. A stunned 
nation awoke the next morning to the screaming news in pictures of what was 
taking place there, of a world gone crazy. The nation had never experienced 
anything, had never imagined anything, like it before. 

The blacks of the ghetto seemed intent on burning the entire section of the 
city to the ground and ridding themselves forever of the white man who they 
were calling WHITEY and CHARLIE or simply, THE MAN. They fought and looted 
and burned and shot at the police and firemen and the national guard troops 
that the then Governor Brown ordered into the area. They unofficially 
declared war. 

Their war was the most different that has ever been fought since the 
beginning of time. They, the blacks of the ghetto, simply wanted to be 
recognized as human beings, wanted the world to know that they were men and 
women with courage and dignity and that as of that time they were laying 
claim to their responsibility to themselves to achieve their goals. That 
their hate erupted and seemed to be the main source of their strength was 
unavoidable. Deep down, under layers of hate that had built up for four 
centuries, there was love, a love of self and of their fellow men, that went 
deeper than the outer layer of skin, penetrated the blackness of the 
whiteness of the epidermis. 

There were many acts of courage and gallantry performed by the blacks and 
there were many crimes committed against them in the guise of AUTHORITY. 
These, some of them, came to the attention of the nation in the aftermath of 
the rebellion: some went unnoticed and unrecorded for all time. The author 
of this novel believes and tries to prove that love is the strongest force 
abroad in this world, that it knows no color lines or admits to any 
barriers. 

Deborah, the Jewish girl who has been discriminated against because of a 
religion she did not know, awakens slowly but surely to the idea of love of 
her fellow man, the black man, and her love of whiteness is tested to the 
extreme limit She accepts the world as it is and finds a fleeting happiness 
with Claude, a leader of sorts of a gang of black toughs. She decides to 
accept her own origins, that of the Jew, and she turns, in the mist of chaos 
and dementia, and reaches out her hand to a Negro boy. He is her investment 
in the future, a symbol of what is to come for this nation. She is a young 
American assuming her responsibility to the rest of her fellow man 
regardless of his race, creed or color. Her decision may not be looked upon 
with favor or understanding by many Americans, but then, that is what this 
book is all about. 

-THE PUBLISHERS 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Deborah undressed slowly, removed each article of clothing carefully, then 
looked at herself in the mirror. She was a beautiful girl. She stood five 
feet six inches tall, her breasts were firm and stood out from her body, 
white and soft, and the nipples were like small roses, she decided, moving 
her fingers over them. Her hips had a curve to them that she knew would 
excite any man, round but not gross, and her stomach was flat and smooth and 
firm to the touch. She saw by her reflection that she had an almost 
perfectly shaped mound of pubic hair, soft and black like the hair on her 
head. She stepped back from the mirror and looked at her legs. Long, she 
decided and pretty; and, almost giggling to herself, thought that they ended 
just in the right place. 

She stopped looking suddenly, slightly disgruntled with herself for being so 
vain, and thought about her evening. She had had a date with Tom, a goyim, 
and he had literally tried to ravish her when he brought her home. She had 
been surprised by his sudden lunge for her and had not been able to ward it 
off. And, she hadn't really wanted to, but she had struggled in his arms, 
trying to get out of them, and he had pressed his sex into her stomach and 
that had caused her to have a strange feeling and then her aunt had come 
home, had looked at her with disgust, then ordered her to her room. She had 
obeyed her without question and left Tom in the room with her aunt to 
explain his wild actions. 

Deborah slipped a nightgown on, a sheer one, because it was extremely hot 
and close tonight, the smog thicker than it usually was, and brushed her 
hair. The whole night had been strange, she realized, feeling more 
uncomfortable with each stroke of the brush. There seemed to be a tenseness 
in the air, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on, but it was 
there, hovering about her. Maybe Tom had felt the same thing. That would 
account for his actions, she mused, laying the brush down on the table. 

She couldn't shake the feeling, the one that hung about and around her, so 
she let her mind think about it, to mull over it. It was probably the part 
of LA that she was in. She never could understand why her aunt wanted to 
live here, just at the edge of Watts. It certainly wasn't like Beverly 
Hills, but then nothing was, she supposed. She just wished her mother had 
let her stay at home rather than making her stay with her aunt while she was 
in New York for three months. Oh, well, she sighed, three months should pass 
quickly. She would have to watch her step with Tom, though. Usually she 
never let a boy move himself sexually against her as he had done. She would 
avoid that in the future, would not let him surprise her again. Such a funny 
feeling she had had. She shivered slightly, then stood up. 

That was another thing she didn't like about being here. She didn't have her 
own bathroom, there being only one upstairs, at the end of the hall. She had 
to share it with her aunt, had to be sure that all her things were put away 
before she left the bathroom and had to make sure that it was neat and tidy; 
ready for her aunt to use. 

She left her room, started down the hall her mood still reflective. Her 
attention was arrested by strange sounds coming from her aunt's bedroom. She 
started to enter, to rush in and see what was wrong, but she didn't. She 
stood just in front of the closed door and listened. She heard sounds that 
were low and guttural, coming deep down from her aunt's throat. She heard 
the springs of the bed creaking violently. Then, her eyes widening in 
surprise, she heard a voice that could be only that of a man. She was 
shocked. She stood as though paralyzed, her ear to the door, her hand on the 
knob and listened. 

The man spoke, his voice came clearly through the door to her. It sounded 
like Tom! Impossible, she told herself, not quite believing her own word. 
Without wanting to, without being aware of what she was doing, she turned 
the knob slowly, pushed the door open a crack and waited, then moved it 
further inward, and slowly peeked through. Her breathing was loud in her own 
ears, her heart was throbbing wildly against her chest. She moved the door 
further open, put her head more firmly into the opening, and gasped. 

Tom was on top of her aunt, his hardened penis plunging in and out of her. 
Her legs were spread out wide on each side of his plunging body and they 
were ... her mind searched for the word, coupled. Her hand went 
involuntarily to her mouth, over it, to stifle any cry she might have made. 
She watched in fascinated horror the two of them; his body plunging up and 
down, his thick, hard penis disappearing and reappearing with every thrust, 
and her aunt's splayed legs opening and closing around his hard driving 
buttocks. His young body, solidly muscled, was wet with sweat. He gripped 
her aunt's buttocks until they were red and bloodless lines were visible in 
them. Her inner thigh muscles were taunt, Deborah, could see, when her legs 
left his slim ass and splayed out again, flailing the air. She could see her 
aunt's hands, clawing his hips, and looked closer and saw that he was 
squeezing her white buttocks together and forcing her to tighten around his 
thick, pistoning penis. 

She could even see the ragged pink edges of her aunt's vagina clasping 
tightly to that plunging pole, much as though a hungry calf were sucking at 
its mother's udder. Deborah was as startled by the sounds the two of them 
were making as she was by what they were doing physically. 

Tom would rise up, drawing his hard, thick prick away from the sucking 
flanges of her vagina. Her legs would fall away from his hips, then he would 
thrust back into her and their stomachs smacked lewdly together. That, plus 
their grunts and groans of pleasure, made an obscene noise that sounded 
horrifying to Deborah's ears. If her mind would not fully accept what she 
saw, the noise they made decided her that she was seeing what she thought 
she was seeing. She shuddered, shaking herself, thinking that that is what 
he wanted to do to her, to ram his hard thick self into her and split her 
apart, and hurt her and push into her stomach and rip and tear, and her face 
turned white. 

She saw that their movements were becoming more hurried, almost to the point 
of frenzy, and their breathing was more labored and loud, then her aunt 
began to moan and clasp herself around his young pumping body and tried to 
melt herself to him. Then making a deep, unholy sound she dropped her arms 
and legs from him. Tom did not stop, did not slow down. He lifted her aunt's 
legs and pushed them over her body and Deborah was again permitted to see 
the dark hair-lined lips of her vagina sucking at and devouring his hard 
cock. He plunged more wildly now, shoving deep into her, causing her to 
buckle and moan with each inward thrust Then, much to Deborah's disbelief, 
his buttocks began moving faster than she had ever imagined a human could 
move, bucking his hips at a tremendous rate until a low deep-throated moan 
escaped him. Then grinding down hard, his lust hardened prick completely 
lost itself to her view between her aunt's legs and pushed and pumped in 
short lightning strokes until he suddenly raised his shoulders high and gave 
one last and final thrust then dropped his sweaty body hard down on top of 
her aunt's wildly screaming flesh. 

Deborah felt the earth suddenly drop from under her. She discovered herself 
to be warm, her own sex hot and bothering her. She closed the door quietly, 
tears dripping down her cheeks, and went back to her own room. She sat on 
the bed and cried and didn't know who to hate-him or herself or her aunt. 
She was a goyim, a non-Jew, and her aunt had not wanted her to date him. 
But, there she was, in bed with him, and his being goyim didn't seem to 
matter to her. Deborah felt like killing the both of them. The idea of her 
aunt sending her upstairs just so she could be with Tom who was half her age 
sickened Deborah. Then she thought that perhaps Tom had forced her aunt into 
the room. That's silly, she told herself, no one ever forced her aunt to do 
anything. They had both betrayed her, she felt, and she couldn't-wouldn't 
stay there a moment longer. She never wanted to see Tom again and she might 
never be able to face her aunt. She dressed hurriedly and slipped quietly 
out of the house. 

Deborah went to her car, which was really her mother's, opened the door and 
got behind the wheel. She was so nervous and upset that she couldn't manage 
to get the key into the ignition switch. She started crying again, for lost 
love, lost faith, or what she didn't know, but she wished now that she had 
not seen the two of them in such an obscene and horrible act. 

Deborah had been dating Tom for two months now. She had always put him off, 
time after time, no matter how he pleaded and promised marriage and 
explained to her that men were different than women, that they had to have 
an 'outlet.' Her answer had always been the same: when she married she 
wanted to be taken by her husband in a virginal state. No amount of talking 
from him, nor she could have said, from the many other boys she had dated 
throughout high school, could make her change her mind. Oh, they had all 
tried, each in their tiresome ways, but Tom seemed more sure of himself than 
the others, more certain of her eventual capitulation. She had always been 
just as sure it would never happen and after tonight, seeing him so violent 
and animal-like on top of her aunt, she was more than positive. That thought 
brought her crying to a new high. She decided that she would walk rather 
than drive, since she couldn't trust herself to do the latter, so she got 
out of the car and slammed the door and ran up the street. 

She was getting more and more upset the more she ran, so she made herself 
slow down, to breathe deeply and walk more slowly. She could hardly see 
where she was going, tears so badly blurred her vision. She crossed a foot 
bridge over the freeway, an eight lane one, and had the impulse to throw 
herself at the fast moving cars below. She breathed in, tossed her head back 
so that she could hold it high and see where she was going, and continued 
across the bridge. Without warning the full noise from the fast moving cars 
on the freeway got to her. She started running, to get away from it, from 
the area of her aunt's house and from the memory of what she had seen. She 
ran until she was exhausted. 

Standing against a building, trying to get herself under control so that she 
could decide what to do, where to go, she was suddenly startled by the 
headlights of a car, then a second, and a squealing of brakes and red lights 
and doors slamming and people shouting and the street suddenly having pools 
of lights from the houses and then, in what seemed like seconds to her, it 
was full of people. She couldn't move. She stood glued to the spot, 
listening to the shouting, the crude language. Suddenly the house directly 
across the street from her erupted in noise, seemed to her eyes to raise up 
off its foundations. More police cars poured into the street, blocking both 
ends of it, and the door of the house across the street flew open and two 
burly policemen in shiny helmets pushed a small negro man out onto the 
meager patch of grass and weeds that served as a lawn. 

One of the policemen kicked him, as far as Deborah could tell in the side of 
the head, and a noise, a whole body of it all at once as though all the 
people there had only one set of lungs among them, rose to an almost 
unbearable volume. Deborah felt the need to close it out of her head by 
putting her hands over both ears and pressing them together as hard as she 
could. It didn't work. 

The whole ghastly scene was still there before her and there would never be 
any way for her to stop the noise that the growing body of people made. 

The small man was pulled to his feet by the two big policemen, who were now 
assisted by six others, and one of them clobbered him across the back with 
his nightstick. The angry mob of people moved closer to the police; one of 
them shouted in a threatening voice, "STAY BACK, ALL OF YOU, HE'S KILLED 
SOMEONE." The mob of people hesitated. They seemed to her to be suspended in 
whatever position they had been in when the policeman started yelling. 
Everything stopped, all action waiting for something to start the people 
moving again, when a piercing scream split the air, heralding the approach 
of a small, dark woman. She threw herself on the policeman who had just 
spoken, yelling "My son, my son. They're killing him." 

A scream of anger was torn from the throats of the crowd, much as though it 
were a giant throat emitting one long scream. Then the crowd moved, rushed 
the cops and to Deborah's unbelievable eyes, started kicking and hitting and 
cursing at them. The whole bank of noise was split apart by the firing of a 
gun. The crowd fell back, then again they rushed the police, lacking at them 
as they tried to get up off the ground, yelling "PIG!" and other words that 
had no place in Deborah's vocabulary. Suddenly a second and third and fourth 
shot was heard, then the banging of a car door. That was followed by the 
breaking of glass, the crashing of it sounding above the noise of the crowd 
when it hit and shattered upon the sidewalk. 

Deborah was paralyzed with fright. There was no place to run. She could hear 
sirens wailing in the distance, the shouting and cursing increasing with 
every second, then her mind accepted the fact of blood. There was lots of 
it. It was red and rich and ran down the faces of the people there, all 
black and streaked with red blood. Fires began all along the street. The 
police cars were hammered with bricks and groups of people were on one side 
of each car, trying to turn them over with the police inside. 

She had to get away. She didn't understand what she was seeing, didn't 
believe that she could even relate what she was now watching to any living 
soul. It just didn't, somehow, seem to be, yet it was. Everyone seemed to be 
suddenly crazy, each person screaming and throwing bricks and digging and 
tearing at the sidewalk for pieces of cement to use as weapons. She pressed 
herself against the wall of the building, trying to hide, wishing that she 
could vanish into thin air. Then she decided to run, up the street, away 
from all the people. She prayed that she wouldn't be noticed. 

Deborah clutched to herself all the energy and nerve she could muster, then 
flew out from the wall of the building and ran madly up the street. She had 
almost reached the comer, the end of the block when a huge mob of people 
turned the same comer, heading in the direction from which she was escaping. 
She was knocked to the ground by the first wave of people. She managed to 
crawl to the doorway of a building, a grocery and liquor store. She was cut, 
bruised and her mouth had the taste of blood in it. Her eyes were wide with 
fright and disbelief at what was happening: people were almost jubilant, 
dancing and swearing and knocking in the glass front of stores. The glass 
would crash to the street, clattering and twinkling in the light from the 
street lamps, and then the people would disappear inside the window. 

It seemed so crazy to her. It was as though she had stumbled into someone 
else's nightmare. She made herself as small as possible against the door of 
the store, and looked about for a chance to run, to escape the madness that 
had erupted all about her. She realized with a suddenness that made her sick 
to her stomach that the group of boys in front of the store where she was 
trying to hide were intent on breaking the glass. She slipped down in the 
doorway, drew her knees up and put her arms about them, and shivered in 
fright. The first brick to hit the store window did not break it, but 
Deborah felt the thud of it in her body, knew that it would be repeated 
again and again until the window gave. It was. 

A rain of bricks flew at the window, then the breaking of glass and the 
crashing of it onto the sidewalk did not surprise her. The reflected light, 
suddenly there in the glass on the sidewalk, seemed almost pretty to 
Deborah. It fascinated her by its twinkling and sparkling. 

"Augh, MAN! OOOH," all screams of lust and desire and anticipated pleasure 
broke from the throat of the boys as they jumped jubilantly through the 
window of the store. Deborah watched, waited for her opportunity to flee, to 
race away from the growing madness. She huddled more closely to the door, 
standing now, ready to bolt and run. People were everywhere. "GIT WHITEY!" 
was a cry that filled and spilled from the throats of every person there. It 
made little sense to her chaotic thoughts, jumbled as they were, one on top 
of the other, then in a flash it was there, the full and terrible meaning of 
what she was hearing. 

SHE WAS WHITEY! 

The very knowledge made her legs weak. She cringed against the door, trying 
to become part of it, and cried. Where could she go? What could she do? 
There was nowhere to run. If she went to her right she would surely be 
attacked by the huge mob of people that were looting in that direction. If 
she ran to her left she would be going toward the most angry part of the 
mob, the place where the police had been attacked. Crossing the street was 
impossible. A fire was raging there. She knew that her position was 
hopeless, so she pressed tighter against the door and prayed. 

Then, when she thought for a moment she was safe, the door was yanked open 
from the inside. Deborah fell backwards through it. She found herself flat 
on her back, looking up into the startled face of a negro boy. 

She couldn't move. 

"Man!" he exclaimed, "Man!" looking down at her. She wanted to say 
something, to plead with him for her life, for her safety, but no words 
would come. Then, she knew that her chance had gone when he yelled, 
apparently to the other boys she had seen disappear through the window, in a 
quavering voice, "Claude, man, come here. A little white bird just flew into 
our cage." Deborah made a move to get up, bringing her head up and then 
lifting her shoulders off the floor, but he was too fast. He put his foot on 
her breast and pushed her back to the foor. She brought her legs together, 
grabbed his leg with her hands and tried to move it off her. He poured 
liquor from the bottle he was holding into her face. It spilled into her 
nose, ran over her closed lips and down the sides of her cheeks. Then she 
began crying, her hopeless situation now completely evident to her. 

They stood over her, looking down with their huge bulging eyes, and drank 
from their bottles and poured liquor onto her, and laughed nervously and 
each told the other to get Claude. She tried again to get up, to escape, 
feeling that her chances would be better in the street, but each time she 
moved the foot pressed into her and they all laughed and she felt a foot on 
her crotch and pain shoot through her middle and she screamed and they 
laughed again. "Benjie, ya' found her, git Claude," one of them said, 
dropping to his knees alongside her. 

"You the second in command, you git him," Benjie replied, his foot still 
planted firmly on her chest. 

"He comin'. Claude comin'," a couple of them murmured, moving slightly back 
to make room for him. 

"Well, well, what we got here?" the one they all referred to as Claude said, 
standing over her. He had money in both fists, large wads of it. "This our 
lucky night, boys. Git 'er inside," he commanded, moving away from her. 

Claude had looked like a giant to Deborah, tall and very dark and the whites 
of his eyes showing clearly as he looked down at her, his large white teeth 
glistening. The light from the fires which were burning all around, across 
the street, in the street itself, reflected and made shadows on his sweaty 
face. 

Then, there were hands all over her, her legs, her breasts, her buttocks, 
and one or two made fleeting attempts to feel between her thighs as she was 
dragged into the interior of the store. 

"Claude done open de safe!" One of them bellowed, releasing her arm. She 
struck out, lashed out, with her one free hand and drew her fingernails 
across his face. He hollered, "OUCH," and backhanded her, snapping her head 
sideways. Claude hit him in the face with his fist, then all of them 
released her, letting her drop to the floor. 

"What you do dat for?" the boy whined, blood pouring from his mouth through 
his fingers. "We all gonna' fuck...." he started, spitting blood. 

"Tfeah, you our 'lected leader, we cain jest unlect you too," another said, 
then was rewarded by a clot on the side of the head from Claude. 

Deborah's hopes lifted, seeing in him her protector, fear of him growing 
deep within her even as she told herself that he would protect her. Her 
hopes were dashed in an instant. He reached out, took her dress at the front 
and ripped it completely down the middle, in a lightning stroke that caused 
her to cry out 

"Move back. Everybody. You look but don't touch. I am the' leered leader' as 
Fish Brain pointed out, and as such I get first choice of everything, 
including this bird. Then, John, he the second in command, he choose. Then, 
Daddy Simms, he next, and right on down the line. We wanna' change officers, 
we got a meeting next week and we can elect then. Now, and for this week, we 
stay as we elected and if nobody like it, then he gotta take it away from me 
by force." Claude stopped, glared at each of them, and took a long drink 
from his quart of Scotch. 

"I done found her, Claude. I outta' get first.. Benjie whinned, then was 
clobbered by Claude for his efforts. 

"We all git a chance," another said, moving out of the range of Claude's 
swing. Several of the rest of them took up the cry, demanding that "We all 
git a chance," and then Claude spoke again. 

Deborah noticed that his first word threw the rest of them into silence 
immediately. He was powerful, huge shoulders, slim hipped, and his movements 
were graceful, like those of a boxer and a dancer. Deborah had to admire 
him, even though she feared him now more than anyone she had ever seen in 
her fife, she realized that he was her only hope, her only chance of not 
being ravished by all these wild uncontrolled animals. She listened when he 
spoke, her mind racing over the difficulties she would be facing shortly. 

"I am the boss," Claude said, evenly, "And as such, I say again, I got the 
say. I work in this store. I planned coming here tonight, what happened in 
the street just a coincidence. I opened the safe. I got the money. Now, I 
say again and for the last time, I am the boss. I kill any man that say 
different. Understood?" 

There was a grudging consent from all of them, then one spoke apart from the 
crowd, John. He moved next to Claude, a position the rest of them had not 
seemed eager to place themselves in, took a long drink from his bottle and 
said, "You motherfuckers better believe it like he tol' it. Dat's the way 
is." 

"We gotta' remember our organization, men." Claude began, taking a swig from 
his bottle, " 'Cause I feel like tonight gonna turn into somethin' like we 
ain't never even thought of cause I can feel it. We gonna make it turn into 
a free market at Whitey's expense. We gotta get back in the street, keep 
things going, keep the people busy and hatin'. We gotta a chance to get 
clothes, money and we got a whole fuckin' store of liquor." He paused and a 
cheer went up from all of them, agreement from all concerned. 

Claude turned back to Deborah, moved to her and forced the bottle between 
her lips. She drank the fiery liquor straight, burning her throat and 
gagging. He laughed easily, then put his huge hand over hers and made her 
release her dress where she had clutched it together in front. He put his 
strong fingers around one of her soft, white breasts and smiled into her 
eyes. Then he turned to the rest of them, still holding onto her and spoke. 

"You mothers outta' feel this tit," he said, squeezing it hard and causing 
Deborah to cry out. "It ain't been touched 'fore." 

He was rewarded by a moaning consent from the rest of them. 

"You can. Sure. Later. I first, cause this white broad a virgin. I can tell. 
Ain't that right?" he asked Deborah, fingering her nipple. "You ain't never 
been fucked, have you?" 

"No," Deborah whispered, her face wet from her tears brought about by her 
humiliation as well as her pain. 

"She don't even like the word," Claude laughed, then continued: "An' I gonna 
be the first to fuck her, to teach her the joy of a black prick, a real man. 
But, I ain't gonna let pleasure interfere with business. Ain't any the rest 
of you fuckers goin' to either. We gonna take her to the basement, Benjie, 
'cause he found her, and Ape cause he cain't do anything else, they gonna 
watch her till we get back. We all gotta lot to do." 

He continued talking, instructing the rest of them how to go about keeping 
die people busy in the street, looting and sacking the stores, setting 
fires, etc. Deborah was amazed at his ability, at his belief that all of 
them could keep it all going for so long. In his discourse, she learned that 
he worked at the liquor store where she was being held captive, that he was 
a student at the state college, and that he hated the owner of the liquor 
store. She understood that she was to be kept in the basement, that the 
supplies that each of them felt they needed would be taken to the basement 
and that it could be sealed off from the rest of the world indefinitely. She 
shuddered with the thought of them ravishing her for days, of her slowly 
dying and never being heard from again. 

Claude finished the instructions, grabbed her by the arm and took her to the 
basement. Once there, Benjie and Ape following along, he threw her down on 
the bed and said to her, "Ain't very pretty is it? My Whitey boss, a Jew 
Charlie, done gave me this room-I had to stay here-after his dog died. You 
see, this did belong to the dog, then it died and he had another better dog, 
a black one. Me. I could tie you up, but I ain't gonna. You escape, you git 
killed in the street Ain't one white man gonna survive this. So I'm not 
gonna tie you, but I tell you, Ape, here, he crazy. You try to escape, I 
don't know what he gonna do. You understand?" 

Deborah nodded dumbly, her mind numb. Her situation was hopeless. She had 
thought sometime ago that she would appeal to Benjie, promise him something, 
help him to want to help her to escape. She had not formulated any plan in 
her mind, but she felt that she could at least talk to Benjie. She looked at 
the one called Ape and shuddered. He was a slobbering, retarded idiot. 

"I see you understand Ape. He gotta cock bigger 'an horse." He turned to the 
two guards, said, "I come back ready to fuck, she better still be a virgin. 
You understand?" 

Both of them nodded their heads in understanding, Benjie eyeing her, a 
slight smile hovering about his lips, Ape's eyes all glassy and saliva 
dripping from the comers of his mouth. Each of them had a bottle in each 
hand. "You fuckers better remember what I say," Claude said, going up the 
stairs. 

Deborah clutched her dress to herself, feeling completely without hope of 
any kind. She realized that she was more frightened than she had ever been 
in her life, that her life was in danger because she was being left alone 
with that idiot. She could remember reading or hearing somewhere that 
mentally retarded people were stronger than normal ones, and decided that 
the statement must have been quite accurate, just looking at him. There 
would be no reasoning with him, she decided, and knew that her life now 
rested in the hands of Benjie. She guessed him to be about fourteen years 
old. He was still drinking, taking deep draughts from one bottle or the 
other that he had. She wished that he would stop drinking. She knew without 
being told that her greatest danger was Ape. She listened to the lessening 
sounds on the floor above, until they ended, then guessed that the thing she 
feared most had happened. She was cut off from the world, alone with a 
drunken child and a half-witted maniac. 

"Benjie," she whispered, "Do you think you ought to drink so much?" 

"I drink all de time," he said, taking a long haul from the bottle. "You 
need a drink," he told her, pushing the mouth of the bottle to her lips. 
Deborah turned her head and accidentally knocked the bottle out of his hand, 
looked at it in disbelief as it crashed and broke on the floor. The Ape 
started yelling and jumping up and down and doing what passed for laughing 
and then pointed his finger at Benjie. 

Benjie had been startled when she knocked the bottle from his hands. He was 
drunk, as he well knew, and he was having the first high that he had ever in 
his life felt All things seemed to be in slow motion for him until Ape 
started making fun of what he had let happen to him. He felt like a child 
again, as he often did with the men who came to his mother and talked to him 
as though he were a baby and fucked his mother and gave her a little money 
and always threw him a quarter or two. He hated his mother, at the same time 
felt sorry for her, and somewhere in his life had decided to make all the 
people in the world repay him for her suffering. 

It came through his brain like slow moving pictures for him that Deborah, 
the beautiful white girl, had indeed made him look like a fool in front of 
Ape. He had felt proud when he had been appointed her guard, felt that she 
should have been grateful to him for having such an honor. After all, he was 
the youngest member of the gang and it was a big responsibility to have to 
watch her, and to keep Ape from bothering her. Now, she was ruining the 
whole thing, causing him humiliation in front of an idiot. 

He formulated the thought slowly that he would repay her. He turned back to 
her, said, "White bitch, you gonna' pay for that." He slapped her on the 
face, not hard, almost missing, his coordination gone with the whiskey. 

It was enough to cut Ape loose, however. He had set his own bottles down, 
the spittle still dribbled from the comers of his mouth, and he jumped up 
and down and clapped his hands. Benjie felt repaid, smiled at Ape and then 
knew that he had to make her suffer more. "You gonna' drink, white bitch," 
he said, grabbing her by the hair of the head. 

Deborah reacted without thinking. She caught his cheek with her fingernails 
and tore it viciously. Benjie screamed, much as a young girl would, his 
voice cracking and changing fibre about half-way through his first cry. He 
smacked Deborah, then dropped his second bottle when his free hand went to 
his cheek. Deborah was instantly sorry. She hadn't fully realized how much 
of a child he was until that instant. 

"Help me, Ape," Benjie said, his hand firmly grasped to her hair, "Let's 
teach this hi white bitch a lesson." 

Ape loped to them, still grinning his idiotic grin, and Deborah realized 
that his name, however unbecoming, was an apt one. He moved just like an 
ape, his arms hanging down, his shoulders sloped forward, and his feet 
shuffled rather than lifted up and sat down on the floor like normal people. 

He moved behind her and grabbed her, putting his arms about her waist and 
clamping her arms to her side. His hands closed into her crotch, clutching 
her thighs, his thumbs placed against her vagina, his prick against her 
buttocks, saliva dribbling from his Hp down her neck. Deborah thought she 
would faint from the very revulsion she felt for him. "Benjie, please," she 
cried, trying to awaken in him some human feeling that she was certain had 
to be there. 

Benjie ignored her, however, and took a bottle from which Ape had been 
drinking, crossed back to her and took her hair in his hand and pulled her 
head back. "Drink, white bitch," he said, forcing the mouth of the bottle 
between her Bps and pouring the hot liquid into her. She gagged and coughed 
and tried to spit up the fiery alcohol, but it was no use. A great deal of 
it got down her throat, burning and scalding her insides. She was forced to 
drink, losing only a little of the liquor, until the bottle was almost 
empty. Benjie finished the rest of it, watching as Ape moved his sex across 
her backside and his hand kneaded her thighs and hungrily rubbed at her 
vagina. 

Deborah could feel his growing hardness back against her soft giving mounds, 
and she clenched her buttocks together to avoid him. Ape took her movements 
for response to his fondling and lengthened faster than he would have. 
Without realizing it, Deborah compared the feel of him against her buttocks 
to Tom's hardness, hurriedly though it had been, against the softness of her 
stomach. Indeed, her mind let her know, he did feel like a horse against 
her, hard like steel and hot and big. His hands and fingers worked at the 
top of her thighs and no amount of wiggling and moving on her part made him 
slow down. She realized with a sudden chilling knowledge that her movements 
were only causing him to get more excited. She made her self stop, to stand 
perfectly still and hope that he would desist. 

The liquor was getting to her. She could feel her head swim, feared that she 
might be losing her ability to think and to act rationally. The first 
problem was still there: she could not afford to have Benjie drunk. Then, if 
he should become so, she would be left entirely at the mercy of Ape. Her 
mind searched for something, anything to say to him. 

"Benjie, Benjie, please listen to me," she said, hoping that her words were 
not slurred. "Do you have a sister?" she asked hopefully. 

"I's an only child, white bitch," he said, squeezing her breasts cruelly. 
She cried out in pain. 

"What about your mother?" she cried out desperately, 'Would you like to see 
her getting molested by Ape?" 

"She a whore," Benjie said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "Ape done 
fucked her. She say he almost kill her." 

Deborah's eyes were instantly full of tears. She was crying from the pain 
and from the sympathy she felt for Benjie. His defenselessness came to her 
like a clap of thunder, making her want to put her arms about him and 
console him and let him cry on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Benjie, truly I 
am," she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. Ape was rutting into her 
behind, forcing his hard pole against her, still digging and moving his 
fingers against the nylon material that covered her tender vaginal lips. 

Deborah saw a flicker of understanding in Benjie's eyes. She thought 
frantically for something to say to reinforce his belief in her, but could 
come up with nothing. The idea of what a boy, as young as he, having a 
mother as he described, almost ruined her thinking. She pleaded with him 
with her eyes, blinking the tears out of them. He responded. 

"That enough, Ape. We gotta' remember what Claude done say," he said, moving 
forward and trying to move Ape's hands from her crotch. He couldn't. His 
efforts only caused Ape to hang on more forcefully, pressing her vaginal 
lips together cruelly, and his hard telephone pole like prick to move faster 
back against the soft mounds of her buttocks. Her arms were pinned alongside 
her body so that she absolutely couldn't move. 

"Fituck," Ape slobbered behind her. "Drink whiskey," he said, causing her 
neck to become wet from his spittle. 

"Ah, shiit," Benjie said, picking up a bottle, "He only say you gotta be a 
virgin yet, he never say you can't be used," he told Deborah, accusingly. He 
took the bottle, brought it back to them and took her hair in his hand again 
and forced her head back and poured some of the hot liquid down her throat. 
She struggled to avoid it, but it was hope less. Then he held the bottle to 
Ape's mouth and he drank, long and deep, emptying the bottle. Ha threw it 
aside, breaking it against the wall, then took another from an open case, 
uncapped it and took a long draw himself. His thin body shuddered and he set 
the bottle down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"Bring her over here," he told Ape, indicating the dirty mattress that was 
on the floor. 

Ape lifted Deborah off the floor as though she were a match stick. She felt 
herself being crushed and lifted and then being slammed down on the filthy 
mattress. She made a desperate effort to escape, but Ape pinioned her 
against the mattress, throwing his own hard, sweating body on top of hers. 
She cried out in anger and exasperation. She thought her prayers had been 
answered when she heard noise from the floor above. She felt certain that 
Claude had returned. 

"I be right back," Benjie said, moving swiftly toward the stairway. 

Ape wasted no time. He tore her bra off in one swift stroke, then before her 
mind could grasp what was happening, he fastened his thick-lipped mouth onto 
her breast and bit down hard, causing her to scream in pain and terror. Her 
scream only caused him to bite harder, and as he did so he moved himself on 
top of her, his long hard sex on her legs, moving back and forth and hitting 
at her vaginal lips, still covered with the small hopelessly thin patch of 
nylon panties. She felt as though he were going to bite her breast off, knew 
that he was soon going to pierce the flesh and draw blood. She moved her 
hips up, throwing them against his hard prick, and he released her, thinking 
that she wanted him, and she quickly moved her arm from underneath and 
groped frantically for a weapon. Her hand closed over the neck of a full 
bottle; she swung it with all her strength and caught him alongside the 
head; the bottle plopped and then broke and the air was alive with the fresh 
smell of alcohol and his slobbering mouth was grinning and his hand went 
over the band of her sheer panties and he ripped them apart and then closed 
his mouth over hers. 

Deborah wanted to vomit. His tongue forced her lips apart, then she gasped 
for breath as the wet fleshy instrument filled her mouth and she felt the 
head of his huge large prick bang against the tender opening between her 
legs. She still had one hand free, and almost without her knowing what it 
was doing it closed around the neck of the bottle and she dug it into his 
side with all her strength and he yelled and rolled off her. Deborah made it 
to her knees, her mind a vacuum of terror, and stopped, stunned when she saw 
all the blood soaking through his shirt. His dim brain accepted the sight of 
blood slowly, then he turned back to her and hit her full force in the face 
with his open palm, sending her reeling backwards, legs apart, her dress 
bunched up to her thighs. Then he was back on her, biting and sucking her 
breasts and his hands dug into her back and his huge organ was again pressed 
to her unwilling cunt, against it, feeling for all the world to her like a 
fence post. She screamed in terror. 

"Stop it, man," Benjie cried out, running to them, "You done 'member what 
Claude say. He kill you," he kicked Ape in the side, causing him to grunt, 
but not lessening his pushing and biting at Deborah. "God, what done happen' 
to ya'?" he asked Ape, seeing all the blood that now covered the whole right 
side of him. 

"Cut, botl'," he said, lifting his head away from her breasts. 

"Gawd, she a wild little white bitch," Benjie said in wonder at all the 
blood. "Test people helpin' themselves up there. Guess they's enough for 
everybody, we got all we need here," he continued. 

Deborah knew he was drunk and she would have been also she realized, if the 
beast that was on her had not inflicted so much pain upon her body. She 
couldn't give up, however, so she spoke to Benjie, saying, "Please, Benjie, 
remember what Claude told you. Please," she moaned, "he's hurting me." 

"Dat's enough, Ape, she tight. Claude gonna' be damned mad, he find you like 
dis. Com' on now," he said, grabbing Ape by the hair of the head and pulling 
with all his might. 

Ape reluctantly stopped his biting, moved his huge pole away from the lips 
of her virginal opening, but remained firmly on top of her. "Benjie ... cock 
... moufth," he said, his eyes glistening and shining and his drooling 
dropping onto her exposed white breasts. 

"Gawd," Benjie moaned, "Ain't never seen a white bitch 'fore," his eyes 
bulging out of his head as he looked at her firm white fleshly mounds 
jutting defiantly up from her chest, the nipples standing proud and pink. 
"You ever suck a cock, white bitch?" he asked, unzipping his trousers and 
exposing his manhood, then taking it in his hand and rubbing the foreskin 
over the purple black head of it It slowly lengthened, growing before 
Deborah's bulging eyes, the tip of it slowly emitting a white viscous fluid 
that he caught with his finger and spread over the rest of the growing head. 
"You is now, that sure," he said, kneeling by her head and slapping Ape's 
forehead with the flat of his palm. 

"You eat her, Ape, 'cause she gonna' eat me. You like the taste of dat white 
tight pussy, Ape," he continued, moving so that his prick touched Deborah's 
lips. 

She moved her head to the side, trying to avoid at all costs the now long, 
hard black prick of Benjie. She was amazed that such a small boy could have 
such a large cock. She had never seen one before, either black or white. She 
saw Tom's moving in and out of her aunt's slit, and that had been large, 
larger than the one now being forced into her mouth. She moved her head from 
side to side, praying that he wouldn't do that, force that horrible hard 
thing into her mouth. 

She felt her legs being lifted, then the brittle hair of Ape's head on the 
soft inner flesh of her thighs, then his hot mouth and thick lips on her 
tender cuntal lips and she tried to move away, to close her thighs, but her 
legs only banged against his head and did not in any way hinder him from 
reaching his goal. She felt his thick lips close over the soft hair-lined 
flanges between her legs and felt herself being sucked, then his tongue 
plunged into her, causing her to gasp and when she did Benjie shoved his now 
thoroughly hard prick into her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat 
and she gagged. 

Benjie withdrew from her, almost all the way, then slammed his rod back into 
her, past the point it had been, down deep into her throat and her hp 
brushed against the zipper of his trousers, and the metal felt cold and hard 
to her. She felt the plunging probing wet tongue of Ape deep inside and 
between the walls of her tight little cunt, and the lack of pain was a 
surprise to her. She made one final effort to rid herself of his vile 
muscled tongue, and in so doing succeeded only in opening her legs wider, 
and he grasped the inside of her thighs and forced them to remain open, and 
his teeth chewed at the lips of her vagina, and suddenly there was pain, as 
she had anticipated earlier, then it stopped and his tongue was pushed 
deeper into her. 

She felt a sickening sensation deep within her, revolting her but she liked 
the feeling of Ape's tongue and had to fight herself to keep from responding 
to it. Every time that he moved it deep into her, she felt shivers of bitter 
pleasure all the way to the core of her being. He worked his tongue over her 
clitoris, sending waves of pleasure surging through her, and without knowing 
what she was doing she started sucking, massaging the hard rod of Benjie 
with her tongue. 

Ape knew what he was about He could never have formulated the thought 
thoroughly in his own mind, but he had felt many clitoris stiffen and 
tighten under and around his tongue. He knew immediately that she would 
change, was changing, was quitting the fight as soon as he felt that soft 
quivering little piece of flesh harden. He pushed at it violently, working 
it up against her flesh, then moving it out with his tongue, then probed 
back further into her, and felt the movement, perceptible though it was, 
start within her. He loved the smell, the musty sweet odor that a cunt 
always had, even a whore's, and he joyed in hers, clean and unused as it 
was. The sweetness of it filled and entered his nostrils, was sucked into 
his lungs and then spread to all parts of his body, causing his hard, thick 
prick to throb with painful desire. 

Deborah could not fight against the sensations that were assaulting her body 
from head to foot. She did, without knowing it, close the walls of her tight 
little cunt around the probing tongue of Ape. It slithered into her, deeply, 
sending hot and cold flashes deep into her, then out, and the walls of her 
now hot pussy clasped at it trying to prevent its escape from her. Suddenly 
her hips were moving in unison with the tongue, bouncing up when it started 
in, drawing it in to her faster than Ape had intended it to go. He removed 
his hands from her soft thighs, sure that they would remain open for him, 
and grabbed her soft, white buttocks in his hands and squeezed and moved his 
finger to her hot little opening in between them, worked his finger around 
it, enjoyed the feel of the rubbery spongy tightly muscled tissue. He forced 
his finger through the tiny rectal opening, heard her groan with pain and 
moved toward his hungry demanding mouth into that which he loved above all 
else; he shoved his finger in, deep, and left it there, wanting her to get 
used to the idea of it. 

Deborah felt his large finger on her tight little hole, wanted to scream and 
plead that he not defile her there, but could only moan instead, full, as 
her mouth was of Benjie's hard prick. Pain shot through her insides when he 
tore at her opening, forcing his large finger deep into her. He moved it 
upwards and she could feel the flesh being rubbed by his finger in one part 
of her, then feel his tongue working over it in her cunt Her body betrayed 
her. Suddenly, without any hint or warning to her mind, her desire took 
over, thrusting her loins upwards and toward the hot, willing tongue of Ape, 
then causing her to grind down on his finger, shoving it deep into her tight 
defenseless rectum, and she bit down on and sucked Benjie's rod deep into 
her. The delicious sucking and biting and greed increased in pace with her 
desires, and she contracted her buttocks around the hard probing finger and 
pushed her cunt hard up into the lustful face. At the core of her being a 
tension began building rapidly, one that she wanted to satisfy at all costs. 
She bucked upwards, moaning deep within herself, and ground and pushed her 
now wet hot cunt at the foreign object there, wanting to suck it deep within 
her and keep it there always. 

Suddenly it was there. She abandoned all hope and threw all her energy into 
satisfying her lust crazed desires. She felt a tension building low down at 
the root of Benjie's prick, somehow matching her own needs deep inside her, 
and then it was spilling hot liquid down her throat and plunging in more 
wildly and she was rising up to meet the hot tongue as it moved in and out 
of there and then the dam broke and all thought except the fulfilling of her 
overwhelming desire controlled her and then it was released deep within and 
flowed out from her and fought to get that maddening tongue into her fully 
and completely until it was no longer necessary, until she had spent 
herself. Then exhausted, sore and amazed at what she had just experienced, 
she felt her muscles go lax and they did return her mind to her, to its 
rightful place, somewhere in her lust-dimmed thinking structure. 

Benjie withdrew his now limp cock from her mouth, rolled to one side of her 
and looked at the busy head of Ape moving between her white thighs, his 
glistening ebony head bobbing up and down and around making a lewd contrast 
between her white soft thighs and his dark woolly head. Benjie had never 
lost his load to anything more than his own hand, so he was recovering from 
the experience, the most overwhelming one that he had ever had. He felt 
exhausted, his young body empty of what had been building in him for 
fourteen years, and he also felt guilty and suddenly re pulsed by the sight 
of Ape eating at her writhing white loins. He felt like crushing the skull 
of Ape, splitting it open to make him stop what he was doing. He forced his 
gaze away from that unpleasant sight, and looked at Deborah. She would not 
return his look, except momentarily, and he realized immediately that she 
felt guilty too, then knew that she had enjoyed what they had done to her. 
He touched her cheek with his finger, and she almost smiled at him. He put 
his foot on the top of Ape's head and pushed with all his strength, sending 
Ape sprawling backwards. 

Deborah lay as they left her, legs apart, her own orgastic fluid seeping 
from her open slit, the taste of Benjie's cum sickening her and making her 
want to vomit She decided that she needed a drink, wanted to pour some 
liquor down her throat to burn her taste buds and forget what had just 
happened to her. She spoke, softly to Benjie: "Get me a drink, please." 

He did. He got a bottle, moved his arm under her head and held it to her 
lips. She drank deeply, then sputtered and gagged as the fiery liquid hit 
her throat She got herself under control and looked at Ape. He was sitting 
just as he had landed, looking at her through crazy, lust-filled eyes, and 
had his huge pole in his hands, working them up and down the length of it. 
Deborah gasped, not out of fear, but at the hugeness of it. She under stood 
fully what Claude had meant about him being built like a horse. She just 
hoped and prayed that she would never be subjected to anything like that. 
She hoped that all the rest of them would return soon, prayed that they 
would because she realized that the dim-witted Ape knew that she had, in the 
end, responded to him. She could only guess at the lewd thoughts in his 
head. She watched fascinated as he worked at his hardened pole, an idiot 
grin on his face, spittle dripping down his chin as he continued desperately 
to jerk the skin up and down over its mammoth length. 

Deborah tore her gaze away from the obscene sight and let her eyes roam 
around the room. What she saw was not encouraging. There were no windows, 
even high ones. She had not been in many basements, since there are few in 
Southern California, so she had no idea what it should look like. But, the 
lack of windows, even small ones high up on the wall, gave her a shock and 
made her think that she might be getting a case of claustrophobia. There was 
only one way out of there and that was up the staircase, through the store 
and to the street. How could she ever manage that? she asked herself. How 
could she divert their attention long enough to make her escape? 

Then she thought of herself, creeping up the stairs, perhaps after they had 
passed out from too much drink, and she almost laughed. Her under garments 
had been torn from her. They were no longer useful. Her dress had been torn 
down the front, and now as she clutched it to herself, she realized that it 
no longer went all the way around her and covered her nudity. Her situation 
was as hopeless as it looked to her. 

Then, without warning the sounds from the street came to her, distantly, as 
though from another planet, another world. There was the muffled sounds of 
sirens, the pinging of single shots being fired, and she could detect the 
falling of walls, crashing down into the street because it rumbled along the 
ground, thudding dully here in her place of capture. She turned to Benjie 
whose eyelids were closing slowly over his large dark eyes. At all costs she 
must not let him leave her, physically or mentally. She would be left alone 
with that idiot, Ape, who had never taken his eyes off her and who was still 
massaging his mammoth, hard pole. 

"Benjie!" she called to him, causing him to snap his eyes open and jerk his 
body upward. 

"What ya"wan'?," he mumbled from his sleep tired brain. 

"What's happening up there? Who's firing the guns? It sounds like buildings 
falling all the time." 

"'Das right," he slurred, drunk from the liquor that he was unused to. 
"Burnin', Baby, burnin'. 

We's gonna' tear down Whitey's world. Yore worlV 

"Are you going to help build it back, Benjie?" she asked, not caring for an 
answer, just wanting to keep him awake and alert as she could. "Have you any 
idea of the number of years it took to build this crummy place? This world 
you're going to tear down? You're going to build it back? How, Benjie, how?" 
She was almost yelling, her anger sudden and lashing. 

"Shut yore white face and let a man sleep," he mumbled, moving his body to a 
supine position and cradling his head on his arm. 

Deborah shot a glance at Ape who seemed to be suspended in time, never 
changing his sick grin nor his repulsive actions, and then put her attention 
back on her only hope, Benjie. She couldn't let him sleep. Never. She felt 
it was the curtains for her if she did so. "Benjie," she spoke harshly, 
"listen to me!" He answered her with a snore. She felt rather than saw Ape 
move toward her. She screamed, waking Benjie, and to keep him awake she 
said, "So your mother's a whore, Benjie? And she's been to bed with that Ape 
there, huh? And now he is your friend? You're trash, Benjie, trash." 

Benjie came at her, his fist clenched, his eyes wide and wild He stood over 
her, his young body trembling, and suddenly Deborah hated herself, made 
herself sick for talking to him as she did. She wanted to take him and put 
his head against her bosom and treat him like the child he was. But that, of 
course, was out of the question now. 

"My mother black, jet black, like a crow. Am I dat black, White Bitch? No. I 
ain't! So who you think fucked my old lady and got me, huh? Who, White 
Bitch? You only get one guess." He trembled, standing above her, ready to 
strike out. 

Deborah covered her face with her hands and cried. She had not wanted to 
hurt him, because he was, for all his bravado, a mere child. But she had and 
she cried now for his wounds, not her own. 

"A Jew man do it. Yeah. Dat's right. I guess 'sides being a nigger, I a Jew, 
too, White Bitch. What'd you think of that, huh?" His temper had been 
growing with his every word. Deborah saw her opening and took it. 

"I'm Jewish, too, Benjie. My mother is and that makes me Jewish, also." She 
tried to smile, to convey to him her feelings, that she felt one and a kind 
with him. It didn't work. He hit her with his fist, a stunning blow 
alongside the head. She fell over and lay as she was. 

Still standing over her Benjie said, through a vale of tears, "Jew White 
Bitch, you pay for my no father. He don't know I here in this world. 
Wouldn't care even if he knew. I wanna' kill every Jew I ever see," he 
howled, crying drunk If nothing else the blow cleared her mind somewhat She 
had been hurt. She was sure that the skin alongside her face would be 
discolored, but that had been her mistake. If she had thought logically 
rather than through panic, she told herself, she would have realized that he 
would not feel compassion for her because she was Jewish, but would know 
only hate. She decided that she had received the blow in all fairness, to 
remind her of her stupidity if nothing pise. 

Benjie grabbed her by the hair of the head and drew back his right hand that 
was tightened into a fist and made ready to hit her again, then the whole 
place was full of noise. There were yells and laughter and swearing and the 
whole gang of boys came down the stairs, dancing, their eyes showing white 
in their heads and their teeth sparkling. All of them were extra hyper, and 
each of them carried armloads of looted goods. 

Deborah looked in surprise at the television sets, the radios, the arm loads 
of clothes and at the boys themselves. Their black faces glistened with 
sweat they smiled and danced and dropped their loot and grinned and poked 
each other and looked guiltily at her and ignored Ape, even though each of 
them had something to say to him. Undaunted, he continued with his stroking 
and rubbing. To Deborah's mind it seemed like a nightmare carnival. She 
could even imagine herself a spectator, at a sort of theatre in the round 
where the audience was brought in to see something they would never 
understand unless they could be made part of it. She was certainly part of 
it. 

Claude was the last one down the stairs, five minutes after all of them were 
there and each had a new bottle, each had taken a big drink. His arrival 
seemed to re-assure the rest of them, they made comments about him, called 
out the various things that they had managed to bring to the basement 
hideaway. "'Ol' Spike got a black 'an white set, dumb mother. I got me a 
colored one, Claude." 

"Fish Brain done went and stole some women's clothes!" another laughed and 
danced around the pile of garments that were indeed made for women. 

"Knock off the shit!" Claude commanded, bringing them all to instant 
silence. He looked at Deborah, still laying on the floor, the left side of 
her face blue from the fist Benjie had laid there. "You still here, huh? 
Thought you might have figured some way to escape by now. Not that there's 
anywhere to go, but...." he left the sentence unfinished and looked at Ape. 
He walked to him and kicked him with all his strength, then said, "Git that 
god-damned thing out of sight." He turned back to Deborah with hate in his 
eyes and asked, "Did he fuck you with his horse cock?" 

Deborah was stunned by his viciousness to Ape as well as by his too direct 
question. She realized that she had been hoping and praying for his return 
and now she was suddenly frightened of him, just as much as she had been by 
Ape. She didn't answer, just clutched her dress about herself and looked at 
him dully. 

Benjie spoke up, saying, "Naw, he don fuck 'er. He went down on her, but I 
kept him from putting that big oT black cock in 'er." 

"You stupid muther!" Claude bellowed, "I told you not to let him get close 
to her. His fucking tongue bigger' most pricks I" They all shouted their 
agreement, laughed and jumped around and rolled their eyes and made bets 
with each other about the size of their cocks. 

Deborah tried to ignore the whole bunch of them, their dirty words and their 
snide remarks about her. She felt that her best hope lay in silence. Then 
Benjie demanded the attention of Claude and getting it, said, "She a Jew 
Bitch. She tol' me. Dat's why I hit 'er." 

Claude smiled down at her, touched her with his shoe and asked, "That right, 
White Honey? You a Jew Bitch? Jew Boy own this store. He let me work here, 
pay me about ten cents an hour. Paid me to sleep here. In this stinking 
hole. That fucldn' liberal Jew real fond of the niggers. He any kin to you, 
Whitey?" He had his hands on his hips, his jaw muscles were knotted in cords 
and his eyes were spilling hate all over her. Her throat felt dry and 
swollen. She wanted to scream at the injustice of it all, to tell him that 
there were many Jew she had met that she hadn't liked and that she had, 
could count, many negroes among her friends. But, she realized that it was 
hopeless, that he had been injured by the man he worked for, and that she 
would not be able to reach him. She did not answer. 

"I ask you a question, I want an answer, Jew Bitch," he said, moving his 
foot so that it rested on her right breast. 

"No," she whispered, close to tears. "I did not know him." 

Claude removed his foot, then turned to the room at large and said, "There's 
only one thing a woman really appreciate, 'specially a white Jew woman, and 
that a black cock." 

A cheer of agreement went up from the crowd, cries of "Lemme' shower." 

"I a gooood teacher, Claude," another said, doing a little dance. 

Claude silenced them all with a wave of his hand. "The best teacher here is 
the one who been taught by the white bitches at the college level. Now, who 
dat?" He spoke, reverting to the argot of the neighborhood, Deborah 
realized, for effect and control of the group. She knew that he was an 
educated man, a smart man, and a hope raced through her. She would be able 
to reason with him, to promise him anything for her own safety, if she could 
just be alone with him. 

"Fish Brain and Spike. I gotta'a job for you two muthers. One block down, 
there is the Evans Furniture and Home Appliance store-if it not a pile of 
ashes by now. You know?" he asked, smiling with all the teeth in his mouth. 
They nodded, returning his smile, their eyes shining, waiting for his 
instructions. "You go there, you git me a mattress, a big one-one of those 
king size jobs if you can, and you bring it back here and well have a 
classroom instruction-and I be the teacher!" He laughed, all the rest of 
them joined in. "Well have ourselves a real party. Get your black asses 
hauling. 

They left on the run, up the stairs, commenting as they went about the 
coming show. Deborah knew that she was to be the-if not the star attraction 
as they would say here in LA-the secondary star. She felt sick and helpless 
and knew her position was utterly hopeless. She couldn't collect her 
thoughts, couldn't get them to function in any one pattern. She felt that 
her only chance was Glaude and then she realized that his hold on the whole 
mob wasn't as great, perhaps, as he thought it was. Under normal 
circumstances it might have been, but all the pent up hate and desire and 
lust was suddenly there for them to let out of their souls and that scared 
her. She knew that she was in for a rough time. 

Claude picked up a bottle of Scotch, said, "You niggers don't know a good 
drink when you see it," causing them to laugh and take drinks from their own 
bottles, and he tilted his up to his own big mouth and then tilted his head 
back and took a long drink. Then he knelt down alongside Deborah and told 
her, in a loud voice, "Drink white Jew," and then whispered to her, for her 
ears alone, "It'll help." Deborah took a long swallow from the bottle, 
burning her throat and causing her to gag. 

Claude ignored her discomfort, said to the other boys, "Let's get some of 
these televisions working and see if they got any shots of us." 

There was a great deal of shouting and looking for outlets and laughter and 
then the room was suffused in glowing television scopes, more than less in 
color. Suddenly they flooded the room, all the channels were broadcasting 
the same thing but the announcers were saying different words so that 
nothing coherent came from any of them. Claude ordered them to put the sets 
on channel four, then there it was, the whole scene, fires and shouts and 
rifle fire and blood and fighting and black faces and dancing and looting 
and buildings falling and the whole world looked like it had gone mad. 

"This is unbelievable," the suave voice of the announcer strained to keep 
control. "No one could ever have thought this could have happened here. The 
word is GET WHITEY. Whatever the cause, it is all happening now. Look out!" 
he called, then the picture was panned to a falling wall of a four story 
building. It hurled itself into the street, sending up sparks and noise that 
filled the microphones and for all the world sounded like an earthquake. 
Flames were everywhere, smoke billowed into the crowded smog-filled air, and 
then the camera was turned so that a group of looters were focused onto the 
screen. There were many of them, but the operator of the lenses panned down 
to a scene that was unbelievable to the whole world and more so to Deborah 
even though she had a better chance of believing it than the other viewers. 
Two boys were struggling with a mattress, a big one, down the sidewalk, as 
other people laughed and ran around them with their arms loaded with other 
stolen goods. "This is just not happening," the announcer said, "The horror 
of looting is one thing, but these two boys with the mattress makes one 
wonder. All their fives they've probably slept on the floor, the white world 
not caring nor doing anything about it. Well, if they make it home and if 
their house is not burning, they'll rest well tonight." He chuckled, then 
the camera picked up some other people knocking in the glass of a Safeway 
store, then swarms of people went in, through the windows and the now 
missing door. "It's too bad we can't get the camera crew inside and watch 
the shopping going on there. We wonder what they choose first, the luxury 
goods or the staples. We hope it's the latter, because this might be a long 
siege." 

Deborah stopped listening. She was aware of a building tension in the room 
from all the boys, whether it was from the stupid words of the television 
announcer or from watching the power that was unleashed by the black 
community, which they had certainly been instrumental in letting loose. She 
realized that the television crew must be somewhere very near because Claude 
had only sent the boys to the next block. She glanced at the stairway, 
hoping against hope that she might be able to make a break. She saw a 
mattress coming down the stairs and shouts of glee rose above the din of the 
television speakers and again she was reminded that all was lost. 

"Man, we got a mattress," Spike said, wiping the sweat from his face. 
"Cain't hardly breathe out there. And hot, man is it ever!" They dropped the 
huge mattress down in front of the television sets, barely missing Deborah. 
"You cats're actors," Claude told them, followed by a roar of agreement from 
the other boys. "You are. Saw you on the television, the big eye, hauling 
that ol' fuck pad right down the street." 

Both Fish Brain and Spike were surprised to hear that they had been on 
television. Neither of them was concerned about all the authorities having 
their faces on file for possible later punishment. Deborah was sure that 
Claude had thought about that, but he gave no hint of it to the two boys. He 
looked at Deborah and told her, "That for you, White Chickey, you the star 
of the forthcoming show." 

Again they all yelled and clapped and one or two of them took her arms and 
lifted her to her feet and threw her down on the mattress. Her dress flew 
open, revealing her soft, white body, her full, firm breasts and the soft 
wisp of young, sparse pubic hair that was curled softly down between her 
legs. All of them gasped. Deborah pulled her shredded dress tightly about 
herself, and lay like a wounded animal on the mattress. "Show time! Show 
time!" they started yelling, grouping themselves about her. They reached out 
their black, pink-palmed hands and tried to grab her firm white tits, a 
couple of them made a try for her thighs, and all of them talked about her 
body, using words that were part of their everyday vocabulary that shocked 
Deborah. She recoiled from them as though they were vipers. 

"Let's have a drawing to see who first," John, the second in command spoke 
up, his eyes running over her body. 

"Yeah, a drawin', a drawin' " they clamored. 

"Shit on that noise!" Claude bellowed. "I the leader, I the teacher. You 
fuckers watch, but don't nobody gonna' get a piece until I got mine. You 
draw for after me, I don't care, but there no argument about who first." 

There was noisy disagreement, but finally, all of them seeing that Claude 
was going to stand his ground, they did have a drawing. It was rigged, 
however. John declared himself to be second in command, therefore first 
after Claude. Fish Brain and Spike had hauled the mattress down, so they 
were permitted to forego the drawing and be third and fourth. The rest of 
them eagerly drew the numoered slips of paper and proclaimed their positions 
in loud voices, then turned their attention to Deborah again and told her 
what they had in mind for the two of them on her together when their turn 
came. She was sick. 

Benjie shyly took a slip of paper, the last one left, and then said, "We 
forgot Ape. He ready. He been ready all night, since you fuckers left. I 
hadda stop him twicer." 

Ape came loping to the mattress from where ever he had been, his huge cock 
in his hand, and fell on top of Deborah. She screamed in terror. Suddenly 
they were all on the mattress, pulling him off and copping feels of her, 
hands on her white breasts, fingers cruelly digging into her tender thighs, 
on her curved, rounded mounds and down her long, well-tapered legs. Claude 
swore and pulled and kicked at them until they were off the mattress, 
leaving Deborah in the middle of it, her panting and heaving body exposed to 
all their lust filled eyes. He sat on the mattress alongside her, his face 
sweaty, the lights from the television scopes giving him a strange glow. 

"I tell you once already, I first. You muthers try anything like that 'gin 
and I take her out of here." 

There were murmurs of consent and discontent, but they backed away, then 
came toward the kingsize mattress again, slowly, saying, "Let's git started. 
Show time, show time, show time!" They chanted in unison. 

Claude reached over and took the small rag of a dress that Deborah was using 
unsuccessfully to cover her nudity and tore it off her. She lay completely 
naked, curled up to hide herself from their depraved stares. She tried to 
cover her large breasts with one hand and arm, and with the other covered 
her crotch, her hand laying on the soft pubic hair there, only increasing 
the passion that each of them felt for her. The television continued to 
project images of fire and smoke and shots being fired and water used 
ineffectively on the buildings. Sirens screamed constantly, coming strong 
through the speakers then diminishing only to be replaced by another coming 
and another and another. 

Claude stood, removed his sweat-stained shirt and put one hand inside the 
other and posed in the classical muscle man stance. He drew approving nods 
and cheers and yells from the rest of the boys as he slowly turned around 
for all of them to see, to hold the full view of his muscled torso in their 
minds. Sweat glistened on his well-developed body, and he flexed his muscles 
time and again. Then he removed his shoes, then his trousers, drawing low, 
lewd whistles from the others. He laughed, poked a couple of them, and then 
removed his shorts. 

He stood tall above Deborah, his body rippling with sleek, hard muscles. His 
shoulders looked to be three yards wide from where Deborah lay. His hips 
were slim, his thighs heavily muscled like a basket-ball player's, and his 
cock was long, and big, and hung down between his legs like a baseball bat, 
black and strong. 

"Look at a man, you fuckers!" he commanded, turning slowly and flexing his 
muscles as he did so. "This," he continued, taking his huge cock in his 
hands, "Is a prick, a black cock. It for fucking, for filling that little, 
tight, pink cunt there," he said, pointing to Deborah's hand-covered crotch. 
"But it take a real man to know how to do it I teach all you muthers, you 
just forgit everything and pay attention." They groaned at the sight of 
Deborah laying waiting for him. He knew that he had captured their minds and 
their imagination. He could no longer, he was certain, keep their minds off 
the girl. He knelt down alongside her, said, "You muthers remember you don't 
never wanna' fuck a woman til she ready. Never! She gotta be prepared. Now 
you watch, muthers, and learn." 

Deborah had been undergoing some strange sensations. She had seen the beauty 
of him as he removed his shirt, had realized instantly that he was trying to 
keep their minds on him and that he wanted them to remember that he was boss 
of the whole bunch and that he was capable of being boss because of the very 
muscles that he was displaying to them. Then he had removed his trousers and 
stood like an ebony-pagan god' above her, a virile and strong and sure one. 
She had been amazed at the size and enormity of his penis, but she was 
certain that other women had taken it inside them and that she too, would be 
able to do so. 

She wasn't at all sure how and she was certain that she would suffer 
painfully for having to do so, but she hoped that, knew that he knew what he 
was about. She had to admit to herself that he was magnificent, that he had 
a build that every man should be jealous of. She didn't look forward to 
being raped, certainly not in front of so many people, but she decided that 
she would prefer he do it than any of the rest of them. The television and 
the mayhem that was being shown there strangely excited her, too. She 
thought fleetingly that she must be losing her mind, watching the world 
outside going mad and she laying on a mattress waiting to be raped and 
rather than feeling shame and disgust, she felt nothing, just slightly 
repulsed by her own inexplicable desires. 

His hands were on her shoulders, then his face came toward her, his strong 
lips closed down upon her soft ones. He kissed her with a lack of passion 
that surprised her. Then he raised his head and said to the group around the 
mattress, "The first kiss should be easy like, just one of promise. Now 
watch this one." He placed his lips on hers again and her nostrils filled 
with the smell of him, musty and masculine and sweaty. He pressed his mouth 
against hers, then opened his lips, ran his tongue over her lips, then 
forced them open and ran his whole tongue inside her mouth, filling it full, 
then withdrew it abruptly and said to the boys. "I frenched her. She's 
liking it more all the time." 

God-damn him, Deborah thought, he's reading my mind. She had liked it. It 
felt so much nicer and more gentle than having Benjie's cock in her mouth 
and she had the impulse to tell him so. He continued speaking, however, and 
ignored her. "I gonna' do the same thing again, and then again, until she 
respond. Watch." He put his lips on her again, covering her whole mouth, and 
sucked at her lips. Then he took his pink tongue and pushed it into her 
mouth and over her tongue and into her throat, then withdrew it and put it 
back and moved his lips against hers and then shoved it down her throat 
further, and suddenly she was responding to him. Without wanting to, her own 
tongue moved against his and she gently sucked at and then pulled his tongue 
deep into her. Heat shot all over her body and she forgot the rest of them, 
forgot that she was being forced to put on a show for a bunch of juvenile 
maniacs. He let her suck and nibble at his tongue and he kept pushing it 
further into her throat and then he took it away, pulled away from her mouth 
and looked her firmly in the eyes, searching for acceptance there. He smiled 
fleetingly at her, then spoke to the others. 

"See what I mean? A woman, even a white woman, gonna appreciate you if you a 
real man. I let her have my tongue and she done sucked on it a little and 
now I gonna reward her more. You fuckers watch." 

Deborah heard the indrawn breath of all the boys and felt his hands on her 
soft, yet firm and abused breasts. He took one in each of his large black 
hands and squeezed it, causing the nipple to stand up, pink and firm, and 
kissed that, gently, then swung his mouth to the other and did the same 
thing. He sucked at the soft nipple, then moved more of her tit into his 
mouth and sucked at it with his pink tongue, until the nipple began to 
harden, until Deborah felt a wonderful sensation creeping into her breast, a 
mild fire building there. Then he raised his head and said, "Boys, you done 
see a woman gettin' ready. Look at this pink, hard nipple," he instructed, 
taking it in his fingers and pulling up on it so that her whole breast was 
lifted up from her body, the luscious whiteness of it enhanced by the almost 
visible blue veins running through it just under the skin. "Now this one, 
see it still soft." He took the nipple of her other breast in his fingers 
and tugged at it, but it was still soft. He hurt her and she tried to move 
away from him, but he closed his big hand onto her firm soft breast and 
said, whether to her or to them she didn't know, "We make 'em both alike." 

He continued to play with her other nipple, the one that he had made hard 
with his tongue, using his fingers to massage and rub it, and his mouth 
closed over the smooth whiteness of her other breast. He touched the nipple 
with his tongue, pushed it against his teeth, then sucked at it, gently, 
then took all of her into his mouth that he could get and bit and sucked and 
suddenly she could feel herself responding, she wanted to push his head down 
hard onto her, but she dared not. He sucked at her ferociously, his tongue, 
hot, working and licking at her soft flesh and he greedily sucked and bit 
until she couldn't stand the pressure building inside her and she groaned 
and he moved his mouth to her other breast and enveloped it in his hot mouth 
and she groaned again and suddenly, without warning, she put her hand behind 
his neck and he took his mouth from her and laughed up at the gaping faces 
in the circle around them. 

"You see what happen', my students, you fuckers," his breathing shortened 
noticeably. "Look at them sweet nipples! Hard as rocks, they are. Look at 
the shape of this white tit. It full here," he ran his hand around the base 
of her breasts, leaving little strokes of fire there, "And then it come out 
here, sweep up here to dis," he leaned over and kissed her now thoroughly 
hardened nipples, "Little pink rose bud, and it a thing of beauty, and it to 
be kissed by men, like me." He buried his head again on her soaring bosom 
and kissed and bit and sucked and Deborah rose against him, pushed her 
breasts to his black face and her arm raced around his neck and she pulled 
him to her, down hard on to her excited and heated breasts. Her nipples 
actually hurt for his attention. 

He moved his head down, beneath her breasts, and kissed the soft whiteness 
of her rounded, smooth stomach. His pink tongue licked out, then his strong 
teeth took sharp little bites of her flesh, sending thrill after thrill over 
her and through her. She forgot about everything, the boys, the clamor from 
the television, the shriek and scream of the sirens, and surrendered herself 
to his hot, searching mouth. Her whole body came alive and responded to him, 
burning where he kissed her, then the fire was penetrating deep into her 
insides when he nibbled at the flat smooth flesh of her stomach and she 
wanted him, wanted to feel him alive inside her, and her body began to move 
and rotate under him and he stopped and moved slightly away from her and 
said, "You muthers see that. You see that hot little white body squirming 
and twisting and burning under this black mouth? Gimme' a bottle of Scotch!" 

Deborah heard the intake of breath from all of them, separately and 
together, a':d she realized that her own had been as sharp. She hated him. 
How dare he use her to demonstraf e his own ability that had been, she was 
sure, woiked on numerous times until he had perfected it to show himself off 
as he was now doing? She watched him lift the bottle to his thick lips, the 
very ones that had just given her such pleasure and she wanted to smack them 
with her fist until the blood poured from them. Then he handed the bottle to 
her, forced her to take a drink. She did gratefully, again the stuff burning 
her throat, rocking her v. liole body. She trembled and was jolted into rem 
inhering what was happening to her. She covered herself the best she could 
with her hands. 

"Now fucker students," Claude drawled, "Just cause you got one thing working 
to your advantage on a woman, you can't forget all about that and continue. 
No sireee," he instructed, lowering his lips to hers again. 

Deborah tried to resist, clamped her mouth tightly, and clenched her teeth. 
But it was no use. He put his strong lips on hers and moved them against her 
softer yielding ones and without wanting to her lips parted and his tongue 
entered her mouth and she took it with her own and sucked and wanted more of 
it than he would let her have. The alcohol burned deep within her stomach, 
stroking the fire that was already growing there. 

He withdrew his mouth from hers and kissed her white, jutting breasts again, 
then moved his mouth onto the still hard nipple and sucked and pulled and 
bit and then did the same with the other and then away from them and down to 
her stomach and kissed and bit and the fires suddenly sprang to life and 
Deborah thought that she would be consumed by them and he worked and his 
pink tongue flicked all over the smooth roundness of her stomach. 

His hand worked across her thigh, down between her legs, and Deborah closed 
her legs tightly to prevent his searching hand from reaching her vagina, 
knowing that it was headed there. But the heat from it, the hard feel of it 
between her soft thighs, she could not stop. She released the pressure 
slightly, relaxed the muscles in her thighs, and his hand moved up and 
closed over her hot little waiting pussy. His head moved down and he sunk 
his face in her pubic hair and he kissed her there and then she felt his 
teeth on her between he legs and her body rose up to his face and he raised 
his head and smiled up at her between the fullness of her breasts. 

Deborah covered her eyes with her hands. She had never felt so ashamed and 
degraded in her life. She felt betrayed by her body, felt that it responded 
and yearned toward the heat of his mouth without her permission. She felt 
her legs being pushed apart and she made no move to counteract the force of 
his hands. It would have been useless anyway, and she discovered that she 
really didn't want to. The thought almost made her cry. He spread her legs 
far apart, rubbed his hand over her hot, pulsating cunt and she moved 
against it, the hardness of his pink-palmed hand against her soft, tender 
slit. "This the source of all men's joy, boys," he said, continuing to rub 
and massage her slowly responding little cunt, "And you fuckers gotta know 
how to treat it. Dis de lips, so called," he said, tracing the flanges of 
her vagina with his finger. "De nice and soft and warm. Yeah!" He breathed 
the last word, causing all the gaping audience to suck in their breaths 
together. Deborah uncovered her eyes and looked at what had become beasts of 
prey to her: their eyes stood out from their heads and the whites showed big 
against their black skinned faces and their teeth sparkled and reflected the 
weird light from the television scopes. Sirens still wailed in the 
background, fires seemed to be licking out of the television sets, and 
Claude continued. 

"It ain't never ready until it get ready with a little help, til the 
moisture start flowing, but you can see the inside," he moved her vaginal 
lips apart with his fingers and revealed the wet pinkness to all their 
locked stares, and "Dis de flanges, de ragged edges, so called, and they 
fold around a good stiff cock and suck at it, warm like a puppy's mouth, and 
draw it in to de inner heat." He stopped talking and ran his hard finger 
around the inner edge of her cunt lips and it hurt her and she tried to move 
away but he held on and moved his finger deep into her and out slowly and 
before she knew what was happening it felt good and she involuntarily moved 
against his finger, then he withdrew it and held it up for all to see. "See 
de wetness, the sweet essence of this little pussy?" He held it under his 
nose and inhaled deeply and his head rocked back and forth in simulated 
pleasure. "Ah, dat nice and sweet to the smell," and he moved his finger 
under their noses and they all dragged deeply and groaned at their supposed 
pleasure. "But it ain't ready, not yet," he said and he moved to her and 
closed his mouth over her again. 

Claude moved his hard sweaty body so that it was prone on Deborah, his sex 
lengthened and laying hard on her stomach. He opened her soft lips with his 
own, then gently slid his wet, hard tongue into her mouth. He felt gratitude 
and delight when she took, accepted his tongue with her own and sucked and 
bit into it. He shoved it deep into her throat, moved his hips so that his 
prick moved against her soft, white stomach, and pushed down on her supple 
breasts with his muscled chest. 

Deborah felt the full weight of him on her, and she wanted to move from 
under him, to throw him off, but it was hopeless. He was much heavier than 
she and his mouth closed over hers and his lips burned into hers and her 
mouth was open and accepting the hot, wetness of his tongue and she liked 
it. She felt his hard cock on her soft stomach and it seemed to throb and 
radiate heat through her flesh and into the insides of her. He weighed 
heavily on her burning nipples and his chest moved against hers and it felt 
good and warm and protective to her. With him on top of her, she knew that 
she was partially protected from the gloating eyes of the others. Her hands 
went across his broad back and moved over the taut muscles there, marveling 
at the smoothness of the skin. His muscles felt like hard rubber to her 
touch and she enjoyed the feel of them. 

Claude moved his mouth from hers and kissed and sucked at the lusciousness 
of her soft resilient breasts. Her hot breath burned into the top of his 
skull, heating the center of his being. He felt his sex throbbing against 
her warm, soft, body. 

He wanted to plow into her, to shove the hard prick deep into her white 
belly and grind and shove and destroy the superiority of her whiteness for 
all time. But he knew he wouldn't, not that way at least. He felt sorry for 
her, he was determined that she was not to be abused by the others if he 
could help it Then he thought, she's just another white bitch, no better no 
worse than the next one. But his mind told him that he was lying to himself, 
and he had to agree. He was certain that she was a virgin, and he didn't 
want to hurt her, not deep down inside himself, and he knew that he was 
bigger by far than most men. But he had to, he had to fuck her gently and 
strongly because he knew that in spite of desire to do so he would never be 
able to stop the rest of them, that they would ravish her beautiful white 
body until all of them had pumped their lewd, hot sperm inside her and that 
there was little he could do about it. He only hoped that he could make them 
come at her one at a time rather than all at once. Bape had an ugly 
connotation in his mind and he could not associate it with what he was doing 
to her even though she was held captive. He thought that she understood his 
position, his desire to help her, but he wasn't sure. He moved against her 
soft body, virginal in the extreme, and lost control of his thinking, 
wanting nothing greater than to fuck her, to shove his hard cock into her 
tight pussy and plunge and rock her very soul with the blackness of him. 

He kissed her stomach, the soft white smooth flesh quivering under his mouth 
and teeth, and then moved his head down to her mound and buried his face 
there, the soft pubic hairs tickling and teasing him. He spread her legs 
with his hands, and felt the lips of her virginal vagina and the heat shot 
up his arm in maddening rushes. 

He had forgotten about the audience standing around him, about the 
television spewing forth the madness that he had helped create in the 
streets. Then he opened his eyes, wanting to feast them on the soft white 
flesh under him and it all rushed in on him, the roar of the firing and the 
roaring of the fires that seemed to be destroying the whole city and the 
pinging of shots hitting the stone of the streets and buildings. Then he was 
angry, at himself, his position, his whole world, thinking that he had 
thought himself a big man just because he could organize a bunch of stupid 
boys to follow him, and he jerked her legs apart and moved his head between 
them. 

He breathed in the sweetness of her cunt and looked at the pinkness of it, 
the undisturbed quality of it, and thought that he would faint from the 
overpowering delight of it He closed his mouth around the soft quivering 
lips and bit them, hard, and felt them recede from his searching tongue. He 
swore at himself for being such a fool, and relented with his teeth and used 
his tongue to explore the softness of her. He moved his hands to her inner 
thighs and marveled at the softness of her skin, the purity of it under his 
touch. He placed his thumbs on each side of her small, tight slit and 
pressed outward and upward and moved the fleshy, hair-lined lips apart. He 
slid his tongue into the opening and her cunt closed around it. He stopped 
where he was, and probed deeper into her sweetness, and then withdrew it and 
knew that she had tried to hold him inside her. He moved it back in and 
deeper into her and took her clitoris with his tongue and licked it and 
moved it and she cried out and moved herself up into his face and his tongue 
went wild, searching for the total sweetness and honey nectar of her pussy. 
, Deborah had discerned his mood. She could tell by the rush of him upon her 
that he was thinking, not of what he was doing but perhaps of what he 
shouldn't be doing. She felt the thoughts occur to him, could only guess at 
their structure, but knew that when he slammed his body into her, pushed his 
hard heavy sex into her soft, yielding belly, that he was hating her because 
of her white softness. She could not help but to respond to him, to prevent 
her body from seeking the maddening games that were being played upon it. 

She had felt his tongue licking at her tender stomach and the muscles there 
had contracted and then relaxed and then received his kisses and biting and 
she had wanted more of it. Then he had abruptly and not gently moved her 
legs apart and she knew that he was once again thinking of something outside 
himself, and his tongue had probed cruelly into her tight opening and she 
had wanted to be rid of it. Without warning, she didn't, didn't ever want 
that wet muscle out of her little hot pussy. She wanted it to move all the 
way into her, up to the very top of her, and lick and suck at her very 
insides. She moved against his face without meaning to. 

Claude withdrew from her, feeling an intenseness from the 'students' that 
wafted against their nakedness and alarmed him. He drew himself up between 
the wonder of her thighs, looked at the slightly open moistened cunt, and 
said to the boys, "It time. See the movement, the contraction of the walls, 
here," he touched her softly with his finger, burning her flesh, "That 
waitin' for this," he moved his other hand to his hardened cock and rubbed 
his thumb over the throbbing head, purple and topped with a speck of white 
wetness. "It gonna' be a tight fit, ramming into that white hi belly, but it 
gonna go." A groan of pleasure and delight went up from the crowd "We's 
ready if everybody else is," he smiled at them. 

Tuck er," 

"Git it in 'er," 

"Put dat old black bone in deep, man," they panted, moving closer and 
drinking from the always full bottles they held in their hands. 

"Now she gonna fight it, men, they all does, so I may need some help just 
gittin' it in. Mighty big cock to be stuffin' in that tight, sweet little 
slit," he paused, closed his eyes and mock ecstasy, and they roared. "Now, 
Benjie, you found her, you go up by de head. Ape, you help watch her, you 
come back here, if I lose out, you try next," he waited for Ape to move 
behind him, the crazy look on his face making him sick as it almost always 
did, but he wanted him placed so that if he made a movement he would be 
instantly aware of it and perhaps be able to block it "Now, Fish Brain and 
Spike, you boys done been on the television and you brought the mattress, so 
you on either side of her to hold her arms if I say so," and he smiled at 
all of them, his hard cock sticking straight out and slightly upwards from 
his body. "And me and dis, we gonna pump her full of joy." 

Deborah was trembling with fear, yet her body was ready for Claude's. She 
tried to unravel all his confusing thoughts, but she couldn't. She realized 
with half a mind that what he was doing was for her benefit as much as for 
his, that in his own way he was trying to protect her, did not want to bring 
harm nor pain to her. She had no other choice but to trust him, her fate 
already thrust into his hands, but the sight of his hard cock almost 
panicked her. Her mind reeled back to the sight of Tom fucking her aunt, 
plunging in and out of her hungry hair circled cunt, and she couldn't 
remember enough about it to compare the size of him to the size of Claude. 
She would have guessed that Claude's brick-hard pole was at least a foot 
long, and the head was huge and looked ready to burst. She didn't think that 
she would ever live through having that stuck into her virginal opening. She 
shivered in terror. 

Claude spread the lips apart with his finger and slowly put the nead of his 
cock against the quivering wet opening. He had to hold himself back to keep 
from plunging on into her, but ne did. He leaned over her and put his mouth 
on hers, opened her lips with his own and eased his tongue into her hot, 
groaning mouth. He let her get used to the feel of both his cock and his 
tongue, then he slipped it on gently between her teeth, to the back of her 
throat, and she put her hands around his neck and drew him hard against her 
and sucked at his tongue. 

He brought his hips slightly forward and tried to work the huge head of his 
cock into the tight resisting slit between her wide-spread legs. It wouldn't 
go. He eased off just a bit, rammed his tongue all the way into her mouth, 
tightened his muscles in his buttocks, and shoved and went into her and she 
flipped her head sideways and screamed, and he knew that he was hurting her 
unbearably. He sought her mouth with his again and gently kissed her and she 
accepted his tongue into her mouth and met it with her own. He let his cock 
rest just inside her, the tightness of her hot, throbbing pussy cutting into 
the soft head cruelly. He gave her time to get used to his hard cock in her, 
time for her to enjoy the feel of his tongue again, then tightened up again 
and brought all his muscle power to his hips and shoved his hard prick in 
with all his strength and she almost bit his tongue off. She moved her head 
sideways, ridding herself of that one organ at least, and the pain he caused 
her from shoving it into her vaginal slit was almost too much to bear. She 
tried to move from under him, but it was no use. Every movement on her part 
only increased the almost unbearable pain throbbing down there between her 
wide-stretched thighs. 

Claude tried to shove on into her, but he was too big. She was crying, 
begging him to take it out of her, but he couldn't. He sought her mouth with 
his again, but she avoided it, so he shoved again, sinking his lust-hardened 
rod of flesh deeper and she screamed and clenched her legs close in 
objection to his monstrous invasion. Then, he saw his chance, as she 
momentarily relaxed her straining thighs, and jabbed on in to that hot, 
tight opening. Deborah's eyes bulged wide at the sudden unexpected 
impalement and she screamed and fainted dead away. 

Claude knew that he was only about half way into her and she had already 
fainted. It is for the best his mind told him, so he motioned to two of the 
boys and each of them took one of her legs and pulled in opposite directions 
and Claude cupped the soft, still quivering mounds of her buttocks in his 
hands and gritting his teeth rammed on into her, his own pain intense from 
the tightness. He felt a tearing and breaking and ripping deep down in her 
defenseless little cunt, but it was done and could never be undone and he 
too, was suffering from the constricting tightness of her. He eased on into 
her until his pelvis was touching hers, and raised himself slightly and 
looked at the two patches of pubic hairs pressed tightly together, and then 
watched as his own black, thick prick moved out of her tight opening, the 
pink, soft edges moving down the length of his prick. He eased himself back 
into her, without too much stress, and moved all the way to the very 
resistance of her final opening, and rested and enjoyed the fire from her 
body pulsating hotly against his cock. 

He watched as her eyes fluttered open, the sweat covered brow furrowing into 
ridges of pain, and he tried to smile at her. She would not meet his eyes, 
pissing him off, so he moved deeper into her and she groaned and tried to 
move her legs and only then did he remember that they were being held apart 
by other hands. He motioned that they were to let them go. Released, they 
fell as they were and she groaned again. 

Claude slowly moved out of her, then eased himself back in, and she 
whimpered and cried and did not try to escape him. He pushed down deep into 
her and stayed there and put his mouth in the hollow of her neck and licked 
the sweat away. 

Deborah had known that he was going to plunge into her, to split her little 
virginal cunt asunder, but she had not come anywhere near anticipating the 
pain that it gave her. She had felt that she was being split apart when he 
first pushed into her and that was only a beginning. Then, when he had 
pushed into her a second time the pain had been too much. She had felt as 
though a hot poker, a large one, was being shoved into her insides. She felt 
herself tear and break and then the whole thing had been blotted out 
mercifully by her fainting. The pain had also brought her back. She felt the 
fullness of him deep within her, throbbing against the forever broken and 
stretched walk of her helpless pussy, the huge head shoved deep into her 
belly, feeling as though it lay pressed next to her heart, and she knew that 
anything she did would only make it worse. She lay, stuffed and helpless, 
under him. 

Claude had to move. He nibbled at her neck, felt no response from her, so he 
moved his hard prick down, and she did respond, her body convulsing against 
his, and then withdrew it, all but the head and then started back in and she 
begged him and put her small fists on his chest and tried to push him away 
but that only caused his need to increase so he plunged back into her 
straining cunt faster than he would have, and then withdrew and started back 
and stopped half-way and repeated the same thing, only this time shoving it 
in up to the hilt and she groaned as the pain miraculously lessened and her 
leg slid over his and he moved back out of her and put his mouth on hers and 
she readily accepted it and kissed his lips with hers and probed with her 
tongue for his. 

He fed her his tongue slowly, pushing it into her and sliding his cock back 
full into her pulsating hot cunt and withdrew it again, not leaving it 
there, and her other leg snaked around his, and he felt a slight pressure 
there, hot against his thigh, and he plunged back in, hard, and the pressure 
stopped on his leg, then it was there again and he lost all track of time 
and action and plowed wildly in and out of her, his hard cock demanding 
satisfaction as he felt her own involuntary reactions beginning to take hold 
of her tortured body. 

He built up to a frenzied pitch, driving his hard cock deep into her and 
then drawing it out and felt the pulling of her hands and legs on his and 
plowed and plunged and gave her long stroking motions and then it was there 
ready to burst forth and she slammed herself against him and he banged into 
her and he knew that she was ready to explode and his own body took over, 
independent of his mind, and drove hard to reach a ceiling of relief and 
felt it building deep within his balls and felt them banging against her 
soft buttocks and he rammed and jerked and knew that she was exploding and 
then he did, spewing his hot, white cum deep into her little soft pussy and 
he ground and she swirled her hips against his and all thought and feeling 
except that one overpowered him and he pushed and pushed and ground it was 
there, all of it, spent deep within her. He collapsed on top of her and 
enjoyed the softness of her hands on his back, light like a butterfly, and 
knew that he had just had the best piece of ass that had ever existed in the 
world and his mind said it was a white piece and that somehow made it all 
that much better. 

He never wanted to break the connection between them. He knew that as soon 
as he did he would either be replaced by one of the many who had watched the 
whole thing or he would have the damndest fight on his hands that he had 
ever had. He wanted this one for himself for all time and there was no 
choice for him to make because it could never be. Aside from the fact that 
he had raped her, he was black and she was white and that was that. It could 
never happen. He knew it. The only thing that he could do was not be around 
to watch what the rest of them did to her. He felt helpless and more guilty 
than he had ever felt in his life. He reluctantly slipped his deflated prick 
out of the soft, still pulsating folds of her open vagina and lay alongside 
her. He wanted to say something to her but he couldn't. There was absolutely 
no hope he could give her. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Deborah lay alongside Claude, her emotions crazily mixed, hating him, then 
withdrawing the thought from her mind, then hating herself because of her 
feelings. She lay as he had left her, obscenely naked, her legs slightly 
open, the moist pinkness of her vaginal lips there for all the lust filled 
eyes of the other boys. She couldn't explain to herself the 
'no-longer-caring' feeling that she had. Surprised that she had, after all, 
enjoyed being raped and caused pain, and ... she had to admit that there had 
been wild, untamed moments when she had loved it. 

Her body slowly returned to her own commands and she drew her legs together, 
a useless gesture, since she had nothing on anyway. She slowly accepted the 
mayhem on the various television screens, in living color, and then looked 
beyond them. She gasped when she looked at Ape. He was standing directly in 
her line of vision, where Claude had placed him earlier, and he was still 
working his hands over his mammoth pole. His eyes were fastened on Deborah, 
a sickening glint in them, and spittle dribbled haphazardly down his chin. 
Deborah put her hand over her eyes to blot out the vision of him. 

"C'mon, Claude, our turn now to fuck that white bitch," one of the boys 
drawled, setting the rest of them to howling and demanding their turns with 
her. Although she was not touching Claude, she could feel him tense up, knew 
that his mind was busy for her. She wanted to reach out to him, to let him 
know that she appreciated him, but she knew that it would never work. Her 
situation was hopeless. They were all going to take their turns in spilling 
their obscene cum up every orifice of her body and there was nothing anyone 
in the world could do about it now. The chance had been missed a hundred 
years ago when all the promises to them had been made and broken a 
thousandfold. 

"Shut de fuck up, you muthers. John, de number two, he next in that 
deZtcious cunt. I gonna' show her how a man fuck. Shit on dat gettin' her 
ready like Claude say. Not de number two!" John informed the rest of them, 
dropping onto the mattress alongside Deborah. 

She moved, placed her whole shivering body next to Claude's, the total 
length of it, and cried. 

Claude spoke slowly and carefully to John, but his words were for all of 
them. "Look at them people loaded with Charlie's best shit man," he nodded 
toward the television sets. "I ain't gonna' miss out on none of that, not 
Claude. This black boy gonna git him some threads, man, and some shiny 
sparklin' rings-one for each black finger. Yeah." He held his hands out and 
spread nis fingers wide as though they were already loaded with diamonds. 
"It there for all of black men, we just have to hep' ourselves. Dat's all. 
Just go in one of them stores and take what we choose, don't wait for no 
wrappin'. No siree, it all free. Not for de askin'-just for the takin'." All 
of them, including John, were glued to the television sets, amazed at the 
number of black people running through the streets with a fantastic 
assortment of looted goods: some carried television sets, portables and huge 
ones that took two people to handle, all sorts of clothing, heaped high in 
their arms, and others drank from oottles held up high in what would under 
other circumstances pass for toasts, and the fires leaped and danced and the 
dust rose up in billowing clouds from the falling and collapsing walls of 
buildings. 

Claude paused, waiting for them all to look closely and see what they were 
missing out on. Seeing his chance, seeing that all their minds and being 
were taken with what was going on on the television scopes in front of them, 
he continued: "An' this ain't gonna' last forever," he reminded them. He 
knew that they had turned their attention back to him. "So, we gotta' do, 
what we gotta' do, now. Them white muthers are gonna' get the whole Army 
down here and they's gonna' get them stores closed and protected. They's 
gonna' stop that shopping just for the takin'. An' it gonna' be soon. You 
all heard the man on the television say, they gonna' call up the National 
Guard. So we don't have long. This black boy, he gonna' get him some things 
he been wantin'. "Some things he can use. To dress up in for the night, to 
go out struttin' in the street-if there be one when this is finished, and 
more than that, I gonna' find me a gun. Yeah. Them white muthers ain't 
gonna' take me without no fight. NO siree. Some of you ain't nearly men yet, 
but that ain't gonna' make a shit to those revenge wantin' whiteys. Not a 
shit! I ain't never seen a store for guns here. Anybody seen one?" 

He stopped talking and his eyes searched the group of boys. He did know 
where there was a gun store. He doubted seriously if it had been broken 
into. But, it was not far enough away from where they were, and his thoughts 
were directed to getting all of them out of there and away from Deborah. 

"Dere a gun store T)out eight blocks straight West of here," one of them 
spoke. "I been thinkin the same thing myself." 

Claude did have an amazing body. Tall, broad shouldered, slim hipped, and 
that cruel rod of his that had been in her tight virginal vagina, 
stretching, breaking and tearing, hung down, limp again, causing Deborah to 
think that he was huge beyond belief: she wondered how she had ever 
succeeded in taking all of that inside her. 

Her glance slipped past Claude and rested on Ape. She cried out and covered 
her eyes with her hands again. Claude heard her cry out, had guessed what 
had caused her to do so. He spoke directly to John, not bothering to include 
the rest of them in his discourse. 

"You stupid muther, that why you number two and that why you gonna' always 
be number two. We have our next lection, you still gonna' be number two if 
not maybe three or four. Sure," he turned his attention back to the rest of 
them, "We can lay around here and bang this little white bitch, sure that 
can be. We can all watch, wait for the whole group to do it. And when we 
finally haul our black asses to the street, there's not gonna' be nuthin' 
left for us. Nuthing! Now, man if you want to stay here and screw your 
brains out on that little white cunt, that you business. But de rest of us, 
we gonna' git what we can git while it dere to git. She ain't nothin. Just 
another cunt." He paused for a couple of seconds, then let his eyes sweep 
around the room again before he turned back to John. 

"We git us some good threads, the best men, you be hot shit boys. You won't 
have to drag some cunt in to fuck 'er, she come all by herself." 

"Yeah, dat right. He give de word man." Came from the boys. 

"He know what he talk about. He our leader." 

Deborah hoped they were right. She found herself praying that they would 
listen and take his advice. He was giving her a chance to escape and she was 
certainly going to take it, if he could just manage to make the rest of them 
leave. Deborah watched and listened to Claude, her hopes risinj with his 
every word. She hoped, prayed that he was right, that he knew what he was 
doing, that he could persuade the rest of them to leave and per haps give 
her a chance to escape. She glued her eyes on him, her mind recording his 
every word, his every thought, anticipating what he was going to say next 
and marveled at him, at his ability to sway a mob. And a mob it was. 

Deborah trembled with fright, fearful that he would not succeed, even though 
she was watching him do just that. Much to her delight, there was a loose 
agreement among them, and Claude began to map out a plan, one that Deborah 
knew had not been in his mind until that very moment. All of them would 
leave together, would traverse the street in a bunch, so that not one of 
them would be bothered by others. He pointed out to them that there was mob 
violence, mayhem in the streets. Also, he made them realize that there was a 
certain safety in numbers. 

Claude told them they would all go to the gun store first, that each of them 
would select the type of gun he wanted and take what ammunition they thought 
necessary. Then, he pointed out, they could thereafter protect themselves, 
and they could, once armed, more easily acquire the other things that they 
wanted. He promised them the delights of undisturbed stores, on other 
streets, that had not been reached yet by the roaming mobs of people. He 
pointed at the television sets, said, "Man, look at that street. Look at 
those cameras. Look where they are. Now all we gotta' do is sweep past those 
white muthers, turn right at dat block, and we got us a whole, free shopping 
area. Yeah. All by ourselves. Now which you muthers gonna'a stay here and 
fuck you self to death while the rest of us are getting rich?" 

"I does not!" 

"Not me." 

"I go with de leader!" 

"Dat right, Claude say go, I goes." The boys spoke, ready to go anywhere he 
might tell them to. 

For all of them their wildest dreams were being fulfilled. Each of them saw 
his favorite item resting in the window of some store in his mind's eye, 
that they had never hoped to own. Now it was all there for them, waiting, 
ready for the taking. Their eyes were big and the whites shone and their 
smiles were joyful. They clapped and danced, reminding Deborah of a movie 
she had seen about a tribe of Africans and their tribal dance. 

"Hey, man, what "bout a set of rubber?" One of them asked, apparently his 
dream of owning a car overwhelming all other thoughts in his mind. "We needs 
a car. We haul our stuff in style, man. If n we had a car." 

"You a dumb muther," Claude told him, "Ain't no cars gettin' up and down 
them streets. No one can drive there. There's fire and there's bricks and 
whole walls in dem streets. Dey all filled with rubble. We don't need no 
wheels, man, we strong. We find what we want, we carry it back here. Dis 
gonna' be our headquarters, man. Ain't no whites even near this place. We 
got a good warehouse right here." 

They all laughed and sung out their agreement with Claude. They were ready 
to go, to run out into the street and join the party there. Deborah could 
see that and she wondered why Claude didn't. She hoped that he would, that 
he would dress quickly and get them all out of there. 

Then John spoke again. "I gonna' wait here for you muthers. We never gonna' 
leave her here alone. She'd escape. Not on you life we gonna' leave her 
here. She get out there, she gonna' tell everybody what our leader done 
fucked her, it be all our black asses gonna' pay, along with his. Dis big 
rumble cain't last forever, it gonna' end sometime and we gonna' pay. I 
gonna' make sure I done sumpin' to pay for," he said, looking slowly around 
at all the boys. 

Their mood changed immediately. Deborah could feel the hesitancy on their 
part of either leaving or going. She realized that they just weren't used to 
making decisions for themselves, of whatever consequence. 

One, then two agreed with John. Claude turned his head toward John, fixed 
and held him with his eyes, said, "You muther, you stay here. Get you piece 
of white cunt. Dat fine. You de one that talk de BLACKshit all the time when 
you forever yearning for de white stuff. You stay here, you fuck dat little 
white bitch, we don't share nuthin' with you. Not a fucking thing. We come 
back here, we gonna' be rich, man, rich. You be a poor muther fucker, living 
with a memory of a white fuck. So, it's up to you, muther. But I tell you 
here and now and for all time, I de leader. I am the number one. 

AND I say there ain't nobody hauling shit in here for you." 

The defeat John suffered was evident in his eyes. He looked from Deborah to 
the television scopes and the people rushing through the streets, loaded 
with merchandise. He knew that Claude was tricking him, that he was turning 
the rest of them against him. Yet, what he said made sense, even to John. He 
searched all their faces for a firm friend, but they all looked away or down 
at the floor, unwilling to throw their lot with his. Then, his eyes stopped 
on Ape. He slowly smiled, watching the slacked-jawed mongoloid with his huge 
pole in his hands, oblivious to all the talk. 

"Claude," John said, calm and casual like, "We can't let her 'scape, can we 
now, Claude? So I say this: let's tie her up real nice like and jist leave 
Ape here to watch her. There ain't nothin' he want out dere in that big free 
market. Ain't nuthin' he could appreciate. 'An he make a good watchman. She 
try escape, he grab her, he work that big pole in her little cunt, she stop 
tryin' to 'scape." 

"Yeah, good idea," 

"Number two thinkin' now," 

"He thinkin' for all us." Came from the boys. 

Claude did not answer immediately. Deborah sensed that he had been put on 
the spot, that he had not anticipated any such suggestion from John. She 
looked up at him from the mattress and felt as sorry for him as she did for 
herself. She shivered as she looked at Ape. He meant death for her. The 
sheer animal lust and desire that spilled from his eyes sickened her. Benjie 
shoved a couple of the boys aside and stood alongside Claude. "We cain't do 
that, John," he said, "You know how Ape is. He git started, he cain't stop. 
He wouldda' kill her while you gone. We leaves him here guardin' her, we de 
killers. We sure are. She won't be 'live when we git back. She be dead, 
man." Deborah looked at him and saw that his face was streaked with tears. 
Again she wanted to clasp him to her, to protect him, to help him overcome 
his sordid background. 

"He's right," Claude spoke softly, putting his arm around the frail 
shoulders of Benjie, "We ain't all animals." 

"Right or wrong, won't make a shit. She a white cunt, jest like you done 
say, Claude, so don't make a shit. She stay here and not 'scape and wait for 
me cause I next, or she die. Dat's all's to it." 

"You cain't. I caint leave her here, not with Ape," Benjie said, "Ain't 
nobody deserve that." His body was racked with sobs. Then, "An' I won't 
leave her here. She a human. Jus' like everybody. Black or white. I not 
leavin' her here with Ape." 

"Don't you worry none, Benjie, we not leaving her here with Ape, not as long 
as I number one. You right, she human. She can't help cause she white no 
more'n we help being black. But, we can't be bothered by Ape. He slow us 
down, get us all killed. You stay here, too. We bring back what you want 
most. O.K.?" Claude asked him softly, slapping him on the back. 

"Ain't nuthin' I want, 'cept ... that which ain't never gonna' be," Benjie 
said, moving away from the protection of Claude's arm and back into the 
crowd. His courage returned from the shelter of darkness and he said, "Maybe 
you git me a gun. Always wanted to know what it like to shoot one." 

"We do that Benjie. I'll get you the best. Come on you muthers, time's a 
wastm'," Claude bellowed, pulling on his trousers. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

"You keep that little of pussy warm for me, cause I be back," John said to 
Deborah, "Then you know what a real man like," he smiled hideously at her. 
She cringed, tried to cover her naked body with her hands, and looked 
straight ahead at the roaring television sets. 

"Ladies and gentlemen of the television audience, this is still 
unbelievable," the suave, now tired, voice of the announcer boomed. "The 
National Guard are getting into position to make their initial entry into 
this holocaust. They are overdue. The heat is tremendous from the fires. 
THERE GOES ANOTHER WALL! Whole buildings are falling, reminds me of Germany 
at the end of World War Two. Indeed, this is a war area. There have been a 
couple of shots fired at us-everyone here seems intent on killing the man 
known as WHITEY. Or Charlie. Take your pick," he laughed, then was drowned 
out by the screaming of a fire engine. The camera panned down to the red 
vehicle, which stopped and the men jumped off and hurriedly dragged out 
hoses and turned the nozzles on the inferno that was closest to them. 

Deborah watched in fascination. She saw one man dressed in black slick 
rubber with a fire hose in his hand, a smile playing about his lips as the 
camera focused on his face, and then he frowned, his grin slipped sideways 
on his face and he slowly brought his hand to his chest and then sunk to the 
ground. 

"Someone is firing at the firemen!" the announcer yelled, "One of them is 
hit. Holy mother of God this is unbelievable!" He shouted, growing so 
excited that his words slipped past his lips without forethought. "Look at 
the right of the scope, ladies and gentlemen, and you will see some of the 
people involved in this. There haven't been people in the street here for 
sometime now, not this street, so it is amazing that all these boys should 
be here," he droned on and Deborah looked to the right of the screen and saw 
the group of boys he was referring to. Claude was at the front of the group, 
shouting orders and running as fast as he could go. The camera picked up the 
whole street scene. 

One of the firemen, kneeling alongside his fallen buddy, took the nozzle of 
the fire hose and turned it full blast onto the boys, Claude first, knocking 
his feet from under him and tossing him against the street. Then he turned 
it slowly to the others, picking them off one by one until they were all in 
the street, rolling around and trying to regain their footing. Deborah 
watched as John made it to his feet, then the rest of the crew of the fire 
truck turned all their water power to him. He went down like a broken toy. 
Deborah wasn't certain, but she thought that she saw Claude escape. If he 
did, she realized, his fate was better than that of the rest of them. John 
was scooped into a basket-like stretcher and the other boys were clobbered 
and beaten by the firemen, then police arrived from somewhere and they began 
to club them and then dragged them off one by one, literally tossing tnem 
into a police van. 

Deborah studied the whole thing closely, nappy and sad at what she was 
watching, hoping, in spite of what he had done to her, somehow that Claude 
escaped. She could not, did not, see him on the screen again. She looked 
away from the horror of the television, emotionally exhausted, and her eyes 
rested momentarily on Ape and her own hopeless situation closed in about her 
and she cried. 

"Claude make it. He cut out. He too smart for all of 'em," Benjie said to 
her, knowing that she was concerned for him, not understanding why but 
realizing that she was. "He be back, you see," Benjie continued, sitting on 
the mattress alongside her. "Dere a pile of women clothes, if n you want?" 
He asked her. 

Deborah tried to smile at him. She had gotten so used to being nude in front 
of so many people that she had almost forgotten that she was so. "Please, 
yes," she jumped at the chance to cover her nudeness. 

Benjie went to the pile of clothes, picked up a couple of things, examined 
them, then tossed them aside. He came back toward her, carrying a sequined 
cocktail dress, laughing, handed it to her and said, "You gonna' sparkle in 
dis. De women de wear some far out threads." 

Deborah took the dress, wanted to go to the pile of clothing and pick out 
something more suitable, then laughed at the thought that any clothing could 
be suitable for the occasion, then said to Benjie, "This is a party dress, 
Benjie. It's difficult to wear without ... underclothes. Are there any 
there?" 

"You ain't gonna' need none and there ain't none there, anyway. You wear 
what I give you or don't," he said, picking up a bottle and uncapping it 

"Benjie, please, let's not drink anymore. Please," Deborah implored, knowing 
that every time he lifted a bottle to his lips her situation worsened. 

"Shut you white face, Bitch. You don't got no appreciation." Benjie spoke 
without malice, then tipped the bottle up and drank deeply from it He 
coughed and sputtered He handed the rest of the bottle to Ape. 

Deborah slipped on the dress, which was a couple of sizes too large for her, 
and then set about organizing her thoughts. She had to get away. If she 
didn't, she knew that she would never survive because Benjie simply couldn't 
control Ape. She thought that perhaps she had made a mistake in discouraging 
them to drink, since Benjie had not really been able to drink that much and 
Ape was finishing the whole bottle. B: she could get a couple of more 
bottles of straight alcohol down his ugly throat, she decided, he would just 
have to pass out and then she might have a chance of getting away. 

"Could I have a small drink, Benjie?" Deborah asked, sitting again on the 
mattress but turned away from Ape so that she didn't have to look at him. 

"Now you talkin'," Benjie replied, handing her a full bottle of Scotch. He 
watched as she uncapped it and moved it to her lips. "Like a lady, huh? My 
whore mother, she drank half bottle all at once. 

Man, she drank a lot." He grew reflective, looking off into the distance, 
his eyes clouding and his face becoming wistful. "Deborah," he said softly, 
"How a Jew different than other folk?" 

She started to answer him, her mind racing over the possible answers to his 
questions, then she saw from the comer of her eye that Ape was moving. She 
shrank away from him, causing Benjie to laugh. "He just gonna' take a leak," 
he told her. 

He did, too. He walked a slight distance away from them, and urinated 
against the wall. The smell of him immediately filled the air, strong and 
abhorrent to Deborah's nostrils. She tried to ignore him but couldn't close 
her mind to the sound. Again she thought of how apt it had been to described 
him as a horse. 

"How they different?" Benjie demanded. 

"What?" Deborah asked, startled at his question. 

"De Jews. How they different from other folk?" 

"I don't know, Benjie. I don't suppose there is a difference really," she 
replied, thoughtfully. She felt like laughing. She wasn't really a Jew, not 
by any standards that any Jewish person would consider. She had never been 
to temple, had never had instructions of any land in any religion. And, it 
was, she suddenly knew, simply a matter of religion. 

"You don't like de idea of me be Jew, do you white bitch?" he asked. 

"Oh, Benjie, that's not true. I don't think there is a difference, not 
anything that anyone could recognize. It's just a religious one, really. Put 
as simply as possible, the Jewish people do not accept Jesus as the son of 
God. I think that's about all really. And one other thing, they oat 
different foods than we do." Deborah spoke earnestly to him, dragging from 
the depth of her mind the answer that her own mother had given her when she 
had asked the same question. 

"Taint so. Dat ol' Jew man own dis store, he eat like everybody. I et here 
with he and Claude. He et same as we does. You he," he accused her. 

"There are all kinds of Jewish people, Benjie, really there are. I mean 
there are those who eat what their religion specifies and those who don't 
All black people don't eat the same foods, do they? Mostly, Jewish people 
don't eat pork. But I do, sometimes, things like ham or bacon " 

Ape interrupted whatever thought Benjie might have been forming in his head. 
Ape, finished releasing a couple of quarts of water, came back to the 
mattress with a full bottle in his hand and sat down alongside Deborah, 
uncapped the bottle and took a long pull from it, some of it dribbling down 
his chin. He looked at the television set and pointed a finger and said 
"Aaah, soldier." 

Deborah and Benjie looked too. The National Guard had arrived, were 
arriving, in jeeps and half-trucks. They jumped smartly down from the trucks 
and formed up in ranks and stood at attention, looking clean and well 
scrubbed and dedicated, Deborah thought. It made her feel good just to see 
them. She tried to determine where they were, if they were close where she 
was imprisoned. Benjie supplied the answer for her. 

"They's jest up de street. De sharp. De ready to kill all us black muthers," 
he said. 

No, that's not right, Benjie. They won't kill anyone. They're here to 
restore order, that's all. You'll see. 

Ape held out his bottle and Benjie took it and drank from it, then offered 
it to Deborah. She declined. Ape made a lunge for her, knocking her into a 
supine position and was on top of her before she could realize what was 
happening. She fought him, scratched at his face, then aimed for his eye 
with her finger. He let out a roar and rolled off her, and continued to roll 
about and scream and moan and his hands covered his eye. Benjie jumped to 
his feet, went to Ape and pulled his hand away. Deborah had managed to drag 
her fingernail across the whole width of his eyeball. It was split and 
bleeding. She could imagine the pain that it caused him, then she thought 
that in all probability she had sealed her own doom. 

Benjie turned from the moaning Ape and struck Deborah across the face. 
"Dirty bitch, you ruin his eye. For that you gonna' pay him." He turned back 
to Ape, put his band on his shoulder and said, "Ape, I let you fuck white 
bitch anytime you want, you hear?" 

He heard. He looked at Deborah with his on? good eye, his hand still 
covering the other, and grinned through his pain and slobbered and began 
moving toward her. She screamed and moved backwards on the mattress. 

Benjie grabbed her from behind, by the hair of the head, and pulled her back 
into his lap, then threw his legs over her arms so that she was resting her 
whole weight, from the hips up, on him. Deborah started crying again, angry 
that her strength was no match for a fourteen year old boy's and her insane 
fear of Ape closing her mind completely off. She saw him through her tears, 
silhouetted against the glow of the television scopes, kneeling in front of 
her and opening his trousers again, a crude, crazy smile on his idiot lips, 
his eye dripping blood from between the lids. He grabbed her white long legs 
and she screamed, kicking out at him ineffectually. 

"Stop, Ape, wait," Benjie ordered, then took a drink from the bottle he had 
somehow managed to get into his free hand, then forced it into Deborah's 
mouth, saying, "You better drink. He big." 

Deborah let the liquid be forced down her throat, glurped it down hurriedly, 
hoping that it would dull the pain that she saw coming to her in the form of 
Ape. His big paw still rested on her trembling flesh, the soft inner thigh, 
the new sequined dress bunched up around her hips, digging into her flesh, 
sparkles reflecting in Ape's one good evil eye. She drank, long and deep. 
Sensing that Benjie had gone further with Ape than he had intended, her mind 
raced for something to say to him to make him call Ape off her. 

"Benjie, please, I'll tell Claude when he comes back," she sobbed, knowing 
that it was useless, damning herself that she couldn't think of something 
more forceful to say to a retarded, or at least untrained, fourteen year old 
boy. 

"Shit," he replied, giving her hair a yank, "He never come back. He done 
throwed in that police car with de rest. I saw it on the tee vee." 

"No. No, he didn't, Benjie. He got away. I watched. They didn't get him. 
Hell be back. Please, please Benjie, hell kill me." Deborah moaned, trying 
to move but unable to do so. 

"Ain't nobody die from sex. Nobody, ever, white cunt. I wanna' ask you one 
thing 'fore, though," his pressure on her hair slackened slightly, "You ever 
hear of a nigger Jew?" 

Deborah jumped at the chance that he opened for her. "Yes, Benjie, yes," she 
cried, "I have. Sammy Davis, Jr. is a Jew and he's a Negro. There are many 
more. I just don't know them all. Do you like to watch him in movies?" 
Deborah wasn't at all sure where his mind was taking the two of them, but 
wherever it was, it saved her from Ape, put off the time that he would using 
her for his own vile ends. 

"He married to a white woman, Sammy is. He don't count. Can I be a Jew ifen 
I wanna'?" His body was tense and he spoke through tightened lips, his 
emotion overpowering him, his words being forced out of his very soul. 

"Yes. Yes you can, Benjie. I'll help you. Really I will if you'll help me, 
now. I'll get my mother to help you, too, and you can easily become a Jew if 
that's what you want. I'll study with you and then we can both learn how 
together. Please, Benjie, please." Deborah pleaded, the idea forming in her 
mind as she spoke. 

"My whore mother, she say my daddy's Jew. I cain't be a real man till I 
finds out about my daddy, 'cause she just a whore," Benjie said softly, 
spilling tears onto Deborah's naked bosom which jutted out of her oversized 
dress. His tears seemed scalding to her. She couldn't have believed that 
anyone in our American society lived as he apparently did, had been so 
abused and neglected as Benjie had. Her compassion for him was overwhelming, 
causing her to cry, her tears raining down for him and because of his 
neglect for her. It was apparent above all else that she wouldn't be in this 
situation, on the verge of being raped by an animal, if Benjie had had what 
was rightfully his during his short life. She promised God that was 
completely unknown to her that if he would spare her, she would look after 
Benjie, would provide him with the things necessary to life. 

Benjie took another long pull off the bottle and then offered it to her. She 
glanced at Ape, still in a kneeling position between her open white thighs, 
his long, hardening black thick cock in his hand. She accepted the bottle, 
drank long and deep, and suddenly it fell away from her mouth and spilled 
onto the mattress. Benjie's hold on her relaxed at the same time. His hand 
rested on top of her head and his legs shuddered slightly, then went limp. 
It took her a couple of seconds to realize that he had passed out. Terror 
hit her a shock blow in the stomach. She cried out, made to run, but Ape 
knew that he was no longer to be stopped by Benjie; he pinned her onto the 
mattress, underneath himself, and grinned lewdly into her face. 

Ape sought her mouth with his blood streaked lips, forced it onto hers. 
Deborah could taste the blood, then his huge tongue being forced into her 
mouth, over her soft tongue and into her throat, filling her with disgust 
and revulsion, the physical part of him hardly mattering to her at all now; 
she registered the thought that his tongue was much larger than Claude's. He 
pushed into her throat, then out and back in, and he began moving his huge, 
hard prick against her stomach. 

Deborah kept her eyes firmly closed, her head swam from all the liquor she 
had consumed, which after all, hadn't been enough, and bore the weight of 
him, the hugeness of his tongue in her mouth, unable to think, terror of him 
having made her thoughts flee swiftly from her. She could feel the weight of 
his prick lying all the way from her soft pubic mound up to where her rib 
cage joined just under her breasts. It terrified her more than anything else 
about him. She knew that she would never be able to have that huge thing 
inside her and survive. It was impossible. Ape tore his mouth away from her, 
groaned, "Aaaah," and fastened his mouth onto her firm white breast. Deborah 
looked at him, feasting on her flesh, his pink lips and white teeth sucking 
and biting at her and his eye still dripping blood, and felt a certain 
amount of disinterest in what was happening to her. His huge tongue pulled 
and sucked at her soft nipple, then it began to burn her, to harden and send 
a sensation deep into her. She swore at herself, fought the feeling, but it 
was no use. It hardened under his tongue and teeth and gross lips and he bit 
and sucked and pulled at it and then moved his mouth to the other jutting 
mound and latched onto half of it in one swift swoop, pulling it into him, 
biting and sucking and working his tongue over it, then to the nipple, 
causing the same sensation to assault her, and the nipple sprang into rigid 
hardness and he took his mouth away and looked at her and bared his teeth 
and dropped his head back onto her soft, white flesh and like a man gone 
crazy sucked and bit and licked at first one, then the other, and suddenly, 
the very helplessness of her position sending a masochistic streak of 
lightning through her, Deborah wanted to push them into his crazy hot mouth 
and wanted him to bite and tear at her and she squirmed and moved under him. 

Ape lifted his head, moved the shoulder straps of her dress over her arms, 
and pulled it down over her hips, releasing her arms, freeing them from 
their cramped position behind her. She grabbed for the bottle that Benjie 
had dropped, her movements slow and hampered by all the liquor she had 
consumed, and brought it back in a slow arch, aiming for his head. It 
connected, plopping softly against his head, on the same side as the injured 
eye, causing the blood to splatter off and onto her, but he flicked it away 
from her hand as though he had felt nothing-much in the same manner a normal 
person would sweep away a fly. He made a sound that passed for a laugh, then 
tore off his shirt, after placing his knee in her chest and putting his 
weight onto it, forcing the breath out of her, then tore at his trousers, 
his long, black, brick hard pole standing straight out from his body, over 
her. 

He removed his clothes with little effort, then flung his body back down 
onto Deborah's soft white one. He forced his tongue into her mouth again, 
drove it in and out of her, down deep into her throat, then sucked her lips 
with his, causing her to again taste the sweetness of blood. He abruptly 
stopped, moved his woolly head down and closed his mouth over her breasts, 
almost gently, using his tongue to suck at her, playing with the still 
hardened nipples, using his teeth gently and not biting into the flesh as 
she had feared. His large cock throbbed against her soft stomach, sending 
its pulses thundering into her body, and her breasts willingly gave 
themselves over to his hot mouth. Deborah disgusted herself by her response 
to him, but try as she may she could not control her body. She hated it. 

He moved his black, sweat-glistening head below her breasts and kissed her 
soft flesh with his huge thick lips, sending heat through her, and took 
small bites of her flesh, pulling it up with his teeth, then running his 
tongue over the same spot, moving lower and lower with each maddening loss 
and bite upon her until he had heated up the total smooth, soft roundness of 
her white stomach. He grinned up at her again, bringing her back to the 
reality of what was happening to her, and she made a desperate effort to 
move from under him. He laughed, closed his mouth over her breasts again, 
and bit down hard, causing her to cry out. He relented, kissed and sucked 
and pulled at the burning nipple, then repeated his performance on her 
stomach, causing the muscles to vibrate softly against his thick lips. He 
placed his huge hands on the silky flesh of her thighs and moved her legs 
apart, all the while kissing the soft vee of her pubic hair, rubbing his 
chin into her throbbing mound, then he opened her cleft, tender and sore as 
it was, spreading the smooth pink lips of hair apart alowly and then he 
kissed her open cunt, fully, with his whole mouth. 

Deborah tried to pull away from him, knowing that the kissing of her crotch 
would only make him wilder to be inside her, but the slight pressure of his 
thumbs on the lips of her vagina, the opening out of the soft, sensitive 
flanges excited her. She could feel the hot air, cooler than his hot 
searching mouth, circulate about her open, pulsating cunt. Then she had 
received his full mouth, all of it hot and burning to her, flat against the 
lips of her cunt and it felt good and she had no longer thought of moving 
away. He sucked hungrily at her, causing his lips to turn outward and she 
could feel her clitoris touching the hardness of his soft, fleshy inner 
mouth and she wanted his tongue inside her. He obliged her, much as though 
he were reading her thoughts. He put the tip of his huge tongue against the 
soft, tender lips of her cunt and traced the outline of them, then moved it 
gently inside her small, sweet opening, and the walls of her vagina accepted 
it, sucked gently at it, helping it to intrude deeper into her. 

Ape plunged into the sweet opening as far as he possibly could, flicking his 
wet probing tongue into the soft opening of her, then withdrew it and 
plunged it back in, all the way, time and again until, in spite of herself, 
she was moving under him, squirming the whiteness of her open loins up at 
his face, moving her tight, screaming little pussy up on his hot tongue, and 
he sucked and licked at her clitoris and it hardened and speared into his 
tongue and he touched it gently with teeth and spasms of hot feeling raced 
into the very depth of her now wildly contracting belly. 

Deborah enjoyed beyond description his hot searching, plunging tongue. She 
moved herself against it, then had felt him nibble at her clitoris and she 
had lost all desire to hold back, to escape him. Her whole body burned, she 
wanted to grasp his bobbing head and shove and pull it down into her, but 
she stopped just short of that. She could not help but move her center of 
desire up to meet his plunging tongue, but she did manage to restrain 
herself from pulling him into her. Ape moved his hands from her cuntal lips, 
felt her breasts, took the nipples, still hardened between his fingers, and 
sucked and probed the hungry crack between her legs. He felt her responding 
to him, her whole soft body rising to meet his mouth and now her breasts, 
soft and firm and white under his fingers, the nipples rigid in them. He 
lifted her buttocks, massaged and dug his fingers into their slightly 
muscled flesh, and opened her legs wide and lifted her at the hips and 
touched the tight little sphincter of her throbbing rectum with his wet hot, 
tongue and then moved his fingers to the sides of it, the rubbery tissue 
closed tightly against him. He forced it open, forced the flesh, rose 
colored and brown, to move outward and then his tongue worked into it and 
the muscles opened and relaxed and accepted his tongue and ne shoved it deep 
into her quivering anal hole and then it tightened trustfully about his 
tongue and he slid it in and out and she moved against his face and he took 
his tongue away and worked it up her squirming loins into her cunt again and 
inhaled deeply of the musty sweetness and worked his index finger into her 
tight little ass hole and moved it in and out in the same motions and time 
of his tongue in her cunt. 

Deboran felt the sensations of fire and raw nerves deep inside her, knew 
that her breasts were rigid and firm and that the walls of her cunt were 
working in perfect harmony with his probing tongue and in spite of her fear 
and hatred of the half-wit Negro crouched down between her widespread legs, 
she gave her mind over to her body, which had betrayed her before and was 
betraying once again. She shoved up at the black bloody face and sought his 
tongue with her cunt and ground down on his huge finger inside her and then 
it was there, the humiliating, yet uncontrollable feeling that she had had 
with Claude. It had to be satisfied if she were to keep breathing, so she 
ground and worked and pushed the soft whiteness of her burning loins toward 
him. All the tattered nerves of her tortured, straining body suddenly came 
completely alive and hungered, deep within her, for fulfilment and she 
squirmed and ground down on the finger and pushed her cunt into his face and 
sucked his tongue deep into her and it was there, it erupted, giving her a 
fleshquake of unbelievable magnitude, and she sucked him deep into her and 
then she came, violently, opening and flowing outward and pitching and 
moaning and then it was over and Ape sucked the essence of her new warm 
wetness salaciously from the walls of her cunt and she felt it all, the 
pleasure of it unbelievable to her. She lay still, his finger beginning to 
pain her now, stuck deep up into her tight little rectum, and gave her body 
juices to him and he accepted them with his hot mouth, sucking softly and 
gently and using his tongue to empty her of all her desire. 

Having her need overpower her with such intensity had caused Debroah to 
forget about the inevitable. She suddenly remembered it. Ape was on his 
knees, between her legs, forcing them up and back, the muscles in her thighs 
straining against his black powerful hands, and he put the head of his 
mammoth brick-hard black prick against the lips of her vaginal slit and she 
looked at it, the big pulsating head throbbing against her, surrounded by 
her sparse aureole of soft, young pubic hairs, and shuddered at the reality 
of it all, at what was to be her next punishment. "Ooooh, little white baby, 
gonna fuck you pussy now," he slobbered, reaching for her mouth with his. 

Deborah turned her head swiftly to the side, avoiding his ugly face and 
demented expression, and he shoved his hips, causing his huge pulsating head 
to burn against her soft, pink vaginal lips. He grunted and pushed harder 
and it entered slightly, causing excruciating pain to her. She tried to move 
away from him but he grabbed the soft fleshy mounds of her buttocks and held 
them tightly in place. He pushed again with the full weight of him and the 
huge bulb-like purple head slipped with a pop betwen the tight, cringing 
lips of her cunt Deborah felt as though someone were trying to force a 
telephone pole up between her legs and the pain was more than she knew she 
would be able to bear. 

Her soft white hands moved desperately to his strong black shoulders and she 
pushed away with all her strength but he only laughed his insane laugh at 
her and she jerked her legs up and back, thinking to get her knees into his 
stomach and push him backwards, but he curled his arms behind her upraised 
knees and pressed them cruelly backwards until she was bent nearly double 
and the whole of her tortured loins were presented helplessly up to his 
rampaging cock. 

"Gotcha now little white bitch," he grinned down at her terrified eyes and 
at the same moment flicked his hips cruelly forward sliding half the 
monstrous length mercilessly into the tight, stretched confines of her 
screaming pussy. 

"Oooooh god, no! Please no!" she screamed helplessly beneath him, feeling as 
though the whole of her aching loins were being split wide asunder. And then 
... through the pain and humiliation of her hopelessness a rising crescendo 
of noise drifted to her tortured mind ... and then, then the welcome folds 
of unconsciousness descended over her aching body.... 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

The roar and sudden noise that Deborah heard was not from the many 
television sets. It was' the clomp of boots on the stairs, the sudden 
appearance of two National Guardsmen. They stopped at the foot of the stairs 
and tried to accept with their minds what their eyes relayed to them. They 
saw the television sets, their glow weirdly filling the room, the huge and 
naked negro, his huge pole halfway sunk between the loins of the white girl 
bent helplessly under him, mis bleeding eye and his white teeth, his lips 
pulled back from them. They advanced further into the room slowly, neither 
of them speaking, neither of them sure of what was going on. They approached 
the mattress upon which the ugly ritual was being performed and saw the 
sequins of the wrinkled dress bunched up around her hips twinkling in the 
reflected light from the big tubes, the array of sets relaying over and over 
again the same thing, their buddies walking down the street, through the 
lashing fire. They looked at Deborah, then turned away slightly, 
momentarily, and saw Benjie. Their glances covered the whole eerie scene, 
roaming around the small basement, taking in the cases of liquor and the 
empty bottles littering the floor. Both of them seemed to come to their 
senses at the same time. They both barked at Ape, "Git off that girl and git 
over against the wall!" 

He continued to look at them in his insane way, baring his teeth more, like 
a wild dog, and making his one peculiar sound, "Aaah," in a continuous high 
pitched scream, the blood flowing freely from his eye again, down his cheek 
and into his mouth and then out again and dripping off his chin. His large 
black hands looked more obscene, laying on the soft whiteness of the girl's 
open thighs, than did his long, hard prick that still sought entrance to her 
cunt, the head of it inside, the pink flanges of her moist, glistening 
vaginal lips clenched tight around its blackness. 

"Git over against the wall!" The larger of the two soldiers shouted again, 
pointing his rifle at Ape. Ape did not move, but stayed as he was. One of 
the soldiers, the smaller one, stepped slowly, placing each foot down 
carefully and moving behind the lust-crazed black, saying, "You shoot that 
bastard's brains out if he makes a move," to the other, in a sort of 
whisper. He placed himself behind Ape, who had not moved at all, took his 
rifle by the stock and brought it around full force and the butt of it 
thudded against Ape's head. He toppled slowly, as though he were doing it in 
slow motion, and the same soldier had time to land another blow on him 
before his head hit the mattress. The last blow moved his head around, 
twisted it on his neck, so that his eyes rolled up and the whites of the 
good one filled with blood and matched the other. It was apparent to both of 
them that he was dead "Jesus, Dave, you really hit that muther," the taller 
one said, his rifle still pointed out from his hip. 

"He's a fucking animal like all these black muthers, Joe," Dave replied, 
almost in a whining voice. "He wasn't about to do what we tell him. You 
agree it was necessary?" 

"Yeah, I agree," Joe told him, then, "Look at big prick. It's still in her," 
he moved closer to the dead Ape and hit his prick a blow with the rifle. It 
slipped out of Deborah's cunt, still stiff and hard and stood out from Ape's 
body, then slowly wilted and lay deflated on the mattress. 

"Jesus, look at that body!" Dave whistled, his eyes bulging out of his head 
as he looked down at the unconscious Deborah. "She's been down here screwing 
all these niggers, no wonder they're up there rioting. Bet she done took 
that little drunk boy on, too," he said, moving to the now snoring Benjie 
and turning him over with his foot. 

"What a fucking heaven," Joe said, swinging his arm in a wide circle, "All 
these fucking television sets going at once, half of them color sets. Booze 
enough for the whole fucking army and one naked broad just waiting to get 
fucked. We really hit the jackpot, Dave. Yeah!" 

"We cain't stay here, Joe. We was only detached to investigate. We gotta' 
rejoin the company." Dave whined again, wiping the sweat from his face. 

"You dumb shit, look at just one of them fucking tee vees. The whole muther 
company done gone on down the street. Shit, we won't be missed for hours 
yet. In the meantime, I need a drink." 

He moved to an unopened case of liquor, tore off the top of the box and 
lifted a bottle of bourbon out, uncapped it and took a long drink. 

"You mean we gonna' stay here and fuck her?" Dave asked, wiping his mouth 
with the back of his hand. 

"We suddenly become twins or something, you dumb shit? I'm gonna' stay here 
and fuck her. You can watch," Joe replied, taking another long pull from the 
bottle. 

"God, she's beautiful, even if she is a nigger loving cunt," Dave continued, 
his eyes still glued to her naked white body, at her tits jutting upwards, 
her legs slightly apart and her vaginal slit open and pink and moisture 
glistening around the lips of it "Maybe she's hurt or something?" he 
questioned, dropping on the mattress alongside her. 

Joe bounded to him, put a heavy booted foot on his shoulder and let it rest 
there, saying, "She's dead drunk, that's all. That nigger was too big for 
her, never even got into her. And, I'm the one that gonna' fuck her, not 
you, so don't do any fuckin' around. You can look but don't touch." He 
continued to drink, then took the bottle and poured some of the liquor from 
it onto Deborah's face. 

Her eyes fluttered open, she looked up and shrunk back from Dave, sucked in 
her breath and wiped the liquor from her face. She looked again, then her 
lips parted in a smile and she reached out for him, her soft white arm going 
around his neck and started to cry. He held her, rubbing his hands across 
her naked back, enjoying the soft firm fleshy feel. 

"KNOCK IT OFF!" Joe bellowed, kicking Dave in the ribs. "I told you I was 
gonna' fuck her and you're just gonna' get all steamed up over nothing." 

Joe's blow to Dave had knocked Deborah from his arms and she was again flat 
on her back on the mattress. She had heard what he said but it did not mean 
anything to her. She couldn't think beyond the joy of finding them there. 
Then she remembered her nakedness and she covered her breasts with her hands 
and put the other over her crotch. Tears of happiness filled her eyes and 
spilled over the edges of her eyelids, then ran down her cheeks. She wiped 
them away with the back of her hand and then moved her head slightly and saw 
Ape, his head split open, a pool of blood growing rapidly wider around his 
dark, shining head, and his long prick laying straight out from his body, 
and she shrunk back in horror at the sight. 

"Yeah, we had to kill your nigger daddy, honey. He wouldn't do what we told 
him. He couldn't get that big thing all the way inside you anyway. You got a 
nice tight little crack," Joe continued, squatting down and putting his hand 
inside her thigh, his fingers searching for her unprotected vaginal lips. 

Deborah drew back from the touch of him, startled at his boldness and at the 
lewd tone of his voice. Her nakedness seemed much more shameful to her in 
front of the two whites than it had with all the negro boys. Her mind slowly 
fathomed what she was hearing and she refused to believe it. It just didn't 
seem possible to her that she could have survived what she had and then be 
subjected to the same thing all over again by her supposed saviors. She 
started to get up to find something to cover her nakedness with, but she was 
too slow. Joe forced her back down with his strong hands, said, "Not so 
fast, honey. I know you prefer black cock, but I'm gonna' teach you the joy 
of having a white one. Yeah," he tore her legs rudely apart and looked down 
lustfully between her open thighs. 

"No, please, I was dragged her by a whole gang of them. Please get me out of 
nere." She begged, now covering her eyes with her hands. 

"Ah, Honey, you just had too much to drink. I don't blame you, having the 
selection that you have here, but you don't wanna' leave yet," he said, 
leaning over her and taking a rose colored nipple in his mouth. 

Deborah reached out and dug her fingernails into his face, deep, all the 
strength she could muster put into digging at his ugly white face. 

Joe drew back abruptly, biting hard at her soft breasts until the pain hit 
him deep down, and slapped her hard across the face, lea ving a record of 
his slap in the way of a red blot h on her pale white skin. He moved himself 
firmly onto her, pinning her arms behind her so that she was laying on them, 
and knew that the brass buttons, the ones he had polished so studiously for 
three hours, were digging into her soft nakedness. He pulled himself up the 
length of her body and sought her mouth with his, and was rewarded with 
pain. Deborah had used the only thing she had left to defend herself with, 
her teeth. She had torn his hp viciously. 

He was furious. "You fucking nigger loving pig!" he screamed at her, through 
his torn hp, slapping her face from one side to the other, as she lay 
helplessly under him. 

"Stop it!" Dave yelled, making a lunge for him and toppling him off the 
helpless girl. They rolled away from Deborah, fighting and swearing, and she 
tried to get away from the madness of the two of them. She rolled over to 
her stomach, got to her hands and knees and crawled in the direction of the 
drunk and sleeping Benjie, her naked buttocks bathed in the multi-color of 
the many television lights. She didn't get far. 

Joe had managed to knock Dave off him and he jumped on top of her, 
flattening her, stomach first, into the mattress, "Come rain or sleet or 
snow or war, a man gotta' have his fucking, Honey," he breathed heavily, 
moving her arms and crossing them under her stomach. "You're a fighter, you 
are, and I like that, even if it does piss me off." He looked at Dave who 
was laying flat on his back, his rifle alongside him, said, "Get the fuck 
over here and help me and if you try anything like that again I'll kick your 
fucking brains in." 

Dave slowly got to his feet, then started to pick up his rifle, hesitated 
and looked at Joe, then his face split into a large silly grin, and he came 
back to the mattress. He stood above them, looking down, said, "I'll help, 
but you gotta' help me too. I'm horny'n all hell too." 

"Get your silly ass down here and hold her head then," Joe commanded. "You 
get a good hold on her, I want to take off a few of these clothes. Jesus, 
she's got a nice body," he dug his hands into the soft white mounds of her 
buttocks hard, and she squirmed under him. "See, she can hardly wait for 
this white cock to get into her." 

Dave sat on the mattress, drew Deborah's head into his lap, then put his 
heavy booted feet and legs across her back. Joe stood up and unbuttoned his 
shirt, removed his heavy ammunition belt, then his trousers, his shoes and 
his shorts and stood above the two of them, naked, his well-muscled and slim 
body glistening with sweat. "Jesus, we all need a drink," he said, then 
padded softly to the stack of liquor boxes and fished out two full bottles 
of bourbon. He tore the cap off one and handed it to Dave, then the other 
and took a long pull of it, wiped his mouth and dropped to his knees between 
Deborah's long white legs and forced them apart 

"Turn her head around so she can see what a white man looks like," he 
ordered Dave, standing straight on his knees. 

Deborah's head was twisted violently around and her eyes took in the whole 
of him. His flesh looked white and soft and naked and obscene to her. She 
moved her eyes down to his prick, which hung limply between his legs, and 
moaned. He was, to her eyes, almost as big as Ape, the only real difference 
being that he was white. The head of his cock, large and purple and blood 
filled, looked huge to her. She moved her eyes to meet his and the hate that 
poured out of them startled him. 

He picked up his large white prick and waved it at her, saying, "You like 
the look of that, Honey? You gonna' like the feel, but you ought to remember 
how it looks because you might see the head of it," he rubbed his thumb over 
the purple head, "comin' right up out of your sweet little mouth. Yeah," he 
took another long drink. "Dave you better get a little more liquor down her 
throat, she's gonna' need it." He laughed a dirty laugh. 

Dave pulled her head back around and took her hair in his hand and bent her 
head back, away from him, and forced the bottle into her mouth. The liquor 
flowed down her throat and she coughed and gagged and it still poured in and 
bumed her throat and stomach and then felt good to her. 

Deborah never knew that she was capable of hating as she hated these two 
now. She had accepted her earlier fate at the hands of a group of un 
educated (except for Claude) ruffians because she had no other choice and 
she couldn't in her heart blame them for taking advantage of all the things 
that had so long been denied them. But these two, being paid to defend her, 
to fight and give their fives if necessary to save hers and all the other 
people's who had worked for their existence, she hated. They had no reason 
to act like animals. She swore to herself that she would repay them, fully, 
for their evil deeds upon her body. She tried to convey that thought to Joe. 

"Pull your knees up, Bitch, we're gonna' do this dog style," he laughed, his 
hands around her small waist. He lifted her up, pushed her own legs forward 
with his muscled ones, and ran his hand over her soft' curved mounds. "Man, 
what skin, and sweet, and soft and tight!" He leaned over her and took her 
firm breasts in his hands and squeezed them and moved his half-hardened 
prick across the smooth, unblemished skin of her buttocks. He worked at her 
nipples with his fingers, the soft rose pink flesh pliant in the coarseness 
of his hands, and felt them hardening, causing his own prick to lengthen and 
harden more and he buried his face in her soft black hair and breathed 
deeply of it, then kissed the warm smoothness of her neck, then moved his 
mouth down her back, his tongue licking and his teeth digging into the 
whiteness of her smooth skin, and to her buttocks. He took a mouth ful of 
them, and then moved his face into the soft, resilient crevice and his 
tongue darted out and tentatively touched her tight, puckered anus. She 
groaned aloud from his obscene probe and he let go of her breasts and moved 
his hands back to her buttocks and moved them gently apart and forced his 
tongue through the tight rubbery opening and worked it hotly into her 
rectum. 

Deborah moaned, her body revolting against the ravishing by her hoped for 
saviors, and tried to move away from his probing and biting and she waved 
her sensuously curved ass from side to side to escape his hot thrusting 
tongue, then felt it burn against her and suddenly she hated herself for 
wanting it there, for liking the feel of it probing into her tight secret 
hole. She turned her head from side to side and was startled to find that 
Dave too was hardening against her cheeks. 

He pushed her head harder into his crotch and moved his hips upwards, 
forcing her face against the coarse material of his uniform. He lifted her 
head by clutching her hair and unzipped his trousers. He got his prick out 
of his shorts and tried to force it into her mouth, his fingers tearing 
cruelly at her tightly resisting lips. Joe, kneeling behind her, had 
hardened to amazing rigidity. His long prick now stood hard and firm from 
his body; he took the blood filled head and parting the soft, resilient 
curls of her pubic hair forced the head of it gently up into her. 

Deborah groaned aloud at the new and unexpected invasion and pressed her 
face tight into the crotch in front of her to still the scream she knew was 
coming. 

"KEEP HER THE FUCK QUIET!" Joe demanded of Dave, worming into her a couple 
of more inches. He stopped there and ran his hands over her buttocks and 
then up her small fear-quivering body and around her ribs and took her firm 
breasts in his hands and felt the still hardened nipples with his fingers 
and then let his hands cup the whole of her large, firm breasts again and 
eased a little more of his huge prick into her. 

Dave forced her mouth open, then made her accept the purple throbbing head 
of his cock into the soft, warm confines of her resisting mouth. He took her 
head and forced it down upon him, his prick not as hard as it would be 
shortly but the tight wetness of her mouth and gently moving tongue feeling 
good to him. He spread his legs wide apart and forced her head on down until 
he felt his prick at the back of her throat and he moved her head by the 
hair and worked her face more fully onto him and knew that it was there, 
down deep into her gullet and he pulled her head up and then moved it back 
down upon him and his prick jumped into full hardness. He felt weak from the 
ecstasy of her soft mouth on his throbbing prick. He looked at Joe, said, 
"She won't be making any more sounds." He laughed. 

Joe's hard prick was only half-way into her warm, tight cunt. He looked at 
her voluptuously curved buttocks and her narrow waist from which they flowed 
out easingly, at the smoothness and shape of her shoulders, and eased in a 
little further, forcing her hips apart with his hands. He took a deep breath 
and rammed into her fully, forcing her forward with the weight of his own 
body, and loved beyond reason the wet hotness of her and the throbbing of 
his hard prick inside. He eased out slowly and felt her fragile body tremble 
under his hands and that, too, sent ripples of pleasure through him. He 
looked down at his rock-hard prick, the head secreted just inside her soft, 
clasping cunt lips, and marveled at the soft flanges of her laying softly 
against his throbbing cock. 

Deborah's mouth was filled to overflowing with the bigness and the sudden 
hardness of Dave's prick, the soft spongy head of it deep in her throat, and 
she thought that she would faint from pain with the plunging into her of 
Joe's huge cock, going deep into her insides, harshly and without warning to 
her. Her body glowed hotly from the scalding liquor that had been forced 
down her throat and she could feel the heat working itself inside out, 
exploding on the surface of her flesh. 

Her firm breasts were hot and receiving the attention of Joe's hands with 
eagerness and she loathed herself for that, for being so easily brought to 
readiness by way of her breasts. She felt the hard prick easing out of her 
warm cunt and she moved her hips, hoping to escape that hot, fleshy rod, but 
only caused him to release her breasts and grab onto her hips and steady 
them and plunge back into her, hurting her terribly, wedging her apart 
inside, deep inside. Her mouth was forced down on the bigness of Dave. 

They rocked her body between them, Joe plunging deep into her and forcing 
her forward so that Dave was forced deep into her throat until she thought 
that surely the heads of their hot, hard pricks would meet inside her, would 
destroy her and each other at the same time. Much against her will she began 
to , if not enjoy the obscene pounding of her body, the rocking of it 
between the two of them,-a rising need that she cursed herself for having. 
She hoped that she would not move against him, would not in any way indicate 
to him that she accepted or wanted what he was forcing her to do. 

Joe loved the feel of resting deep inside her, loved looking at her moist 
pink flanges just folding out of her tight little pussy, and holding tightly 
to his hard prick. He knew that she had accepted the inevitable and that 
however much she might try to resist, that she was beginning to respond. Her 
flesh, so soft and firm and living in his hands, trembled with every inward 
plunge of him, while he had his rock-hard cock thrust deep into her, 
differently, so that he knew that she was beginning to appreciate him. He 
withdrew slowly, knowing the slow movement of him against the walls of her 
vagina would increase her desire, and he was careful to withdraw, then just 
as cautious about feeding it back to her, slowly and with deliberate 
consideration, until he was deep within her again, then he ground down and 
rocked gently, his belly slapping softly against the well-rounded moons of 
her ass, and slipped in and out of the wet, slippery opening of her and she 
began to move under htm and he could tell by the look on Dave's face that 
her sucking of his prick had changed rhythm. 

Joe pressed the soft moons of her buttocks together and pushed them gently 
away from him as he drew out of her, then squeezed them back once he was 
firmly inside and felt her muscles tighten to pull him forward, to bury his 
hot hardness deep into her. He worked his thumb into her open crevice, 
pressing the sides of the rubbery lips of her anus open, and then eased one 
finger through, and pushed it up to the joint of his hand when he plunged 
into her again. She moved her ass wildly to rid herself of his thumb that 
dug cruelly into the sides of her, waved it back and forth to rid herself of 
the unwanted torture. But strangely, in spite of her resistance, it excited 
her as much as the hot hardness inside her. She sucked and licked and 
accepted the hot throbbing cock in her mouth and throat, hoping that he 
would finish with her soon and that he would withdraw, then not wanting him 
to, not wanting the plunging and violating of her mouth and throat to ever 
end. A white hot need was building deep within her and she couldn't deny it, 
couldn't make her nerves reverse their course and not want what they so 
eagerly sought. She was buffeted and pounded at the mouth and in her hot 
little cunt and at her tight, soft asshole and suddenly she couldn't get 
enough of any of it. 

Joe plunged and ground and shoved and tore into the delicious opening of 
her, enjoying the sight of his wet, glistening prick pulling out of her pink 
cuntal lips, the strange disappearing of it back into the depth of her. He 
felt the throbbing of his hard cock against the smooth, wet walls, the tight 
hot folds of her sucking of him, and he thought he would drown in his 
ecstasy of pleasure. He gripped at her slim waist, then at her buttocks and 
slammed her back onto his hard pole and then lifted her away and rode hard 
and deep on her back and suddenly it was all building up to release and he 
changed his speed, like shifting gear of an automobile, and all else was 
torn from his mind ex cept the satisfaction of fulfilling that desire. He 
slammed his rod far into her, stabbing and sticking and impaling the very 
core of her on his hot, plunging pole. Then it was there, it built low in 
his groin and collected its own hot energy, then shot out like wildfire, 
tearing his whole being out with it and moved through him, the length of hot 
stiff rod and burst out the end and spewed into her desperately clasping 
little cunt. He ground down and moved his stomach wildly against the firm 
bucking mounds of her quivering buttocks and emptied into her. And, he still 
came and couldn't get it all out of him fast enough and all his energy was 
spent as his semen hurled through him and deep into her lasciviously 
contracting belly. He jabbed, speared in, in short choppy movements until he 
was spent, until the whole of him had been shot into her, and then she 
started to move against him, without his pulling and moving her hips, and he 
let her have him, all of him, the still rock hardness of him and she ground 
against nim and moved off him slightly, then crashed back, spearing herself 
on his hard prick and he put his hands on her shoulders and knew that Dave 
was emptying his scalding semen into her throat and that she was taking it 
down, gratefully, feeling the muscles in her shoulders contract and work 
with her neck muscles. Suddenly he needed to come again, to shoot hotly into 
her, and began to work with her, grabbing her ass again in his hands and 
squeezing her beautiful salaciously pumping buttocks together and feeling 
the muscles tighten up on him on the inside of her and the head of his prick 
which was throbbing again slipping inside and over the muscled tissue that 
was at the very core of her and he ground on and he felt her give and come 
and burst inside and her slow melting outward brought him to the peak of 
readiness again and his balls tightened and the same feeling that he had 
experienced only a short time before built fantastically fast and then his 
hot semen spewed forth again and raced the length of his prick and burst out 
the end, tearing at the small opening there to make its way out and into 
her. He groaned low, loud and long and then pitched forward, against the 
soft whiteness of her, and lay atop her back, his prick still buried deep 
within the folds of her still throbbing cunt, and their bodies together, 
sweaty and spent and wonderfully exhausted. 

Dave had been dumbfounded: he had loved the warmth of her soft throat and 
the hot feeling of her tongue working on his hard rod, but he was conscious 
of the fact he had had to force her to shove his prick inside her moist 
mouth and down into her throat. Then, from outside his thinking, outside his 
awareness, he realized that Joe, his experienced buddy, Joe, was causing 
her, making her, suck wildly at his, Dave's hot prick. He had moved his 
hands away from her head, his lifting and pushing down upon it no longer 
necessary at a certain point, and braced himself on his hands, leaning the 
weight of his torso on them, his cock deep in her throat, her red lips 
moving down and touching the very bottom of his hard prick, sucking and 
pulling what had seemed to him his very life's essence from him, and felt, 
deep in his groin, a building, a readiness to give up his hot semen, to spew 
down her throat and toward the center of her being. He had often dreamed of 
being in just such a situation, but he had realized even when he was 
dreaming, even as he made fantasy in his mind that they were that, just 
dreams, and never had he hoped, consciously to ever have the soft lips of a 
girl on his rod He braced himself, all of his muscles taut and ready and her 
mouth became hotter and more demanding of him and then he handed himself 
over to his own roaring need of relief that clutched and clawed at his 
insides and released his semen, white as he knew it was from watching it 
spew forth from the head of his prick when his hands had caused it to flow 
forth, felt it burst from him down into her throat. He turned his attention 
to Joe, his own energy sucked out of him, his now feeling of disgust with 
Deborah heavy on his thinking, his mind veering away from the fact that he 
had forced her into doing what she had just so well performed and looked at 
his buddy who was plunging and plowing and shoving his huge hard cock into 
her. He realized that Deborah was pushing against Joe as hard as she could. 
Before his watchful and alert look, their movements became more frenzied and 
hurried and he thought he saw both of them shudder at the same time, Deborah 
ramming her beautiful ass down hard onto Joe's stiff prick, which 
disappeared and reappeared in lightning flashes, glistening and throbbing, 
the veins standing up hard on it, and suddenly Joe had thrown his head back 
and groaned and moaned and a huge sound erupted from his throat, and then he 
collapsed on top of the equally spent girl. He still stared at them, at the 
both of them, in disbelief. His first experience with sex was different than 
anything he could ever have imagined. 

Deborah lay under him, her body sweaty and hot, that ugly need for untamed 
lust had reared itself in her tired body once again satisfied, her insides 
relaxed. Again she felt revulsion of self. The soldier s hard prick was 
still rammed hotly in her tight slit behind her, she could feel the warmness 
of her own flow mixed with his, working against the wall of her vagina, 
moving outside her body. She lay in peace with the total weight of him on 
top of her. Her mind was not working for a long period of time-until her 
self-revulsion set in. She thought of all the books she had read about sex 
and love scenes and the supreme moment when everything came together and 
desired fulfillment was there, but it had always been beyond her 
imagination. She had never thought that she would experience any such thing, 
because it had been to her mind only a writer's fancy that had portrayed the 
human body of being capable of so much feeeling. But now, she knew it was 
not so, that it was not the far out fantasy of any writer, but on the 
contrary that no matter how good a writer might be at his art or skill, he 
would never be able to convey, to put onto paper the words necessary to 
describe the mounting of that desire and then the final fulfillment that she 
had been through. She supposed that that was just the way things were, that 
she could no more help being as she was than she could help being a girl. 
She let her mind wander back, drift lazily over her own situation and 
wondered again, her mind groping for an answer, of what was to become of 
her. No one would ever believe her, of that she was certain. She could hear 
herself explaining how she had stumbled into the riot, at its very 
inception, that she had been captured by a gang of black toughs, that she 
had been on the very precipice of being ruined for life by having the huge 
horse cock of Ape shoved into the very core of her, splitting and ripping 
and tearing her apart, never to be well and whole again. The whole of 
Deborah's experi ence since ranning so blindly away from her aunt's house 
became more nightmarish as she thought about it. Just as any other human, 
her thoughts centered upon herself. She couldn't think beyond her impossible 
situation. She moved her tired body "Please get off me." 

Joe slipped his now deflated prick out of her, the head plopping wetly out 
of the tight lips of her little pussy with a sound that was unmistakable. 
She turned over on her side then, rolled onto her back and looked up at his 
face, seeking his eyes with hers. She thought she saw an apology, instant 
and cursive though it was, in his eyes. That made her relax inside, eased 
her mind somewhat. 

She put her attention on the many television sets again. Fires were still 
raging, buildings were still falling into the street and it occurred to her 
that she had never realized that there were that many buildings to fall, but 
strangely there was a new order to the whole scene that had not been there 
the last time she looked. There were more police cars in the street, the 
National Guard troops had advanced, apparently, far into the riot torn area. 
Firemen were trying to bring the fires under control without hindrance. 
Suddenly the sound from the television sets entered her thinking process and 
she listened to the announcer. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, I never thought to see anything like thisl There have 
been riots all over the country lately, but this is war! There is nothing 
left here. The hate that these people feel, the frustrated anger they have 
toward the whole white community-I simply can't put it into words. What is 
happening here, what is becoming apparent to all the television people, is 
that this was not started by a few hotheads, a few black racists, even 
though it might have been, but certainly the rest of the negro community 
here went for it in a big way, as you can see. There's nothing left. All 
services have been disrupted. The food supply will begin to get shorter and 
shorter. There is nothing left on the shelves of the stores. Nothing. That 
is in the stores still standing. The water pressure is down to almost 
nothing. The firemen have been fired upon trying to put out the fires that 
these people started. There is nothing in a three block area that is 
standing, that isn't burning or else a smoldering pile of ashes. Yet, the 
riot goes on. We are not close to bringing it under control. There is no 
meeting with leaders-there are none." 

His voice droned on describing the mayhem, the chaos, and Deborah knew that 
he, the announcer, was trying to grasp what he was seeing. She had had some 
very recent experience in doing just that herself. But that didn't, she 
realized, help her. She lay naked, her ill-used body sore and tired, dumbly 
staring straight ahead. 

Joe spoke to her. I'm . j. I'm sorry, I ... I guess I don't even know your 
name." 

Deborah turned a cold stare upon him, held his eyes with her own, said, 
"Deborah. But, I know yours, Joe." 

"Well ... yeah ... look, Deborah ... I wanted to explain something, to you 
... see ... we're just in the National Guard, you know. We were called up to 
put down this riot and the first place we come to we find you here and that 
big black mother on top of you trying to ... to fuck you." He stopped and 
looked away from her. 

"Oh, shut up!" Deborah lashed out at him. Anger taking control of her, at 
him. As soon as she said it she was sorry. She knew that she could talk to 
him, could perhaps manipulate his thinking even if she had failed with the 
black ones. 

"You're a disgrace," she said, "A disgrace to the uniform and a disgrace to 
the nation." 

"Well, now, wait a minute," he started, I'm not asking you to tell me about 
myself, no siree. I just wanted to explain to you how we got here and why 
maybe we acted like...." 

"Tigs!" Deborah supplied the word for him. "I don't care how you got here. 
You did get here. You made it You have raped me, big warriors that you are, 
and you'll pay for it If I five, if I survive this madness, you'll pay." 

"Not so fast there," Joe warned, I might have forced you a little, but don't 
tell me you didn't enjoy it." 

"Oh, shut up! What do you mean enjoy it? What choice do, did I have? Being 
attacked by two riot control troops like you? Sure, I enjoyed it. You're the 
lover of the century. And when and if I get out of here, I'm going to see to 
it that you and your buddy there," she jerked her head in the direction of 
Dave, "Are punished. Maybe you'll enjoy that. You're ten times worse than 
any of the black boys that dragged me here. You're more animalistic. And 
there's no excuse for it on your part, none whatever. They set out to cause 
disorder and they did it. You two, who have a great deal more education and 
training than they, came here to restore order and lost control of 
yourselves before you joined the battle. If I live, if I get out of here 
alive, I'll see that you get the punishment that you so well deserve." 

"Look ... ugh ... Deborah ... ugh ... please. I know how you feel. It's just 
... well, that you have one hell of a body. Who can resist it?" He tried to 
smile. 

He succeeded in making Deborah aware of her nakedness all over again. She 
drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. She turned her head 
abruptly and spoke to Dave, "There are piles of women's clothes over there. 
You find me something suitable to wear-something for the occasion," she 
laughed bitterly, "And be damned quick about it!" 

Dave sprung to his feet and moved hurriedly toward the pile of clothes. He 
shuffled through them, holding a dress up, looking at it critically, then 
tossing it aside and picking up another. Finding one that he liked and 
thought might please her, he brought it back to her and held it out at arm's 
length. 

Deborah didn't even bother to look at it. She slipped it on over her head 
and pulled it down so that it covered her legs. It was another cocktail 
dress, much too large for her, and she had to hold her hand over the top of 
it to keep her breasts modestly covered. 

Dave stood looking at her, his eyes bugged out, fixed on her. She looked up, 
knew without thinking that she had somehow become more desirable to him 
clothed than she had been nude. She felt like smashing him. Nothing she did, 
she told herself, was right. She gave a little laugh at the things she had 
done wrong, the steps she had taken that had all, it seemed to her, worsened 
her situation. Now another. But, she felt she could handle him. If she 
couldn't, she told herself, she was far beyond hope. 

"Sit down and quit staring at me! I find it revolting!" Deborah barked at 
him. 

He turned slowly, having heard a sound that she had missed because she had 
been speaking, and looked at Benjie. He was coming awake, making groaning 
sounds that any drunk would make when he awakens with a hangover. He sat up 
and put his hands carefully around his head and cradled it, then looked 
through his fingers slowly, and moaned, "Gawd, de Army's here!" Joe was 
standing in front of him before he finished the sentence. He was still nude, 
but he had a half-empty bottle of bourbon in his hand. "So you're awake, 
nigger boy." he spoke slowly through clenched teeth. 

"Yes suh," Benjie answered, not moving, his voice low and controlled, "I's 
awake." 

Joe lifted his foot and jabbed it towards the small chest of Benjie and 
continued through with the movement until Benjie was laying fiat on his 
back. Joe's white foot was squarely on his chest, the toes just under his 
chin, and pressed down mightily on the frightened, accepting Benjie. "You 
black cock-sucker, you. So you ganged up on a poor little white girl and 
helped rape her, huh? The penalty for that is death, black boy, so you woke 
up just in time to go to sleep permanently," Joe snarled. 

Benjie did not seem to be surprised. His eyes were wide with fright, with 
the comprehension of the hopelessness of defending himself. He turned to 
look at Deborah. He said nothing to Joe who was preventing him from getting 
full lungs of air. Deborah's feelings were stirring crazily. She looked at 
the gallant naked warrior standing so tall and deadly above the small black 
Benjie and did not react for a couple of minutes. On the one hand, Benjie 
had not been kind to her, had violated her and her person without 
considering the consequences of his actions, but they were actions of a 
fourteen year old On the other hand, Joe, her would be savior, had violated 
her and he was perfectly aware of what he had done and how he would suffer 
as a consequence. Anyway she looked at it, she had been the innocent victim 
of all their carnal desires, so she would have to use whatever weapon was at 
hand to save herself. She hated to do it, but she did. She pitted Benjie 
against the two of them. 

"Take your foot off him, hero," she said, standing. 

Surprisingly, he did as she bade him. She looked at the small Benjie, at his 
wide startled eyes, and said, "Benjie, these two big men have killed Ape and 
have raped me. I presume they will now kill you and me because if they 
don't, if I get out of here alive, I am going to see to it that they get 
what's coming to them. Do you understand that?" 

Shame settled on her shoulders like a lead weight Benjie immediately 
understood. She could see by the slow movement of her head that he realized 
that she had put him in a position from which there was no hope of escape. 
Just knowing of their actions had sealed his doom, had cut off all hope of 
survival. She wished immediately that she could take back her words, but she 
couldn't. They had been said and the weight of them hung in the air like a 
rock over his head, waiting to drop and crush out the short life he had 
lived. 

Joe turned to her, his deflated prick still hanging limply down between his 
legs, and spit out his words: "Well, Bitch, you done it now." 

"You should say 'You have done it now,' or 'You did it'. Your English is 
atrocious, you miserable slob." Deborah answered him, her superiority over 
all of them suddenly asserting itself, making her smile through her words. 
Without warning she had begun to feel differently, suspected that somehow, 
some way, she might get the upper hand if she could just control her own 
mind and think clearly. Dave whimpered, much as a baby might, and confirmed 
her thinking. 

Joe turned on him, shouted, "Shut the fuck up! You're in this just as much 
as I am, so don't start crying you fucking baby. We found this white bitch 
here with a gang of black looters and so we kill the whole fucking bunch. 
You god-damned well better never forget it or ever change the story." He 
began to sweat. His body was shining with it. 

"I don't think he'll ever remember it, let alone forget it," Deborah 
laughed, "So if you are intent on another murder, you better make it three." 

"Shut your filthy mouth, Bitch," he snarled at her, then shot Dave a 
sidelong glance. "Act like a man, god-damit!" he ordered Dave, pushing him 
aside and almost knocking him over. 

"Joe ... wait. Don't listen to her. I can remember. We've been buddies for a 
long time," he pleaded, his eyes full of fear and fastened on Joe who was 
now the possessor of both rifles. "Shit, man, I always listen to you. Don't 
I, Joe? Haven't I always done what you told me?" 

Joe trembled slightly, the sweat poured off his body, and he looked at Dave 
steadily, seeming to weigh and judge him, as though he were trying to decide 
whether to let him live or die. "Yeah, you're right kid. You and me are good 
buddies. You don't want to die, do you?" 

"No, oh, no, I knew you wouldn't listen to her. I must be crazy thinking a 
thing like that. Let me have my rifle, Joe," Dave said, reaching out his 
hand but making no move forward, giving he to his words. 

"You don't need it, Dave, you might do something foolish, like kill that 
nigger boy, huh?" Joe grinned at him. "You wanted to fuck her, too, didn't 
you, Dave boy. You might as well give her a good fuck before she dies, Dave 
boy. Yeah." Dave turned his hot scared gaze onto Deborah, his eyes filled 
with desire and lust, but behind it all knowledge, even if not accepted yet, 
of being trapped. "God, yes. I wanna' fuck her, Joe. Yeah, I do." 

For several pregnant seconds their heavy breathing could be heard above the 
sound from the television sets, each measuring the other, one for 
sinceriity, the other for confirmation of the weakness that he knew existed 
in the other. Benjie lay still, his eyes resting on Joe, as were Deborah's, 
waiting to see what he would decide. Both Deborah and Benjie knew that their 
fate rested in the hands of Joe that Dave would do as he was told, would 
never have the spunk to go against him. Deborah spoke, hoping to split 
forever the breach between the two of them, not knowing whether or not she 
was sealing her own doom. 

"You're not very bright, Dave. Hell kill you while you're in the act, and me 
too, and hell go scot free. He's smarter than you are and he's completely 
crazy." Deborah had spoken slowly, wanting Dave to hear every word and 
understand it She knew without doubt that Joe was thinking of doing that 
very thing. He could go back to his superior officer and tell him that he 
had caught Dave in the act of raping her and had had to kill him. She knew 
it. 

So did Dave after it was spelled out to him. He turned hurt eyes on Joe and 
Joe laughed and said, "Buddy, you gonna' listen to that Bitch or me? Which?" 
he asked, raising one of the rifles to the level of his hip. 

Dave's uniform was soaked through. Sweat dripped off his face. His eyes 
never left Joe. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out He made a 
dry hawking sound down deep in his throat, then drank deeply from the bottle 
he had in his hand before answering. "I listen to you, Joe, like always. You 
know that." 

"O.K., Buddy, get your shitty uniform off and get on her. We gotta get back 
to our unit. You got time enough for one good fuck." Joe's eyes were pinned 
on the helpless Dave all the time he was speaking. 

Dave began to fumble with the large brass buttons of his uniform, and he 
somehow managed to take off his blouse, then he had another long drink from 
the bottle, then undid his belt, unbuttoned his fly, and tried to get his 
pant legs off over his shoes. He smiled up embarrassedly at Joe, unlaced his 
boots and removed them, then took off his trousers. He removed his shorts 
and revealed for all of them his extra white body and his small, limp sex. 
Deborah laughed a harsh, cruel bark and said, "You have so little to be 
concerned about, Dave. 

His whole body reddened. Joe laughed at him, said, "Let her see if she 
believes that when you're pushing her fucking tonsils out her mouth with 
your prick, Dave old buddy." 

Joe took a drink, with his free hand made so by laying one of the rifles on 
the floor and standing on it, his eyes never wavering from Dave. Then, "Get 
that god-damned silly dress off her and get started. He turned his attention 
to Benjie and ordered him, "Hey, black cock-sucker, git off your lazy ass 
and help him. You might have to hold her." He laughed obscenely. Benjie 
slowly got to his knees, then to his feet, his breathing slow and measured 
and his eyes big and watchful of Joe. He looked at Deborah, said softly, 
"I'm sorry, but Ah gotta' do as he tell me." 

Deborah was amazed at her own acceptance of her lost hopes. She had tried to 
bring matters to a head between the two of them, but Dave had been of no use 
to her. She had hoped that he might have stood his ground more firmly, that 
he might have tried to control his own destiny just a bit. But he hadn't, 
didn't have the strength nor the wisdom, she realized too late. She felt 
infinitely sorry for Benjie. He twisted her heart when he spoke to her 
because she knew that although his mind and intellect were untrained, that 
he was bright and that he had accepted his fate, that he was ready to die, 
and that he probably was being especially kind to her to say what he had to 
her. 

"I know, Benjie, I know. I can do it without help, though." Tears streamed 
down her face as she spoke. "You won't have to hold me, Benjie. Just sit 
down, please. I don't want you to watch." 

"Yess'um," Benjie answered, turning his head away from her, his own eyes 
gushing tears. 

"Hurry the fuck up!" Joe ordered, causing all of them to jump at the sound 
of his voice. 

Deborah, resigned to her ultimate humiliation, removed the cocktail dress, 
then lay down on her back on the semen stained mattress. Dave made a move, 
almost turning away from her, then caught himself and dropped down on the 
mattress alongside her. She noticed that he was trembling. 

"You're a virgin, Dave, aren't you? Well, so was I until about a century 
ago. It's overrated, Dave. Too bad you have to die for it. It isn't worth 
it." 

Dave's whole body let loose a convulsing sob. He covered his face with his 
hand, his shoulders sagged and he trembled. He jumped when Joe spoke. 

"What the fuck's the matter with you? Hurry the shit up. We ain't got all 
day. Just do it like you told me you done it to all them chicks, Dave. 
You're always braggin' about what a fucker you are, so let's see you go to 
it," oe said, moving closer to the mattress and nudging him in the ribs with 
the rifle barrel. "And you, bitch, keep that filthy fucking mouth of yours 
shut or I'll put this in it to close it," he told Deborah, picking up his 
huge prick in his hand and waving it at her. 

Dave lowered himself on to Deborah, his milk white flesh revolting her. He 
tried to put his mouth onto hers, but she moved her head sideways and 
prevented his doing so. He took her firm large breasts in his hands and 
squeezed them. "You're clumsy," Deborah whispered to him. He let go of her 
breasts as though they were five coals in his hand rather than the beautiful 
soft mounds of rose colored tipped flesh that they were. He contented 
himself with moving his sex against her soft, smooth stomach, up and down, 
and to Deborah's delight it did not lengthen, but seemed to shrivel back 
into itself. "You're no good, Dave, because you're gonna' die, you're no 
man, you're a coward and without watching Joe you can't even get hard," she 
whispered, knowing that he would soon believe what she was saying, that he 
was too frightened to screw her. 

Deborah did not have long to speculate. He rolled off her, onto his back and 
cried. "I can't Joe," he sobbed, "I jest don't want to, now," he moaned, his 
manhood crushed, his prick limp between his legs. 

"You fucking liar," Joe hissed. "You watch a good man at play, then," he 
said, dropping on to the mattress between Deborah's long legs. He tossed the 
rifle he had aside, then abruptly lifted her legs and aimed his hardened 
prick at the wet, pink opening between her thighs and brutally shoved it in, 
causing Deborah to cry out in pain and hurt. But, he kept on without 
stopping and shot it all the way into her and ground down hard into her 
unready cunt, tearing cruelly at the widestretched walls and feeling like 
raging fire to her cuntal lips. The pain was unbelievable to Deborah. She 
had screamed out with the first penetration of her tortured vagina, but the 
pain had become worse with each further millimeter of hardened flesh that he 
shoved into her. She trembled under him, moved her legs outward to position 
herself to move from his lancing jab into her, but only succeeded in helping 
him to drive more fully into her. She could feel the hard bulbous head 
against the top of her vagina, grinding hard into her, and at the same time 
his already monstrous cock was getting harder and longer within her soft 
yielding pussy. She moved, trying to get from under the searing pain, but he 
plunged at her, grabbing her soft curved buttocks and forced her toward him, 
then drove completely into her, hurting the small mound of her cunt when his 
pelvis smashed brutally against it. 

Joe pushed on and on until he felt the large bulbous head of his prick slip 
into the wet, warm glove like enclosure deep inside her, then he left it 
there, waiting for her conquered little pussy to ac cept its rightful 
master. He remained there, grinding slowly, the large head moving inside the 
tight enclosure, until he felt the response that he knew would come, then he 
moved it out, slowly, enjoying the small involuntary grasping at his 
hardened prick with her vaginal walls, the moisture warming his hardness and 
lubricating the tightness of her. He squeezed her nice soft ass with his 
hands, moving her buttocks apart when he pushed in, then together when he 
moved slowly out of her. He found her mouth with his and kissed her lips and 
felt the tentative struggle that she put up, then was elated with her 
acceptance of his mouth. He moved her lips apart and pushed his tongue into 
her and down into her throat and withdrew it and moved her tongue about with 
his own and then she was sucking and biting on his tongue. He moved in and 
out of her now hot little cunt, slowly, savoring the feel of it closed so 
tightly about his lust-throbbing cock, shoving in deep and grinding down and 
then feeling her response when she lifted her body up to his, not wanting to 
let his plunging cock escape fully from the soft, warm confines of her 
aroused pussy. 

Deborah shocked herself again. His initial plunge into her had hurt like 
hell, jolting her body with pain. But the large head slipping into her fully 
had caused the heat deep inside her to flare up again against her will. Then 
desire consumed her. 

She felt his mouth searching for hers and not wanting to but being unable to 
resist the warm lips of him, she had accepted his tongue into her mouth, 
deep into her throat and then he had excited hers with the lasciviously 
flicking tip of his own and she had taken it and wanted to pull it deep down 
into her throat. Her arms closed over his back and her long legs snaked out 
in the air and down over his hips and she pulled him into her and cared for 
nothing at all but what was happening to her. 

Joe's muscled back side tauntened up with every ram of his hardened pole of 
flesh into her tight little opening and relaxed once he was in to the hilt, 
then braced themselves for the withdrawal and the gathering again of the 
plunge back. His hard cock throbbed against the walls of her blood-warmed 
cunt and the pink soft flanges of it Wrapped about him tightly and securely. 
He gloried in the feeling of heat that increased with his every plunge into 
her and suddenly it bunched up in his groins and he knew that he was going 
to empty his load of hot semen into that warm little pussy again, but he 
wanted to delay, to enjoy the building and the hot pain of it. He slowed, 
going lazily in and out of her, but it didn't work. He had to cum and there 
was no holding back. He took her soft legs in his arms and bent them back 
over her body until they rested alongside her firm proud breasts, then 
rammed hotly into her tight cunt and pounded and shoved in short swift 
strokes and then it was there, the uncontrollable feeling that he had wanted 
to delay, the gripping tightness of his balls and throbbing of the blood in 
his long, plunging prick and he got ready to empty fully and searingly into 
her and suddenly, without warning, there were stars, millions of them, in 
clusters and separately and each of them sparkling and shining and 
shimmering with light bursting inside his head and a blackness closed in and 
there was nothing, no feeling, just vacancy and blackness. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Claude stood tall above Deborah, his black face glistening with sweat, a 
rifle in his hand, the stock of it blood-smeared, and smiled down at her. He 
was standing so that the television sets glowed in the background and framed 
him in an eerie glow. Deborah tried to smile back at him, but Joe was still 
on top of her, his prick rammed into her fully, slowly shriveling, blood 
pouring from his head, and she couldn't. Her mind could not fathom the 
sudden and swift changes that were taking place about her. 

Claude lifted the unconscious Joe from her and asked, "How long these white 
mothers been here?" 

He had the rifle aimed at the white curled body of Dave. 

"I don't know," Deborah said, then burst into tears, her whole body 
convulsing with her emotion. She sobbed out her misery for a moment, and 
then ashamed of herself, wiped the tears away with the backs of her hands. 
She was soon able to see and she looked up into the smiling face of Benjie. 
"He back, Miss, Claude done come back to save us," Benjie howled, his voice 
full of wonder and jumping up and down and the happiness showing in his 
large eyes. "Now we kill these white muthers!" 

She got control of herself with some effort, looked at the bleeding blond 
head of Joe. "Is he dead?" she asked, drawing herself tightly to the 
protection of Claude. 

"No, he's not dead. I just sort of tapped nim on the head. What happened to 
that poor bastard?" He wanted to know, motioning toward the balled up Dave. 

Dave was laying with his legs curled up into his stomach, his arms over his 
head, his whole body trembling and shaking. He was sobbing and moaning and 
making strange sounds. 

"He ... I ... he tried to have me, but he couldn't and...." Deborah tried to 
explain, uncertain what she should say, now concerned for the quivering 
white flesh of Dave. 

"Well take care of that mother, don't you worry none. Which one of 'em 
killed Ape?" he asked Benjie. 

Benjie lowered his head in shame and shook it from side to side. "I donn' 
know," he mumbled, his embarrassment clouding his whole being. 

"Benjie went to sleep, Claude. He's only a child and he drank so much that 
he passed out and Ape ... well," she paused and looked at Benjie who was 
pleading to her with his eyes, "Well, after he passed out, Ape tried to rape 
me." She lied, but she could not do or say anything to injure Benjie. Of all 
the things that had happened to her in such a short period of time, her 
compassion for Benjie, stood out above them all. "And, they came in and that 
one," she motioned toward Dave, "slipped behind him and hit him and ... Oh, 
God," she cried again, pressing herself down into the protective warmth of 
the mattress. 

"It's all right now, Baby, Claude's back, just like he said he'd be. The 
rest of 'em got picked up." 

"We see it all on the tee vee," Benjie informed him, hovering about, more 
relaxed than he had been since the whole nightmare began. 

"And these are the white muthers they sent to protect, you, huh?" Claude 
asked, not particularly of Deborah, but included Benjie in the question. 

"They soldiers of de state!" Benjie informed him. 

"They was gonna' kill my black ass and her too. I knowed it, Claude, but you 
come back." 

"I knew it, and you came back, Benjie," Deborah spoke, causing Claude to 
laugh and Benjie to correct himself immediately. 

"Claude," Deborah spoke softly, "I have to get Benjie out of here. I want to 
take him with me and have my mother adopt him and see if we can get him into 
school and let him have a life different than ... this. It's disgusting to 
think of a boy living in such conditions, his mother a common...." she 
stopped, not wanting to use the word in front of Benjie. 

"She's a whore," Benjie supplied, without embarrassment. 

"Not anymore, Benjie. Your mother is dead." Claude let the statement drop, 
slowly, his eyes searching Benjie's face for some emotion that he knew 
wouldn't be there. 

"She be dead a long time fer me," Benjie told them, subdued and again quiet. 
He moved into the darkness of the room and away from them. 

Neither Deborah nor Claude made a move in his direction. Claude knew that 
there was nothing that could be done, and Deborah didn't feel capable of 
movement The two of them sat silent, for a long moment, looking around them 
at the useless havoc that had been wreaked upon the lives of each of them 
present in the room. 

Claude broke the silence, saying, "Benjie, let's tie these two soldiers up. 
Come on and help me. There's some rope in that cupboard over there." He 
turned off all the television sets but one, a colored set, and then went to 
the task of binding up the two men. 

He made the incoherent Dave sit back to back with the unconscious Joe and he 
bound them together. Dave whimpered but did as he was told, offering no 
resistance what-so-ever. Joe's blood-matted head hung to the left of him. 
Claude examined him casually, said, "Too bad, but this muther s hardly hurt. 
But this one," he continued, putting his large hand on the top of Dave's 
head and forcing it up and back against Joe's, "He hurt bad. No stitches 
will ever heal his wounds. His mind done snapped." 

Claude returned to the mattress and sat down alongside Deborah and suddenly 
she was aware of her nudeness, the whole scene overpowering her mind in slow 
torrents of memory and pain. She reached for the dress she had removed 
earlier and drew it to her. Claude stopped her, took the dress from her 
hands, said softly, "Don't, please. I want to look at you." 

Deborah decided that it hardly mattered now whether she was clothed or not. 
She had been naked so long, her body had been so misused in so many ways 
that she was beginning to forget some of them. She just no longer cared. 
Claude looked at her again and talked to her. "I'm gonna' get you out of 
here, even if you go to the police and have them track me down. I owe it to 
you. I could apologize and tell you that I'm sorry that I took your 
virginity, but I'm not and I don't want to lie to you. I'm going to put on 
one of those soldier uniforms and escort you out and away as soon as it's 
dark, I'm give you my name and address on a piece of paper and after this is 
over-if it ever is-you can send the police after this black boy and he'll 
own up to, admit everything. I promise. But I can't do it until darkness." 

"Thank you, Claude, I knew there was goodness in you after all," she said 
gratefully. 

"You really gonna' take Benjie with you?" he asked, ignoring her expression 
of gratitude. 

"If hell come. He wants to become a Jew. I mean he wants to find out what 
it's about. So do I, really. I know nothing about it. I couldn't help him 
when he wanted to know, but I can help him to find out. His father was a 
Jewish man. He has to know about his father." 

Deborah paused and looked off into the distance, her gaze resting on the 
television set Mayhem still reined. The announcer had been replaced by a new 
man, but the difference was hard to discern. Deborah wondered idly if they 
turned them out of machines, smooth talking and unruffled un til they fully 
comprehended what was happening in the war-torn streets of Watts. What he 
was saying alarmed her, made her clutch at Claude to listen. "All the troops 
here are white. There were no colored guard soldiers because of the 
explosive situation. We don't know what the reasoning is behind this, but we 
understand that some colored troops will begin to arrive tomorrow. The 
effectiveness of the guard here is difficult to convey. All of them have 
acted in a way that can make each of us proud. They have used restraint and 
superior judgment...." And Deborah laughed and stopped listening. She wished 
that he could see the two that were tied together, wished that he could have 
been a witness to their 'strong restraint and superior judgment' But then, 
she knew they were exceptions, criminals really, not like the majority. All 
races had those. 

"I'll still get you out of here as soon as darkness comes, Deborah, don't 
you worry none," Claude assured her. 

"No. I'm past worry and beyond hope." She began to cry again softly, letting 
all her pent-up emotion spill out of her, and found relief in so doing. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Loud voices woke Deborah. She had sobbed herself to sleep and was awakened 
so abruptly by the loud shouting that she looked about in panic. Claude was 
standing naked above the two trussed up men, shouting at Joe, whose face was 
red and strained. He pushed against his bonds, trying to rid himself of 
them, shouting at Dave, who was staring straight ahead of himself, 
unhearing, unbothered. 

"Shut your filthy mouth, white fucker, because it won't do you no good to 
bellow and holler. You are doomed. Even if I decide to let you five, you're 
gonna' be shot by your own people so you might as well shut up and save your 
strength." 

Joe turned to look at Deborah, said, "This big black buck was gettin ready 
to screw you, while you was asleep. You help us get out of here. Maybe you 
can talk to him, make him see reason." 

Deborah laughed. She felt completely rested, not knowing that she had slept 
only a short while, and the ridiculous idea that she would help him, in any 
way, seemed to her the funniest thing she had ever heard. She fell back onto 
the mattress, laughing hysterically, her hand on her breasts. 

"Ah, you bitch...." Joe started, but stopped abruptly because Claude smashed 
a fish into his face. 

Claude said nothing to him. Instead, he walked to the pile of clothes and 
ripped one of the dresses apart, then returned to where Joe and Dave were 
sitting and tied one piece of the material around Joe's head. He started to 
do the same to Dave, then said, "Shit, what's the use? He cain't see nothing 
anyway." He returned to Deborah and took her in his arms, she unresisting, 
and said, "He was telling the truth, Deborah. I was getting ready for making 
love to you, but I was going to wake you first." 

Deborah did not answer. She felt that he somehow had the right to do as he 
liked with her, would anyway whether the freedom to do so was there or not. 
She tried to think back to his forcing of her to sex, but she couldn't It 
seemed like eons of time ago, another age for her. She decided that she 
would relax and accept the inevitable and make it easier on herself. After 
all, there was nothing she could do about it now. 

"Where's Benjie?" she asked, not wanting him to see her taken again. 

"He's asleep. Don't you hear him snoring?" Claude laughed. 

Deborah listened and she did hear him, and a suspicion entered her mind. 
"Did he have more to drink?" She wanted to know. 

"A little. It just put him to sleep, that's all. Hell recover nicely, maybe 
a little hangover, but that'll be all." 

He sought Deborah's mouth with his and closed his thick lips over hers. He 
kissed her, then said, "I don't have to do any teaching this time," and 
placed his mouth back over hers. His lips worked against hers, moistly, and 
his tongue out-lined the rim of her mouth, then pushed softly and gently 
into her and he felt with his large pink tongue for her small one and took 
it and sucked at it and pushed it about her mouth, unhurriedly, and then 
glided down the length of her tongue and she worked hers up against his, and 
he pushed it on into her throat and worked it in and out of her. She 
responded to him against her will, enjoying the manipulations that he so 
expertly performed with his huge tongue. Her body began to strain against 
his hard muscled one, and she let herself relax even more, accepting the 
idea of him again, knowing that even if she did resist that her body would 
undoubtedly betray her as it had done before. She put her soft white hands 
around his neck and felt the kinky, bristly hair of him and shivered. He 
moved his head away from her mouth and took her firm, jutting breasts in his 
black hands and said, I've never seen such beauty in my life," and bent and 
kissed softly at the pink nipples and sucked at them, each in turn, and 
moved his hot mouth down onto the fullness of her breasts and Deborah looked 
at his dark lips working at her white breasts and moved them toward his 
eager lips. 

She could feel her nipples involuntarily hardening and heat flared into her 
breasts. She pulled his head toward her and Claude did not resist her 
yearning. His mouth sucked and bit at her hardening nipples and his wet hot 
lips closed over the firmness of the white, succulent flesh that her rose 
tipped nipples seemed to spring from. His large muscular hands were busy on 
her hips, inflaming the white flesh so that it heated even his own palms. 

When Deborah let a low moan escape her, he moved his mouth back to hers and 
lifted himself so that his long, lengthening prick lay atop her soft stomach 
and his black sacked balls rested in a crevice of her long legs tightly 
pressed together. He kissed her hotly, burning into her, thrusting his long 
tongue down her soft throat and his hands massaged the hardened nipples of 
her jutting breasts. He could feel her move under him, a ripple of 
excitement from her body shuddering into his. He moved his mouth to her neck 
and sucked in the sweet whiteness of her, then to her yearning white breasts 
and kissed and bit and sucked until her movements were becoming frenzied, 
then his mouth sought and found her round, smooth stomach and he licked at 
it with his tongue, and pushed his teeth against its surface and quieted the 
quivering there and then his head moved down, his mouth closed over the 
silky down at her thighs and he pushed his teeth into it, feeling the 
structure and the hardness of her there. 

He moved her slim white legs apart without effort and his chin worked down 
into the wetness of her vaginal cleft, and was followed by his hot breath, 
and he spread her soft, hair-lined lips apart and thought he would die of 
enjoyment just having the closeness of her spread before him and seeing the 
wet pinkness of her, the small gaping secrecy of her open to his eyes and 
mouth and later, his black prick which would seek warm, wet haven in her 
tight cunt of joy. 

He flicked at the soft, ragged lips with nis tongue and she shuddered and 
lay still, waiting, and he moved his tongue in further and traced the edges 
of it, completely around the small opening, then pushed it through, slowly, 
all the way into her cunt, and the juices flowed against it, warming the 
sides and the top of his tongue and he felt her clitoris pass softly over 
the top of it and he pushed on and heard her moan of pleasure and reached 
the end of ability to penetrate her and he breathed deeply of the sweetness 
of her and pushed the whole of his mouth to her opening and sucked gently 
and firmly and she moved up wildly to his face and her soft hands played 
about his head and his tongue went back in deep, and her legs flew around 
his shoulders, opening her little hole wider and he withdrew his long tongue 
and nibbled at her soft pink lips and moved his hot tongue to her tight 
little asshole and flicked it at the rubbery tissue there and poked into it 
and had to stop because he couldn't breathe and his heart constricted so 
that he would die. 

He rested only a moment and his pink muscled tongue worked its way back into 
her hot, now pulsating cunt and shot in and out and Deborah moaned and flung 
herself about under him and bucked up to his face and used her hands locked 
behind his head to pull him ever further inside her and he was delighted 
that he could give her so much excitement and enjoyment and he muffled her 
with his whole mouth, and sucked the sweetness into his throat and worked 
his tongue in and out and knew that she was almost ready to cum and helped 
her by running his hard muscled jaws into her and against the quivering lips 
of her straining pussy. His pink muscle worked in and out of her in 
lightning strokes and she screamed an eerie cry and threw her hot cunt up at 
his swirling tongue and locked her legs around his black shoulders and tore 
at his hair and ground against him and bucked violently and groaned and then 
sighed heavily and let her muscles go lax and her legs rested on his back, 
the white softness of them burning deep into his muscles and he enjoyed 
every moment of it all and continued to suck the moisture of her essence 
into him and gathered strength from it. 

Claude kissed the pink wet opening gently, then moved his head back over her 
magnificent flesh, kissing the pubic hair as he did so, then to her rounded 
soft stomach, and back to her breasts and took the little rosebuds in his 
mouth again and worked to harden them and they responded instantly and stood 
stiff against his tongue. He kissed her soft mouth and shoved his tongue 
inside her and liked the sweetness there and gently and firmly shoved it 
down her throat. He felt her soft white hands on his hard back, moving 
lazily up and down and feeling the muscles there, and he kissed her in 
appreciation. 

He wanted to fuck her now, to shove his rod up to her very heart and feel 
the beat of it against the head of his prick. He lifted her legs apart again 
and put his hand over her lust-stretched little cunt and it started to 
close, to draw back from him, so he massaged and then used only one finger 
to enter her and her soft flesh closed around the intruding member and he 
knew that she was ready for him, for the hardness of his cock in her, so he 
carefully raised himself to his knees between her ivory white thighs and 
took his long, long hard prick in his pink palm and guided the head of it to 
her slit and gently worked it against the flanges of her cuntal lips and 
then ever so easily pushed it in and she accepted him easily and he stopped 
and ran his hand up and down the smoothness of her white legs and let his 
eyes run over her jutting and proud breasts. His own body was shaking with 
desire. He pushed into her, knowing that he was hurting her, but he 
continued on and she made not one protest, but he left off for many moments, 
then continued with his inward thrust, the soft head of his big cock opening 
and pushing the walls apart for the rest of his long, aching cock to follow. 
He looked at his blackness disappearing into the white mystery of her and 
exhaulted in the fact that he had conquered, had loved her, nobly. He 
continued in, stopping when she gave the slightest push against his chest, 
and came at last to the flood gate of her, the core of her cunt, that final 
opening. He rested there, then forced his cock head into the center of her, 
and she groaned and accepted what had to be painful to her. He ground down 
carefully and felt a tremor of response and continued, knowing that she was 
awakening deep inside to his hardened prick, and then he took it out, just 
over the edge of the top of her, then shoved it back, and she tightened 
around him and fire deep inside her met his; he withdrew all the way, 
leaving the head of his prick just inside the soft, hair-lined lips between 
her widespread thighs and started the same slow process over again. 

Her straining legs moved again to his back and he lowered himself onto her 
and took her head in his hands and moved her hair back with his mouth and 
kissed her ear wetly and then touched the inside of it with his tongue and 
she purred like a well-fed kitten under him. He moved his hard black prick 
in and out of her, and the wet walls of her cunt clung to him, snugly. He 
loved the feeling and would have prolonged it forever had it been possible 
for him. But his groins tightened and he felt her stir deep within and he 
had to increase his rhythm and that felt good, too, and he shoved and rammed 
and plowed into her and hoped that he was touching her white heart with his 
black prick and he had to cum and she lifted herself up to him meeting every 
stroke or jab of his prick with an upward thrust and it was there for him, 
he couldn't hold back and he knew it was the same for her, so he bore in, 
cruelly, and forced the head into the secret and topmost part of her and 
ground down heavily and moved his hands to her firm white mounds and 
squeezed and pushed them together at her and every part of his body suddenly 
burned and he knew exactly when his semen left the constricture of his balls 
and shot through the small opening and met her own orgasm in a wild, 
maddening jolt that almost tore his senses from him; he bucked and plunged 
and pushed into her with all his might and finally collapsed onto her, his 
prick still hot and hard and secure inside her tight opening. 

They lay together, black on white, without thinking, enjoying each other and 
the nearness and oneness that they felt, and the world of chaos still raged 
on the outside and was pictured in color on the television. 

Claude spoke first, moving down deeper into her, wanting to keep the feeling 
of hot closeness that he so enjoyed, saying, "If it wasn't impossible, I'd 
tell you that I loved you, because I do." 

"Impossible? To love? There is nothing else," Deborah replied, his words 
heating her more than the hardness of his long cock resting inside her. 

"You see love in color on the big eye," he laughed. "Except it stops and 
turns to hate in black and white." 

"It works the other way, too. If you love me it's because your hate has 
turned to love." Deborah moved, slightly, wanting to make herself more 
comfortable. 

Claude withdrew from her, breaking the close contact that he had with her, 
tearing the both of them back to the present world and making both of them 
aware of the mess around them: Joe swearing at the world through the 
material over his head, Dave staring straight ahead, Ape dead, his long 
black cock laying straight out from his body, and the most pleasant sound of 
all coming from Benjie who still snored softly, secure in his 
child-innocence while the world fell apart about his shoulders. 

Claude stood up. 

"It's time. Darkness. A black man can glide through the night, unseen, but 
the daytime offers no protective covering. Get something to wear," Claude 
told her, helping her up from the mattress. 

Deborah went to the pile of dresses that had been picked through and 
scattered, and she further scattered them, picking one up, looking at it 
critically, tossing it aside and selecting another. She chose the plainest 
one she could find, pulled it over her head, clutched it about her and 
turned back to Claude. 

"Whoever took these has his sense of taste in his heels," she laughed. 

"Whoever took them wanted to see his girl aglitter, sparkling in her black 
skin. It'll take awhile for taste," he said, slowly and softly, looking at 
her with his dark brooding eyes. He turned to Joe without waiting for an 
answer from her and tore the cloth from his head. "You see now white boy." 

Joe looked around the room, blinking, and fastened his eyes on Deborah. "You 
fucking, nigger-loving whore!" Joe bellowed. "I heard...." he managed before 
Claude gave him a clot in the mouth with his fist, and felt the bones 
crumble with the impact of the blow. Joe passed out. 

Claude untied the two of them, speaking to Deborah as though it were an 
every day occurrence to break a jaw: 'We gotta' get out of here fast. You 
wake Benjie and I'll untie these white warriors. We're gonna' hit the first 
floor of what's left of this store and we're gonna' stick close to the 
ground, like we been crawling all our lives, and I'll take you and Benjie to 
the crossing of the footbridge over the freeway and then you're on your own. 
Can you manage that?" 

"What are you going to do? Aren't you coming, too?" Deborah asked, startled. 

"No. Somebody's gotta' stay here and try to talk some sense into these crazy 
black heads before the whites split 'em all open. My job is here. I couldn't 
get out anyway and there's no where to go," he explained with remorse. 

"That isn't right, Claude. They'll kill you. And these two things." She 
motioned toward the crushed Joe and the immobile Dave, "They'll have you 
tracked down. Please. Come with us." 

"No, baby, I can't. My world's here a long way from where you live. You get 
Benjie out and safe, you've done more than your share. Just don't look back 
in anger as the man says." Claude turned away from her, stood very tall and 
straight, and brought his crying under control before he would let her see 
his face again. He swore at himself for his sentimentality. 

Deborah knew that he was crying, could tell by the rigidity of his broad 
shoulders, the tautness of his muscles. She did not speak to him but gently 
woke Benjie and said to him, "Come, Benjie, it's time to go home." 

"Home?" Benjie asked, his eyes wide and scared "Are it over? De through f 
ightin'?" 

"My home-your home, Benjie. We're through fighting, almost. All we have to 
do is get out of here and run two blocks, maybe three. Then well be home. 
Come. We have to start to work immediately on your grammar, you know, 
Benjie. I've heard that Jews are supposed to be very bright." She laughed at 
her own joke, quelling her nervousness somewhat, and pushed Benjie up the 
stairs ahead of her. 

The three of them stooped and ran along the street, through the debris of 
bricks and plaster and broken glass and remnants of human clothing and human 
blood, the rat-tat-tat-tat of machine gun fire sounding not too far away. 
Claude was the first at each comer, his face glistening like wet black 
marble, his coolness gathered securely to him, and waved and pushed them 
across the wide street and into the protection of a barely standing wall. 
"There. Twenty yards and onto the bridge. Keep down. Keep down on the 
bridge. Crawl if you have to, but don't put your head up over the handrail. 
It's too beautiful to have a hole in it," he told Deborah, his voice 
catching and his hand on her silky head. "But for another world and another 
time. GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" He literally pushed her away from him, then 
through a sob and at the back of Benjie, "Black boy, you take care dat white 
gal, ya' hear?" 

Deborah crouched low and took Benjie's hand in hers and couldn't see where 
she was going because for some stupid reason she was crying and the tears 
scalded and blinded her and she ran and pulled Benjie along and then she was 
on the bridge and the cars sped by under her, oblivious to her and the 
falling world just over them, and she was more than half-way across and then 
three-fourths of the way and a huge light was put into her and a bullhorn 
blurped and then a heavy voice cut through all the other sounds and blared: 
"Drop right where you are." Deborah dropped just where she was, taking the 
trembling Benjie down with her. "We's gonna die on dis fuckin' bridge," he 
moaned and Deborah dug her fingers into the palm of his hand and scolded 
him, saying, "Benjie, if you ever use that word again I'll wash your mouth 
out with lye soap." She laughed at herself and then crawled across the 
bridge as she was ordered and she was looking straight into the bore of one 
machine gun and a clutch of rifles and holding them was the blue uniformed 
men of the Los Angeles Police Department and she fell into the arms of one 
of them who said in wonder, "Christ! She's white and she got through that 
mess." She let her long pent-up self go and cried and felt so damned happy 
and safe that only the wail of Benjie's voice got to her. 

"You white muther...." Benjie had screamed, then the explosive sound of a 
slap had cut off his words. 

Deborah flew at the officer who was handcuffing Benjie and hit him in the 
face with all the strength she had and her nails made a pattern of four red 
streaks down his cheek and he raised his arm to hit her and a sergeant 
stepped between them, said in a level and calm voice, "You're relieved of 
your duty, Officer Muller, and charges will be brought against you for 
striking this boy." 

Deborah gathered the frightened Benjie in her arms and he clung to her and 
she refused to get into a police car. So, they sent two policemen with them 
to see her safely to her aunt's house. She walked through the door and cried 
at the safe familiarity of it, the very house she had fled from eons ago 
into the nightmare that she had thought would never end. 

EPILOGUE 

Deborah sat in the patio of her Beverly Hills home, enjoying the warmth of 
the sunshine fully on her, and read the paper. She put it down abruptly and 
spoke sharply to Benjie. "What did you just say, Benjie?" 

"I says 'shit' and I says oncet mor', dat shiit," he spoke accusingly. 

"I think that once might be sufficient, Benjie. I agree with you. It is...." 
she glanced over her shoulder to make certain that her mother was not in 
range of her hearing, "Pure shit." They both laughed, Benjie losing control 
of himself, slapping the table, then sitting abruptly straight in his chair 
and widening his eyes and kicking Deborah under the table, lightly, and 
motioning with his expressive eyes that someone was approaching. 

"It's nice to see you finally laughing, Deborah," her mother said, then 
paused and continued "and Benjie. Such an ordeal you've been through, my 
darling. Laughter is the best medicine, I suppose." She turned to the white 
maid who had appeared seemingly from nowhere, said, "Just a glass of orange 
juice, May," then back to Deborah: "What do you find so screamingly funny 
about all that fire and blood and gore that you're reading about, Deborah? 
It's really more than I can understand. Really." 

"Let's have Benjie read it to you from his paper, Mother. He needs the 
practice of reading aloud. Go ahead, Benjie, read for Mother," Deborah 
ordered him. 

"It say here...." 

"It says, Benjie," Deborah interrupted. 

"You done say don't say says," he accused her, hurt showing through his 
voice. 

"You shouldn't say done ... Oh, never mind for now. Read to Mother." 

"Yes, Benjie, be a nice boy and read the funny article. Mother's glasses are 
upstairs." 

Benjie caught the word 'Mother' and smiled slyly at Deborah, who nodded her 
head at him. "Well, it says here dat ... that two Guard troops have been 
cited for Outstanding Bravery and they is ... are to be decorated by de 
governor, who ain't here but is comin back," he could hardly contain 
himself, giggling after every other word. 

"Just read it like it is, Benjie," Deborah instructed him. 

"O.K. 'Capatin Henry Gallian of the Seventh Armoured Guard Division has 
asked that two of his men be cited for bravery, explaining that, 
'Investigating the basement of a liquor store from which rifle fire was 
issuing, the two men entered in the face of the fire, were disarmed, their 
uniforms were torn from their bodies and yet they managed to outwit their 
adversaries and, without arms, survive, having been left for dead by a gang 
of tough blacks that they estimate to have numbered twenty. Their only 
weapon of defense, a club, had to be used, unfortunately, against one of the 
rioting criminals with such force that he was killed. The younger of the two 
men, Private David Roper of San Mateo, is still in a state of shock. 
Corporal Joseph Harmon, also of San Mateo, spoke for the two of them, 
saying, through a broken jaw and other injuries that were inflicted on nis 
body by the demented rioters, 'We only did our duty, that's all.' It has not 
been made clear what medal will be given to these two brave guardsmen, but 
we imagine that...." 

Benjie stopped reading, looked at Deborah and said "And I say that's a crock 
of...." but stopped when she looked at him with a warning in her eyes and 
reminded him that they were not alone. Deborah's mother emptied her glass of 
orange juice, then told them, "I think that that is a marvelous idea. It is 
war, really, and their actions were ones of bravery. Deborah, I can't tell 
you how i felt when my sister called me and told me you had been missing for 
twelve hours. I thought I would die. I had just heard the news about the 
outbreak of the riots and she lives so close to Watts and my heart 
absolutely moved into my throat. I'm so glad you found Benjie and that you 
protected each other from harm." She smiled benignly at Benjie, "And we 
will, Benjie, if the courts allow it and if you will permit us, adopt you. I 
think that we can give you a much better life than you could ever have 
there, in that slum, with a mother who ... well, never mind. You are home 
now and well be eternally grateful to you for saving Deborah." 

"You'll have to excuse me, now. Benjie, you stay and talk to mother. I must 
he down for a few minutes." 

Deborah left the patio and went upstairs to her room. She sat on the bed and 
smoothed out the page of the sheet of newspaper she had taken before Benjie 
had joined her. She looked at the startling picture of Claude, who, even in 
death, looked almost noble and her tears splashed down onto the paper. She 
could not read the words that were said about him, but she was sure that 
they were not complimentary anyway. She cut the picture from the paper and 
tore the rest of it into small pieces and flushed it down the toilet in her 
own bathroom. Then she went to her desk and sat down and took a pen in her 
hand and wrote across the top of the newspaper picture words that were not 
new but ones that she never wanted to forget: BUT FOR ANOTHER WORLD AND 
ANOTHER TIME. She cried a long time until she was exhausted mentally and 
physically and eventually went to her bed and lay down upon it and slept, 
dreaming of Benjie's future, one that she would make for him. 

She smiled in her sleep, for a dream had formed, a dream of that other world 
and other time. 


THE END
