XE-1047 College Girl
By Sandy Wyman


INTRODUCTION

Countless magazine articles in recent years have documented innumerable cases of Americans who, each year, fall prey to a sickness worse than smallpox, one for which, seemingly, there is no vaccination. And one that strikes without prejudice, without class distinction, striking and crippling an itinerant laborer one day, a corporate chieftain the next with the same forcefulness. This disease, this crippler? Credit, and the abuse of it, destroyer of marriages, wrecker of homes, crusher of self-respect and pride. Yes, this sickness - and it is a sickness, mind you - preys upon the careless and the over-confident like the plagues of yesteryear, leaving behind, across the face of America, its cast-off millions, bankrupt, broken, and without hope.

In College Girl, we follow the scope of one such telling example, a young college coed, led into foolish over-extension of credit by her carefree roommate, and the terrible nightmare of horror, perversion, and despair that she finds herself entrapped in before she is finally set free. Who would have guessed that the simple act of signing one's name to a piece of paper could lead to such agony and despair? Certainly not Sandy Wyman!

But because she could not have foreseen such degradation and humiliation for herself, she was ripe enough target for the despoilers of youth and hope that prey upon the innocent trusting ones like Sandy.

Follow her lesson well, learn from it, heed its message, for her nightmare is not hers alone; and her tale of terror, while ended for her, is only beginning for countless others like her. And it is with this knowledge that we present her story, and with it the sincere hope that its content can help at least one person to leap free of a terrible fate before it's too late. If this can be done, Sandy Wyman will not have suffered in vain, nor will her nightmare tale of blackmail, white slavery, and suspense have been wasted.

- THE PUBLISHERS


CHAPTER ONE

Some days Marion Sykes just wondered what she would have ever done if Harmon Destian, all 6'-4", 220 pounds of him, hadn't come along when he did. Probably, for one thing, the store would be gone forever by now, raffled off to the highest bidder at some State of North Carolina tax sale, if not padlocked by the sheriff as an example to rotten businessmen and women like herself not to make the same mistakes. Surely, without Harmon's help, without his magical touch that just seemed to revitalize business over night, Stereo Junction would be just a memory by now, instead of the largest stereo equipment center in the southeastern United States.

After Mitchell's death last spring, Marion found herself with a growing pile of bills, slick-suited salesmen at the door, and absolutely no knowledge of how to run a stereo equipment dealership; for the business had been her late husband's pride and joy, his own creation, and it wasn't part of his plans to die of a heart attack before he was old enough to reap the profits of his fifteen years of hard work. He'd founded the business when stereo wasn't even in the vocabulary, except for those double-image viewers Grandma used to giggle over. He'd watched it grow from just a tiny little cubby-hole of a shop, selling Victor phonographs and an occasional imported piece of equipment, into a three-level showcase of everything that was reputable in the field of high fidelity music, stereos, turntables, tape recorders and decks, and just before his death, he even added a line of video tape equipment, remarking at the time that he never thought he'd live long enough to see electronic gadgetry available for the everyday man. The everyday man with thirty-five hundred dollars, that is!

Mitchell wisely attributed most of his success to his college-town location, though for years the college student body provided less than a tenth of his business. But as the North Carolina State University changed, gradually, from a solely engineering and technical school, into a liberal-arts-oriented university, his sales skyrocketed.

And then he died... right on top of things, without a penny's life insurance, in the best of health. Dead!

Marion didn't even open the store for two weeks after Mitchell's death; she just ignored the swamping heap of letters and telegrams, even had the phone company temporarily disconnect the telephone lines. The employees even seemed to understand; none of them seemed to think seriously that Marion was going to try to continue running the place now that her husband was gone. The best anyone hoped for was a sell-out, and only one competitor, Dixie Electronics, was big enough to consider absorbing them, but no one wanted to go with that arch-rival. Anyone who had worked for Mitchell Sykes, who had adopted his policies of fairness and honesty in dealing with the buying public, could never have dreamed of throwing in with Darion King and the bunch of cut-throats at Dixie.

* * *

But Marion hadn't been forced to make that move, though she could honestly say now that it would probably have been her only choice had Harmon not come along.

He wasn't too popular with the employees at first, having cut his teeth, so to speak, at Dixie Electronics. But after a few weeks, when they began to believe his assertion that leaving Dixie was the best thing he ever did and that he'd only stayed on as long as he did because there wasn't a job opening at Stereo Junction, things began to smooth out considerably. And now, not quite a year after Mitchell's death, Marion Sykes found herself, at forty, sole proprietress of a fast-growing business. Still one, granted, that she knew little about, but she had Harmon for that. Thank God for Harmon, she often said.

And he was due over in only a few minutes, she suddenly remembered. This was a particular occasion; not that he hadn't visited her home before, but tonight she was going to cook for him, some of his favorite dishes, and she did have to admit that the prospect of having a man for dinner for a change after ten lonely months was something to look forward to. Harmon wasn't that young, nearly thirty, and she was growing tired of all the behind-the-hand buzzing around the offices of Stereo Junction about the two of them being seen together. Raleigh and the South might have come along way in the past decade, but things like that could still start the old gossip circles going in no time flat.

There had really been nothing between them, of course. Just once, after a really big deal came through, he had kissed her and hugged her, lifting her off the floor with his strong football hero arms. But that was just kidding around, nothing serious, no more serious that when he used to hug those cheerleaders after the games at State when he was All-American lineman two years running.

He could have gone into pro-football; God knows, he had the offers. But Harmon liked it in the South, and here was where he'd stayed. And tonight, Marion Sykes thanked the Old South for that small favor.

* * *

Dinner had been over for an hour, and Harmon's coat and executive-striped tie were draped neatly over the back of the leather recliner that sat in the corner of the den. In the past, it had been Mitchell's favorite after-dinner chair, and it had scarcely been sat in since his death. Harmon had his arm around her as they sat by the fireplace, and somehow it seemed all right. Marion felt no guilt about this man showing a gesture of affection toward her. She basked contentedly, dozing off, then catching herself as her head sank with a jerk each time she fell asleep. She wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting quietly like this; the time just flew now that she was once again with a man, even a friend like Harmon.

"You asleep?" whispered Harmon, giving the rounded curve of her shoulder a gentle nudge. His hand felt strong and powerful through the thin fabric of her dress.

"No, uh-uh, just dozing a little," Marion answered, surprised to find herself squeezing a little closer to the young man's strong massive side.

And then, without a word between them, Harmon allowed his fingers to slide along the upthrust swell of her breast until his opened palm cupped the full surging mound of her tit delicately. He could feel her body stiffen, her breath suddenly coming faster as with one finger, his middle one, he caressed the inviting softness of her breast, rubbing the swollen tiny peak of her nipple through her flimsy dress as he admired the ample, womanly figure she still possessed. She was a specimen of good shape, her skin tight and resilient, her close-cut hair as rich and shining as a girl's half her age. He could hear a little purr coming from her lips, and he smiled to himself, savoring the effect he was having on her... he had her wrapped around his finger, that was for sure, right where he wanted to keep her. Marion Sykes was a gold mine, and he didn't aim to lose out on this claim... or share it with anyone.

He tweaked the sensitive nipple with his thumb and index finger, and she shivered involuntarily from the tip of her toes along her spine to her shoulders. Pausing for a moment, he moved his exploring hand around the firm curve of her breast until his fingers found what he was looking for: with practiced deftness, he eased the zipper down along the satiny plane of her back until he reached the taut elastic band of her panties. He stopped there an instant, slipping his fingers between her warm flesh and the tight band, far enough down the hollow of her naked back to reach the first few inches of her fleshy buttock crevice. Teasingly, he flicked a finger against the tightly puckered ring of her anus and felt her quickly shrink away.

"Shit, I'll bet ol' Mitchell never poked his prick in that little hole," Harmon mused to himself.

He massaged her nakedly sensitive flesh in slow concentric circles as his hand eased back along the smoothness of her back until he reached the stretched fabric of her dress, pulled taut now over her shoulders. Pausing first to unsnap the tiny three hooks on her bra, he then eased the shoulders of her dress down along her arms until the dress hung limply over her whitely firm breasts.

He stopped his smooth seductive motions and looked Marion over again, eyeing hungrily the rich, womanly full swells and hollows of her well-formed body. Yes sir, she was quite a nice little gal!

Again with his right hand, Harmon tumbled the fabric of Marion's dress and the sheer tissue of her bra over the bulging mounds of her breasts, exposing the twin half-dollars of her fully erect nipples, all pinkish and excited at being exposed to the air and to his eyes. They swelled even more rigidly as a sudden chill breeze caressed them, sending a burst of rippling electricity through her breasts and down into her man-hungry belly, fanning the embers of a long-dormant fire that once burned there.

Yes, God help her, she had been so long without a man, so long she had nearly forgotten the magic of a real man's touch, the thrilling ecstasy of being looked at and caressed this way.

His outstretched fingertips brushed lightly over the soft, warmly beckoning bulge of her tits, first one, then the other, before finally clamping tightly over the ripely mature mound, squeezing the delicate ivory-white flesh between his clenched fingers.

Marion could stand no more; she had kept silent as long as she could. "Oh, God, yes... don't stop, Harmon, darling, don't stop!"

Her knees were opening and closing like an accordion and her firmly fleshed buttocks were ground tightly down against the sofa. Marion could feel the warm dampness spreading between her thighs as the cheeks of her fully rounded ass clenched like starving lips at the fabric beneath them. Even his touch was driving her almost insane with heated desire, she was going out of her mind with blind passion... a scream was ready to burst from her lungs any second now from the agonizing deliciousness his knowledgeable fingers were bringing her. She offered no resistance as he shoved her over onto the cushions of the long sofa, stretching himself out beside her and continuing to relentlessly caress the nakedly soft white mounds of her full fleshy breasts. A low moaning cry escaped from her lips as he roughly squeezed the tenderly pulsating nipples between his fingers, toyed with them mercilessly as her whole body trembled and quivered from his touch.

His hands left the feverishly jutting nipples and slowly eased along the flat plane of her belly. Marion's body arched off the sofa as his fingers slipped once again under the waistband of her panties, brushing over the fluffy mound of her sparse pubic hair until his hand made a maddening electric contact with the warmly moist lips of her cunt; even in the dim light Harmon could see her flesh was covered with a million tiny goosebumps as she shivered convulsively at his wonderful touch.

"Ooooooo, it's so nice, so nice..." the love-starved widow murmured mindlessly, floating in space now at the ecstasy of a man's hands down there on her naked vagina.

Clutching the moist soft flanges of her pussy with his palm, Harmon ventured a finger between the wetly pink ridges, and Marion gasped as her feverish loins suddenly ground tightly up against his hand. His middle finger now slowly explored the entire hot length of her narrow wet slit, starting with the taut muscular ring of her anus, easing over the hard membrane of flesh that separated the two enticing channels before the probing finger finally reached the moistly clasping sheath of her pussy.

The soft pink walls parted unhesitatingly as his outstretched rigid finger slipped into the warmly clasping tunnel, and he could feel the fleshy passage open hungrily as he probed it deeply with his finger.

Nice, baby, huh?" he asked, sure of himself now.

Marion tried to reply, but as her lips parted to speak, Harmon sadistically squirmed a second stiffened finger into her constrictive passage, burying it up to the last joint in the warm juicy depths of her cunt. Only a muffled cry of pain and pleasure came hoarsely from her throat.

"Well, like it or not?" he teased again, wiggling his two fingers deep inside her hot, softly-layered flesh.

"God, yes... yes, I love it!"

Harmon's ravishing finger slipped from her pussy's wetly clasping grip, and he tantalizingly dragged his fingertip along her warm slit until he found the throbbing little bulb of her clitoris. Using just his thumb and forefinger, he squeezed the incredibly sensitive nerve-ending as the sex-hungry widow moaned and squirmed beside him on the sofa. Back and forth, as if playing with a marble, he rolled the pulsing little nodule, and Marion gasped and choked for air as rippling waves of undiluted animal passion and ecstasy swept over her shamelessly aroused body.

As her naked pelvis ground upward tightly against his palm, Harmon continued his maddening assault on her loins, twisting and pulling on her hardened pink clitoris until she moaned and cried out loudly from the delightful agonies of his skillful fondling.

"Don't stop, please... Don't stop!" she screamed loudly, her shrill words reverberating in the quiet rooms of her brick home.

Sensing she was near her orgasm, Harmon began to roughly rub her moistly throbbing cuntal slit with the tips of his fingers, stroking over the quivering fleshy peak of her clitoris and along the hot furrow between the hungrily pursed lips of her vagina.

"Oh, yes, yes... Yes!"

Suddenly Marion's buttocks and back arched high off the sofa, and as if she were possessed by a dozen demons, her warmly moist cunt began grinding madly against his open hand as a long pitiful moan slipped from her parched half-open lips.

"Ooooohhhhh... AAAAAaaaaaahhhhhh..." The impassioned young widow suddenly quivered from head to foot and jerked convulsively as the shuddering currents of her orgasm raced from her hotly straining loins, bathing his hand in a slippery gush of orgasmic juices that soaked his palm and seeped down the crevice of her buttocks before spreading in lewd trickles over the soft half-moon cheeks of her ass. Finally, with a trembling sigh, she slowly sank down on the couch, lying face to face with the young man.

She gasped hoarsely, still struggling to regain her breath, "Oh, darling... that was... fantastic!"

Harmon only smiled wordlessly, pulling his fingers from the warm wet grip of her pussy, wiping the slippery traces of her orgasmic fury from his hand with a handkerchief. Then he spoke, "Finish taking your clothes off, baby... we've got a lot to do yet."

Without thinking, Marion hurriedly removed her crumpled dress and panties, then unhooked her garter belt and, sitting on the edge of the sofa, pulled down her stockings and left them in a heap on the living room carpet. In just a few seconds, she was completely naked, her ripely mature body glistening with tiny beads of perspiration from the excitement and the anguished anticipation of having her first man in almost a year. She glanced down at him still reclining on the sofa and covetously eyed the thick elongated bulge in his trousers that seemed to her passion-glazed eyes to be a foot long. She twitched nervously, unused to a man's hungry eyes on her naked flesh. "Harmon... please, fuck me, please!" she whined finally, grinding her sleekly firm thighs together to fight the growing agony between her legs.

But Harmon Destian had other plans; plans he'd as carefully laid out as those he used to diagram with his teammates before the big football games. Only this time the stakes were even higher... Marion was coming along nicely, even better than he'd hoped. But there could be no doubt about their roles in this cozy little relationship... she had to know her place. And the sooner the better.

Marion watched nervously and impatiently as he swung his legs off the sofa and without haste pulled off his clothes, tossing them to join the rest on the nearby chair. She had to quickly draw her hand to her lips to stifle a gasp as he tugged down his undershorts and the entire huge length of his massively thick cock swung out into view. God, it was so large! And so big around, nothing like Mitchell's penis, and that was the only one she'd ever seen until now.

"Get down on your knees," he ordered, a changed tone to his voice now. "I want a blow job."

Marion's mind reeled at the sound of those horrible words. Surely, he can't mean it! Decent people just don't do things like that, do they? He can't be serious!

The aroused young widow wracked her mind for a way out, an excuse that would free her of this awful act he obviously expected of her. She couldn't! Never in her life had she done such a lewd thing! Mitchell would never have dreamed of asking it of her, or of even wanting such a dirty thing!

"Please... I... I can't do it. Please..."

But the big salesman was determined that this step in Marion's total subjugation and humiliation would not be skipped over. "Down on your knees... now! I mean it, damn it."

Brushing the nearly platinum blonde hair from her eyes, Marion obediently crawled from the sofa and settled at Harmon's feet, all the while thinking of a way out, trying desperately to find an answer... but there was none. She knew he meant it. He was the only man in her life now, and she needed him, in more ways than one, she knew that. His dangling cock, sagging from its own immense weight, was scarcely a foot away from her face as she struggled to hold back the hot lump in her throat, terrified and revulsed at the very thought of what he wanted... that big white penis in her mouth. His cum in her throat!

Harmon slid forward on the sofa, gauging carefully the distance from his limply hanging penis and her wetly trembling lips. He adjusted his hips just slightly so that the purplish swollen head brushed her lips ever so little.

"All right, baby... it's all yours! Do a good job and I'll make it up to you. Y'know what I mean?" and with that he gave her a rough pinch deep inside her naked thigh as she knelt below him, squeezing her soft tender flesh just an inch from the warmly moist lips of her still-hungry vagina.

Marion turned her face away from the enormous bulb-shaped head and closed her eyes, hoping somehow that it would go away, that she could open her eyes again and it would be gone.

Harmon spun her head back so that she was less than a scant inch from his half-erect, dangling prick.

"Listen, sweetie, I wouldn't want to get rough, okay?" His tone was calm, but threatening, and Marion knew better than to make him mad. Once or twice already she had seen his quick temper, and with his size and strength, she knew she'd be helpless against him.

Suddenly he grew tired of waiting and grabbed her ears with his powerful hands and twisted them upward, causing a pain so excruciating that she thought for a moment she would black out. She cried out for him to stop, but he ignored her pleas and pulled her face roughly up to his naked loins, shoving his hips forward so that the blunted end of his heavy cock pressed lewdly against her moistly glistening lips. Once more he twisted at her small ears, and she again screamed with pain.

"Now, Marion... open your mouth and suck it! Now! Suck it!"

Her mouth opened slightly with one more twist and her agonized lips slowly parted as Harmon gazed at the wetly open orifice in front of his loins, then very carefully forced the massively pulsating head into the warm moist cavern and let it lay there twitching slightly as it grew still harder and more erect. The young widow didn't move at all, lest the brushing of her quivering tongue on the enormous heated shaft of flesh should cause it to grow even larger.

"It's your choice, honey, but I will have a blow job... what'll it be?" His voice was suddenly convincingly cruel and menacing. "You'll do it nice-like... or I'll get nasty and you'll do it anyway!"

Marion knew it was hopeless to resist the strong young man; this was something that had to be done or she'd lose him... lose the one spark in her dreary life. And she couldn't stand the thought, no matter how disgusting this awful degrading act seemed. She fought back the churning ball of nausea growing thicker by the second in her knotted, fear-wrenched belly and closed her wetly walled lips over the throbbing fleshy staff and teased it reluctantly with her tongue, feeling his hands loosen their grip as she obediently complied with his harsh demands. His powerful hands still held her, though not as painfully, but she knew he could and probably would hurt her if he did not get his way. Harmon had it in him to be mean and brutal if he wanted to; she'd seen that plainly enough on the football field. If he could do such awful things to another strong husky man, think what he could do to a nakedly defenseless woman! She closed her eyes and tried to keep her mind only on this humiliating task that was demanded of her.

Harmon looked down at the long thick pole of flesh protruding from his hair-covered pelvis and throbbing ever so gently in her warm, half-opened wet mouth, at her pursed lips stretching tightly around the immense purplish head, and he felt a twinge of disappointment that she hadn't protested more. Hell, it would have done her a world of good to get kicked around a little at first, before sucking his cock. Every woman worth her salt needs a good kick in the ass once in a while, he thought, just to show her who's running the show.

But there wasn't time for such thoughts now, all he wanted was to enjoy this blow job, to watch her blonde head begin to reluctantly slide back and forth on the long, saliva-moistened length of his prick. Damn, he could see she'd never sucked cock before, and that made it feel even better! A fucking virgin!

He allowed his hands to slip from her head and down over the smooth, velvety skin of her naked shoulders, near-perfect and silky and unblemished, deliciously warm and soft to his caressing touch.

She obviously wasn't putting her heart into sucking his cock, so the big salesman brought his hands back up to the sides of her head, his open palms firmly placed on either side of her face. His grip tightened and he held her neatly positioned there against his heatedly pulsating prick as he began a rhythmic pumping motion with his lower body, his still-growing long penis jutting from his pelvis and rubbing between her moistly ovalled lips as the bulbous, lust-distended head poked against the back of her mouth. He could feel her small white teeth grating against the sensitive bottom side of his prick and the wetly rough surface of her tongue as it brushed along the full length of his thickly erect flesh, now so finely attuned to the tiniest subtle movement of her hotly licking tongue and lips that just the very touch sent shivers of savage animal desire surging into his loins.

"Yeah, baby... that's nice, real nice," he growled softly, beginning now to pump his thick, rigid penis deeper into her throat, her warm enveloping lips sliding along its full length with each forward plunge of his hips, and his fleshy stalk grew harder, longer, and thicker by the second, stretching like a rubber band until it reached enormous proportions.

He grinned to himself as the young widow did her best to take his cock full length in her mouth, something he knew she couldn't possibly do; as it was she swallowed, gagged, and choked each time he gave an extra forward flick of his loins. That part he especially enjoyed; nothing was better for a good broad than a big cock to ream out her tonsils once in a while.

He hoped he'd found a good cocksucker here, because there wasn't anything on earth he liked better than a really nice blow job, one where the broad knew her stuff, could relax her throat muscles like she could relax her asshole, and let his cock just slide right down that wetly smooth channel until the sides of her throat passage sucked him dry. Yeah, ol' Marion was doing all right for a beginner, she was going to turn out okay yet!

* * *

Though she tried desperately not to choke on the pulsing fleshy penis invading her throat, it was all so new to Marion, and it was so big! Each time his muscular abdomen slapped against her moistly pursed lips, the terrible punishing thing pushed lewdly against the back of her throat and at first, thinking she would surely be choked to death, she had fought it back, gasping and coughing with each of his vicious skewering thrusts. But gradually she had found a way to relax her throat muscles and now it wasn't as bad. He would pull it almost all the way out of her wetly clasping mouth, out over her widely ovalled lips until the lust-swollen head of his cock was between her teeth, and then he would begin that dreaded instroke, that journey deep into her tender throat. Somehow that hardened shaft managed to bend just enough when its throbbing head rammed against the back of her gullet to go down, lubricated with her hot saliva and the first slippery traces of his seminal fluid oozing fitfully from the tiny opening on the end of his prick. And every time it went down, she would have to swallow or choke, and soon she realized that the flexing of her own throat muscles was bringing on the inevitable torrent of hot cum even sooner and she viewed the horrible climax with mixed emotions. She wanted it over, to be rid of his hotly pulsating rod that gagged and choked her so painfully... but the thought of what was coming next, his ejaculated cum emptying down her throat like she was some common whore! Oh, God! It was just too horrible to even think about!

Marion tried not to swallow, but she choked immediately and he pulled it out for a moment, rubbing its still throbbing head over her moistly smeared lips, and she could taste the beginning of the end as small whitish drops of his fluid oozed from the slit end and onto her tongue. He took the blunted head between his clenched fingers and lewdly, obscenely, painted her lips with his warm, slightly saline discharge, leaving them glistening from his impatiently dribbling semen. She was totally beaten now, kneeling at his feet like a servant girl in the old South, brought in from the fields for her master's amusement.

Harmon felt the telltale twitch of his loins and could feel the dammed-up seething flood of hot semen restlessly surging behind the restraints of his aching balls as he slowly, rhythmically, pumped in and out of her ovalled lips, savoring every inch of his delicious instroke as it disappeared agonizingly down her velvety throat channel. He wanted to feel every screaming millimeter of his cum's long fast run from his lust-distended balls to his prick's throbbing, blood-filled head, and his hands squeezed in on her ears now, holding her absolutely motionless in his strong grip while he rammed his cock down, deeper and deeper down that tight, constrictive little throat.

Ah, here it comes, he thought, it's cumming... it's cumming! He could feel the hot sperm rushing out of his testicles and up the bottom of his prick, and he stopped dead still, his madly throbbing penis rammed all the way to his pubic hair down her hungry throat, her head perfectly still, as he waited breathlessly for the agonizing explosion in his loins...

"Aaaaaahhhhh!" he gasped sharply, emptying his lungs as at that same infinitesimal moment he emptied out his sperm-laden balls!

Marion sucked voraciously, harder and harder, for as strongly as she had fought it, loathed it, now... now - tasting his pungency for the first time - she wanted it. She wanted every precious drop of this brutal man's hot seething flood, and she sucked at the long quivering cock, swallowing and gulping its gushing waves of heated thick fluid like a starving animal. Her arms spontaneously wrapped around his hips as she knelt at his feet, pulling his powerful loins in hard against her face and lips until every hot swallow was safely down her eagerly working throat.

He looked down at the kneeling figure of the love-starved widow and smiled as she finally pulled her hungrily sucking mouth away from his pelvis, a thin sticky trail of semen dangling from her lips and chin like a spider's web. Yes sir, she was right where he wanted her, nothing stood in his way now, the business might as well be his.

But Harmon had other things on his mind... other business propositions that Marion Sykes would have choked on even worse than she had gagged on his cock. Oh Marion, love, if you only knew what big plans I've got, if you only knew!


CHAPTER TWO

Sandy Wyman pulled the comb through her shoulder-length jet-black hair, freshly curled from the electric curlers her parents had sent her as a back-to-school gift only a few weeks ago, just after the fall term when the university began. It was late, nearly ten o'clock, and ordinarily by this time she would have been well into Ancient Greek History, but not today. This morning, she and her roommate, Karen, weren't going to classes at all, for something urgent had come up that meant skipping class, even if their grades suffered.

She looked out the door of her bedroom and into the cluttered living room, still littered with bottles and overflowing ashtrays from last night's guests - Karen's guests, of course, as she was always inviting any and everybody over for beer and television, even on school nights. Sandy had spent most of the evening locked in her bedroom, futilely attempting to go over her class notes from the previous day and running out occasionally to ask, just one more time, if they couldn't please hold down the noise. Sometimes she regretted agreeing to share this off-campus apartment with Karen, and if she hadn't been such a good friend from way back through junior high school, Sandy would have certainly moved out by now. Karen was after a good time, studying only enough to stay in school, well aware that those monthly checks from home would keep coming as long as she wasn't academically suspended. And some semesters she cut it awfully thin, riding maybe half a point over the barest minimum, just staying in school by the skin of her teeth.

But the university wasn't that to Sandy Wyman, for she'd seen only too graphically the tragic effects of an inadequate education in her own parents. Dear and sweet as they were, and nobody could have wanted a better Mom and Dad, they were nearly illiterate, both having dropped out of school in the depression years to keep their own families alive. Her father had worked in the Virginia Appalachians in the coal mines until they closed down, like most of the others throughout Appalachia; then the Wymans, loaded in a pickup truck like Steinbeck characters, had migrated to the Piedmont section of North Carolina, where at least there were factory-hand jobs to be had as northern companies flocked south to exploit just such cheap available labor.

Mom and Dad had saved every penny for her college education, doing without most of the things a lot of folks would have called necessities so that their little girl would not suffer the same fate that circumstances had dealt them both. And Sandy would have rather died than destroy this hope they had held for her for so long.

Standing now before the mirror in her bedroom, Sandy could see the reflected image of the apartment's living room furniture behind her: the red corduroy sofa with the big cigarette burn from Lanny Winfield's drunken collapse, another of Karen's friends who Sandy could have easily done without; the faded blue rug that had been a gift from Karen's aunt in Atlanta; and that stereo - that damned stereo!

None of this mess would have happened if only she had listened to her own common sense and once, just once, had put her foot down to her roommate's idiotic notions. Oh, Karen had managed to get them both in some awful situations, like inviting people off the street to "crash" at their place, then finding out that she had managed to bring home a gang of drunks, or even worse, dope addicts! But this, this was the worst of all! All the long hours of studying, the work and the struggling... and now Sandy was within an inch herself of being kicked out of the university!

She couldn't blame Karen - she had known all along how absolutely scatter-brained the girl was, and always had been. No, she could only blame herself for being stupid enough to listen to her, to let a nut like Karen talk her into co-signing for $500 worth of stereo equipment and records! And with both of them just holding down part-time jobs! She should have had her head examined for listening to her roommate at all. "Sure," Karen had said, "we can make the payment easily. We won't even miss it, and think how great it'll be to have our own sound system. Think of all the parties we can have!"

And like the fool she was, Sandy had let her hare-brained friend convince her that $45 a month was nothing with the rent they were paying. But that was before Karen was fired from her job in the school library, and Sandy suddenly found herself trying to pay the rent, plus the stereo payment, and buy food and school supplies with the few dollars left - if she was lucky enough to have any left at all! And now they were behind with their payments; two months had passed without an extra cent coming in, and the manager of the store, Mr. Destian, had called personally to ask that they come in to discuss their overdue balance.

Karen tried not to even think about it, to just put it out of her mind for now at least, for even the slightest thought of what might happen tied her stomach in knots and dragged her to the brink of just burying her head on the pillow and sobbing. It could be the worst thing that could happen - the university had strict rules about students getting in trouble over money matters. And to make matters even worse, Sandy was an employee of the school! If the store decided to go to court, even over something as relatively minor as this balance owed, she'd lose her job in the records office - and with it, her one hope of finishing college! That money was all the income she had, and Mom and Dad couldn't send a penny, though she knew they'd try even if it meant selling their beat-up old car and walking to work.

The curvaceously attractive young brunette glanced again into the mirror, saw that her eyes were reddening once more. She thought of praying, then instantly hated herself for being like all the other church-goers she'd known, turning to the Almighty for help only when there was seemingly no other way out.

It was ten o'clock now, time to catch the bus down to Stereo Junction. Karen was ready and waiting for her in the hallway, not her usual talkative self this morning, finally aware that she'd made a bad mistake, that they were in a mess and maybe one she couldn't smile and wiggle her way out of this time.

"Don't look so glum," Karen said with a weak smile, "It's not the end of the world. You shouldn't worry so much; it'll all work out."

Sandy just looked at her friend and did not speak. It wasn't anger she felt, or even regret. Just pity. Pity for Karen, and if this terrible mess was as bad as she feared... pity for them both.


CHAPTER THREE

The bus ride lasted forever, stopping and starting in the morning traffic, endless waits as mothers and small children climbed on, black housemaids on their way to clean white folks' houses, a few college students returning from classes. Like most fair-sized Southern cities, people here never rode the bus if there was any other way of getting where they wanted to go. As in Southern California, the automobile was king, distances were measured in driving time, not in bus transfers or subway routes.

A pair of obvious college freshmen boarded the bus, taking seats opposite the two girls. Sandy watched their expressions, caught bits of their whispered conversation across the narrow aisle. Like always, they were aiming most of their adolescent enthusiasm at Karen's sensual charms. Men and boys seemed to always notice her first, no matter where they went or who they met. And it certainly wasn't due to any absence of good looks on Sandy's part. A man would have to be blind not to notice her milky-smooth complexion and luxuriantly rich, long black hair, or those ripely full curves she could never have hidden even under a dress two sizes too large. But with Karen it was different; it wasn't that she was prettier, or better built, it was that something extra - she had an aura about her that men seemed to sense like they'd suddenly homed in on a radar beacon. She could walk into a crowded tavern and turn every male head in the place her way. It wasn't something you could easily describe, but it was there, all right. That unmistakable aura of "availability" seemed to hover over her like a flashing red cloud, and men never had any difficulty in receiving her signals.

Sometimes Sandy envied Karen, wondered how it would be to have that sexual mystique she wore like a tight-fitting sheath. Wondered how it would be to have Karen's flame-red hair and a personality that matched. But she wouldn't have changed places for the world; compared to Karen's lurid past, her own had been a path strewn with roses.

Karen had only made it into the university through the sympathetic concern of the woman's dean. She must have taken one look at Karen's records from high school and rushed to type her letter of acceptance as all those repressed maternal instincts rushed to her heart. For Karen was indeed one of those unfortunate people only the cruelest on earth could fail to sympathize with. That was what made living with her so difficult; how could she turn her back on her oldest friend now, with all she'd managed to struggle through?

Karen had been fifteen when it happened, a cheerleader together with Sandy on their hometown high school team. Cute, freckle-faced, just beginning to fill out into the woman she was today, but still girlish and slim-hipped. A real nymphet, as some reporter was to say later. And it was just those pert little charms that had brought her the trouble that nearly ruined her life; and, as Sandy often thought, surely made her into the person she was now.

Darrell Ledbetter wasn't a teacher, exactly. Really, it was hard to describe just what his role was around Carter High. After it had happened, some of the newspaper accounts tried to make him look like some sort of pervert who hung around the grounds looking for innocent young girls to prey on, but those who had known him, and that included most of the student body, knew better. He'd been a teacher once, master of a one-room school with eleven grades to teach at once. And from what everyone said, he'd done an excellent job, too - but that was before the state school director, in a moment of enlightened twentieth-century progress, decreed that those teachers without college degrees would not be rehired in the coming fall unless they had twenty years or more to their credit in the system. Poor old Mr. Ledbetter had been three years short, and no one in the capital could see any reason to make an exception in his case, though his defense was well augmented with dozens of letters from people in his little mountain community to whom Darrell Ledbetter had been all they ever knew of education. So when that year's term ended, Ledbetter had sadly packed up the remnants and mementoes of seventeen years of teaching and moved on, too broken a man to even remain on in the community, even though at least a half-dozen jobs were offered him by thankful former students in the little Appalachian hamlet, some of them now businessmen and town leaders.

And finally, after seven years of odd-jobs and correspondence courses from the university, Darrell Ledbetter found himself within one term of finishing his college degree program. But the university rules demanded at least one term in residence for those who earned most of their credits by correspondence, and there seemed no way for Ledbetter, nearly fifty, to move to the state capital and enroll full-time. He had no friends that far from his mountain home and lacked the funds for a year of full-time study without working.

About that time, Mr. A. E. Melman, principal of Carter and one of the admissions board members at the university, heard of the mountain man's plight and offered him a job as "special teachers' assistant" at the high school. His meager salary came from a special fund the teachers chipped in on, supplemented by a small stipend from the Contingency Account, though Ledbetter himself never knew his weekly paychecks were anything less than normal salary.

And for nearly a year he was a regular fixture around the high school campus, filling in for teachers when they were late or delayed for morning classes, though his duties were mostly to supervise and maintain order rather than to teach. Most of the kids at Carter High were checked into class, escorted home when sick, or helped after class with problem studies by the kindly soft-spoken man from Appalachia. And to nearly everyone, he was more a friend than a teacher, someone they all trusted with their problems. An adult to turn to for advice of help, when going to the teachers or the principal was unthinkable.

But it was his escort duties that got him into trouble and ended his lifelong dream of becoming a real certified teacher, one with a genuine sheepskin over his desk and a classroom all his own. Principal Melman often sent students home with kindly Mr. Ledbetter, giving him the keys to his own car when it was necessary to drive a pupil home and impossible for the parents to come themselves. Usually it was someone taken ill at school, and Ledbetter would get the principal's car from the faculty lot, drive it around the long circular drive and meet the ailing student by the front entrance. Hardly a PTA meeting was adjourned without at least one grateful parent expressing his thanks for Mr. Ledbetter's help, and the procedure, though probably technically frowned upon by the school board, was as regular as the nine o'clock bell, and no one thought twice about the silver-haired man's company when the flu or a cold meant leaving school.

But that November 22 had changed all that - students wouldn't be released from Carter High School today for any reason unless a parent came for them. Aunts, uncles, maids were out; even parents were required now to show some proof of identity to claim their own child. And it was what happened with Karen and Darrell Ledbetter that afternoon that changed everything at Carter. And changed everything for Karen Elizabeth Stanton, high school sophomore and cheerleader.

* * *

Even now, nobody knows all of the details. At least, nobody but Karen Stanton, and that afternoon is one thing that Sandy knows never to mention, lest even the memory bring back another hysterical collapse like the one that hospitalized her for weeks after it was all over.

Karen's mother had found her 15-year-old daughter nearly insane with shock and fear, huddled in a corner of their garage like some frightened puppy that afternoon. Nothing had calmed her, nobody could coax even the vaguest hint of what had happened from her lips. The doctor at the emergency hospital where the Stantons had taken her verified the worst of their fears; his examination showed she had been raped. Karen refused to talk about it, even when she was seemingly over the worst of the anguish, and poor old Ledbetter was never brought to trial. The judge, perplexed over what to do with a rapist and no witness, sent him to the State Hospital for the Mentally Ill for observation, just to have him out of the way until something could be figured out. The hospital, either through professional skill or political pressure, ruled him insane and ordered him committed for an indefinite period. Thus Karen was spared the additional agony of a courtroom circus, though her life was never really the same from that moment on.

Freckle-faced Karen, darling of the football team, became red-headed, overheated Karen, still darling of the team, but suddenly for a different reason. It was no idle rumor that spread around Carter High that year about a certain wildly wanton sophomore cheerleader and fifteen members of the varsity team who had gang-banged her in the back seat of Freddie Silver's old Ford after the championship divisional playoff. By the next afternoon, everybody had heard of the redheaded young girl, completely naked on the back seat cushion, her long slender legs opened wide and pulled up against her firm, pink-tipped young breasts, lewdly urging them on, begging them to fuck her, and fuck her again and again until her battered and bruised little vagina was soaked and overflowing with the heavy white flood of all their warmly gushing sperm.

Predictably, it had been down hill from there, though Sandy would never have believed it possible for her girlfriend to sink any lower into the depths of confused depravity. Karen took to college boys, taboo in that college town, violating the unwritten rule that decent girls just had nothing to do with "college men" until they were enrolled there themselves! Only tramps went out with the older boys at the campus, and there was Karen disappearing after the high school games with sometimes as many as five or six fraternity types in a fast car, turning up maybe four hours later at the drive-in that was everybody's hangout, her hair rumpled, her dress wrinkled and stained, her male companions looking smug and very, very satisfied!

She was dropped from the cheerleading squad the next fall, without comment from the faculty adviser who directed the girls, though there was not a doubt in anyone's mind about the real cause for her dismissal. Karen's reputation around Carter by that time had become something of a well-worn joke, and practically none of the girls would even speak to her. The boys, following that time-honored custom of men everywhere of whispering sweet-nothing in their mistresses' ears by night and ignoring her if by chance encountering her by day, refused to acknowledge they even knew her in the corridors of Carter High, but were practically standing in line for her much-offered favors once protected by darkness and safely away from the campus.

Sandy was the only friend who stuck by her, sometimes out of pity, occasionally out of an unsatisfied desire to play at social work, her interest then and her college major now, but always out of genuine sincere friendship for Karen, confused and ravaged though she had become. It had become almost a challenge by their senior year at Carter, standing up to the threat of ostracization when none of the other girls would even share a locker with the fallen Karen in PE classes, developing a lasting bond of friendship that held her to the kooky redhead even now. This bond made it difficult, if not impossible, to move out and leave the girl alone. Sandy knew she was mothering her, but she wasn't ashamed of it. After all, there were far worse things in life.

Karen's carefree, live-for-today the-hell-with-tomorrow attitudes could be a bit disconcerting sometimes, though, particularly when Karen seemed to bounce from one man to the next, from one affair to another, without a trace of scars from the frequent, and often explosive, break-ups.

And Sandy, her one and only real love experience now just a shattered memory, still hated herself for crying softly sometimes in the night as she remembered those wonderful times with Chris. She hated him now, loathed his brutality and cowardice, but she still thought about him.

Chris Harper had been her steady date through most of their senior year at Carter, though they had never really considered themselves to be "going steady" or even serious about each other. Mostly it was just for the good times and companionship; it wasn't until they reached college that the relationship began to change. Suddenly, and without their even knowing, their innocent teenage infatuation, filled with hand-holding and adolescent necking, gave way to desperately passionate sessions in Chris's apartment. Sandy's resistance weakened further every time until finally there had come the inevitable loss of her virginity.

Being a virgin wasn't something she had particularly relished, not a life-creed to be carried around on a signboard, just something that somehow seemed right for her. The voluptuous coed had never really made any plans about keeping her virginity, or about losing it, for that matter. But when it happened, it just happened. It was something she deeply regretted now, but then it had seemed as natural as taking a deep breath.

They had been at Chris's parents' beach cottage, alone on a cold fall weekend, both of them fully aware of the consequences, of the inevitability of what was about to happen, but not concerned in the least. Sandy could see now what she had been blind to then, that Chris was a typical football jock, self-centered and eager to please just one person in life... himself! But on that fall weekend, the freshman Sandy Wyman would never have believed that about him if the message had come straight from heaven itself. To her eyes, Chris Harper was the most wonderful man on earth, and she knew without question that his professed love for her was deeper than the ocean they slept beside that night.

* * *

Chris had been the proper gentleman, all right, even putting their overnight bags in separate bedrooms when they arrived at the shuttered cottage. Sleeping together was simply something they had not discussed, and maybe nothing would have changed if it hadn't been for the champagne. Sandy knew she couldn't handle alcohol, even in as mild a form as bubbling champagne. But Chris had brought it as a surprise, and she didn't have the heart to refuse it, so she had a glass. And another! And still another! Before she realized it, they had hit on the outrageous notion of going swimming in the Atlantic surf. Nobody in his right mind would have dreamed of such a thing, but by then it was the champagne doing all the talking, and Sandy was simply following orders.

She'd gone into the icy waves wearing her shirt and panties, fairly well covered, though the water immediately turned the shirt fabric into a transparent sheerness that lovingly clung to her ripe curves as she ran along the beach in the autumn orange moonlight. She had noticed Chris's glowing eyes as they hungrily explored her body, but in her inebriated state, his ravenous stare only seemed wickedly exciting and pleasurable.

They'd lasted only a few minutes in the chill waters before Sandy had raced into the cottage alone, leaving Chris to jog to the nearby grocery for a pack of cigarettes. She laughed at him for his silliness, running along soaking wet in the middle of the night to buy cigarettes, but he had insisted. Alone in the cottage, she had quickly stripped off her wet clothes, hurrying to jump under a warm shower and ease the chill that seemed to seep through her very bones.

She could remember it all as though it were last night... shivering, naked in the bedroom, tiptoeing to the bathroom so as not to track the floor too badly with the water and sand from her bare feet. And Chris - not a half mile away at the grocery, but there, watching her, standing silhouetted in the doorway as he entered from the front porch.

Seeing her on the beach, more naked than dressed, was nothing like that moment. Every sensuous detail of her nakedness was lucidly clear, from her pink little nipples down to the softly sparse triangle of pubic hair that nestled below her virginal young belly.

Suddenly, Chris had become a man obsessed, a maniac driven only by his intense animal lust for her body. Nothing else had mattered to him that instant but ramming his long, painfully hard cock into that warm hair-lined pussy no man had ever touched, that damply glistening cleft he'd hungered for so long. She was a woman to him now, a desirable young woman to be taken, a virgin to satisfy the aching need he felt in his loins.

He reached for her, grabbing her roughly before she had time to react, before she could even cry out in surprise, a deep beast-like groan erupting from his throat as he pulled her roughly onto the nearest bed.

"Please, Chris, please... we can't, w-we can't!" she moaned piteously as he held her down with one lust-strengthened hand and ran the other greedily over the lush contours of her nakedly struggling body, kneading her ripe succulent breasts cruelly with hands now beyond his control, hands that acted as if they were possessed of a spirit beyond his own. Pinkish ridges of her softly delicate flesh protruded between his straining fingers as his head had dropped to the budding young nipples and chewed hungrily at their tips until he had felt the tenderly resilient flesh give way and the salty taste of blood seeping onto his lashing tongue.

"Oh, no, not like this. It can't be like this, Chris, darling!" she moaned, more in anguish than in anger. But her plea was unheeded.

In his madness, he still held her wildly straining body tightly to the bed, imprisoning her there by his heavy tensed chest that weighed upon her lithe slenderness like a giant crushing boulder. Her long dark hair began thrashing from side to side on the bed, her beautiful young face contorted with tortured anguish. Sandy pleaded until the sounds became nothing but incoherent mumbles of jumbled words.

And it was then that he had brutally fucked her the first time, robbed her of her virginity in a frenzy of jungle passion gone wild.

Ignoring the low moaning pleas, Chris rolled on top of the violently struggling coed, catching her body just as her long, slimly tapered legs had scissored out in one last desperate effort to escape his brutal assault. His hips had fallen down tightly against the mattress. The soft down of her thinly curling pubic hair brushed teasingly against his throbbing cock, inciting him to insane mumblings of crazed uncontrollable lust.

She felt the anguish of that night even now as she recalled it so clearly, like slow-motion frames from an old movie as it Hashed in her brain. His knees were spreading hers wide apart, and he was grinding his pelvis hard into her squirmingly defenseless crotch, completely naked and vulnerable then to his rapacious assault. She felt once again the spasmodic jerkings of her own fleshy inner thighs as he drove his hand between them. Chris was searching for that elusive treasure, that jewel-like never-before-penetrated orifice between her wildly trembling thighs. And then he found it! He jammed his heatedly throbbing cock up between her widespread legs, following the guide of his hand in the semi-darkness of the bedroom, and then shoved his blood-filled prick's head between her fleshy cuntal lips with a groan, he brutally thrust it all the way forward without hesitation into her quivering pussy, deflowering her like a kidnapped Sabine maiden prostrate before her barbarian captor. Sandy shrieked in agony and kicked her legs out wildly in the air in a futile attempt to escape the cruel impalement. Her frantic movement only worsened her plight, however, opening the depths of her unplowed furrow to his plundering cock as it hotly rammed deeper and deeper into her yielding virginal flesh. At last, his pelvis smacked down hard against hers, signaling the hoped-for end of her agony as his rigidly beating penis slid all the way up inside her trembling belly, the warm wet walls of her cunt wrapped tightly around the fleshy hardness like a moistly warm glove.

But the aroused football player hadn't stopped there. He didn't even give Sandy a chance to adjust to the sudden unexpected presence deep in her virginal young womb. He just began to fuck her, thrusting in and out of her like a mongrel dog mounting a bitch in heat, and with about that much concern for her enjoyment and happiness. He had only thought of one thing - to spew his hotly thick sperm deep inside of her tight little pussy where it belonged and where he had yearned to empty it for so long now. He vented his lust against her torturedly groaning body time after time, flooding her cringing belly again and again with the hot white liquid of over a year's frustrated waiting and hoping, until finally... his cum was all gone.

Even now Sandy couldn't remember how many times he fucked her, maybe six... seven times that night. She had been an unconscious being, floating in another world, her only escape from the horrifying reality of what had been happening to her.

* * *

Not since that night had she seen or heard from Chris. Someone told her that he had quit the university two days later and gone off to San Francisco. But recently she'd also heard that he was returning, coming back to the campus to finish his studies. She tried not to think of that, of what she would do or what she would feel if she ever saw him again. And somehow she just couldn't help feeling that he owed her something, that there ought to be some way, somewhere, of getting even with him for what he had done to her that fall night.

* * *

"Coming, Sandy? Or would you rather ride around town on the bus all day?" The daydreaming young coed was suddenly jarred back into the glaring present, away from the painful memories that had momentarily clouded her thoughts, and she was glad to have returned. Glad that is, until she glimpsed at the neon-lit facade of Stereo Junction, and remembered why she was here.

The two girls stepped down from the bus, ignored the raucous shrill whistles from a group of workmen remodeling the front of the office building next to their destination, and strode with a destiny that neither of them, in their wildest moments of fantasy, could have imagined...


CHAPTER FOUR

Stereo Junction's dapper manager glanced again at his watch for probably the tenth or twelfth time in the last half hour. He was nervous, and it bothered Harmon Destian to be unsettled; nervousness indicated apprehension, and that was damn close to fear. And fear wasn't an emotion common to Harmon's feelings. Never on the football field, lined up man-to-man against eleven big guys out to break his neck, had he felt the slightest trace of fear, just excitement at the prospect of facing a challenge most men would have cringed at.

But not today - this was something different, something he wasn't as sure of as football, a new adventure, one that could put him on Easy Street for the rest of his life. Or put him behind bars for so long he'd have no life left! He'd considered the odds often enough - and the stakes. And this time it had to be for real, no turning back this time, no changing plans like the times before. It was all... or nothing.

Harmon could not remember when he had come up with this idea; probably, it wasn't the sort of plan that was conceived all at once, but rather the result of several years of unconscious planning and observation. He did remember one day in particular, the time his old fraternity house at the university had contracted with a sharp operator from up north to bring some girls in for a party. Harmon recalled that night just as plainly as yesterday. Mr. Jackson from Washington, dressed like a clothing ad from a fancy men's magazine, stepping from his fully-equipped Cadillac Eldorado in front of the frat house, Harmon's eyes misted over as he remembered that car - a rich deep brown with natural leather interior, every option available from the Cadillac company, and even a goddamned telephone mounted on the dash.

Harmon hadn't made any plans at that night, but he made a silent pledge to himself, a promise to one day have the kind of money and connections to drive a car like that, to have the sort of bankroll that Mr. Jackson had bulging in his back pocket. And Stereo Junction was just the beginning. Hell, there was all sorts of money to be made there, all right, but legitimate money took time, especially with those auditors from the bank checking everything two and three times. No, he'd decided, what he needed was something faster, something that would bring in the kind of money he wanted in life. Not paltry hundreds, but many thousands of dollars... and not in twenty years either, but now! Right now, if he worked it right.

And this was it! So sure it even surprised him in its simplicity, and virtually foolproof! Of course, there had to be some element of risk; everything that's outside the law carries that chance, but with this plan, the danger was hardly worth thinking about. Harmon was sure he would have enough brains to get out of the operation before it was too late should the heat ever begin to close in. And Christ, even if it ran only a couple of years, he'd be fixed for life! Never a day's work again, just sitting in the sun on some tropical beach with a broad on each arm, sipping beer and counting his money!

The handsome sales manager looked up and then smiled broadly as he saw Sandy Wyman and Karen Stanton walking through the doors. They were the beginning, but they didn't know it. Here they were - the first two girls he'd carefully chosen for his plans. He tried to look them over carefully, yet not conspicuously, as they hesitantly entered the store, only a few minutes late for their appointment to discuss the overdue balance being carried on the Stereo Junction books. Yes, he thought, he had made a wise choice; these two should do the job nicely; both were good-looking and young enough to satisfy the demands of his somewhat selective "clients". Yes, they should work out quite well!

He watched from the corner of his eye as one of the clerks pointed him out and the brunette and the redhead nervously approached him, nonchalantly pausing to examine a new stereo quadrophonic console as they made their way down the aisle to where he awaited them.

"Uh, Mr. Destian?"

He turned and tried to look surprised, though he had been sweating out their arrival since before he opened the store this morning. "Yes, could I do something for you?" he smiled.

Karen spoke first, "Uh, we got a notice in the mail to come in and see you Mr. Destian. Something about our account, I think. It's a little overdue."

Harmon paused for a moment, obviously wracking his brain to remember. "Oh, yes, you're Miss Stanton and Miss Wyman. Won't you come into my office? We can have more privacy there." He kept his smile tacked across his face, and the girls seemed noticeably relieved that he didn't threaten them with immediate arrest. They followed close behind him as he led the way to a door marked "Manager-Private", glassed-in on one side for a complete view of the store. Sandy felt very conspicuous as she walked behind him, as if there were suddenly a big flashing sign on her back that marked her as a deadbeat.

"Now, what seems to be the difficulty, girls?" said Harmon, as he seated himself behind his walnut desk, "You are quite a bit in arrears, you know."

"Yes, Mr. Destian, but we've tried to catch it up, we really have!" Sandy blurted out loudly all the apprehension of coming here having suddenly come to a head. "We'll pay honest!"

Harmon smiled and glanced at Karen, who was visibly embarrassed by her girlfriend's unsophisticated outburst, "And what about you, Miss Stanton, do you feel you can catch up on your payments? After all, half the account is in your name."

Karen nodded, her eyes fixed on Harmon's. Something triggered a silent alarm in the back of her brain, something she couldn't quite put her finger on yet, one of those inbred warnings that come from knowing your way around.

"Well, I'm afraid I can only give you fifteen days to bring the account up to date, any later than that and I'll have to proceed with further action."

"Further action!" exclaimed Sandy, her eyes wide now with fear. "What does that mean? What kind of action!?"

"Now, now, let's not get excited," said Harmon, holding up his opened palms as if to hold her back. "I simply mean that after that date, your account will have to be referred to a collection agency. I don't have any choice; it's in my contract with the bank," he lied, positive in his own mind that neither of these college girls knew enough about the workings of retail credit to know the system didn't work that way.

"But we can't pay it that fast! Maybe a month, if we really scrape every extra cent together, but not in two weeks! We just can't get the money that fast!"

Karen seemed noticeably concerned now, too, though not nearly as frantic as her excitable friend. After all, the risk wasn't as great for her; she'd weathered bigger crises than this before and always managed to muddle through somehow. "Isn't there any other way, Mr. Destian?" she asked calmly. "Surely there must be some way we can work this out," she smiled, almost suggestively.

Harmon shuffled a few papers around on his desk, drawing on the pregnant pause that filled the room with tension. He had to think fast and time his delivery like a stage entertainer; obviously, only one of these girls was shook enough at the prospect of court action to play into his hands. But maybe, just maybe, the plan would work yet. "There might be a way out of this for both of you, after all," he said after a while, trying to look as though a sudden revelation had visited him.

"What is it? Anything!" said Sandy, wringing her perspiring palms nervously. She could see the terrible future clearly - suspended from school, fired from her job! Her parents, all their hopes and dreams, crushed... destroyed!

"You must understand that in a business like this, I have occasion to meet a lot of people. Newcomers and such, you know, transfer students just arriving at the university, incoming freshmen from other states, people like that. And well... occasionally, through associates of mine, I'm asked to help find dates for these new men on campus. Maybe just for a dinner date and a movie, sometimes for a frat party or something, you understand?"

Sandy looked puzzled, her face still mirroring her concern over the money and nothing else. But Karen was beginning to get the picture; that alarm in her head had been right after all, and it was starting to ring loud and clear.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Mr. Destian," said Sandy wearily, near the point of desperation.

"I think I do, Sandy," offered Karen with a knowing grin. "I think Mr. Destian and I understand each other perfectly."

Harmon looked a little perplexed, but at the same time, he was relieved. The wrong girl had taken the bait, but at least it was still anybody's ball game. "Well, you can see my position, girls. If I can help out a friend or a business associate, it's good for Stereo Junction. So if you can help me out, I should be able to find a way to erase this debt. That way, everyone wins. And besides, what's the harm in keeping a lonely young man company for a few hours? Who knows, you might meet just the right man for you."

"Now I'm getting the idea!" shrieked Sandy, incensed with anger. "You must be out of your mind! What do you think we are, a couple of tramps off the street?! I'd never agree to anything as vile and disgusting as that, never in a million years!" She turned to her friend, waiting for some moral support, but the redhead had conveniently glanced away. "Come on, Karen, let's get out of here!"

Sandy got up and started for the door, but Karen was still in her seat. "Well, are you coming or not?"

"Just a minute. I'll meet you outside."

"Oh, no you won't! I'm going back to the campus. You can come when you're good and ready. And you should be ashamed of yourself for remaining in the same room with this... this monster!" She slammed the office door behind her and hurried from the store, attracting quite a few curious stares from clerks and customers alike, but in a moment she was gone from sight.

Harmon watched her go and then turned back to the redheaded Karen. "I take it you're not as uptight about my suggestion as your Bible-thumper friend. Would you like to hear more?"

Karen didn't immediately reply, but looked him over slowly, boldly, then returned her gaze to his eyes. "I'd be interested, yeah. But not here... this just isn't the right time. And I'd better catch my friend and try to cool her down, or I might not have a place to live. What about your place? Later?"

"Uh, sure," replied Harmon, momentarily off guard from the girl's unexpected boldness, "2217 Lakeview Court. Tonight?"

"Okay, tonight, about nine." And without another word, Karen rose, picked up her leather bag and left.

The big sales manager sat for a long time after the girls were gone, ignoring the blinking lights on his telephone that indicated someone wanted him outside in the store. He couldn't have cared less as he watched the tiny lights flash on and off... those blinking bulbs, every single flash, were like dollar signs, dozens of them, hundreds! It was going to work, he could feel it! Before it had been just an idea, but now, now it was happening! Harmon Destian was finally going to get what he'd always deserved from life and had never gotten... he was going to be rich!


CHAPTER FIVE

Apartment Five had the best view in the three-story complex, thanks to an enormous picture window that heightened the romantic panorama of the city and the university by night, the immense sprawling campus finally giving way in the distance to the lights of the city's fast-growing skyline. Harmon had picked this apartment solely for that view, not because he particularly appreciated it, but because no girl he'd ever brought up here had ever failed to respond to the combination of soft mood music and the tranquilly romantic view.

Tonight, though, he didn't need the view, or even the mood music. Tonight was that certain lucky moment every man dreams of but seldom finds. Christ, what a woman, what a woman!

"Mmmmmmmmm... that's nice, honey, nice and deep," came the hoarse whisper through the darkness. Karen's skirt, blouse and underclothes were strewn haphazardly on the floor beside the couch, and her long trim legs were cocked back at a forty-five degree angle, flattened back hard against her chest, smashing the firmly swelling mounds of her young breasts beneath her own thighs.

Harmon Destian was half on his knees and half arched off the sofa, supported on his feet and palms, his long pulsatingly hard cock buried deep in the redheaded coed's belly, stretching apart the warm hungry lips of her vagina as he flexed the head of his huge fleshy length far up in her womb.

"Oh, yes, yes," she moaned. "All the stories are true... you football players are so huge! I've never felt one so big before."

He smiled a little to himself and tightened his loins, jerking the heatedly bulging head of his cock deep up inside the hot moistness of her cunt, bringing a grateful moan to her ovalled lips. He flexed the rigidly throbbing thickness again and the young girl gasped in pleasure as the enormous instrument probed the previously untried depths of her vaginal passage, far up inside her belly. Other shrill cries escaped her lips as the powerful ex-football player began a slow revolving motion with his pelvis and her hotly seeping cuntal cavern gradually became accustomed to this thick invading penis stretching her to the limit. He pushed his pelvis tight against her upturned, wetly-glistening pussy and ground his cock deeply into her, expanding the still-quivering walls until her moistly warm pussy fit his massive penis as though it had been custom-made for him.

Harmon reached past the nakedly writhing body of the redheaded girl and yanked at the cords of the draperies, pulling them further apart so that the room was bathed in a fine glow of moonlight that outlined each one of her warm, smoothly gleaming curves. The naked coed's soft translucent skin glowed like an ivory statue of a goddess and her softly fleshed breasts were two alabaster mounds, capped with little brown nipples, hard and throbbing, as Harmon thrust his long hard manhood deep into the hungrily clasping sheath up between her widespread legs. Karen's eyes were closed, her teeth tightly clenched, and her face distorted from the delicious torment of his rigidly thick organ in her eager young cunt.

Afraid to believe his eyes, the former football player ran his sweating palms over the girl's naked flesh, rubbing lewdly the moonshaped firm cheeks of her supple buttocks as his fingers delicately probed the hair-lined vaginal lips tightly clamped around his impaling cock. His fingertip flicked tentatively at her tightly puckered little anus as his hand eased between their sweat-soaked bodies; his finger pressed painfully against the opening, then suddenly popped through the tiny nether ring and wormed deeply up into the soft rubbery flesh inside her rectum. It moved around, expanding the small hole until the palm of his hand lay flattened against her yielding ass-cheeks, his whole middle finger sunk all the way up inside the forbidden little tunnel.

Harmon simply couldn't believe his luck. This was just too much for any man! Just an hour ago, he'd been sitting quietly, sipping his bourbon and water, cautiously laying out the details of his plan with this hot-blooded redhead... and now this! It was just too fantastic to be real! Damn, he'd had his share of girls, being a football star did have some really interesting fringe benefits, but never a hot little bitch like this one. Christ, she'd practically tom his pants off trying to get at his cock, licking it, nibbling at it as though it were food and she'd been starving for a week! And now, hell, she was hotter than a firecracker!

He began a hard rhythmic fucking motion in and out of Karen's moistly stretched pussy, thrusting forward mercilessly from his arched backstroke and battering her writhing body back hard against the sofa cushions, all the while continuing the relentless plundering of her anus with his rigid finger, slowly pistoning it in rhythm with the long, skewering thrusts of his lust-distended cock, bringing loud sobbing gasps from her half-opened lips in time with the agonizing tempo of his finger and his penis fucking her at once. He could feel the hardness of his cock through the thin fleshy membrane between her vaginal and anal channel as he rammed into her again and again; his finger, plundering her hopelessly stretched little asshole, rubbed along the whole throbbing length of his prick as it wetly slithered deep into her cunt, probing the fiery depths of her womb.

Karen was enjoying every delicious second of it - through a series of unusual circumstances, she'd been without a man for several weeks now, and nothing on earth could have felt better than this, the blood-boiling ecstasy of a long, hard male cock shoved deep into her craving young belly. That was the way she liked it, and the harder and bigger it was, the better. Being fucked by a man like this always brought out those suppressed masochistic urges she kept hidden in everyday life and lying flat on her back like this, absolutely naked and helpless, she could let those shameful desires and passions run rampant through her writhing body, could pull her knees back tight against her breasts and savor wondrously the deep, burrowing thrusts of a man's penis far up inside her moistly heated cuntal passage. Harmon was very well-hung, and she liked that most of all in a man, and now, nothing else mattered! Her hips were moving with a savage rhythm of their own, grinding up against his hairy loins with increasing speed as he stepped up the dual pace of his cock and finger ravaging both hot hungry holes down there between her quivering legs.

"Yes, yes. Goddamn it, yes! Fuck me, oh, shit, yes! Fuck me, darling!" she cried, squirming her body lewdly around beneath Harmon's pelvis, knocking the sofa cushions askew in her mindless passion.

The wanton young girl opened her eyes - she could see the clear unmistakable silhouette of a man hovering over her, but the face was a blank shadow. She raised her neck slightly, looking down between her upturned thighs and saw the long, glistening shaft of his hardened cock sliding easily in and out of her wildly quivering vagina. A cold chill raced along her spine as he thrust his hips forward, driving the thick gleaming pole up into the hot wetness of her tightly clasping tunnel. It didn't matter that his face was invisible; in fact, it almost seemed right... she needed a man, any man, his face was of no importance at all, what she needed - what she yearned for - was buried deliciously now up between her smooth bare thighs...

The fevered ecstasy soon reached a bone-shattering peak. "Oh, God, yes, don't stop! Fuck me like this forever, baby! Don't stop! Yes, oh yes, fuck me!" She grunted her words into the chill darkness, grinding her naked young ass up against him faster and faster, trying to keep up with the monstrous pole of hot flesh that was skewering her like a heavy hunk of meat, pounding its long way deeper and deeper up into her belly with a frantic, animal tempo.

It was impossible to keep up the heated pace any longer; she felt too goddamned good. Harmon could not hold back another second, and he took one lustful look at the abandonedly writhing young redhead pinned helplessly beneath the weight of his body and began fast, pushing thrusts that buried his powerfully pulsating prick right up to the pubic hairs on his pelvis with each and every deep, skewering lunge. Faster and faster he pounded, far up into her hot raging little belly, every muscle tensed, sweat dripping from his chest and thighs, faster, harder, deeper...

"No, no, please! Wait! Please, just a little more!" Karen cried, as she realized he was about to cum. But it was too late, for Harmon's lips parted and a long low groan of relief escaped as his sperm-swollen balls heatedly pumped spurt after spurt of white hot cum deep into her quivering young belly. The redheaded coed ground her frantically writhing loins up tightly against his pelvis in a futile attempt to halt the warm flow, but she was betrayed by her own eager cunt which hungrily milked his jerking cock, until every last drop of his viscous load was sloshing deep up inside her passion-distended womb.

Harmon pulled himself off the still squirming girl, his prick slithering wetly from her heated depths as the thickly bearded pink lips of her cunt reluctantly released their prize. A thin string of white stickiness hung momentarily from the tip of his limply dangling cock before it fell onto her smooth unblemished thigh.

Karen lay quietly, at least as quietly as she could considering the sexual turmoil churning in her loins, as Harmon stretched out beside her, his prick lying uselessly between his wide-spread thighs. Her full young breasts rose and fell rapidly as she gasped for breath to Fill her passion-emptied lungs and still the flames of undiluted passion raging uncontrollably in her cunt - a scorching inferno of unfulfilled animal desire that still painfully awaited relief. Without any conscious effort, as if in a dream and she was alone with no one to witness her shamefulness, her own hands began to ease slowly along the flat expanse of her belly, drawn as if by magic to the fluffy little "vee" between her hips. The fingertips of both hands brushed lightly over the puffy hot lips of her wetly hungry crevice, and a jolt of excitement shot through her torso as she began caressing the incredibly sensitive folds. One outstretched slender finger slipped inside the sperm soaked opening as if it had a mind of its own, and she could feel the softly moist walls close involuntarily around the invader, hungrily gasping at anything to fill the painful void.

She jerked her hand away quickly as she felt the sofa move ever so slightly; Harmon was kneeling at the other end, still completely naked, his long prick clutched between the clenched fingers of his left hand like some menacing weapon at the ready. Above her like that in the nearly blackened room, he towered over her like some medieval giant. She couldn't take her eyes off his rubbery penis, and he watched her, pleased with himself, as she kept her attention focused on the fleshy pole dangling from his wet, hair-covered loins. As she stared, mesmerized, it began to swell... only a little at first, in a tiny quivering crawl, then more, in pulsating movements of new growth as the momentum of desire grew stronger inside him.

"You don't have to play with yourself, honey. I've got all the cock you need right here," he grinned lewdly. "Now you turn over like a good little girl, and I'll show you what I mean."

Karen rolled over obediently on the couch, smearing the sticky trail of sperm from her thigh onto the sofa cushions. She lay quietly on her stomach, waiting for him to tell her what to do; she knew men liked to give the orders, and she didn't mind obeying, particularly if it meant another taste of that magnificent penis. Anyway, she liked it dog-fashion from behind sometimes; on her knees, the penetration seemed even deeper, and that was perfect as far as she was concerned.

"Now kneel," he commanded, grabbing impatiently at her hips and helping her to her knees. She rested, panting for a moment on all fours, her firmly rounded young buttocks shoved high and vulnerable in the air, waving temptingly before him like a flag before a maddened bull. In the dim light, he could see that the moistly pouting little lips of her pussy were puckered in invitation as she leaned forward, resting her head on the opposite arm of the sofa, her softly fleshed little ass jutting up at him completely unguarded and available to use as he wished. Karen's reddened eyes were glazed with the ravishment her body had endured, and her pulse quickened at the thrilling prospect of this man's steel-hard penis imbedded once again deeply inside the hungrily quivering walls of her pussy.

Suddenly, her dream-like anticipation was shattered as she felt the insistent probing of Harmon's now fully erect cock at her backside... not at the moist, eagerly waiting lips of her vagina, but at her anus!

Uncertain, she waved the trembling half-moons of her roundly fleshed buttocks back at him, feeling the blunt, swollen head of his penis pushing in against the tiny puckered hole of her rectum.

"Harmon, darling, not there, please," she said, not noticeably afraid or emotional, as she was certain her objection would be sufficient to dissuade him. "You're too big for me there, honey. You'd split me in half."

There was no answer from Harmon, but in the fleeting instant before the searing pain blanked her thoughts completely, she was certain she heard a muffled chuckle from somewhere behind her. His only other response was immediate and to the point... with a grunt, he shoved his powerful loins forward increasing the already intolerable pressure against the tightly clenched little rectum. Abruptly, without warning, the anal ring bent inward - his hotly throbbing thick pole invaded her tiny rear passage in one vicious lunge and almost a half of the long rigid length of his cock disappeared up into her hideously stretched anal mouth.

Karen attempted to crawl forward, yelling in surprise and agony, "Awwwwww, please! You're hurting me! It hurts, pull it out! Please, Harmon, please!"

"No, baby. I'm not going to take it out... but you've got the tightest asshole I've ever felt." He laughed lewdly and grabbed the fleshy rims of her hips like a couple of handles and forced her frantically thrashing buttocks back against him with all his strength, gasping in pain himself as his massive staff sank to the hilt in the warm anal passage. His balls swung forward and slapped against her dripping wet pussy, brushing ever so gently against the sensitive ragged lips just below the obscenely-stretched rim of her rectal lips, where his pole-thick penis was plundering her mercilessly.

He gripped her so tightly that the tortured girl was unable to jerk away from this incredible agony. It was as if the blunt end of a softball bat had been somehow rammed up between her open buttocks, shoved far up inside her belly until her stomach tightened with nausea from the excruciating pain.

"Oh, please, please, Harmon, pull it out! I can't take it any more... please, I'll do anything you ask. I'll suck your cock, do anything, please, but not this, I'm splitting apart, please!"

Harmon was deaf to her pleas; his eyes were wide with astonished disbelief as he watched his thick white cock slide back and forth, first back until just the swollen tip alone remained between the tightly stretched bands of her anus, then forward again, inch by throbbing inch, until all of his long, hard shaft was nestled deep inside her hotly constrictive passage. The feeling was incredible! It was as if a warm hand covered in soft brown velvet had grabbed his throbbing penis and was pulling it far up inside the helpless girl's belly.

Like a man possessed, he rammed his rock-hard rod of flesh home harder and harder, pushing aside the tender pink walls of her rectum as he shoved his massive cock as far as it could go up into her heatedly quivering belly. As if torn by demons, he plowed into her backside again and again, his whole body trembling with the fury of his unnatural lust.

But for Karen, something weird and wonderful was happening, a change was taking place that was transforming this barbarous act from excruciating pain into a wildly exciting delicious pleasure. Slowly, her pain and fear were being replaced with the overwhelming feeling of total and absolute subjugation, total ravishment at the hands of this near-stranger. The mental picture of her quivering young buttocks being so ruthlessly plundered incited spasms of forbidden pleasure throughout her nakedly writhing body. The unanswered hunger in her belly began to rage out of control again, and she started to undulate her buttocks in tiny teasing circles, squeezing with her strong rectal muscles at the impaling shaft imbedded so hotly inside her, milking eagerly at the long fleshy cock savagely boring into her from behind. She wanted to drain it dry, to fill her heretofore virginal little anal orifice with this man's seething load, to feel his hot sticky flood fill her rectum until cum ran in torrents down her sweat-soaked thighs. She had never been sodomized like this before; always, somehow, she had been able to talk her way out of it whenever one of her lovers had suggested it. Tonight, though, she regretted ever having had second thoughts in the past, for she was wallowing in the wild intensity of this delicious pleasure-pain, savoring every second of the delectable torment he was inflicting on her ravaged back passage. The writhing young girl tightly clenched her buttocks, intensifying the masochistic thrill that had taken control of her body. Nothing mattered now except this, nothing but this long hard pole of masculine flesh that was bringing her such incredibly wanton ecstasy. God, she wanted its hot load inside her! She wanted to feel its scalding warmth flooding her very intestines with an unending torrent of life-giving sperm until it sloshed in her belly and ran through every pore of her naked body in gushing rivers of wicked pleasure.

And an instant later, Karen's erotic fantasies were fulfilled as Harmon suddenly let out a loud grunt and his enormous cock rammed far, far up into her ravaged rectum. Almost immediately, she felt the awesome wave of her own orgasm, so long in coming, sweep over her, bringing an anguished moan to her lips.

"Aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh, God, yes! AAAWWWWWWWWWW!" she wailed loudly, her savage moans filling the darkened room and reverberating from the walls as, suddenly, his wildly jerking penis grew even larger and began spewing its white hot load deep up into her hungrily clasping back passage. His cum ricocheted heatedly around inside and spurted from the ravenously sucking hole to stream in a thick white river down the young redhead's firmly trembling thighs, soaking his own balls as they slammed tightly in the sopping wet crevice beneath her wide-stretched anus. The oozing liquid flowed warmly down over his leathery testicles as they continued to lightly brush against the glistening lips of her pussy. Violent shudders of excitement ran through her naked body as her orgasm built, crested and intensified.

"Aieeeeeee... I'm cumming," she shrieked. "Oh, God, fuck harder, I'm cumming."

Karen screwed her buttocks tightly back against the still spewing cock buried deep in her flooded rectum and abruptly, as a loud scream burst from between her clenched teeth, she felt her whole body explode with the pricks of a billion red-hot needles as his last punishing thrusts took her up, up, and over the brink into a chasm of complete ecstatic release. Her strength was suddenly gone, and she fell forward on the sofa as his long glistening cock slipped with a lewd wet sucking sound from the fist-like, grip of her tightly clinging rectal walls. She shivered once more as the cool air swirled around and up inside her unplugged, still dilated opening, chilling her very insides with the cold blast.

Harmon weakly collapsed to the floor beside the sofa with a gasping moan that seemed more of relief than of pain, amazed that his body had not come to pieces and exploded from the fury of the last few minutes. He lay very still beside her, his hand resting on her nakedly trembling thigh as she heaved and gasped for breath, and for a long while, they were silent.

* * *

"You gotta' admit, the idea's a helluva good one," said Harmon, dressed now except for his shoes and socks. Karen was in the kitchen and visible through the open doorway, wearing just her sheer blue bikini-style panties as she poured coffee into the electric percolator for the two of them. She looked totally refreshed and renewed, like an entirely new person, glowing with the special radiance that comes to a woman when she's been really and truly satisfied by a man. And satisfied she was, not remembering when she'd enjoyed a fuck so much since back in high school. Harmon was tugging on his socks, "Baby, we could knock down a fortune. An easy three or four thousand a month, and it would be a cinch. With my connections on the university campus, and your connections were the broads, we couldn't miss!"

Karen turned to face him, still standing in the kitchen, in full view of Harmon in her near-nakedness. Her firmly upthrust young breasts stood proudly like two ripe, juicy melons, without the need of any support as they soared high into the air, her nipples still hard and erect. "Well, it sounds okay to me, but..."

"But nothing, baby, I tell you it's a sure thing," he said excitedly, "as long as there are lonely kids around the school, horny for some action, we've got a ready market!"

"Yeah, but the law, Harmon, what if we get caught?"

"Honey, we won't get caught," he assured her, gesturing now with his hands as he always did when excited, "it's too simple. I've got the contacts to do all the legwork, and they're all guys I know I can trust, most of them from my old fraternity or guys on the football team. Hell, they need the money and it'll be their necks in the noose if they spill anything to the cops. I mean it, doll, we can't miss!"

Karen didn't reply, just stared at the coffee-maker, impatiently waiting for it to perk.

"And that friend of yours, the good-looking brunette who came in with you this morning, can you bring her in? She's a real dish, and it wouldn't hurt to have her with us. How about it?"

Karen turned, a big silly grin on her face. "Okay, lover, you've got a deal. And don't worry a bit about Sandy. I can handle her... she's as good as in!"


CHAPTER SIX

Sandy Wyman nervously fiddled with the buttons on her dress as she sat impatiently in the living room of her apartment, alone now that Karen had gone out to be with Harmon again. The third time this week she'd spent the night - or most of it - at his apartment. Not that Sandy objected; Karen's life was her own, and her morals nobody's business but hers. She had spent too many years defending Karen's crazy antics to turn on her now. Besides, she had enough on her mind to keep her busy.

First there was that card from Chris. Right out of the blue, after all this time, he decided to drop her a line. Why, the nerve of that guy! Just writing a cheery little message like it was only yesterday they'd parted, and as if they were still the best of friends. He said he was coming from San Francisco this week, she recalled, remembering every word of the short card quite easily. "I'll be sure to look you up," he wrote. Christ, what nerve! What made that ape think I'd even let him through the door after what he did?

But enough of worrying about something that might never happen, she told herself: There's plenty going on right now to keep me busy.

Damn, why do I let Karen talk me into these things? I should have known better, but I just don't seem to learn! First, the stereo, that was bad enough, but now this! I know the bill at Stereo Junction is pressing, and I know they can make a lot of trouble for both of us with the university, but how could I have let Karen talk me into going along with that Harmon Destian's crazy idea?

Karen had explained it all to her time and time again, assured her that everything was on the up and up, that despite appearances, what she was doing was no worse than simply acting as a public relations hostess for newcomers to the college community. Yes, the redhead had repeatedly said, simply look at it that way, you're just another hostess, a sort of unofficial greeter, and there's nothing wrong with what you're doing!

But still, Karen couldn't get it out of her head that it was wrong, that something just didn't sound right about Harmon's plans. She couldn't help feeling dirty somehow, though he and Karen had gone to great lengths to reassure her. Sandy kept telling herself that it must be all right, that it was the only way out of this money mess, and that once she'd cleared her share of the debt with Stereo Junction, she would never have to stoop to this sort of thing again.

Suddenly a fleeting thought ran through her mind, Oh God, what if my parents were to find out? They'd think I was some... some kind of whore!

* * *

It must have rung at least twice, that doorbell, before Sandy heard it. Really, she'd heard it the first time, but only in that secret inner ear within her mind; it was only on the third ring that her outer self perceived it, and she jumped to her feet to answer it.

She paused for a moment before turning the knob, checking her hair and clothing in the full-length mirror in the hallway. It was an involuntary action, born out of habit rather than desire, and she hated herself instantly for falling into that typical coed role, anxiously awaiting her escort and dolling herself up to satisfy him like some sort of trinket being presented to a vain emperor. Sandy opened the door, not really afraid any longer, just bored and angry with this whole silly affair.

"G-Good evening, I'm Milton Sawyer," spoke the shy, nearly invisible person waiting outside in the cold. "Are you Sandy Wyman?"

She felt a sigh of relief rush through her chest. Wow, this boy is even more nervous about this than I am! How silly it was to worry about going out with him... he's hardly more than a kid!

"Yes, Milton, I'm Sandy," she said, quickly taking in his expensive suit and nervously-perspiring palms in one quick unobtrusive glance. "Just a second, I'll get my coat."

She picked it up from the bed where she'd left it and brushed a slight wrinkle from her dress. Karen, maybe this once I misjudged you. A free meal and a few drinks, and I'll be out of this mess you got us into. Yeah, maybe for once you made the right move!


CHAPTER SEVEN

Dinner was even better than she could have hoped, marvelously prepared Chateaubriand for two at the city's finest steak house restaurant, an enormous red barn complete with haylofts and stables, but offering the best in grain-fed beef. It was a place Sandy had thought of visiting often enough, but it was well beyond her simple means, with prices rivaling the restaurants of Washington or New York. She had tried not to stuff herself, not to leap on the perfectly-cooked tenderloin when it was served, piping hot, accompanied by vegetables and steaming baked potatoes for the two of them. It had been some time since she and Karen had had the funds for a real meal at home, and most of their dinners lately had been simple, to say the least, usually without meat at all.

Between mouthfuls of the delicious steak, she was able to find out that Milton was a sophomore, a year older than herself, though she lied and told him she was twenty. He had transferred to the university from some small junior college in Maryland to study engineering, as this university had one of the best technical departments in the country. His parents, he had volunteered, were quite well off. Like most of the kids in college, he wasn't especially close to his parents. But from the car he was driving, a brand new Pontiac Bonneville, Sandy was able to guess that they must have been at least fairly close; cars like that didn't grow on trees.

Milton had talked little about himself, and when she tried once to gently nudge him about how he'd come to deal with Harmon, he flushed noticeably and quickly changed the subject. Sandy put it down as being sensitive about having to resort to paying someone to find him a date, though he seemed quite nice, actually, someone she would have probably gone out with anyway, had he asked her.

He was fairly short, though fairly well-built, and his closely-cut brown hair labeled him immediately as one of those enrolled in engineering rather than in liberal arts or humanities, as those boys always had longer hair, some down to their shoulders, and the division on the campus was quite apparent. The engineers never strayed to politics, but Sandy was fairly confident that his political beliefs lay somewhere fairly far right of center.

All in all, Milton had hardly proven to be the evil-intentioned sex maniac she had expected, and she hated herself for worrying so much. He had certainly conducted himself as a gentleman, so it did not seem improper to accept his invitation to watch television at his new apartment. Besides, it was in the new Sans Souci apartment complex, and she'd wanted to see what these luxury apartments were like for some time.

His place was beautiful - obviously decorator-furnished, and looked like something from one of the house magazines, everything perfectly blended for effect. It was not particularly large, one bedroom, but what it lacked in size it made up for in appearance.

Sandy accepted his offered scotch on ice reluctantly; scotch wasn't something she was used to drinking. But he insisted, saying she should learn to cultivate a taste for the finer things in life if she ever wanted to be really somebody. That made sense, so she agreed - but just to one.

It was strong - so strong, in fact, that Sandy wasn't sure she could swallow the fiery liquid. She tried not to make a face as she took a tentative sip; it tasted like hot wet charcoal to her, and it seared her throat passage all the way to her belly.

She was grateful for being so pleasantly full of excellent food - on an empty stomach, she might have just keeled over right away. The potent liquor took its time seeping into her system, and she sat down on the sofa by the door, resting her elbow on the carved wood end-table at her side. Milton poured himself another scotch - his third since they'd come to his apartment - and switched on the huge color television set and joined her on the sofa.

Sandy discovered, to her amazement, that he made her terribly nervous; something about him reminded her of her old boyfriend, Chris. Not the good things about Chris, but the worst - she couldn't put her finger on it, but there was definitely something about Milton that disturbed her, as silly as it might have seemed. She reached over him to put her drink on one of the cork coasters on the cocktail table and Milton, perhaps accidentally, placed one hand under her to assist her in the long reach and his fingers brushed lightly against the swell of her firm young breast.

The nervous young man felt the incredible warmth, the full firmness of her tit through the thin dress and bra. Pulling away quickly, he glimpsed the gently flaring lines of her voluptuously fleshed hips and buttocks through the clinging fabric of her dress. In his mind's eye he could see her naked. It seemed all the more exciting because of what Harmon had told his friend, the one who arranged this date; Sandy wasn't one of the regular girls, hardened and professional. She was new, innocent - who knows? - maybe even a virgin! He felt a growing urgency in his loins as his body responded to this ripely voluptuous body by his side. He seemed to be sweltering in the radiated heat of her sensually glowing aura.

As she sat back, he slipped his arm around behind her. "Okay?" he asked.

"Yes, sure," she replied. It seemed silly to be concerned about anything so harmless and innocent, especially after all the money he had spent on dinner. As long as things didn't get out of hand, she wasn't going to act like some childish schoolgirl. Milton's hand eased a little further along the edge of her bare arm, his fingertips just barely brushing the curve of her concealed breast.

Sandy felt her breathing quicken in her nervousness as she watched, but did not see, the images on the color television screen. His fingers seemed to slide over her nipples; she first thought it was only her imagination, but then she felt the tingling sensation of his touch again.

Milton was fast losing the ability to contain himself; all evening he'd been restrained and polite, the absolute epitome of chivalrous conduct. But now, with three scotches under his belt, he was finding his nerve and at the same time rapidly losing his self-control. All he could think of was that fantastically beautiful, smooth young body hidden under that dress.

That last scotch had given Milton a boost of courage he might have lacked otherwise, but at the same time, it nearly eliminated his capacity for subtlety and he moved his hand boldly over her softly firm breast, an agonizing pain of desire welling between his thighs.

"Milton, please," she protested, "don't spoil it all now. It's been a very nice evening." Her hand gently removed his from her tingling breasts.

The engineering student laughed to himself at her obvious performance; maybe this was the way she was paid to act, to play hard to get so her customers wouldn't think she was just in it for the money.

His arm shot around her, and with strength she couldn't resist, pinioned her tightly in his arms, forcing her face against his. His hot brutal mouth came down hard on her moistly soft lips, as he eased the weight of his body over hers and pushed her backwards onto the sofa.

The boy couldn't contain a nervous chuckle that came out of nowhere as he reached over her vainly struggling shoulders and unzipped her dress. There wasn't a thought in his brain at this moment except that of uncovering this delectable young body and giving her pleasure beyond her dreams, not to mention the pleasure she'd give him. Yes, he'd give her pleasure, all right, and maybe some pain, too... but before long, she'd be begging him to keep on fucking her, pleading for more of his manhood. He'd show this hot little bitch just how much of a man he was!

"No, stop, Milton, please!" She was crying so loudly that she was certain the neighbors would call the police, and she knew she couldn't face that. They'd ask a lot of questions, and when the truth came out, she'd be the one under arrest!

Her fingers futilely jabbed at his face and tore at his hair, as she lost all hope of escaping this terrible fate with futile words. He obviously planned to assault her, to rape her, and she was determined to do anything in her power to stop him. He managed to yank her dress down over her writhing shoulders and down, finally, to her trim young waist. He ruthlessly swept her flailing hands away and somehow freed the hooks of her brassiere, reaching far over her shoulder as she squirmed and kicked like a wildcat in a trap. Yanking the thin bra free, he tossed it to the floor, exposing the soft pear-shaped mounds of her milk-white breasts, bouncing and quivering with the fantastic contortions of her body. Holding her arms tightly pinned to her sides, he lowered his wetly parted lips to her pink, budding little nipple and brushed the warm satiny skin which felt like the peach-soft suppleness of a baby's delicate flesh. The terrified young girl screamed again, and her head arched back in pain as the boy's teeth sank into the billowy succulency of her breast. His hand shot up between her thighs before she could clench them shut and probed hungrily for her heated little cuntal furrow, still protected by the gauze-like sheerness of her little white bikini panties.

The heat of animal desire rushed like a speeding freight to his penis, and with a frantic, hurried jerk, he snatched off the girl's dress in one rough, furious movement. Sandy's long smoothly tapered legs flailed madly against him, though she seemed nearly spent now from her hopeless struggle.

Milton could actually hear the pulse of blood pounding in his head as he focused on the sheer, flimsy panties creasing on the soft white flesh of her hips, the same panties he'd seen so tantalizingly outlined beneath her dress just moments ago. They stretched tightly over her slightly raised pelvis, failing to conceal entirely the dark triangle of soft young pubic hair at the junction of her firm, milk-white thighs.

The aroused young man forced another kiss on her as he tried to tug down the panties with one hand, but found it was impossible because of the head-on clash between two overwhelming desires: Her desperate struggle to protect her innocence, and his maddened passion for her sensual young body! The gnawing agony in his loins had become a stabbing pain, and he could no longer withstand the torment. With a powerful jerk of his wrist, he simply ripped off the terrified girl's flimsy little panties, feverishly tearing them from her hips and revealing her whole softly firm nakedness lying there helpless before him.

His heart pounding like an air hammer, Milton moved his hand from her arm down to the jutting mound of his own pelvis and hurriedly unzipped his trousers. Without meaning to, he partially released his grip on her, and in that brief instant, Sandy jerked away from him, flinging her naked body nearly free of the sofa and out of his reach. But though she was fast, Milton in his lust for her was even faster, and with one fast sweep of his forearm, he caught her around the waist and slammed her back face-down onto the sofa beside him. His lust-glazed eyes saw the firmly rounded buttocks, their smooth halves grinding together like twin volley balls covered with nearly transparent skin as she squirmed and struggled savagely. The dark-haired coed twisted herself over in an instant, and as he carefully looked her nakedly writhing body over from top to bottom, he was suddenly aware of her really innocent girlishness. Though she was unquestionably a hotly sensual woman, she had that special air about her, a tempting, coquettish little girl appeal.

The young engineering student kicked free of his pants and jockey shorts, and once again Sandy was struggling for her life as she felt Milton's hotly throbbing cock pressing against the cringing flesh of her thighs. The perspiring boy could stand it no longer; his penis was a pulsating branding iron, filled with a raging-hot pain that demanded to be eased. He brutally forced her thighs wider apart with an effort strengthened by that overpowering animal desire burning in his loins. Sandy strained away from him, even put her hands to his now-bare pelvis in a vain attempt to shield her nakedly defenseless cunt from this wanton ravishment, but the feel of her fingers down there just an inch or so from his cock only heightened his insane passion. When he felt her fingertips brush accidentally over the blood-filled head of his anxiously throbbing cock, there suddenly was no way left of retaining control.

"Baby, oh, I've got to have you! I've got to! Don't fight me, I want some of your sweet little pussy, please!"

In another moment, he was pushing up hard, driving his rock-hard shaft up between the girl's helplessly quivering thighs. He felt the warm clasping lips of her cunt close involuntarily, but tightly, around the tip of his hardened penis, and then Sandy was screaming, even louder than before.

"Oh, God, no! Please! Don't... I beg you! Aaaagggh!" Her eyes were flooded with tears as she pleaded to be spared this horrible degradation. But with an impatient thrust, he shoved his lust-hardened cock into her defenselessly open cunt as the writhing young coed screamed hysterically in pain and terror at his brutal, unfeeling rape.

Milton felt a welcome surge of relief sweep from his loins as the tight warm walls of her moistly wet pussy closed around his hardened pole of flesh.

Her cunt was tight, but not painfully so, and it grew more lubricated with every lunge forward that sank his immense rod another inch deeper in her pink, wetly cringing passage. He held her securely by her upper arms as she sobbed and jerked her tortured young body in an effort to escape him and the thick, stretching pain he brought. Her trembling legs continued to flail out, though she was nearly exhausted and gasping for breath to fill her tired lungs, and her painfully stretched vagina was left wide open and unguarded. He thrust powerfully deep into her, throwing all his weight behind his ramming cudgel as it seared like a hot torch up into her belly, boring in deeper and deeper and deeper, while strangled hoarse cries escaped her dry, parched lips. The boy wetly kissed her tear-streaked cheeks as his loins ground brutally into hers, and she twisted her head wildly from side to side, tossing her thick, luxuriant hair behind her as she still fought doggedly with a waning strength.

Ignoring her feeble blows, he reached his hands down under her soft buttocks-cheeks, and cupping a warm, fleshy mound with each, he raised her violently struggling loins up against his grinding pelvis, thrusting with fresh vigor so that his straining groans nearly drowned out her tearful sobs. Sweat drained from the lust-crazed engineering student's forehead as he buried his swollen penis deeper and deeper into the naked young girl's ravaged pussy. It seemed to him that his whole body was numb, except for the long hard shaft of his penis, the whole of his very being concentrated into a single pulsing, devouring, devastating sensation that seemed to grow with every strong thrust and jerk of his loins. Her wet cuntal passage, now freely lubricated with her own juices, clamped warmly around his cock, her softness offering the perfect contrast to his own hard manhood.

Sandy continued to writhe helplessly like an impaled insect as he leaned up enough to caress the brownly erect, sweat-soaked tips of her hardened nipples. As he felt the tell-tale surging begin deep in her loins, she began to wail even louder, as if she knew the end was near. As if she knew that in only a few seconds this near-stranger would empty his sperm-bloated testicles deep into her helpless belly in an unstoppable torrent of hot sticky cum. Her face was contorted with the agonizing humiliation and degradation she could not escape.

The man could feel his aching rod grow longer and thicker until it seemed he would burst through her body and come out the other side. His whole body was drenched in sweat, and he panted, gasping and choking for breath, thrusting deeply and savagely. He could feel the scalding flood beginning to sweep along the full length of his wildly throbbing organ until it reached the hotly bursting head, buried deep in the warm clasping sheath of her tender young cuntal passage. Sandy screamed frantically one last time as he rammed her fearfully quivering thighs back against her ribs, forcing her ravished pussy mouth upward to give him the perfect angle, positioning her helpless body so that his exploding young cock was sunk deep in her cunt.

He closed his eyes... it was cumming, cumming... then like an eruption of hotly seething, white lava, the viscous flow began spurting from the tip of his massively jerking penis, making him cry out and give one last vicious thrust deep, far up in her tortured belly. Sandy cried out in horror as she felt the hotly pulsating liquid blasting from his body and heatedly flooding her cuntal caverns. "No... no... I'll get pregnant!" she sobbed, knowing it was too late - far too late - for her pleas were as useless as attempting to call back the ebbing tide.

Milton's long, hard staff continued to jerk spasmodically until every last drop of his hot, white cum was emptied deep up into the young girl's helplessly contracting belly, then fell forward on her warm, trembling body.

Crying quietly now, Sandy pulled away and half-crawled from the sofa. Gasping for breath, but sobbing so hard that it just wouldn't come, she pulled her clothes together and made her way, wobbling uneasily, to the bathroom. A sticky stream of male semen was already beginning to dry on the inside of her thighs; the white encrustation like a searing brand - a mark of her shame and dishonor.

Milton closed his eyes for a moment, not to sleep, just to recover his composure and, hopefully, to bring his pounding pulse back to a normal rhythm... when he opened them again, she was gone.


CHAPTER EIGHT

At least five hundred cars, trucks and buses had passed him as he waited at the lonely truck-stop diner in the midlands of Arkansas, sitting dejectedly on his dirty duffel bag, his thumb half-heartedly out, waiting, waiting endlessly for a lift to take him out of here and on his way back to North Carolina.

It had become a night-long wait, and his bored desperation had made him turn it into a game. Chris Harper strained his eyes for a fleeting glimpse of the occupants of every car that roared past the lights of the all-night service station next door.

Some were asleep, leaning against the glass as they whizzed past in the night; others seemed angry, frustrated that they couldn't drive faster, annoyed at the bother of actually having to move from place to place without someone to do it for them.

Chris thought of the university, of what it would be like to return there after so many months absence, of what classes and learning routines would be like after so long without any disciplines at all. He'd enjoyed his mini-sabbatical, adrift in the street culture of San Francisco and Berkeley, but it was time for something more meaningful. And time to go home.

He thought most of all of Sandy - sweet innocent Sandy and of how he had really blown it with her, destroyed whatever it was between them in his blind selfish passion, mindless then of her own thoughts and feelings. But that was before, before he'd found himself, and he wasn't the same now. Now he could see so clearly the mistakes he'd made then, could understand how his self-centered life had been his downfall. Now he could hope - and only hope - it wasn't too late to change it.

He didn't know if Sandy would even speak to him, much less consider trying to make it once more, but he was going to try. He had a place to stay with his old roommate, now a frat brother at the Sigma Delta house, and as soon as he was settled, he was going to call her, maybe just drop by. He knew it was a slim chance, a girl like Sandy was probably already snatched up by some understanding guy, maybe even married. But it was worth hoping, and it gave him something to think about in that cold Arkansas night.


CHAPTER NINE

Dawn's grayish light had already fanned into the blazing glare of mid-morning, outside the sidewalks were filled with students rushing to their classes and working folks hurrying to their jobs. But Sandy Wyman sat alone, her cheeks reddened as if she'd been beaten, but not from physical force, just the streaked trails of her tears. And even that relief was denied her now, as her tears had dried up. There had been no sleep for her last night; she'd done nothing but cry, cry until there could be no more weeping. Last night, after wandering the streets of the city and the university for who knows how long, she had expected to find Karen.

Near morning, she had lain hopefully waiting in her bed for her redheaded roommate to come home - her whole body heaving with the fury of her tears, but Karen did not come. Gradually, she had given up; it was obvious that the girl had spent the night with Harmon, with that horrible monster who was the cause of her grief.

She'd tried taking a bath, but the water stung too painfully against the bruised and battered lips of her ravaged young vagina, still smarting from Milton's maddened assault, so she simply crawled into bed and lay very still, as if somehow, if she could hide successfully in the darkness... that this whole nightmare would end, and she would wake up as if nothing had ever happened.

But she knew the awful truth - this had been no dream, this was for real. She had done it, prostituted herself like some common tramp out of the gutter. Laid herself down like a hunk of meat for some stranger to handle and eat. And now she could never be the same, never hold her head erect when she walked the campus, never look her decent friends in the eye. She imagined, in her anguish, that Milton had already spread the word around the campus, that perhaps he was sitting, at this very moment, in some all-night grill down town, bragging to some of his new friends of his easy conquest, talking of her most private secrets as though she was just some trollop he'd bought in a back alley. And wasn't she? She asked herself that nagging question again and again, and painfully, she knew the answer was always the same - a whore was a whore, no matter what! And she had become, in just one short night, nothing more than that.

Sandy tried to think of something, anything, to keep her mind off her agony, but nothing would work. Even thoughts of home, usually guaranteed to fend off the blues, were in vain. Just the very picture in her mind of her patiently trusting mother and father was enough to drive her back to hysterical sobbing. Oh, dear God, what have I done? What will happen to me now, how can I even go on living? I'm nothing but a tramp, a... whore!...

* * *

"Sandy. Where are you?"

The familiar voice was Karen's; she had been so engrossed in her troubles that she had failed to hear her roommate come in.

"I'm in the bedroom," she said solemnly, unable to shout through the hoarseness of her throat.

"Hey. Are you all right? What're you doing in bed at this hour? And with half your clothes on!" It wasn't until she saw the look in Karen's eyes that Sandy realized she was still partially dressed; numbly, like an automaton, she climbed from the bed and started undressing. "Sandy, what is it?"

"Nothing, nothing at all. I'm just tired, that's all."

"No, that's not all! What is it? Come on, tell me!" persisted Karen, grabbing her friend's shoulders. Sandy's eyes seemed glazed, and not just from lack of sleep.

"Nothing, I said. I just..." She stopped in mid-breath and saw her own wretchedness reflected in the girl's gaze. "Oh, Karen, Karen," she sobbed, unable to hold it back any longer. "It was awful. Awful!"

"There now, it can't be as bad as all that," said Karen reassuringly. "Just sit down and tell me all about it. Was it your date? The guy Harmon sent over?"

Sandy nodded, biting her lip as the tears started again to seep from the corners of her reddened eyes. And painfully, word by agonizing word, she told her girlfriend the whole story. And when she'd finished, they both were silent, as if acknowledging the fact that there was nothing really to say... or do. It was indeed over and done with, and nothing, no amount of tears or sorrow or retribution could change a minute of what had happened.

"Sandy..." Karen spoke, but the brunette seemed not to hear, her head hung limply as if her neck were broken. "Sandy, there's something I've got to tell you. Are you listening? Sandy!"

The attractive dark-haired girl only looked at her with vaguely unseeing eyes.

"Sandy! Listen to me! I know you had a rough time, but this is important... We've got another date to go on. Harmon set it all up for tonight. But you don't have to worry; it's a party, and we're both going."

Sandy's eyes widened as the realization of her friend's words reached her thoughts, reverberated in her brain. "No, no, I won't! I won't," she said, not loudly, but as she might have spoken any other words.

"We have to, Sandy. Just this one last time, and Harmon said he'd forget about the money. Do you hear me, Sandy? The money... we won't owe any money after tonight! You can stop worrying!"

Sandy's head was shaking from side to side as if connected to a motor that was jammed. "No, no, no, I can't do it! I won't!"

Karen turned from her girlfriend and searched through her big leather bag until she found the foil-wrapped packet she had stashed there for just this eventuality. Actually, it was Harmon's idea, but she had to agree it was a good one. "Sandy, here, this'll help you feel better."

Sandy looked up, saw that Karen was holding a lighted cigarette in her hand. But no, it wasn't a cigarette, at least not the kind you buy in the stores. She recognized it, all right, she'd long known of her friend's fondness for this mind-bending weed, but until now, she'd kept it to herself, never offering any to her. But now she held the lighted stick of marijuana in offering; she had to take it or refuse, she had to make up her mind.

"I don't want that," she said finally. "That's no answer."

"Don't be so prudish!" chided Karen, taking a deep puff herself. "Here, take a little. C'mon." She held the hand-rolled cigarette to Sandy's lips; first, the brunette turned away, but then, when it was obvious that Karen would persist, she reluctantly took one tiny puff. A tingle of warmth followed the sweet-smelling smoke down her throat and along the nerve channels of her ravaged body; just the one puff was enough to bring a wave of relaxation to her exhausted muscles. She felt her mind loosen as if obeying some secret command; another, deeper drag followed, then still another...

Soon, in minutes, or in hours, they had finished the "joint" and Karen had produced another from somewhere. Sandy didn't hesitate this time; the nerve-soothing drug seemed to answer a deep inner need, and the inbred instinct to resist it had been destroyed.

"There, much better, huh?" asked Karen.

Sandy nodded, "Yes, thanks. I feel a lot... a lot better now." Her words were beginning to blur together, and she hesitated at places that needed no pause.

"Now, about tonight. We have to do it, Sandy. It's a party some of the guys are having at the Sigma Delta house, and we have to go. It's all set and I've promised Harmon, okay?"

Sandy looked at her a moment, confused, then spoke, "If we have to do it, I suppose we have to, huh?" And then she giggled once, almost under her breath.

Karen looked at her friend, now really stoned and within minutes of passing out. "Yes, we have to. I'll go phone Harmon and tell him everything's set, and you get some sleep. You only have one class today, and you can just miss it for once." Before she had finished her sentence, Sandy had curled herself in a ball on the bed and was sound asleep, relaxed now for the first time since last night, for now at last her mind free of care and worry.

Karen closed the door behind her and used the hall phone to quietly dial Harmon's private number at the store. He picked it up on the first ring.

"Harmon... darling, it's me, Karen."

"Great, baby, how'd it go?"

"Just like you said. A few pulls on the grass and she was ready for anything. But Harmon..."

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Harmon, I feel like a heel for pulling this on my best friend. I mean, she was in pretty bad shape when I came in, and God only knows what tonight'll be like."

"Baby, stop worrying. You're doing her a favor. You said she needed money, right? Well, this is the way to get it for her. She'll thank you in the end, believe me."

Karen paused before speaking again. "Harmon, I hope you're right, baby, 'cause it won't be any picnic tonight. I know I can handle myself, but I'm not too sure about Sandy."

"You've got the rest of that little packet I gave you, haven't you?"

"Sure, it's all here."

There was a hearty male laugh from the receiver. "Then stop worrying, sweetheart. All the help your friend will need is right there in your hand!"


CHAPTER TEN

The atmosphere in the Sigma Delta house was electric; though many of the brothers were gone for the holiday weekend, three of those remaining, Dave Shields, Freddy Barlow, and Eddie Milford, all juniors in Mathematics Education, had managed to arrange an evening that none of the fortunate brothers remaining in the University Fraternity Row two-story brick and glass structure that housed the fraternity would soon forget. Dave was particularly nervous - after all, it was his friend, former college football star Harmon Destian, who had offered to line up the girls for this special occasion. He could only hope his buddy didn't let him down; Harmon had assured him these two girls were real swingers, not hardened pros, for none of the guys went for that, but definitely a couple of birds that, given just the right little boost, would give the Sigma Delta house an unforgettable night.

And anyway, this should indeed be an out of the ordinary night; the five days of initiation for Carlton Jasper and Redmond Jones were about to draw to an end. And Dave had planned a little treat for the fraternity's first two black brothers, as well as some first-class entertainment for him and the others!

* * *

It was half past nine, and Sandy was waiting quietly outside the Sigma Delta house in Karen's borrowed car for her friend to check and be sure everything was still on. She was at the point now where it really didn't matter one way or the other; the whole day behind her was one big blur, a confused mixture of sleeping, bathing and partaking of Karen's seemingly endless supply of marijuana cigarettes. She had totally lost track of how many they had smoked, but it was enough - enough to obliterate any traces of objection she might have had to coming here. After all, hadn't her good friend Karen assured her it was just a party? And what could happen at a party full of people? It couldn't be like last night, it just couldn't...

"Sandy, there's a little hitch," a voice was saying just off her right shoulder. She soon realized it was Karen and rolled her window all the way down to hear what she was saying.

But instead of finishing, Karen helped her from the car, eased her along the first few shaky steps until she regained her balance and led the way into the house. "What is it, Karen?" she finally asked, her head a little clearer now in the chill night air. "What is the little hitch?"

"It's our dates... they're black, Sandy. They're both Negro boys."

Sandy's mouth just sort of hung open for a minute as she mindlessly climbed the last of the concrete steps and stepped into the foyer where the blaring sounds of hard rock could be heard, along with the wafting smell of sweet-smelling hashish being burned in a pipe. "You didn't say anything about this, Karen! Did Harmon know? How could he do this without..."

Suddenly there was a tall, well-dressed black boy standing before her, looking very grim at first, but quickly smiling warmly. "Hello, I'm Carlton. You must be Sandy."

"Yes, uh... how do you do?" she managed weakly.

Before either of them could speak again, there was a loud booming bass-drum of a voice from inside. "Bring 'em on in, Carlton! The party's on in here!" They were quickly hustled inside to a room lit with red bulbs and occupied by six or eight couples, spread pretty evenly around the large dimly-illuminated room, and introduced to the other Negro, Redmond.

He held out his hand and Sandy shook it instinctively. Redmond was big, big enough to be a professional football player and not bad looking. For that matter, both of them could have been considered better than average looking, but it didn't make any difference. She wasn't really racially prejudiced, at least not like some of the girls she'd met on this southern campus, but she'd never really known any black boys, and the idea of being one's date, well, it was all terribly sudden. But she remembered one thing - Harmon's promise about forgetting the bill after tonight.

God, with all the worrying she had done over that, surely this could hardly be worth concerning herself over. Whatever happened would be worth it, wouldn't it? After tonight, she could forget about that money, forget about losing her job, maybe even her education. And for all that she'd do anything - well, almost anything.

"Let me have your coats," said Redmond, and he stood by quietly as the two girls took off their jackets, busily eyeing them both from head to toe. Sandy felt uncomfortably like a harem girl on the sale block, but she resigned herself to enduring it. There were whispered asides and giggled remarks from some of the other girls as soon as it spread around that they were dating blacks, but that didn't bother Sandy. The opinions of a bunch of empty-headed coeds didn't mean much to her, not nearly as much as this one chance to get out from under the crushing weight of the Stereo Junction debt.

She moved without thinking, following the others like a dumb steer in a moving herd; and when she was called upon to speak, she opened her mouth and somehow, the words came out. Another marijuana cigarette was making the rounds, a different kind this time, something one of the fraternity brothers brought back with him from southeast Asia. Sandy dutifully took her puff, and nearly choked at the incredible potency of this grass. Jesus, it was nothing like the other! This was so strong it made her dizzy as she held it in her lungs!

* * *

Whatever it was that happened next, in the next hour - or was it two hours? - is anybody's guess, for surely Sandy will never know. All she remembers now is that she took another drag from the tiny tightly-rolled cigarette with the pinpoint of glowing red ember on the end, and before she knew it, the room had changed. Gone were the other couples, gone were the soft red lamps, and in their place was an unused bedroom, strewn with soiled and cigarette-burned mattresses, lighted with three candles jammed into the necks of empty wine bottles.' Karen was there, and both the blacks, and three of the boys from the party, one she remembered, Dave. She looked around - there were no other girls, no couples sitting cozily, just her and Karen and five men.

I must be going nuts! What am I doing in this room with these people? And smoking grass, I've never done this before! Have I completely lost my mind!?

"Here, honey, try some," said a voice. It was Karen, holding what looked like a tiny silver spoon between her fingers, filled with some powdery grains.

"What is it?" she asked. "I don't need any more grass, if that's what it is."

Both the Negroes laughed, but the white boys seemed to miss the joke. "It ain't weed, baby... it's coke!" roared Redmond.

"Coke? Like coca-cola?" asked Sandy innocently, bringing a fresh round of laughs and chuckles to the others.

"No, not that kind. Coke like cocaine."

"Oh, no," she said emphatically, "That's hard stuff. I'm not taking any of that!"

Karen squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "Sandy, it's not hard stuff. In fact, it's not addictive at all. It'll make you feel better, clear your head. It's really good for making you think clearly. Go ahead, just sniff it up your nose, and hold it, and don't sneeze, if you can help it."

Karen held the miniature spoon under her nostril and Sandy, finally, breathed it up into her sinuses. But she wasn't prepared for what she experienced. Suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch, everything intensified, all her thoughts seemed ordered and well-contained. And this room, this whole scene, seemed somehow under control, as if nothing could happen to her because she knew what was going on and was in control of every second. It was weird, wonderfully weird, the feeling of exhilaration and power and confidence that that one little sniff of the powder had given her.

But there was something else, something Karen and the others knew about, but Sandy had yet to learn. Another of the interesting side effects of cocaine, an effect the boys and Karen were quite looking forward to... cocaine is one of nature's best aphrodisiacs! With a little coke... man, the feelings! Redmond's people had a saying, "A little coke makes any cock bigger!" and it was true, nothing heightened the feelings and the sensations of fucking better! What Sandy didn't realize was that she had just inhaled enough into her brain to turn her into a helpless, uncontrolled sex-machine!

Karen was wearing a yellow jumper that perfectly set off the beautiful curves of her long trim thighs and calves, and she had risen to her feet, a little unsteadily at first from the exhilarating high of the cocaine, and was weaving slowly and gently to the sound of recorded music from the room's stereo speakers. Like every room in the frat house, it was wired into the downstairs stereo system.

Sandy felt lightheaded, as if she would float off the edge of her chair if she didn't hold on. She became fascinated with the colors of an enormous neon sign visible at the crest of a hill outside the fraternity house window - reds, blues, then a brilliant explosion of yellows and oranges as the gasoline company's sign rotated.

Swaying smoothly from side to side, Karen reached for the zipper that ran down the front of her garment. She pulled slowly on the zipper of the jumper, one arm swaying drunkenly above her head, beginning ever-so-slowly to remove her clothes before these strangers. Sandy, like the two blacks, was entranced, mesmerized by what her roommate was about to do. The anticipation charged the atmosphere like a million volts of electric current. The redhead's hips moved slowly at first, then began to bump and grind with a growing lustful intensity as the two men and Sandy looked on excitedly. She tossed her long red hair from side to side, letting it drape freely and loosely over her shoulders as she moved with the beat of the music.

She eased the zipper down to her navel, exposing enough of her ample cleavage to start the two Negroes breathing quickly and heavily. Her ripely full young breasts seemed to be straining to escape the concealment of her dress, peeking from beneath the fabric in two soft, inviting mounds of warm flesh. One last tug, and they were free, swaying heavily as she gently rocked from side to side. Carlton and Redmond's eyes were wide with excited disbelief as they watched this incredibly lascivious display, this beautiful young white girl stripping before their eyes, stripping herself to her ripe, full nakedness. But best of all, she was going to be theirs to fuck. Redmond and Carlton knew why this had been planned - they'd have to be fools not to know this whole thing was set up to be nothing more than the Roman coliseum spectacles, Nubian savages hauled to Rome to amuse the white fun seekers. This was what was expected of them, and they knew it, but it didn't matter - not with a couple of women like this! Neither of them had ever had a white girl before, and to start with one like this redhead, Christ, it was too good to be true! Who cared if those white guys were watching, they'd give 'em a show, all right, show those bastards what a real man could do with a hot-blooded young girl like this. Yes sir, they'd give 'em a show they'd never forget!

Redmond could feel his cock already aching painfully inside his pants, straining, yearning to be set free and allowed to penetrate this lovely creature. He tried to imagine what her pussy would be like... wet and soft, pink and warm and vulnerable... just waiting for his long, hard, big black cock to fill her like she'd never been filled before.

Karen lifted one softly firm breast with her hand, just enough to feel its full voluptuousness as it stood taut, high and quivering from the touch of her own fingers flowing caressingly over the warmly supple flesh. Her gleaming tits seemed to be swirling a dance of their own, shivering with the African beat of the music as it wafted from the wall-mounted speakers, inviting the two men forward as the others watched. Their eyes were agog, as Karen urged Carlton and Redmond to take her throbbing nipples in their hotly wet mouths, seemingly begging them to answer the gnawing, churning animal need in her white belly - a need as old as the South, the need for a black man!

Balancing on one foot, she tugged the jumper down to her ankles and yanked it of, then removed the other side, leaving nothing but her little pink panties between the eyes of the men and her own delicious nakedness. Sandy was staring, watching with eyes that saw but did not believe.

Karen's tiny pants were not nearly enough to completely cover her magnificently formed buttocks, as she spun slowly around before them, they could all see where the long flowing curve of her smoothly unblemished back soared inward, then swept out again and joined the arching fleshy swell of her buttocks. Half of each firm, ivory-white cheek was nakedly revealed beneath the taut sheerness of her panties. Above, in the deep arch of her back, her two dimples peered back at them like warm, black eyes at the tip of her spine.

Except for the sound of the music, there wasn't a noise to be heard in the stuffy, closed room as the drugged coed ground her ripely flaring hips back and forth at her hypnotized audience, daring anyone to yank the thin filmy panties down from her slender young waist, over the tenderly sensitive flesh of her smooth inner thighs. Her fingers hooked in the tight band of her panties, and she began to slowly, teasingly, roll them over the full ripe swell of her buttocks, her back demurely turned like a professional stripper might, and her ass poked out in jaunty invitation toward the perspiring audience.

They gasped aloud, all of them, at their first real glimpse of the gorgeous young white girl's warmly naked ass, the glow of light from the candles reflecting as if in a mirror on the smoothly gleaming flesh of her full rounded mounds. Slowly, she rolled the panties down over the firmly jutting cheeks of her ass, stretching them as they tightened in the crevice beneath the smooth curve of her bottom-cheeks, where the soft swell joined her milky thighs. She leaned forward, pushing out her exposed buttocks at the two blacks, rotating it lustily in an unmistakably lewd sexual invitation. She reveled in what she was doing - offering herself bodily to two blacks, right here on a North Carolina college campus! The wicked forbidden thrill of it all wildly excited her, and she hungered for their huge black pricks inside her, rammed hard and deep between her white milky thighs.

She reached back with her bare arms and spread the twin mounds apart, obscenely displaying the tightly puckered little brown ring of her anus, the taut nether ring opening and closing as she tensed the strong muscles in her ass. Over the whispered, excited mumblings of the three white boys, Redmond and Carlton's heavy breathing drowned out all other sounds in the small candle-lit room. Nothing was in their minds now except the hotly beckoning little hole of the young redhead's anus, puckered open like a small taut mouth just waiting for the long stiff lengths of their aching black cocks to bore deep up into her insides, to tunnel into her back passage like miners searching for gold.

Karen's nakedly gleaming ass rotated on its own axis as she alternately relaxed and tightened the muscles of her buttocks. She turned back around, facing the two Negroes, seemingly mindless of her friend, Sandy, sitting stupefied to her right and stoned almost out of her mind from the powerful combination of marijuana and cocaine, watching everything with glazed, unbelieving eyes. With both hands, Karen lifted the bountiful fullness of her breasts, offering them wordlessly to the two black students. Carlton and Redmond were the only men standing now; the white boys had retreated to the aide of the bedroom where they sat on a couple of mattresses, their hands in their laps to conceal their aching hard-ons as they watched this nakedly luscious white girl offer herself like a slave to the fraternity's new black brothers.

Now Karen tantalizingly eased her opened palms down over the trim curve of her waist, over the smooth expanse of flesh warmly gleaming in the candle light. With her thumbs, she caught the elastic band of her panties, now covering only the soft thicket of pubic hair at the bottom of her pelvis, and the moistly heated pink lips beneath. Her thighs parted as she lowered the filmy nylon garment like a flat of unconditional surrender, nakedly exposing the delicate "V" at the top of her supple thighs in the flickering candlelight that bathed the room. She continued to teasingly peel the tight-fitting panties down over her hips and along her bare legs; then she stepped out of them and tossed them at Carlton's feet.

In the closed room, the air was suddenly charged as if by a lightning bolt; she was now completely naked before the fraternity brothers, black and white, and her best friend. There was nothing left to the imagination. Sandy was shocked back to reality; she tried to look away, to hide her face from this wanton spectacle, as if it was wrong for her to be here, to see her friend degrade herself this way. But the incredible combination of potent marijuana and high-grade cocaine once again asserted its grip on her - she couldn't look away! She was drawn back to the salacious scene as if by some ancient black magic ritual, to the wickedly exciting vision of her old friend stripped naked like this in front of these boys, two of them blacks!

Karen opened her legs, giving the closest ones, Carlton and Redmond, an unobstructed view of her nakedly unguarded cuntal passage and her puckered pussy-lips moistly glistening with her own love-juices. There was a sudden rustling as the three white boys shuffled positions on the mattresses, maneuvering for a better glimpse of this redheaded coed's naked vagina.

"Bet you'd like some of that, huh, Redmond?" shouted one hootingly.

"You better believe it, brother," came his fast, unruffled reply. He knew what they were thinking... but to hell with all of them! He was going to get some white pussy tonight, and it suited him all the better that these whites were going to bear witness. This way, nobody would ever doubt his story, and besides, he liked the idea of white southern boys watching as one of their own women got it - got it good - from one of the down-home "nigras" they worried so much about.

Karen leaned backwards, scraping her long luxuriant hair to the floor as she swept her head wildly from side to side. The tempo of the music from the speakers had suddenly picked up and with it, Karen's savagely wanton dance grew more and more frantic. Flickering colors radiated from the melting candles to cast a thousand different multi-colored shadows along the warmly gleaming curves and valleys of her ripe young body.

With a teasing, tormenting grin, she brought her hands from behind and slipped them down over her body into the warm crevice between her parted thighs. Her fingers spread the pink ragged lips of her pussy as she leaned back, opening the moistly hot passage to the hungry stares of all five college boys.

Redmond could take it no longer - not that he was any more excited than his friend, it was just simply that Carlton was too far gone from the cocaine and grass to respond as quickly and he stood mesmerized by the girl's writhing passion. But not Redmond! In what seemed less than an instant, he moved in close to the nakedly dancing redhead, unbuttoning his trousers and dropping them to the floor as he stepped clear of them.

Baby, oh, baby, this here cock o 'mine is goin' so deep inside your sweet littl' white ass you'll think it's comin' out the top o 'your head!

"Come here, honey, I've got some good, good meat for you!" And as he spoke, he pulled off his undershorts and yanked them down his muscular black legs. His enormous cock sprang up like a frightened black stallion, hard and gleaming along its full thick length. Karen looked only at his huge, frightened penis, sticking out from his rock-hard loins like a flag staff from the side of a building. And suddenly, she was afraid... It'll kill me! I've never seen a cock so huge! I could never take that thing up inside me!

He circled her like a lion stalking his prey, sizing up her youthfully firm nakedness, exploring with his hungry eyes every inch, every crevice of her deliciously ripe young body. She trembled as she anticipated what was next, fearful literally for her life as she stared in horrified fascination at the awesome symbol of his savage manhood rising from his sweating pelvis like some vicious weapon. His jet black muscles rippled as he moved; obviously he was in excellent shape, probably a weight lifter or a physical fitness nut. She couldn't see an ounce of flab anywhere on his body, his legs and arms were thick and full, with hard curves tracing the lines of his well-developed muscles. He had the look of power about him, and Karen suddenly had the terrifying feeling that she was going to be raped by an animal, that his awesome sexual energy was somehow linked to that untapped forbidding well of animal passion, the jungle itself.

He could feel his balls aching with desire as he looked over the naked young white girl; he'd never seen one except in the magazines. Not unless you count that widow woman that used to expose herself out behind the tobacco barns when he and his brothers were harvesting the summer's bright-leaf tobacco, and she could hardly count for much, seeing as how she was so ugly and she never let him touch her, just look. This one was different, and he suspected - correctly - that she'd never sampled a black man either.

Oh, honey, I'm gonna' fuck you, sweet white bitch, like you've never been fucked before! I'm gonna' make you wish you'd been born black like me so's you could have had black men all your life!

He wished he could see into the other girl's mind, know what she must be thinking as she watched her girlfriend about to get fucked by a black. Shit, she was probably soaked between her legs just from looking at his cock! Wait 'til she sees it goin' in nice like, all wet and hard, sunk to the hilt in this white little honey's tail!

"Down on your knees, bitch! I got something I want first... you take care o'me, and I'll do the same for you, understand?"

She obeyed without daring to question his order, dropping instantly down on all fours at the huge naked black man's feet, her bare thighs and soft white buttocks quivering helplessly as she cringed before him awaiting his command.

Karen was a shivering mass of sensitized nerve endings as she knelt before him, worked into a sexual frenzy by the fury of her own lascivious striptease, and now, uncontrollably, she found herself reaching for the incredibly long shaft of his glistening black cock; reverently, in awe, her fingers sought to touch it, to do homage to its majestic hugeness as it stood out, now fully hard and erect, like the boom of a sailing ship from his wiry loins. A miniscule seeping of his seminal fluid poised on the blood-engorged tip of the enormous organ.

He kneeled over her straddling her and wallowing in the reckless thrill of watching this redheaded, sex-crazy white bitch writhing so voluptuously between his legs, her fingers gently, lovingly, wrapped around the wrist-thick shaft of his ebony prick and he inched forward, on his knees now, pushing her back onto the mattress until the soft white flesh of her body was flattened beneath him. He eased forward, lasciviously rubbing his naked crotch along the trim supple length of her helplessly writhing form, his black thighs and heavy dark balls insinuating themselves over the smooth whiteness of her translucent young skin; his buttocks pressed down onto the smoothly rounded nakedness of the white girl's bare breasts and he could feel the tiny pink tips of her hard little nipples rubbing against his ass as she squirmed in nervous anticipation beneath him. He caught a glimpse of the three white boys out of the corner of his vision, all of them hunched excitedly on their mattress perches, their mouths hanging open laxly as they watched this wanton spectacle unfolding before their amazed eyes. Fuck, he'd give 'em a show, all right!

"Open those pretty littl' lips, white baby, 'cause daddy wants a littl' cocksuckin'."

Karen knew better than to resist now; the black's feelings, a lifetime of desire and frustrations, were all reflected in his coal-black eyes; and suddenly, she knew this was to be a long, long night.

With one hand, he lifted her head, gripping the thick red hair and pulling her up toward his long impatiently throbbing penis. With the other, he forced the lengthy black shaft of his cock downward so that it brushed the girl's wetly ovalled lips. He circled her mouth with the swollen dark head, brushing a thin smear of the white seminal discharge from the end of it over her lips and chin.

"Open your mouth... nice and wide!" Karen reluctantly obeyed, though the humiliation of lewdly lying like this before Sandy and those white boys was far worse than she could have ever imagined. Her mind was still reeling from the drugs, and she fantasized that she was a Southern planter's young wife, caught as hostage in a revolt of the blacks that had consumed the South in its intensity. And now, as an example to the others, she was to be wantonly, inhumanly, ravished and abused... an outlet for hundreds of years of denials and frustrated repression.

Redmond slipped the thick hard head of his penis along her saliva-slickened tongue and deep into her mouth, filling it completely as it snaked slowly down her throat. She clamped her lips around the huge black cock, and then began licking wildly at the swollen, throbbing tip, swirling her tongue over the sensitive little hole at the end. In her state of drug-induced fantasizing, she felt she was still the plantation owner's wife and that she had to do her best to please him, for she shuddered to think what those enormous black hands of his could do to her frail body if she displeased him, refused him any favors, no matter how degrading or disgusting.

Karen couldn't see Sandy or Carlton, but she knew they would be watching as she hungrily licked and swirled her quivering pink tongue along the full coal-black length of his glistening cock imbedded in her mouth. It reflected the flickering candlelight as it slithered wetly from her wide-stretched, ovalled lips; every thrust forward of his kinky-haired pelvis shoved the huge throbbing penis further down her bruised throat passage. The redheaded coed explored every pore of the enormous prick, holding her fingers securely around its thick hairy base as she felt the shivers of heatedly savage desire rippling through his belly as her tongue licked the distended tip clean of its sticky seminal emissions. His deep painful thrusts became faster as she swirled her tongue tantalizingly around the throbbing head.

Redmond couldn't take his eyes off the squirming, totally naked body of the young white girl lying so helplessly beneath him. He could feel her warmly taut breasts heaving under him, her nipples poking into the brown flesh of his ass as she breathed heavily in her wanton excitement. Her pale-pink lips were stretched grotesquely as she strained to fit the thick bulk of his black prick buried to the hilt in her throat, gagging as she tried vainly to accommodate the hot fleshy cudgel that threatened to completely choke her any second. Her red hair fanned out behind her like a fiery halo; she was a white love goddess... and she was his to do with her as he pleased.

His balls rubbing over her chin, he stepped up the pace of his assault on her white face, grinding his pelvis against her until her nose was rubbing into the hairs above his cock.

It was nearly impossible to swallow, for the thick pulsing head of his prick filled her tender throat passage to capacity. She waited until there was a chance, when his penis was nearly out of her mouth on his long, smooth back-thrust, and gulped down a quick swallow of saliva and seminal juices that were almost choking her. It felt better now, her throat muscles relaxed, and the thick shaft bored even deeper into her hotly working mouth. His hands were on her hips, unnecessary now for she offered him no resistance, and he was grinning broadly as he watched the naked young white girl beneath his sperm-laden testicles gulping and swallowing to take in every inch of his hardened black cock. He suddenly stepped up the pace faster still, ramming the full throbbing length far down her throat, as his sweaty pelvis pushed hard against her face. He didn't look around, but he knew his white fraternity brothers must be going out of their minds watching a show like this! Shit, they hadn't seen nothing yet!

Karen caught a glimpse of Carlton, standing just a few feet away. He had his cock out! It was as big as Redmond's, and he looked as though he aimed to use it!

Redmond suddenly jerked back as if in terrific pain, his head thrown back, his mouth open as if about to scream, sinking his thick black cock as far as it would go down the bruised throat of the girl, his sperm-bloated balls dangling over her chin, his loins pressed tight against her face. She couldn't breathe - the huge shaft blocked her throat and his wetly matted hair covered her nostrils like a damp cloth... and then it happened. The final act in this lascivious tableau, the ultimate humiliation. The enormous black hose tightly imbedded in her throat suddenly began to spurt its white hot load deep down into her belly, spurt after spurt of the thick fluid cascaded down her bruised throat passage in wet, oozing waves, soothing the battered and ravaged flesh as it drained salaciously down into her white heaving belly. Karen's cheeks hollowed to contain the flooding sperm, and a trickle escaped her lips to stream down her cheek to the floor below as she lay on her back, naked and helpless, her legs apart so that the others, Carlton and the voyeuristic white boys, could see far up between her thighs. They saw her naked hair-lined slit, as well as the wanton sight of her milking this black man's balls dry. And they all found their arousal growing hotter with each passing second.

"That's it, bitch, every drop! Suck it clean, honey!" Redmond crooned, a satisfied grin on his darkly handsome face.

The pungent liquid filled her mouth one last time, and she quickly gulped it down to join the rest filling her excitedly quivering belly. He gave one last shuddering gasp, smashing his loins down against her face, smearing the hotly oozing flow around her nose and cheeks, as the huge black organ began to soften, turning rubbery between her tightly compressed lips. He pulled it free with a lewd wet sucking sound, and it trailed a stream of white sticky sperm over her naked young breasts and along her belly as he rocked back onto his heels. Karen could breathe again freely for the first time since he had crouched over her, and her bulging breasts rose and fell as she gasped hungrily to fill her aching lungs.

For the first time since he'd started fucking her, there was whispered conversation again in the dimly-lit room from the white boys huddled together a few feet away, their eyes on Sandy as she sat on the edge of a mattress, her eyes glazed over from the marijuana.

"Well, how about you, Carlton? Think you can match that?" hooted one of the boys. Carlton was standing to the side of the room, his hand already on his waiting, eagerly throbbing cock. Sandy turned instinctively and gasped as she saw it, only vaguely aware that it was meant for her. She had fleeting thoughts of running, of escaping, but for the moment, she was paralyzed, unable even to stand unaided.

"Hey, honey," came the menacing voice. Sandy turned and faced its source. "Looks like you and me got some workin' out, huh, baby?"

The befuddled young girl felt hands touch her shoulders, then her arms, and suddenly there seemed to be strong male hands all over her, pushing her, prodding her to her feet.

The jeering white voices came through the darkness again, over the raucous blare of the stereo speakers, "C'mon, girl, here's your chance for some dark meat! Let's see what you can do!"


CHAPTER ELEVEN

Chris Harper climbed down from the huge cross-country Mack rig that had brought him from Morristown, Tennessee, to this spot, opposite a service station on U.S. 1, on a ridge overlooking the campus, midway between the college classroom and dormitory buildings and the courtyard of Fraternity Row. In the distance, down the sweeping meadow, he could see the Sigma Delta house, all lit up inside and out, and he guessed there must be a party going on.

"Thanks a lot for the ride, it's been good talking to you," he told the black driver who'd picked him up when everyone else passed him by, probably because of his longish hair or his jeans and boots.

"It was nothing, besides you helped keep me awake. Don't do to fall asleep with one of these rigs between your legs." Chris spotted the choice of words instantly, noted that it fit perfectly with the way the driver kept referring to his truck as "her", talking about her as if she were a kept woman, instead of just a big hunk of steel and rubber.

"That where you live, boy?" the middle-aged Negro asked, pointing to the starkly contemporary houses of the fraternity section.

"No, just visiting," he replied, and lugged his duffel bag from behind the right seat and down onto the ground. "Well, see you!" And in another few seconds, the big tractor trailer load of produce was gone, destined for tomorrow's housewife in some suburban shopping center east of here.

He slowly made the long walk downhill, somewhat reluctant to even go in, now that it was obvious a party was in progress. But he was too tired to worry about manners now, and besides, his old buddy, Al, wouldn't care if he came in covered in mud.

The door was open when he arrived and, hesitantly, he made his way in. No one in the crowded main room seemed to notice as he squeezed through the couples and stags, looking vainly for Al.

"Hey, is Al Hicks here?" he asked a clean-cut type with a blue blazer.

"Not right now," he answered, half-shouting over the roar of the stereo. "He went to get some ice. Be back in about a half hour."

Chris thanked him and started for the stairs; he knew his way around from having spent summer school term here one year when the brothers' rooms were rented out for the summer. He dragged his heavily-laden duffel bag up the curving stairs - well, if they haven't changed everything around, the empty bedroom is the last one on the hall. I can just wait there, out of everybody's way, until Al gets back. Nothing worse than a party crasher!


CHAPTER TWELVE

Like a razor-sharp saber, the black man's ugly words cut through the drugged stupor surrounding Sandy, and she leapt to her feet, backing away from the man cautiously, intent only on making it to the closed door a dozen feet away.

One of the white boys jumped and blocked the door. He grinned down at her. "Oh, no you don't, bitch... you ain't running out on us now. We've got a lot of fun coming yet! We didn't pay all that hard-earned money to just sit back and watch!" She tried to struggle away, but his hand lashed out at her shoulder; she snapped away just as his finger snared the thin fabric of her blouse, ripping it down the middle as if it were paper. The garment fell away in two tattered halves, exposing the white firmness of her breasts softly resting in the sheer cups of her brassiere.

"No, please... you can't do this! I... I..."

Both of the white fraternity boy's powerful arms suddenly snaked around her, and with one quick, deft move, he unhooked the three tiny hooks of her bra and yanked it away, throwing it halfway across the room in his frantic excitement. His eyes widened as he stared at the frightened brunette's large, ripe breasts, two bulging, pink-tipped mounds just waiting for his lips. But this terrified young girl wasn't for him now, she belonged to Carlton. Almost reluctantly, he shoved her toward the black man.

"Come here!" he growled, and this time Sandy knew there was no choice but to obey. Carlton was watching eagerly, and he, too, had moved between her and the door, still stark naked, his arms folded across his huge chest. Sandy took one half-step toward the door, trying to avoid him, and abruptly found herself in the frenzied, sex-hungry Negro's clutches. His fleshy lips locked hungrily on hers as his rough tongue darted between her teeth, hotly exploring the moist recesses of her mouth. Sandy tried to pull away, to break away from his grip, but he held her tightly with his big hands clamped like vises on her forearms, pinching the muscles so painfully she could feel the circulation slowing in her hands and wrists. His warmly wet lips left her mouth and traced a line along the curve of her upturned chin, passionately, but gently, nibbling at the soft flesh of her neck before moving down along the smooth expanse of her chest. The horrified girl's blood ran cold as Carlton's voraciously sucking lips neared the fleshy swell of her agitated breasts; another instant, and they were hotly clamped around the pinkish-brown halos of her nipples. Now his glistening tongue swirled around the hardening tips of her quivering breasts, and his sharp teeth nipped playfully at the swelling little nipples. Sandy knew Karen was watching; she knew her best friend was there somewhere in the darkness, watching as she was dragged into the lowest, vilest depths of humiliation and depravity. She was once again, the second time in less than 24 hours, being treated as a common street-walking whore, just a plaything for these vicious men, theirs to fondle, to caress.

Theirs to empty their seething loads of sperm into, just a lust-receptacle for these... these savages!

Sandy was only slightly aware of being maneuvered toward the empty mattress. Now that she was standing, the effects of the drugs seemed doubled; the room was spinning around a central axis, whirling in a dizzying kaleidoscope heightened by the flickering lights from the candles. Her calves backed against the edge of the mattress, and with a gentle push from Carlton, she fell flat on her back across the mattress, her mini-skirt bunching up around her slender young waist. Her eyes had been closed; now she opened them wide in fear as she lost her balance and tumbled across the mattress. Carlton seemed to tower over her like a black giant - his chest a solid, ebony wall of muscle now that he had removed his shirt.

"Please don't... please," she whimpered futilely. She, herself, knew that her pleas and tears would be unheeded; nothing would stop this muscular black now!

He leaned forward and nibbled the soft, tender flesh of her inner thigh, teasing the skin playfully with sharp, nipping little bites all along the smooth nakedness of her upper leg. He started just above her dimpled knee and worked his way up, up, up... stopping just short of the flimsy panties at the intersection of her firm, fearfully trembling thighs. Sandy tried to fight it - she wouldn't give this vicious animal the satisfaction of seeing her respond to his lustful advances.

In spite of her good intentions, the teenaged coed had downed too much of that potent cocaine to remain totally in control of her body; she began a low moaning as his hot lips nibbled steadily in one spot, just inches away from the almost unguarded furrow of her young vagina. His hands slid easily over her tautly smooth belly and fastened on the jutting mounds of her softly ripe breasts, squeezing with his open palms and pinching the tender flesh in ridges between his black fingers which contrasted so sharply with the ivory whiteness of her skin.

Her mind was reeling! She'd been prepared for the worst... for agonizing pain, for abject humiliation and sordid degradation... but not this! His warm, sensuous seduction was something she had not anticipated! If only he weren't so gentle, so skilled in his passionate probings of her naked body.

Of their own volition, Sandy's long legs slowly parted, opening up the moistly pink slit of her pussy, easily visible to the black man's view beneath the gauze-like material of her panties. It looked like a long-sought treasure to him, a sparkling, gleaming ruby concealed up there between her wide spread thighs. "Go on, Carlton," one of the boys yelled, "she's asking you to eat a little pussy." His remark was greeted with laughter, but the big black man gave no indication of hearing it. His hotly voracious mouth moved closer to the forbidden orifice, his nose brushing the fragrant curls teasing out from under the legbands of her panties. By now, everyone, including Sandy; knew his goal: the moistly throbbing vagina between her snow white thighs.

She jerked harshly as she felt another pair of hands touch her face and shoulders. Her eyes popped open... it was Karen!

"Here, Sandy, take another deep drag. It'll make you think you're floating in space." She held a brightly glowing "joint" between her fingers, and before the young brunette could answer, touched the cigarette to her lips. Sandy inhaled, filling her lungs quickly with a slow, powerful puff, then held it until her chest seemed about to explode. Karen then disappeared again in the darkness around the mattress, but that didn't matter. Sandy could feel the potent psychedelic rush straight to her brain; the flashing colors from outside suddenly intensified, burning brightly now like tinted floodlights shining into the smokey room. Her hands had been by her side, but now they were moving of their own accord to the flat plane of her belly, just above the gentle mound of her pelvis with its thinly covered dark pubic triangle.

Abruptly, she pulled the crotchband of her panties aside and began rubbing herself tenderly, caressingly, her fevered young body responding now fully to the black man's carnal probings up between her long slender legs.

With surprising gentleness, Carlton removed her hands and then brushed apart the softly curling pubic hair guarding her exposed vagina, using his thumbs to gently spread the heatedly moistened layers of pink flesh. He leaned forward at the same moment and without warning, clamped his hungry lips on the pearl-like bud of her exposed clitoris. Sandy's whole body suddenly arched off the bed, shattered with a searing blast of animal desire that shot out her loins as his lips made their first hot contact with her naked pussy. Again, he began the tormenting nibbling on her clitoris, while, at the same time, his hands were hungrily ripping the soft flimsy crotchband of her panties all the way open.

"Oooooohhhhh... please... pppllleeeaaassseee..." But her cry was more one of anguished helplessness than of pain or terror and, then as the panties were ripped in half, being held together only by the elastic band around her waist, her hips began a wanton response of their own, grinding upward against his black face as he chewed ravenously on her fevered cunt-lips. She was trapped in a swirling, soaring surging of drug-heightened rapture and wanton delight.

Carlton's quivering red tongue snaked into the hotly moist tunnel between her widespread legs, worming in between the soft warm walls, then licking along the wet furrow of her pussy until his tongue brushed electrically again over her throbbing clitoris. One black hand was far up between the shadowy cleft of her whitely trembling buttocks, his fingers caressing the tight puckered ring of her anus, the other hand was climbing back up to the damp slit of her cunt and on reaching it, he slid his outstretched middle finger easily into the warm shelter of her violently trembling pussy, pushing back the tight fleshy walls that clamped so hotly around it.

"Christ, she's got the tightest little pussy I've ever seen! Man, it's gonna be something else pumping my meat into this hot little bitch!"

He pulled his finger momentarily from her moistly heated tunnel and spread even wider the pink, ragged lips of her pussy, burying his face tighter against her writhing loins as his lips clenched tight around the pulsing nipple of her clitoris. His tongue licked hungrily at her wetly perfumed slit, lapping at her seeping vaginal juices and swallowing them down eagerly, relishing the young feminine taste of her naked pussy against his lips.

Sandy opened her mouth as if to cry out, but only a mournful hoarse moan escaped her lips, a soulful whine from deep in her throat. She was frantically writhing now, quivering at his agonizing touch, slamming the whole of her lust-heated loins up against the black man's face, grinding her fleshy pink pussy-lips hard against his full ebony lips.

Oh God, what's happening to me? Have I turned into some kind of animal? Why can't I make this all go away? Oh my God, I can't stop myself... I can't stop myself!

Her empty vagina was now aching with wild, insatiable passion... aching for the one thing that would answer the torturing, lustful desires that were raging hotly in her naked belly... aching for the hard, soothing thrust of his black penis... aching for his long, throbbing manhood buried deep in her burning passage. She had to have it, she had to have its rock-hard firmness rammed up inside her - there was no other way to quell this frenzied riot of savage passion burning out of control in her quivering belly.

Carlton's two strong hands suddenly gripped her ankles as he pulled away from her, and with one twist, he rolled her over on her belly, "Get up on your knees." he commanded, and Sandy obeyed. She would have done anything right now to curb this frenzied spasm of wanton desire rippling incessantly from her vagina. The mattress was soft, and it gave with her weight, but she gripped the edges securely, bracing herself as she rose to her hands and knees, her naked white buttocks waving like a red flag before the black man on his knees behind her.

Karen had dropped into the chair by the door, her naked legs draped over the arm, and Redmond was preparing to fuck her hungry waiting cuntal orifice, holding his huge throbbing cock with both hands as he guided it toward the waiting white girl's wet, juicy sheath. Neither of them would have taken their eyes off the action on the other mattress for a second, but they had withstood the torturing flames of naked lust as long as they could stand it... there was no holding back. Karen cried out in pain and exaltation as the long, glistening black shaft eased between the pink flanges of her pussy, stretching the tender lips wide as the blood-filled head sank out of sight in the young redhead's vagina.

Fighting the pain, Karen gripped the arm of the chair and shoved her ravenous pussy back up against the Negro's hard lunge; she gasped aloud as his thick cock sank six inches in her hotly stretched cunt pushing aside the soft moist walls like rippling waves as he burrowed deep into her open vaginal sheath. He paused, then thrust the rest of his enormous fleshy rod up all the way to the hilt in her belly, ramming it into her so hard that tears filled her eyes from the painful agony. He'd waited too long already for this - there was no time now for building up slowly, he pumped into her like a stallion mounting a mare in heat, thrusting it hard and fast in a frantic rhythm that threatened to split her in half with its fury. He'd been led too far - the delicious thrill of having the beautiful white girl sucking his cock... the wildly exciting lewd spectacle of her young friend's naked pussy being cannibalized by Carlton. Suddenly, the black's head went back and a surprised, anguished shout came from his lungs... his black, fleshy hose again spewed its load into the redhead's belly, only this time it pumped in staccato bursts into her hungry, receptive young cunt, filling it completely and oozing whitely out onto the arm of the chair. Karen's pussy-lips milked every drop of the hotly jerking sperm from the huge shaft, sucking the warm viscous liquid deep up into her hungrily absorbing young belly.

* * *

Chris hadn't heard any conversation from inside, so he turned the door handle without knocking. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did, Jesus! He nearly fell over backward!

"Hey, sit down, you'll ruin the show," someone whispered. He looked to his right and saw three white boys crouched on a variety of dirty, worn mattresses. Without thinking, he joined them, still blinking in the blow of the flickering candlelight.

His eyes slowly focused on a naked young brunette a dozen or so feet away, kneeling in humble subjugation as a black man crouched behind her. It was some kind of orgy! Or sex show! And he had stumbled right into it!

The girl's face was away from him, but for an instant later she turned halfway around, peering behind her through drug-dazed eyes at the huge black who was preparing to mount her like a mongrel bitch in heat. Chris nearly cried out in his horrified amazement! He looked again to be sure... it was! It was Sandy! What in God's name was she doing? Had she lost her mind?

He started to get up, but one of the boys grabbed his belt and tugged him back down. "Listen, Mack, I don't know who sent you up here, but don't go fucking up the show, okay? Just sit still and watch... you might learn something."

Chris sat back onto the mattress, his eyes watery now from the tears he wished he could shed. And he watched... watched silently as Sandy, his innocent lovely Sandy, let herself be dragged into the deepest depths of depravity. He couldn't believe it, but it was true enough... right before his eyes!

Oh my God, how could she? What has happened to her? How could she have changed so much?

* * *

Carlton had now crawled up behind the nakedly quivering brunette and grabbed the soft flesh of her buttocks, turning her wetly glistening cunt back up at an even more acute angle. Sandy felt one hand slip away from her ass for an instant, and then it was spreading the soft pliable lips of her pussy. Carlton looked down at his massively throbbing black prick poised just an inch from the white girl's hot little cunt. Then, never taking his eyes off his rigid staff, he watched as his painfully aching cock moved closer and closer to the moistly quivering opening.

Karen, only partially recovered from her wild fucking session, had swung her long legs around and was sitting, enraptured, on the, edge of the chair. Redmond was standing behind her unconsciously resting his mammoth cock on the girl's bare white shoulder. An insistent oozing of semen dripped down onto her flesh, trickling in a lurid stream down to the upthrusting swell of her warm, naked breast.

Now Carlton eased forward onto the young body of the girl on her hands and knees, his eagerly pulsating prick first touching, then slowly slipping into her tight little pussy, parting the soft pubic fluff with the shaft of his mighty organ. He could feel the warm, resilient folds of her pussy close tightly over the bulbous head of his cock as he held it there, immobile, just barely in her clasping vagina, rocking it in and out, teasing her and intensifying the uncontrollable desire in her wantonly writhing body.

My God! What a tight pussy! He couldn't believe how good it felt as her strong muscular walls wetly gripped his aching penis like a clenched fist, pulling him deeper and deeper into her hungrily sucking vaginal depths.

He kept his rigidly long cock there for several minutes, only an inch or two of it nestled in the moist tightness of her cuntal passage, rocking it in and out, driving the naked white girl on her hands and knees insane with his rhythmic, insistent strokes. The walls of her pussy seemed to have come alive; they were throbbing, pulsing, grabbing at this invading maleness desperately trying to pull its long black length into her shamelessly aroused passage.

"Oh God, I can't stand it! I can't stand it! Fuck me, oh, please, fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" Sandy suddenly groaned, her brain spinning wildly from the combined effects of the marijuana and the tormenting probes of his huge fleshy staff skewering into her from behind.

The young brunette's lewd entreaty acted as a goad to the perspiring black student, and suddenly nothing counted except his pleasure-giving penis rammed up deep inside her starving passage. With a quick, smooth snap of his hips, Carlton sank his long cock to the hilt in her vagina, slamming his loins forward until his balls slapped between her thighs. Sandy screamed out, an animal cry of pleasure and pain, and then uttered a long, low moan of anguished relief as he began to thrust in and out with a pounding, savage rhythm, with each instroke ramming deeper and deeper in her wildly rippling belly. Her whole body jerked and squirmed in an obscene abandonment, a constant cry escaped from her half-open lips, her face contorted with primitive, savage lust as madly raging desires took over her body. Beads of perspiration ran down her smoothly naked thighs and mingled with the rivulets of sweat the black man was beginning to shed where their legs ground together.

"Oh yes! Harder! Harder!" she yelled loudly. "Stick it in me hard and deep."

The tortured coed was mindless of Redmond and Karen watching and had long since forgotten the white fraternity boys. The redheaded Karen was mesmerized at Sandy's sudden change from nice girl to wanton whore, and she could feel a rebirth of sexual excitement in her own loins. Both she and Redmond were standing now, close by the wildly pumping figures of the muscular Carlton and the shamelessly aroused brunette.

"Harder. Fuck harder," Sandy screamed again, her voice almost inarticulate through her lust-constricted throat.

Carlton had never seen anything like it in his life. This little white bitch was so hot she was about to explode. "You asked for it, baby. Here it comes," he groaned and grabbed the fleshy curve of her pelvis and yanked her back toward his loins, causing her to cry out shrilly as she was deeply and completely skewered now on his long, hard spear. He could feel the raw smooth flesh of her pussy tightly clenching and unclenching in time with his plundering thrusts, sucking hotly on the long black length of his cock. The young coed's breasts were mashed against the mattress, her buttocks waving obscenely in the air behind her, her eyes and nostrils flaring wide like those of a crazed animal.

Carlton reached under her and lifted her bodily off the mattress as she pushed back hard against him, forcing every steel-hard inch of his ebony shaft deeper and deeper up into her belly. Redmond and Karen drew even closer, only a few feet away now, and even the white boys had moved up - including, though she didn't know it, the latest addition to the spectators, Chris. The hot eyes of their audience were wide with astonishment as they both watched the long glistening shaft of Carlton's huge penis slither in and out of the naked brunette's tightly clenching pussy-lips, slipping out on the backstroke until only the lust-swollen tip remained encased in the hot, moist sheath, then ramming it home again, crashing hard into her belly as his sweat-matted pelvis ground tightly against the cleft of her nakedly squirming buttocks.

"Atta' boy, Carlton... let her have it!" bellowed Redmond, caught up in the lascivious excitement of the moment, fighting the painful hardness swelling in his loins as he stood, naked, by the bed. His arm was around Karen's slender waist, and she, too, seemed almost ready to go out of her mind herself as she watched the black man's hardened cock ram in and out of her best friend's vagina. Suddenly she yelled, "Fuck her good, Carlton! Stick it all the way up; she loves it!"

Sandy knew she was rapidly nearing the first orgasm she'd ever had, and she wanted more, more! This was incredible... she'd never experienced anything like this in all her life! She was dazed by the flashing colors that seemed to explode across her brain, by the high-voltage blasts of electric passion shooting through her body like blasts from a shotgun. Suddenly, this was the way she wanted it... wicked and perverted, the filthier and more lurid the better! "Oh! Oh! Oh! That's it! That's it! Oh, yes... yes... YES!"

Her wildly gyrating buttocks swung from side to side in an uncontrollable savage passion as his powerful black arms - muscles bunched and rippling under the ebony skin - pulled her writhing ass harder and harder against his nearly-bursting, lust-inflamed prick.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Aahh! Aahh! Ahhhhhhhh! I'm cumming," Sandy suddenly screamed. Carlton didn't slow his powerfully deep strokes for even a second; instead, he rammed each long probe to the hilt, straining his loins forward so that not even a millimeter was left outside the naked white girl's hungrily sucking cunt. Her body arched, her nakedly gleaming white ass went high in the air as she pushed up and back against her black lover. She shrieked like an animal gone mad as her orgasm continued to build in intensity. Then the impaled young coed convulsed, quivering all over as her orgasmic juices flooded his cock and testicles, flowing wetly out of her tightly clenched young vaginal lips down her smooth inner thighs.

Carlton knew this was the end; he couldn't hold back the painful tide in his loins any longer. His long fingers bit into the soft fleshy cheeks of her buttocks as he felt the pain intensify in his balls. His strokes grew more and more vicious, faster and faster... deeper and deeper.

"Ooohhhhh... ooohhhhh... ooohhhh! Sandy punctuated his every thrust with a soulful cry, grinding her upturned ass back against his black loins. Then... with a loud, relieved grunt, the wildly throbbing cock exploded inside the impaled hips of the wildly drugged young white girl, filling her belly with his hot torrents of cum, shooting it far, far up into her open and receptive womb. Again and again and again his long, rigidly pulsating rod emptied itself with spasmodic jerks up into her wetly clasping and sucking passage. Then, after a seeming eternity... with a pained grunt, his already deflating penis slipped from her tightly clenching cuntal grip, and she fell forward on her face, still shivering and squirming lewdly from his frenzied assault... the only sound in the room was the gasping wheeze hissing out of Sandy's naked chest as she fought to regain her breath, and a low groan from the shamelessly aroused Karen as her hand closed over the long, throbbing length of Redmond's penis and began to caress it lovingly...

Chris got quietly to his feet, unnoticed as the others watched Karen stroke Redmond into readiness. His eyes, though, were still on the naked body of his once beloved Sandy.

Sandy - the girl he once thought would be Mrs. Chris Harper someday. Naked and gang-fucked until she couldn't walk. A common whore! How could he have ever thought she was decent?

He made it to the door without her seeing him. The knob turned quietly and he was out into the coolness of the hallway. He'd leave the fraternity house just as quietly as he had left the room, go away from this house of shame, away from this campus. There had to be other campuses, other girls for him... and without the painful memories this one would always have for him now.

Behind him, as he closed the door, he heard a familiar giggle, and grimaced from the pain as he imagined what was going to happen. There was a noisy babble of voices, some arguing among the white fraternity brothers, and a long, low moan he knew only too well...

Outside the night seemed colder than when he'd come down the hill from the road above. He waited when he'd reached the top for the light at the service road to change, then crossed over to the main one, stopping where, just an hour ago, he'd been dropped off by the truck driver. No one at the frat house knew his name, no one would know he'd even been there. Most of all Sandy! He didn't want her to know that he had witnessed her shame, for he planned to forget this night, if he could, and remember her as before - his Sandy, the one he left behind when he went west, not the one he'd seen there in that dark stuffy room.

His luck seemed to be changing - he'd hardly put out his thumb when a blue Cadillac pulled to a halt, the back seat loaded with garment bags suspended from a car-wide chrome bar. The car was driven by a wild-looking blonde woman, about thirty-five, wearing a skin-tight jump-suit that did nothing to hide her ripely mature breasts or supple body.

"Going North?" the woman asked, raking his young figure with a speculative gaze, as she leaned over him to relock the door.

Chris thought for a minute. "Yeah, that's right... north it is."


CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sandy's new roommate, Linda Meyers, was unpacking the last of her clothes in her new room, ecstatic at finding such a lovely place so near the campus, Karen was living with Harmon now, though she still was number-one call girl in his growing business. Sandy looked around the room at the new furniture, all fresh from the city's top decorator's showrooms, plus a fabulous stereo system that had been an outright gift from Harmon. Through the window she could see her saucy little Camaro sports roadster, bright red with black leather interior, and bought with the money Harmon had made possible for her.

It was proving to be easier every time, and she'd been at it now for three months. She had to admit that at first, even after that night at the fraternity house with the two blacks, it was pretty rough going. But not now; now she found she enjoyed her line of work, enjoyed making far more than she could have hoped for with just a college degree to her credit. Her parents had been upset at first about her quitting school, but they quickly cooled down when those three-hundred-dollar checks started coming through the mail every month. And she didn't miss the money; after all, it kept them contented and out of her hair, and though they were curious about where it all came from, they seemed satisfied just to let themselves believe their daughter had been fortunate to find a good job.

This new girl, Linda, seemed friendly enough; God knows, she was certainly a looker! A freshman, she gathered, though she hadn't asked her yet. Actually, she knew little about her - that is, just what she needed to know.

Harmon had sent her when Karen moved out; she was another of his "finds" from the store, and it didn't take much of an imagination to figure out what he had in mind for her.

Linda lifted the last of her boxes of belongings to the bed and Sandy went in to help her; it felt like it was filled with lead bricks.

"Records!" Linda said excitedly, "I'm a nut about music. But don't worry, I've got my own system and I use headphones a lot. I won't bother you or anything," she said somewhat shyly.

"You have quite a collection there, looks like at least two hundred albums."

"Three hundred and five, to be exact, and most of them brand new!"

"Wow, that's a lot of bread. What's your daddy do, drill oil wells?"

"No, you'd never believe it. I got 'em mostly at Stereo Junction. This nice man, Mr. Destian, said I could have unlimited credit and pay the store back as I could. Isn't that great!?"

Sandy grinned at the pert little blonde, girlishly beautiful and trim in her skin-tight jeans and her man's shirt. She bulged in all the right places and that shirt looked like she'd hidden a couple of ripe peaches inside it. Yes, honey, you'll pay the store back all right, she thought to herself, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, and pay... and pay... and pay!


The End
