Frieda leaned back on the air mattress by the side of the pool, closing her eyes and pretending to be asleep. She couldn't let her brother Brian know that she'd been staring at the massive, hard bulge of his cock that protruded between his legs like a granite boulder stuffed in his white swimming trunks. Hot/cold electric flashes swept over her body, making her cunt and asshole twitch excitedly every time her eyes involuntarily traveled toward the patio to take in- her brother's firm, well-molded body.
Oh Christ, she thought guiltily, he's my brother! I shouldn't feel this way! Frieda ran her slender fingers over her stomach, breathing deeply, pretending they were Brian's strong hands sliding over her tender flesh, groping, demanding, wanting more. She slid her index finger under her right tit, trailing the tip of it over the taut nipple. Her clit vibrated furiously in response.
"Oh Brian," she moaned softly, then opened her eyes in horror and looked around to see if anyone had heard her. Thank God. They were all talking under the sun umbrella, probably about her mother's recent marriage. Frieda shifted her gaze to Max, her mother's new husband, and felt a shiver of revulsion creep over her. Max was fat, repulsively ugly, had bad breath, one retarded son, two German shepherds who looked at her as hBtfuHy as he did. Frieda always wondered why her mother dated him, let alone marry him. Of course, it was probably because, number one, she was lonely, and number two, he was rich. As for Max, Frieda knew that he just tolerated her mother, and really wanted to strap his new stepdaughter on. Every time she crossed the room she could feel his eyes tearing apart the soft cotton cloth of her dress, ripping off her lace bra and panties, snaking through her bushy forest of black wiry pubic hair to the sensitive lips of her cunt, and then on . ..
Frieda shuddered and forcibly put Max out of her mind. She looked at Brian again, and went hot. She remembered fondly the little games the two of them used to play with their bodies when she was a little girl. He'd sneak into her bedroom at night and -start feeling her up and down, sticking his finger in her cunt and wiggling it all around until she moaned like a bitch spaniel in heat. At the same time she would stick her hand in the slit of his pajama bottoms and frig his cock wildly. Even now, she could feel her tiny fingers grip Brian's heavy rod and begin to milk it, slowly at first, then more quickly as her passion grew stronger.
Maybe her mother suspected something was going on between them. Whatever the reason, she sent Brian away to boarding school as soon as he graduated from elementary school. For the next ten years, Frieda only saw him for short periods of time during vacations and visits, never enough time to expand their early sex-play into something larger and more interesting that she began to want more and more as she grew older.
Now he was home, on leave from the Marines where he was just commissioned a second lieutenant. There he stood, still partially a boy, but in reality a man. His hair was sunbleached nearly white after a summer of boot camp training in the desert. Thick and wavy, it curled across his forehead and behind his ears, seeming to invite her fingers to stroke it. His face was boyishly innocent with large, dark-brown eyes and long, thick lashes. There was only a hint of a beard just under his sideburns. Two dimples appeared on either side of his sensuous, pouting lips when he smiled. Lately, that was often...every time he looked Frieda's way. She closed her eyes and pretended that she could feel his body pressing against hers, demanding complete satisfaction. She spread her legs, pushing her ass against the rubber covering of the air mattress, then up intofthe air until the crotch cloth of her bikini pressed hard against her pussy. She closed her legs, only to feel something warm and hairy against the insides of her ankles. Frieda opened her eyes and saw Brian towering over her, smiling.
"Having some sweet dreams?" he said jokingly. Frieda was too embarrassed to say anything.
"Come on. Let's go for a walk. I want to get out of here and talk to you."
Frieda followed him as he almost ran from the pool toward a grove of trees that surrounded her mother's home. She watched his muscles ripple and his asscheeks undulate under the white cloth of his swim suit as he walked a few paces ahead of her. In seconds they were hidden from the world in a cathedral-like clearing of tall oaks and pines. He stopped so quickly that she nearly ran into him. He seemed to be breathing heavily.
"Frieda, come here," he ordered in a changed voice. There was an edge of brutality in it as she obeyed.
"Take off that damned suit!"
Frieda couldn't believe what she had heard. She was horrified as much as overjoyed. She shifted her eyes down to Brian's crotch and saw the bulge growing every second. She could see the outline of his stiffening cock, and wondered if the head would push its way out of the trunks.
Slowly she unfastened the top of her bikini and let it float to the ground. Her pendulous tits excited Brian and he lunged forward, clamping his lips to her right nipple.
"Unnngh," she moaned, feeling his thick, moist lips slide across her stiffened nipple. She felt his tongue swirl around the hardened flesh, sucking, nibbling, swirling until she opened her mouth to catch her breath. Slowly, he began to kneel to the ground, sliding his .mouth from her tit to her stomach, tonguing his way along her hot flesh to her cunt, leaving a tiny trail of saliva behind him.
Brian tugged at the wrinkled bikini bottom until it slid under his pressure to her knees. Frieda felt his tongue probing her cuntlips, teasingly probing between them but not actually forcing its way into her sensitive fuck channel. Frieda felt a growing, almost unbearable itch gripping her clit that could only be scratched by Brian's tongue or cock. She thrust her hips wildly forward, hoping to impale herself on his stiff, hot tongue.
"Not yet," he whispered hoarsely, standing up and slipping out of his trunks. Frieda gasped as she saw her brother naked for the first time in ten years. She stared at his cock, large and thick with a beautiful throbbing vein running from the base of the powerful rod to near the head. She wanted it stuffed in her, sliding against her clit until she exploded against him.
"Fuck me," she moaned hoarsely.
Brian smiled a little cruelly, massaging his cock as he gazed at Frieda.
"But you're my sister."
"I don't care, fuck me!" Frieda couldn't believe she was saying this as she saw Brian walk slowly up to her, his cock swaying back and forth as he moved. For years she had tried to fight the feeling she had for her brother. But his massive cock, their being alone in the woods-, her depression over her mother's remarriage, and the fact that she was hot for Brian's body soon overpowered any feelings of guilt she may have had. She felt Brian's hot breath on her face and the tip of his cock poking gently at the sensitive pubic hairs that covered her cunt. Slowly he grabbed her head and drew her face to "his.
"Oh Brian, Brian," she moaned as she felt his thick lips press against hers, his tongue plunging into her throat while his hands cupped her ass and kneaded the soft flesh. Suddenly, he pulled away.
"Suck my cock, Sis."
"But, I-I never," Frieda stammered. She had never sucked cock before, feeling as though there was something dirty about putting a man's dick between her lips.
"I said suck it!" Brian put his hands on her shoulders and forced her to her knees. Frieda felt her brother's hot dick scrape the side of her face.
Closing her eyes, she quickly thrust her head into her brother's crotch, smelling the perspiration that began to trickle between the wiry hairs of his crotch. She took his cock in her hand and shoved it forcefully into her mouth, thinking that sucking cock was like learning how to swim...plunge right in there and get going. Frieda nearly gagged as Brian thrust his hips forward, forcing the full length of his cockshaft down her throat.
"Unngh," Frieda protested, trying to pull away. Her brother grabbed the back of her head and shoved it back against his groin, pumping his hips excitedly.
Gradually, Frieda began to get used to the hot meat between her lips. She felt her clit tingle, and reached down to stroke it as her tongue ran in circles over the cock head, dipping into the tight slit. Still it grew and lengthened, filling up her mouth, throbbing with excitement and heat.
"Faster, damn you, faster," Brian moaned, carried away by Frieda's increasingly frenzied tonguing. To excite him further, she raised one hand to his crotch and began to play gently with his heavy, swinging balls, brushing the fine hair that surrounded the base of his cock, her fingers running up the thick, pulsing vein that ran the entire length of his young prick.
Her brother began moaning louder as he felt the warm, wet mouth devour his cock. Frieda felt his hands on her head, shoving it further onto his cock, feeling the tip of his prick being rammed against the back of her hungry mouth. Frieda began to finger her stiffening, aching clit more furiously, growing excited as she heard her brother moan for more. Frieda slowly slid her hand from Brian's cock and began traveling up her brother's abdomen, pushing through the thick bush of hair until the fingers began to knead the hard, hot flesh of his belly. They searched out the small navel and dug into it, sending Brian into a frenzy of lust as he arched his back and shoved his stomach closer to Frieda's face.
The fingers titillated Brian's tight flesh as they traced the pulsating veins that appeared on either side of his hips and flowed from beneath the tight flesh of his belly only to disappear under the thick mound of hair above his cock. Frieda took m the scene with her eyes then closed them, the image of Brian's writhing, sweating body with his throbbing cock plunged into her mouth branded into her brain.
Suddenly, he pulled away. "Hey, not so fast. Now it's my turn."
"I don't understand."
Brian didn't give her time to talk, pulling her to the ground while he knelt between her legs.
"Spread 'em, Sis."
Frieda did as she was told, and watched her brother sink his head quickly into her crotch. She opened her mouth as she felt his tongue snake up toward her clitoris; she shivered in ecstasy as a finger stroked her asshole. She felt Brian's tongue settle on her clit for an instant; then she could feel a pair of lips closing around the tiny knob, sucking her erect clit just as she had been sucking his cock seconds before. She felt her crotch tingling, and suddenly there was a trickle of cunt juice flowing down her thigh, and she knew she was slowly losing any self-control she had.
Frieda felt fingers resting on the inner surfaces of her left thigh. They were moving upward toward her cunt. Then he was moving them farther back, toward where her asscheeks came together near her asshole. She knew what he was going to try to do, and tried to pull away.
"N-no!" she protested. Suddenly, a feeling of guilt swept over her. She had never sucked a man's cock before, and certainly never had a finger up her ass. Yet here was her brother, wanting to do what she would never let any man do. It was almost too horrible to think about.
Brian said nothing, jamming his fingers hard against the puckered opening of her ass. She felt him dig into her flesh with his fingernail, trying to tear his way into her asshole. She wanted to scream out for help, but didn't dare. She imagined what would happen if people were to discover the two of them, brother and sister, his tongue up her cunt and fingers up her ass! Frieda tried to relax, hoping that he would be gentle.
Gradually, inch by inch, Frieda felt Brian's forefinger squirm past her tightened sphincter muscle and wiggle its way up her asshole. She felt hot flashes of pleasure/pain shoot from her ass to all parts of her body. Frieda was amazed that something up her ass could make her clit tingle, though she knew that her brother's fast-flicking tongue had something to do with that. Gradually, she forgot about the pain and reveled in the flashes of pleasure that shot from her cunt to her ass and back to her cunt again.
Brian raised his head and stared at her, suddenly stopping his tonguing. Frieda wondered if he was suffering from any of the guilt feelings she had felt seconds before. She decided to bring him back to his senses, and brought her hand down to her pussy and used her fingers to spread the lips. Brian lowered his stare to the exposed hole, trying to see inside. Well, that was fine with her. She held the cuntlips apart while her right forefinger dipped into the hole and brought up the juices. She spread her pussy's lubricant along the inner surfaces of her cuntlips, then pushed the finger slowly toward her asshole. She hesitated for an instant, gazed into Brian's eyes, saw his approval there, and pushed the finger into her tight asshole. She shivered with rising excitement, and her asshole gave an involuntary twitch.
There was no limit to the pleasure that she felt when that same finger came to rest again on her trembling clitoral bud. She stroked, squeezed, tugged, rubbed, strummed the tiny organ; each movement was like a tiny burst of electricity that made her jerk with excitement. She moved her right forefinger down to her cunthole repeatedly, sticking it inside and pulling it out a second later when it was freshly coated and glistening with twat juice, and each time she did that she thought of her brother's cock, and wished that it were in her, that it could be stuffing her snatch right then and there.
"Oh God, Sis," Brian moaned, fingering his cock as he stared blankly at Frieda's exhibition. "Can I stick it in now?"
Frieda nodded excitedly and reached toward him with eager arMs. Then he was on top of her, and his cock was sliding into her without any resistance, and her cuntal walls were closing around the thick, long shaft and squeezing, crushing, trying to pump the cum from his balls and deep into her womb.
"Oh, yes!" Frieda cried again and again as he sucked her tits again, bit her shoulder, moved his cock in and out of her cunt. There was a steady squishing sound as he pumped back and forth in her. Frieda loved the sound.
His breathing became heavier, turned to gasps, as Brian became more excited. God, he's going to cum in me! For the first time, my brother's going to blow his wad in my cunt!
Saliva dribbled from the corner of his mouth and landed on her cheek, exciting her as she tossed her head from side to side in unspeakable ecstasy. Suddenly Brian's mouth was against hers, the way she liked it; he'd abandoned her tits for her mouth, and he was pushing her lips apart, forcing his thick tongue past her teeth, shoving forward and inward into the hot, moist recesses of her mouth. She almost gagged as he lashed out with his tongue. She loved to have her dates do this to her, but often she fantasized that they were her brother plunging his tongue into her mouth. And now here he was! It was almost too good to be true. Frieda fought back with her own tongue, and the two tongues soon fought a rhythmic duel, a battle of slick-fleshed swords, while at the same time and at the same tempo their loins rose and fell, twisted and jerked, moved back and forth in the timeless rhythm of fucking.
Pulling away, Brian stared at her, then closed his eyes and she closed hers, and the only thing she saw was a mental image of his slick, swollen, heavily veined and throbbing cock.
Brian opened his mouth and tried to say something. The words came out as a groan. Frieda tried to say something back, but he touched her clit as she was starting to say it, and her voice gave way to a cry and a whimper.
His fingers searched for her asshole and found it, and he forced one of them inside. This was something she fought at first, then decided to accept. How could she mind when the thumb of the same hand was lightly rubbing the ridge between her cunt and asshole, spreading juice along it and into her asshole and making her feel so very, very good. Yes. Yes. She smelled her cunt juice, and then she smelled his sweat, the pungent odor of her brother's masculine sweat dripping onto her steaming flesh as she writhed beneath his hot hard body. She forced a hand between his body and hers, felt around until she had gotten ahold of his balls, and she felt him jerk back.
Her cunt was becoming more constricted all the time. But now it was excitement, not fear or reluctance, that caused her cunt to tighten beneath his thrusts. She felt the cunt muscles grip his cock so that each strong forward movement was like a finger entering a clenched fist.
And then she was cumming, reaching her peak almost before she knew what was happening to her. She felt the heat of the sex flush spreading across her stomach and up to her tits, and she grimaced almost painfully as the first powerful contraction occurred between her thighs. It was a double contraction, really; a twitching of her cunt, a spasm of her asshole. She started to cry out, but the cry ended as a groan. Brian's finger slammed itself so deep into her asshole that she tossed her hips off the ground wildly until she thought she was flying above the trees. She swallowed his cock even deeper into her cunt and then she didn't know what was happening to her except that she was squishing and bouncing and gasping and sliding and rolling to the accompaniment of moans and juices and male cum and sweat.
When it was over, Brian pulled out of her and wiped his cock with his hand.
"Looks a little messy," she murmured, feeling a warm, comforting glow spread from her cunt to her tits. Brian stuck his fingers into her cunt again. Frieda's pussy contracted instinctively, in a sort of postorgasmic self-protection.
Brian laughed. "Shy, suddenly?"
"Just a little surprised at all this happening at once." She forced her cunt muscles to relax.
Brian played with her until she began to feel excited again.
"Frieda, I'm getting married," he announced suddenly. She nearly froze in horror. Here she was, fucking her own brother, and he was calmly announcing his wedding plans!
"What?"
"I'm getting married, to a girl I met while I was training in San Diego."
Frieda didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She felt ridiculous, happy, and jealous all at once. She decided that for her brother's peace of mind, she'd better act happy.
"I'm happy for you, Brian." She looked up and saw her brother's face...it didn't look as though he were brimming with enthusiasm.
"I don't know, Sis. Betty's a sweet kid, and I hate bringing her down here, especially with that pig Mom's married hanging around, trying to look up every young twat he sees. I'm surprised he hasn't tried anything with you."
Frieda grimaced as she thought of Max. She knew she could handle herself, but could this Betty? Immediately, she felt sorry for the girl before she even met her.
"And then there's you," Brian said.
Frieda felt herself flush.
"I've got this thing for you, Frieda. Guess I always did. Always wanted to climb into your cunt, even when we were kids. I thought that once I did, I'd be cured. But... "
Frieda smiled. "After you're married, well just have to control ourselves. But Betty isn't here yet," she said, smiling suggestively up at her brother. Brian smiled back and moved his fingers back to her cunt. With that she thrust her hips forward and upward and reached through her legs for his balls.
CHAPTER TWO
Frieda saw that her mother was looking around anxiously for her as she and Brian rounded the corner of the house and walked up to the patio gathering. Immediately Frieda felt Max's hot stare slide from her neck down her chest like some gob of hot slime, finally resting on her crotch.
"Where've you two been?" her mother asked nervously.
"A better question, Alice, is what've they been up to?"
Frieda felt her clit twitch deliciously and involuntarily at Max's insinuation. She blushed slightly as she remembered how she'd sucked Brian's cock in the woods, and how he had greedily stuffed her cunt with his thick prick until they had both exploded with excitement. Frieda saw that her mother was upset by Max's suggestion that they had been doing something wrong.
"We were just talking," Brian said defensively. "I told her about me and Betty."
"Oh, I almost forget!" Frieda's mother exclaimed. "Betty's coming up here tonight. She just phoned, while you two were gone, and said she's driving up. I'm so nervous, meeting my future daughter-in-law for the first time."
Frieda was crushed. She thought of Brian's iron-hard body crushing hers to the forest floor, his hot, pulsing cock jamming itself urgently against the trembling lips of her cunt, begging for entry as her body bucked, twitched, jerked with rising tension. Brian forgot about me as soon as that bitch was mentioned, she thought bitterly as she sat down at the same table as Max. Staring at the woods absently, Frieda didn't notice that her mother and Brian had left the patio and gone into the house to make plans for Betty's arrival.
She tried to picture Brian lying on top of some strange woman, sucking her tits, jamming his fingers up her twat, sliding his face down her writhing belly to her crotch to suck up the dripping cunt juice. Suddenly she felt something against her left knee. It was Max's hand.
"A penny for your thoughts."
How original, she thought as she quickly moved her knee away from her stepfather's crawling hand. If only his palms weren't so cold and sweaty all the time.
"Not thinking about too much of anything," Frieda said as pleasantly as she could, hoping that Max would drop dead on the spot of a coronary.
"I'll bet," he said, leering at her, and moving his hand back to her knee.
"Please, Max, leave me alone," she said, throwing his hand away from her knee.
"You ain't so fuckin' picky when it comes to other people," Max said, pushing his hand back onto her knee. Frieda had had enough of Max for one day.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Max, and I don't care. Just leave me alone." Frieda started to get up, but Max pulled her down roughly and shot off his chair, nearly knocking over the table until he was straddling the chair she was sitting in. Holding her in place by the throat with one hand, he slowly massaged his crotch with the other.
"Ohhh, baby, you ain't got any idea what I want you to do with this."
Frieda had already guessed and was appalled by the suggestion. The idea of Max's cock down her throat or up her cunt disgusted her.
"You get out of here, Max," she managed to whisper. His hold on her was tight, but not tight enough so that she couldn't scream. She wanted to avoid a scene, but would cause one if he didn't let her go. She saw that Max hesitated for a minute. That gave her all the time she needed to break away from him and slip behind the table.
"You take one step toward me, just one step, and I swear I'll scream for Brian, and he'll tear you apart!" she whispered hoarsely.
"So, incest's your game, you fuckin' little bitch. Boy, if your old lady ever knew ..."
Frieda flushed crimson, even though she knew that Max was only guessing. She must be more careful in the future to hide her feelings from that bastard.
"O.K., go on, get out of here," he said threateningly, "but don't think I'll ever forget this, baby. I'm gonna get you, one way or the other."
Frieda spent the day trying to forget about Max and Betty, but when one wasn't taking up room in her mind, the other was. And in between the vision of her and Brian fucking each other like cats in the woods made her cunt contract until she thought she was having another orgasm.
Evening came without Frieda even realizing what hour it was. Her mother had to tell her twice to get dressed before Betty arrived. As the hour approached, she wanted to run out of the house somewhere, anywhere, just to avoid meeting that bitch who was going to marry her brother. She decided to wear something that would make Brian see just what he was losing, and she began running through her wardrobe. She decided on a short, low-cut black cocktail dress she hadn't worn in over a year. Friends told her it made her look like a whore, her rounded thighs straining at the hem while her tits nearly exploded out of the top.
While she was admiring herself in the mirror in her bedroom, Frieda heard the doorbell ring. The bitch had arrived, she thought.
Through the introductions and dinner, Frieda's dress had the effect she wanted. Brian turned red every time he looked at her, she noticed as she tried to keep up polite chit chat with her future sister-in-law. She didn't have to look at Max to know he was rubbing his cock with his hand every time he stared at her. What surprised her was Betty's apparent interest in her tits. The thought struck her that maybe Brian was marry a dyke. But as she was getting ready for bed, she realized Betty wasn't too bad...she was actually beginning to like her. The girl was attractive in her tall, flat-chested way, and obviously intelligent. She was working on her master's degree in abnormal psychology, something Frieda thought would help her in dealing with her future husband's family. She headed for the bathroom. The door was closed, and she heard the shower running.
"Who's in there?" she called through the door.
"It's me, Betty. It's all right, you can come in."
Frieda walked in to brush her teeth and could see Betty standing in the shower. She hadn't drawn the curtain completely and Frieda could see her as she was soaping up her tits, belly and thighs. It looked harmless enough, but there was something suspicious about the way Betty was pushing two fingers into her cunt, presumably to get it clean. But Frieda began to wonder if it was really to soothe an itching, throbbing clit. Frieda saw Betty's chest rise and her thighs close against her hand for a second or two. She began to regret that she had walked in naked, but it was a hot night, and besides, she liked to sleep in the nude. When she felt an unexpected tingling in her own cunt, Frieda blushed. Christ, am I a dyke too? she thought as she brushed her teeth more quickly than usual and left the bathroom in a hurry. She was sorry now that she had invited Betty to sleep in the same room with her in the extra bed.
As she lay in her bed, Frieda thought that Betty could probably think of nothing better than sticking a tongue up her pink-lipped pussy, slurping up her cunt juice like a man dying of thirst. Ha! And this was the sweet young thing Brian was marrying, someone who wanted to crouch between her thighs to suck her clit, lather her cuntlips with saliva, stick her fingers up her twat while she, Frieda, groaned in horror, but not without a measure of delight. She had never had a woman's tongue up her snatch, and she was always one for the unusual. Besides, it would feel good to take this girl down a peg or two. Frieda kept envisioning Betty hungrily lapping her clit as she dropped slowly off to sleep.
It was several hours later. Frieda had been sleeping, dreaming of Brian's cock. In her mind she could see the veins, the throbbing shaft of his cock, the warm, sticky cum still spurting from the tip into her itching cunt. Now his cock was growing hard again, as if some miracle were taking place . . . emptied of its cum, but ready to shoot some more. Fuck me! she cried silently as she went on dreaming. Oh, Brian, fill me with your prick! It was what she wanted; cockmeat, stiff, long, thick, hot inches of it rammed up her pussy and moving back and forth, twisting from side to side while Brian's fingers crept down to her clit and made her want to scream in agony as she came.
Frieda jerked awake with a shock. She stared at the hand between her legs, then moved her gaze upward. Her molester was Betty, and she was smiling gently.
"Stop it!" Frieda whispered hoarsely as she knocked the hand away. Betty didn't seem to be shocked by the rebuff; she just chuckled.
"If you didn't like it, why didn't you stop me a few minutes ago, when I started."
Frieda blushed. "I was asleep."
"And you didn't feel a thing?"
"I thought I was..." She swallowed hard. "I thought I was dreaming."
"Oh, sure. You always think you're dreaming when you tighten your cunt muscles around a couple of fingers."
"That's none of your business, Betty," Frieda said nervously.
"By the way, got a boyfriend?"
She was shocked by the question, and wondered what Betty was after.
"Nothing steady."
"Well, you're no virgin, Frieda. And if you don't have a boyfriend, you've got to have, well, you know what I mean."
Frieda didn't want to tell her about Brian; at least, not yet.
"I'm not doing anything like that. I never have. Not with anyone. I'm not a Lesbian, Betty."
"Well, don't sound so huffy, honey. Neither am I. I just like to swing both ways, and I think you do too, although maybe you don't realize it just now. I saw you at dinner, waving those big tits at me like some kind of banner."
"You're imagining things. I never tried anything like that with a woman," Frieda protested, feeling her resolution weakening as she saw Betty towering over her. The night air was hot and sticky and made her feel more adventurous than she'd felt in a long time. Something tightened in her cunt as she looked at Betty, and she wanted the woman to do something about it.
"Well, there's a first time for everything." Betty's tone was filled with emotion as she climbed onto the bed and pushed Frieda's thighs apart. Seconds later, Frieda felt the tongue pushing its way into her cunt. Frieda shuddered in revulsion as the fingers pulled her cuntlips apart so that the unwelcome tongue could twist its way deeper into the dry, unfeeling hole.
Frieda began to feel a warm sensation that responded to Betty's insistent probing. She couldn't help it. Betty was an expert, a girl who apparently knew what tongues were for. Frieda gritted her teeth as she felt the tongue snake up toward her clitoris; she shivered in fear and disgust as a finger stroked her asshole. She felt Betty's tongue settle on her clit for an instant; then she could feel a pair of lips closing around the tiny knob, and Betty began to apply suction. Frieda could feel it now; it was like fucking with Brian, like being sucked off by him and nibbled and she was starting to respond; she couldn't help it. She could feel her crotch tingling, and suddenly there was a trickle of cunt juice dripping slowly down her thigh, and she knew that no matter how hard she tried she simply would not be able to maintain her self-control.
Several minutes later, when Frieda thought she couldn't stand it any more, Betty's mouth retreated. She sighed in relief as her future sister-in-law climbed off the bed.
"That's all?" Frieda whispered. She couldn't believe that Betty didn't realize that she hadn't cum.
Betty didn't answer, but rummaged through her suitcase at the foot of the bed. Frieda couldn't understand what she was looking for...and at a time like this! She saw Betty close the suitcase and start back for the bed, but with something in her hand. By the faint light of the moon, Frieda saw that it was a large rubber dildo. Her jaw fell as she stared at the artificial cock, she felt the sweat ooze onto her forehead, and there was a twitch in her guts that corresponded to one in her cunt.
"My God! You can't use that thing on me!"
Betty just laughed and pushed Frieda's legs high and wide. "It's better than a cock; no sticky load in your twat, no worries about babies, and it won't quit until you want it to. And look, it vibrates!"
As if to emphasize her point, Betty twisted a knob at the dildo's base. The large pink plastic cock began to buzz, and Betty leaned forward, slowly bringing its enormous shining knob against Frieda's trembling cunt.
Frieda had lost the fight, and she knew it as soon as the rubber cockhead had disappeared into her hot, juicy snatch. It was just like being fucked, only better in a way. The vibrations poured through the flesh of her cunt and were carried like bolts of electricity to her sensitive clit; it was as if her entire body had been turned to jelly. She shuddered as the powerful sensations spread outward from her cunt.
But Betty had more on her mind than simply giving pleasure to Frieda. Suddenly Betty was moving around, and Frieda was aware of a shadow descending over her head; she opened her eyes and saw that Betty's hairy cunt was only inches from her mouth. God, no, I can't do that! she thought in revulsion, struggling to get free of Betty. She tried to move her face to one side, but she was blocked by Betty's thigh. Then the crotch was closer, only two inches away from her eyes.
She didn't have time to think about it any longer. The cunt was suddenly pressed against her mouth, and she could taste the sharp flavor of cunt juice. Frieda didn't know what to do, but Betty soon snapped a command. "Eat me, damn you!" she warned, and Frieda was too frightened not to obey.
She could feel her tongue disappearing between the cuntlips and into the hole. Then she heard Betty say something about her clit, so she pulled her tongue from the opening and moved it higher, letting its sharp tip dart against the swollen pealike organ. Betty gasped, then uttered a muffled cry of delight, and Frieda blushed. Strangely enough, she was a little proud of making Betty respond so strongly; then, after Frieda had attacked the clit with pursed lips and had made Betty whimper from the suction, she gave herself completely to the vibrating rubber cock. She could feel its hot slick plastic skin beat against her twitching cunt walls, probing, sliding in and out more furiously as Betty lost control of herself. Frieda thought the girl had sent the cock up her twat like a torpedo bound for her womb. The feeling was unspeakably exciting, and Frieda moaned, bucked, slid her sweat-dripping ass back and forth on the soaked sheets as she tightened her cunt muscles around the buzzing cock as if to invite it deeper into her cunt.
"Faster!" Betty cried, crashing her cunt down hard onto Frieda's chewing mouth. She stuck her tongue deep into Betty's pussy and touched her clit with a trembling finger. She let her other hand creep toward Betty's asshole, where she got up the nerve to give a tentative push. The puckered opening went loose for a minute, admitting the first joint of Frieda's finger, then clamped shut tight again so that her finger was trapped inside the hole.
Frieda's thighs were clamped tightly around Betty's wrist as her hand wielded the rubber-skinned vibrating cock. She shoved that dildo deep into Frieda's cunt and started to churn it like the stick of a butter churn. Frieda felt her insides being mixed together into an excited mess. All she could think of was that juicy, hot and hairy cunt slamming like a piston against her face while that massive buzzing cock was driving her over the edge. Frieda could feel the saliva and cunt juice trickling down her cheeks, but she didn't mind now. She felt a spasm in her crotch, and then another, and suddenly her cunt broke loose with a long, twitching series of contractions so powerful that she lifted her hips off the bed and ground her teeth against Betty's fluttering cuntlips. Betty's cunt jerked, and the asshole tightened itself around Frieda's finger, and Frieda tasted a fresh torrent of juice.
Betty groaned, then slammed her cunt down hard against Frieda's face, grinding her snatch back and forth, side to side as her cunt was racked with violent and ecstatic contractions.
It seemed like hours before Betty's body finally went limp and she collapsed on top of Frieda.
"Unnh!" Frieda exclaimed, pushing Betty to one side of the bed. She was nearly breathless, and didn't need that extra weight crushing her into the mattress.
"For your first time, you did all right, honey," Betty said, finally lifting herself off the bed. She stood in the middle of the room, toweling the sweat and cunt juice off her body.
"This may sound silly to you, Betty," Frieda finally managed to say, "but I'm not a Lesbian. I never tried it until you got to me, so I'm pretty new to it, and I don't think I want to stick with it. I enjoyed what I did with you, but I like guys, too. I don't think I can keep myself from enjoying ... normal sex."
Frieda hesitated using the word "normal", thinking that Betty would hardly classify her desire for Brian as normal.
Betty laughed. "Well, don't worry. I'm not going to be chasing you after I marry your brother. Not, at least, unless you make the overtures."
Frieda couldn't imagine herself making any overtures to the girl; but then, until a few minutes ago, she would never have guessed that she enjoyed cunt as well as cock.
"Besides, I'll be so busy with Brian that I won't have much time for anyone else. I hope this doesn't shock you, but your brother and I have played around a lot before we decided to get married."
Frieda almost exploded in laughter. She had just sucked and fucked her brother practically under her mother's eyeballs this afternoon, then turned around and ate her future sister-in-law's cunt, while being fucked by a dildo this evening! No, she didn't think that much else could shock her.
"Well, it doesn't bother me a bit," Frieda said nonchalantly, reluctantly pulling the vibrating dildo from her well-fucked cunt. It felt so goo'd vibrating in there, like a deep, luxurious massage to her tender cunt walls. Betty leaned over and took the fake cock from Frieda.
"This little gem can really do a girl good. Ever think of having it up your ass?"
Frieda's eyes opened wide. "No! That's .. . that's disgusting!"
"It's fun!" Betty replied. "I've had it stuck there several times while your brother was busy fucking me. You can't imagine how great it is to have that rod twitching in your ass while somebody's fucking you!"
Frieda tried to imagine that massive plastic cock sliding into her ass, and winced at the thought.
"And Brian sometimes likes to have it popped up his ass. Says it gives him an added kick when he cums."
"I don't believe it! You're lying! My brother wouldn't, couldn't..." Frieda sputtered. She couldn't believe that Brian liked to do such things. It sounded perverted, wrong. But before she could say any more, Frieda was aware that Betty had leaned forward and rested her hand on her left knee. Frieda stiffened. The hand was moving higher. She felt her clit twitching again, and a moistening between her legs. The hand was between her thighs again, and Betty was leaning toward her, lips pursed for a kiss. As Betty's tongue forced itself past Frieda's lips, Frieda suppressed a groan. God, she had to live with this woman as a relative! Betty's fingers stroked Frieda's cuntlips, and she tingled. She shuddered guiltily, but with rising excitement as Betty's insistent fingers buried themselves in the warm, fur-edged gash of her cunt. Her breathing became heavier, and her legs spread apart, inviting Betty to do whatever she wanted.
CHAPTER THREE
Frieda paced her bedroom frantically like a tigress in heat. It had been two weeks since she had fucked her brother and let Betty gnaw on her clit. Since Betty had arrived, the entire house had been in such an uproar that she rarely saw her brother. Betty tried to make several advances, but Frieda pushed her off. Because her future sister-in-law didn't seem to mind the brushoffs, she was sure that Brian was keeping her well satisfied.
Goddamn them! Frieda thought jealously. They've got no right to leave me out! I want his cock stuffed inside me more than that fuckin' dyke does! Frieda felt her clit twitch angrily as soon as she thought of Brian's body crushing hers into the grass as his hard cock smashed and tore at her grasping pussy. She fell back on her bed. God, her cunt ached so much that she had to do something about it.
Reaching over to her right, Frieda slammed the door shut, then lay back and hiked up her skirt. She slid her ass back and forth against the sheets, feeling tne gradually slickening lips of her cunt massage her aching clit. Frieda brought her hand down to her pussy and used her fingers to spread the lips. In her mind she saw Brian crouching over her, his jerking cock leaking that precious man juice through the piss-slit, threatening to shoot load after load of thick, white-hot cum into the air and against her panting belly.
Frieda held her cuntlips apart while she slid her fingers into the hole, stirring them gently against the sides, stroking her twitching clit, then pulling them out, moistened with juice. She spread the pussy juice along the edges of her cuntlips, then trailed the finger slowly toward her asshole. She felt her asshole tremble as her finger approached, circled the brown, puckered edges, then slid back to the juice-saturated fur of her cunt. She moistened the cuntlips again, teasing her forefinger along the exposed opening, pressing gently into the soft, wet skin. Her fingernail scratched delicately at the rising hardness of her clit, making that piece of soft, sensitive pink flesh stand up. Her middle finger, meanwhile, slipped into the center of her pulsing cunt, working its way insistently, deeply into the warm, wet cavity.
Frieda closed her eyes, playing lingeringly with her aching clit, tickling, wiggling, squeezing, rubbing the miniature organ until her asscheeks were twitching automatically in a clenching and unclenching rhythm.
"Ohh, Brian, fuck me, stuff me with your prick, fill up my cunt with your cum," Frieda moaned softly as she tore away at her snatch.
"You're wasting energy if you do that alone," a voice said.
Frieda gasped and opened her eyes, terrified. Brian was standing next to her bed, kneading his stiffened cock that bounced excitedly three inches above her lips.
"I-I thought th-that you w-were ..." Frieda couldn't finish the sentence. She was racked by conflicting feelings of shame and a sudden surge of new passion to grab that cock and stick it in her cunt.
"Forget it," Brian said, shutting the door and turning the lock. "You forgot, little sister, that I'm damned persistent," he said as he pulled off his undershirt. Frieda stared at his broad, muscular shoulders that gleamed with perspiration. Involuntarily, her hand moved back to her cunt, and gently stroked the edges of its lips, her clit responding twitchingly with each caress.
"I haven't had a chance to get to you 'til now, so strap yourself down!"
Slowly but methodically, Brian moved his powerful hands to the button of his Levi's and pushed it through the hole. Frieda's stare fell back to her brother's jerking cock.
"Maybe you need more inspiration," Frieda said coyly, quickly removing the light summer frock she had been wearing. Because of the hot weather lately, she made it a habit not to wear bras and panties. In one rapid movement she was naked, her big tits heaving up and down, their nipples drawn taut by the excitement Frieda was creating for herself by stroking her cunt.
Oh Jesus! Frieda thought. I want to run my tongue along his thick cock! Involuntarily she ran her tongue over her lips. Brian knew what she was thinking, and lowered his hand to his prick and started pumping it slowly. The cockhead suddenly grew purple and swelled. Drops of juice oozed from the piss-slit, threatening a sudden eruption.
"All for you, Sis," he moaned as he opened his Levi's completely.
"P-please," Frieda pleaded, feeling her clit twitch violently, helplessly as she longed to feel Brian heaving his body on top of hers.
"Ready?" he asked, dropping his Levi's to the floor, and letting go of his stiff cock.
Frieda nodded and spread her thighs apart to welcome her brother's prick. Then he was on top of her. His cock teased, poked, tickled the hairs of her cunt as it pushed gently against her sweating, trembling cuntlips. Frieda could feel the regular pulsing of her brother's cockhead, and wondered how he could restrain himself for so long. She was nearly out of her mind with passion, and slid her ass down the sweat-dampened sheets suddenly, impaling herself on Brian's cock. Then, the rest of his prick slid easily into her without resistance, and her cunt walls closed around the thick shaft, squeezing, crushing, twisting itself like a mouth trying to suck the cum from his swinging balls.
"Oh, yes!" Frieda cried again and again as he sucked her tits, bit her shoulder, moved his cock in and out of her cunt. She moaned each time he reached between their bodies to fondle her fluttering clit.
He opened his eyes once and stared into hers; then he closed his eyes again, and she closed hers. The only thing she saw was the picture in her mind of his cum-swollen cock sliding in and out of her stretched, aching cunt.
Soon her mind was blank and her thoughts wouldn't come. There was nothing but a great all-enfolding blackness around her...the blackness and the ecstasy that drummed into her cunt with each twat-smashing lurch Brian made into her. Frieda involuntarily squirmed her ass on the sheets, screwing her sweating ass cheeks into the creaking bed, twisting the juiced walls of her cunt around the driving fuck piston that slid violently back and forth in her.
Suddenly Frieda felt Brian pull out. She opened her eyes and saw her brother towering above her, propped on the bed on all fours.
"What did you do that for?" she gasped.
"I want you to blow me," Brian said.
"But, I thought..." Frieda began.
"Look, I mean, if you don't want to do it, I'll just get up and ..."
Frieda understood what he meant and grabbed his asscheeks, pdlling his cock toward her tips. Brian guided his prick to her mouth, and without further conversation he began thrusting while she began sucking. It was a real oral fuck, not just a blowjob with the male partner playing a passive role; no, Brian was an aggressive partner, and lie moved his cock in and out while Frieda sucked on it and covered it with saliva.
The knob was so thick, so large and meaty. She dug her teeth into the groove behind it at one point, but let go when Brian tugged as if to say that it was time to retreat. He plunged back and forth in Frieda's mouth until she thought she would choke on her own saliva, which was building up, thanks to the size of his cock. Frieda suddenly applied all the suction she could muster up, and Brian let out a groan. He shoved his cock in again, bouncing its knob off the roof of her mouth. Frieda sucked again, almost as hard as before, and on impulse she reached for his heavy, hanging balls, seizing the scrotum in her right hand and rolling the balls from side to side. Brian whimpered. God! She'd learned how to master her superstud brother! Frieda giggled and rolled his balls to and fro, but now Brian caught control of himself and let out a grunt as he pulled his cock from her slick-lipped mouth.
Brian didn't give her time to wonder what was coming next. He simply moved his face to her cunt, stuck his tongue into her snatch, and made her cry out with rising need as his tongue drew back and upward to stroke her swollen clitoris. Oh, God! She wanted to be fucked, couldn't bear to wait much longer. When Brian's tongue slid down toward her asshole, she almost screamed for her brother to fuck her.
He had her cuntlips in his teeth and he was tugging on them; at first it hurt, but then the tugging seemed to do something to her nerve endings, and she lifted her ass off the bed in a silent plea for more of the same. Frieda could feel her brother's heaving breathing on her snatch; then he was moving downward again, running the tip of his tongue along her cuntlips to her asshole, and she cried out in shameless delight. And when his tongue tried to enter her asshole, the words
"FUCK ME, BRIAN!" exploded from her mouth.
He was moving over her. His cock was bouncing against her thigh. Now it was pushing up against her pubic hair again, seeking her cunt. She reached under her upraised left thigh and found the prick with her fingers, then guided it back to her puffy, parted cuntlips. He was pushing forward, trying to get his cock in, but the muscles around the cunt's opening had tightened up again with excitement.
Relax, Frieda told herself. The cockhead was shoving, pushing, thrusting against the taut membranes and then, suddenly, Frieda's cunt went soft again and the prick slid in with an audible squish, and Frieda sighed.
"Yes," she whispered to Brian. She wanted to tell him that it was nice, that she was already responding to the steady thrusting of his cock, but he was breathing too hard to listen or even to hear her if she'd shouted it out; he was wrapped up in his own sexual excitement.
Already she could feel the surges of sensation in clitoris and cuntlips; already her asshole was tightening the way her cunt would tighten as the moment of climax approached; already her tits were swollen, her belly flushed, her head dizzy with the incredible ecstasy of being expertly fucked by her brother.
"FUCK ME!" she cried several times as she twisted her hips from side to side and dug her heels into the bed. "Fuck me!" she whimpered as Brian dug his teeth into the nipple of her right tit.
She could feel the muscles of his lower back and asscheeks stiffen beneath her massaging fingers; he was going to come. She screamed silently, and began to rock her. hips faster as Brian took a rasping breath and plunged even deeper toward the end of her cunt.
Fuck me! Oh, I've got to cum! Don't finish before me...I can't stand not to cum! Oh, God, you 're going to shoot! I can feel your cock swelling and jerking...oh, noooo .. .
But she made it just in time; Frieda felt her cunt tighten in a spasmodic contraction just as the first spurt of cum broke loose from his pounding cock. She could feel the prick's muscles twitching inside her pussy hole, andf she could hear his steady grunts and gasps. "I'm cuming," Frieda whispered to herself; then the whisper turned to a scream, a loud and piercing screech of delight that seemed to drive Brian to greater heights of ecstasy so that he sank his teeth into her shoulder and pounded harder, deeper into her cunt. He was squirting vast gobs of cum into her hole; he was making himself heard with choking cries that sent delighted shudders through Frieda's spine, and by the time he had slumped into exhaustion on top of her body, she had reached her peak, also.
A few minutes later he insisted on licking her clean. Frieda giggled when he stuck his tongue into her cunt, because his fast, flicking action tickled as well as excited.
They took a shower together, smearing soapy lather over each other's organs and assholes until they were horny all over again. Brian turned off the water and pushed Frieda out of the shower enclosure. He dried his cock and her cunt with a towel and told her to bend forward, which she did. Frieda felt her brother's stiffening cock brush against her asscheeks, and her cunt trembled in response. She was so incredibly horny these days. Maybe it had something to do with the idea of losing her brother...of enjoying a forbidden fruit for as long as she could. Suddenly, she felt Brian pull away and utter a low groan. Opening her eyes, she saw that the bathroom door had swung open, and lying on the bed, naked, was Betty.
"Well, I often wondered about those brotherly talks you kept telling me you wanted to have with Frieda. I had no idea that they ever got this involved."
Frieda grabbed the fallen towel and wrapped it around her as best she could. Betty looked at Brian and his sister, then laughed loudly.
"Oh, come on! Do you think I'm stupid? I could hear the two of you screaming, grunting and moaning all over the house! Thank God nobody else was around. Sorry, kids, but the cat's come out of that old bag."
Frieda wondered what she meant by that, then noticed that Betty slowly moved her hands across her stomach, down toward her twisting thighs, her fingers crawling like spiders, jerking and trembling. She rolled her hips slowly, at first, then in a series of rapid, suggestive bumps. Her body began to writhe sensuously, and she inhaled deeply through her clenched teeth as she plunged a finger between her clenched cuntlips. Betty uttered a shrill cry and wormed her hips lasciviously, holding her hand tightly against her cunt.
Frieda guessed what Betty wanted, and she wasn't sure that she could go along with a three-way. Oh sure, she'd been in the sack with both of them, and enjoyed herself almost equally with both. But to roll around with both at the same time! It seemed somehow too public, and she felt ashamed.
"Come here, lover," Betty hissed. Frieda wasn't sure who she was referring to. She turned to Brian and saw that his cock was back to its steely length. He walked up to her and shoved his hot prick in her asscrack, pumping his hips back and forth as his cock sought relief by rubbing against his sister's ass.
"Let's go," he whispered, shoving Frieda forward. Frieda felt as though she was moving in a dream. This couldn't be happening! It was all a nightmare. She stared at Betty, who had closed her eyes. She was moaning softly to herself, strumming her swollen clit with her thumb and forefinger as her ass slid back and forth against the cum- and sweat-stained sheets that she and Brian had fucked on minutes before. Frieda could smell the odor of hot cunt juice wafting from between her swollen pussylips. Over and over again Betty thrust her cunt against the makeshift cock of her fingers.
Frieda began to feel a responding twitch in her clit, a desire to stick her tongue between Betty's trembling cuntlips, wrap her lips around her twitching clit and suck her silly.
"Goddamn it, somebody, do SOMETHING!" Betty cried out desperately, working herself dangerously close to orgasm.
"Let's go," Brian said, moving around Frieda and almost leaping on top of the squirming Betty. Almost immediately he started biting her nipples, reaching down with his right hand and sticking his forefinger deep into the soft, hot and wet cunt Betty had been finger-fucking herself. Frieda felt like a robot; as though some force had moved her forward, she was on the bed, crouching over Betty's face, dangling her thick, bushy pussy hair inches above the girl's nose. Betty lifted her head and started licking the trembling cuntlips.
Frieda opened her eyes and saw Brian stop sucking his future wife's tits and begin to give the moaning girl a hot tongue bath. She felt Betty's tonguing become more frantic, probing, pushing deeper and deeper into her cunt, running under and around her swelling clit until she responded by pumping her thighs up and down rapidly, smashing her cunt down hard on Betty's face.
Frieda saw that Brian had already slid down to Betty's cunt and was gnawing on her slick pussy. He clung to her when she jerked up from the electric contact of his lips. Betty lifted and tilted her pelvis, offering her cunt to his mouth and tongue. She spread her legs wide while she continued to tongue Frieda's pumping cunt.
Suddenly Brian pulled away from Betty's cunt, reached over and pulled Frieda down on the bed next to the girl. In seconds he was lying between her outstretched thighs, his fingers in her crack and his tongue moving up and down on her clitoris. His movements were slow, languorous, and Frieda sighed deeply. This was the way sex was meant to be enjoyed, she thought as she reached over to touch Betty. To her surprise, Frieda realized that Betty was no longer next to her but above her, as she had been above the girl before. If she had had any reservations about eating her future sister-in-law before, she had none now. Brian was working her into such a frenzy that nothing seemed wrong to her. He'd taken her clit in his front teeth and tugged on it delicately. Brian was drawing the exposed bud of her clit into the tiny space created by his pursed lips. He was sucking, sucking gently, then letting his teeth move forward to grasp the clit in another delicate tugging.
Frieda shivered, then raised her head to meet Betty's fluttering cuntlips. She stuck her tongue deep into Betty's cunt and touched the clit with a hesitant finger and let her other hand crawl toward Betty's asshole where she shoved it in. Frieda felt Betty stiffen, then heard her moan audibly and crash her thighs down hard against her mouth.
Brian was licking her inner lips now, moving his tongue along the glistening surfaces until he reached their lowermost junction, at which point he began to slide his tongue back and forth on the narrow ridge of flesh between her cunt and asshole so that Frieda couldn't help lifting her hips to help him as he moved back, back toward her freshly scrubbed asshole.
Frieda felt like a sex machine. Every square inch of her body was on fire. Her mouth, her asshole, her cunt, all were areas of high excitement as both Betty and Brian were doing their best to drive her to sexual heights she never dreamed of.
Brian stuck his tongue into the taut, puckery asshole, spreading a trail of saliva, attempting to dilate the sphincter. Finally he gave up and moved his mouth back to her cunt, stabbing his tongue into the slick gash of her opening. He was licking her clit the way she was tonguing Betty's, slobbering on her inner lips, poking his tongue into the hot interior of her pussy, moving his body to the left so that he was straddling her leg with his cock pressing against her, all stiff and dribbling and eager.
Betty groaned, then uttered a cry of delight after Frieda had attacked the clit more vigorously than before, making the girl whimper from the suction. She was going to give Betty the same treatment Brian was giving her. The idea excited Frieda almost into cumming. She tried to put together a mental picture of the three of them, sucking, tonguing, fingering, fucking one another, sweat dripping from one body on to another, the spit- and perspiration-slickened flesh of all three of them sliding and bouncing together on top of her groaning bed.
Brian shifted his face slightly, pushing his nose into her cunt this time, poking forward until his nose was buried deep between the lips of her pussy. He was inhaling, exhaling, drawing the moisture from her cunt and redepositing it as a hot, damp vapor that made her shudder with growing desire.
His hands were under her asscheeks, digging into the firm flesh and holding the cheeks apart so that the air of the room rushed up her asshole; his thumb was between her asscheeks now, seeking her asshole and moving inside, stretching the sphincter until it almost hurt, giving his sister a gloriously exquisite sensation.
"Hurry, oh God, hurry up!" Betty moaned. Frieda moved her mouth away from the dripping pussy for a second.
"For God's sake, Brian, FUCK ME!" Brian unclasped his thighs from around her leg and moved between her outstretched knees. His prick soon touched her crotch, and Frieda reached down as best she could to guide it into position. The cockhead was incredibly hot and hard, engorged with blood to the point where it throbbed almost to the point of bursting. Frieda happily guided the knob between her cuntlips as she returned to finish the job she had begun on Betty. She whimpered joyously as she felt the prick dilating the tight, quivering membranes of her cunt.
She felt wonderfully stretched, delightfully stuffed by his thrusting, twisting, trembling cock. The prick felt like a fist inside her. Frieda had never been this excited before, and she reached up and dug her nails into Betty's sweating, trembling thighs. She felt a spasm in the girl's crotch, and then another, and suddenly her cunt broke loose into a long, twitching series of contractions so powerful that she nearly threw herself off the bed. Frieda was inundated with a fresh torrent of cunt juice.
The fact that Betty was cumming drove her to the edge. Brian groaned and reached down to seize her clit between two fingers. When he stroked it she cried out, her cries muffled by the trembling lips of Betty's tongue-fucked cunt. When her brother began strumming it in a steady musical rhythm, she began to whimper uncontrollably. God, she was getting so close, so wonderfully close, that she felt she could crush Betty's quivering thighs with her bare hands.
"Now, NOW!" Brian cried, his body stiffening while he smashed his crotch violently, almost angrily at her cunt. She could feel him begin to fire his cum into the warm, slick, fluttering recesses of her welcoming pussy, and her brother's orgasm triggered her own violent climax.
When she awoke, Brian was sitting beside her, stroking her cunt almost absent-mindedly, and his fingers created some very enjoyable sensations between her thighs. Frieda smiled, blinked her eyes, and leaned over to kiss him.
"Hey, not in front of the in-laws," she heard Betty say. Frieda looked up to see the girl coming out of the bathroom, toweling herself off.
"Nothing like a hot shower after a steamy three-way." Frieda felt herself blushing. Even though she had enjoyed what had happened, she still felt uneasy that her brother knew about her and Betty, and that Betty knew about her and Brian. It was very confusing, and Frieda wasn't certain just how it would all come out.
"Say, you should do something about these lights," Betty said, pointing at the two overhead lamps. "I thought I saw them flashing while we were at it. I think they might've burned out."
"It's cloudy out, but I didn't have them on," Frieda said, moving around her brother to get off the bed. She tried the wall switch, and the lights flashed on.
"That's odd. I could've sworn that I saw a couple of flashing lights," Betty said.
"You did," Brian joked, "in your head, while you were fucking Frieda's nose."
"Very funny. Then I suppose that ladder's in my head." Brian and Frieda looked toward the window Betty was pointing to. Leaning against the sill, they saw a stepladder placed against the outside wall, the top of which rested just under the window.
"That wasn't there when I came in," Brian said.
Frieda looked at her brother, then at Betty. Who could have put it there, and for what reason? An idea came into her head that made her shake with fear, but she decided not to say anything to either of them unless her suspicions were proven.
CHAPTER FOUR
Frieda rolled over on her stomach and unfastened the top of her two-piece blue bathing suit. She had just come out of the pool, and decided to dry off on the air mattress in the hot sun. Brian, Betty and her mother had gone into town to do some shopping for the coming bridal shower, and she wanted to stay at home and relax. Had Max been home, she would have had other thoughts. But he and his retarded son Tom were gone for the day, presumably fishing.
"Umm, that sun feels good," she said closing her eyes. Yesterday at this same time she, Betty and Brian were busy enjoying themselves in her bedroom. She could still feel Brian's probing tongue, sliding over her clit, his lips gently sucking at the tiny swollen knob, driving her up the wall. She could smell Betty's cunt juice leaking from between her fluttering pussy lips, could feel the mixture of saliva and juice trickle over her lips, into her mouth, down her cheeks. She could feel Brian's hands moving slowly up her legs, creeping toward her fuck-hungry cunt. ..
Suddenly Frieda realized that somebody was feeling her leg. Spinning around quickly she saw Max standing over her, leering at her exposed tits and rubbing a conspicuous bulge between his legs.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Frieda sputtered, grabbing her top and trying to cover her tits. Max reached out and grabbed the garment, tearing it away from her and throwing it into the pool. Frieda knew she was in trouble. "You're supposed to be fishing." "I am, I am," Max said. A twisted smile covered his face while he leered at her, fumbling at the bulge between his legs. "Want a feel?"
"You're disgusting," Frieda said, getting up and walking quickly toward the house. Max was too quick for her, however, and he grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her roughly to the ground.
"So, you're too good, eh? What's so classy about these?"
Frieda watched Max reach between the buttons of his shirt and pull out some photos. He threw them down to her and she gasped. They were photos of her, Brian and Betty fucking and sucking. So, she was right. Somebody had been taking pictures, and that somebody was Max! "H-h-how did y-you ..."
"Aw, shit, girl. I came in the house after Betty. She didn't see me, but I heard you and that fuckin' wimp of a brother of yours moanin' and groanin'. She knew what was happening, and so did I. It didn't take too much trouble to figure out the whole scene, and to get shots of it. I figured you'd all be so taken up with each other that you wouldn't notice a bomb going off."
Frieda stared at the photos for what seemed like hours. She wanted to as Max a question, but was afraid. Finally, she mustered the courage. "What do you want?"
Max threw back his head and laughed sadistically. "What do you think?" he said, leering at her bare tits. Frieda swallowed hard and looked away. If she gave in this one time, it would be no guarantee that he'd leave her alone in the future. But, she reasoned, she had no choice.
"O.K. Where do you want to go?" she said, trying not to appear too disgusted by the idea.
"Hold it, not so fast. You're not getting off that easily. You've been wiggling that twat around here like you're some kind of fuckin' princess or something when you're just a two-bit bitch! You're gonna pay for that, slut, and pay good. Get the fuck up and follow me!" Max commanded roughly.
Frieda was terrified. This was a new side of Max, an aspect of his personality that frightened her. He had always been a lecher, but now he was brutal. She followed her stepfather into the house and down the kitchen stairs into the basement. It was dark, but she could sense that there was somebody there besides the two of them.
"Who's there?" Frieda asked nervously.
"Unnnh!" was the reply. Frieda's blood ran cold. She recognized the grunt as her stepbrother's voice...Tommy, a twenty-year-old man with an eight-year-old mind. Suddenly, she knew what Max wanted. He was going to force her to fuck Tommy. The idea of fucking him shook her with revulsion.
"Poor Tommy here doesn't have the advantages some of us do. But, he's got all the natural urges. Frieda, as his stepsister, you should help him out." Max spoke softly as he walked slowly around her, tracing his right forefinger along her bare back and sides. Frieda's eyes had become adjusted to the darkness now, and she saw Tom sitting in a chair, fingering his limp cock and staring at her hungrily.
"I told Tom what to expect. You can see he's ready."
Jesus, she thought, looking at her stepbrother. Tom sat there smiling stupidly at her, a tiny river of spittle dribbling out of one comer of his mouth and down his cheek.
"Blow him!" Max ordered.
Frieda couldn't believe what she had heard.
"I..." Frieda felt a heavy hand slap her across the shoulders and down to the floor.
"Blow him, I said." Frieda started to get up, but Max shoved her back onto the floor. "On your knees. I want you to crawl the rest of the way."
Frieda looked up and saw Max's threatening face. "All right," she said finally.
God! What complete humiliation. She scraped her knees raw on the cement floor crawling over to Tom. Finally she was within only inches of his cock. It had swollen somewhat since she had last looked at it. Tom pointed to his prick and started jumping up and down, moaning in delighted expectation, Frieda shuddered and bent forward. It was uncircumcised, and a leathery sheath of skin covered most of the knob. Frieda took the prick in her right hand and pinched it gently. She glanced up at Tom; he was already smiling beatifically, and his eyes were closed. Holding his cock between two fingers of her right hand, she pushed the foreskin back with the thumb and index finger of her left. The cockhead was ruddy and glistening with something, probably sweat; she didn't like the idea of putting it in her mouth, but she'd already surrendered, and she certainly didn't have much choice now.
"Aaaah," Tom groaned as she slipped her mouth over the moist cockhead.
The prick was becoming rigid now, and its stiff length was pressing against the roof of her mouth, forcing its knob against the soft tissues at the back of her throat. She slid her tongue to and fro along the prick's underside, stroking the skin and searching for the ropelike veins.
"His balls," Max said hoarsely. "Put your hand under his balls." Frieda looked up and saw that Max had whipped out his cock and was stroking it furiously as he watched her suck off his son.
Oh my God, a father and son act, she thought as she sucked harder, squeezed harder, and let a finger slide toward the boy's asshole to get him more excited, to hurry him up, to get his cum out of his balls and onto her tongue so that she could release the ugly cock from her mouth. Her left hand got back into action, its fingers digging between his asscheeks while the fingers of her right hand moved back to the boy's balls and stroked for a minute before wandering up to the base of his cock and forcing their way into her mouth so that she was fingering and sucking his cock at the same time. Tom was groaning more loudly now; he liked it, all right. Frieda sucked hard, pushing the foreskin back and forth with her tongue's tip, tugging gently on the scrotum and going back to the asshole to poke some more and, oh God, she could feel his ass rising off the chair; she could tell that his muscles were stiffening and his breath was coming in short gasps, and now he was digging his fingernails into her scalp and slamming his cock hard against the back of her throat.
"Oh no, Tommy. Remember, Daddy told you Frieda had a special surprise for you, and this isn't it," Max said as he pushed his reluctant son away from her. "Take off those bottoms, and get on your back, bitch," Max commanded. Tom stood like a hungry, mindless animal ready to mount her, his cock jerking crazily in the air while Max stood opposite him, pumping his own cock frenziedly.
"Go on," he urged, "climb on top of her, just like I told you."
Tom quickly lay on top of her, grunting, drooling, pumping away at her cunt like some mechanical man.
At first he just wiggled over her body, pawing her indiscriminately and rubbing his cock against anything it was touching at the time. Frieda prayed he would just cum on her leg, and she tried to help him along by rubbing her thigh on his cock.
"Oh no you don't," Max said warningly, bending down and pushing her legs up. "Keep 'em there," he ordered, bending down again and guiding Tom's pulsing cock into Frieda's cunt. She cringed as the pain shot through her loins; she wasn't ready, she wasn't slippery yet, and the friction of cock against delicate membranes was almost too painful to bear. She looked him in the face; he didn't seem to notice her. Tom's eyeballs were nearly completely rolled up into his head, and his mouth hung open stupidly, emitting only guttural grunts of animal delight. He merely pumped away, one-two, one-two, pumped like a piston in a cylinder, looking like he could go for a hundred miles without an orgasm. He speeded up slightly as Frieda's cunt became wetter, but showed no visible signs of excitement other than his grunting.
Frieda closed her eyes and tried to pretend that the cock inside her was Brian's, plunging, probing, digging deeper and deeper inside her cunt until she thought he'd break through to her womb. She could feel the smooth, slick flesh of her pussy holding him in, sucking, twisting and pulling all around his hot, throbbing prick. Shoving up with her twisting thighs, she impaled herself on his jamming cock, and it stabbed back into the depths of her cunt. Almost savagely, she could feel him crash down on her, pounding her ass solidly against the floor.
She smelled her cunt juice. Opening her eyes, Frieda realized that she was excited. The memories had done that, she realized; thinking of Brian had made her excited. She clamped her cunt muscles tightly around Tom's prick, hoping it would help him cum. She took a deep breath and began to rock her hips to and fro.
"Unnngh!" Tom cried, feeling himself driven near the edge of climax. Max realized this, and bent down low over Frieda's face, dangling his purple-tipped cock inches above her nose. She tried to turn her face away from the prick, but Max forced her to look at it.
"See it? It won't get into you today, but soon, honey, soon."
At that point she felt Tom stiffen, then slam his body hard against hers. He opened his mouth and let out a long, loud groan as his body shook violently from side to side. Frieda ground her thighs together to milk out the last drops of cum that shot from her stepbrother's swinging balls.
No sooner did Tom stop shooting than Frieda felt something hot and sticky splashing across her face. She looked up and saw Max's cockhead spitting wads of thick, sticky cum into the air, only to come splashing down on her neck and face.
"Unngh! Oh, God, get it away!" she cried, vainly turning her head from side to side, trying to avoid the disgusting shower of jism. Max laughed and groaned alternately, enjoying the spectacle of watching his idiot boy shooting his wad into Frieda and his cum splattering on Frieda's writhing body.
"Now, there, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Max said, flipping his cock back into his pants. Frieda refused to answer, turning her head to the other side. Tom still lay on top of her, grunting approval, not realizing the pain and humiliation he had caused his stepsister.
"O.K., Tommy, the game's over," Max said, trying to pry his son off the girl.
"Nuugh!" he protested, clinging to her as if she were a lifeboat in the ocean. She struggled under his heavy weight, trying to free herself from his grip. The boy finally relented, pulling his soft cock out of Frieda's protesting cunt, looking at her admiringly all the time. Frieda felt sorry for him and disgusted at the same time. After all, it wasn't his fault. He was just doing what he'd been told would be all right. It was Max she had to fear, Max she had to look out for. And she knew he wasn't through with her yet.
"Get off her!" Max shouted again, pushing Tom roughly off Frieda and sending him crashing against the concrete block wall. Towering over him like a crazed gorilla, Max started beating Tom until Frieda thought he would kill him. Forgetting that it was Max's victim who had just raped her, Frieda got up quickly from the floor and looked around in the semidarkness for a weapon, anything to stop the vicious beating. Her eyes landed on one of Brian's old leather belts, the kind he used to wear when he went camping in the mountains. It had a large, tarnished brass buckle at one end. Grasping the tail of the belt in her right hand, Frieda stretched her arm back as far as she could, then snapped it forward, sending the heavy buckle crashing against her stepfather's right ear. Dazed, he stopped his beating and fell to his knees.
"Come on, Tommy," she said quietly, stretching her hand forward to help him. But before the boy could reach out for her, Max had recovered and grabbed Frieda.
"So, you want to play games with him, eh? He listens to me, not to anybody else."
"You can't go around here bullying, beating and raping anybody you want," Frieda said defiantly, trying to break Max's iron grip on her wrist.
"So who's to stop me . . . you? You forget those pictures."
Frieda stopped struggling. She was defeated, sickened by the remembrance of those photos of her, Brian and Betty.
Max grabbed the belt that hung limply from Frieda's hand, then pushed her away. In the background they could hear Tommy whimpering in the corner. Frieda didn't like the way he kept flicking the belt in her direction.
"What's that for?" she asked.
"It's for your little ass, baby. Turn around.
"Max, I..."
"TURN AROUND!"
Frieda took a deep breath, then managed to turn away from him. She stepped back as Max moved toward her. He laughed and hit her with the belt. She could feel the welt forming where the belt struck her, and she tried not to look frightened as she clutched the wounded arm.
"I'm going to start up there," he said, indicating her right shoulder by rubbing the edge of the belt against it, "then work down to your pretty ass."
"Don't, please Max, I'll do anything, but..."
"Bend over, Goddamn it!"
"Please!"
"Bend over so I can whip your fuckin' ass, bitch!" Max shouted, moving forward threateningly.
Frieda was tempted to run and look for something to kill Max. But then she might not succeed in getting rid of him, and would only make him more angry. God only knew what he'd do to her then!
Frieda reluctantly did as she was told. She bent forward, resting her hands on her knees and closing her eyes as she awaited the belt's stinging blow. She cried out when the leather dug into the soft flesh of her upper back; she whimpered almost silently as she heard Max chuckle. Then he was lashing at her again, and again, and again, drawing blood and creating welts and making her cry out with pain.
It was at that point that they heard a car drive past the basement windows toward the garage. Ifs Brian! Thank God! Frieda thought, and sank to her knees in relief. Max stood quietly for several seconds, debating on his next course of action.
"All right. Get up! You got away with it this time, but there'll be others, baby. You're not gonna act so high and mighty around me any more, or them pictures are gonna get around, unner- stand?"
Frieda had rarely felt such loathing and disgust as she now experienced while listening to Max. He had the three of them under his control, and there was little she could do about it. If she kept quiet and submitted to Max, maybe he'd leave the others alone. She hated to drag Betty into this mess, and to do it to Brain! She shuddered to think what Max might have in store for him if she told her brother and he tried to interfere. In the end, Frieda nodded her head in assent.
"Good. Now get your things back on. And remember, not one word about what happened." Frieda started to get her briefs on when Max stopped her.
"Those welts are gonna show." He looked around the basement and found an old bathrobe, one her mother used to wear years ago when her real father was alive. "Here, toss this on. And don't show anybody those marks!"
"How can I take a shower, or wear a low-back dress, or..."
"That's your problem. Now get out of here!" Picking up her bathing suit top quickiy, Frieda wrapped the robe around her injured body and sprang up the stairs as quickly as she could. She had just made the stairway to the upstairs bedrooms when Brain, Betty and her mother walked in. Max was just coming up out of the basement with Tom.
"Well, Frieda!" her mother exclaimed. "What ever are you doing in that old thing?"
Frieda looked puzzled, and noticed that Betty and Brian sensed that something was wrong. She had to play it cool, or Max would make reprisals. Maybe even on her mother!
"Oh, just rummaging around. I forgot about your bathrobe. I need something comfortable I can schlock around in. This robe's perfect for that." She tried to be casual, hiding the stinging pain that racked her body.
Brain stepped forward and looked intensely at Frieda, then back at Max.
"Oh Frieda, before I forget, we all decided in town that we'll have a picnic right after the bridal shower," her mother chirped, beaming brightly at both Brian and Betty.
"A picnic?" Frieda asked, stopping at the top of the stairs.
"Yes, you know, sort of an informal thing after all that gift-giving. Instead of having everybody sitting around the living room, well go out by the clearing near the woods and have some good old-fashioned barbecue."
Frieda's mind flashed back to the woods, to several weeks ago when she and Brian had discovered their feelings for one another. A warm, tingling feeling spread from her crotch to all parts of her body, and immediately she forgot about those painful marks on her back and ass. Again she felt Brian's cock poking insistently at her juice-slicked cuntlips, his hands clasping her tits, teasing the taut brown skin of her nipples as she wiggled her ass back and forth on the ground, trying to work her cunt around her brother's purple cockhead. She looked at her brother, and his stare made something happen in Frieda's crotch. Oh God, she was dripping cunt juice. Could her mother smell it? She felt something trickle down her right thigh, and thanked God she had on the robe.
"Sounds great," Frieda said as cheerfully as she could, walking toward her bedroom. She looked back briefly to see Max sneering up at her as if to try to see under the robe.
CHAPTER FIVE
The days dragged by for Frieda, who expected some comment or command from Max at any minute. He was crude and sadistic enough to drop something at the dinner table, something that she knew Brian would catch in a hurry. She dreaded every time she had to have dinner with the family, knowing that Max was staring at her, planning something for her. Tommy sat sullenly at his end of the table, always watching Max intently. Frieda was never sure whether it was fear or hate that lit up her stepbrother's eyes, but she knew it wasn't respect or love for his father. Several times she tried to talk to him, but he just turned away as though she were going to hurt him. And, indirectly, she had. He still had a few marks from that beating Max had given him in the basement. Frieda wondered if everyone believed the story Max had told them that Tommy had fallen down the stairs. It was so hokey that they probably did! Her mother certainly wasn't perceptive, and Brian and Betty never seemed to notice Tommy around. Neither had Frieda, until she had no choice. Now, she thought of making him her ally, someone who, if she played her cards right, might be able to help her when she needed it. Putting the rape out of her mind as best she could, Frieda talked to Tommy more frequently, being careful not to arouse him for another basement scene. That, she didn't need.
As a result, Tommy was scampering around the house the day of the bridal shower like a happy eight-year-old, trying to help Betty, Frieda and her mother in any way he could. He probably doesn't even realized he committed a sex act, she thought as she handed her stepbrother some barbecue sauce to take out to the clearing for the picnic. He beamed at her as though he had been given the highest honor possible, then ran quickly out the door.
"Looks like he's got a crush on you, Frieda," Betty said jokingly, patting her on the ass as she walked by. The words weighed heavily on Frieda's mind, dredging up the horrible memory of her rape. She lifted her hand as if to brush away the memory, and busied herself in getting the living room ready for the guests.
In an hour some guests began arriving... neighbors, and friends of Betty's whom Frieda looked over closely.
"Frieda, have you seen Betty? The guests are coming, and she should be here to welcome them," her mother said to her quietly. Frieda said that she thought Betty was upstairs getting ready, and that she'd run up to tell her that people were beginning to arrive.
The door to their bedroom was slightly ajar, and Frieda didn't think twice about announcing herself. As she put her hand on the doorknob to open it, she heard heavy breathing. Then there was another sound: a heavy sigh, followed by a long, choking moan. Frieda lifted her eyebrows in surprise. Could it be that Brian was in the room fucking her? Jealousy and desire swept over her like a tidal wave, and she opened the door a crack to see what was going on.
What she saw surprised her. Betty was standing in front of the full-length mirror wearing only her
blue bra and panties. She reached back to unsnap her bra. She let the bra fly open on her back, and then moved both hands to her neck. Slowly, sensuously, she ran her fingers along her neck, fingering her almost translucent flesh delicately. She continued to run her index fingers down toward the bra that now hung loosely on her tits. With every move she made Betty let out a low groan, grinding her hips back and forth slightly, obviously trying to scratch a very itchy clit.
Betty fingered the top of the bra, then pushed it down, jerking it off dramatically as if she knew Frieda was watching her. Frieda smelled cunt juice in the air, and wondered it if were hers or Betty's. Her panties were soaked already, and she could see telltale puddles appearing in the crotch of the girl's frilly panties.
Betty cupped her small tits in her hands, then began slowly massaging them. She continued doing this until her eyes began to glaze over. Oh Christ, what am I doing? Frieda said to herself, realizing that she'd been running her hands over her own tits, squeezing the spongy flesh, tickling the taut skin of her erect nipples through her blouse. With each squeeze Frieda felt her cunt contract slightly, and she ached to have Betty's tongue flicking inside her, rubbing against her swollen clit, driving her up the wall.
Betty's hips began to churn back and forth. Then, as though spurred on by her own motion, she began to gyrate her ass. Suddenly she pulled her panties down to her ankles, reached between her thighs and, while continuing to rotate her ass back and forth, shoved her finger deep into her swollen cunt.
Frieda looked behind her nervously. No one was coming up the stairs. Quietly, she tiptoed to the top of the stairs and closed and locked the door, returning just as quietly to the slightly opened bedroom door. Frieda saw that Betty was still finger-fucking herself. Reaching down and hiking up her skirt, she grabbed her pink panties and slid them down, noticing the tiny trail of cunt juice that glistened down her legs. Then her hands moved to her wet cunt. She found her hungry slit hot and tingling, the lips of her cunt dripping and swollen. She grabbed her wet, sensitive clit between her forefinger and thumb, then plunged three fingers of her other hand into her cunt. She writhed and twisted in this position, watching Betty's gyrations becoming more frenzied as she obviously was catapulting herself toward climax. Frieda's itching, throbbing clitoris responded in tingling spasms as she continued stroking it between her fingers.
Suddenly she saw Betty's body grow rigid and vibrate. Frieda felt a sympathetic shudder begin at her toes. She wanted to head for a bed to find a comfortable position to continue, but her cum was approaching quickly, and then she was vibrating in the throes of her orgasm.
Betty groaned loudly, but Freida clenched her teeth, forcing herself to stifle the groans of delight that demanded to escape from between her teeth. Half the excitement was in her being unnoticed by Betty. Here she was, only a few feet away from her mother and a group of respectable guests downstairs munching on sandwiches, with her fingers up her twat, cunt juice streaming down the flushed skin of her thighs, watching her future sister-in-law finger-fucking herself in front of a mirror. She nearly laughed when she thought of it, but caught herself and backed away quietly.
Slipping back into her panties, Frieda walked back to the hall door, opened it, then walked back down the hall, making as much noise as she could so that Betty would know she was coming.
"Betty, Mom's wondering where you are and what's keeping you." Frieda heard the bathroom door slam as she entered the room. She smiled to herself.
"I just got through in the shower," Betty said.
"I'll be down in a second."
"Come down when you can...people are beginning to show," Frieda called out as she left. She felt a hundred feet high, the way she always felt after cumming. It wasn't the same as having cock jamming its way up your cunt, but it was better than nothing.
Frieda was chatting with one of the guests, a blonde with the big tits, when Betty came down and walked over to them. In an instant Frieda knew that the two of them were tonguing friends. There was something too soft, too intimate in the tone of their voices not to indicate that there was something between them. Then Frieda watched Betty move around the room to her other friends, and she noticed the same softness, the same intimacy she had shown with the big blonde.
As the afternoon passed, and as Betty opened one gift after another, Frieda's mind kept circling around Brian. She decided she would try to get together with him that night.
"Frieda, wake up!" her mother called to her. Frieda jerked her head and realized that the room was half empty. "We're going out for the picnic now. I swear, that girl's been going around like she's in a coma or something," her mother said lightly to Betty as she walked out the door.
"I'll be with you in a second," she called out as she went up the stairs to the bathroom. She closed and locked the door, and sat on the toilet. Her clit began to tingle as she thought of Betty, and she reached between her legs. Suddenly, her thoughts shifted and a picture of Brian lit up in her mind. Her cunt was already moist in anticipation of the evening she had planned for the two of them.
To lose Brian, even a little bit to Betty, bothered her. Ws probably all in my mind...hell never prefer her to me, she told herself. It was all her imagination, just as her mental image of his long, rigid cock was the product of her imagination, just as her vision of his prick spurting its wads of cream-colored jism into her mouth and cunt was no more than a figment of her imagination.
Her ass felt chilly against the cold toilet seat. But there was nothing chilly about her crotch...it was a pit of hot, steaming juices that were boiling and splashing against the walls of her cunt.
It was like the night of the graduation ball at the university. She'd had a date with Bill Greene, vice-president of the Students for Democratic Action, that night. They were both leaving the campus the next day. This would be their last time together, and Bill, she knew, would be trying to fuck her. She was no virgin, but Bill was someone special to her, and she was afraid that he'd grow tired of her if she passed her cunt to him on a silver platter the first night they went out. So she kept shoving him away, occasionally letting him grab a quick feel of her dripping snatch while she gently squeezed his eight-inch cock.
Bill was strong and tall and handsome, and had a jaw that jutted forward and prompted the less inhibited girls to giggle about what it might be like to have that hunk of bone digging into one's crotch. Bill was virile, or so the gossip had it; a boy who could make several touchdowns on the football field, dance with everyone at the post-game dance, and still have energy left over for three or four hours of fucking. And Bill was taking her, Frieda, to the ball.
It was a warm June night, a night when you could smell the flowers in the air and the crickets and other night animals and insects could be heard no matter where you walked. She was sitting in the living room of her sorority house, trying not to blush as the other girls, who were also waiting for their dates, smirked and whispered behind her back.
Eight o'clock. Time for Bill Greene to pick her up. There was a faint rumble of a car engine in the distance; the sound made something happen in Frieda's crotch, although it could have been one of the other girls' dates. There was Frieda, the picture of sophistication, dripping cunt juice into her panties. She was afraid to stand up, fearing that some would drip out and land in a tiny puddle on her foot.
The car pulled up to the house, and it was Bill. Frieda shuddered, but managed to stand up. She felt hot between her legs, her panties virtually soaked with juice, her face burning with desire, and perspiration beginning to bead on her forehead. The girls smiled strangely at her, but Frieda was only aware of Bill, the dark, sensuous night, the flutterings in her cunt.
They danced until two in the morning, then drove out in the country, walked hand-in-hand to a small grove of orange trees, then fucked until the first rays of the sun broke over the horizon. She'd never done it like that before, never felt the thrill she had when he slid his long dick into her taut cunt...when she cried out and moaned in ecstasy, shuddered and twitched with the excitement of it, with the romance of it, with the thrill of being fucked by this football star whose white dinner jacket lay under her hips, catching the sweat and cunt juice and cum.
Frieda took a deep breath to bring her mind back to the present. She quickly dabbed at her soaking crotch with a piece of toilet paper. She'd come in to take a pee, not thinking that she'd be playing with herself again. Frieda pissed, dabbed at her cunt again, stood up and drew her panties back up over her hips and exhaled.
When she went downstairs, she saw that everyone had gone out for the picnic. She amazed herself that she could take part in these pre-marriage celebrations and still be planning to fuck her brother that evening. She smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and pranced out the house to the gathering of women.
The chattering continued for what seemed like hours for Frieda. Every few minutes she would glance at her watch, hoping that six o'clock would come, for that was the time that Brian was scheduled to get back from an afternoon bachelor luncheon that was being hosted by some of his friends. Only four-thirty! She looked up and saw Betty nod with her head toward the woods, then get up and walk slowly toward the trees.
In a few minutes Frieda excused herself and followed Betty as inconspicuously as possible. She walked around in the leaf-filtered sunlight looking for her, until she spotted Betty kneeling by a small pond almost in the center of the woods.
"What did you want me for?" Frieda asked as she walked slowly over to Betty. She still saw her spread-legged in the bedroom, her head tossed back in ecstasy as she finger-fucked herself to an orgasm.
"There's something going on, isn't there?" Betty said seriously, staring up at her.
"Going on? What do you mean? Of course there's..."
"No, I don't mean that. I've been watching everybody lately. Brian's on edge, you're jumpy, Tommy's slinking around unless he's with you. And that Max!"
Frieda involuntarily shuddered. She could still see him crouching over her in the basement, his cock drooling out the last few drops of cum as the rest of it slid slowly down her face and neck to the cement floor.
"I thought so!" Betty said, observing Frieda's movement. "What happened between you and
Max."
Frieda, didn't want to involve Betty in this more than she had to, and so denied that anything had happened. Her denial, however, was half-hearted, and died on her lips before she finished the sentence. The horror of her situation suddenly hit her like a falling barbell, and she covered her face with her hands.
"Oh God. Oh my God, if you only knew," she moaned, falling to her knees. Betty came up to her and put her arm on Frieda's shoulder.
"Tell me," she whispered encouragingly. "If there's something wrong, two heads together are better than one. Maybe we can figure something out." Frieda thought that Betty might be right, and decided to tell her everything.
"Oh my God!" Betty exclaimed after hearing the story. "And he still has those pictures?"
"I think so. He hasn't given them to me, although I've looked all over for them when I could. I even asked Tommy if he's seen them, but I don't think he has."
"Whatever we do we can't let your mother or Brian know about this. I hate to think what would happen if they found out."
Frieda shuddered at the thought, then froze as she heard a voice come from behind the tree next to her.
"And nobody's gonna tell them anything as long as you cooperate."
Frieda jumped to her feet and spun around. Max was standing by the tree leering at both of them. Frieda sensed danger and tried to warn Betty.
"I think we'd better get out of here," she said softly to her, looking around like a trapped animal for the best way out. Max took a few steps forward then stopped.
"You ain't goin' anywhere. I told you I had more in store for you later. Well, now's as good a time as ever." Frieda's eyes opened wide as she saw Max drop his right hand to his crotch and cup it gently over his fly.
"Max, please, don't, not here..." Frieda began. But Betty had already taken action by stepping between her and Max.
"You're a sick old man, Max. You should be jerking off in toilets or somewhere else where you don't bother people. Leave us along and go play your games by yourself."
Max was taken aback by this sudden resistance to his authority. People usually obeyed him when he spoke. This was the first time a woman had stood up to him, and it infuriated him.
"Listen, you dyke, don't tell me what to do. I've got some pretty pictures of you and that bitch there suckin' each other's cunts, while her brother's trying to make up his mind which one of you he's gonna fuck."
Betty's eyes grew narrow with rage and she ran at Max with her hands stretched out. He braced himself for attack, then swung violently at her face, knocking her brutally to the ground.
Frieda started to run to help Betty, but Max grabbed her left arm and swung her around until she crashed into his protruding belly.
"We've got a few things to do, now," Max whispered hoarsely, pulling Frieda even closer and clamping his lips to hers. Frieda could tell that he wanted to hurt her, to humiliate her. He wanted to rape her, to sink his old withered cock into her young cunt. He wanted to humiliate her in a way that would really bite deep so that she couldn't possibly imagine that it was Brian between her legs. One of his hands was rolling at one of her huge tits, which for Frieda brought her back to the immediate danger of her situation. She tried not to vomit as Max's lips slithered over hers. She opened her mouth quickly, admitting Max's wiggling tongue, then clamped her teeth hard on it and his lower lip. He screamed, exhaling his putrid breath down her throat. Frieda fell backward with revulsion.
"You fuckin' bitch!" Max sputtered, holding one hand partly over his mouth. Frieda cowered only four feet in front of him, not knowing whether to run for help and leave Betty to whatever Max might do to her, or stay and fight. Frieda looked up and saw Max lunge at her. Before she could turn away, he had her by the throat and was choking her. Then he let go, and she fell helpless to the ground.
Struggling would do no good, she realized, but she felt she had to at least try to protect herself. Frieda tried to focus her eyes to see what Max was up to. She was propping herself up on her right elbow, rubbing her eyes with her left hand, when she felt a heavy weight force her hard against the ground.
The crushing weight of his body all over her and the pressure of his probing hands made it all but useless to resist. She felt one of his hands reach down between them and unzip his pants. In a second she could feel his hard cock as it jerked against the flesh of the inside of her right thigh. She knew that he was going to fuck her. She felt his juice-smeared cockhead slide slowly higher, higher up between her thighs and she gritted her teeth, trying to fight back the urge to be sick. She felt his cock probing, slipping between her legs.
"Unnnh!" she heard him grunt. His hands ran freely over her body, pulling up her skirt, pushing down her panties and stroking her black, wiry pubic hair, and she moaned in protest. Max mistook the moan for a sign of pleasure.
"I knew you'd love it, baby, once you got used to it. Old Maxie's gonna make you feel real fine, if you just behave."
Behave! I've got a choice? Oh Jesus, what's he doing? He's sliding down and . . . oh shit! He wants to eat me out! I've got to think of something else or I'll scream and everybody'll come running and then. . . oh God! It's Brian, Brian between my thighs, his tongue tickling my cuntlips. . . oh yesss!
"Oh God, that feels so gooood," she moaned softly, pushing her spit-soaked pussy into his face, hungrily jerking her thighs against his tongue, begging for more.
Her cunt exploded in waves of pleasure as Max's tonguing became more frenzied.
She felt a finger worming its way into her asshole. It jammed its way in like a torpedo, ramming up deep inside her, causing her to scream with ecstatic release.
Suddenly, the tongue and the finger shot out at the same time, and Frieda stopped her fantasizing. It wasn't Brian on top of her but Max. Max, her stepfather, her fat, ugly, beer-swilling bad-breathed stepfather who had dribbled his spit deep into her cunt. God! She wanted to grab anything...a rock, a knife...and throw it at him.
"Now for the best part!" Max trumpeted, throwing himself back on top of her and forcing her legs high into the air.
"Wh-what are y-you..."
"Shut up, bitch!" he answered angrily, raising his hand high and bringing it down against the right side of her face. Frieda thought she was going to lose consciousness. She decided it was useless to struggle or say anything. She felt his cock sliding into the junction of her cuntlips, sliding over the slick membranes to her opening, pushing into the hole.
"Aiyee!" Max cried, sounding like a dog being run over by a truck as he pumped his cock in her cunt. She could feel his body stiffening and his acrid breath coming in short gasps as his cum spurted into her cunt. At last he slowed down, and she thought that his climax was over, but he surprised her by coming back with greater force until he groaned with a sound Frieda recognized as a sign that it was all over.
Max pulled his softening cock from her cunt. She glanced at his face and saw how he was grinning stupidly and drooling out of the side of his mouth. She could feel the mixture of saliva, cunt juice and cum trickling down her thighs. She wished she could stick a garden hose between her legs and turn it on full force to clean herself out. "I told you you'd like it."
"I loved it, Max," Frieda said. She knew now that she had to do something to stop her stepfather. He would keep on molesting her and God knows who else until he was stopped somehow.
"Unnnh." Frieda remembered Betty when she heard her moan, and she rolled over until she rested by her side.
"Betty?" she whispered softly, taking her head in her hands. Betty's eyes fluttered open and she looked around questioningly. "It's all right, Max got what he was after. Hell leave us alone."
"For now, baby, for now. But I'd like to see the two of you in action some day. You know, just .like them movies, but youll do it in front of me, live!" he said, standing up, flopping his cock back into his pants. "Now you girls get back to the picnic. They'll think something happened to you." Max laughed as he turned and walked away.
"We've got to do something," Betty whispered to Frieda.
She knew Betty was right, but what could she do?
CHAPTER SIX
Three days after the bridal shower, Betty, Frieda and her mother were sitting in the kitchen having breakfast together. Frieda stirred her coffee absently, her mind occupied with possible ideas on how to deal with Max. Exposure was out of the question, at least for now. The scandal would ruin them all, and she didn't know how her mother would take it. How she could have married him she would never know! Didn't she see what he was really like? Frieda looked intently at her mother, who was busily reading the front page of the morning paper. No; intelligence and perception just weren't qualities that her mother had.
"Well, look at this!" her mother exclaimed.
"Hmmm?" Frieda mumbled, taking a sip of her coffee.
"You knew a Bill Greene, didn't you, Frieda?"
Frieda almost jumped out of her chair. Did she know a Bill Greene? My God, they had fucked themselves raw the night before their college commencement!
"Of course. We dated off and on at college. Why?"
"Well, it says here that he's coming to town to coordinate police efforts in the area to break up some kind of, oh my, prostitution and dope ring. Can you believe that? Right here!"
Frieda jumped out of her chair and ran behind her mother to see the article she was reading. Her eyes traveled slowly down the page until they landed on Bill's name. She was right! Bill was coming, was probably already there, up from Los Angeles where he'd been working on the vice squad, to help the local authorities bust up a ring of hookers and dopers working together in their neighborhood. The news was almost too good to be true! Suddenly Frieda felt a weight lifted off her mind. Here was someone to help her . . . Bill! She'd tell him everything. If anybody could help her, he could.
"What's the excitement, Frieda?" Betty asked, noticing her bright smile.
"Oh, this Bill Greene, we dated in college-serious, sort of, for a little while. In any case, I thought I'd look him up, maybe today, since he's in town."
"That would be nice, Frieda," her mother said. "After all, you should be thinking of getting married, now that Brian's going to. Just think...if you and Bill. .. why, that'd be three marriages in a row. Like good luck, or something."
"Not really, Mother. In any case, maybe he could help me out with a few problems."
"Problems? As if you could have any problems that would need his attention. He works with vice, Frieda, not parking tickets," her mother said, patting her daughter on the shoulder and continuing to read her paper. But Frieda had made up her mind. She looked over at Betty, who had guessed her intentions and nodded approval.
Frieda ran upstairs and tried to decide what to wear. Vllgo as Betty coed, she thought, pulling out a white wool sweater that was a size or two too small. Just right for him, she said to herself as she slipped it on.
In a matter of minutes she was back downstairs, kissing her mother goodbye. She knew that her outfit was appealing; Betty nearly leaped out of her seat and clamped her lips onto her tits.
On the way to the station Frieda thought of Bill. She wondered why he appealed to her more than other other guys she went out with, and came to the conclusion that he resembled her brother, Brian. The realization nearly made her go off the road. That's why the night of the graduation ball her cunt dripped juice over the dance floor; why she couldn't get enough of Bill's cock afterward. She couldn't have Brian then, so she settled for Bill.
Her clit tingled, and she remembered when Bill had first fucked her. He had plunged forward again and again, strumming her clit as if it were a guitar string. And whenever he touched the bud's sensitive tip, whenever he grasped it between two fingers and rolled it around like a pea, Frieda almost pissed on the grass.
Oh Jesus, I can smell cunt juice again, she thought as she turned into the drive of the police station. Before she climbed out of the car, Frieda ran a quick check of her skirt and legs.
If Betty's hanging tongue weren't enough proof that her outfit would turn heads...especially Bill's...the cops' looks as she walked by them to the information desk made her reasonably certain that she'd make the impression she wanted to on him.
"Bill Greene, please," she cooed to the sergeant at the desk who gaped at her protruding tits like an imbecile. "Uh, is Bill Greene in?" Finally, she reached him as she waved her hand in front of his face.
"Uh, what do you want, lady?"
"Bill Greene. Is he in?"
The sergeant smiled...it was more like a leer...and asked her in a sugary voice just who was calling.
"Tell him Frieda Thatcher. Hell know who it is."
He disappeared into a room to the left for a few seconds; then she heard the door open again. Frieda was truly elated as he stepped through the doorway, smiling at her. His eyes were still that misty blue-green, and glistening in a way that used to melt her cunt. He still had the same full shock of blond hair, the same slightly upturned nose, warm, relaxed, gentle mouth, and that jutting chin that all the girls used to joke about. The years had indeed been kind to him, although it was only two years since they'd seen one another.
"Frieda Thatcher! Christ, you're looking fantastic!" He put both his strong hands on her arms and leaned slightly back to take her all in with his eyes. She felt them trailing along her tits, rubbing against her nipples that she felt were growing taut, slipping down to her navel, and then, finally to her cunt. She shook herself free of the erotic fantasy she was building for herself.
They exchanged pleasantries, then Frieda suggested that they talk privately. She thought she saw a spark of desire flash across his face for an instant...but maybe she was wrong.
As she walked into the room in front of Bill, Frieda was sure she heard the lock click a second after the door shut. Well, III play any game he wants to, she thought as she sat down on the leather couch next to his desk.
"So, I read where you're in town to help with some vice problems," Frieda said nonchalantly.
Bill said nothing at first. He just stood by the door, staring at her mammoth tite, then shifting his glance down to her well-exposed thighs. Frieda began to wonder if she should have worn this outfit. She wanted to get his attention, but not so completely that he couldn't talk.
"I said-"
"Oh, yeah, your chief called my office and told me that the problem they had here was really getting out of control. Say, you wore that sweater when you were in college, didn't you?"
Frieda was aware that Bill was intent on changing the subject, but she wanted to shift the conversation to her reason for coming.
"Yes, several times. Anyway, I've got some problems that I could use some help with, and ... "
"You have problems?" Bill smiled that smile that she new was reflecting a raging hard-on under his fly. They stared intensely at each other, Frieda sensing that they both could feel the air becoming superheated between them, a strong, hot feeling passing from him to her, and from her to him again. Their breathing became heavy. Frieda began to feel her cunt twitch again, and could detect the faint aroma of cunt juice in the air around her.
He kept looking hotly at her, passing fast, hot glances down her body, taking in the sight of her huge tits moving softly in her sweater, letting his eyes dart to her feet, up to her thighs, to her waist, and back up to her tits again.
Everything began to swim before her eyes, and suddenly Bill was against her, pressing his mouth against hers, pushing her lips apart, forcing his thick, wiggling tongue past her teeth, shoving it inward into the hot, wet recesses of her mouth. It burrowed its way past her teeth, into the hollow of her throat, while at the same time and at the same tempo their loins rose and fell, twisted and jerked, moved back and forth.
His arms were around her. He kissed her passionately, longingly, twisting his fingers in her hair, then holding her tightly, kissing her more roughly.
Frieda was swimming with desire. She felt as warm, as erotic as she did with Brian. It was an overwhelming, an all-encompassing feeling, making her go limp in his arMs. She felt her cunt ache, screaming for a satisfaction she knew Bill could give her. She felt his hands reach up and cup her tits, grabbing and pulling at them and tugging them forward in a milking action. Bill broke from her mouth and plunged his tongue in her ear, and he began to bite and nibble there, still grappling at her big tits. Frieda could feel the juice soaking through her panties, and she knew her entire body was begging for him.
Her hand went almost involuntarily to his leg, her palm flat on top of his thigh, then it moved up a little to his fly. Frieda recognized the size and shape of his massive cock even through the thick material of his pants. She felt it throb at her light touch.
He groaned softly, then moved his hands behind her. She felt him begin to unbutton her sweater. She felt his hands against her bare shoulder. Next she felt the clasp of her bra unfasten, and within seconds his hands were clenching the flesh of the sides of her tits.
"Wait," she said, backing away from him. Frieda wriggled desperately out of her skirt, then stepped out of her panties. Before she knew what was happening, she felt his two enormous hands go around her asscheeks, and she felt the hot aching of her cunt suddenly satisfied by the bursting shot of pleasure that his mouth gave it. His tongue slid up and down the surface of her crack, moistening and soaking the walls of her inner cunt, tugging at her swollen cuntlips until they hung open invitingly. He searched hungrily up the throat of her twat, taking his tongue out and shooting it back up again with a speed that surprised her.
Frieda began to feel the contractions stirring in her stomach, in her knees, inside the dark, hungry tunnel of her burning cunt. She was going to cum! Oh God, she was going to cum standing up, and only a few seconds after Bill had stuck his tongue in her cunt.
She felt the twitches start, and began to push with her asscheeks toward his chin, bucking slightly with the help of his hands as they held her ass, making her feel every twinge. Then it was too much, because she gasped and let it all go.
"Oooooh, nooooo!"
Bill withdrew his tongue suddenly, leaving her teetering on the brink of climax. That son-of-a-bitch! She was ready to explode, and he was playing games.
"Not yet, honey. You're going to cum, all right, but with me inside you."
Bill stood up and slipped out of his clothes. Frieda admired his deeply tanned skin and the thick matting of hair covering his body. Her eyes traveled to his stiff cock jerking in the air. The cockhead was flanged out over the shaft. Already, drops of juice were bubbling out of his piss-hole. Bill reached down with his hand and rubbed his palm around the tip, then ran it down the shaft slowly, twisting and lubricating the taut hot skin of his throbbing cock. Frieda licked her lips. She wanted to take that cock, those balls, in her mouth. Brian had broken her into oral sex; now it was time to see how well she could do on her own. She didn't count the rape scene with her stepbrother. This would be pure enjoyment, she thought to herself as she rushed forward and dropped to her knees.
Bill realized what she was going to do, and moaned softly, "Suck my balls." His balls were big, much bigger than Tommy's and even Brian's. Clsoing her eyes, she brought her front teeth together against the wrinkled flesh. She almost gagged on the mouthful of testicles and skin. But, she swore that she would do this right.
She hek his balls in her mouth, moving her tongue around a little and keeping his nuts nice and warm. She heard Bill let out a groan of delight. She applied suction, felt the balls and skin being drawn to the back of her throat, and heard him whimper for more. He wanted more? All right, she intended to drive him up the walls like he had done to her two years ago.
She reached up to grab Bill's cock, knowing that he would like it if she did. She was rewarded by a guttural cry as she took some drops of cum between her fingers and greased the hot length of his bobbing cockshaft.
Frieda let go of Bill's balls, tracing tiny wet circles up his quivering shaft. She watched it jump up and down as her tongue ran along the protruding veins.
"Easy, easy, baby," Bill groaned as Frieda moved closer to his cockhead. Frieda felt her cunt twitching angrily for relief as she ran her tongue up and down the underside of his cock.
"I can't take this much longer," she moaned, pulling away from him and standing up.
"You can't?" he replied, smiling. Then he took her by the hand and led her to the couch. Before she knew it, Bill was between her legs, his face buried in her crotch, and he was pulling her cuntlips apart with the thumbs and index fingers of both his hands. She felt the cool air of the room wafting into her hot cunt. Suddenly he was pushing forward, burying his tongue in her cunt and slurping, mixing his saliva with her vaginal juices.
"Mmmmm," he said as he rubbed his nose in her cunt. Frieda could feel the taut membranes stretching as his nose pushed inward. Frieda felt fingers resting on the inner surfaces of her left thigh. They were moving upward toward her cunt. She wondered how he could finger-fuck her if he was busy sticking his nose in her cunt. Well, Bill Greene was a master of sexual manipulation. If anybody could do it, he could, as most of the coeds on the campus could testify to. The fingers were moving closer, closer. Then he was moving them farther back, toward her asshole. He was getting even closer now; the fingers were toying with the tufts of pubic hair that grew along her perineum, and now he was moving two fingertips into the cleft of her asscheeks, right over the asshole, and then he was sticking his finger up her asshole. His dry forefinger was doing most of the work, pushing hard against the tight opening and digging into her flesh with its blunt nail. She wanted to yell, but didn't dare. There were too many people outside. Besides, he was licking her clit and, God, it felt so warm and wet and good. Oh! Two joints of his finger were in her ass now. It hurt, but she couldn't say anything because he'd pursed his lips over her clit and was sucking gently, and it felt so nice, and her clit was swelling to what felt like an enormous size.
Frieda sighed. It was a long, shuddering response, and she did it again as Bill slowly removed his finger from her asshole and moved it to the delicate perineal ridge. He was moving forward toward her cunt, the finger sliding over the slick membranes to her opening. Then it was pushing into her cunt and she could feel it scraping along the slippery cunt wall as his teeth nibbled on her clitoris.
Suddenly he pulled away.
"Let's fuck!" he said hoarsely. He went about it simply and straightforwardly and without hesitation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for the two of them to be fucking.
He was biting each of her tits in turn, taking the nipples one at a time and nibbling on them gently, savoring their stiffness and their half-inch length, and now he was licking her cleavage, running his tongue to and fro in the valley between her tits, and his fingers were grabbing her clit again, rolling it back and forth, massaging it gently so that she felt her cunt muscles growing tauter, tauter, while her asshole tingled and her stomach muscles stiffened and her entire body tensed itself for the climax to come.
"I thought you said we were going to fuck," she whispered, barely able to get the words out.
Bill smiled at her. "Impatient, aren't you. Hell, Frieda, you haven't changed one bit."
Before she got a chance to think that last statement over, she felt his enormous, hot cock part her cuntlips as if they were two little waves. It climbed slowly, steadily up her cunt until she could feel with her wet walls every square inch of it poking and throbbing and searching its way along her twat. She felt incredibly stuffed. She took a deep breath and tightened her cunt muscles around the prick. Bill pulled back slightly, then gave another forward shove.
Frieda shuddered. It felt so good, so very good. "Fuck me," she whispered softly, and the words excited her. "Fuck me!" she repeated more loudly, and there was a definite trembling in her loins.
"I'll fuck you, all right," Bill growled. He was near climax; he could feel the jism boiling in his balls, about to explode into his cunt-buried cock and spurt out in delicious wads. He balanced on his left arm as he reached between their bodies and found her clitoris with his index finger. He massaged the clit, simultaneously rubbing her hairy pubic mound with his thumb, until Frieda thought she would explode with excitement.
"I..." She couldn't say the next word, let alone finish the sentence. Suddenly she was on a cloud, floating in a sky filled with thunder and lightning. She could smell her own cunt juice as she slammed forward, backward, and from side to side. Her body bucked and jerked with rising tension until now she was whimpering with each spasm that tore her body and squeezed Bill's cock so that it fired its heavy hot load of cum into her slick and slowly slackening cunt.
It seemed like hours before the two of them stopped tossing and rolling on the couch. Bill was the first to speak.
"No, you haven't changed, Frieda. You've still got the most sensitive pussy I've ever fucked."
"Well, I guess that's a compliment of sorts," she said, feeling flattered that Bill still appreciated her strenuous sexual acrobatics. "But that wasn't the reason I came here today. Bill, I've got some pretty big problems with my stepfather, and thought you might be able to help me out." "Your mother remarried?" "Yes, to a pig by the name of Max Berger." Frieda saw Bill's face change suddenly. His eyes narrowed, and his smile turned quickly to a scowl. Something she had said had produced this change. Could it be her mother's remarriage?
"Max Berger?" Bill said softly. "About forty, heavyset?"
"Why, yes," Frieda said, surprised that he should seem to know her stepfather. "And he has an idiot son by the name of Tommy?"
Bill grew suddenly quiet. Frieda saw that i imething was wrong.
"What about him? You know something, don't you Bill?"
"Well, I don't think I should tell you anything. Not right away."
"Ouch," she said when he pulled his cock out of her cunt and started going for a wall closet to get some towels. Her twat was hurting.
"Sorry about that," he said, smiling, trying to cover up his obvious concern.
"Bill Greene, I know you well enough to see that you're hiding something. Maybe after what I tell you he's done to me and my future sister-in-law, you'll see fit to tell me what you've got on him." Frieda decided that this was no time to hide her relationship with her brother and his fiancee. Besides, there were rumors when she was in college that Bill had a thing going with his sister. In any case, he was anything but a prude.
After Frieda told him the entire story...the three-way in the bedroom, the pictures Max took, her rapes in the basement and in the woods, and the beatings suffered both by her and Betty, Bill sat down and stared blankly at her.
"Whew!" he finally whistled. "You've really been busy, haven't you?"
"I didn't come here for comments," Frieda said, slightly ashamed that she had spilled out the truth to him, only to be apparently laughed at or scorned. But Bill obviously realized he'd made the wrong move, and got up quickly, grabbing her gently by the shoulders.
"Now listen. I'm going to tell you a secret. You read about how I'm up here on a case, right?" Frieda nodded.
"Well, we got some leads on who's responsible for this dope and hooker ring. It seems that the head man had a good operation going on in L.A. until we started leaning on him. For a while, it was hard going trying to get anything on him. Finally, one of the girls came in and spilled out as much as she knew about the operation. Obviously, she was close enough to the top to see most of the business going on."
"She took a chance," Frieda interrupted. "Yeah, but it was that or be used for dog bait."
"What?"
"This guy serviced a strange group of people, guys who went in for kinky sex...pissing, shitting, getting fucked by animals. They enjoyed doing it, or watching it being done to women. The head man started the girls off on regular streetwalking, then got them hooked on drugs...heroin, most often. Then, he dried up their supply and they'd do anything to get it back. That's when he had them. He could tell them to eat a pile of monkey shit and they would."
Frieda shuddered as she wondered who this animal could be to turn women into animals.
"Everything went along smoothly enough, until some of the girls started to disappear. Rumors started spreading around the girls that this guy was killing off the ones who couldn't perform as well as Jiey used to. That way, he never had to worry about anybody talking."
Frieda felt shivers run through her body, though t couldn't understand why. The story was horrible enough, but why did she feel as if she knew the story? There was something in Bill's tone of voice, something that told her she was somehow involved in this entire mess.
"He had a good drug business going on the side too...mostly hard stuff. Like I said, everything went smoothly until we got wind of his operation and started sniffing. The girls about this time were nervous because of those rumors of the killings. Finally, one cracked and came running to us. She never saw the man, and didn't know where his office was, but she did know his name...Nat Polaski."
Frieda noticed that Bill was looking at her intently. Why?
"We raided his house the next day, but he was gone. Somehow he'd discovered we were on to him, so he up and left. Didn't leave a trace of evidence behind him. No records, no prints, nothing. We ran a check on him and found out that he had a list of aliases. One of them was Max Berger!"
Frieda's blood ran cold. She felt faint, and reeled forward. Bill reached out and grabbed her. "Oh my God! Oh my God!" she kept repeating. "My mother's gone off and married that animal? Oh my God, my God!"
"Easy, Frieda. I'm not sure. The description you gave me sounds like him, but it could fit a million other guys...and there are plenty of people around with his name."
"Oh my God," she kept moaning, cradleing her head in her hands. She" felt as though she were going to vomit. Max, her mother's husband, her stepfather, a dope pusher, white slaver, and maybe a murderer! Frieda's thoughts spun around in her head wildly as Bill tried to calm her down. Finally she got control her herself, and decided to help Bill in any way she could.
"I want to help, Bill," Frieda said determinedly. "If I can do anything to put that, that..." Frieda couldn't find a word to describe Max, so she just let it drop. "I'd be helping us both."
"Good girl. Now, you've got access to most of the rooms in your house, right?"
Frieda nodded.
"You must've seen Max working on papers on a desk, or some place where he seems to keep his personal things."
Frieda thought a minute, then remembered one time when she walked unexpectedly into the den and saw Max writing in what looked like a ledger book. When he saw her come in, he acted nervous and shoved the book into the top drawer of her first father's desk. She remembered that incident well, because she resented him using anything in the house that she associated with her real father.
"In a desk...in the den. It looked like the kind of book accountants use."
"That's a start. I want you to look around, especially in that desk, and see if you can find anything...diaries, letters, accounts...anything that looks suspicious and bring them to me. If we work fast, we can find out if he's the Max Berger I'm looking for."
"I know he is," Frieda said, feeling her spine shudder in revulsion as she thought of him.
Bill put his arm around her, and suddenly all thoughts of Max disappeared. She felt warm, protected, and horny again. God! He could do that to her, make her forget about someone like Max living in her own home, under her nose, and only think about her cock-starved cunt. Frieda couldn't help but giggle. Cock-starved! Jesus, he'd been out of her only for a few minutes, and already she was thinking of her cunt as needing more prick.
"I want to kiss you, Bill."
"Hey, cut it out. You'd better start getting on home to look..."
"I want to kiss your cock, Bill." She giggled. "Frieda..."
"I want to suck it stiff so you can stuff it in my cunt, Bill. It needs you again."
Bill sighed. "Aren't you going to get out of here to look for the papers?" he asked as he leaned against the wall and spread his legs slightly. Frieda looked down and saw that his cock was beginning to redden, then it was stretching, crawling forward from his forest of bushy pubic hair.
She took the cock into her mouth and began to suck on it gently. The soft knob felt like a hunk of sponge at first, but it quickly grew firmer as she ran her tongue along the cleft on its underside.
"Ummmm!" Bill moaned as Frieda's lips went down to the root of his cock. Not too many girls had been able to arouse him so quickly after already cumming, let alone take in his cock all the way without gagging. Frieda was slowly wrapping her tongue around the shaft, working her way up to the cockhead.
"Go home, Frieda," Bill said softly, pumping his thighs off the couch, thrusting his cock deeply into Frieda's sucking mouth. "Go home, after you finish your job here."
She giggled and slid her fingers under his balls. "Someday," she said, her words muffled by her mouthful of stiff cock.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Frieda got home just in time to see her family pulling out of the drive. She parked in front of the house and ran over to her brother's backing car. Brian stopped short of the street, stuck his head out and smiled a hello.
God, she thought, feeling her clit beginning to swell again, I wonder if my mother ever guessed she's raised a nympho? "Hey, where are you going?" she asked, seeing that Brian, Betty and her mother were bent on another excursion.
"Good movie in town. We'd thought we'd take it in. Want to come?" Brian asked.
Frieda looked at her brother, and her resolve to search the desk tonight for Max's books almost disappeared. But she promised herself that she'd find out as soon as she could whether or not he was the man Bill and his squad were looking for. She'd just have to pass up Brian's company tonight.
"No thanks, I'm pretty tired. I'll just get on to bed."
"How was your visit?" Betty asked from the other side of the front seat. Frieda wanted to give her a clue as to what she had discovered, just in case something happened to her tonight, without alarming her mother. After all, to be fair, Max could be innocent.
"Oh, the usual kind of small talk when two people haven't seen each other for a while. Oh, by the way, I found out that Bill thinks he knows Max."
"Professionally?" Betty said jokingly. Frieda detected that behind the laugh was an honest question. Well, she'd use the same technique.
"Oh, sure. I think I'll try to find out tonight." She bent down to look at Betty, who flashed her a warning to be careful with her eyes. Frieda glanced at her mother in the back seat, who had been frowning during the last part of the conversation. "Well, have a good time," she chirped as she started walking toward the house.
"Max left early tonight. He left Tommy at home, so I guess you'll have company tonight," her mother called out as the car backed out the drive and pulled away down the road.
As Frieda walked into the kitchen, she heard the television going full-blast. She walked quietly to the doorway of the living room and saw Tommy seated cross-legged three feet from the colored screen. Thank God! she thought, relieved. I can look for those things without worrying about making up a story for Tommy.
She walked to the den on tiptoe and went to the desk. He's probably locked it, she thought, but he doesn't know that Father had an extra set of keys made just in case he lost the first. She turned and began walking quietly over to the trophy case at the opposite end of the room. "Ouch! That damned chair!" she said as she accidentally banged into a heavy wooden Mexican-style recliner. Frieda held her breath to see if Tommy had heard her. No, she could hear him clapping as the program droned on on the TV. I could turn the lights on, but better keep them off just in case, she thought as she groped her way across the room to the large glass case. In the darkness she made out the large gold trophy with the words "Champion Bowler" inscribed on the front of its base, the prize her dad had won three months before he was killed in that auto accident.
Frieda sighed deeply, then slid the glass door open and reached up to take the trophy cup down. The keys should be taped underneath, she said to herself as she ran her fingers over the felt-covered base. She found them...all five of them! Now, if only Max hadn't changed the locks. She didn't think he had, but she didn't put anything past him. Closing the case, Frieda groped her way back to the desk and tried the large key in the lock of the top drawer. Oh God, please, please, make it work. She gave some pressure to the right side of the key and felt the lock spring open.
Frieda sighed in relief and drew open the drawer. There it was, the ledger she'd seen Max writing in the time she'd walked in unannounced, and there were other things in there, too...what looked like other ledger books, letters, small, rectangular portfolios. Frieda picked them up nervously and carried them over to the doorway where some light from the living room made it possible for her to see what was in them.
She opened the large ledger book and started reading down a page that looked like a tally of accounts. It didn't take her too long to figure out that they were the reports of a whorehouse, money accounts, and the dates ran up to yesterday! Then Max was the one Bill was looking for. Frieda thumbed through the other books quickly and saw that they were more of the same, only of earlier dates.
She opened the remaining drawers and took out other papers Max had stashed away. There were letters to people in Los Angeles and New York about drug shipments coming in from all parts of the world. So, he's in this up to his ass, Frieda said to herself, smiling. Now she had him! He had tried to corner her, but it would be her turn to put the finger on him. He'd be so busy sweating about the charges Bill would file against him that he'd probably forget anything he had on her, Betty and Brian.
She decided to take some of the older letters and ledgers to Bill, leaving the more recent ones in the desk just in case Max should come back before she got a chance to get out.
The pictures! They must be in here too! Frieda thought as she started up the stairs. She was going to go back down and search for them, but decided first to hide what she had under her mattress to be safe.
When Frieda came back down the stairs, she thought that she'd better have a back-up plan just in case something went wrong and she didn't get a chance to see Bill. From the living room, Frieda still heard the television set blaring away. As she walked to the doorway she saw Tommy still sitting cross-legged directly in front of the tube, staring intently at the screen.
"Tommy?" she called out. He spun around and, seeing Frieda, and gurgled happily. "Want to play a game? Frieda wants to play a nice game." He jumped up, clapped his hands and ran over to her, pinning her arms behind her back and pumping and grinding his thighs against Frieda's. That wasn't the game she had in mind.
"No, no, bad boy. Do you want me to tell Max?"
Those words had the desired effect on him. He dropped his hands and stepped back, whimpering.
"That's all right," she said reassuringly. "Now, it's like Hide-And-Seek. But I'm playing it with Max."
He looked puzzled, knowing in his childlike mind that Frieda hated Max.
"That's right. I hid some things from him. Now, when he comes back, no matter what he says or does, don't tell or show him anything. All right?"
Tommy nodded quickly.
"And if I shouldn't be here, or if something happens, take Betty to my bed and show her the things I hid from Max. They're some books and letters, and I put them under my mattress. Show Betty. Understand?"
Tommy nodded again.
"Now go back and watch television." Frieda realized that Betty wouldn't understand exactly what all those letters and ledgers meant, so she went back upstairs to write her some brief instructions as to what they were and what to do with them.
Finishing the note, she stuck it on top of the ledger, pulling the bedspread carefully over the protruding books. Frieda ran down the stairs, noticing that the television was still on. She was glad that Tommy was back to his program, and walked quietly to the den.
As she approached the desk, she saw that the top drawer was open. Funny, she thought as she approached it, I thought I closed it. Maybe Tommy...
Before she could finish her thought Frieda heard the floor squeak directly behind her. She spun around and saw Max towering over her, his hand raised. She started to cry out, then everything went black.
It seemed like hours had passed before Freida came to. "Oooh," she moaned, opening her eyes to semidarkness. She felt cold and damp, and realized that she was in the basement, stripped naked. Something was wrong. Her hands were tied together and stretched behind her head tightly. Tilting her head back as far as she could, Frieda saw a rope leading from her wrists to one of the concrete supports in the center of the basement. Gradually clearing her mind, Frieda realized that her legs were also tied, but each one separately. They were stretched out straight and high above her head so that her thighs and ass were raised high off the basement floor. Her back ached, and she wondered what had happened. Oh yes, the desk, the open drawer, and Max standing behind her with his hand raised. Her head ached terribly. He must have struck her with something, dragged her downstairs, stripped her and tied her up. But what for?
Before she had a chance to reflect any further she heard a sharp laugh and felt a rigid finger stab suddenly into her cunt from behind. Frieda cried out in pain and fear.
"How do you feel, baby?" Frieda recognized Max's voice.
"What do you think you're doing? If you think you can get away with this..." she began, but was drowned out before she could finish the sentence.
"Nobody's home but Tommy, and he didn't even hear me come in. Just what the fuck were you doing in the desk. How did you get in it without breaking the locks?"
"You're so smart, you figure it out."
"Don't get smart with me, bitch," Max hissed. Frieda gasped as she felt the toe of his boot press dowi. slightly into her soft cunt. "Now, unless you want to be cleaning shoe polish from your twat, tell me what you were doing in the desk."
"The pictures!" she cried out. "I was looking for those pictures you took of us." She felt the boot pull out of her cunt. Thank God! Frieda had no doubt that Max would have shoved his whole foot in, heel included, until he was satisfied.
"Didn't find them, did you?" he said triumphantly.
Frieda smiled inwardly. So, he didn't notice the ledgers and letters missing. Good; at least they'll make it to the authorities. Frieda's thoughts were interrupted by a strange low sound she didn't recognize.
"What's that?" she asked nervously. "Sound familiar?"
Frieda listened again, then recognized the sound of a dog growling. At first she couldn't understand why a dog was down there; then she suddenly realized that the dog was near her upturned cunt, and that growling wasn't one of anger but of sexual desire. Good God! Max was going to make the dog fuck her!
Frieda could see what was going to happen and she began to scream. She never asked Max for anything, but she began to plead for pity, begging him not to do it, promising him anything if he'd takke the dog away.
"Dog? Dog? Sorry, honey, but I've got two of them down here."
Two! Oh Christ! Frieda began to toss in her bonds, but all she could do was slap her bare ass against the concrete floor, exciting the dogs further. She raised her head and saw Max was scratching the first dog's ears with his left hand while running his right hand back and forth on the German shepherd's muscular belly. The dog was developing a hard-on, thanks to the massage.
"Don't worry. You're not gonna get it yet. I've got a few things I want to try out first."
Max came at her, his mouth twisted in a fleshy snarl, his eyes glassy and wide like a madman's. Frieda saw that his cock was hard, throbbing. It looked like a short thick bullet about to pierce her exposed cunt. She wished he would rape her and get it over with, but he was having the time of his life taunting her. Leaning heavily against her upturned thighs, he reached forward and grabbed her tits, kneading and pinching them roughly while he clutched the thick forest of pubic hair between her legs. His fingers worked slowly, though roughly through the pussy hair, spreading the lips of her quivering cunt until he found the soft flesh of her clitoris. He pinched it and rubbed it until it stood up involuntarily from the rough teasing.
"See, you like it like this, you bitch," he hissed.
Frieda couldn't say anything. She knew that her clit seemed to have a mind of its own at times, and tried to bring it under control. She writhed under Max's manipulation, moaning and trying to avoid his painful fingering, but he just pushed harder until his finger slipped wetly into the moist, hot cavern between her legs. She could feel the walls of her cunt cling tightly around his finger, and he teased it slowly within her, trying to force cunt juice from her. He wanted her to be wet and open when he fucked her.
But Frieda resisted Max's prodding, remaining tight as he tried to pry her wide open. She felt him desperately work his fingers around and around, up and down inside her tight cunt. She couldn't get away from him, but she continued to toss from side to side, jerking her hands painfully on the rope. She wanted to be sick; Frieda couldn't stand the thought of Max's old cock ramming inside her cunt again.
"You're not gonna give in, are you?" Max said disgustedly.
Frieda smiled. For the first time she wasn't giving in to him. It was the beginning of the end for...for who? For him, certainly, but maybe for her too.
"Well, you've got to take it, baby, not me," Max whispered hoarsely as he braced for a fast penetration.
Frieda clenched her teeth, bracing for Max's sudden attack. It came with a vengeance.
"OHHHH!" Frieda cried out, her cunt stinging with pain. She was dry as a bone, and her stepfather's cock was like a fist up her cunt.
"Feel good?" he moaned, pumping slowly at first, then increasing his speed. Frieda stayed dry, but her cunt was moistened by the steady stream of pre-cum that leaked from his cockhead. She began to wonder if getting fucked by the dogs wouldn't be better than this.
Frieda was slow to realize that Max was fiddling around with something near her asshole while he was still pumping his prick in and out of her ravaged cunt.
"Always felt that every hole ought to be filled up," Max said sneeringly.
Frieda felt something cold and smooth sliding up her right asscheek toward her exposed shithole. "What are you doing?"
"I've just got one cock, baby, but I'm holding on to another one down here."
Oh Jesus! A dildo...up her ass! Before she could think any further, Max buried the giant tip of the plastic cock deep into her puckered asshole with a rough shove.
"UUUHHH!" Frieda moaned. She thought her belly would split apart. Spasms of hot, searing, electric like pain shot from her ass through her cunt, racking her body as Max twisted the dildo in deeper.
"I don't even have the full head buried yet, and you're already complaining." Max tried to push it in deeper, but Frieda's ass resisted too strongly. He tried twisting it in like a screw going into a wall.
"No, please, Max, no more!" she pleaded in short gasps, but Max continued to shove it in. Frieda felt her sphincter muscles stretch until she felt they'd break apart. Max slid the dildo in all the way, then pulled it out about halfway, and shoved ut roughly back in. He repeated the process several times, alternating the ass thrusts with the pumping he was giving his stepdaughter in her cunt.
Oh God, she could feel his muscles stiffening and his breath was coming in short gasps and now he was slamming that dildo into her ass like a steam piston that was mashing her bowels into a brown pulp. He cried out, and Freida knew that he was shooting his filthy wad into her cunt.
Max nearly fell to the floor with exhaustion. He seemed to be in a trance, but the dogs' growling brought him to his senses. He reached out, his cock stall dangling out of his pants, and grabbed the first German shepherd by the collar and brought him forward to Frieda's cum- and shit-smeared ass. The dog immediately placed its nose against Frieda's ass and sniffed; a second or two later it was nosing her pubic hair.
Oh God, God! Frieda thought, writhing in disgust and terror in her bondage. She moaned in fear, and the dog pulled away in surprise. Frieda thought she had an answer to her problem, and started moaning and screaming. If she could keep the dog on guard, she might be able to cure it of its passion. But Max had other plans. He hit the dog roughly across the head, then brought his right hand down across her tender cunt. Frieda shrieked in pain.
"If you don't want any more of that, you'll stay quiet, hear me?"
Frieda didn't answer, but just moaned again, this time in earnest. This time the dog either misunderstood or didn't care. It walked up to her, placed its nose between her spread thighs, and began to push it against her cunt. Frieda screamed, but Max and the dog didn't notice.
"Faster, boy," Max encouraged, fingering his cock until it became stiff again. The dog began wagging its tail as it licked Frieda's cunt. Her ass quivered, and that seemed to entice the dog further. He seemed to like that combination of shit and cum that leaked down her ass. The shepherd's pink tongue moved back and forth on her cuntlips, with an occasional lapping as far back as her asshole. Frieda felt her body contracting in a series of dry heaves. Good God, she thought as she tried to fight back the fluid that was rising from her belly. This can't be real! It can't be happening to me!
But it was happening to her. The dog was trying to force its wet, cold nose into Frieda's cunt, and she was shuddering with each contact of muzzle and membrane. The dog seemed irritated when it was unable to push its nose as deep into her cunt as it had intended to, and it snapped at Frieda's outer cuntlips. The pain seared her body, and she cried out.
"Okay, boy," Max said quietly. His eyes were dilated again with lust, but this time he was a voyeur, watching a dog fuck his stepdaughter, a disgusting act in any man's language. Almost immediately after this second command, the dog pulled its muzzle from between Frieda's thighs and leaped on her upturned legs and asscheeks, mounting her with the obvious purpose of fucking her. Frieda felt the hot fur brush against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and her flesh crawled. Between her bleeding and quivering cuntlips she could feel something pointy, something that was dripping some kind of hot fluid on her pussy, and she guessed that it was the dog's prick.
Frieda screamed as the dog's cock pushed against her cuntlips. A second later, the knotted prick was deep inside her, and Frieda hung limply from the ropes. She nearly fainted with disgust as she felt the animal's cock plunging in and out of her wounded cunt, felt the hot saliva dripping from the dog's panting mouth as he increased his rhythm with every passing second.
The dog thrust a few times, ejaculated, and withdrew. The dog that had just fucked her walked around in a circle, its tail wagging, and then stopped next to Frieda's left thigh, lifted its leg, and took a piss.
"Good boy, good boy," Max crooned, petting the dog gently on the head. "Now, for the second one. You'll get used to it. You'll have to, baby." Frieda wondered what he meant. Why should he say that? What did he have in mind? Oh shit, not again, she thought as she felt the second dog's nose poking its way in her cum-saturated cunt. The bleeding had stopped, but her cuntlips were still sore. Any pressure made her wince in pain, but the dog didn't seem to notice. The animal licked off some of the first dog's cum, then mounted Frieda.
She twisted and turned, trying to throw the dog off her legs. But the animal was determined. He started to growl in anger, and Frieda decided that it might be too dangerous to try to fight him off any further. She relaxed, resigned to her fate as the dog resumed pumping away at her cunt.
It took him longer than the first, but finally his cock swelled, then spat its load of cum deep into Frieda's protesting and sore cunt. She moaned in revulsion as she felt wad after wad of animal jism spatter against the aching walls of her cunt.
Finally, it was over. She felt the animal leave her legs, deciding, she guessed, not to piss on her thighs. Maybe that was a sign that he liked her more than the first one did. Oh shit! What am I doing? Trying to compare animal lovers?
"Not a bad show, Frieda," Max said appreciatively, crouching down next to her face. "I'm glad you're not one of those whimpering or submissive bitches. We can really use you."
We? she thought. Is he going to use me in his operation? At first Frieda cringed at the thought of working as a whore, especially for him. Then she thought again. Wouldn't it be better to have someone testify in court who had firsthand information of his racket? Some of the other girls might get on the stand, but wouldn't a girl who was forced into his scheme be better believed than a seasoned hooker? And his own stepdaughter? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, and she could help. Anyway, it couldn't be any worse than what she'd gone through already.
"I don't want you giving me any trouble," he said, coming at her with something in his hand. "What is that?"
"Just a tranquilizer to keep you quiet until I get you there."
Frieda winced as she felt the needle slip under the skin of her right arm.
"You'll be feeling sleepy soon. Think pleasant thoughts. You'll need them later on," he sneered, walking up the kitchen stairs.
Pleasant thoughts, she said to herself dreamily. The tranquilizer was already beginning to have its effect on her. She thought of Brian, his tousled blond hair swinging in his eyes as his hot balls dapped against her ass while he pounded his cock deep into her cunt. She thought of Bill, his long, thin prick wedging past her moist cuntlips, gently probing its way deep into her snatch as she felt her clit swell and throb deliriously.
Ohhh, yesss! Fuck me, Bill, fuck me, Brian! Oh God. I'm sooo sleepy. . . Frieda felt herself slipping gently, ever so gently into a deep deep...like being dragged down into a warm whirlpool. She didn't notice the sound of whimpering coming through the half-opened basement window. Tommy knelt there, staring at her bound, naked body, sniveling uncontrollably as be clenched his fists angrily.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Frieda regained consciousness the second time, she was beginning to wonder if she weren't reliving The Perils of Pauline. What had happened to her was something straight out of those 1930 hokey mystery-dramas...admittedly a little spiced up, of course. Blackmail, rifling through locked desks at night for illegal documents, being knocked out, recovering in a basement only to discover she was tied up, forced to submit to...ugh! She didn't want to think about it. Then drugged and dragged to...Frieda looked around. The room she was in was unfurnished. Apparently it served as a storeroom, since a dozen or so bags of Purina Dog Chow and a corrugated carton of rawhide bones were stacked against one wall. Frieda winced as she thought of those German shepherds in her basement. Her cunt still hurt from the bite of the first dog. She reached down to check out her twat. Except for some tenderness she seemed to be all right. Well, at least she had on her clothes. Max had done that much for her. Frieda was about to sit on the bare concrete floor...she had gotten used to them by now...when the door opened and a middle-aged woman, slightly heavyset and rather masculine in appearance, stuck her head inside.
"Take off your clothes," the woman said in a businesslike manner. "I'll be back in a few minutes to search you."
Search her! What were they looking for, and who was she? Take off her clothes? Again? This was becoming a habit. At least they were letting her do the unzipping. Frieda had begun to look for small favors.
In a few minutes Frieda heard a key being inserted in the storeroom door's lock; the door opened, and the middle-aged woman stepped inside.
"I'm Miss Hudson," she said. "Bend forward at the waist and spread those cheeks."
Frieda was a little slow to comply, despite her knowledge that she had no other choice than to cooperate. She was a little shy about exposing her ass to a perfect stranger. But she obeyed when the woman gave her a hard smack across the ass. The vibrations carried to her sore cunt and made her wince.
"Bend over!" Miss Hudson said again, more sharply than the first time.
Frieda reluctantly did as she was told. She blushed as she was forced to hold her asscheeks apart while Miss Hudson inserted a well-lubricated finger into her asshole. Frieda thought she was drilling for oil. Whatever could she be looking for?
"Good; nothing there," Miss Hudson said with obvious satisfaction. "Turn around, now." Frieda turned around and spread her thighs when Miss Hudson told her to. The older woman then inserted a finger in Frieda's cunt and felt around for God-only-knows-what. Frieda decided to ask.
"For Christ's sake," she said, almost giggling in :his grotesque inspection. Miss Hudson was tickling her. "What are you looking for?"
"Checking for weapons, drugs, jewels," she said mechanically.
"Didn't you see how I came in? How could I have stashed away anything like that?"
Miss Hudson didn't appear to like Frieda's tone of voice, and pinched her sore cuntlip. Frieda screamed out in pain, falling to her knees.
"Watch how you speak to me, or anybody else here. Mr. Berger's told me plenty about you. I'm going to have to watch you, I see that. I can get good use out of your body, but I'll have him take care of you if you give me any more lip or trouble. Understand?"
Frieda shook her head.
"You're a little sore down there, but I can use you for other things until you heal. Follow me; I'll take you to your room. It's in one of the storage buildings further down."
The room wasn't a room at all, but a garden shed with the roof gone. There were two straw mats at either end of the shed, obviously to sleep on. She glanced at the pile of shit in the corner and shuddered; that was probably why there was no roof...to let out the stink. So, this was what Max was reduced to. Bill and his squad must have busted his operation too quickly for him to have taken much with him. So, he had set up a kind of temporary place...but what a place! It was more for animals than for people.
Frieda was sitting naked on the straw mat opposite the door when an equally nude girl was catapulted into the shed by Miss Hudson. Frieda gasped in surprise to see someone brought down to the same level she was.
"Hi," the girl said shyly. There was something open, almost innocent about her smile.
"What's going on here. I can't understand..."
"Why you've been brought here? To take care of their customers...fucking, I think they call it."
Frieda didn't particularly care for the girl's almost flippant attitude. Then she looked more closely at the girl and noticed teeth marks on one of her asscheeks.
"What on earth happened to you?" she asked, pointing to the tiny bruises.
"Oh, that was just one of the customers. He has this thing for asses...he just can't get enough of tbem. Loves to stick his tongue up them, even eat any shit we can force out into his mouth if we can. These are the marks of his affection."
Frieda shuddered. What kind of place was this? Bill must have been right. Max was running a whorehouse for weird people, the kind of place no girl, no matter how hard up she was, would work willingly...unless she was strung out on drugs, or kidnapped, liked her. Frieda wondered how long it would take them to find her. Suddenly, she realized that no one knew where she was. Even if Tommy succeeded in showing Betty the ledger and, Betty took all the documents to Bill, there was no guarantee that they could find her. Max could skip town just like he did in L.A., and could hide out here...wherever that was...or run again. But then he'd have to do something with the girls here. Already, Frieda guessed that there were more than just the two of them. Her heart sank as she thought of the options available to them, whatever Max decided to do.
"Have you ever made it with a girl?" the girl asked breezily.
Frieda felt this was no time for modesty, so she nodded her head yes.
"Well, it shouldn't be too bad for you then. ne of the girls resist at first, but Miss Hudson has her way in the end...and front, if you know what I mean."
Some joke, Frieda thought.
"And sometimes they get us together to watch one girl gang-banged...sometimes for disciplinary reasons, sometimes for, for, well, I guess I don't know what for. Last week Claudia in the next shed got it in the mouth, the cunt and up the ass at the same time. It was bad, like a free-for-all. They were hitting her, biting, chewing her cunt, sinking teeth into her..."
"Stop it!" Frieda cried. "This is sick! I've got to get out of here," she said desperately, spinning around and jumping up to her feet. She nearly crashed into Miss Hudson who was standing at the door. Behind her were two men with riding crops. Frieda guessed what they were for, and backed up to the center of the shed.
"Boys, I think this one needs a little reminder that she's to respect the rules around here."
Frieda looked at the girl and saw her eyes fill with pity. "What rules?" Frieda pleaded as the men walked around Miss Hudson and approached her menacingly. One grabbed Frieda's left arm and twisted it behind her back while the other placed his crop gently across her tits. Frieda shuddered as she felt the cold leather sliding across her nipples. Then, he took the crop off and swacked her tits sharply. Frieda felt a numbing shock explode through her tits, and she screamed in fear and pain.
"That's enough," Miss Hudson ordered, and the men let Frieda fall to the floor. "Now for the rules. No talking after nine o'clock...you'll know what time that is when you see the outside lights go out. You're not to leave the shed for any reason...for a piss or a shit...until morning. And that's when you get a chance to eat. You'll learn the rest of the rules soon enough. Now, get to sleep!"
Frieda crept into her corner and curled up as best she could on her mat. It was cold. The chilly night air swept in, making her shiver. Well, at least no one will bother me until morning, she thought as she gradually lost consciousness.
Frieda was given breakfast at eight a.m. Bread and water, she said to herself as she looked at the mess handed to her by one of the guards, and those bastards left the damned bread in the water. Christ, this is incredible! she thought as she picked up the pasty, gooey substance from the water and tried to eat it. The bread dissolved into a pulpy mash before it got to her molars. On this they expect us to live? she wondered.
"Hurry up!" she heard Miss Hudson say. Frieda looked up and saw her standing two feet away from the open shed door. The same guards were with her, cracking their crops smartly against their black leather boots. "There's somebody waiting for you."
For her? Frieda figured that it couldn't be help. She'd better steel herself for the next ordeal, for an ordeal she was sure it would be.
"Eat it now. You won't get anything else until supper time."
Frieda felt that her big problem was to keep alive until Bill could get there with his squad and arrest this whole bunch. She was afraid that if she didn't obey or got sick, they might decided to do away with her. Death. She shuddered as she faced that possiblity. God only knew if help would come on time. If? She mustn't think that. When, not if. Frieda had to take a piss. She went outside and squatted on the grass. A young man, one of the guards, was standing only a few feet away, talking to one of his buddies. He grinned as he noticed her halfway through her pissing. Frieda blushed, looked down at the ground and saw the grass absorbing her piss, and looked around for a piece of paper or cloth to dab her crotch dry. Of course, there wasn't any. God help her when she had to take a shit!
Miss Hudson came back quickly with her two helpers. "Let's get moving. We can't keep him waiting."
Frieda wondered who "him" was as she was escorted by the three of them through the grounds to what appeared to be the main house of this enclave. Frieda felt that she'd better look around. Anything she saw she could testify to later on in court...if she made it!
She saw sheds along the path like hers. Most had their doors closed, but a few were open, some of the girls squatting by the side or near the rear in an attempt to have some privacy for a piss or shit. Miss Hudson and the men enjoyed stopping and watching the girls complete their pissing and shitting, taunting them with words or, worse, pushing them into the dirt or their own shit. Frieda couldn't be sure, but if there were two girls to a shed, there were at least forty girls here, all of them relatively young, pretty, and kept under strict control. She wondered where Max and Miss Hudson got them as she obediently followed the woman up the front stairs and down a long corridor, at the end of which was a large, sunny room. Its cheerfulness was a nasty bit of irony to what Frieda felt she'd be forced to perform there.
"Your honor?" Miss Hudson said politely. "This is the new girl I told you about. I think you'll like her. She just came in last night, and she's not hooked on any drugs or alcohol. She's clean in every respect."
Frieda felt that Miss Hudson was talking about a shipment of cars...certainly not about a human being, and who was "your honor"? A judge? Bill said that Max catered to a kinky clientele, but obviously they were well-heeled too. This one was a white-haired man, dignified-looking, who sat in a leather easy chair facing her. He smiled at her kindly. Maybe he wouldn't ask her to do anything too repulsive.
"Blow me, bitch," he said softly, still smiling. For a second, Frieda couldn't believe her ears.
Could that respectable-looking old man sitting there still smiling at me have said that? She looked at him and saw that he was groping himself.
"I'm telling you again to give me a blowjob."
Frieda still stood there like an idiot, refusing to move. Miss Hudson shifted position uneasily but did nothing.
"Come over here and unzip me, bitch!" The judge wasn't smiling any longer, and the softness had disappeared from his voice.
"No." Her voice was quiet, but firm.
"Blow me!"
"Fuck yourself!" she said loudly. God only knew she was making it worse for herself, but Frieda couldn't help it. She had had enough of being raped by men, by women, by dildos, by dogs. She had to put her foot down somewhere.
The judge gasped and looked inquiringly at Miss Hudson. "I thought you said she'd cooperate?"
"She will," Miss Hudson said acidly, signaling her two guards to hit Frieda. Instinctively she put up her hands to protect her tits, but they had other plans. Miss Hudson and one of the guards held her while the other moved around behind her and shoved his riding crop up her ass.
I can take it, she said to herself, but the guard shoved it deeper and deeper until Frieda was afraid that it would tear apart her intestines.
"All right!" she screamed, pitching forward in pain.
"Blow me," the judge said again calmly. He had unzipped his trousers, and a long but shriveled cock, surrounded by straggly tufts of white hairs, dangled from his opened fly.
"I, uh, I..." Frieda saw one of the guards walking op to her again, and walked slowly toward the naked cock.
"On your knees," the judge commanded when she was a few feet from him. "I want you to crawl to me the rest of the way. And swing your titties. I want to see your titties hanging, swinging like a cow's tits when you come to me."
Frieda took one look at Miss Hudson, who was fingering one of the guard's riding crops menacingly. She decided that it would be wiser to obey. Really, what choice did she have?
God, what complete obscenity! The judge had taken off his shoes, and when she was directly in front of his chair he ordered her to kiss his feet.
"First the socks, then take them off with your teeth and kiss the skin."
Frieda almost retched in disgust as she did as she was told, puckering her lips against the smelly, sweaty cotton material that she was sure he'd purposely dirtied for this.
"Now, take them off with your teeth."
That was something she never learned in college. But at least the socks had no elastic bands and were relatively low. She did her best, pulling the rim down over the ankle, although she had to crouch to the floor on her elbows to get the material around the ball of his foot. She felt her nipples brush against the cold wood of the floor as she pulled the sock over the arch to the toes.
Frieda did the same with the other foot, then started kissing the naked foot gingerly.
"Now the other foot," he commanded.
For what seemed like hours she struggled with the left sock, finally tugging it off with her teeth and smothering that foot with kisses.
"Now, rub my feet between yours tits. I want to feel that skin rubbing across my ankles," he cooed, throwing his head back.
Well, it's better than kissing them, she thought as she propped his feet on her thighs, rolling her big tits up and over, around and around his twitching feet.
But the worst was yet to come, she realized, as he told her to get into a kneeling position. She stared at his cock, which had swollen into semirigidity as she had sucked his toes and rubbed his ankles with her tits. Frieda winced. I've got to suck that withered, sick old thing? Christ, what an ugly cock!
The judge nodded majestically to his prick. Frieda shuddered and bent forward. It was uncircumcised and a leathery sheath of skin covered most of the knob, and Christ, didn't he ever wash it? It smelled of old piss and stale cum and God only knew what! She nearly retched into his lap, but knew that she'd have to perform if she was going to live and try to find a way out of there.
Frieda took the prick in her right hand and pinched it gently. She glanced up at the judge; he was already smiling, propelled in another world while she knelt there. Holding the cock between two fingers of her right hand, she pushed the foreskin back with the thumb and index finger of her left. She felt as if she were skinning some repulsive snake, and she gagged at the thought.
"What's the problem?" he said, looking down severely at her.
She glanced at Miss Hudson, who looked as if she were about to intervene.
"Nothing, nothing," Frieda said quickly. The cockhead was ruddy and glistening with something, maybe sweat; she didn't particularly like the idea of putting it in her mouth, but she had already surrendered, and she certainly didn't have much choice now.
Lips open, teeth apart, tongue poised for action. She moved forward, her mouth sliding over the cockhead, closing around it, lips tightening and applying suction, her lower teeth digging gently into his cock's underside at its most sensitive spot right behind the knob.
"Aaaaaah!" the judge moaned.
A little more suction. A droplet of something, probably cum, spilled from the cockhead's piss-slit and landed on her tongue where she could taste it. She opened her mouth wider, moving the right hand farther back on the cock. She pushed forward with her mouth, swallowing as much of the prick as possible, three inches, four inches, five inches. Oh God! Her lips were against his sweaty groin!
His cock was becoming rigid now, and its stiff length was pressing against the roof of her mouth. She had to suck harder, run her right hand along the spit-slicked trail on his cock with her mouth to make him cum quicker. Frieda didn't know how much longer she could take this before she gagged.
She let a finger slide along the perineum toward his asshole to make him feel more excited, to hurry that bastard up, to get his jism out of his balls and onto her tongue so that she could get that withered prick out of her mouth.
Frieda moved her left hand into action now. Her fingers dug between his asscheeks while the fingers of her right hand moved back to his balls and stroked for a minute before wandering back up to the base of the cock so that she could finger and suck his cock at the same time.
The judge was groaning loudly now. He liked it, all right. Frieda sucked hard, as hard as she could, the sound of squishing filling the sunny room as her head bobbed back and forth faster and faster. She pushed the foreskin back with her lips or with the tip of her tongue, occasionally changing her stroke until, oh God, she could feel his ass rising off the chair. She could tell that his muscles were stiffening and his breath was coming in short wheezes and now. He was digging his fingernails into her scalp and slamming his cock hard against the back of her throat and crying out in agony.
She felt it spatter against the back of her throat.
Cum, spurt after spurt of it oozed onto Frieda's tongue. Finally he slowed down as his cock quit spurting. Frieda breathed a sigh of relief.
She pulled back, letting the judge's softening cock fall from her lips. She glanced at his face and saw how he was grinning stupidly. She spat the mingled saliva and cum onto the hardwood floor and grabbed her stomach just in time to keep from vomiting.
The judge scratched his left ear and looked down at Frieda, who was still kneeling at his feet. He laughed softly. "I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."
Frieda wanted to say something, but decided that under the circumstances it was unwise.
The judge nodded to Miss Hudson. "Ann will take you away now," he said in a businesslike tone. The blowjob that had sickened her was just another piece of business for him. She wondered how much he had to pay for her little service.
Frieda and Miss Hudson were almost out the door when she heard the judge call out: "You're the best one I've had so far. I'll be sure to ask for you next week."
"If she's still around, your honor," Miss Hudson said meaningfully. Frieda looked up and saw the woman smiling at her. She guessed that Max had left instructions as to what was to be done with her. The two guards had to support her the rest of ihe way back to the shed.
CHAPTER NINE
Miss Hudson escorted Frieda back to her shed at the end of the path. "Inside," she ordered brusquely. "Doris will tell you about the rest of the rules, I'm sure." With that Frieda was pushed into the shed and the door locked behind her. She found herself facing the girl she had met briefly the night before, a short, dark-haired girl whose body was exceptionally slim and delicate...almost childlike...but who nonetheless had disproportionately large tits.
"I'm Doris," the girl said, giving Frieda a friendly smile. "We met for a bit last night."
"Yes. Too bad we didn't talk more. I could have found out exactly just how this place operates."
"Oh, then you're not from the ranch in L.A.?"
"The ranch?" Frieda asked.
"Well, that's the name Miss Hudson always calls the old place in Los Angeles. Even though it's been closed for some time, girls occasionally come in here who worked there before. They tell us that it was nicer than this place."
Frieda was amazed by the babbling manner of Doris' conversation, as though she were talking about the latest movie in town or dress style from New York.
"How did they get to work there?" Frieda questioned, feeling that Doris might be a good source of information.
She gave her a curious glance, then shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Lots of ways. Some of them were pros to begin with, got hooked on drugs, got strung out, landed at the ranch. Mr. Berger and Miss Hudson kept them going, but I guess it cost them their freedom."
"Did you ever hear what happened to that place and how this one got started?"
"No, not really. Oh, there was some talk going around for a while about a raid, some killings and all that, but I don't know what to believe. They're really not too bad to you here if you do what they tell you."
Frieda knew that Max considered her too big a risk to keep her going. He'd get whatever mileage he could out of her cunt, then send her off to the spirit world.
"How did you get here?" Frieda asked her.
"I was a runaway. From home. I'm nineteen. I lived in San Francisco for a couple of years, then bummed around Monterey for a while until I wound up in Los Angeles. It seems Mr. Berger and Miss Hudson go on what they call "buying trips" occasionally...when they want new girls. You saw some of those goons out there with the riding crops...the guards? They go along too, everybody looking out for girls like me living alone, runaways, whatever, just as long as they don't have too many connections in the city. Then ZAP! The girl disappears and winds up here. They know the bars and coffee houses to go to."
Frieda realized Max's game now. He was using her mother as a front to give him the image of respectability while he ran this place staffed with girls no one would miss.
"He's crazy!" Frieda exclaimed, clutching her r.ead in horror.
"Crazy like a fox," Doris countered. "We're white slaves, honey. You'd better get used to the idea. None of us have any past, and there doesn't look like much of a future either."
"Has he. . . killed anyone yet?" It was a question Frieda found hard to ask.
"There've been stories," Doris said softly, looking around to make sure no one was listening. She motioned Frieda away from the door.
"They listen around here all the time. You can never tell when one of the guards or Miss Hudson is outside." Frieda looked around and shuddered, then leaned forward, ignoring the fact that Doris had begun to stroke her cuntlips while whispering to her. "The girls here don't last too long. I've been given special light duty because I'm young and a lot of the customers like me. Mr. Berger and Miss Hudson know a good thing when they see it and would hate to use me up too fast. But anyway, with some of the others, they'll disappear suddenly after maybe three weeks. Nobody says much about it, but we're all pretty sure about what happens. One of the girls said that one night her roommate...or I guess shedmate would be better-was taken from her mat in the middle of the night. Let's see, that was a couple of months ago, right after this place opened. The guards didn't close the door, so she followed them to the edge of the compound and saw them strangle the girl, then bury her by the fence."
Frieda shuddered visibly at the story, and partly at Doris' insistent prodding of her own cunt. "Hasn't anyone made a run for it?"
"I wouldn't try it. Those dogs they keep around here look pretty damn mean."
Frieda watched Doris lie down on her mat. She stretched out, sighed happily, and motioned for Frieda to climb aboard and lie down next to her. "Come on over, and we'll talk some more. You'd better relax, anyway. It's still early, and you'd better bet that Miss Hudson's got some plans for you still."
In about an hour Miss Hudson opened the door. I hope she wasn't watching or listening, Frieda thought, flushing red when she thought of how she had let Doris play with her ass and cunt...nothing serious, but it seemed to be the only way she could get any more information about Max, Miss Hudson, and this whole terrible place.
"You," she said, indicating Frieda, "come with me." Doris shrugged her shoulders and waved goodbye. Miss Hudson led Frieda back up the path to the house. This time, however, she climbed the grand stairway to the second floor to what she guessed was one of the bedrooMs. Miss Hudson opened the door and Frieda poked her head in. Inside the dimly lit room she could see a canopied bed. The drapes had been partially drawn to filter out most of the sunlight.
"You'll find all you need on that bed," Miss Hudson said, indicating a short, frilly frock and some red hair ribbons.
"What are they for?"
"This entire institution is dedicated to fantasy, my dear," she began in an exaggeratedly sweet voice. "Our customers come here to escape the world for a few minutes or a few hours, and we give them what they want. In this case, you're going to be a little girl at home whose mother's gone for a few hours. You're a good little girl, but a tittle horny for your age. Someone comes to the door, and, well I'm sure you can guess the rest."
Frieda's mouth hung open. She knew that there were people like that around...plenty of them, but now she was being told to play up to one.
"Oh, don't worry. I don't think he'd go near a nursery school with a bag of Hershey bars, let alone grab one of the kids and go home with her. He just likes to pretend, so pretend with him. I'll be around, so make it good. If he complains, I'll have to make sure you never give bad service to our customers again."
Frieda guessed the hidden meaning behind Miss Hudson's words, and tried not to show her fear as she approached the bed to get into the frock.
"Oh, by the way, since this man is one of our most important customers, we like to do everything right for him. So, I'm afraid you'll just have to come with me into the bathroom next door to have your cunt shaved."
"What!"
"A little girl of ten years old doesn't have pubic hair. You must know that."
"Well, of course, but, but..." Frieda sputtered.
"Well nothing. You follow me. We haven't got much time."
In a few minutes Frieda was back in the bedroom, feeling the heavily starched, cotton little-girl's dress. She glanced down at her crotch, and felt odd to have her cuntlips so exposed. It made her feel so unprotected and more than a little whorish. Oh well, what could she do but play the game until...until what?
With some trouble she wriggled into the Shirley Temple outfit and tied her hair into two braids that flopped over her ears on either side of her head. She looked at herself in the mirror. Christ, I feel like a stand-in for Bette Davis in Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? she thought.
She heard Miss Hudson's voice approaching the door, and could tell that there was someone with her...a man, probably the customer. She could tell Miss Hudson was giving him last-minute instructions.
"She's all ready, so all you have to do is knock on the door. Enjoy, Senator."
Senator! My God, Frieda thought. Frieda got up from the bed and went to the door.
"Yessss?" she said in a high, squeaky voice. If she played the part, maybe Miss Hudson would give her a little more free time like Doris, and she could find a way out of there. "Little girl, is your mommy in?" Frieda had the door opened a crack and could see the customer...short, fat and balding with a gray mustache, and perspiring heavily. A typical dirty old man, Frieda said to herself. "Noooo."
"Could I come in and wait for her?" God! His voice was so sweet that she wanted to suck a lemon.
"My mommy said that I shouldn't open the door to strangers, so go away!" She slammed the door hard and leaned against it, giggling audibly. She heard the man call for Miss Hudson disgustedly. Well, she didn't care, at least all that much. After all, they told her to be realistic, and what little ten-year-old in her right mind would open the door and let in an old creep like that one? "It's all right, Senator. I'm sure she's just playing her game to the hilt. Just knock again and she'll let you in." The last part of that was for Frieda's benefit.
"Little girl, little girl, please let me in. I'll make it worth your while. I've got something for you if you let me in," he pleaded.
Frieda winced at his lack of originality and opened the door fully. She saw his face and wanted to slam the door; but there was Miss Hudson standing in a corner, looking severely at her.
"Come in, mister. What've you got for little me?" Frieda chirped, skipping lightly to the bed.
The senator closed the door slowly, leering at her. Obviously he was pleased. Well, he should be. What ten-year-old girl's got forty-inch tits? She felt like a cross between Polyanna and Lolita as the senator walked up to her.
"Can you guess what it is?" he crooned, lowering his right hand to his fly, massaging the material between his right thumb and index finger.
"Noooo," she said softly, smacking her lips as she stared at the growing bulge between his legs. "Why don't you sit down next to me, mister, and we can wait for Mommy together?" she squeaked. The senator obviously enjoyed the suggestion, smacking his lips in excited expectation as he plopped beside her. She just wished he didn't wheeze so loudly. Frieda hoped that he wouldn't have a cardiac arrest before he got through. Miss Hudson would never forgive her for that.
Good lord, isn't he going to do anything? Why is he just. . . uh-oh, there goes that hand up my leg. Better put up a little resistance, then give in.
"Don't do that," Frieda said gently, tapping him lightly in protest on his left hand. "Mommy says that that's not nice."
The senator chuckled, then reached in his pocket for something.
Oh God, if he pulls that you-want-a-candy-bar routine I won't be able to keep a straight face. Instead, Frieda recognized what the senator had in his hand, a twelve-inch, white, two-inch diameter dildo complete with batteries. Well, this may be a little better than I thought if he fucks me with that instead of his cock.
"See this? It makes you feel good. Your mommy'd like you to feel good, wouldn't she?"
Frieda nodded her head up and down quickly, feeling that hand return to her leg. This time, she decided not to slap it away. It crawled slowly up toward her thigh as his breathing increased.
"Ohhh, that feels good, mister," Frieda said, spreading her thighs and hooking up the short skirt so that he could see her shaven cuntlips. She watched his eyes open, and realized that Miss Hudson knew just what her customers wanted. Without warning, he jumped off the bed and fell to his knees, clamping both his hands on the tops of her thighs and bending forward, kissing her bald cunt.
"Ohhh, mister, that feels great!" Frieda heard a faint buzzing sound, and knew that the scene was starting. She lay back on the bed, exposing her cunt completely to the senator's puckered lips.
"Ohhh, that feels good. Oh, yeah, mister! Please, stick your tongue into my little cunt! No, not there! Farther down. In the hole. Ohhh, yessss, that's it!" Frieda was shivering happily, and was surprised to find that she wasn't acting. The senator was old, but he had a damned good and experienced mouth.
"Ohhh, you're so much fun. Okay, that's plenty down there. Go to my little man in the boat. Lick me . . .yes. Yes, ooooh, God!" Frieda cried out joyfully. "Don't slow down, do it faster, ohhh, suck me hard, mister! Put your fingers in my little cunt and, oh wow, that's the way, I like it when you put your fingers in me, spread them a little, shove my nice little lips apart! Oooooh!"
Frieda closed her eyes as she felt the senator's tongue slip from her pussy and slide down to her ass. She felt the plastic cockhead disappear into her hot, juicy cunt. It was just like being fucked, only better. This entire act, the little girl's dress, brought back the memories of Norm Dickerson.
Norm Dickerson, the first boy who ever steamrollered into her cunt. Brian and she had fooled around a little, but by the time she was ready for action, he was off at boarding school and she was left high and dry. Norm lived next door at the time. He was fourteen, one year older than she was. She, Brian and Norm had played together since she could remember; but in that last year, he had begun to play a little funny. Whenever they were climbing trees, Norm was always under her and would always reach up to "help" her by shoving his hand into her ass, cupping her smooth, tender young asscheeks and massaging them in his palm. She should have said something that day, but Frieda had begun to feel some strong feelings in her cunt. When she got home, she noticed that her panties smelled funny after what Norm had done to her. It wasn't too long before she connected Norm's groping to her juicing and twitching cunt.
Then came that fateful day, the day her mother thought she should know about sex. She'd heard some things in school, and this rounded out her ideas. Frieda was thirteen, and now she wanted to practice what she'd learned.
One evening after dinner she ran outside to look for a meteorite shower the papers said would take place just after sunset. It was a hot, muggy June night, and she was really looking for Norm. She had to run into the middle of the field behind her house before she saw him. He was lying down in the grass, looking up at the darkening sky. Norm didn't hear her walk up until she was almost on top of him.
"Hi," she said, getting down on her knees next to his head.
"Hi. What're you doing here?"
"Just walkin' around." There must have been something in her tone of voice that triggered Norm. He started unzipping his pants.
"Hey, watch it!" Frieda warned, looking at the zipper slide all the way down his fly. She wanted to run away, and at the same time she wanted to stick her hand in and see if Norm's cock was as big as her brother's.
"Want to feel something good?" he asked.
"Maybe."
Norm didn't wait, but grabbed her hand and shoved it in. It felt thicker than Brian's but not as long. She shifted her position a little and felt that her panties were wet again.
"Let's get out of these," Norm suggested, pulling her hand out and pulling off his shirt.
Frieda protested at first, but then bit her lip and smiled. It might be fune. Besides, she'd have to learn some time, and why not with Norm?
"Just don't hurt me," she said.
"Don't worry," he said, standing in front of her naked.
She wondered if that thick cock would fit in her cunt. Brian had stuck a few fingers up there and played with her clit, but he hadn't done anything else.
"Come here," Norm said huskily.
She liked that tone of voice, something she'd never heard before. Frieda kissed him on the shoulder, tasting the salty flavor of sweat. She lowered herself and tried to nuzzle his chest with its light coating of adolescent hair. He's ticklish, she giggled to herself as she reached down and tugged on his balls. Norm groaned. Frieda sighed. She rolled her palms over his low-hanging jewels in their sac, kissing and being kissed now by Norm.
Aaaaah. He was touching her clit. She clenched her thighs together, then spread them apart. She liked it when he did that. He began to stroke her gently at first, then with greater intensity, and then he'd pretend that it was a harp string and strum it from side to side, finishing up by grabbing the knob between two fingers and pinching it delicately until Frieda threw back her head and cried out that she couldn't stand it any more.
"Ssshh!" he warned, putting his fingers to his lips.
Frieda was trying to get control of herself as she stood there, her legs apart, his fingers playing with her clit, her cuntlips, her pubic hair that was just starting to grow around her slit. He was touching her asshole, grazing the inner surfaces of her asscheeks and moving back to play with her cuntlips again before going back to her swollen,, aching clit.
Oh, Oh! OH! Her cunt muscles were twitching; she couldn't stop them. They were constricting in powerful spasms that grew stronger, stronger, as the climax within her began to explode. There she was, heaving, whimpering, rocking from side to side, almost falling to her knees as she seized his left hand for support.
"I'm cumming," she whispered hoarsely, and wondered if he could feel it when her cunt was contracting.
They were on the ground now and she was kissing him as the twitching subsided. She grabbed his face in both hands and forced her mouth against his, thrusting her tongue to push his lips apart and stab it deep into his mouth.
"I want to kiss your pussy," Norm said, sliding down her body until his mouth was level with her cunt. This had frightened her, feeling his tongue disappearing between the lips and into her cunt. Then she felt it move higher, its sharp tip darting against the swollen, pealike organ. Frieda uttered a cry of delight, and that made Norm attack her clit with pursed lips and make Frieda whimper from the suction. Then Frieda felt a spasm break in her crotch, and then another, and suddenly her cunt broke loose again with a long, twitching series of contractions so powerful that she threw her hips off the grass. Her ass jerked violently, and she felt a fresh torrent of juice trickle down her thighs as Norm slurped happily.
Norm crawled back up to her face. "Please, let me fuck you."
Frieda grimaced at that word. Besides, she was afraid. Babies came that way. She wasn't particularly worried about the pain. She'd lost her cherry long ago when, after a day of horseback riding, she fell right in front of the stables. They didn't know if it had been the hard riding or the fall that had opened her up. But she remembered her mother saying that at least she wouldn't have any trouble on her wedding night. It wasn't for several years until she knew what her mother meant.
"I'll be careful," Norm said.
She felt as if she were floating in a dreamworld, and everything were possible. In seconds Norm was on top of her, and she could feel his thick cock poking at her cuntlips. His prick touched her crotch, and Frieda reached down to guide it into position. The cockhead was hot and stiff, excited to the point that she was afraid he might shoot before he got it in her. Frieda happily guided the knob between her cuntlips. "Fuck me," she said in a whisper. She whimpered joyfully as she felt the prick slowly dilating the tight, quivering membranes of her cunt.
This was it, she thought as bolts of pain shot from her cunt and racked her body. Norm was having trouble getting it in. She was tight, a virgin, so to speak. But Frieda's juices came to the rescue, lubricating her membranes so well that after he pushed the cockhead past her outer lips, the rest was easy going.
Frieda felt wonderfully stretched, delightfully cuffed by his thrusting, twisting, trembling cock. The prick felt like a pole inside her, what with all its tension, heat and muscle.
"Oh, fuck me," Frieda groaned.
The words themselves excited her as well as him. She shivered as she heard the squishing sound of his cock as it slid and pumped faster and faster in her violated cunt. Norm groaned again and reached down to grab her clit between two fingers. When he stroked it, she shuddered. When he tugged on it, she nearly screamed. She began to beg him to fuck her harder and stick it in deeper, and to suck her tits and to touch her some more.
Frieda felt herself rocketing to the summit. She threw her arms out, grabbing clutches of field grass for support, to keep herself on the ground, for she felt she'd blast off if she didn't. Frieda felt his body stiffen while he licked her nipples and began to fire his cum into the hot, steamy recesses of her cunt.
They stayed locked together until it was completely dark. The next thing she remembered was the meteorite shower, like a million automobile headlights streaming through the sky, and she clenched her cunt muscles, squeezing Norm's flaccid cock, and she felt so warm and loved and tender.
Gradually Frieda became aware of her present circumstances. She felt the plastic cock sliding in and out of her snatch. She could smell her cunt juice, and realized that she was excited. Her memories of Norm Dickerson had done that, she realized; thinking of Norm had made her excited. She clamped her cunt muscles around the senator's dildo and groaned.
"Little girl like that?" he said playfully, pulling out the plastic cock.
Frieda looked up and saw that his face was contorted with passion. His cock was jutting out of his open fly, and he was jerking it back and forth with his right hand. He stared at her for several minutes, then reached under his suit jacket and unfastened his belt. In an instant he dropped his pants and crawled onto the bed between her legs.
"I'm gonna fuck you, little girl. I'm gonna jam my dirty old cock into your sweet little pussy!"
The game had changed a little. Now, she was supposed to pretend to be afraid and try to fight back...but still play helpless.
"No, no, noooo!" she cried as he flashed a twisted smile.
The senator grabbed her pounding fists and held them behind her head while he mounted her.
Got to play the little girl to the hilt, she thought as she clenched her cunt muscles together to make entry difficult.
The senator saw this and smiled. "Little girl's twat too tight? That's too bad, but the big old man's gonna fuck you anyway."
And this is a senator? Oh well, different strokes... He's in now, got to scream and complain. Frieda twisted and bucked, screaming and whimpering while the senator wheezed and pumped even harder.
Finally, the senator inhaled sharply, gritted his teeth, and shot his load into her. Frieda grimaced, a look that excited the senator even more. But her expression was a true one this time. The whole scene was as ridiculous as it was disgusting. This old man fucking a young woman in an overgrown little girl's frock. She knew it would be in character if she covered her face, rolled onto her stomach, and whimpered quietly into the bedspread while the senator pulled up his pants and walked out, satisfied.
CHAPTER TEN
Frieda never thought that she'd feel more comfortable naked in public than clothed; but she sighed with relief when she tossed off that cum-stained frock and was ushered back to her shed. As Miss Hudson slammed and locked the door behind her, Frieda looked around for Doris, thinking that she'd pump her for more information on Max, Hudson and this new "ranch" if she could. But the girl was gone. Probably servicing another customer; hope she has better luck than I did, Frieda thought as she went back to her mat and squatted down. She wondered if they were looking for her...Bill, her mother, Betty, Brian. Surely they must have suspected something by now. She was gone, those documents under her mattress, Bill's own suspicions about Max, not to mention Betty's...they must have put it all together.
The day dragged by slowly. No one came to get her again, which was at least a little reason to be happy. By her stomach and the light outside, Frieda guessed that it was about dinner time, and still Doris wasn't back. She began to get a little worried, and decided to ask whoever would give her dinner where the girl was. The story Doris told her of other girls suddenly disappearing without a trace began to play on her mind.
Finally the door opened. Miss Hudson was standing in between the two men who had escorted her to the shed last night.
"Dinner's served," Miss Hudson announced haughtily, sneering at Frieda, who was crouching on the mat.
"Where's Doris?" Frieda asked nervously.
Miss Hudson smiled, then signaled the guard on her right to place a tray of food at the doorway. "We don't talk about where the girls are. I'm sure she's fine."
"But it's time for dinner, and she's not..."
"You'll find that we have customers who come in here all times of day, Frieda. Today, you were lucky. The men I selected for you came in early, so you had the rest of the day off. Tomorrow, you might not be that lucky. Who knows? In any case, eat your dinner. I don't want the customers complaining that my girls look like concentration camp debutantes."
Frieda wanted to take the tray and shove it hard into Miss Hudson's face, but looked at the two guards and decided that it would be wiser for her to follow instructions.
The food wasn't bad...two pork chops, carrots, mashed potatoes, and milk. She finished her dinner and waited for Doris' return. But the girl didn't come. Nine o'clock passed and still no Doris. Frieda pretended to be asleep when Miss Hudson made the rounds with the guards to check on the girls, but she couldn't close her eyes. She began to pect that Doris had met the same fate as that poor girl who was dragged from her mat in the znddle of the night.
She didn't sleep well that night, waking up after having had a nightmare that included dogs chasing her, Max fucking her, and the senator trying to make her put on a white pinafore. Frieda looked around to see if Doris had come in during the night. Her mat was unoccupied! Frieda was almost certain that she would never see Doris again...not, at least, breathing.
The guards brought in the usual bread and water, but Frieda noticed that Miss Hudson wasn't with them. She sopped up the meal...a little more than she had yesterday...walked outside and squatted to take a piss and shit, wiped her ass and cunt with some field grass she found nearby, and started to return to her shed.
"Not today," she heard the guard say. He grabbed her by the right shoulder and spun her around. "We've got a little show planned for the girls, and you're going to be in it."
She shuddered as the guard led her toward the open courtyard in front of the main building. The other girls were standing in a group to the left of the house, whispering to one another and pointing toward Frieda. They looked at her pityingly, and her heart sank.
"Stay here," the guard gruffly ordered her as he walked up to the front door. He left her with the girls, who flocked around her as soon as he had disappeared inside.
"What are they going to do to me?" she whispered hoarsely.
"We don't know," one of the girls volunteered. "They just told us that the new girl was going to have to really hump today. We all knew they meant you. Then they rounded us up and brought us here. That's when we knew you were going to wind up in the plaza."
The girl's voice trembled at the word "plaza". So, that was what they called this place. It looked pleasant enough...a wide, grassy area in front of the main entrance. But what went on there probably was far from enjoyable...at least from her point of view.
Frieda looked around and saw a group of men standing on the other side. She recognized the judge and the senator, and guessed that the others were Max's and Miss Hudson's best customers. They were all there for something big.
The door opened and Miss Hudson walked out, smiling to the men. Behind her were the two guards Frieda recognized and Doris! Her hair was stringy, dirty, matted, and her face was bloated. She looked as if she'd been beaten...bruises just under her eyes and dried blood above her lip indicated that someone had worked her over. She heard the girls whisper nervously behind her. Somehow they sensed that they were about to witness something horrible, something far beyond anything they'd ever seen at the ranch. Frieda shook visibly with the knowledge that somehow she was going to be implicated in whatever Miss Hudson had planned for Doris.
As the girl came into full view Frieda cried out in alarm as did the girls behind her. Sticking out of her cunt was a four-inch diameter iron pipe, wiggling every time Doris took a step. It protruded from her stretched-taut cuntlips about six inches... God only knew how deep it was buried...and was obviously painful to the girl. So this was the reward of light duty. After this she wouldn't be good for anyone. This was probably their last look at Doris.
Miss Hudson signaled the guards to halt as she turned to the gathering of men who were obviously very impressed by Doris' condition.
"Gentlemen. We told you that we had a special treat for you all today. Well, there she is, our own little Doris who's going to entertain you today...with the help of Frieda. As you can see, Doris was a Httle reluctant to help out at first, but she finally agreed...with a little persuasion, of course."
The men nodded their heads and murmured approval as Frieda looked at them with disgust.
She thought she could see the judge and senator almost frothing with excited expectancy.
"Bring out the jackass!" Miss Hudson ordered. At first, Frieda thought she was referring to Max. But then she saw several of the guards leave the plaza and walk around the corner. Frieda heard braying, and recognized the sound as that of a donkey.
Her blood froze. She had heard of donkey shows in Mexico where the animal mounts a girl in front of an audience of beer-swizzling sailors and old men. But those girls were specially trained...some of them even had their cunts enlarged surgically...at least the opening. But this...and to Doris, Doris who'd done nothing.
Then Frieda wondered what her part in this disgusting spectacle would be. She looked at Doris, who seemed to be oblivious to everything. She stood in one spot, her arms hanging limply at her sides and her eyes glazed over like some obedient, stupid animal. The braying seemed to snap the girl out of her trance, and she looked around. It was obvious that she wanted to run but was afraid to make the attempt. It really didn't matter; she would have been caught anyway, Frieda knew.
Doris cried out when the two guards left the donkey standing in the middle of the plaza and came toward her. From the house two more guards were carrying a large wooden table about three feet high. On one end were straps that would obviously restrain her arMs. At the other were a pair of stirrups, one on each side. What was going to happen was all too clear to them.
Doris cried out and tried to run when the table was brought down and placed next to the donkey. But the two guards merely smiled grimly and grabbed her by either arm and dragged her toward the table. When it became apparent that they would have difficulty getting her on the table, one of them took the night stick he had strapped to his belt and smacked it smartly across her tits. She cried out in pain, throwing up her hands to protect her tits while he then rammed the tip of his stick deep into her belly.
Doris collapsed to the ground while Frieda and the girls tried to look the other way, but they couldn't. Frieda wondered how long it would be until she and the others began to vomit.
"Get her up there, quick!" Miss Hudson hissed to the guards, then turned and smiled to the men. "Just a little problem, gentlemen. She'll be up there in a few minutes and you'll see a show that's rare to find anywhere today."
By now Doris was strapped tightly onto the table. There seemed to be something horribly obscene about her spreadeagled position. There she was, her cunt and asshole exposed to anyone who wanted to look while she was tied down helplessly beside an animal who was about to fuck her! And that pipe! Frieda knew now why they had shoved it deep inside the poor girl...to prepare her for fucking the donkey.
Miss Hudson walked over to Doris' exposed ass and tugged on the pipe. Doris screeched in pain, writhed and bucking in her bonds. Frieda watched some of the men reach down to their crotches and start fondling their gradually expanding cocks.
"At times like these," Miss Hudson said, "it's perhaps best to pull out quickly." With that, she gave a vicious tug at the pipe and it came flying out with an audible pop that made Frieda's skin crawl. There was a small but steady stream of blood that trickled from Doris' cunt.
"And now, the show. Come here, Frieda," Miss Hndson ordered.
Frieda approached the older woman reluctantly. She wished she had something she could stab or hit her with as she saw Miss Hudson's eyes blazing bright with sadistic triumph.
"Just stand there, Frieda. We'll use you when the donkey's already mounted her."
Frieda's mouth fell open. How could that woman stand there and so casually say what was going to happen?
Miss Hudson stepped to one side and the guards led the donkey around to Doris' stretched cunt. He must have been trained for this, because Frieda saw his animal cock start to grow longer and longer, thicker and thicker until it was full length, twitching in excitement. It must have been well over one foot long, and unbelievably thick. She wondered if that pipe had stretched Doris' cunt wide enough for it. Frieda doubted it.
The animal brayed excitedly, and they all saw it foaming at the mouth. Miss Hudson nodded, and the men led the donkey right to the girl's quivering, bleeding cunt. The animal immediately placed its bulbous nose against Doris' panting belly and sniffed; a second or two later, it was smelling the girl's pubic hair. Doris lifted her head and came face to face with her attacker. Her eyes widened in terror for a second, then her mouth opened and became a twisted cavity emitting an inhuman screech of revulsion and horror.
At first Miss Hudson looked as though she were going to have Doris clubbed again. But she turned around and saw four or five of her prime customers with their cocks out of their pants, stroking them frenziedly. Obviously, they loved the idea that Doris was being forced against her will to submit to this grotesque act. The older woman smiled, then nodded to the guards. They pushed the donkey forward, forcing him to rear back on his legs and place his forelegs on the table. His black-brown knotty cock was only inches from Doris' cunt.
Frieda retched, covered her mouth with her right hand, and felt her body twitch spasmodically, Good God! she thought as she tried to fight back the stinging fluid that was rising from her stomach. God in heaven, this can't be real!
But it was far too real. The donkey's head was directly over Doris', his saliva dripping down in gobs onto her tossing head. She screamed, threw up, then screamed again as the tip of his prick brushed against her sore cunt. The animal seemed startled at first by Doris' screaming, but was kept up on the table by the guards. In several minutes, it seemed to get used to the girl's cries and resumed its probing of her cunt.
"Frieda, get under him and suck his balls," Miss Hudson commanded.
Frieda couldn't believe she had heard her correctly. When she saw a guard coming at her, she knew she did. Frieda first thought of trying to make a break for it, even if they did try to kill her. Anything would be better than sucking that donkey's balls. Then, she thought that at least she'd be alive afterward.
She walked forward up to the animal's ass. She saw the two brown sacs, hanging like two ripe coconuts just below the donkey's twitching tail.
"Suck them!" Miss Hudson ordered. Frieda knelt down and closed her eyes. She could feel the hairs of the tail brush her forehead as she leaned forward and stuck out her tongue. She could smell the stench of donkey shit as she moved her face closer to the animal's cum sacs. Frieda took a tentative lick at one of the leathery testicles and heard the animal bray out in surprised excitement. He jerked forward, jamming the tip of his long, tapered cock into Doris' cunt. The girl groaned in agony.
"More! Suck them more!" the judge called out, frigging his cock wildly.
Frieda slid under the animal until his balls were directly under her nose. She reached up and rolled them on her palMs. Oh God, the skin felt hot and hairy and rough. The animal shivered again and let out another cry. Frieda heard Doris scream and guessed that he was shoving his cock deeper into her violated cunt.
"Wrap those lips around his balls and start strumming yourself or I'll personally make sure neither of you walk away from here," Miss Hudson hissed to Frieda.
Jesus, I've got to pretend to get turned on! she thought as she moved the thumb and forefinger of her right hand to her cunt and started to strum her clit mechanically. There was no way Frieda could excite herself. She was surprised that she didn't wind up throwing up on the animal's balls. The one thing she felt thankful for was that she couldn't see what the animal was doing to Doris, although by the girl's cries and the animal's braying, she guessed that he was almost all the way in. As she ran her tongue up and down the shit-smelling sacs, Frieda watched the underbelly of the donkey rise and fall with each thrust he made into Doris' cunt. With each forward push, she heard Doris cry out in agony.
Finally, Frieda noticed that the donkey's pumping was growing faster. He must be close to cumming, Frieda thought, increasing her tonguing and even applying suction to the tender bottoms of those disgusting balls to hurry the animal along. There was the sound of sudden panting, and Frieda knew that the donkey was shooting his wad deep into the girl's cunt.
Frieda thought the animal would never stop. Finally, she heard Miss Hudson.
"All right, Frieda, you did very well. You can come out from there now."
She scurried out hurriedly from under the donkey's legs, afraid that they'd let her be trampled if she didn't move fast enough. By the time she turned around to look at Doris, the animal had been led off the table.
Good God! Doris was a twitching, screaming, bleeding mess. Blood and something lighter Frieda guessed was the donkey's cum flowed freely from a hairy gash she guessed used to be Doris' cunt. In between the agonized screams, Frieda could hear Doris begging them to get the animal out of her. She was in shock. Frieda shifted her gaze to the men opposite her. The judge, senator and others had flipped their pricks back into their pants and were congratulating a smiling Miss Hudson on a fine show.
It was all too grotesque for Frieda to take any longer.
"Aren't you going to do anything about her?" she blurted out to Miss Hudson, indicating Doris. "You just can't leave her like this. She'll die."
Frieda knew that the men didn't want any unpleasantness, whether it was from her accusations or Doris dying on the spot. She had Miss Hudson on the spot for once, and she was going to make the most of it.
"Take her off the table and into the house," she told one of the guards.
Frieda knew that Doris would never leave the house alive if she went in there.
"I'll take care of her, Miss Hudson. Why bother anybody inside?" Frieda said.
Frieda almost fell back from the severe stare the woman gave her.
"Speak when spoken to, and only then, Frieda. I said I'll take care of her, and I will. Now, all you girls, back to your sheds."
Frieda went back to her shed and sat on her mat sullenly. She looked over in the empty corner at Doris' place. She'd known her only a few hours, but had really begun to like the girl. Her hatred of Max and Miss Hudson knew no bounds. She wondered what Max had in store for her. She couldn't imagine him treating her the same as the other girls. He had a special liking, or was the word "disliking" better, for her. If the other girls lasted about three weeks here, she'd be lucky if she were alive after three days. If there were only some way to get out of here she'd testify before the world if she had to of Max's inhumanity, no matter what sort of scandal it brought down on her family. Her family. Oh Brian, she thought, envisioning her brother's smiling, innocent face, what our mother's gotten us into!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Frieda didn't have time to brood on her probleMs. She heard violent, arguing voices approaching her shed, then the door was kicked in viciously. It was Max, standing there next to Miss Hudson. She wondered what was wrong. "Old man Scotty," as the girls called her behind her back, looked terribly frightened about something, while Max was standing at the doorway, his eyes ablaze with hatred.
"You, you fuckin' bitch!" he screamed, stomping in and grabbing her by the shoulders. Frieda thought he was going to smash her to the ground, and cried out in fear. "You weren't lookin' for any pictures in the desk drawer, were you?"
Suddenly, it all flashed clear to her. He must have discovered the missing ledger and other documents.
"No," she said defiantly, shaking his hands loose from her shoulders. "Did you notice anything missing?"
Frieda heard Max panting like a hunted animal who was trying to get away from his pursuers.
They must have found the papers and figured out his little game. They're after him! Frieda thought.
"You fuckin' bitch! You know Goddamned well what's missin'! What did you do with those letters and-"
"The ledger?"
He looked as though he could kill her on the spot, but Frieda didn't care. She knew that his time was up, and she was enjoying every second of his end. "The police have it."
Both Max and Miss Hudson couldn't disguise their surprise.
"The police? Oh, Max. We'd better get out of here. If they've got those things, even the old ones, it won't take them too long to..."
"Shut up!" he retorted viciously. "They don't know where this place is. Yeah, we'll have to get out of here in a hurry. But we've got more time than we did the last time. Get the guards to drug the girls we want to take and toss them into my pickup. The rest of them ..." He paused, and looked at Frieda. "... well, you know what to do."
Miss Hudson looked at him carefully, and nodded in obedience. She started for Frieda, who shrank back.
"Not her...at least, not yet. I've got something special planned for this one. Are those guys still here?"
"Our customers who saw the donkey show?"
"Yeah. If they are, tell them to stick around. We've got some time, and I want to give them a show I think they'll enjoy. Keep 'em coming back by showing them the new, I say."
Miss Hudson looked quizzically at him. Obviously this was an entertainment he had failed to inform her of, but she nodded quickly and ran up the path.
"Whatever you're planning, you'll never get away with it, Max. The police almost caught you last time, and they'll get you for sure this round."
"I don't know how you got wise to me, and I don't care," he sneered. "I got away before, and
I'll do it this time. But I wanted to make sure that you knew what it was to cross me, baby."
He grabbed her and hustled her along the path to the plaza. On the way to the house Frieda heard screaming coming from some of the sheds. A few of the doors were opened and she could see guards holding down some of the girls while others were injecting something into their arms.
Max dragged her up the stairs and down the hall like a sack of spuds. They reached the sunny room at the end of the hall where she'd sucked off the judge. Max let go of her after he pushed her forward toward the windows.
Frieda looked around and saw the same men standing there who had witnessed Doris' destruction a few minutes before. Turning around, she saw a woman lying on a dining room table. Some of Max's guards were holding down her feet and legs. She must have been brought in only seconds before. Her clothes were scattered on the floor next to the table.
Frieda approached the table and was horrified to see that the woman was her mother! She looked at her daughter. It was obvious that she didn't understand any of this.
"What have you done, and why?" Frieda asked him, horrified. She saw that Max was enjoying this. "She doesn't know anything. Why take it out on her?"
Max walked up to Frieda and put his thumb and forefinger under her chin. He turned and looked at Frieda's mother. "I suppose it would surprise you to know that I've fucked your daughter, wouldn't ::?"
Frieda watched her mother's eyes widen in horror.
"And that she gave me a blowjob. Probably it'd surprise you even more that your precious son and daughter have beening fucking right under your own roof for the past few weeks."
Frieda saw tears well up in her mother's eyes and trickle down her face, while at the same time she heard murmurs of approval from the group of men behind her.
"You've been the only one, old lady, who's been missing out on the action. Well, not any more."
Frieda froze. What was he planning to do, fuck her mother in front of all these people?
"Bring him in," Max ordered. Two men stepped out for a second, then pushed a young man into the room. It was her brother!
"Brian! They've got you here too? Oh my God!"
"God won't help you here," Max snarled.
Frieda saw that her brother had been severely beaten, and that he was just now coming out of unconsciousness. He was focusing his eyes, and in a few minutes was able to take in the whole scene...his sister, the ogling men, Max, Miss Hudson, the guards, and his mother on the table. He trembled with rage and tried to break loose.
"Hold him!" Max ordered. "I'll bet you want to know how I got hold of them," he said to Frieda, enjoying his triumph. "It was a good thing I ran into your mother first. That damned dyke girl friend of your brother's was gone, but your mother told me she had something from my desk, something you gave her and something that upset her. It didn't take me too long to figure out what it was after I went through the drawers. Then it all fell together. I caught you after you'd stashed away some of those ledgers for Betty to find. She found them after I'd brought you here and ran out, as you've just told me, to the police."
The men in the back of the room looked startled. "Mr. Berger, uh, we don't want to interrupt, but, well, with the police and all ... " the judge began.
"Don't worry, your honor. They have no idea where this place is. It'll take 'em a week to find it, if they ever do. By that time, we'll be gone."
This seemed to calm them down, and Max continued.
"I don't know how you got on to me, and I don't care. Anyway, I decided to fix this family's wagon once and for all. Your brother came home. It seems Betty was in such a hurry that she didn't tell him anything. It was pretty easy for me to bring him to my way of reasoning," Max said, patting the nightstick that hung from his belt.
"Max, Max, don't! Leave them alone, please!" her mother pleaded.
"And you, you old whore. You think I married you for anything except a front?"
"I...I..." her mother stammered.
"The only thing that made it bearable was that young cunt flouncing around the house. So, here we are. I promised you gentlemen a show and you're going to get one. I'm sorry, but I of course had to go through all this to bring you up to date. Now, for a little fun."
Max walked up to Brian, who was still being restrained by two guards.
"Fuck your mother," he said nonchalantly.
At first Brain looked as though he thought Max were making a comment. He looked questioningly at him.
"Didn't you hear me? I said I want you to fuck your mother, so take off your clothes and get to it. I haven't got all day."
"Nooooo!" Brian howled, struggling to get free. Frieda started to run to him, but Max grabbed her before she got there. He pulled a knife from his jacket pocket, opened it, and held its tip just under the right side of her chin.
"Now, you're going to do as you're told, or this little girl is gonna have a hole in her throat that's gonna be hard to patch up."
Frieda first thought that he might be bluffing. He wouldn't kill her in front of all these witnesses. But then she thought of all of them in the plaza, publicly masturbating while a young girl was being torn to pieces by a donkey. They'd probably think it was kicky to watch her bleed to death in front of them.
"He'll do it, Brian. Believe me," she said. Her brother looked helplessly at her. "Frieda, I can't. She's my mother."
"Aw, ain't that sweet...his mother!" Max said, turning to the men in the rear of the room. The air was filled with chuckling and heavy breathing.
Frieda knew that Max would probably try to kill them after it was all over; but at least this way they'd have time to think of something, anything. Sometimes the best plans are made under pressure...but she needed time, at least a little bit. "Well?" Max said impatiently. "Brian, please," Frieda pleaded. Her mother lay on the table moaning.
Brian said nothing, but nodded in agreement. The guards let his arms go so he could undress. He reddened as he pulled off his sweatshirt and slipped off his shorts.
"Well, looky there. No hard-on. Can't have a fuck unless you get it stiff!" Max was.enjoying this to the hilt, Frieda observed.
"Goddamn it, I can't!" Brian exclaimed. "No problems there, son. Frieda, I'm afraid I'll have to trust you. But remember: there's a room full of us and only two of you."
Max took the knife from her neck and let her go. Frieda knew what he wanted. Under other circumstances she would have had no objections. But now, the idea of touching her brother seemed filthy, obscene, and worst possible thing she could think of doing. She looked at Brian and saw that he was thinking the same thing.
"What's taking you so long? Never took you too much time before to flip your brother's cock in your mouth. You couldn't get enough of it. So, TAKE IT!" Max's last words rang out like gun shots. All through his little speech Max had tried to play the part of the gentleman...speaking in a dignified tone while authoring a hideous crime.
Frieda walked up to her brother, looked apologetically into his face, then sank to her knees. She took Brian's cock between two fingers of her right hand and saw it spring into a semierection. Even in this situation Brian couldn't help himself when his sister touched him.
Slowly, she stuck out her tongue and started rubbing it gently under the cockhead. She saw Brian's muscular belly draw in sharply and felt his prick spring up further, bouncing against her upper lip. Frieda took a deep breath, opened her jaws, pushing her mouth over the stiffening prick, and started to suck.
After a few moments, Frieda backed away and saw that her brother's cock was fully extended, and looked at Max to see if she were through. He flashed a savage look at her, and motioned her to go on. Again she lowered her mouth over the swollen purple cockhead. Brian began to buck with passion, arching his hips slightly and lifting his heels off the floor. His rising cock throbbed furiously inside Frieda's hot wet mouth, his ass contracting and releasing regularly.
Frieda began to forget where she was...her mother, Max, Miss Hudson...everything seemed to melt into the background. All that was real was Brian and his hot, massive cock. She swirled her :;ngue around the underside of the cockhead until the shaft started throbbing almost uncontrollably. Frieda released his cock, and as it bounced and jerked wildly in the air, she moved her mouth down to Brian's balls. She clamped her lips around them, pulling them deep into her mouth.
"Ohhhh!" her brother moaned.
He was cumming. She hadn't been sucking him for more than a minute or two and he was ready to shoot his load. Well, maybe this would save her mother the agony of being fucked by her own son. Frieda released his balls and went back to his twitching cock. She ran her tongue around the base of Brian's massive prong, then quickly slid it up the underside to the sensitive head.
But both Max and Miss Hudson were too much the pros to let Frieda suck up the hot jism boiling in her brother's balls.
"Get back!" Max ordered.
Reluctantly, Frieda opened her mouth and let Brian's cock go.
"Now climb on the table and fuck her," Max ordered.
Brian realized there was little he could do but comply with his stepfather's orders. He walked slowly over to the table, where four guards were holding her down. At Max's signal, the two in front hoisted up her legs until they were in a spreadeagle position, exposing her cunt and asshole. Frieda's mind flashed back to Doris, poor Doris. Only a short while ago she was in the same position just a few feet away being fucked by a donkey. Now it was her mother, held down on the table, helpless, about to be fucked by her own son.
"She's probably dry, so you'd better slick 'er up a little."
Brian hesitated, then leaned forward and started tonguing his mother's cunt. Frieda heard her mother scream, then she arched her back stiffly, lifting her asscheeks off the table. Brian grabbed the outsides of both her thighs and pushed her down. Frieda was surprised to see that her brother seemed to be enjoying what he was doing...or at least, wasn't fighting the feeling.
Max had an idea. "Move that old bitch to one end of the table," he told the guards. They slid Frieda's mother to one end of the table. "Now, Miss Hudson, escort Frieda to the table."
Frieda wondered what this was all about, but had no choice but to obey. As Miss Hudson dragged her forward and propped her up on the table's edge, Frieda turned around and saw Bill through the window, standing by the sheds looking around with several police officers! They were tying up the guards and freeing some of the girls. They must have snuck up on them without arousing any suspicion, because she hadn't heard any shots or shouting. The dogs were barking furiously, but that didn't seem to bother anyone inside. They were too intent on watching what was going on in the room.
It was only a matter of time, she thought, smiling to herself as she lay back and exposed her cunt. Frieda knew instinctively that Max wanted exactly that. There they were, side by side, mother and daughter, their cunts exposed. Brian continued chewing on his mother's twat until he saw Frieda throw up her legs. He moved to her cunt, stabbing his tongue into the slick gash. He was licking her clit, slobbering on her inner lips, poking his tongue into the interior of her cunt, moving his body back and forth in erotic abandon.
Fuck me! Frieda thought, unable to control the rising tension that built in her belly and made her cunt twitch with pleasure.
He shifted his face slightly, pushing his nose into her cunt this time, poking forward until his nose was buried deep between the lips of her pussy. In spite of her growing passion Frieda was aware that her mother was groaning.
Frieda raised her head slightly and saw that Miss Hudson had moved to the front of the table and now was crouching down in front of her mother's cunt like some sort of pilgrim worshiping at a religious shrine, except that her face was buried in that exposed twat!
Frieda's mother gritted her teeth as she felt the tongue snake up toward her clitoris; she shivered in fear and disgust as a finger stroked her asshole. She felt Miss Hudson's tongue settle on her clit for an instant; then she could feel a pair of lips closing around the tiny knob, pursing as if to suck, and now the older woman was applying suction. She started screaming and twisting on the table.
"Leave her alone!" Frieda wailed.
Max sneered, then pulled Miss Hudson gently away from his wife's cunt. "My wife's got better things to do with her snatch," he growled.
Frieda winced at the idea that Max was married to her mother. Mrs. Max Berger! Oh God! And only now her mother was realizing what a murdering pig she'd attached herself to.
Frieda's thoughts were interrupted by another of her mother's screaMs. This time Frieda almost joined her. Max had ordered Brian to climb on the table and fuck his mother. At the same time the senator had come forward, unable to restrain himself and remain in the back. His withered cock was protruding angrily from his opened fly.
"Such a pretty little mouth," he said mincingly. "It was soooo nice before as my little girl. Do it again."
Frieda looked at him angrily. "Get fucked!"
He was astonished. His little girl was talking like a Hollywood hooker. "What?"
"You heard me, you old fart, I said get fucked. I'm tired of playing your stupid, filthy games."
"Mr. Berger; Miss Hudson," the senator called complainingly.
Max and Miss Hudson rushed to the table and took position behind Frieda, pushing her back flat against the table top and pulling her back until her head dangled over the edge. Max pulled out his knife again and held it at her throat.
"You get the picture, little girl?"
Frieda nodded as best she could. She waited until Max moved away then parted her lips, about to announce to everyone in the room that their game was up...that the police were at the door and probably would be busting the whole filthy lot of them in a matter of minutes...when she felt something hot and rubbery slip into her mouth. Then she felt something trying to enter her cunt. It felt like fingers! It must be Brian. She heard him groaning, could hear the squishing of his cock as it slid in and out of her mother's cunt. She spread her legs so that he could have more area to work in with his fingers.
Frieda started lifting her ass up and down, slapping it hard against the table top only to propel it up in the air again, impaling her cunt on Brian's probing fingers. Her brother seemed to have forgotten it was his mother under him. His eyes were closed, sweat beading his forehead, plastering his blond hair to the skin while rivers of perspiration ran down his neck, over his taut nipples and down his panting belly. The men in the back had drawn closer to the table, staring at the mechanical pumping of the young man's cock as it slid rapidly in and out of his mother's protesting cunt. Like Frieda, they too were excited by the wet sucking sound his prick made against the slick walls of his mother's twat, and by the slapping of his balls against her upturned ass.
Brian began shouting something unintelligible, muffled grunts that told Frieda he was cumming. She could stand it no longer. She humped and jabbed and impaled herself fiercely on his jerking fingers until she felt her cunt contract sharply in a series of explosions that racked her sweat-slicked body. Brian's grunt and Frieda's bucking weren't lost on the senator. He slammed his old prick harder and harder into Frieda's panting mouth until he cried out.
Frieda had almost forgotten about him, but was quickly reminded when she felt spurts of thick white cum drip down her throat.
Finally he was through, and withdrew his cock from her mouth. Frieda tried to spit the sticky cum onto the floor, but realized she'd swallowed it because of the awkward position she was in.
"You old pig," she mumbled as he went back to his cronies, zipping up his fly and chuckling in triumph. Frieda glanced to her right and saw her mother, her eyes wide open and glazed over. She was in shock, Frieda knew, and she reached over to try to slap her face and bring her back to reality.
"You want to get into her too?" Max sneered.
Frieda couldn't believe the incredible filthiness of the man.
"She's in shock," Frieda said disgustedly.
"Your brother seems to be sharing the same condition," Max observed.
Frieda looked at Brian, who had just finish squirting the last of his steaming load of jism deep into his mother's cunt. His head hung limply on his chest and his body heaved with sobs.
"Oh, Jesus, what have I done?" he kept repeating over and over. Frieda reached out to comfort him.
"You couldn't help it, Brian. You had to do it. Everything'll be all right, you'll see."
"Very touching," Max said dryly, "but the game's over. Come on, down from the table."
Frieda shrank from Max's hand. She would rather throw herself out the window if she had to than touch her stepfather. Suddenly the door to the room burst open. Everyone wheeled around to see Bill and a squad of police officers, guns drawn, looking every inch like they meant business. Frieda was never so happy to see a man before in her life. Bill's eyes were steely and he crouched on the floor, his right arm stretched out, holding his .38 steadily.
"All right, everybody...game's over. Don't try anything or I'll drop you right there."
Miss Hudson screamed and almost fainted. She had reason to be upset. Max just stood at the foot of the table and stared stupidly at the police. Bill ran up to him and threw him to the floor. Frieda could tell from the look on his face that he had to use every ounce of restraint to keep from kicking him to death in front of everyone. Max's eyes stared blankly at the far wall. He was out of action all right.
The rest of the police had disarmed the guards and cuffed them, while the group of old men cringed in the corner. Frieda crossed her legs and smiled at them, waving occasionally like a little girl at the senator. She knew that their careers were finished. After the papers got wind of this...and get wind of it they would...they wouldn't be able to clean toilets in Ulan Bator.
Frieda's thoughts were interrupted by yher mother's moaning. Brian had taken his cock out and was leaning against her raised right leg, covering his face with his hands. Frieda saw that her mother needed medical attention, and motioned to Bill to come to her.
"I can't explain right now what happened, but my mother's going to need a lot of help."
Bill looked at Frieda's mother, then at Brian, and shook his head.
"Thank God we broke up this band of sickies! There's a doc outside taking care of some of the girls in the sheds. I'll bring him right in to look at her."
"Oh, and there's a girl somewhere in this house.
They took her in here after she ... she ..." Frieda suddenly found it hard to spit out what had happened. It was all to grotesque, sickening, and she felt ashamed to tell anyone what had happened. "Oh God," she moaned, holding her head, "they forced her to screw a donkey!"
"Oh my God," Bill muttered.
"They tore her up pretty badly, but she might still be alive."
"Jasinski, Dolan, search this place for a young girl who's injured. They think she needs medical attention right away."
The officers ran from the room while Bill found some sheets for Brian and Frieda to wrap themselves in. The doctor had come in and looked over their mother, pronouncing that she was suffering from shock and needed immediate hospitalization.
"I'd better go along with her to sign any papers," Frieda said, getting up. Her knees were weak. She could hardly believe that the ordeal was over. The nightmare her family had been forced to live was now ended. Max and Miss Hudson were escorted, handcuffed, out the door.
"You'd better get some men to start digging around the perimeter fence," Frieda advised as she was walking with Bill and Brian to the ambulance. "I think you'll find what's left of a lot of missing girls around there."
"Christ," Brian muttered, feeling shaky. "I don't know what happened. I fucked my own mother! What kind of place is this?"
Frieda wanted to hold Brian's head and tell him it was all right, but her mother was waiting in the ambulance. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, then stood on tiptoe and kissed Bill on the forehead.
"Thank you," she whispered softly as she climbed into the rear of the ambulance.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was several days after the raid before Frieda came in to see Bill. She had given her statement with the rest of the girls to his superiors, who had driven up from Los Angeles to take charge of the final wrap-up. There was no problem in getting any testimonies...most of the girls were more than willing to tell in open court what both Max and Miss Hudson had forced them to do, including Frieda.
The two officers Bill had assigned to find Doris discovered her in one of the upstairs bedrooMs. She had almost bled to death. Doris was still on the critical list at the hospital, but the doctors told Frieda that with a little luck she'd recover.
"Want a drink?" Bill offered as he closed and locked the door behind her.
"I thought police weren't supposed to have alcohol on duty, especially in their offices."
"Oh, this time it's an exception. I've been promoted to head of the detective division in Los Angeles."
Frieda smiled proudly, then rose and walked over and kissed him gently on the lips. Bill put the bottle down he had pulled from his desk drawer and wrapped his arms tightly around her, returning her kiss with several sharp tongue thrusts between her lips.
"Easy, easy, boy," Frieda cautioned, pulling away. "That was a congratulations kiss."
"Mmmm. Well, maybe later. Have you been reading the papers?"
"They read like the walls of a men's toilet! My God, they printed almost everything."
"Well, that's the press for you. In any case, it doesn't look too good for Max Berger and his friends. They haven't got a prayer. You know, we found over twenty skeletons along the perimeter fence."
Frieda wondered if those were all of them, or if they had several hiding spots that they would never reveal to the police. It didn't really matter, but Frieda shivered nonetheless.
"What about all those bigwigs...their customers?" Frieda asked, thinking especially of the senator and the judge. She hoped they would go on trial for something.
"Oh, they tried to get out of it, saying that they didn't know what was going on Until it was too late. It didn't work. With your testimony and the testimonies of all the other girls, I'm afraid that they'll be joining Max and Miss Hudson in the pen before too long."
"So there is justice after all," Frieda said quietly: "I'll have that drink now."
Bill poured her a straight whiskey and had one himself.
"You really didn't tell me how you found us. I heard a sketchy story from some of the police, but I was too busy with my mother and Doris to focus in."
"It was a little luck plus your planning. When Betty got home with your mother and brother, Tommy grabbed her and took her up to the bedroom. She found the ledger and other documents and your note. She was so excited she didn't pay attention to Tommy's squealings and motions. He was trying to tell her what happened to you, but she just wanted to rush these things over to me."
"That's dedication," Frieda said admiringly, feeling a pleasant, warm glow spreading over her body.
"As soon as I saw them, I knew we had enough on Max to get a warrant and search the whole house. When Betty came back home, she was a little surprised not to find you home. But she saw your car was gone, so she figured you just slipped off somewhere for a while."
"But Max took me in his truck!"
"Ah, but he came back and drove your car into the lake behind the woods. He never had any intention of letting you go."
Shivers ran up and down Frieda's back. She took another long drink.
"When she found you still gone the next day, Betty became alarmed and called me. I came over as soon as I could and started asking your brother and mother if they'd seen you. They hadn't, and then your mother told me she was doubly upset because Max hadn't returned either. That's when I suspected that something was wrong. I didn't want to upset anybody, so I kept quiet. But Betty followed me out of the house and pried out my suspicions."
Frieda mumbled something again about Betty's devotion and held out her empty glass for a refill. Bill smiled and complied. She began to feel hot all over, especially her cunt. All that had happened in the days before seemed to be melting away. Bill's voice droned on in her ears as she continued to sip her drink.
"Well, Betty insisted that she work with me to help find you. We were both sure you'd been kidnapped. We worked all night, checking out leads, talking to people, but got nowhere. The next day I drove her home...she needed the rest, poor kid. Your brother was gorie, but your mother was up and went into the kitchen to put on some coffee. While we were sitting in the living room, Tommy came in and started grunting excitedly about something. At first we just thought he was having a fit and were going to call your mother when Betty suspected that he was trying to tell us something."
"Mmmmmm," Frieda mumbled, uncrossing her legs to let some fresh air reach her cunt. She was afraid her clit would melt if she didn't get some cool air up there quick. It was silly reasoning, but then she was getting a little tipsy.
"What it all boils down to is that he finally got through to us that he knew where the 'ranch' was...Max had taken him there a couple of times, and he knew the way. That kid figured that Max had taken you there too...but for keeps."
"He's smarter than we give him credit for," Frieda slurred, smiling invitingly at Bill.
"We left in a hurry, but Betty forgot her purse on the couch and ran back to get it. On the way out again she ran into your mother. Accidentally, she let a few things slip about something you found in the desk and Max. Well, I think you know the rest of the story. Max found out, forced your mother and brother to come up with him, and, well..."
Frieda grimaced. She didn't like to think of what had happened at that house. "How's your mother."
"She's still a little foggy. Brian and I told her that he'd been drugged while he was outside the room and didn't know what he was doing. She believes it, or wants to believe it. As for what Max told her about Brian and me, we just said he was lying to her. Knowing now what kind of man he is and what he was running, she believed us._A few more days at the hospital and she'll be going home."
"And Brian and Betty?"
"Oh, Brian has to be heading back to his base. He's taken over a month's leave and has to go back to pick up his orders. I think they're going to get married there. There's just too much publicity about Max and the ranch up here for them to get started nearby."
"So, they'll be living the straight and narrow?"
Frieda paused for a second, then looked up at Bill and flashed him a coy smile. "Don't be so sure."
"Do you think you can add a fourth to the party?" Bill said softly, putting his glass on the desk and walking over to Frieda. He crouched down and gently placed his hands on her thighs, sliding her skirt back to the belt. Frieda reached down and pulled her sweater over her head. Her tits flopped on to her chest. Bill looked up. Her big tits excited him and he lunged up, clamping his lips to her left nipple.
"Unnng!" she cried out, feeling his moist lips slide across her stiffened nipple. She felt his tongue swirl around the stiffened flesh, sucking, nibbling, swirling around until she opened her mouth to catch her breath. Slowly, he began to slip back down, sliding his mouth from her tit to her stomach, tonguing his way along her hot flesh to her cunt, leaving a thin trail of saliva behind him.
Frieda felt his tongue probing her cuntlips, teasingly pushing between them but not actually forcing its way into her sensitive fuck channel. Frieda felt an unbearable itch gripping her clit, an itch that could be scratched now only by Bill's tongue or cock. She shoved her hips forward, wanting to fuck herself on his stiff tongue.
"Not yet," he whispered hoarsely, standing up. He was unknotting his tie, then slipping out of his suit jacket, unbuttoning his shirt, ripping off his T-shirt, unbuckling his belt, slipping out of his trousers.
Frieda had almost forgotten what a large, well-formed cock Bill had. She stared at his cock, large and thick with a beautiful pulsating vein running the length of the powerful shaft. She wanted it stuffed in her, sliding against her clit until she exploded in fury against him.
"Fuck me," she moaned hoarsely.
Bill smiled, massaging his cock as he stared at Frieda. She had to relieve herself. Reaching down to her exposed cunt with her right hand, Frieda stuck her forefinger in her twat. There was no limit to the pleasure that she felt when that finger came to rest on her trembling clitoral bud. She stroked, squeezed, tugged, rubbed, strummed the swollen clit; each movement was like a tiny bombshell of pleasure that made her jerk with excitement, made her shudder with an ecstatic shock. She moved her right forefinger down to the cunt hole repeatedly, sticking it inside and pulling it out a second later when it was freshly coated and glistening with cunt juice, and each time she did it she thought of Bill's cock and wished that it was in her, that it could be in her cunt right then and there.
"I think I'll be able to take care of that," Bill said hoarsely. He walked slowly up to her, his cock swaying back and forth as he moved. She felt Bill's hot breath on her face and the tip of his swollen cock poking gently at the hairs that massed around her cunt. He grabbed her and drew her face to his. "Oh God, Bill," she moaned as she felt his lips press hard against hers, his tongue plunging into her throat while his hands cupped her ass and kneaded the flesh like bread dough. Suddenly, he pulled away.
"Suck my cock, Frieda."
She smiled at him, then fell to her knees obediently. He had one of the most beautiful cocks in the world, she thought, and it was a pleasure to slip that cockhead between her lips. Frieda opened her mouth and Bill thrust his hips forward, forcing the full length of his cock down her throat.
"Mmmm," Frieda moaned, reaching up and clamping her hands around his clenching asscheeks. She felt her clit tingle, and lowered her right hand to her cunt to stroke it as her tongue ran in circles over the cockhead, dipping into the tight slit. Still it grew and lengthened, filling her mouth, throbbing with excitement and heat.
"Faster, faster," he moaned. She raised her hand to his crotch and began to play gently with his heavy, swinging balls, brushing the fine hair that surrounded the base of his cock, her fingers running up the thick, pulsing vein that ran the entire length of his prick. With her left hand still clamped around her right asscheek, Frieda inched it slowly to the crack in his ass, running it slowly up and down, barely brushing the hairs that peeked between his muscular globes.
She wanted that cock up her cunt, she thought as she tongued Bill's purple cockhead.
He was moaning louder as he felt the warm, wet mouth devour his cock. Frieda felt his hands on her head, shoving it further onto his cock, feeling the tip of his prick being rammed against the back of her hungry mouth. Frieda began to finger her stiffening, aching clit again, leaving his balls to slap against her chin. She slowly slid her hand from Bill's ass to his belly. Her fingers searched out the small, sunken navel and dug into it, sending Bill into a frenzy of lust as he arched his back and shoved his stomach closer to Frieda's face.
The fingers titillated Bill's tight flesh as they traced the pulsating veins that appeared on either side of his hips and flowed under the tight flesh of his belly only to disappear under the thick mound of hair above his cock. Frieda took in the scene with her eyes and then closed them, the image of Bill's writhing, sweating body with its white-hot pulsing cock plunging into her mouth being branded into her mind.
He pulled away.
"Hey, honey, not so fast. It's my turn," Frieda said.
"Sit back down and spread 'em!" Bill ordered.
Frieda sat back on the couch and raised her legs high above her head, giving Bill a good target area for his tongue. She watched as he lowered his head into her crotch.
Frieda's self-control went out the window as she bucked, screamed, slammed her ankles together, pinning his head between her thighs as she tossed her head in a fit of unspeakable abandon.
Her mouth shot open as she felt his tongue snake up toward her clit; she shivered as a finger stroked her asshole. She felt Bill's tongue settle on her clitoris for a minute; then she could feel a pair of lips closing around the tiny knob and begin to suck. She felt her crotch explode; she felt torrents of cunt juice seep out of her hole and down her thighs.
"Okay, Frieda, I think I want to fuck you now."
Those words overpowered her as she lay back and pulled him over her. He teased her for a few seconds, jabbing the tip of his drooling prick at her swollen cuntlips, then pulling back, letting his cock jerk wildly as though it were going to shoot its delicious load onto her belly. Frieda moaned and writhed like a bitch in heat. The liquor had done its work with her, but even without the whiskey, Frieda would have been tossing on the couch in frustration. She wanted to be stuffed full now!
"Fuck me, damn you!" she screamed.
"Shhhh!" Bill said warningly, looking down to watch his prick jerk up once more. He moved forward, placing the tip just above the tip of her slit. He slid his cockhead back and forth, just barely. He watched Frieda's belly tremble in response, and could smell more torrents of fresh, hot cunt juice pour out of her hole.
"I said fuck me! I don't give a fuck if the whole Goddamned department can hear me!"
"Frieda!"
"FUCK ME!" Frieda had long lost any sense of restraint. She'd become a raging animal, demanding relief for her tortured cunt.
Bill continued to play with his cock in her cunt hair for several more seconds, then backed off, aiming the pulsating, purple cockhead at her cuntlips. With one push, he slipped his prick between the outer lips and deep into her pussy.
"Unnngh!" she moaned, heaving her thighs high into the air. He was finally in her, his cock sliding in and out, and her cunt walls closing around the thick, long shaft and squeezing, crushing, trying to pump the cum from his balls deep into her womb.
"OH GOD!" Frieda cried again and again as he sucked her tits, bit her shoulder, moved his cock in and out of her cunt. There was the steady rhythm of his cockhead slamming against her twat, his balls slapping her ass as he pumped back and forth. Frieda loved the sounds and feelings.
His breath became heavier, turned to gasps, as Bill became more excited. She shivered happily when she realized that he'd unconsciously started moaning her name over and over agan, almost in rhythm with his thrusts.
She smelled her cunt juice again. It was seldom Ike this...only with Brian. And then she smelled his sweat, the odor of Bill's masculine sweat dripping ooto her hot flesh as she writhed, bucked and sted under his hot, hard body. She forced a hand between his body and hers, felt around until me had gotten hold of his balls, and she felt him jerk back, then groan in ecstasy.
Her cunt was becoming more constricted all the time, but it was from excitement, not fear. She felt her cunt muscles grip his cock so that each strong forward movement of his prick was like a finger entering a clenched fist.
And then she was cumming, reaching her peak almost before she knew what was happening to her. She felt the heat of the sex flush spreading across her stomach and up to her tits, and she grimaced almost painfully as the first powerful contraction occurred between her thighs. It was a double contraction; a twitching of her cunt, a spasming of her ass.She started to cry out in pain and pleasure, but the cry ended as a loud groan. Bill knew what was happening and started slamming his body hard against her upturned ass. She swallowed his cock with her cuntlips even deeper and then she didn't know what was happening to her except that she was squishing and bouncing and gasping and sliding and rolling to the accompaniment of moans and juices. She saw Bill close his eyes and sway from side to side, grunting like a wounded animal, and she felt his jism smash wildly into her wriggling cunt. Frieda began to lose consciousness as the last massive contraction racked her body, and Bill collapsed on top of her.
They didn't know how long they'd been out. But Bill was the first one to wake up when he heard a knocking at the door.
"Bill? Bill? Are you all right in there?" It was one of his colleagues who had driven up with him from Los Angeles to work on the case.
"Marty? Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just taking a statement."
"You've got all you need. Anyway, I'm leaving.
Thoaght you might want to ride down with me."
Bill looked at Frieda, who had just opened her eyes. She looked soft and warm and contented, like a cat who was longing for her mate to come back to the lair.
"I'll take a rain check on that ride. I've got some friends I want to stay with for a while."
"It's your money."
Frieda put her arms around him and began cooing in his ear.
"You're beginning to sound like your stepbrother."
"Very funny. Say, who are these friends?" she asked coyly. Frieda know exactly why Bill wanted to remain there, at least for a while.
"Oh, just some casual acquaintances I met," he said nonchalantly as he started stroking her cunt. Frieda couldn't believe that after their wild fucking scene, he could still want more.
"But you'll be going down to Los Angeles soon?"
"Mm-hm" he said, sliding his finger down to her cuntlips. Frieda felt a glowing sensation begin to rise from the depths of her cunt and spread to her outer lips. Her breathing began to grow labored.
"Well, I-I'd like to see a little more of you," she stammered. Frieda really wanted to be with Bill more, but was a little embarrassed to say so. Besides, his damned stroking was getting her worked up again, and was doing things to him. She saw his cock begin to twitch, and could see the pink cockhead begin to grow rosy.
"Why can't you come on down with me. Have you got anything to keep you here?"
"Well, my mother, but. . . "
"So, she'll be out of the hospital in a few days. She can take care of herself. Besides, you'd be close enough to drive up when you can."
"Bill, are you asking me to marry you?"
He drew back and smiled in surprise.
"No; not yet, anyway. But there's nothing wrong in experimenting a little, is there?"
"No, I guess not." She knew damned well there was nothing wrong. There was nothing she'd like better than to be his mistress. It would be fun. Her mother could even come down for visits and bring Tommy.
"Lay back," Bill whispered, tracing his right forefinger over her taut right nipple.
"Let's eat something first," Frieda suggested, panting heavily and spreading her legs.
"Mmmmm, good idea," he said as she felt him slide down her body until his mouth was level with her crotch. She smiled and closed her eyes as she felt his tongue begin to probe her outer cuntlips.
