Chapter 40: Screams in the Night

"What do you mean, he's going to jail?" Julie stopped so fast, she forced Martha who'd been leading her friend and lover by the hand, to swing about and stop walking also.

Martha, panting from their hurried walk away from the scene at the Fielding home, looked for the first time at Julie. "Jules, you have to understand. It was his father that pressed charges -- not me." As if she could bring charges against another for a crime like peeping. She tried to continue the walk, but Julie held her position firmly, as well as Martha's hand.

Julie looked haggard and dishevelled. Martha didn't want to know what her and the little shit-for-brains did this evening, but the look in Julie's eyes said it all -- she was more in love with the jerk than ever before. "Julie, please let's discuss this at home. I made a promise to Mister Fielding that I would only discuss it with my hosts. I can't talk about this in public." As if to accent her statement, Martha looked left and right to make sure no one else on the darkened street heard their conversation.

"Come," Martha, still holding Julie's hand, pulled gently, coaxing Jule's to move. "We need to get to the safety of home. I don't think I like this neighbourhood anymore." As a matter of fact, she only had a vague idea of where they were. They'd only been to the Fielding home once before and that was over a week ago. No matter, they didn't walk here. Each time, they'd been driven to this very house, and in the case of Martha, hauled away in a police car -- for that damn peeping. She wondered whatever happened to her dildo she was carrying with her that night. Probably some horny bastard of homosexual cop got it and was even now playing with it. Martha sighed, thinking of the lost toy. The bastard. Oh well, she thought to herself. Maybe he's getting as much enjoyment as she'd gotten from it.

Martha shook her head, she had let her mind wander again. "Julie, do you remember how to get home from here?" Now Julie stopped to look around them. She halted at even the smallest of detail, hoping to recognise anything.

"Well, when the car pulled out of the drive, we headed that way, I believe." She now pointed in the opposite direction they had been headed toward.

"Oh great," Martha rolled her eyes in mock irritation. Actually, she thought it rather funny that they were getting themselves lost. The night had been way too long; way too strenuous, to be angry over something like this.

"Martha, what happened in the house?" Julie asked again.

Pulling Julie in the indicated direction, Martha, didn't respond, except for a terse, "An interesting threesome that quickly became a show for your young Tommy. Now, let's get out of here. I don't feel up to having any men stop me for quickies. Not tonight."

As if on cue, two masculine figures stepped, somewhat wobbly, out from the shadows of a tavern. Martha and Julie stopped, coming almost nose-to-nose with the two men. "Wha' we gots he'e?" Came a slurred demand, from the smaller of the two men. They peered towards the two girls, who were both panting heavily from their quick pace and, and now, from being startled by the two men.

"Why we gots us a nigra girl and a bleached girl. Sal' and pep'er. Tha's wha' we gots here, Brucey." The larger man exclaimed as if making some astounding new discovery. "Yeshirree, shir, we gots us op... Oppos... Hell, we gots us sluts."

The girls found themselves being pulled into the dark alleyway between the tavern and the neighbouring building. Brucey, the smaller of the two men and the sober of the two, began unzipping his pants as soon as the small party entered the deepest shadows of the path. Julie leaned in to whisper in Martha's ear, "Why did they bring us here? They almost act as if we are about to partake in criminal activities." Martha shrugged. She was just as confused by the drunken men's behaviour.

"My... my name Hank. You can call me Hank." The girls giggled at the silly introduction. "Why you laugh at Hank? I don't like when folks laugh at me." The girls didn't like being in the alley with the two drunks, but worse, they were both feeling a hint of terror rise deep within them.

Brucey, now rid of his pants asked the girls, in his slightly clearer slur, "You girls like knife play?" Julie, not seeing the harm in such a question, nodded yes. Martha remained quiet.

"Hank, girls like knifes."

"Sho... So I heard," came Hank's slurred reply. He looked both girls up and down. "Do either of yous girls have a knife?"

In unison they both shook their heads, no. "We like knife... Knives." Brucey said.

Martha and Julie looked to each other, confused as to where these men were going with the talk of knives. "Maybe they'll pass out and we won't have to worry about them accidentally killing us." Julie hoped Martha was correct.

Brucey, spread his legs wide apart and reaching back, he opened up his ass cheeks for his friend, Hank. "Shee if there's a knife there, would'ja?"

Hank looked down at his friend's ass. Then, as the girls looked on at the odd display, Hank kneeled and began licking Brucey's bung hole. Julie felt her stomach recoil at this odd turn of events. Their long bizarre night had just taken a turn for the worst.

Hank pulled his face back from Brucey's wet ass. "No knife here." He stated in a drunken matter-of-fact voice. Brucey, still holding his cheeks wide and not convinced, wiggled a finger into his wet hole. He had to arch his back to get in deeper, but he succeeded in sliding the finger in up to his palm.

"By golly, you're right. No knife." Brucey crowed. "Hank, you ben' over. Lemme look see wha' you got in you." Hank, not wasting another moment, turned and pulled his pants down. He leaned forward, felt a dizzy spell come over him, and watched as it appeared that the wall nearest to him was about to fall upon his head. He quickly braced his arms on the wall as he spread his legs for Brucey's inspection. "Brucey, yous gonna have to spread me cheeks for me. I gots to hold up this wall."

The girls looked at each other and smiled. These two were going to be no problem tonight. They watched, barely hiding their smiles, as the small Brucey leaned over to examine the large ass of his companion. "Wha' have we he'e?" He asked, as he reached for the dark spot marking the entrance to Hank's ass.

Martha quickly gripped Julie's upper arm as soon as she spied the unusually large opening in Hank's ass. "What the... ?" She thought to herself. Julie felt Martha's hand tighten into a vice on her arm. She was about to protest until she saw the look of horror on her friend's face. She followed Martha's stare and watched as Brucey reached -- no dug -- into Hank's ass with a few fingers and withdrew a small knife. Martha, not quite understanding what was going on, took a step back. Brucey caught the movement and asked Martha and Julie to stay where they stood.

The girls couldn't refuse, they were too shocked at what they'd seen. Morbid curiosity forced them to stay, as requested, and silently watch. Hank stood up and didn't even seem to notice the trickle of blood oozing from his ass. "Well, Brucey, da girls they wanna knife play. Wha' you say?"

Brucey, having found the knife was ready to play. "Git that crate ovah he'e, nigra girl. Then you and you bleached friend come kneel before it, but not too close." Martha did as she was bid, moving quick so that Brucey doesn't have reason to use that knife on her own body. She'd suffered enough in the past week, a stabbing now was going to be the last straw.

Once the girls were properly kneeling before the box Brucey, followed by Hank also kneeled. Both men, naked from the waist down, gingerly grabbed their cocks and placed them on the make shift table. The girls watched, filled with an intense curiosity, and yet, not really wanting to know what was about to happen. The girls were, after all, still clothed in their party outfits.

The two men smiled drunkenly at each other then at the girls. "Nigra girl, you hold the end of my cock, firmly now, ya he'e?" Hank, kneeling beside her moved his hand out of the way so Martha could grab it properly. "Now stresh... Stretch it ou' reeeal nice like. Sorry, it tain't hard, but da's okay."

Martha did as bade and, holding Hank's soft cock she stretched as far out from his body as she could. Hank sighed audibly, causing Martha to look up. She was surprised to see a look of pure bliss on his drunken face -- as if he were in heaven. She smiled at that, glad he was so easy to please.

Then, there was a flash as Brucey's hand swished downward in an arc and, Hank looking skyward, let out a howl that filled the night. Followed by Julie's screams... And Martha's screams.

The two girl's laid in bed, holding on to each other, as if for dear life. Neither spoke of that night's events. What would they say? And to whom? Hell, who would believe them? So they laid there, in the dark room, and watched the stars sparkle outside their window.

The house was already dark when they'd gotten home, only an hour before. They didn't stop for a late night snack. They didn't stop to check in with Mister Browning or his wife. They didn't even bother with their usual night-time ritual. They just locked the house -- tightly, stripped and headed to bed. They didn't even hear sirens that would indicate the scene had been discovered. The girls ran as soon as they gathered their wits about them. The ran and ran. Julie tried to look back once, but Martha threatened her if she did look. Now, they just laid there and held each other until the sun came up.

Martha looked ashen as she returned to The Asian Zoological Society to continue with Asa's test of a new aphrodisiac. Her heart was hardly into her work, so she hardly noticed when Master Asa entered the office. "Child?" Came his soft voice, full of concern. "Child, are you ill?"

She looked up at him, eyes red and her hands still gently shaking. "I am fine, Master Asa. What work do you have for me today?" Asa approached the girl in his quiet shuffle.

"Child, you must be distracted, for you are seated in my chair." Martha, stunned by her own vulgar actions, quickly slid to the floor and into a bowed position. "I am sorry, Master. I have no excuse for my insolence."

Asa eyed the dark skinned beauty as he moved to stand behind her partially prone body. He reached down, slid a finger first between her buttocks and then between the lips of her vagina. His finger came up dry. He wasn't too surprised since the wench seemed unusually distracted and way too quiet -- and too submissive. "You are dry, Child. Why?" He sniffed his finger, an automatic habit from his days as a young man.

"I can get them wet, if you wish, Master!" She piped up, ever so obedient. This alerted Asa to the fact that she was definitely distraught, for she'd never been so quick to move or to speak when spoken to. He reached into a pocket of his robe, "Kneel, Child." Martha shifted, assuming the proper kneeling position, but she remained obediently quiet.

Asa withdrew his hand from his robe and bent over. This proved to be a long slow process for the aged man, but he did finally succeed in getting his wrinkled hands level with her vagina. Martha, staring straight ahead the whole time, didn't get to see what was in his hand. She wasn't even sure she wanted to know. Then again, she didn't really care what he did to her today.