Chapter 5

It was growing dark when Linda came to with a start. As she sat up her head felt as though it would fall off, her body ached when she leaned forward, groaning helplessly as the memory of the afternoon flooded back to her sickened, tortured mind. There was an ache between her legs, an ache that spread around to her back, and as she looked down along her body she saw the bloody stain of her virginity on the couch and felt the ooze of cum in her inflamed pussy.

With the curtains drawn the room was so dark she didn't see Hugh, who was dozing on the floor with a cushion under his head, until she stumbled over him on her way to the bathroom, waking him up. She could see flecks of white, dried cum in the sandy hairs at the bottom of his stomach, and the weapon that had so violently taken her virginity lay slack, bent against his thigh, exposing his large testicle sac. And even as she watched him opening his eyes to stare up at her in a dull, half- comprehending way, she noticed the limp cock move slowly from a bent shape into a growing, semi-stiff curve. She fled to the bathroom and locked the door.

"Hey there Linda! Open up and let's get together under the shower. Come on, be a sport!" he called out. Jeez, he thought, I could go on banging this little bitch all night.

"If you don't leave me alone I'll open the bathroom window and scream, do you hear?" The cold shower was refreshing her but with the sobering force of it needling her skin she began to realize her predicament. She was supposed to be home when her parents returned at seven. She had been ravished. Should she tell them what had happened... perhaps they would call the police. But then she had not actually been raped. It was those strange Cokes... what could she do?

"Hugh," she called out, tremulously.

"Do you want me to come in, baby?"

"I want to know the time. My parents expect me home at seven."

"It's only half-past, you're not very late." Hugh had been thinking how he would be in an awkward position if Jenny found the kid here, especially if she was being held against her will. And it'd be a real mess if Linda's old man got the cops out looking for her. Better play it cool, he said to himself.

"Tell you what, Linda," he called. "I'll walk you home, right now. We'll tell your folks that you didn't have your key and that you came to tea with Jenny and me. OK?"

Now he was being nice again, but could she trust him? There wasn't much she could do about it. She could wait until his cousin Jenny or the girl who shared the apartment returned, but supposing they stayed out all night... her parents would be frantic with worry. Perhaps they had already called the police.

"Okay, Hugh. My father has probably already called the police, and I think the State law here defines a minor as a person under the age of sixteen. I'm a minor."

Hugh felt weak in the knees. Jeez, a bloody minor. The filthy cops just love grabbing a man for knocking off girls underage. The dirty bastards also love quizzing the girls about every little detail. Why didn't the silly bitch tell me?

"Listen, I didn't know how old you were. I still don't know."

"I'm fifteen. Actually, fifteen and four months." She could tell by the tone of his voice that he was very worried. She smiled to herself: I'll make him squirm. She dried herself hurriedly and unlocked the door to find Hugh dressed in shirt and white slacks ready to take her home.

They were silent all the way back along the promenade until they neared the Spenders' apartment building, then Hugh said, "I'm sorry Linda, I guess I fell in love with you and just couldn't resist kissing you. And when I drank a couple of vodkas and Coke I had to make love to you. Can you forgive me?" he begged. This was his only way out, he believed - he had to win her.

"I don't think I could ever forgive you. You behaved like a bastard. You probably are for all I know. Only that kind of person would sneak vodka into my drink. I suppose it's all I should expect from a truck driver or whatever you are. Or are you a butcher?" All the way from the apartment she had been fretting, her pride outraged by the fact that Hugh was probably as common as dirt, as his language was, at least those bits that returned to her mind through a fog of memory. She felt defiled.

Hugh was quick to counterattack. "Listen," he said, raising his voice a little, "my ancestors weren't convicts as yours probably were. We're connected with the aristocracy in England. My father's a judge in the Supreme Court and I'm studying law at the Brisbane University. So who are you? Just a daughter of a Yank businessman."

At that moment they were entering the building and coming out of the elevator was Linda's father.

"Princess," he cried, running up to her and throwing an arm around her shoulders. "I was just coming down to look for you. We've been worrying our heads off about you, honey. We were a little late home and thought maybe you'd gone to a movie. But when we saw your keys still on your bedroom table and noticed that your bikini was missing we were about to call the police. What happened?"

"As you can see, Daddy, I left the keys behind when I went for a swim. Then I met Hugh who took me to his cousin's for tea. Hugh," she continued, unconsciously pulling him gently forward by his arm to meet her father, "this is my father, Arnold Spender. Daddy, meet Hugh Watson. He's a law student from Brisbane." Hugh breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't calling the cops, by the sound of it. Bloody little snob.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Spender," Hugh said, putting on his best wide smile and twinkling eye. "Jenny and I were pleased to look after your daughter, though she'd be pretty safe around these parts." Turning to Linda he said, "If you ever get lost again you know where to find us. Or you could always go to a police station," he added, laughingly.

"Would you care to come up for a drink, young man?" asked her father. Hugh looked at Linda whose eyes said, "Why not?" However, Hugh had a cunning plan forming in his head. He wasn't going to lose this hot little bitch in a hurry.

"I'd certainly like to, sir," he said, remembering that young Americans he saw on the movies always said "sir" to their elders. "Unfortunately, I have to study tonight. These surf carnivals use up too much of my time. Perhaps I might phone Linda one day, if that's all right with her. My cousin will lend her a surf board and I could show Linda where the big ones are." Hugh chortled to himself. The biggest one was in the pants of old Sludge-Pump Yates.

"Why, of course, Hugh. Phone any time. Here's our number." Arnold Spender took a card from his pocket and wrote down the phone number of the apartment. "By the way," he added, "I forgot to thank you for looking after Linda. Thank your cousin for me, too. Good night."

"Good night sir, good night Linda," replied Hugh.

"Good night," she said. Her voice sounded slightly timid; a bit weak, thought Hugh. Surely she's not falling for me - just because I said I was a bloody law student with a judge for an old man! Wouldn't that be a laugh! I must dash down to the Surf Club, he said to himself. I've got a lot to tell the boys. They'll never believe I knocked off a fifteen year old this afternoon. And what a fuck!

He strolled down the promenade smiling to himself. A bloody Princess! The thought of bringing this snooty young American down a peg or two pleased him immensely and he laughed all the way to the Surf Club.

Tiger Kelly, Jim Yates and Billy Sutton were in the bar of the club drinking large pints of beer when Hugh walked in.

"OK buddy, you buy the next round," called Tiger. "You're fined for desertin' us. Where the hell did you go with that Yankee bird?"

"Yeah," chipped in Billy, "what's the idea of keeping that bit of jail-bait all to yourself. She's under sixteen, ain't she?"

"It'd be worth going to jail for," laughed Jim. "Come on, line 'em up. I'm as dry as a nun's cunt. Four pints, barman. Hugh's payin' for the lot, the lucky bastard." Jim Yates had been drinking since five o'clock and was starting to look like it. The others had taken a break to eat something, not wanting to get too far gone; they hoped to pick up some "birds" at the carnival dance in the club that night, whereas Jim needed to get drunk first. He was strangely shy of girls when he was sober but with a few pints of beer under his belt he'd tackle anything. Usually the ugliest girls around, the desperate ones who overlooked the fact that he was coarse, crude, with a sadistic glint in his eyes that were set too close together; he always had a black stubble around his large chin, his nose had been broken in a barroom fight and one look at his thick, bull neck wrinkled at the back was enough to frighten away practically every girl he ever met. In Brisbane they called him Sludge-Pump because of the size of his cock. Like most hygiene-mad Australians, his foreskin had been removed soon after birth and whenever he took a shower in the locker room, his friends would always admire that huge brown member with its large, purplish-red flanged head. "Like a policeman's helmet," remarked Billy who had lived in London.