Chapter 7

I didn't even eat breakfast. I simply went back to my room and cried. Maybe it isn't worth fighting, I thought. Why the hell make Duane mad at me when he's my boss? He might give me a raise or something if I put out. I shivered and sat up. You know why you fight, don't you, Lee! Because you're scared to death of him! Because he's not just talking about balling you... not that sonofabitch!

Just about that time, Mark came back from breakfast and said something about going out to kick around a football with some of the kids. Said he wouldn't be in until about lunch time. So I reminded him how it pissed Ma off for anybody to be late for a meal and he took off.

About fifteen or twenty minutes later, Will was knocking at the door. "Hey! That kid brother of yours! He's in deep shit, Lee! You better come quick!"

"Where? What's the matter with him? What is it, Will?"

"Come on! Don't yak about it all day!"

I rushed after him, slamming the door on the way through. "Will! What is it?"

"Something of Duane's... Duane thinks he took it. Says he's gonna get to th' bottom of it if he has to skin 'im alive!"

"That lousy bastard! Mark wouldn't take anything!"

We were already at Duane's door... it was only the length of the hall from mine. Will hung back, but I didn't. I yanked the door open and burst into the room.

"Where is he?" I yelled. Christ, I was scared!... And mad! "Where's Mark, you bastard?"

Duane pretended to be completely innocent. "What? God, Lee, control yourself!"

"Where is he, damn you? Where is he?" I was beside myself by then, and his bland grin infuriated me. I decided I wasn't going to take any more of that shit. I threw myself on him, kicking and clawing. "Get him out here! You sonofabitch, get him out here!"

Well, he was a lot stronger than me. I don't know if I hurt him at all. And all of a sudden I was on the floor with him sitting on top of me. I mean, he didn't hit me or anything... just threw me on the floor, face down, and sat on the middle of my back. He jerked my hands behind me and tied them. I don't even know what with. He tied each wrist to my belt and then got up and pulled me to my feet.

"You sassy little shit!" He snarled at me. "What the hell do you mean busting in here and attacking me?"

"I did not! You've got..."

"DON'T STAND THERE AND LIE!" He shouted and I shut up. "For Christ's sake, I've got a witness!" And he turned to where Will was standing just inside the door. "Isn't that what she did, Will?"

"Yeah!" Will grinned and licked his lips. "Sure did!"

"Okay. Just remember that." Duane went over to Will and took something out of his pocket. He handed it to Will. "Now, get lost."

Will looked startled, "What! I'm gonna..."

Duane just looked at him, real deadly-like. "Gonna haul-ass! That's what you're going to do! NOW, MOVE!"

Will took off as if he thought Duane was about to set him on fire. And Duane shut the door and bolted it.

He turned around and grinned at me. "Well, let's talk about it, baby. What was it you wanted to see me about?"

"Where's Mark? Damn it, where is he?"

"How the hell should I know? Think I keep track of every pimply-faced kid in town?"

Maybe I'm stupid or something. It hadn't really hit me until then. That dirty, rotten Will had sold out! He'd let the establishment use him!... For a price, he'd run Duane's errand, and here I was!

"Ohhh!... Oh, you lousy, sneaky bastard! It was all a trap!"

"Really? My, my."

He came toward me and I backed up. I bumped into a little gate-leg table and didn't have anyplace to go. He just kept coming toward me.

"Funny. I said I thought today was the day." He grinned and took hold of me. "Turn around."

Like hell I will! I thought. Anything you get from me you're going to have to work for! I was afraid to say it out loud, but he couldn't keep me from thinking it.

So he whirled me around and mashed the fronts of my thighs against the end of the table. He grabbed a handful of hair at the back of my head and bent me forward. He didn't really slam me down on the table; he just kept pushing until I lost my balance and lay on my face. And he hung onto my hair, holding my head down, while he walked around me.

He untied one hand from my belt and jerked my arm around so my hand was at the edge of the table, right by the corner, and tied it. I still wasn't sure what he was using; I couldn't really see. But I wasn't fighting, either. I knew how badly he could hurt me if he wanted to. He stretched my other arm out the same way and tied it to the other corner. And I couldn't quite reach the floor with my feet. Oh, I could touch it with my toes, but I couldn't get my feet on it solidly enough to move.

"Okay, baby!" God, what a note of triumph he had in his voice! "Okay, baby! Now let's see how sassy you are!"

I sort of whimpered. "Please, Duane! Leave me alone! Let me go!"

"You're just saying that," he said.

He forced his hands under me and mauled my boobs. I mean, he got one hand under my chest and lifted and then got both hands under my boobs and started squeezing and playing with them. I kicked and squirmed, but it wasn't any use.

"You dirty shit!" I yelled at him. "Get your Goddamn hands off my tits!"

He pulled one hand loose and smacked me in the mouth. I groaned and clamped my stinging lips together. I was right! He sure as hell could hurt me if he wanted to!

Keep your stupid mouth shut, Lee! I told myself. Just keep it shut!

So he burrowed his hand back under me and started unbuttoning my blouse. When he had it unbuttoned, he flipped it over my head and unfastened my bra. He broke the shoulder straps and pulled the useless garment out from under me so my bare tits were resting right on the table! Flattened out on it, of course.

"Duane... please? Please don't do whatever you're thinking about!... Please?"

"Aw, come on, Lee. You know you just can't wait until I get down to the nitty-gritty."

"Oh, please, Duane!"

"Honey, by the time we get through here you're going to be begging me not to stop."

I was so scared the tears were making a pool on the table under my face. He might do anything! He might even kill me to keep me from talking! And I didn't want to die!

The next thing he did was unzip my skirt. It wasn't easy to work it over my hips with my butt sticking out the way it did, I suppose, but it didn't take him very long. And there I was in my panties and pantyhose (I don't know about anybody else, but when I wear pantyhose I wear panties over them. I mean, a girl looks so naked in pantyhose! And he pulled my panties off without any waste of time at all.

He took his time with the pantyhose. He rolled them back over my ass like every square inch of those pink, round, smooth ass-cheeks was something to gloat over. And he kept running his fingers over the flesh as he uncovered it. When he got the nylon below the depressions where my buttocks cupped in to my thighs, he paused and slid his fingers onto the hair that covered my pussy- lips.

"Nice, Lee! I was afraid you'd been using that thing so much it would be all sloppy and loose. Got a nice, tight little cunt there."

"Oooh! You wouldn't talk like that if there was anybody cared what happened to me!"

"Oh, Lee! How you do carry on! You know how much I care!"

"A lot you care, you big prick!"

I shouldn't have said that. He must have wound up over by the Missouri river, the way he whacked my ass! The slap sounded like dropping a pallet of lumber! And my legs flew out straight and my head jerked up and I let out a yell.

"I don't like a lot of yelling," he said. "Every time you let out a yell, I'm going to clout you one. Understand?" And he blasted me on the ass again.

I couldn't help it! Honest to Jesus, I couldn't! I knew I mustn't make a sound, but it came welling into my throat and burst between my clenched teeth anyhow! So he hit me again and I let out one more yell.

"Sonofabitch!" he said, as if he were talking to himself. "Doesn't learn very fast! Well, I'll put that off for a few minutes."

Instead of smacking me again, he got the pantyhose the rest of the way off. And for a minute, nothing happened.

"Shit!" He sounded disgusted. "Got you on there wrong."

He untied one of my hands and moved it over where the other one was, then tied it up again. And he untied the other and manhandled me around so I was lying across the table with my arms stretched just about straight out to either side. My head was hanging over the edge, unless I held it up. And while he was moving me, he got the blouse off my arms. That left me entirely naked. And the fronts of my thighs were still tight against an edge, only at the side instead of the end.

He tied my ankles, then. He stretched my legs apart until I thought he was going to split me right up the middle and tied them to the table legs. And then he came around in front of me and started taking off his clothes.

He was dark-skinned. I don't know if he was part Indian or part Mexican or what. But his skin was pretty dark and he always gave me the feeling he was some kind of foreigner. It wasn't just suntan. He wasn't white anyplace! He didn't have a whole lot of hair on his body, either. He had real thick, black hair on his head--all wavy and greasy. But not very much on his chest or belly. But it was like a forest at his crotch! God! Black and thick and curly and as stiff-looking as horse hair! And so much on his balls I could hardly see any skin at all! And a big, dark, gleaming cock-shaft. His cockhead--the foreskin, I mean--was even darker and twice as big around! And all blunt and ugly at the front.

It was wet and slimy--a great, big, ugly hard-on with slimy juice on the front. If I hadn't been so helpless I know I wouldn't have thought of it that way; I'd have been all shivery and excited and itching to get hold of it! But it was different, being in the position I was.

He came toward me real slow, hanging onto his dick with one hand and pointing it at me like a firehose. He waved it back and forth a little bit, real gently, like a snake weaving its head from side to side. And it sort of hypnotized me. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I held my head up with my neck aching from the strain and let my eyes move back and forth following the weaving of that blunt, hooded, wet, ugly cockhead. And he pushed it right in my face!

All I did was shut my eyes when he touched them with the tip. The foreskin opened like a round mouth, thick-rimmed and a little wrinkled and almost black--and glistening with its coating of wetness. And he poked it right at my eyes. I shut them while he rubbed it across them. The juice stayed. It coated my eyelashes and covered my lids like a thick, sticky snail track. And he kept rubbing it back and forth and around in little circles until he'd spread the gluey substance thick and even over my eyebrows and cheek bones and everything between them.

When he started stroking it down on the softer parts of my cheeks, I got up the nerve to open my eyes. They didn't open easily; it really was sticky! But they did come open. And I think he was watching them, because as soon as I was looking again, he started pulling his foreskin back. He didn't stop brushing me with that fat, hot bulb, but he did start stripping back the thick, heavy hood that had covered it.

Honest to God, that cockhead was as black as ebony! It was round and full and its surface was all kind of velvety with a real fine tracery of lines and had a thick layer of that thick goo on it. And he kept smearing the goo all over my face. He shoved the end of the head against one of my nostrils and kind of twisted it, as if he meant to fuck me right up my nose. And then he did the same thing to the other nostril. When he slid the slick bulb to one side and bored it against my cheek, the fumes in my nose swirled up into my head and hung there.

It was a strong, pungent, exciting odor. It halfway made me forget how scared I was of him. It made me tingle and sort of took my breath away. And I gasped for air.

The instant my mouth opened, he was stroking the velvety, slimy dome over my lips and coating the surfaces of my front teeth with the stuff. I finally came out of my trance. I jerked my head aside and gagged at the fierce flavor.

It didn't seem to bother him. He jabbed his cockhead right into my ear, really pushing it and twisting at the same time, and I felt the juice pushing inward and heard the roaring of his pulse as it beat in the monstrous, persistent cockhead. Naturally, I wrenched away from that, swinging my head the other way. And of course, he stuck his prick into my other ear!

Something about the sudden dulling of my hearing frightened me. I didn't want him poking his old cock in my mouth; that was too degrading when somebody forced a person. But that was all. I knew what a mouthful of cockhead felt like, and I enjoyed it when it was my own idea. Getting fucked in the ears was something else! I mean, what if he blew off and shot his cum in there? With all the pressure he could generate, he might burst an eardrum and squirt my brains full of it!

So I faced him and let him hold the warm, spongy mass right on my lips. And I even parted them a little bit so I could taste that powerful flavor again.

"Go ahead, baby!" His voice taunted me. "Go ahead! Get a good mouthful! Won't find one as good as this one every day!"

I sucked at the tip. I lipped it like I would an ice cream cone and even touched it with the tip of my tongue. It was good! And if I kept him thinking about how good it felt when I kissed it, maybe he wouldn't hurt me!

I worked my lips a little further onto it and caressed the rounded, blunt dome with my tongue.

"NNNNNHH!... That's fine, sugar!... Just fine!"

If I could just keep him liking it! I slipped my tongue around onto the underside and jabbed it at his slit, the rolled, hard edges feeling like wet glass rods. A drop of warm, acrid- tasting fluid oozed onto my tongue and I drew it back and swallowed. My lips extended and I forced my jaws apart, inviting him to stick the whole bulging cockhead into my mouth.

He did. He pushed it forward past my teeth and onto the broad surface of my tongue until it blocked the arch at the front of my throat. I closed my lips around the neck of his cock-shaft. With a hard gulp, I began sucking. At first, there was a regular spout of man-juice into my throat. I swallowed and sucked, my tongue pushing at the underside of the thick, meaty knob. And his hips sort of jerked back and forth, bumping the end of his cockhead against the back of my mouth and stretching the opening to my throat.

For the moment I wasn't doing something I was being forced into. The back of my jaw buzzed and my mouth puckered and excitement made my tits hot against the table. I wanted that dick! I wanted its warmth and thickness and pressure in my mouth! I wanted it all the way down in my belly, right down my throat!

I sucked furiously, my lips tugging and my jaw propped open by its burden. Duane kept surging at me, the wonderful, smooth, wedging bulb of his cockhead advancing thousandths of an inch at a time along the tube of my throat. Getting it past the archway-- getting the ridged shoulders of that enormous, choking bulb from the back of my mouth into the cavity of my throat--was the hardest part. But it sort of popped through between the violent swallowing I was doing. And then it was easy. I couldn't breathe very well; the air passage was too constricted for much air to pass at once, but I wasn't suffocating.