Animal girl

Blackjack clung like a beachside fishing village to the ash gray desert that sprawled as far as the eye could see toward the craggy-hewn peaks of the Kingston Range, a motley collection of sun-parched ridges in the southern end of the California Sierras. To the north lay the natural furnace of Death Valley; less than a hundred miles beyond the mountains, Las Vegas nestled like a multicolored jewel in the parched wilderness of the Mojave. It was almost mid-day, and today, like every other day of the year, most activity had ground tediously to a standstill so that men and machines could be replenished. A dozen or so of the men huddled under the tin roof of the open-ended maintenance shed, talking quietly so as not to exert themselves in the scorching heat, waiting for the signal to shuffle back over the powdery wastes and return to their jobs on the oil derricks. Blackjack had a long, if not glorious, history as a mining town. First as a base camp for fruitless gold hunts in the killer mountains, later as a home for borax miners, and now, though mostly in ruin except for a few unpainted cabins that were still inhabitable, as the temporary hometown for nearly twenty “roughnecks” and whatever families they possessed. Blackjack had been invaded seven months ago by Benny Terrell and his ragged crew of fortune hunters, in search of an elusive reservoir of crude oil that might or might not exist, in hopes of a fortune that might or might not fall into their hands. And all of them, including Jamie Olsen, working for wages that seemed as elusive as this tricky oil field they were searching for.
Sarah Olsen, Jamie’s twenty year old wife of three months, sat alone and sullen on the shaky front porch of their tiny two room shack, her rocking chair carefully positioned so that the runners did not cause any weight to be placed upon the dozen or so completely rotted planks in the porch’s unpainted floor. She rocked slowly and gently in the midday heat so as not to use up too much precious strength — there was still dinner to cook, if you could call boiled potatoes and pork belly a dinner, and dishes to wash… and Jamie’s one decent work-shirt to be hand scrubbed and hung on the line stretched across the porch to dry in less than a half hour in the desert’s hot waterless breeze. Sometimes she felt that the desert’s furnace-hot wind was drying her out much the same way, draining her whole young body of its very youthfulness just as it sucked the moisture from a dripping-wet shirt in twenty minutes or so.
Scanning the black on white type of the newspaper old Mr. Parker brought her from his supply run into the city, Sarah brushed her blonde hair from her eyes and wiped her forehead instinctively. “Instinctively” because out here in the desert there was really no need for that; perspiration evaporated as fast as it beaded up on your skin in this zero humidity heat. All morning long she had carefully gone down the long, finely-printed columns, x-ing them off one by one, narrowing her hopes for any escape from this perpetual furnace she was trapped in as surely as a sinner is trapped in purgatory. One by one, each tiny inked-in “X” snuffing a little more of the flicker of hope that ached in her breast, Sarah Marie Olsen had eliminated her methods of escape and her chances for another life outside this hell hole that only a money-maddened wildcatter with a cooked brain could call a town.
And now there was just one chance left. There could be no turning back if she managed to make it this once, Jamie was no man to be trifled with! She knew only too well that he would beat her until she wouldn’t be able to run away again if he caught her or if she had to turn back. Mr. Parker was taking his life in his hands in agreeing to drive her into town, but maybe he figured at his age there wasn’t really much to live for anyway. Sarah looked, eyes squinting in the blazing California desert sun, to see if the office shack was empty. It was! In that little clapboard hut was the camp’s only telephone, her one link with the outside world… that magic place with flowers and cool showers and running water and people who could laugh and not talk only of elusive oil strikes that would never come and towns and cars and sounds and smells. Out there was everything that she had left behind when she somehow fell in love with Jamie Olsen, everything she had thrown away when she stupidly agreed to come with him on this fool’s mission on the backside of nowhere.
She glanced down the rutted dirt street that connected all the crumbling shacks, the ones in use and the ones too far gone for even the likes of these people to live in. The men had piled onto the flatbed and gone back to the drilling site; and the women, the few that were still here, were all resting or napping inside out of the mind-numbing heat. This was it, now or never! Sarah got up and moved slowly toward the open door of the office shack, angling toward the tin-roofed food storage building first in case someone spotted her.
She rechecked the number she had scribbled on the inside of an empty cigarette package and waited for the operator to answer somewhere south toward the highway and the cities of the real world. This was the moment she had dreamed of, walked the floor over, for weeks on end. If the voice on the end of that line held out the slightest hope for her, she would be out of this hell on earth within twenty four hours… and she would never look back!
It wasn’t so long ago really, but all that seemed to have been in another world to Sarah now, another life somewhere that she had lived through and was now ended, no more a part of her life now than night was a part of day, or one day a part of the one before. That was over, gone, past, and nothing counted any longer save the present. And each day that she lived now was one more to make up for the miserable ones that came before.
Sarah was truly happy now, she was finally doing something wild and exciting, just like all her girlish daydreams when she was in high school back in Utah, dreaming of a life somewhere filled with reckless deeds and adventure, instead of endless piles of dirty dishes and a smelly man’s socks draped over the shower curtain. Ever since her first trip to the zoo as a kid, she had always had a special spot in her heart for animals, all kinds of animals, so when she spotted that ad in the classified section that blistering hot afternoon a month ago, it was only natural that she give it a try at least. Mr. Hawkins her boss now, said that it was her girlish enthusiasm and sincerity that landed it for her, but whatever it was, she was grateful. It had called for, simply, an “attractive young girl who loves animals for assistant’s job with traveling zoo and animal show. See the American and Canadian west and get paid for it!” And now the job was hers, special assistant to Mr. Henry Hawkins at a hundred and fifty a week, all expenses paid. It was like a dream come true; Sarah was fearful of waking up and finding herself back in Blackjack with all those coarse, uninteresting people, listening to them talk of bits and derricks and barrels of oil until she died of old age, penniless and still stuck in that God-forsaken hole in the Mojave Desert.
But it was indeed all real, not something she had fantasized out of sheer desperation. She had gone to see Mr. Hawkins, riding into town with Mr. Parker when he went to get the mail and supplies, and she never went back, not even to get her clothes. Mr. Hawkins hired her on the spot, and she swore old Mr. Parker to secrecy, as no one had seen them leave together. Her new boss seemed quite concerned about her marriage difficulties, and he even offered her an advance on her first week’s salary so that she could buy a few new clothes and not have to spend another second with that coarse slug of a husband back in Blackjack.
She did take the time to write her husband a letter, though, which was probably more than he deserved. Mr. Hawkins mailed it for her in Las Vegas when he had to drive up there on business. She could just imagine Jamie, red-faced and blustering, clad most likely in work jeans and steel-toed boots, storming into Las Vegas and demanding of someone, probably the first policeman he spotted, that they return his wife before he got really mad and wrecked the whole place. Jamie was like that, though he certainly had contained it well enough when he was courting her; he thought a wife was just another piece of property, like a monkey-wrench or an old comfortable pair of shoes, so he treated her accordingly. As near as he could figure it, being the wife of Jamie Olsen was a distinct privilege, something to be thankful for, and that should be enough to satisfy any woman. Nice clothes? Tenderness? A good life? Hell, that was for dudes and rich folks, not for Jamie. Hard dirty work and chasing the rainbow was all he knew, all his father and his father before him ever knew… and Sarah hoped he would be happy with it now that he had it all to himself.
They were on the road now, somewhere north of the Canadian-U.S. border and rolling further toward the oil field and construction camps of the Northwest Territories. It was ironic, in a way, that Sarah had escaped from one oilworkers’ town and was heading for another, but it wasn’t the same this time. She was on the move; the show’s schedule called for not more than two days in any location, so she would see lots and lots of scenery between stops. And besides, there would be dozens of interesting people to meet along their full season’s schedule that brought them back, by the coming on of winter, to California, not just the few boring souls back in Blackjack who were always the same — dull and uninteresting — day in and day out.
Sarah rode in the pickup with Mr. Hawkins and one of the animal trainers, a young kid named Sammy who was working his first season also with the show. There was a large camper body attached to the truck, with a tiny crawlway between the cab and the camper, so she could squirm through and get Cokes or beer for them whenever the guys asked for it or sneak a few winks on the double bed that stretched over the roof of the pickup cab and gave her a panoramic view of the majestic Canadian Rockies as they passed on her right. Behind them, but not traveling in convoy because it was too dangerous in the event of an accident, were two other employees, Hawkins’ right hand man, Al Badger, and the other woman who worked with the show, someone Sarah knew only as Gloria. They rode in an old station wagon that towed the trailer they seemed to share.
And behind them, further still scattered back along their route, were the trucks, three of them, that carried the animals from the show. They had left the wintering site pretty soon after Sarah took the job, so she really hadn’t spent much time with any of them, but they all appeared to be quite healthy and well-cared for and she was glad of that. She had had it in the back of her mind that some of these traveling menagerie shows did not take care of their caged animals, and Sarah wanted no part of any kind of abuse like that. She could not bear the thought of anyone mistreating a captive animal, or a wild one, for that matter. To her, that was as alien as beating an infant or whipping a child with a heavy leather belt. Maybe it was because of the way she had been so badly treated by her mother’s second husband before she finally ran away and got married to the first jerk who offered a time-payment ring and had enough for the marriage license. Of course, she had not seen it in quite that light then, but it was becoming clearer now all the time as she sat quietly while Sammy and Mr. Hawkins took turns with the pickup, coming into focus like a television tube warming up. And it wasn’t a picture she liked… nor one she ever wanted to relive. This was all so exciting, a whole new world out there, and Sarah planned to see every inch of it.
Hawkins had made arrangements ahead to have space available at a privately-owned campground outside Soda Creek, British Columbia for the show’s vehicles, as the drive necessitated a stop halfway from the Canadian border to the first show stop across the territorial line into the Yukon. This would be their only overnight rest before the show arrived, as from here on, they would simply stop individually to change drivers, sleeping in their vehicles until they reached Line Creek, where they would set up for the resident families and transient workers engaged there in building a highway through to the coast.
Hawkins was driving when they arrived, and after stopping for a back-slapping welcome from the campground’s manager, a one-legged retired lumberjack named “Stump” Moran, he personally guided the vehicles into place for the night as they arrived. Sleeping arrangements were something her new employer had failed to really explain to Sarah, but she wasn’t actually concerned, for Mr. Hawkins was obviously a harmless enough old eccentric, all wound up in his animals, busying himself like a leathery white-haired elf as he scurried from trailer to trailer and bedded everyone down for the night. Sarah offered her help, but Hawkins insisted that she remain in the camper. “Plenty of weak minds and strong backs for this kind of work,” he had explained. When she suggested mat this might indeed be a perfect time for getting to know some of the others, Gloria particularly, as she was the only other woman along, Hawkins rebuffed her icily. It was strangely out of character for him, and Sarah was somewhat hurt when he “suggested” quite firmly that she find something to keep her occupied inside the trailer.
Sarah was surprised at this sudden chill, but she took it calmly enough; after all, this had been a long tiring day and anyone, even nice old Henry Hawkins, was entitled to be a bit frayed around the edges. She was there in the pickup camper alone when he returned over an hour later. Only by finding a distant American radio station on the camper’s receiver had she managed to stave off the worrying restlessness of boredom, but she was quite relaxed and contented now when he came back, and the warm smile on the middle-aged man’s face put her even more at ease.
“Sorry to have to leave you so long like this, Miss Olsen… oh, excuse me, Mrs. Olsen, I forget you’re still really married,” apologized the middle-aged graying man quite sheepishly. Sarah found herself embarrassed by his shyness, his self-effacing manner.
“Oh, don’t give it another thought. I was quite happy, really. It’s nice to be able to relax and enjoy the quiet of this beautiful countryside. And you ought to call me Sarah, then there wouldn’t be any problem remembering that silly ol’ Miss or Mrs.,” said Sarah smiling in relief at being back in his good graces again. Hawkins smiled at her suggestion and nodded, then opened the camper’s refrigerator and pulled out a cold beer.
“Want one?” he asked. “Nothing better’n beer to cut the dirt from a hard day’s driving.”
Sarah shook her head. “I know it sounds silly in this day and age, but I don’t drink. Guess it was ’cause my pappa… stepfather, actually… drank so much and I grew up seeing the ugly side of liquor. Never really cared for it since I can remember.”
The wrinkle-faced, sun-toughened old man grinned. “Yep, you’re probably wise. Liquor never did anybody any real good, even the weak stuff like beer and wine. Still though, I guess I’m too old to change my evil ways now.” Sarah’s lips eased into a smile at the thought of nice ol’ Mr. Hawkins being evil. Christ, after some of the people she had known — or the one she’d married — he was like a man of the cloth. “You don’t mind if I have this beer, do ya’?” he asked.
“Of course not! I didn’t mean for you to think I was some kind of do-gooder or something,” she explained hurriedly, not wanting to risk offending her new boss. “I haven’t got anything against drinking. I just don’t like it for myself, that’s all. Don’t go getting any notions that I’m that kind of person!”
Hawkins slowly turned his head from side to side, his eyes never leaving her for a second. “That’s good, Sarah. ‘Cause life gets a little bit tarnished sometimes traveling around the country like this. You don’t have to become hardened to it, though, just be able to bend enough when the times comes, and you’ll do nicely… really nicely.”
Sarah felt an unexpected chill run through her veins… that quickening that tells you something isn’t quite the way it should be. But that was outrageous, everything was better than it had been for her in years! She quickly shrugged it off and made herself another cup of coffee and sat down opposite Hawkins at the fold-down dining table opposite the galley-style kitchen. He reached up and turned on the gas mantle of the built-in lamp that hung on the wall beside them and held a paper match to the mantle until it burst into flame and settled into a white-hot glow that illuminated the cabin like an electric light bulb.
They sat there in silence for an uncomfortably long time, Sarah curious and restless from the excitement of this new life unfolding for her so quickly, Hawkins quiet and pensive, his mind somewhere else as he gazed out the curtained window through the trees to the opposite clearing where his crew was busily making preparations for settling down for the night. There were voices carrying through the fifty yards or so that separated them from the others, mixed with the muffled sounds of stirring animals caged in their trailers as the trainer and Sammy moved from cage to cage, dispensing the night’s ration of food and water, plus an occasional dose of vitamins or veterinary prescription to one or the other mildly ailing beasts.
“Uh, I guess you’re sort of used to all this traveling by now… I mean, you’ve been to all these places before so many times probably,” she said, feebly making some kind of conversation.
Hawkins looked as if he had been very far away. “What? Oh, yes, you’re absolutely right. But I never get tired of it all. This is the kind of life I was born for, and I don’t ever aim to change. I guess I’ll die one day up here on the road somewhere. Won’t be nobody around to mourn over me ‘cept Lobo.”
“Lobo? That means wolf, doesn’t it?”
“Not only means it, he is a wolf.”
“You’ve got a wolf? I didn’t see him with the other animals.” Hawkins shook his head. “No, I don’t keep him down in California. He stays up here with ‘Stump’ during the winter, and I just take him with me when I come through. He’s out by those trees there. Take a look, I think you can probably still see him.”
Sarah peered out the fogged-over window, first wiping a spot clear with her fist. “Oh, you weren’t teasing! There he is… and he’s not tied or anything!”
“Tied! Lobo? He wouldn’t stand for it. ‘Sides I’ve raised him ever since he was a pup. One of our trucks accidentally killed his mother and I took him in. Had to feed him just like a natural baby for months. He and I are pretty good pals now, like I was his real pappa or something.”
Sarah started to giggle at the thought of Mr. Hawkins fathering a timber wolf, but the look of misty-eyed seriousness on the old man’s face cut her short. By God, he was serious, all right! That mean-looking animal out there running around loose was like a son to him! Well, anybody his age was due a few eccentricities, she supposed. If that was all she had to contend with, it wouldn’t be hard at all. “When do I start work, Mr. Hawkins? I mean, when do I really start to do something? It’s nice and all just sitting around, but I get sort of bored. You know what I mean?” she asked, her soft blue eyes twinkling.
A slowly spreading grin worked its way through the sun-parched wrinkles around Hawkins’ face. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll have plenty for you to do soon enough. Hey, you sure you don’t want a drink? I know one special I bet you’d like.”
“Well, maybe just one. But I can’t drink anything real strong. You’ll have to make it kinda’ weak for me or I’ll get sick.”
Henry Hawkins guffawed, reminding Sarah of some grizzled miner she’d once seen in an old Bogart movie, but she couldn’t remember the name. “You break me up, girl! You’re kinda’ refreshing, like a breath of spring air around this bunch of drunks and dee-gen-erates. Don’t worry, I’ll fix you a special…”
Sarah knew even before that first mouthful had started a gentle glow in her belly that taking a drink at all was a terrible mistake. Jamie had told her once when they were going to a party that she should be doubly careful since she wasn’t used to drinking and, unlike the more experienced, could not tell when she had had enough until it was too late.
This stuff tasted good enough — a “Cuba Libre” he called it, whatever that meant — in fact, it was hard to taste anything other than the Coke he made it with. She didn’t know what else was in it, except for the slice of lemon she could see floating on top, because he had gone over to Gloria’s trailer. “Don’t have the mixin’s here,” he had explained.
“Well, how do you like it?” he asked, her, his head cocked sort of apprehensively.
“Okay… it’s sort of like a Coca-Cola with something warm in it, but the Coke’s all I can really taste.”
“Well, just take your time with it. You’ll get used to it soon enough. Not that I’m trying to turn you into some sort of lush or something, mind you. But you’ll probably need a drink once in a while when we really get rolling. It’s pretty hectic around this show sometimes.”
Sarah nodded. She wanted to ask him once again just exactly what her duties would be, but she thought better of it. He did not seem to be disposed to tell her very much right now, and Sarah figured it best to just let things ride as they were. After all, she was getting paid good money for doing nothing, so far, so who was she to complain?
They talked for a while longer, Sarah mindful of the fact that her words were beginning to slur a bit around the edges and that some of her thoughts seemed to ramble a bit more than usual. But she wasn’t drunk, she was certain of that. Maybe she was no experienced drinker, but she surely knew enough to know when to stop. Hawkins fixed her another and she reluctantly accepted it, and she thought for a moment it was a bit strange that he seemed to have everything he needed right here in the camper this time. But why worry? The night was cool and quiet, save for an occasional growl from one of the big cats or a roar from the show’s big star, Jomo, the African gorilla, safely locked behind the double steel bars of his cage where she’d seen him — just once — before they left California.
Hawkins rambled on a bit, relating how he had picked up the traveling show for a song from a Mexican couple who needed the money. He conveniently left out the rest of the story — how they were desperate for money for their son’s much-needed operation and he loaned it to them, taking the show as collateral. Hawkins was in the used furniture business then, as he called it, though his real trade was in taking over delinquent furniture store accounts and foreclosing for the goods and reselling it to Chicanos in Los Angeles. It had been a quite lucrative business, sometimes bringing the same goods back two or three times before he mistakenly sold them to someone who could actually hope to make the payments.
That was a part of his life he didn’t talk much about, particularly with new employees. People sometimes got the wrong idea. Just like when they called him heartless for taking the old couple’s livelihood just because their only son died on the operating table, and they lacked the money to make their note payment on time. Hell, business is business, he always said, and if you can’t take it, you shouldn’t be in it. At least that was the way Henry Hawkins saw things — he never believed in giving any quarter, just as he expected none if the chips happened to be on the opposite side.
But it wasn’t good to dwell too much on thoughts like that now… there was something much more important at hand. Yes, this cute little thing was in for a real surprise. Just about another hour oughta’ do it, he though. He nearly chuckled out loud as he thought of the look on Gloria’s face as he dumped the powdery Spanish Fly into Sarah’s syrupy rum and Coke. There was always plenty of it in the veterinary cupboard for when they breeded the animals… and for other little surprises like this one. Gloria had been the first, and she was getting close to the end of her prime now, though God knows she certainly didn’t need any drugs to help her out now. Christ, she could fuck the balls off a dozen men before she got her second wind. But this one… this one was sweet and still innocent. Marriage may have cost her her cherry, but she was just as pure as the day she turned sixteen, and that was just what the show needed. Oh yeah, little lady, you’re in for a big surprise… you’ll probably wet those sweet white panties when you find out what’s really in store for you, but you’ll come around, they all do. And I’m gonna’ have some real fun with you while you’re making up your mind. Yes sir, some real fun!
Gloria was waiting impatiently at the door of her silver-colored trailer when Hawkins returned from his camper. She was wearing a man’s shirt tied to make a kind of halter and a pair of ragged jeans and boots, her usual around-camp wear. “Well, how’d it go, Henry? Hurry up, tell me!” she urged eagerly. Nearly an hour had passed since he came over here through the wooded thicket to dump that powerful aphrodisiac into the new blonde’s drink, and she was beside herself with expectant curiosity.
“She took it like mother’s milk,” he grinned in the macabre yellow glare of the trailer’s outside bulb. “Shouldn’t be long now.”
“Ooo, I can hardly wait,” the mid-thirtyish woman squealed. “Al, hey Al, Henry’s back!” she yelled in that sort of hoarse whisper-shout of someone wishing to yell without being heard too far away. A pot-bellied slight balding man in his mid-forties shuffled groggily into view from the battered trailer’s tiny bedroom. He was holding an open half-quart can of beer and an unlit cigarette was dangling from his lower lip. It stayed there as he spoke, held in place by the wetness of the beer he’d obviously just finished. “Went like clockwork, huh, Henry?” he inquired, dropping the emptied beer can into a plastic trash can lined with newspaper that was positioned by the bedroom door. “When you think she’ll be ready? I wouldn’t mind a piece o’ her ass myself. Did you see those legs? And tits! Man, she’s got a pair like one o’ them fold-out girlies.”
Gloria glared at him half seriously. “You just shut your mouth, Al Badger. You can’t even satisfy the woman you’ve got, much less go spreading it around.”
Henry laughed out loud and his employee’s face momentarily flushed. “Shit, Gloria,” said the heavier one with the tee-shirt that failed to cover his protruding belly. “It’d take half the men in Canada to satisfy you and you know it.”
“Goddamn right, if they all had cocks like that scrawny one of yours!” she taunted.
“Scrawny! You can go to hell, you ol’ whore, I ain’t never had any complaints before!”
“Now, now, you two, save all that energy for later. And anyway, Gloria, you’re gonna’ be gettin’ all the cock you can handle when we give that first show.”
Gloria felt a shiver of anticipation run up her spine at just the thought. She’d done some pretty far-out things since signing up with Henry Hawkins, at least since he found out there wasn’t any money in menagerie shows for kiddies and bored grownups. That was when he decided to add something new, something special just for the men-folks and an occasional thrill-seeking woman or two. That was where she came in — the special show, the one that cost five dollars a head and was well worth it. She put one on, all right, left them with their tongues hanging out when she’d polished off that wolf of Henry’s… and sometimes a donkey if the crowd was right and she felt up to it. Not to mention the one or two she always took out of the audience, just to give the locals something to talk about after they’d pulled up and left. But sometime on this tour, they would try something new and different… and even Gloria was nervous about how it would work out.
“Gimme’ a beer, Al, and I’ll go back and see how our new little girl is doing with the something special I gave her. She oughta’ be about to come in her pants about right now.”
“How about it, Henry? You gonna’ share this one now, or have I got to stand in line?”
“Oh no, not tonight, it’s too soon for that. But I tell you what — you two come on over in a little while and take a look-see through that window over the sink. Maybe you’ll get a little show, who knows!”
Sarah had already slipped out of her clothes and into a pale green nightie before Henry Hawkins walked the distance over to Al and Gloria’s trailer. She was tired and sleepy and the couple of drinks her new boss fixed her made it even worse, so all she wanted was to get under those covers and close her eyes.
But then it happened… not all at once, but in little short spurts, brief quivering spasms of intense feeling and stimulation that coursed through her scantily-clad young body in surge after surge of frightening strangeness. It didn’t worry her much at first; after all, it could have been anything — the onset of some virus from all the travel and excitement, or maybe just her insides knotting up from the newness of all this or… but there was soon no way of kidding herself. Something, indeed, had happened to her, just as surely as if a hidden switch inside her brain had been triggered open. First the feeling of blood rushing heatedly to her belly, then the tingling spreading upward through her thighs, then to her lushly quivering breasts where they reddened slightly and began to swell with an excitement all their own. And then her tiny young nipples began to throb as if in wicked perverse accompaniment to the unknown song of quickening desire that was somehow welling inside her at this very moment.
Her mind reeled for a moment and then her confused thoughts, blurred by the effects of the unaccustomed liquor, began to come together in one frightening melange of apprehension and suspicious fear. What is happening to me? Something’s wrong… maybe I’ve been poisoned. Yes, that’s it, poisoned! No, that can’t be right, who would poison me? Maybe it’s the liquor, maybe I’m allergic to something in those drinks.
“You sick or somethin’, Sarah?” She jumped half a foot off the camper floor at the sudden intrusion; turning, startled, she saw that Mr. Hawkins had let himself in through the unlocked door and was standing there in the doorway only a few feet away. Only she couldn’t see him, at least not clearly. He was more a smeared, shapeless mass to her blurry eyes than the man she remembered from just a short while ago.
“You scared me. I didn’t know you were coming back,” she said slowly and deliberately, wondering if the words sounded the same on the other side of her lips as they did to her. She was shaking her head from side to side, as if that might clear the murkiness from her mind and enable her to think clearly once again…
“Sorry, honey,” he smiled. “I guess I should have knocked. Didn’t know you were getting ready for bed.” He glanced down along the scarcely concealed smooth curves of her voluptuous young body, her high jutting breasts and long shapely legs clearly visible to his obviously appraising stare. She crossed her arms over her firmly ripened breasts and stirred uncomfortably, uneasy under the suddenly coldness of his gaze.
“I… I guess I must have a bit of an upset stomach. Maybe it’s the change in scenery. I’ve heard it can do that to you, huh?”
“That’s right, Sarah, just a little virus or something,” he said warmly, and she quickly felt reassured, though no less uncomfortable standing here like this. He might have been old enough to be her father, but that was no fatherly look in his eyes when he first came in. “Better let me take a look. I’m no doctor, but traveling around like I do in the back country, I’ve had to pick up a bit of medicine just to keep all my folk in one piece. Not to mention all the vet’rinary learning I’ve managed to accumulate.”
“Oh, I’m all right. It’s n-nothing,” she stammered nervously as he stepped toward her. She was afraid of him — she didn’t like this new chilling hardness in his eyes. It was incredible — even when he talked so sweetly, it was still there. It couldn’t have been there before… or maybe she just didn’t see it then. “P-please, really, it’s just a cold or something. I’ll go on to bed and I’ll be as fit as can be in the morning, honest!”
A menacing, yellow-toothed grin opened his face like it had been hacked with a cleaver. “Just the same, I better take a look. Can’t be too careful, you know.”
The rough-skinned man stepped toward her, and the terrified young blonde backed hastily toward the rear of the camper, as if some sort of security were offered by the wall at her back, though there was no way out except through the door behind Hawkins or through the tiny crawlway into the truck cab which was out of the question. She stopped moving backwards only when her back touched the back wall, her neck just below the edge of the bed that was above the truck cab. There was nowhere else to go. Suddenly, with no warning, he reached out to her and, with a coarse sneering laugh, gripped the flimsy gauze-like sheerness of her nightie in one calloused hand and, with a quick twist, yanked the thin garment from her smooth shoulders, ripping it in half like it was a strip of toweling. She stood all but naked before his eagerly probing eyes, as much confused and astonished as frightened, only the soft protruding mound of her drug-inflamed vagina still hidden from his cold appraising stare by her thin panties.
“Please, please,” she begged, and her melon-firm breasts heaved with every agonizing plea. “You can’t mean this, Mr. Hawkins! This isn’t right, you just can’t! Please!” Tears streamed from the corner of her eyes as she hoarsely begged for mercy, but there was not a hint of hesitation in the older man’s eyes… he knew what he wanted, and he would get it. It was just a matter of time.
“Why, Missy, I reckon’ I just don’t know what you’re talking about,” he drawled, affecting his finest Georgia-cracker tone and looking not-at-all dumb and innocent of any wrong-doing. He grinned wider as his hand seemed to absent-mindedly roam along the inside of his pants leg. Sarah’s eyes widened in genuine fright when she spotted the rapidly-swelling bulge that grew right before her eyes along the inside of his thigh.
“You oughta’ be gettin’ about right,” he leered. “Notice anything different the last half-hour or so?”
Sarah’s thoughts whirled dizzily… I haven’t been poisoned, I’ve been drugged! That’s why I feel so strange! I can see it now… he put something in my drink!
His open palm touched her nakedly quivering breast, his fingers brushing lightly against her upturned, quivering nipple. A shiver of terror and revulsion rippled through her chest and tied knots in her trembling belly. Maybe if she had been less frightened, less caught-unaware, she would have noticed better the still-growing, festering something that had plagued her senses earlier. But Sarah could not fully grasp it, could not begin to comprehend the depth of her ensnarement now… she was trapped, tied, and bound as surely as if by a dozen fetters — and fast on her way to the deepest, vilest depths of human depravity… and there was no way on earth to stop it!
“No… please, n-no, Mr. Hawkins,” she trembled. “You’ve had too much to drink or something. You-you’re not yourself… please, just leave me alone and we’ll forget this ever happened, please!”
Sarah knew her plight was not totally hopeless; there was still a hope left for her. Maybe he would leave her alone after all. Maybe if she could just grit her teeth and let him touch her, just hold back the nausea and revulsion long enough to let his dirty fingers course over her warm, naked flesh, maybe that would satisfy him and the nice Mr. Hawkins she knew before would take his rightful place again. She knew even to think such things was wrong, but what choice was there? She could scream for help… but everyone within earshot was an employee of this man, dependent on him for bread and their very survival. How could they be expected to aid her, a total stranger, at the expense of their own livelihoods? Of course, maybe he would leave her alone and just go away if she screamed, but that would be the end of her job. That would mean being dumped up here, penniless, in the wilds of Northern Canada or worse still, having to go back to Jamie in Blackjack, head-hung, and begging for forgiveness. No, I won’t go back there, no matter what, I can’t go back to Jamie. That’s over and done, and I’ve got to make this new life work or there’s nowhere left for me to go. I’ve got to… got to!
Perhaps a more experienced woman, craftier in the ways of the world and of desiring men, would have seen the futility in those thoughts, seen the hopelessness of such a choice and have taken off on a new tack, leaving all this and her past, too, behind. Maybe even Sarah Olsen herself could have made a clearer-headed decision that night if she hadn’t been doped on enough Spanish Fly to drive a dozen women insane with animal lust… but the decision was made, the die was cast, and Sarah Olsen took the one last step that catapulted her into a shadowy world she didn’t know existed, one that might be the only one she would ever know.
Henry Hawkins was out of his pants and undershorts before Sarah realized what was happening. It was all like some kind of scene from a bad movie, all a quick dizzying blur as she watched the man disrobe through eyes glazed and heavy with the drug and with the strong liquor. He was naked now from the waist to his ankles, still wearing his black socks that fell down around the tops of his shoes in a tired heap. He made a truly ludicrous spectacle standing there, looking for all the world like a character in an ancient stag movie, only minus the mask and hair-line mustache. But Sarah was in no position to laugh… she was trapped through her own carelessness and stupidity and, short of running home like a scared little girl to Jamie, there was nothing to do but face up to him, do as he asked and hope that she could live with herself when it was over.
The whole front of his lower body looked to be covered with hair, a thick woolly fur that thickened and curled around his thighs and loins. His hand fondly rubbed his long dangling penis hanging from the coarse thicket and, as if he had given some secret inner command, it really began to swell and grow, leaping in spasmodic jerks into full, threatening rigidity. That same evil grin, only now more of a growingly triumphant sneer, spread lewdly across his face as his lust-hardened shaft grew even larger and thicker. “Not bad for an old man, huh, Miss?” he chuckled. “Bet that ol’ man you left behind in California couldn’t match it inch for inch in a million years, right?” There was no reply from the frightened blonde. “Answer me, bitch! It’s quite a cock, huh?”
Sarah gulped down her fear and nodded. “Y-Yes, yes, it is,” she murmured hoarsely.
“Come on over here and feel it, baby. You needn’t be afraid.”
Almost as if she didn’t have a mind of her own Sarah obediently moved closer, reluctantly, both hands over her breasts still, as they rose and fell anxiously in her fright and apprehension.
“Go on, touch it!” He grabbed one of her arms and pulled it down close to his massively throbbing cock, and she opened her fingers just as his own tightened painfully around her delicate wrist. Her fingertips brushed along its hot, awesome length and the menacing monster seemed to grow even thicker, though that would have seemed impossible.
Sarah felt the proper revulsion, as she knew she ought to, but there was something deep inside her insides she couldn’t quite define as yet, something that seemed like a candle lit far down in the dark sanctuary of her belly, only a tiny warm glow, but somehow bearing the threat of bursting into a raging inferno at any minute. That was the only way to describe it… she marked it up as fear and nausea, but in the back of her mind she knew there must be another explanation.
“Get down on your knees!” came the unexpected barked command, and the frightened young blonde only looked back at her superior with disbelieving eyes. She thought she had prepared herself for the worst, that maybe she would have to sacrifice all her decency and let this man touch her to satisfy his filthy lust, but this… this was beyond all humanity! He couldn’t mean what she thought, he couldn’t! Even with Jamie she had never done such a thing. It was vile and degenerate, the kind of thing whores do for money, not decent people. She wouldn’t… she couldn’t!
Nothing, no countless hours of fear and worry, could have prepared the terrified young girl for what the lecherous Hawkins did next. His hand darted forward, his face still snarled in the contemptuous knot of hate and lust mixed obscenely, and Sarah reacted instinctively, fully expecting to catch the brunt of an awful, punishing blow for her disobedience to his wanton will. But it wasn’t a cruel fist or stinging palm that crossed her flesh… instead he only closed his fingers around the full, ripe mound of her breast and then skillfully manipulated the nakedly sensitive flesh, bringing out the desire effect in her like a musician tuning up his instrument. Her arm shot up to push his hand away, but she caught herself in mid-stride. That certain something strange inside her again had grown suddenly more powerful and commanding, and whatever it was told her forcefully to leave his fingers where they were.
Feeling the weird sensations in her abdomen growing more and more intense, spreading inside her like fire spreads in a tree, from one limb to another until the whole organism is aflame with a raging holocaust of intensity, Sarah was amazed to find herself unable to resist his command. Obediently, instinctively somehow, she sank to her knees as if her legs had become boneless, and found herself at his feet, naked save for her little white panties, and totally vulnerable now at this depraved man’s merciless whim. She tried not to look at his nakedness, to shut her eyes and keep away the nauseating reality of the presence of his long hard penis. She could feel its heatedly throbbing tip brushing against her forehead, nuzzling through the fine spray of her blonde bangs. It was fully erect now, and the lust-swollen head was completely out of its elastic sheath and poised… ready for what she knew now was inevitable. Yet strangely, she could scarcely sense her fear at all… it was as if all her emotions had been blocked out by some powerful drug. All, that is, except one… and that one was making itself unbearably apparent inside her belly as a sudden itching sensitiveness spread over her hidden private parts like an epidemic pox. It was more and more obvious what this strangeness inside her was, or what it was becoming, but she refused to give in to it, refused to acknowledge its strength and her own surrender.
“What the hell are you waiting for, you silly bitch? Haven’t you ever sucked a cock before? You suck this one just like you suck one of them scrawny little ones you’re used to.”
Sarah turned her flaming face away from the massively pulsating shaft that was level now with her face. Her eyes were closed, partly from fear and partly from shame.
“Hurry it up, cunt! Get those sweet lips around it or I’ll stick it all the way down to your belly and choke you on it. Now move!” He had not really planned to get so rough with her, usually with the Spanish Fly, it wasn’t necessary… Goddamn it, why doesn’t that shit work!
He grabbed the side of her head, his fingers twisted in her hair and positioned her right in front of his lust-hardened cock. Still her wetly trembling lips were closed and his fingers wound viciously in her silken blonde hair until she cried out from the sudden, searing pain that shot across her scalp. It felt as if all her hair were being yanked out by the roots.
“You’d better open up, baby! Right now!”
Without thinking, her ripe young lips parted and he rammed his thick pole of hardened flesh home, slamming it forward with a quick snap of his loins. The hotly throbbing penis slid over her tongue and rammed against the back of her throat, poking painfully against the tender untried flesh of her virginal throat passage. She gagged on its immense thickness and choked for air, but he wasn’t satisfied yet.
“Relax those throat muscles and behave yourself, girl… relax ’em, or I’ll ram it out your asshole!”
Sarah gasped an unintelligible plea, unable to breathe as the long hot hardness filled her mouth and throat completely, leaving no room at all for air to enter her lungs. Seeing no other way but total obedience to his perverted demands, she managed to relax her throat a bit, and to her amazement, the heatedly throbbing cock now squirmed easily down her open throat channel. She could feel it far down in her, filling her completely, impaling her through her tightly ovalled lips as she stretched her mouth to accommodate his massive hardness. She was lower now than the lowest, she had sunk to the very bottom depths of this pit of wanton wickedness she had made for herself. She had become, in a matter of minutes, less than human… nothing more than a receptacle for this depraved animal’s seething lust. She felt the tears on her cheeks, but she could not stop them now. There seemed nothing else to do but get it over with as soon as possible. She knew that to delay was sheer folly… God only knew what might happen to her if she crossed him now. Oh, please let this be a dream!
Hawkins watched her carefully, noting every movement, every naked precious inch of her tender young body. His hands slid to her bare shoulders; they were soft, warm, like rare velvet. He could feel the shame-hardened tips of her erect little nipples, crowning fleshy peaks of her firmly ripened breasts that jutted out and rubbed sensuously against his bare legs. He grabbed her head again and worked her wetly ovalled lips back and forth faster on his immense choking cock. She took the cue quickly, not wanting to rile his savage lust any higher, ready to do anything to end this horrible vile act and free her to try to find an excuse to live another minute.
“Mmmmmmmm, that’s real nice, a whole lot better, baby. Now suck it real hard… harder ‘n hell, real hard!”
Sarah gagged every time the long hard cock tunneled down her throat passage, brushing the sides of her gullet, filling the narrow channel with its huge, blood-engorged head. She could feel the muscles of her throat involuntarily milking the hot, vicious shaft with every downward thrust, and she could see what an effect it was having on this madman. She could feel his heatedly pulsating penis grow even harder, even thicker as swirling, lust-heated blood filled the turgid organ and a seething pool grew more and more inflamed in his heavy, leathery balls.
“C’mon, baby, I’m almost there!”
Those words stopped her heart, froze her still with the agonizing disgust of a helpless, ravished gutter slut. God, almighty, he was going to do it! He was going to shoot his heated, lustful sperm deep down into her helpless throat. Oh my God, what can I do? What can I do?
Though Sarah was not aware of it, she and the lustful old man had an audience just a few scant feet away. Through the window above the camper’s galley kitchen, through the couple of inches of glass that wasn’t covered with opaque curtain, Gloria and Al stood on tiptoe, heads one above the other, vying for the best view of the incredibly lascivious show going on like some porno movie inside this tiny screen. Jesus, they both thought, is that broad ever beautiful. Those tits and those legs! Man, what a body! Gloria was every bit as excited by this wickedly exciting performance as her sometime-boyfriend, Al. Damn, she thought in her hidden inner passions, I’d like to give that honey a ride myself. And maybe tonight’s my chance. I’ve kept my little secret desires to myself too long!
She felt Al’s bare hand slip up under her mini dress as she tiptoed up to see into the camper. As usual, she wasn’t wearing panties, and she only squirmed a bit and let out a muffled giggle as his outstretched middle finger found her already-moist slit. She opened her thighs to give him better leverage and breathed deeply to hold back her gasp of surprise, for he was suddenly far up inside her, probing hungrily inside her wet, hotly excited cuntal sheath. She looked into his eyes for a moment, taking her gaze away for only a second from the wonderfully salacious spectacle of this young blonde chick with a body like a Vegas showgirl down on her knees like some two-dollar skid-row whore, her boss’s thick, wetly glistening penis shoved so far down her throat that his pubic hairs brushed her nose and cheeks with every thrusting shove. “Don’t get me too horny, baby,” she whispered softly into his ear, her cheek against his unshaven bristle. “This might be a long, long night!”
Hawkins felt the flood coming like a Bay of Bengal tidal wave… he made no attempt to hold it back; he’d waited long enough for this moment. He hoped it would come in quarts — buckets full — he hoped his lust-swollen balls would disgorge great sticky gobs of sperm, a hot, sticky river to flood her belly and break the young bitch in right. Yes sir, this little blonde had better get in step quick, ’cause she’s got a hell of a career coming right up. He’d give her something to keep in mind, something she’d long remember as his load sloshed in her belly. His hands squeezed her head vice more, holding her pinned tight up against his pumping loins, her face crushed in his sweaty pubic hair. He pushed far, far down her throat, straining as if to bury the aching head of his wildly jerking cock in her very belly. Here it comes… he could feel it starting its long, deliciously-painful run down the long turgid shaft of his penis. He stopped dead as it reached the swollen, hard-throbbing knob at the end, paused for an eternity, then exploded against the sides of her working throat and swirled down into her belly in thick, gulping waves.
“Now, honey, now! Suck it like it was your mama’s tit, baby! Every last drop! Suck, damn you, suck!”
Sarah swallowed again and again and again, every choking gulp oozing down her throat like a thick creamy soup. Her mind was spinning like a child’s top; and she was lost for the moment in her own despair and self-debasement when it happened… that gnawing hot flame that had been bothering her like a fly around her head was now raging out of control. In her shame and humiliation, her utter subjugation, she had failed to be aware of its sudden all-consuming intensification. Oh God, yes, it’s burning inside me… I feel strange, so strange… and… and… oh dear God, I want it! What’s happened to me! I want this sperm, this vile seething torrent, I want every previous drop inside me! And I want his cock… oh merciful God, I want any cock! Please, I need one in me so bad! It’s burning me up inside!
The flames of drug-induced desire had spread from the junction of her nakedly trembling thighs up the plane of her belly and into the very throbbing pink tips of her erect little nipples. She fondled them frantically with her fingers, then, lost completely now in her wild and sudden frantic passion, felt her own hand slide down inside her panties and begin to tenderly stroke the folds of warm, wet flesh around the achingly-tender clitoris. She felt her hotly quivering vaginal lips open of their own accord and a flood of her own passion juices seeping down the insides of her sleek upper thighs as she sucked hard, incredibly hard. She was sucking now because she wanted to. She wanted all of his hot viscous discharge to spurt down her throat, as if it somehow might quench the flames of animal wantonness that were raging so fiercely now in her belly. She swallowed in gushing, sloshing waves of savage hot fluid. Her arms were suddenly behind his thighs, holding his naked loins to her lips, then her fingers stroked his sinewy asscheeks, caressed his anus. An instant later, darting furtively, they were on his rapidly emptying testicles, caressing them, squeezing them delicately, until every last drop was drained into her throat. “You’re finally there, you whore! Suck it like the slut you are, suck it!”
When Sarah finally managed to get her eyes opened and focused again, Hawkins had put his pants back on and was zipping up his pants. Suddenly she realized that her hand was still inside her own panties, that she was openly and wantonly fondling herself, but she couldn’t stop. God, it feels so good! I’m so hot inside… so hot. I need a man inside me there, any man!
“P-Please…” Her lips were parched dry and the word came out like a dying gasp of someone lost on the desert in the burning sun. “Don’t l-leave me like… like this,” she begged, but he only laughed at her, sneering down at her as she writhed helplessly on the shag-carpeted floor.
“You’ve had all you’re gonna’ get for now, honey,” he grinned evilly. “But I’ll be back.” And with that he opened the camper door and was gone.
Sarah felt the tears return to her eyes, but she didn’t care any longer. Hurrying, frantic with all the frenetic passion of a teenager about to be made love to for the first time, she lifted her smoothly rounded buttocks from the floor and pulled her panties down her firm young thighs, over her supple calves, and tossed them aside. Gone now was that shred of decency she had retained… gone was any fragment of modesty or shame. Nothing mattered now but this burning agony up inside her that ached — screamed — for fulfillment. Her fingers spread the fleshy moist ridges of her cunt and found the quivering, nerve-packed bud of her clitoris. Her whole body snapped like the end of a bullwhip when she made that first electric contact. “Yes… oh dear God, yes!”
And through the half-covered kitchen window, three eagerly attentive faces watched with undisguised excitement as this ravenously beautiful young blonde brought herself up and over that delicious pinnacle of self-fulfillment. They watched, eyes wide with glee, as she arched off the floor, escaping her half-parted lips as one hand frantically rubbed through the moistness of her ravenous cleft and over the bud of her gleaming little clitoris; the fingers of her other hand were sunk deeply and satisfyingly up inside her hot, hungrily clasping vagina.
For a moment, no one even breathed outside the camper window. Then, Henry Hawkins finally spoke. “Don’t worry… that little bit o’ foolin’ around won’t hardly be enough. No sir, she’s gonna’ need a lot more tonight. A lot more!”
“I say we get on with it, dammit! We’ve waited long enough, Henry. Shit, she might have gotten over that dose of Spanish Fly you gave her and gone to sleep by now!” Al Badger was pacing the floor of his trailer like one of the caged animals, waving his arms, gesturing, walking back and forth until he had both his companions as nervous and high-strung as he.
“Oh, all right, Al,” said Hawkins finally, getting out of his well-worn chair. “I can’t take much more of your pacing anyhow. She oughta’ be ’bout right by now. I guess I was a mite too soon before. It hadn’t really took.”
Gloria hah-hahed a questioning laugh. “She looked pretty much into it to me. From where we stood she seemed about to suck your guts out through that prick of yours. Or didn’t you notice?”
“Oh, stop being a wise-ass, Gloria,” snapped Hawkins. “You’re just jealous ’cause she’s better looking than you, that’s all. It just sticks in your craw that Al and me are so damn fired up about fuckin’ that sweet littl’ thing, don’t it? You’d rather we stayed here and put the meat to your ol’ wornout ass, ain’t that right?” he teased her viciously.
“No, not really,” retorted the older blonde haughtily, “But maybe I’ll get a bit of the action myself. There are other ways, you know. Haven’t you guys heard of women’s lib? We girls don’t need you any more.”
Henry and Al just looked at each other, dumb-founded. They’d seen Gloria do just about anything you could think of with a man or an animal, but they’d never seen her go at it with another woman. Now this might be something really interesting, they were both thinking.
“Just one thing, Gloria,” began Henry.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Don’t come on too strong, you know what I mean? Like maybe it would be better if you sort of pretend you’re being forced into it, understand?”
The toothy blonde grinned and her eyes sparkled. “I get you! So she’ll think we’re in it together, right?”
“Right. That way she’s got a friend to lean on sort of. You never know with this Spanish Fly. It affects broads in the strangest ways. I’ve seen ’em go stark raving bananas, so we can’t be too careful. Remember, we want her for the sex circus, and she’s no good to us if she flips her lid, okay?” Al and Gloria both nodded solemnly — he was right, they’d been looking a long time for just the right girl, one with that look of innocence the men in the audience always go for and one with no ties or family waiting somewhere for the chance to go to the police after the first postcard from their dear child. Yes, this one was perfect, all right, and it wouldn’t do to blow the whole operation at this late date. Hawkins’ face suddenly lighted. “Should we take Lobo? Think she’s ready for it?” His friends’ answer showed in their eyes… Ready or not, she was in for a big surprise!
Sarah was lying fitfully on the convertible bed when the three people and, the great yellow-eyed wolf entered the camper; she was squirming from side to side like some poor soul with an attack of appendicitis. Only the three of them knew it wasn’t her appendix that was inflamed and about to burst… it was her tight little pussy!
“P-Please… leave me alone… just leave me, please,” she whimpered feebly, her words barely coming from her throat as her whole body filled with husky yearnings of her incredible, unrequited passion.
“Now you don’t really mean that, honey,” grinned Hawkins down at her as she lay there writhing like a bug stuck with a pin. “We all came over for a… a little party. Ain’t that right, Gloria?”
“Yeah, if you say so, Henry. Only I don’t like the looks of this. Something’s wrong with this girl, Henry. You didn’t say nothing about this,” she said very seriously, playing her part as skillfully as a professional.
“Aw, c’mon, Gloria, we just want some fun, that’s all. Maybe you’d like to be first with our little friend here. She seems to be in need of some help right now.”
“No, Henry, I won’t have any part of it,” she spat convincingly at her employer.
“Oh, but you will… now get your clothes off!”
“Henry, no, I can’t!”
Henry took a step forward and raised his fist as if to strike her across the face. Beside him, the vicious looking wolf growled menacingly while the naked young blonde, mindless of her nakedness, mindless of everything save this agonizing burning inside her belly, watched curiously. After a moment’s standoff, the older blonde woman seemed to relent and began, reluctantly and hesitantly, to take off her clothes. Even in her mindless stupor, Sarah was conscious enough to be surprised at the older woman’s nicely-formed, fully-developed body. It was the body of a sensually mature woman, that much was certain… as different from her own as an Italian sex symbol’s figure might be from a ripening young model. Both of them were beautiful in their own rightful womanly voluptuousness and ripened, opposite pert young womanhood.
Henry pointed to Gloria, “You… lie down there on that bed… on your back so’s I can see all your sweets.” Gloria didn’t argue; she climbed onto the yard-high bed that was longer than she was, stretched out, and lay perfectly still, not voicing any objections. He grabbed both her ankles, and she closed her eyes tightly, looking for all the world to be as frightened as the younger girl at her side. Henry seemed to have something else in mind for them, and he started by spreading her legs apart with his hands, opening up the pink, hair-lined slit of her pussy so that he and his pal could see her wetly pouting cuntal lips.
“You…” He meant Sarah, “… get up there with her, kinda’ kneeling like, with your head other way. I wanna’ see some sixty-nining, you know what I mean?” The words seemed hard for him to speak, and he hesitated at the very mention of this act he obviously deemed something special, a rare and treasured moment for him to witness. Sarah obeyed, also without any hesitation; that look on his face was worth a dozen threats. She placed her knees at Gloria’s sides and kneeled on all fours as she was ordered, then waited for his next perverted instruction. Her full ripe breasts dangled freely beneath her as she knelt and as Gloria breathed in and out, they lightly touched the older woman’s naked belly; the pink nipples tingled and quivered, but this time not with excitement, but with revulsion and dread. She’d never really thought about doing anything like this; she knew it went on, but she never thought she’d be part of it. It was an unthinkable act to Sarah, something she couldn’t remember even fantasizing about, even in her wildest schoolgirl daydreams. The very thought of it turned her stomach… but she knew what he wanted her to do. She knew what lewd despicable act he wanted the two of them to perform, spread out here naked on this platform like two performers in a stag club. She tried not to think about it, to resign herself to getting it over with as quickly as he would allow, to keeping her mind off it… but it was harder and harder to face as the seconds ticked by.
“Well, what’re you waitin’ for? Get on with it!” growled Hawkins, now only a couple of feet away with his vicious four-legged companion at his side. The wolf obviously hated her perhaps only because she was a woman, but Hawkins was holding him securely by his heavy collar to keep him back, without that restraint he looked fierce enough to tear them both apart without much effort.
Sarah tried to speak, but the words hung in her dry throat; she managed finally to cough them out. “Please, I can’t… I’ve never done anything like this before. I wouldn’t even know how!” Her pleas obviously were falling on deaf ears, but Gloria saved her the trouble of another futile try.
“Don’t worry, I’ll show you what they want us to do,” she offered, stretched flat on her back beneath her friend. “Just do what I do and you won’t get hurt…” She looked to the men questioningly. “Right?” Hawkins grinned a gleaming, gold-splashed grin that answered her question, and Gloria proceeded to carry out the orders these man had given her.
She could see all of Sarah’s naked young body kneeling over hers, see the full, womanly breasts that teasingly brushed her abdomen if she breathed hard enough to bring it that high; the slim, creamy thighs that blended so smoothly with the bottom-crease of her ass were just a few inches from her face now. And the warmly perfumed pussy slit nestled so invitingly there above her in the fleecy down of Sarah’s soft pubic mound. Yes, Gloria told herself, this scene has something going for it, something nice, real nice…
She reached up and locked her hands around the delicate curve of the young blonde’s back and pulled her naked pelvis toward her hungrily parted lips. Sarah hesitated at first, Gloria could feel her tense and pull away. But a reassuring sound was all the girl needed, and she relaxed, allowing her loins to be lowered to Gloria’s face. A visible shiver raced through Sarah’s body as Gloria’s slightly puckered lips touched the damp furrow of her heatedly throbbing pussy; Gloria felt a tickling sensation as the softly curling pubic fluff brushed her nose. Closing her eyes, she pressed her parted wet lips hard against the ragged, rose-colored lips of the girl’s vagina. She felt her tense again, her thigh muscles grow hard and sinewy. After a moment though, Sarah followed her lead and lowered her own lips until her head was cradled against the flat plane of Gloria’s abdomen and touching the soft, hair-covered pubic mound.
Sarah tentatively, cautiously, kissed the fragrant cleft up between Gloria’s legs, fully aware of the shivers that her gentle touch sent through the older woman’s belly. It wasn’t as bad as she’d expected, though she was still fighting to hold back the choking nausea in her throat. She mimicked her friend’s actions perfectly, and as Gloria began to nibble tenderly on the soft flanges of her pussy, she returned with the same delivered to the woman’s naked loins. She tried not to think, to force her mind

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