Beastiality

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!

Chapter 2

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.

Chapter 3

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 …”

Chapter 4

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!

Chapter 5

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.

Chapter 6

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!”

Chapter 7

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!”

Chapter 8

“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,

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