Sally didn't make any fuss. The sight of her little friend getting the shit screwed out of her by Butch seemed to have taken out whatever starch she still had in her sails. She carried her suitcase, as Max ordered, and walked into the front bedroom. Pete took Julie's arm and ushered her into the master bedroom. Julie didn't make any trouble, either. She looked back over her shoulder at Max and Sally just disappearing through the doorway, but that was all. No doubt she couldn't quite get used to the idea of her darling little sister getting raped. Well, she'd just have to get used to it.
The front bedroom was just off the hall, right behind the screened porch. It had one window on the side of the house. Max pulled the shade down and swore to himself over Pete's carelessness in not pulling it down by now. He half-expected Sally to make a break for the door and the porch while he was at the window. When he turned back to her, she was still standing in the middle of the room with her suitcase in her hand, leaning slightly to the side from the weight of it.
"Why don't you put that down?" Max said with a laugh. "You're going to stay a while, and it might get in the way of things." She put the suitcase down and stood looking at him. Her hands worked at her sides, her fingers rubbing at her palms.
Max sat down on the foot of the three-quarter size bed and lit a cigarette. He had found a carton of them that morning, in a drawer in the kitchen. "You're a little cooler than your friend, aren't you?"
"I guess so." She had a hard time looking at him while she spoke. Her long, light brown hair hung like a halo about her face, setting off the face's beauty. She looked like an angel, or a Madonna.
"It must run in the family. Your sister was as cool as ice last night. Until we got to the fucking, that is. Then she warmed right up." The statement, and the language, drew a shudder from her, but that was all. Max had to hand it to her. "Watching Butch out there giving your friend the works really got me turned on. Isn't that the term you kids use nowadays? Turned on?"
"That's right."
"Well, I don't usually go for stag shows. I prefer doing it to watching it. But I appreciate watching a smartness kid get her comeuppance. And that's what Connie got just now."
She looked surprised, as though it hadn't occurred to her that there might be anything other than ordinary, sexual desire behind his actions. "You don't like young people?"
"I've got nothing against them. Not the boys, anyway. It's you smart little bitches, I don't like. Don't get me wrong. I like you physically. I just don't much like you as people."
There was a shift in her expression. She looked like something had just occurred to her. "There's some reason you wanted me instead of Julie, isn't there? I mean, it isn't just that you think I'm prettier. It's something else."
"You're younger. That's something."
"That's still not all of it."
"Bravo. If you were in a class of mine, I'd give you an A for that little bit of logic. Sure, there's something else. You remind me of someone."
"What did you mean about being in a class of yours? Are you a teacher?"
"Didn't you hear about it on the news? I'd think they'd be giving profiles on all three of us by this time. Sure, I was a teacher. A college professor, in fact."
"Was it one of your students? Whoever it was who made you hate young girls?"
"There's another A. It sure was."
"And I remind you of her?"
"Right. You remind me of her. You're sixteen, aren't you?"
"Yes. I'll be seventeen in six weeks."
"If you're alive in six weeks." That made her blanch, but she recovered in a moment.
"You want me to be scared, don't you? You want me to hurt inside from fear."
"Sure. Does knowing that make it any easier?" He smiled. "You're good at hiding it, but you're scared as hell right now."
"Well, of course I'm scared. Wouldn't you be?"
"You're scared, and you're going to fuck for me, aren't you, Sally?"
She looked away from him. "Do I have a choice?"
"Sure. You can fuck for me, or you can fuck for Butch out there."
"Okay. I'll take you. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Glad to know I'm number one on the hit parade," he said, smiling. "She was a little older than you."
The quick change of subject confused her for a moment. She looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"The student," he explained. "The one you were asking about a moment ago."
"I assumed she was, if she was in college."
"She was nineteen. Are you a virgin?"
The question brought another quiver along her spine. "Yes," she said.
"She wasn't. Not when I knew her. But she was nineteen. If you hadn't run into this situation, I doubt you'd have been a virgin by the time you were nineteen. You're too beautiful, and there are too many guys around who are happy as hell to relieve you of your hymen. And girls nowadays don't place that much importance on virginity. She didn't."
"What did she do to you? It must have been something pretty bad, to make you want to…"
"She's the one who put me in the death house, sweets."
"I see. You mean she testified against you, and you were innocent or something like that?"
"No. I mean I was guilty under the law. And she didn't testify against me. She could hardly do that since she was deader than hell at the time."
"My God, she's the one you killed."
"That's right. As I said, I was guilty under the law. But the law doesn't take as much into consideration as it should. She deserved to die."
"And you had a right to kill her?"
"I sure as fuck did. She ruined my life. She came into one of my classes and decided to have a little fun with the stodgy old prof. Maybe it was a bet with her little friends or something. I don't know. Maybe she just wanted to be sure she got a good grade in the class."
"Maybe she found you attractive."
"Sure. Maybe. Anyway, she put the make on me. I didn't have to do any chasing where she was concerned. All I had to do was stand still and let myself be caught."
"You didn't have to be caught, you know. You could have told her you weren't interested."
"No man would have told her that. She was beautiful. Like you. And she knew it, like you. She liked the things the sight of her body did to men. She liked to feel their eyes on her. She loved it when pricks were standing at attention, and they were yearning for her the way a man in the desert yearns for a drink of water. It amused her." He took another puff on the cigarette, saw that it was burned almost down to the filter. He dropped it on the carpet and crushed it with his toe.
"And she had to die for that? Because she liked being beautiful and attractive to men?"
"It was the way she used that attractiveness. There's no excuse for a bitch like that, I was a happily married man. I had children. She made a little game of breaking up my life. She swayed her hips in my face, and when I was helpless and she knew it, she started to take the candy away from baby. She made up little excuses, little reasons why she couldn't spare the time to bed down with me that day. She liked to hear me beg her for it. And I begged. Jesus, how I begged."
"You don't have to tell me all this," Sally said, looking at the window shade with embarrassment all over her face.
"Sure I do. I want you to know what she did, because you're the one who's going to pick up the tab for her fun. You might as well know what you're paying for."
"Didn't she pay enough?"
"Hardly. When she was dead, I… No, I'm getting ahead of the story. Let me tell you how it happened. She started to play with me, as I said. And she started to get bored with me. I knew she was taking up with someone else. She was too damned sexy to do without it. If she wasn't getting her sex with me, she had to be getting it with someone else."
"And that made you jealous."
"Sure it did. You're damned right it did."
"So you killed her?"
"Her and her fucking partner. I followed them one night. He was another student at the college. I followed them to a place where the students went to fuck when they couldn't afford anything better, and when they were together in the back of the cock-sucker's car, I walked up and shot him, right through the window. That was when she panicked. She scared easily, like you. And she lost her cool. Isn't that the term?"
She didn't give him an answer, but when she saw that he was waiting for one, she nodded mutely.
"Well, she lost her cool. She opened the door on the other side of the car and started to run. Naked as a Goddamn egg, running across the landscape. I shot her through the leg. One of those slender, lovely legs. And then I went up and fucked her, while she lay there writhing in agony. And then I killed her. I shot her through the belly, and listened to her beg me to get a doctor. She took fifteen minutes to die."
"How horrible."
"Really? I thought it was pretty nice. What was horrible was what she did to me, to my nice, orderly life. To my marriage. My wife is divorced from me now, and married to another man. A guy I've known for years. They've got my kids with them, and she's had another one by him. Isn't that horrible? I think it is. And that little cunt back on the campus was the one who made it possible. She started the whole thing."
"You're kidding yourself," Sally said with surprising boldness. "You did it. She couldn't have hurt you if you hadn't been ready for her."
"Shut your mouth," Max said. "When I want psychological help, I'll ask for it. She was the one who made it happen. And you know, the moment she was dead, I was sorry. I wanted to bring her back to life. Not that I was sorry I had killed her. I was just sorry she was out of my reach, and I couldn't hurt her any more. She deserved a lot more hurt than she got." He looked at the girl, a slow grin spreading across his face. "And you remind me of her. You could be her twin sister. Does that give you any idea of what's in store for you, sweetheart?"
She licked her lips, but he had to admit she was showing some guts. Well, he'd see how much guts she had when it came down to it. "I guess it does," she said. "I guess I'm in for a bad time. How bad a time do you plan to give me?"
"I'll make it up as I go along. First, I want you to strip down. Right now." He said it with no shift in the tone of his voice. She didn't react right away. It took a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in, and then she looked at him with widened eyes. Something in the flatness of his voice, he guessed, had sent a shiver of fear through her greater than she had felt before. Besides, this was it. This was more than talk. Sally's hands moved aimlessly, in a soft fluttering gesture. He could see the rapid pitching of her breasts, and her breathing became audible. He was about to repeat the command, more firmly, when she raised her hands and began to work at the fastener behind her neck. She had trouble with it.
"Come here," he said. "I'll do that for you."
"No, I can…"
"Come here," he said again. His voice wasn't any louder, but there was a firmness to it, and she got the point. She moved closer to him and turned her back. "Bend your knees a little." He was still sitting on the bed, and she had to move down a little so that he could reach the top of the dress without stretching. He opened the hook-and-eye fastener, then pulled the zipper down her back, as far as it would go. It jammed once, and he had to place a hand on the top of the dress, holding it taut, to get the zipper moving again. It opened all the way down to her ass. She was wearing a slip underneath the dress. It was pink, and it felt soft and smooth. It made his prick stand a little straighter. He could smell her, and it wasn't exactly an unpleasant smell. There was a mingling of soap and shampoo, and nice perfume, and good, clean girl.
"That ought to help," he said. "Now go back where I can watch you." She walked back to her former position, faced him, and pulled the dress over her head. Her hair, long and shining, swirled about her shoulders. The dress, just a piece of cloth now, dropped to the floor.
She was breathing with a steam-engine quickness now. She looked as though she was trying to keep from crying, and trying hard. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she gnawed at her lower lip to hold back. Max grinned at her and waved a casual signal to proceed.
Sally bent at the waist and took the lacy hem of the pink slip in her hands. She pulled it up to the level of her waist, then made a little hip-wiggling movement to work it higher. She pulled the slip up over her head as she had the dress, and threw it to the floor quickly, as though having it in her hand made her more naked.
She was down to pantyhose, bra, and shoes now. She was really an exquisite little thing. The best he'd seen since – well, in a long time. Her skin was like silk, and her fine, aristocratic lines were enough to make a man come standing up. Max grinned even more broadly at her, and, with the air of a Roman emperor signifying his preference, he pointed to the bra.
It was pink, like the slip, but otherwise it was much like the one Connie had worn. Brief, covering her breasts only halfway up. It was soft and thin, almost sheer, not hard and thick. She did not need an uplift model.
For a moment she looked as though she were going to plead with him, but then she steeled herself. He could see her taking hold of her courage, and it was amusing. She reached behind her and worked at the clasps of the bra. She had to work at it for some time, and Max didn't offer to help as he had with the dress. This was too enjoyable. She jiggled invitingly, and the bra wasn't restrictive enough to keep her tits from taking part in the movement.
Finally she got the clasps open. She crossed her arms over her breasts, holding the bra in place for another moment, then let it slide down her arms and drop to the floor. Her tits were lovely, firm and fragile with rose tips. She stood before him, naked from the waist up, looking like she was going to die from embarrassment any moment. Max leaned back on one arm and looked her up and down, letting his eyes rest on her nipples, one at a time, for several seconds. She squirmed and started to cry, unable to hold back any longer. She closed her eyes, and the tears leaked out under her eyelids and ran down her cheeks. Max laughed softly. This was almost worth it all, the months in court, the years in prison, all of it.
"Come here," he said. She opened her eyes and looked at him with panic, but she did not refuse. She forced her legs to carry her forward, coming to him in a jerky, slow movement. Her knees looked as though they were about to give way under her.
Max reached up and took one tiny, slender hand. He gave her a tug, and she sprawled on the bed next to him. Their bodies touched, and he could feel her hair on his arm. She looked terrified now, more afraid than the guys Max had seen heading for the gas chamber. He laughed again and reached forward, slowly, letting her see his hand coming, to cup one of her tits. It felt as good as it looked, soft and warm in his hand, fragile and vulnerable. A shiver passed over her body.
Max drew her close, embracing her with the gentleness of a man who is in command of the situation and needn't be rough. There was no need to hold onto her tightly because there was no chance of her even attempting to escape. She got the message. Her body was tense, poised for flight, but she managed to hold herself still.
He pulled her close and kissed her. She kept her lips together for a moment, then he pressed his tongue between them, and she allowed them to part reluctantly. She seemed about to gag with disgust, horrified at the situation, and her position of helplessness. Max probed the inside of her mouth, tasting her tongue sliding over her teeth and the roof of her mouth, exploring freely. She had the sweet, clean taste of toothpaste and astringent, and young, healthy girl.
Max broke off the kiss and moved his lips over her face, her neck, her throat. She was having a difficult time keeping herself from resisting, he could tell, and that made it all the more enjoyable. He let his right hand slide down the smoothness of her body to the elastic of her pantyhose, and dipped his fingers under it. She squirmed hard then, and tensed, her body stiff and still. He pushed the panties down a half-inch, and repositioned his hands and pushed it down some more. He could feel the beginnings of hair now, and the beginning swell of her pussy.
His hand moved around behind her, to cup one fine, firm cheek in his palm. Her frame trembled and she made a little mewing sound, less than a moan because she was keeping her mouth closed tightly.
Max worked the panties down past her hips with a quick motion of his hand and moved away from her a bit to look at her body. His eyes moved up to her face. She looked terrified and miserable, and he let her see his eyes boring into her own before he moved them down to her pussy.
It was bare. The panties had been pushed down around her thighs, a tangle of nylon that restricted her, pinned her helplessly where she was. Max laid his hand on her belly and slid it down to her pussy, tangling his fingers in her hair and sliding one of them between her thighs to nestle in her crotch.
A moan escaped her now, and she started crying again. Max felt his cock swell to the painful point, throbbing with desire. She was perfection, a soft, warm, clean bundle that pulsed with life and desirability. He pushed the panties down to her knees and then pulled them down over her feet, letting them flutter to the floor.
He stood beside the bed and pulled his shirt and pants off. His undershirt dropped after them, and he was just about to shuck his shorts when he decided to have her do it. He took her hand and pulled her to an upright position on the bed. She had been lying with her eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable. Now she opened her eyes in surprise and looked at him. She looked away quickly. She had probably never seen a nearly naked man before, and his cock was making a very unsightly bulge in his shorts. Max smiled down at her and felt his own body quiver with excitement and desire.
"When two people think a lot of each other, and they're about to screw," Max said, "they usually undress each other. I just did that much for you, now it's your turn." He had to laugh at her expression. She swallowed hard, and her hands shook like hell as she reached out toward him.
The shorts had snaps in the front, and she had trouble pulling the first one open, she was so nervous. She got control of herself and yanked it open, then turned her face away at the mat of hair that was revealed. She pulled the other snaps open at once and withdrew her hands, to let the shorts fall of their own weight. Max held his beefy thighs together, keeping them in place. "Pull them down, sweety," he said. He had trouble controlling his voice. Emotion, desire, excitement, were taking their toll.
Sally took the shorts and pulled them down. Her face came within a few inches of his cock at one point, as it jutted out from his belly. Max couldn't remember ever being more ready than he was now, even last night when Julie hauled his three years' accumulation of ashes.
He was naked now, completely naked, and he lowered himself to the bed again, beside Sally. She lay back without being told, resigned to what was coming, ready for her part in things.
Max took her in his arms. Her body against his was unbelievably exquisite now, with nothing between them. He could feel her hair down below, against his belly. His prick was stiff and ready, and he knew that he didn't have much time for preliminaries. That was too bad because she had the kind of body that was made for preliminaries, and he was enjoying himself. And the longer he could stretch things out, the longer he could keep her in torment. But that was all right. This was just the first of many, and next time he'd able to eke things out better.
He rolled over her, half covering her body with his. She cried out in fear and panic, knowing that things were about to come to their logical conclusion. Max wedged a heavy leg between her slender thigh, nuzzling it against her pussy. He could feel his prick getting ready to spit out its load, and there just wasn't any holding back now. He pushed his other leg between hers and held his prick in his hand, centering it over her slit.
She was tight, of course, and when his prick touched her cunt he could barely keep from coming all over her. She cried out as he forced his way in. She went all rigid with pain, and her hands tightened on his shoulders reflexively. He caught a short glimpse of her face, twisted and taut, and he could tell that she was in real pain. His cock was only halfway in, and her cherry was one of the tough ones. It hadn't given yet.
With a thrust that was even painful to him, Max forced his way through the membrane. He felt it give, and her body tautened even more. She screamed once, and he was all the way in, all the way to his balls. She opened her legs wider as though trying to relieve the pain, but the reaction that passed over her body made him think it must have had the opposite effect. The friction inside of her must have been painful.
Max felt like lying still on her for a while, just enjoying the connection of their bodies, but he knew he was about to come. If he was going to do any fucking, this was the time to do it. He ground his massive hips into motion, working up and down, thrusting and receding, and Sally began to cry out as his cock moved over the inside of her pussy. Her movements served to make the pleasure in Max's prick all the more intense, and then he was shooting his come into her. He accelerated his movements, pushing and pulling with desperate speed, trying to get as much out of the act as possible. The pleasure was intense, of course, but it was short. He had been too excited going in, and now he spewed his cream into her before he was ready. With a grunt of pleasure he went limp over her, his weight driving her into the bed. His cock was as flaccid as the rest of him.
Gradually, he became aware of her fighting for breath under him, and her body shook with sobs. They were both covered with sweat. Max buried his face in her hair for a moment, then rolled off and sat up.
"So," he said. "Now you're not a virgin any more. Feel any different?" He scratched his belly and stood. He felt drained of desire, and better, more peaceful, than he had expected. It would be better next time, better physically, of course. But this had been a taste of revenge. And even if it was revenge against a girl who had been dead for three-and-a-half years, Sally was enough like her for the revenge to taste sweet.
"Get up," he ordered. "I'm hungry, and I think you women had better start earning your Goddamn keep around here."
She got up slowly, stiff and sore. She looked as though it was an agony to walk, or even move. Max put on his shorts and his pants and walked to the suitcase, still sitting where Sally had left it in the middle of the floor. He opened it and rummaged through, tossing clothing all over, until he found a robe. It was a diaphanous one, thin to the point of sheerness, almost transparent. The sash on it was in two pieces, each piece sewn to one side of the robe at the waist. He was afraid to pull them off because the robe might tear, so he found a pair of manicurist's scissors on the dresser and snipped through them. There was a small button hidden inside the robe, and he yanked that off.
"Here."
She took the robe and shrugged into it, holding it about her body with both hands. It really was translucent. He could see her skin through parts of it, and the patch of brown hair at her pussy showed through clearly. Max grinned. "Now get in the kitchen. I'm coming with you."
As she moved ahead of him, he looked with enjoyment on her ass, flexing and bunching with each step, dimly visible through the sheer material of the robe. She was really something. From his point of view, she was even more attractive than her sister. It had been a stroke of luck, finding this place. A stroke of unbelievable luck. It meant things were going right for them, or at least for him. And it meant that in a day or two, when things began to cool off, and the TV watchers began to forget about the "escaped murderers on the news", he'd be able to move on to his next task. The reason, after all, that he'd made the break in the first place.