Pal was lying across her bed, miserable and full of loathing for herself and for Paul Harshman.
He had used pain to tear down barriers that she thought should never have been disturbed. She hadn't even known that they existed, much less suspected the animal lust which had lurked behind them. By forcing down these barriers, he had revealed to her the slut that she really was in her subconscious mind. Or so it seemed to her now, as she lay there.
There was nothing to do but think. Paul wanted no books or other diversions to relieve the monotonous boredom of her solitary confinement. And when she had nothing but her own thoughts, she kept coming back to the same ones, over and over. And by constantly dwelling on her humiliation, her degraded actions with Paul – and now, even with Betty – she could feel only shame for what she had become. She wished that he had killed her. Then it would be over.
As she lay there, belly down on the wrinkled sheets, her eyes followed the unusual pattern on the floor. She could see the small metal studs in the flooring, and knew that these somehow conducted the current which made her a prisoner on the bed, denying her even the freedom to move about this small room.
She knew it was a deliberate psychological pressure. By confining her to the small world of the bed except when she ate or bathed or answered the call of nature, she was kept in an unending state of boredom. Thus it was easier to force her across the fallen barriers into the only world where there was relief from boredom.
She damned herself for her weakness, and the tears rolled from her eyes onto the sheet as she tried to think of a method she could use to strengthen her resistance. If she could just hypnotize herself into fighting Paul's authority, maybe get him angle enough, he might beat her to death, and her worries would be all behind her.
But even as she thought of it, she knew she couldn't do it. It would take more guts than she had. Fear and pain, and then the knowledge of her shameful bitch-in-heat passion and its betrayal of the Pal she had thought she knew all these years all combined to tear the guts out of her, leaving her almost a puppet for Paul's effortless control.
She sat up with a determined motion. It was suddenly very important to concentrate on thinking up a method of escape. She had just remembered that – with all the other degradations and humiliations – she yet had her virginity. But Paul might put an end to that at any time.
She ran her hands over her body. It was still silky smooth and unblemished, despite the tweaks and bites of her captor, and the hot agonizing strokes of his lash. She felt her left nipple gingerly. It was still extra-sensitive from the punishment Paul's fingers and nails had exerted on it.
She moved her hand up and ran her fingers lightly over the less tender area of her shoulder. She could still detect the fine line of the healing lash-cut, but she was sure it would not leave a scar.
When she realized that she was concerned over her appearance, it gave her a small lift. She must be hanging on to some shreds of hope if she could care about how she might look in the future.
She wondered if that tiny hope remained because she still had her maidenhood. Orphaned early in life, she had been through many unhappy experiences. It had seemed as if every time she had something she treasured, it was taken from her. First her parents; then the pet terrier that they wouldn't permit her to take into the orphanage. Then Sue Ann, the only playmate she cared about, was adopted, and she was more alone than ever.
With Sue Ann gone, she kept to herself for months. When the new boy, Terence Patrick Monahan, turned out to be a loner, too, they began to notice each other and gradually came to be close friends. It helped her a lot at a time when she felt she had nothing left.
When the twelve-year-old Terry had been made responsible for the greenhouse at the orphanage, due to his precocious knowledge and talent with growing things, Pal had sneaked into the glass palace to keep him company on many occasions, risking severe punishment to share a few minutes with her only friend.
On her twelfth birthday, when she sneaked in for one of their chats, he had been despondent because he was unable to give her a gift. When his bitter tears welled up, and she instinctively embraced him, they had discovered some new emotions and sensations. Before they knew quite what was going on, or why, Terry was planting warm, wet kisses on her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, her bare shoulders and, by pulling at the straps of her sunsuit – a garment which was less than adequate for her early-budding ripeness the soft-hard swellings of her breasts.
They were equally surprised when the central pinkness of one maiden mound blossomed forth to raise a spongy erection under Terry's lips. But he wasn't too surprised to seize it and kiss and suck its tender springiness until it made a freight train roar down her body and jam itself in the tight tunnel of her crotch.
Frightened, she had pulled her breast away from him, and he had looked so eagerly into her eyes, still wanting to show his affection in some very demonstrative manner, that she was sorry she had withdrawn from his kisses. But the shock of the strange emotions in her changing young body had been a fearful thing, and she was reluctant to let it go on.
But when Terry made his next attempt to please her, she gave in without hesitation.
"Oh, Pal!" he said, somehow aware in his youthful wisdom of her fears. "I won't do anything to you that's not right. I only want to show you somehow that you're… that… I mean I want to do something to show how I feel about you."
The precocity of his honest mind and the purity of his intent led him to an unbelievably brilliant, though dangerous, move. But the genuine love that gave his speech sincerity was also great enough to see him through the crisis it created.
"I wouldn't want to do anything to spoil your future, Pal. And anyway, I don't think it's right to… you know… to do what you do when you're married… unless you are married. But I so want to show you how I worship you, Pal… please let me do what I can, and I promise you I won't get you into any trouble."
She could only sit there on the smooth pebbles of the path that ran down the aisle of the greenhouse, and look at him with her china-blue eyes opened wide, then close them, and wet her lips as he leaned closer to her.
When his kiss was too long in reaching her lips or breast, she started to open her eyes again. At that moment, she felt his lips on her knee, and he kissed her with wet warmth all over the knees, the thighs, and the little patch of belly that gleamed through the clever latticework of her sunsuit.
Then he returned to her thighs, and those lean but rounded pillars of girl-flesh, excitingly substantial, but not large enough to fill the leg-opening of the hand-me-down garment, became covered with his kissings, lickings and suckings.
His tongue slipped under the hem at the crotch, and she felt the hot searching of his adoring tongue creep along the newly appeared silken feathers which covered her creamy private mound. When the warm tip traveled the full length of her tight slit, she had unaccountably spread her legs and accepted his tribute with a rising hot passion that began to consume her.
When she felt the juices flowing from her, she thought it was Terry's saliva, and blessed it as an anointment of his eager adoration. Her hips moved of themselves, bringing her swollen mound of sex up to meet his hungry mouth. Her slit was now parted by Terry's fingers, which had slipped up to hold aside the interfering fabric, then remained to open her virgin blossom for his tribute.
A high-voltage orgasm tore through her – her very first. It frightened her for a split-second, but the feeling was so ecstatically voluptuous that she abandoned herself to whatever might follow.
Then she realized that Terry was sucking at her passage, and he stopped briefly, lifting his mouth clear long enough to whisper something that started her on her next climb to the clouds.
"Pal, you dear! I just wanted to make you feel worshipped, but that sweetness pouring out of you… it's a gift from your dear body just for me! Thank you, Pal… I love you so much!" Then he was back at her tender pussy, eating and drinking at her virginal cunt until she again was completed – this time with even greater force.
Terry withdrew from her and sat in the gravel, gasping for air. Pal forced herself to sit up and face him. She was surprised to find that she felt no embarrassment. Terry's green eyes looked his adoration at her, and he wore a wishful smile, as if begging her to tell him that she had fully appreciated his worship.
"Oh, Terry! You do love me very much. And I love you, too!" She embraced him, hugging him so tightly that the metal button on one of his overall straps made a fierce ache in her tender breast. "Terry, my darling! Can we hope to get married some day – when we get away from here?"
She felt the tears on her cheek for several seconds before she realized they were Terry's. She drew back and watched as more of them welled up and ran down his face. And he told her that he had been adopted. That they were coming for him the next day.
"Oh, Terry! I can't lose you, now!" she wailed softly. Then she moved as if someone else was controlling her actions. To her amazement, she found that she was pulling his straps down over his shoulders, sliding the overalls down over his hips, then entering his undergarment opening with searching fingers.
When her head plunged to his lap, she had the rigid young shaft of his manhood awaiting her lips. She kissed it while the tears from her own eyes bathed his clothing.
There was no deliberation or awareness as she took the warm flesh into her mouth and worked at it hungrily. There was only the sudden surprise as what she thought to be a rather large and dear thing became pulsingly larger, and then a surging, splashing flow of hot fluid was filling her mouth.
It was Terry's gift to her, and she swallowed it gratefully, until this hurtful maiden flow of the boy made him too tender for her to continue.
"That was… your birth… day gift to… me, Terry," she panted. And as he watched her lick the solitary thread of white stickiness from her lips, his heart filled to overflowing.
He embraced her firmly, and then kissed her with fierce tenderness.
"I'll find you again, Pal," he promised. "No matter where they take me or where you go, I'll find you."
"Yes, Terry," she agreed, sobbing. "And I'll stay a virgin until you come for me. I belong to you now, Terry, and you belong to me."
Their childhood affection and faith were strong medicines. Pal needed something strong to help her get through the days and months and years after Terry left.
And it must have been that promise that made her stubbornly remain a virgin all these years. She still hoped that Terry would find her, and…
"Oh, my God! I'm not fit for Terry now! After the things I've done. How could he forgive me?"
She cried herself to sleep.