The following morning June was awakened by what she thought was the ringing of her old alarm clock at home. God, she felt awful! Her head ached, her mouth was dry and her body felt feverish all over. She must have come down with the flu. She would have to call in sick to the office, and old Mr. Chisolm wouldn't like that one bit. He hadn't been at all pleased when she told him she had to go to New York for a few days…
New York! All the events of the preceding day and night flashed through June's mind, and she sat up so suddenly that the wave of nausea which washed over her made her feel faint. New York! The Bormans! It was all true, she realized, gazing numbly down at the somewhat wrinkled aquamarine comforter which covered her, then around at the spacious room dimly lit by sunlight filtering through the heavy velour curtains. All too true. She had come to the big city, gotten drunk and been seduced by two perfect strangers on the very first day. That must be some kind of an all-time record!
Someone had straightened up the bed covers, she saw. Comforter, blankets, and sheets had all been tangled together the last she remembered them, tangled up like she and Nina and Axel were. God, what had gotten into her? She pressed her wrists into her stinging eyes as if to blackout the debasing images, but to no avail. When finally she opened them again, she noticed a note on the bedside table.
Gone to hairdresser. Back at noon.
They should deliver your suitcase sometime this morning.
Love – Nina
Love! June sniffed self-pityingly to herself. They had the nerve to call that love… that debauch… that orgy they had tricked her into! She had to get out of there before Nina came back. She peered groggily at her wristwatch – the only thing she hadn't taken off last night – and saw that it was already past ten. She never slept that late. They must have drugged her as well as getting her drunk!
Finally June realized that the persistent ringing in her ears wasn't a side product of her awful hangover but a real bell somewhere. Maybe they had brought her suitcase! Then she could get out of the apartment before Nina came back. Quickly, in spite of the agonizing jolts lancing through her head, she jumped out of bed and put on her skirt and blouse which Nina had neatly folded over a chair. At least she hoped it was Nina who had straightened up the room and not some maid. Oh what difference did it make! she scolded herself angrily as she hurried toward the sound of the bell. One stranger or another… Anyway, there must not be anyone else in the apartment or they would have answered the bell. It wasn't the front door, she saw, so there must be a service entrance somewhere. Swiftly in her bare feet she padded through the dining room, a pantry, then a really sumptuous kitchen with every possible labor-saving device in it, and a whole battery of beautifully polished copper pots and pans.
"Who is it?" she called out hesitantly at the back door. Unfortunately there wasn't any peephole to look out through.
"Suitcase for Miss June Wright," replied a high-pitched tenor voice that reminded her vaguely of the bellboy in the old Phillip Morris ad. "Suitcase for Miss June Wright," it repeated on the same note.
"Just leave it there, please," June said. She had read so many stories about what could happen in New York that she was really afraid to open the door… Even though she didn't see how anything worse could possibly happen to her than already had.
"Sorry, Miss, I need a receipt," the nasal voice insisted.
Reluctantly June opened the door and saw a seedy-looking youth in a shabby grey pinstripe suit much too large for him standing there with her suitcase. There was no mistaking that battered old relic from her summer-camp days. Relieved, she opened the door wider, and he pushed brassily past her into the kitchen, pursing his lips in a silent whistle.
"Some set-up ya got here, Miss Wright," he said, looking her insolently up and down from her bare feet to her still disheveled long black hair. "Looks like I got ya out'a bed, huh?"
"That's perfectly all right," June said in a voice that quavered slightly. He wasn't so young after all, she saw now, noticing the lines around his eyes and mouth, and he certainly was a disreputable-looking character. She had taken him for an adolescent at first because he had positively the worst case of acne she had ever seen in her born days. Big pimples… Uhg! "Just give me the receipt and I'll sign it," she added, doing her best to keep the disgust out of her voice.
"The bag wasn't locked so ya gotta verify the contents first," the man said with a half-witted leer. "I might'a stole a bra or a pair of panties or somethin'. Mind if I get myself a drink?"
Thinking he meant a drink of water, June told him to go ahead and bent down to open her suitcase. The sound of a refrigerator door slamming jerked her head up, and she saw that he was holding a lemon and a can of tomato juice in his hands.
"Put that back!" she snapped at him sharply but he just ignored her and strolled into the pantry.
"Ta-ta-ti-ta," he hummed. "Now don't get your bowels in an uproar, babe. You look like you could do with a little hair of the dog yourself. Have a little party last night?" He rummaged around in the pantry a minute, opening and slamming placard doors, and came out with a bottle of vodka. "A couple of Bloody Marys are just what we both need to pick us up."
June decided that the best policy would be to say nothing to provoke him and get rid of him as soon as he had his drink, so she kneeled down again and opened her suitcase. The first thing she saw was a brown manila envelope that certainly didn't belong to her.
"What's this?" she questioned irritably, holding up the envelope. "It's not mine."
"Beats me, babe. I'm new on the job," Pimple Face replied, busying himself with mixing vodka, tomato juice, lemon and Tabasco sauce into two tall glasses. "Maybe some forms you gotta fill out."
June opened the flap of the envelope and saw that there were several large glossy photographs in it. Some deep intuition made her draw them out and look at them… They fell from her stricken hands.
Tiffany!
June's eyes blurred with sudden tears, and she sank back on the floor, fighting desperately for self-control. She felt really ill… as if she were about to vomit. The picture she had glanced at showed a completely naked Tiffany hunched down on her knees and elbows being taken from the rear by some weird creature half-man, half-goat, and the expression on her childish face was one of anguished pleasure. Suddenly all the half-formed suspicions lurking in the back of June's mind crystallized with stark clarity. She had fallen into some kind of hideous diabolical trap set by the Bormans. Everything had been carefully planned from the moment her purse had been snatched… No, even before that. The telegram must have been a fake to lure her to New York. For a moment she teetered on the brink of hysteria, then abruptly she felt icily calm. She would show them she wasn't to be so easily defeated. She was going to get to the bottom of this, and before she was through they would all be in jail – the Bormans and everybody else involved, no matter how much money and influence they might have.
"Hey, that's pretty hot stuff, June baby." Pimple Face had drifted over with the two Bloody Marys and was staring down at the top photograph on the floor. With a scuffed toe of a very down-at-the-heel shoe he pushed it aside so that the second shot was visible. This one showed the same scene from a different angle, and June saw that the penis of whatever it was – a man dressed up – as a satyr, she supposed – was entering Tiffany's rectum instead of her vagina as she had thought at first. Well, that was nothing she hadn't seen already.
She looked up at Pimple Face who held out a Bloody Mary to her. Her first impulse was to take the drink and throw it right in his disgusting face, but she decided on the spot to start her investigation with him. He didn't look too bright, and it was obvious the Bormans had hired him to bring the suitcase. She put her glass on the floor beside her and accused him without warning, "You stole my purse yesterday, didn't you?"
"No, but I know the guy who did," Pimple Face grinned down at her unabashedly. "I was standing right there when he did it. Then I followed you here. Then I went and got your pocketbook from the guy who snatched it. Minus the money, natcherly. That's all he was innerested in, but I figure, somebody lives in a swanky dump like this, maybe there's something else in there worth some dough. I didn't know I was gonna find a gold mine. Little sister Tiffany sure likes her cock, don't she?" he added, pushing another photo into view. This one showed Tiffany sucking an enormous penis with an ecstatic expression on her blissful young face.
June wasn't in the least bit fazed. "I suppose you don't know the Bormans," she said sarcastically.
"Never heard of 'em," Pimple Face assured her nonchalantly.
"Then how did you know which apartment I was in?" June was unable to keep a note of triumph out of her voice.
"The doorman told me." Pimple Face shrugged. "As soon as he saw the suitcase, he asked if it was for Miss June Wright, and I said yes and he told me which apartment. He also told me to use the service elevator, the snotty bastard."
June's spirits sank. It made sense. Of course, Nina would have told the doorman that if someone came with a suitcase to send him up to her apartment. She picked up her drink with a hand that trembled slightly and took a sip. Immediately a warm glow radiated through her body. At least one thing Pimple Face had said was true, a Bloody Mary really did pick you up. She took another, longer swallow.
"Your sister may look like she's having a good time in those photos, but she's in bad trouble, babe!" Pimple Face snarled at her suddenly. "It's gonna cost you plenty to get her out of it."
"I-I don't have any money," June faltered. "I don't live here."
"I know you don't live here," Pimple Face snapped at her. "I read the telegram in your pocketbook. But if you got friends who live in classy dumps like this…"
"They aren't friends, they just know me from where I work. I-I'm a secretary." June stammered confusedly. "How do you know all this about my sister anyway? Where did you get those photographs?"
"Shit, I've seen that chick fucking for applause on the stage a dozen times!" Pimple Face snorted. "I recognized her soon as I saw that snapshot in your pocketbook. One gang runs all the sex shows in this town, babe, and I got plenty connexions, so finding out what the story is was easy. I brought those photos to show I'm on the level. You sure you ain't got any money?" he asked suspiciously, eyeing her over. "Maybe – you really don't. That ain't exactly no Christian Dee-or outfit you got on."
"Sex shows…?" June quavered weakly. "You mean my sister…?"
"Yeah, she acts in 'em, babe," Pimple Face sneered. "She has to, you better believe it. These guys don't fool around. She don't do right, she ends up in a concrete wedding gown on the bottom of the river. If you got money, you can buy 'em off, but if you don't, there's only one way to get her out'a this mess…" He paused sadistically, enjoying the miserable expression on June's face. "Only one way," he repeated. "You take her place!"
"What!" June clutched her glass and took a long swallow of the potent mixture.
"And for my part in the deal," Pimple Face went on, "I guess I'll just have to take it out in trade. Where do ya want me to fuck ya, babe? Up the ass or in the mouth?"
June was so stunned by the news of the predicament Tiffany had gotten herself into that she didn't really take in the last thing the repulsive creature said. It was hard to believe such things could occur in a civilized country in the twentieth century, but she had read that there were still gangs of men who controlled prostitutes and the awful things they did to the girls if they didn't cooperate, so why not with the poor people in these sex shows. God, what had Tiffany gotten into and how was she going to get her out of it?
Abruptly all the resentment and ill feeling she had harbored against her sister ever since she had caught her with Cliff on the porch that afternoon vanished from her heart, and all she felt was pity and loyalty and, of course, responsibility. She had to get Tiffany out of this mess but she couldn't take her place. It just wasn't possible!
Why not? another part of her mind nagged her. You're older and stronger and smarter than your little sister. You might be able to figure a way out of the situation that she never could…
In a flash June saw the solution. Her heart raced and she drained her drink in one long gulp to hide her exultation. She knew what she would do! When she felt sufficiently calm, she looked up at Pimple Face and said in a deliberately subdued and weepy voice, "All right, I'll do it. I'll take her place."
"Okay, babe. Now what about me?" The implacable man fingered his already bulging crotch suggestively. "I don't put you in contact with your sister until I get my commission. So which way do ya want it, kid?" He nodded toward the photographs.
The queasy feeling in June's stomach was so strong she almost gagged, but her mind was made up. She was going to save her baby sister, and nothing was going to stop her… not even THAT! And it certainly wasn't hard to make a choice. With a little quaking tremor deep in her bowels as she remembered how her father's cane had felt up her rectum, she pointed to the picture of Tiffany and the satyr. At least that way she wouldn't have to see the man's horrible pimply face. She just hoped he didn't have some awful disease. She started to leave the kitchen, but he grabbed her around the waist, and she saw that he was already yanking at his belt.
"We don't have to go nowhere, babe. The kitchen floor will do just fine. Just kneel down there and stick that hot little ass up in the air where Big Daddy can get at it." He leered evilly at her, and June noticed with relief that at least he had nice healthy white teeth. In fact if it wasn't for those horrible pimples all over his face he would be quite good-looking. His hand swarmed suddenly up under her skirt to cup one of her buttocks and she could feel his fingers sliding down her anal crack toward her pussy where he teased her pubic hairs which were still caked and crusted with her dried cum juices from last night. She blushed crimson at the memory of the unwanted but extraordinary climax Axel had brought her to. She'd been trying to block it from her mind ever since she woke up, but now it flooded back over her. In spite of herself her breath began to come faster as Pimple Face pushed his hand farther along her cuntal furrow until he found her hot, hardening little clitoris.
"No panties, eh babe?" he whispered in her ear. "I'm sorry ya hadda wait, kid. It feels like there was some action down there last night, but I guess you're ready for more, huh? Try this on for size." She heard the sound of a zipper, then her hand was guided to his hotly throbbing penis which had popped fully erect into the air. When she felt its surprising girth with her long supple fingers, she couldn't help but look down at it, even though she had resolved not to. God, it was long! Maybe not quite as big around as Axel's but probably even longer although this man was nowhere as tall as Borman. Height must not have anything to do with it, she thought distractedly, gazing in morbid fascination down at the bulging purplish head with its rim which flared out from the long hard shaft like the head of an aroused cobra. God, it was going to hurt! It was at least three times as thick as her father's cane which she had carefully vaselined beforehand… and much, much longer than the paltry three or four inches of cane she had managed to ram up herself before the pain stopped her. It didn't seem humanly possible to take that much hard flesh up inside her rectum. She didn't believe he could even get it in!
"Let's get it over with," she muttered thickly, dropping her skirt on the floor. Pimple Face's finger tweaking her clitoris had already started flickers of pleasure in the insatiable little bud, and all she wanted to feel was pain in her martyrdom for her sister. But even as she knelt down on her skirt to save her knees from the hard kitchen tiles and leaned forward on her elbows, she felt a flutter of excitement at the idea of being sodomized in this humiliating position like some scullery maid in times of old. She heard Pimple Face kick off his shoes and pull down his pants. Then he was kneeling behind her.
As Jock – because Pimple Face was Jock, of course, in what he considered one of his better disguises – gazed down at the beautiful white moons of June's unblemished ass-cheeks and at the virginal little anus offered so provocatively up to him, he hoisted a mental toast to Axel's good taste and judgment. His friend had told him that morning over the phone about the events of the night before, but Jock had thought he might be exaggerating June's beauty and the passionateness of her responses. Not so, he now realized. He hadn't missed the undeniable quivers of excitement that shot through her ripe young body when he touched her erect little clitoris nor the speed with which it had doubled in size. No, hell, no, Axel hadn't exaggerated. If anything, his description of the curvaceous raven-haired girl was an understatement.
Just as a sculptor might contemplate a block of virgin marble before attacking it with hammer and chisel, Jock allowed himself another moment of purely esthetic appreciation of June's voluptuous symmetry before he slipped back into the role of Pimple Face, the sadistic delivery man.
"Let's see those tits down there!" he snarled, reaching around June's nakedly offered buttocks to rip her blouse open, sending the buttons flying every which way. Then he began to maul the luscious mounds of resilient flesh like a madman, tweaking and pinching the ruby-red nipples between his fingers until June had to bite her lower lip to keep from whimpering. Not that what he was doing hurt so much, there were little jolts of pleasure too, but it made her feel so helpless to be manhandled that way while she was crouched down in such a passive slavish position. She cambered her back so that her ass-cheeks were tilted up even higher in the air in the hope that it would tempt him to start his nasty business. Sure enough, his hands left her breasts and flew down to her ripely rounded buttocks where one began to knead and mangle the soft flesh around her anus while the other worked its way up between her thighs and parted her sparse pussy hairs until it found the now rapidly moistening entrance to her vagina. His outstretched middle finger was inserted there, then drawn up her sweating anal crevice to swab and lubricate the puckered sphincter ring guarding her rectum. This process was repeated several times, sending little tingles of apprehension scurrying out from the tiny sensitive hole each time. God, if he would only get on with it! She gulped and bucked slightly when she felt the finger finally slip through the tight elastic ring and push up into her fearfully cringing rectal canal where it began to widen the hot spongy flesh sheathing it. It hurt, of course, but not any more than the cane had… and feeling it move up there… just the idea that someone else was doing it to her… telegraphed a message of weird unnatural pleasure to her protesting brain. There was no help for it! Something in the kneeling dark-haired girl enjoyed being debased, whether by herself or someone else – even this repulsive man. More by this repulsive man, she realized, as the reaming motion of his finger in her most secret parts gradually increased the radius of the irritating but tantalizing stimulus she was feeling. She looked back between her ripely swinging breasts and saw his long pulsating penis pointing up toward her tummy with a drop of semen glistening in the slit at the end and his large pendulous balls jiggling beneath it.
She wished she could see him doing it to her!
The obscene grotesque thought flashed through her mind before she could blot it out, and the next thing she knew she was avidly studying the photograph of Tiffany and the satyr which had fallen on the floor not far from her. The detail was so clear she could even see the swollen curve of the sperm canal on the underside of the part of the thick sodomizing penis which was still visible. She wished she could see Pimple Face's expression as he fucked in and out of her tightly puckered anus. Was it one of sadistic goatish delight like the one in the photo?
If only there was a mirror in this place so she could watch herself getting fucked up the ass!
God, she was even beginning to think like a whore. She had never once in her life allowed herself to even think that word, much less speak it. It was buried deep in her mind under a lot of other expressions like make love, sleep together, go to bed together… Fuck, fuck, fuck! In her burning anger at herself she screwed her ass-cheeks savagely back on Pimple Face's finger to let him know she was ready any time he was. Goddamn, fuck, piss, cunt, cock! The words blinked like bright neon lights in the darkness of her degradation.
"Reach back and tickle my balls, babe," Jock ordered roughly, sensing the sudden change in her.
"No! I won't!" she yelled back between her legs in a last-ditch attempt to salvage some of her self-respect. "You can't make me!"
"Oh no?" Jock retorted with a vicious grin. He yanked his finger out of her tight little hole with a loud squelching sound and slapped her naked buttocks as hard as he could. The red prints of his fingers showed up clearly visible on her firm snow-white flesh. He raised his arm to strike again, but she gave a little moan of surrender as if she knew it was useless to resist, and he felt her trembling hand fumbling back toward his cum-filled balls. "And handle them with care, you bitch!" he threatened her grimly. "Or by God, you'll never know what hit you!" Axel had warned him she might show a tendency to get out of hand and take over the show… but not with old Jock, he chuckled to himself. She was going to get a little more than she had bargained for this time! When he got through with her she'd know somebody had paid a visit to her sweet little asshole. Already her long supple fingers were obediently kneading and massaging his balls as if they'd never done anything else, building up a charge of aching desire in his groin. It was time to take the plunge…
Holding her hip fast with his left hand, he guided the lust-swollen head of his impatiently throbbing cock to her now slightly distended little nether hole and leaned into her, steadily increasing his pressure. God, she was tight! Straining as hard as he could, he could only get about half an inch of the tip of his cockhead into the tiny rubbery opening. His iron-hard rod of flesh felt as if it were going to snap in two. Shit, he cursed under his breath, he'd never run into one this tight before. Still maintaining his pressure, he grabbed her other hip with his right hand and jerked her nakedly kneeling backwards, lunging forward simultaneously. With a lewd squirting sound the tormented sphincter muscle suddenly gave way and the huge head of his painfully throbbing cock popped in.
"Aaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhhh! Noooooooo! Stop!" June screamed, flailing and tossing in his talon-like hands while every nerve-end in her body was scorched by the waves of blazing pain that radiated out from her brutally impaled anus. Behind her, Jock grinned sadistically down at her ineffectual efforts to free herself from his thick skewering cock and began to grind slowly forward, pushing the warm elastic walls of her virginal rectum ahead of his lust-swollen cock as it forged relentlessly inward on its ass-splitting voyage. That would teach her to get ideas about who was running this show, he mused to himself, flexing his loins and drilling deeper and deeper up into her futilely clenching anal passage.
"Oh God, stop! Stop! Please. I-I'll do the other!" June gasped piteously, her will to resist completely undermined by the searing spasms of excruciating pain that continued to rack her helpless body each additional fraction of an inch he bored into her. She really was ready to take his loathsome penis in her mouth. The idea was unbelievably disgusting, but at least it couldn't be the hellish torture this was. Anything to put an end to this!
"Whaddaya mean, you'll do the other, babe?" Jock taunted her sarcastically. "What other? Tell Daddy what's on your mind, kid."
"I-I'll… suck your cock," June panted desperately, knowing quite well that he would continue to bait her until she spoke the vile words.
"With the greatest of pleasure, honey," Jock sniggered. "As soon as we're finished what we're doing now."
He gave one last bone-crushing lunge, and June felt the wiry pubic hairs at the base of his buried cock prickle against the widespread cheeks of her behind. God, he had done it! He had stuck every inch of his long hard cock up her defenseless little rectum and still there was no slackening of the bodily pain which was heightened now by a sense of anguished humiliation. She felt that her will had been broken and the last shred of decency stripped from her when she offered to suck the awful man's cock… She was drowning in a seething sea of mental and physical agony. All the sexual acts she had committed since that afternoon when she had stood in the parlor and watched… instead of immediately separating Cliff and Tiffany… passed in a blur through her mind. All the lonely masturbation in the office and at home culminating in her cynical seduction by Nina and Axel last night… and now this, the final ignominy… to be sodomized on a kitchen floor by a miserably pimply-faced delivery man.
It was almost more than her mind could bear, and only the thought that she was doing it for her sister Tiffany gave her the strength to go on.
When she felt the long hard penis being slowly withdrawn from her back passage, she braced herself for the new assault she knew was sure to come and bit her lip until she tasted her own warm salty blood, determined not to show any further signs of weakness.
"Uuuuunnnnnhhhhh…!" The breath was driven from her lungs by the force of the next pile-driving lunge of the heatedly pulsating cock up her helpless rectum and the impact of Jock's pelvis against her flattened ass-cheeks, but she shook her heavy mane of black hair and held her ground like a stubborn horse. He began to fuck rhythmically in and out of her with slow labored strokes at first, then more and more rapidly as her forever-stretched nether channel gradually opened up. Soon he was pistoning smoothly in and out like a well-oiled machine, spearing far up into her bowels with each in-thrust and withdrawing his thick rigid cock until only the head was still embedded beyond the snugly clinging sphincter ring.
Then, miracle of miracles, June gradually felt the searing pain in her anal channel begin to diminish and the first feeble flickers of a strange novel sensation… Not pleasure exactly… It couldn't be pleasure! But it was. A weird shameful masochistic kind of pleasure still mixed with bodily pain and the humiliation of having her body used in this obscene filthy fashion. Yes, God, she was enjoying it! With that admission the last of her self-control vanished and she began to hump her brutally impaled ass-cheeks back on the skewering cock as if her life depended on getting every last bit of it inside her.
"Fuck harder, Cliff. Haaaaarrrrdddderrrrr!" The words… the same ones she had heard Tiffany use on the porch… spewed unbidden from her lips as she gave herself up completely to this new perverted joy of being abused and defiled like the lowest of whores. God, she wanted it to go on forever, but already she sensed the explosive charge building in the heavy sperm-bloated balls that were swinging wildly between her thighs as Jock plowed urgently in and out of her forever-stretched anus. It wouldn't be long for him, she could tell and, surprisingly, she felt her own mounting response. She screwed her eyes tight shut and squirmed madly back on the long plunging cock, milking it insatiably with a tight clenching of her buttock muscles on each out-stroke. She felt as if she was lost in a kind of incandescent haze which emanated from her own pleasure-crazed body… alone in a primeval void with nothing but that great wonderful demon cock rampaging into her entrails and ravishing her very soul.
"Keeeee-riiiiissssstttttt…!" Jock groaned and June felt the first pelting jets of his heated sperm spatter far up in her voracious belly, then she was spiraling deliriously in her own nebulous haze of ecstatic release, soaring into a new, never-before-experienced dimension of pleasure away from the hard kitchen floor where her voluptuously curved body tossed and thrashed like some wild animal caught in a net.
"I'm cumming," she crooned, "I'm cumming." Then her voice was a low banshee wail, "I'm cummmming!"
Delicious tremors continued to rack her body long after Jock pumped the last of his spurting hot cum into her churning rectum and for the second time since her arrival in New York, the overwhelming potency of her mind-blowing orgasm drifted her off into dreamless sleep.
When June came to, Pimple Face was prodding her buttocks with the much-darned toe of a gaudy orange sock.
"Wake up!" he ordered excitedly. "We ain't got no time to lose if you wanna suck my cock before we go where they're holding your sister at."
June stared dully up at him. He was standing there with the tails of his rather soiled shirt hanging down on either side of his limp dangling cock which was still red and glistening from its recent rape of her anus. She realized he hadn't even bothered to take off his necktie, and for some reason that made what he had done to her seem all the worse. "Do I have to?" she asked apathetically, certain, of course, that he would say yes. She wondered if he would at least wash the revolting thing before she had to take it into her mouth… Strangely enough he surprised her by saying no.
"There really ain't enough time, kid. We'll take a rain check on it, okay? I know ya can't wait to blow me, but there'll be other days. Now get a move on. Put on something clean…" He nodded toward her suitcase.
"Can I take a shower?" June asked forlornly, knowing that never in her whole life would she be able to wash away the knowledge of how she had responded to his sadistic sodomizing. It seemed that apparently there was nothing she wasn't capable of…
"No time to shower!" Pimple Face snapped, starting to pull on his pants. "When these people say be there at twelve noon, you get there at twelve noon. You better believe it, baby," he added menacingly.
"How do I know they'll really let my sister go?" June asked stubbornly.
"You don't!" he answered curtly. "You'll just have to trust them."
"Trust them!" June echoed bitterly.
"Well, you ain't got no choice, babe," Pimple Face pointed out, bending down to pull on his scruffy shoes.