Madeleine could not sleep. She lay restless in the large bed of their expensive Ville de Hampstead apartment, waiting for Antoine to join her. He had wanted a nightcap, but she had been too upset and had gone straight to bed. Now, she could hear the soft music from the tape-deck and visualized him sitting in his favorite chair with his feet up on the ottoman, comfortably stretched out and leisurely enjoying a scotch… entertaining no idea in this world of the abhorrent secret she must now live with.
Her brain whirled in her still-shamed, utter debasement. Again, she had failed this proud young man she loved so much, and this time, there could be no forgiveness. If only she had told him of Igat in the beginning, bared her soul to him… made a clean breast of it. He'd loved her… would probably have understood, but now… it was too late. Dear God, how could she tell him now without laying the whole sordid story before him… yes, even the way Uncle Gaston had forced his salacious attentions on her? She couldn't, not without revealing the whole despicable truth. Yet, if she didn't turn to her Antoine for help, where could she go?
There had been time to think since leaving the party, and once out of Larreau's horrible, dominating presence, Madeleine realized she could not keep their wicked appointment the next day; she just couldn't give herself to that foul beast… yet, if she didn't, he had threatened to bring harm to both Igat and herself. She didn't care about herself… but her baby… her baby meant more than anything in the whole world.
Dear Antoine… Antoine… please come and help me? I need you so badly. Help me tell you my dreaded secret this very night… Be understanding… forgiving… and take us away from here before some terrible thing happens to all of us through that evil man.
Quietly, Madeleine prayed for guidance and strength while she awaited the moment Antoine would join her. She must tell him about Igat… she must! Perhaps she should hold back the horrid secret of Uncle Gaston's outrageous act, for to tell Antoine that would only serve to rile the troubled waters even more so. Certainly, it could serve no other purpose than to arouse hatred… even vengeance of some nature, and God knows, she didn't want to strain their relationship any more than it was at this time, when they were yet to truly know each other, in love.
Once more, she began to toss restlessly on the bed. Why didn't he come now? At this moment she felt certain she could tell everything from the very beginning and make him realize. Yes, she would even tell him about M. Keel, the first iniquitous brute to bring her heartbreak. It was the only way… recount it all in full… everything and pray to God that he would try to understand.
Now, as she waited, her mind began to fill with unwanted memories, and she recalled how she had run away in the night from Mont Du Bane, the small fishing village of her birth on the Peninsule De Gaspe, escaping, she had felt, with the American named Keel, a salesman who passed that way twice a year to sell goods to M. Bidette le Garde-Magasin.
Four years ago, she remembered, but the bitter reveries were as vivid in her mind as if they had taken place yesterday. She had been sixteen, nearly seventeen, the fourth of nine children and by far the prettier of her three sisters, she knew. She recalled that even at twelve, when she had begun to develop her pubescent charms, the opposite sex had always been strongly attracted to her, especially the older men, and she had been pleased, taking pride in her long black hair and the hygiene of her teeth, realizing that if she were ever to be liberated from the destined weary bondage of becoming a fisherman's wife, these were the assets upon which she would have to trade.
The day she had met the American she was physically ripe, a sensually alluring young woman, while he was somewhere in his aging fifties. She had only to smile at him coquettishly to see his small eyes come alive with lecherous excitement, and as she tripped provocatively from M. Bidette's store she felt certain he would follow.
It was difficult to remember all the little lurid details now, even, difficult to recall his features… only a faceless, grey-haired, fat man… taller and bigger than Uncle Gaston in every respect, but certainly his parallel in villainy, she realized now. And how upset she'd been at first when she decided that he wasn't going to follow her, but by the time she'd reached the edge of the village he had come along in his car and offered her a ride.
She hadn't hesitated; instead, she'd climbed in and began an immediate conversation. He spoke French, which had made it that much easier for her to play the flirt with him, and when he'd reached over placing his big, heavy, hair-covered hand on her knee she had pretended at being excitedly flustered, while in truth her flesh had recoiled at his touch and she'd winced repugnantly within her flat little belly.
"N-Not here… not here," she'd insisted, catching at his hand and noticing the obscene bulge to the front of his trousers where his pumpkinlike stomach adjoined his groin. "There's no place here where we won't be seen…"
"Where, then?" he'd rasped, his licentious, bloodshot eyes raking her young curvaceous body hungrily.
"There's no safe place around here," she'd answered him quickly. "And if we were caught my father would kill you…"
Suddenly, he'd pulled off to the side of the dirtroad, his arms enveloping her and his thick lips engulfing hers, wetly, voraciously, sucking her small mouth into his own like a vacuum cleaner. She'd tried to struggle, but his surprise lunge had caused a frightened wave of dizziness to overwhelm her and momentarily she'd thought she would faint. He'd held her so tight that the breath had rushed out of her, and even now she could not remember whether he was deceivingly strong, or she unexplainably weak. His tongue had burst into her mouth like a slimy, wet eel, exploring, brushing obscenely around the inside. She had been nearly overcome with his odor of sweat and cologne, and his massive anomalous body easily subdued her own.
"No, no, no!" she'd insisted. "Let me go… Later! Later!"
She'd fought him furiously, until at last, he'd seemed to regain control of himself and listen.
"What… later? What'd you mean?" he grunted, breathing heavily into her face.
She had bit at her lower lip. "I want you to take me away with you."
He'd stared at her. "Away with me…?"
"Yes. I want to go to Boston. If you'll take me with you… then… then I'll let you… do things to me."
He had continued to gape at her, his hungry, red-rimmed eyes growing more gluttonous with lust at each passing second. "All right… all right, tonight. We'll go tonight," he'd said, perspiration dribbling down his heavy jowls. "Yes, by God… tonight!"
She would have done anything to get away from the decaying hovel of her parents, the absurd poverty of the village, and the inevitable arranged marriage to come. God, she remembered, she had only to look upon the drudge who was her mother, a woman unbelievably aged beyond her thirty-five years to find justification in the way she had run off.
Keel had told her he was not married; she hadn't believed him. Anyway, that had been unimportant; all that mattered was getting to Boston where she could meet a nice American boy and marry him. How many nights she'd dreamed such fantasies… a pretty little house with flowers around it, an automobile of their own, and perhaps one, two, even three babies, depending, of course, upon what her husband would want; and a wardrobe of three or four plain dresses, with as many beautiful ones for best… for this was the way with American husbands, she'd been certain, having seen the pictures and read of their love and generosity in the old copies of magazines Docteur Laprise kept in his waiting room.
So, she'd left the note to her mother, saying little except that she was sorry, and that one day she would return to make them all proud of her… and Grace a Dieu for M. Keel, for she wanted her parents to believe that he was a noble man doing this for her out of the goodness of his heart.
A noble man… indeed… Yet, at first, he'd been extremely kind, performing all the simple things to please her, taking her into restaurants where they were served hot-beef sandwiches after the soup-of-the-day, then little pastries for dessert. She had never known such luxury, and before the first day was over she had convinced herself that she'd misjudged him, and vowed not to show the slightest sign of offense when he put his big hand on her thigh outside her dress as they drove along, or when he playfully squeezed and fondled her firm young breasts at every opportunity… but she shortly had learned that her first opinion was very much correct. M. Keel was a vile brute!
However, she recalled now, that before ever realizing the extent of his evilness, she'd convinced herself to willingly carry out her part of their bargain. A girl had to be prepared to pay a price for such an extravagant life as she sought… an American husband… living in the States… and all of the little luxuries that were actually considered necessities in that great country… besides, it was not as if she had never known Jean Louis Blanchette, son of the avocat who had lived upon the hill and who was betrothed to Docteur Laprise's daughter, Francine. Jean Louis had punched away her virginity with his stubby little penis, and together they had discovered many exciting things in the ways of love, but with him it had been so titillating and romantic, while Keel had made her nausee even with the numbing of the wine…
He had registered them into a seedy motel at Riviere du Loup even before the sun had set… had bought wine and poured into the cloudy tumblers that set in a tray on the scarred bureau before removing his coat. Then, he'd smiled and said: "Take off your things, my dear. This is home."
She'd made a tight little smile of her own in response and removed her coat obediently while he took it to hang in the open closet. He ogled her then, in the ruffled and ribboned pink-gingham dress her mother had made for her, licking at his lips, the gentleness she had seen earlier abruptly gone from his eyes, leaving only exigent lust which had added even more ugliness to his carnal face.
At that moment she had wanted to get away from him, at least temporarily, and she'd walked past him toward the tiny bathroom. He came up behind her before she could reach the door, putting both hands on her firm, young buttocks. She'd frozen, sucking in a short breath.
"Lovely," he'd murmured. "You're a lovely piece, baby." His hands had moved over her bottom and hips, around to her belly and upward to cup her lush, erect breasts. He pulled her back against him until she could feel the flab of his stomach and the hardness of his shaft grinding into the crevice between her round, full buttocks. She steeled herself, not resisting, until finally he'd let free of her, stepping back away. "Well… go ahead and piddle. Then we'll have a little drinkie before we… ah… tumble into bed, eh?"
Laying there in the semi-darkness, Madeleine felt a slight tremor ripple over her as it had at his offensive, intimate touch all those years before, and graphically she began to recall even the most odious minute details… it was almost as if she could feel his depraved hands on her at that moment…
She stood there, subjected to his coarse explorations, his suggestive words racing wildly through her brain and she trembled, a convulsive shudder traversing the length of her soft, young body, from the tips of her toes to the very peak of her scalp. She looked toward the sagging bed, swallowing with difficulty. There was no longer any dubious mystery in her mind of what was to come… no overshadowing ambiguity. Upon this bed it would happen to her, and she would be forced to endure his obese loathsomeness. Abruptly, the rays of the setting sun caught her eyes through the window and the thought of escape briefly rushed to mind… but she fought it and went on into the bathroom. She must get to Boston.
When she returned, he held forth her glass of wine and she took it.
"You drink wine at home, eh?" He grinned. "You Canucks like your wine… I know about that."
Madeleine didn't answer him. The fact was, they were allowed only small amounts with meals, but she saw no reason to tell him this… or anything. She took a long swallow, hoping its effect would be to soothe, even dull her senses for what was to come.
"Go ahead, drink up," Keel said. "Have all you want: it's good for you." She watched his grin twist crookedly. "Makes you sexy, too… and we want that, don't we, baby?"
Madeleine felt her face flushing. She watched him gulp away his entire glassful, then tilted her own to her lips. He nodded approvingly and filled the tumblers once more; then, as she stared half-fascinated, he began removing his clothes as if the act was completely divorced from her.
He turned to her suddenly. "Well…? Want me to strip you, myself?"
She hadn't stopped trembling, but she managed to shake her head, set down her wine and unfasten the snaps behind at her neck, then, firming her lips determinedly, wriggled the dress from her shoulders, down over her full, rounded young hips and stepped out of it. Immediately, she sensed his eyes greedily feeding upon her but she dare not look at him lest she break in a mad flight for the door. Instead, she automatically lifted her slip over her head, picked up her dress and laid them over the one chair in the room. She felt embarrassingly naked before him, even though she was still strategically covered with her panties, garter belt, bra and the only pair of nylons she had ever owned.
The wine took its initial effect then, producing a wave of light-headedness. She glanced at Keel; he was naked, removing his socks. His body was as massive and gross as his face, his jaundice-hued flesh sagging and wet with perspiration, causing him to glisten before her. Then, she saw it… his thick penis… rigid and standing out from beneath the hanging bulk of his flabby belly, surrounded by a heavy growth of greying pubic hair. Once more, she trembled in revulsion as she stared at him, the thought of his fat body upon her own sending waves of fear and abhorrence through her. The mere thought…! My God! She couldn't do it! She simply couldn't!
Keel arose and faced her. His mouth had fallen open with a certain slackness, his lecherous eyes seeming to bug as he gaped wildly at her long, nylon-encased legs, the area of cream-white thigh above, the full, firm breasts causing delicious dunes of smooth, satin flesh above their tight cup-shaped enclosures, the area of milk-white midriff, the long sensuous contour of her hips… Madeleine's eyes widened in shocked disbelief as he broke into a slow, salacious leer and his hand moved downward and began to lewdly stroke the heavy uncircumcised foreskin of his massive shaft back and forth over its hard, blood-filled head.
"Ever see anything like that, baby?" he taunted in vulgar pride. "Can you imagine how nice it's going to feel when I shove it up into that tight little hole of yours…?"
The depraved spectacle coupled with lascivious words nauseated her and she gasped at him: "I can't! My God, I can't, M'sieu'! I just can't do it…!"
He continued to stare at her, his stiff, fleshy rod in his hand, his red-saucered eyes narrowing dangerously. "What the hell do you mean?" he half-growled at her. "Forgetting our bargain, ain't you, baby?"
Madeleine took a step backwards and he moved toward her, his eyes suddenly seeming vacant of anything human… only lust, evil, cruel and unyielding.
"N-No… please, M'sieu' Keel?" she stammered in accented English. "Please… I can't do it… I mean it…! I-I thought I could, but I can't. Listen… I'll leave… catch the bus back to Mont Du Banc…"
"The fuck you will, baby. That li'l pussy of yours is mine tonight!" he spat at her, his hands reaching out and clutching her to him, his mouth coming down savagely upon her own as he had done the day before in his car, thick, wet tongue bursting between her lips furiously.
Madeleine struggled but he easily pressed her with him toward the bed. It was almost as if they were one individual, his great body seeming to move with her, rather than opposing her frantic efforts, leaving her nothing absolute to fight against. A frenzied panic seized at her belly and she felt herself beginning to tremble uncontrollably; the room carrouseled before her and all of a sudden she was staring upward at the ceiling… and it was coming down to meet her, his wicked, lust-filled eyes joining it fiendishly. She fought him, turning her face away, her strength quickly ebbing in futile desperation. His tremendous weight poured over her amorphously and her remaining clothes were being stripped away, while the huge, shapeless bulk crushing the breath from her emitted strange animal-like noises, until at last, she was completely naked.
He raised up off her then, having securely wedged himself between her forced-apart thighs and she saw him kneeling erect, his face twisted in a lewd, almost brutal grin. He said something that didn't register in her fear-stricken brain, as her eyes trailed down his repulsive torso to the ugly, long, thick penis jutting forth angrily from his hair-covered loins. She saw the heavy, wrinkled sac hanging beneath it and further repugnance gripped at her belly.
"Now… I'm going to fuck the livin' shit out of you, baby… just the way you led me to believe you wanted it," he hissed down at her.
Madeleine couldn't speak… could barely breathe in her horror and shame; instead, she gaped up at him, too awe stricken to cry, engulfed suddenly by an overpowering sense of miserable degradation, the sight of her own naked young body spread obscenely beneath him filling her with a debasement that would live with her forever, and the helplessness of her situation screamed in her wine-fogged mind as she realized he was actually enjoying this wicked defilement he was subjecting her helpless body to, the cruel gleam ever-growing in his eyes bordering on sadism.
Until that moment, she had given no thought to the physical aspects of the coupling itself, but now a new, and acute, sense of terror came alive as she watched him on his knees before her, once more stroking himself. Her eyes locked on the fleshy instrument he was holding in his big hand. Its thickness was beyond belief. The size of a man's organ had never occurred to her before in her young life; there had been no reason for any such forbidden concern… but suddenly the realization of her own small size in comparison to his huge thing struck her. Dear God! It would split her apart… tear her horribly! She could never take that inside her, she knew… she'd examined herself that close before…!
"Does it frighten you, baby?" he leered at her, continuing to fondle and massage the vile looking blunt spear of rigid flesh, working the heavy outer layer of skin to-and-fro, exposing its smooth, bulbous head, only to sheath it once more, then repeat the lewd act. "Well, don't let it… 'cause this cock's going to bring you more pleasure than you've ever had in your life, eh?"
He went on tormenting her, gloatingly watching the distressed expressions of fear contorting her beautiful young face, and at last Madeleine felt the hot tears dribbling down the sides of her cheeks as she realized that there was no mercy to appeal to in this man… and dear God, she had brought it all upon herself. She hardly heard his filthy utterances anymore; at first, his foul use of all those vile four-letter words that she had barely, if ever heard spoken in forbidden whispers or dirty little stories from girls her own age, had near-sickened her, but now her mind was too occupied with the hopelessness of her position and the horrifying terror of knowing there was no escape for her… he was going to ravish her defenseless, near-chaste body no matter how she pleaded with him not to. God Almighty, there was nowhere to turn… she was alone and completely at his mercy…!
She rolled her head away from him and her heart pounded in her chest as she lay too petrified to move, her soft white thighs wide under him, her pink, thin vaginal slit fringed so lightly with its soft, raven hair, delicately splitting the pouting flanges of her completely exposed crotch that was helplessly available to his slightest whim. Her belly quaked in her fear, as though he had already forced the long, thick penis jutting out from his aged, hairy loins into the painful depths of her. The mere thought again sent a tremor of sheer horror to register in her brain, not only for the unforgivable sin itself, but from the agonizing, anticipated suffering the inhuman organ was bound to cause her.
She lay seemingly rooted to the mattress beneath, her shame and humiliation complete, as she watched in frozen trepidation the slow, decisive movements of his hands toward her vulnerable genitals; he placed his thumbs to rest on the soft, fleshy lips of her pussy and torturously drew them apart, laying open her moist, coral flesh to his lust-inflamed eyes. Slowly, he lowered his head as if to view the naked, delectable site more closely, and breathlessly she watched as his lecherous eyes drank of it greedily for a long moment, its almost virginal beauty delighting him, until he could seemingly no longer endure the abstinence and he dropped his head, thrusting the full length of his wet, salacious tongue deep into the quivering warm depths of her tight young vagina.
Madeleine's body responded of its own volition, jerking with convulsive lurches, a loud groan emitting from her throat as her buttocks ground downward in an effort to escape the bestial outrage he was committing upon her defenseless young womanhood. Her stomach churned in veritable repulsion and she wailed aloud loathsomely as his tongue slithered in and out of her unwanting, cuntal opening.
"Oooooohhhh… my… my God! Wh-What…? Oooohhh, stop… stop it!" she groaned in shocked humiliation, her head raising to shake negatively as down through her breasts she watched his violent assault on her naked vagina. It couldn't be true! It wasn't happening to her, she thought while his tongue raced up into her unreceptive, yet rapidly dilating cuntal walls. "Oooohhh, dear God… please stop, M'sieu'?" she begged in her shame as unwanted, and never before, twinges of lurid pleasure immediately began to permeate her entire body from his depraved animalistic tonguing of her moist, quivering slit.
And he did, all of a sudden, raising up to again grin lewdly down at her, his lips wet from his own saliva mixed with the viscid secretion from her pussy, and as she stared he ran his thick tongue over his lips and said: "Christ… nectar from the Gods could never taste like that delicious little cunt, baby. I'm going to have to eat more of that… but it can wait…"
And then he moved up further over her, lowering his evil face slowly with parting lips until he sucked a ruby, hard nipple between them, his mouth spreading to encompass even a generous portion of the proud, white firm flesh, and abruptly she felt his teeth sink into it cruelly. She groaned aloud with the pain and tried to push his big face away, but he held her tight while his hands taunted the softness of her thighs, hips and buttocks, until in despair, she relaxed her struggles in helpless subservience.
He raised up from her erect, firm breast and leered down. "You understand now, don't you, baby? You're going to get fucked, just the way you wanted it." He chuckled lewdly. "Take me to Boston, you said, and I'll let you. All right, to Boston we go… but first we fuck and suck, right…? Well? Answer me… right?"
"Oh… Oh please, M'sieu'… I was wrong… I didn't know… Don't do anymore to me… I'll go away… never tell anyone, I swear…"
"You'll swear, eh?" Once more, he laughed with licentious cruelty. "You Goddamned frogs… you get me, you know what?" His ugly face contorted fiercely. "Spread those thighs, kid… wider… wider! Yeah… that's better… now, just hold onto your skull, sweetheart, 'cause daddy's about to fuck the livin' hell out of you…!"
Madeleine's breath lodged in her throat, as above her she read his leer of triumph, and she whined aloud in pure fear… at the same time helplessly answering his command to spread her legs obscenely apart. He rested up over her, his arms, two giant pillars on either side of her shoulders; she then saw one move away as its hand disappeared down between them; she whimpered as the thick rubbery head of his huge cock parted the sensitive, fleshy lips of her tight, hardly-adult pussy. Again, she rolled her head to one side and then the other, clutching her eyes tightly shut even as a tremor fluttered through her at the sudden, galvanic tangency of its insinuation inside the hair-lined flanges of the slit he had lubricated with his salaciously licking tongue. Her breath, she still held wadded in her throat as she lay beneath him in total defeat, fearing to release it in her anxiety.
He eased his heavy hips downward and forward with a gentleness she never would have expected of him, yet, even so, the first actual contact with the tiny mouth of her vagina caused her to wince and cringe with a loud moan.
"Oh God, NO!" she cried as the huge head pressured tightly against the pink, snug elastic opening between her widespread thighs.
Once more.
"Aaaaaauuuggghhh," she grunted, as suddenly the tip slipped inside just beyond its coronal rim and she really sensed the first cruel stretching of the taut, rubbery opening in her crotch. My God… with Jean Louis it had been nothing like this… even the first time! It was as she had feared! Her thighs were splitting apart from the continuing, expanding pressures! He was going to rip her open… tear her completely apart… maybe, even leave her to bleed to death between her legs once he was finished with her…!
He flicked his hips once more and she screamed at him. "Ohhhh… Mon Dieu! No… No! You're killing me, M'sieu'! I'll bleed to death! Ohhhh stop… stop… please, I beg…!"
Then, there came a burst of agony between her naked thighs, a sudden, deep, plunging entry as if a white-hot ingot had been thrust into her body.
She screamed, futilely attempting to recoil from the fleshy snake, but it pursued her however she managed to twist and writhe, and a wet mouth clamped onto hers, chewing at her gasping lips and tongue, while the searing torture-rod raced in and out and in, pounding her little-girl cunt until she was certain it was being devoured by tongues of flame, and her whole lower portions seemed to be torn asunder, causing gushes of tears to stream down her cheeks until at last, she made her final sob… and fainted dead away.
Madeleine awakened much later. It was dark and a bedside lamp burned in the room. As she gathered her wits slowly, she became aware of her breasts being stroked, and that a human being lay tight against her back. She was on her side, in a bed, covered with an unfamiliar patch-quilt. She was naked except for her ruined stockings. It all came back to her then… she felt like weeping over the nylons. She took a deep breath and gazed at what loomed before her eyes. The room was strange and her head throbbed. Then, the agonized ache in her vagina registered, and as she moved ever so slightly its soreness whipped her breath away. She stopped moving; it felt as if something was lodged inside it… but after a moment, she knew that was not so. Momentarily, the events past materialized into a pattern of horror, and without moving further, she dropped her eyes to gape at the fleshy hand caressing her breast. So… it was reality! He had done it to her! And that accounted for the inflamed fury at her groin. All right… so, it was done. She'd kept her end of the bargain after all… Good. Damnit… good! Instantly, she found that she was somewhat happy now that it was behind her. At least, he hadn't gotten her virginity… the filthy pig! And now, he couldn't deny her Boston.
"I'm thirsty," she said matter-of-factly, licking at her parched lips. "I'd like some water."
She made a motion toward arising but he held her down. Then, his hand ran down her belly, the fingers tracing a line over her hip to rest in the hollow of her buttock. She felt his heavy bulk stir behind her as he rolled from the bed.
"You stay put, baby. I'll get it for you… in honor of your tight little pussy and most beautiful ass."
His filthy words twisted at her entrails. Dear God, she thought, what could she have been thinking of? Then, he came into view around the foot of the bed and she watched his flabby buttocks shake obscenely as he walked to his valise. She stared at him, refusing to believe that he had actually penetrated her almost virginal body so intimately.
"What you need's a slug of vodka and water," he prescribed.
"No… please. Just water."
He grinned. "Better learn to listen to your elders, baby. They know what's best."
It was useless, like everything else. She watched him pour a small amount from the bottle he took out of his bag, then fill the tumbler with water. He brought it to her and she drank thirstily; he climbed over her, laying down behind her once more. She tried to ignore his intense body heat, thinking vaguely how different one saw things once they were over and done with.
The drink was effective, bracing and warming her stomach. She lay quietly and felt him snuggle closer to her. That, she could endure; tomorrow they would be in Boston and she had enough money… dear God… he had another erection! It felt huge against the cleavage of her bottom.
"You've got skin like green moss, baby. Ever feel moss? It's as soft as velvet… maybe softer," he said.
"Th-Thank you."
"But… you surprised me, kid." He sniggered quietly. "You weren't no Goddamned virgin like I expected. Someone'd been in that little cunt of yours playing around before me."
"No! That's not true," she lied. "It's… it's from riding the horse for my brother when he plowed."
Keel laughed outright. "So…? Cherries are always trouble anyway; they scream too loud. It makes no difference. You were good, kid. You were good… wild enough as it was. That's some tight little cunt you've got… or had." He laughed lewdly. "Can't imagine what it'd been like if it was any tighter."
He spoke the words with intense pleasure. It was obvious to Madeleine that he'd enjoyed every minute of her rape. She didn't respond, simply laid there, her mind almost a blank now, her only thoughts when they did occur, were of Boston and her future.
His pulsing shaft of flesh pressing between her soft, round buttocks surprised her with a sudden jerking motion, and then he put his hand on her waist, clutching at her hardly perceptible hip bone to draw her bottom toward his loins.
"Please?" she sparred, feeling quite safe now.
His huge body moved closer against her from behind and then he was nibbling at the nape of her neck, moving along to her shoulder. She lay, pretending impassiveness, even as a little ball of apprehension began to form once more inside her belly. Abruptly, his hand slipped between her thighs where her buttocks adjoined them. She jerked automatically, but his presence there no longer shocked her, nor did it please her either, but in fact, it affected her no way at all. His thick, long fingers dallied at the lips of her vagina, finally oozing inside her passage to gently stroke its walls. Her wetness startled her and she contracted her bowels in spite of herself. Then, amazingly enough, it occurred to her that she was not exactly repelled by his manipulations this time, that even a certain amount of thrill was surging through her. God… what was she becoming, anyway? Was this the way it happened to the girls she had known who had ran away to Montreal? Were all females affected by something inserted in, or playing at the mouths of their pussies? She'd never have believed it if someone had told her… And then, his rigid prick slipped between her tight, full thighs following his leading fingers that had probed for her pelvic opening.
God, she had to keep a hold on herself. "Please, M'sieu' Keel, I'm too sore for that," she managed in English.
"It's all in your head, kid… just lay perfectly still and enjoy it," he hissed hotly into her ear.
Damn him! She caught at the moment of anger swelling up in her throat, swallowed twice, then felt the turgid head of his cock find the irritated ring of the moist hair-lined orifice between her thighs. Momentarily, she winced, groaning as it wormed into her, but he gave no quarter, and at that precise moment of entry he seemed to become transformed with all the animal-like qualities she had already become familiar with. His breath rasped from his lungs in a grunting burst and he skewered viciously and completely right up into her, so emphatically that she let out a cry of agony and tried to pull free of him.
"Oh pleaseee! You're hurting me!" she exclaimed.
But he held her fast, a hand clutching around each hip so that his fingers gouged into the firm pliable flesh of her abdomen. He thrust into her from behind without mercy, growing ever larger and larger. She gasped, writhing in her understandable increasing agony, impaled completely, helplessly, once again. His thighs were sweaty, sticky-hot along the undersides of her own, and the bristly hairs of his loins prickled at her nude buttocks. He pounded into her without letup.
Good God, he seemed to pack her entire young belly with his massive, pummeling prick… up to her breasts… and maybe beyond. Sometimes, he hurt her she thought, but not so often now, and there were other moments when it seemed as if he were bursting inside her, expanding intricate parts that had always been secret, closed, forbidden. He was like a churning sea of volcanic lava behind her, hissing, swirling, tossing, thundering and crashing against her soft, smooth behind.
"Jesus Christ!" she heard him grunt in English, while his fingers ground deeply into her belly, making her cry out. She felt an increased pressure at her hips, then he was pulling and guiding her onto her knees, forcing himself up behind her. She didn't resist, but let herself be maneuvered, although the animalistic position completely embarrassed her. She had never kneeled in front of a man before.
Madeleine felt him inch closer between her widespread thighs, separating them even further with his knees, ramming his lust-inflated cock deeper and deeper, to the very hilt… his heavy, bloated balls swaying and slapping against her now erect and quivering clitoris as it peeked from its little shrine between the spread moist lips of her tight cunt. Stretched open this way, he was reaching an unmerciful depth inside her, forcing gasp after gasp of deceiving pain-pleasure from her panting mouth. Her back had already begun to ache from the cruel pressure of his hands about her waist, thrusting her upper torso down so that her buttocks loomed up toward his face. She had never even dreamed such debasement before in her young life; she wondered… how could she ever face anyone again?
The pleasure was growing… the pain lessening… a never-before weird, erotic sensation; her loins tingled and clenched and there began a tiny, maddening, electric-like prickling that instigated deep within her womb and seeped relentlessly through the raw nerve ends of her flesh. His groin pounded her buttocks with punishing, resounding emphasis. She heard little wailing groans commence to escape him, and her own sensations had begun to ripple through her cunt and out the inflamed, fleece-lined lips, dancing like fire across her thighs. He writhed and fucked into her, raising a whine from her throat with every in-plunge. Dear God, he seemed to be continuously growing inside her… and going higher and higher toward her throat. Her firm, youthful breasts heaved and jounced, their nipples distended, pebble-hard and tingling as they brushed tantalizingly against the linen of the bed, and she found herself waggling the stretched moons of her ass uncontrollably back on his spearing rod of flesh… ignoring her tormenting soreness, aware only of the great building pressure of fluid, screaming urgency in her loins… pressure that was reaching toward a fine point of sheer bliss.
This was it! What Jean Louis had tried to explain and was incapable of arousing in her. Mon Dieu… this was it…! She had come to the conclusion it could never happen to her… but it was! Oh God… oh God…! There was a tremendous ever-expanding balloon blowing up to an impossible size within her. Abruptly, she wailed aloud, an eerie shriek as the balloon exploded sending wild, ecstatic, liquid sensations to race poundingly through her loins, overwhelming her with utter joy, yet she screamed and screamed as the tears of frightening enchantment spilled down her cheeks in a rush of delightful relief.
Finally, she began to calm, but she was trembling like a leaf in a storm, her belly quivering, while he continued to incessantly thrust his massive prick into her moist, dilated vagina with driving ferocity, rasping and grunting like a madman and shoving her face into the bed with every wicked, forward plunge. Her momentarily forgotten soreness began to make its existence known once more; her passage bore the feeling of being massaged with steel-wool. She gnashed her teeth, praying now that she could endure it until he would cum… and then it occurred to her that he had taken no precautions… that once he squirted his life-giving sperm into her, she could become pregnant. A new wave of fear spiraled through her and she tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't have it. He clung to her hips savagely, ramming with vicious strokes; she tried to plead her situation but by that time he was muttering to himself, an incoherent sound that quickly graduated into a moaning, groaning agony.
She felt a numbed splitting pain as the brutal head of his deep sunk cock suddenly flared into a hugeness that threatened to tear the tiny clamlike mouth of her womb wide asunder. It jerked and began to spurt; she sensed the gushing hot, white semen shooting into her in seething bursts, sloshing around inside her belly with the effect of liquid fire. The pores of her tight, still palpitating vagina seemed to clasp around it of their own volition, the raw, pink sheath sucking and milking the jerking shaft as if governed by a separate brain of its own… once more spilling its near-virginal juices into the already flooded cavern of her involuntarily quivering pussy.
At last, he fell on her with a groan, his great weight causing her to collapse beneath him. She struggled for breath, protested and he rolled off her. She said nothing, but got from the bed and went into the bedroom to clean herself up and apply cold towels to her aching loins and battered young slit. When she returned he was asleep on the bed, laying fat and naked, his snores filling the room. Quietly, she crawled beneath the covers and closed her eyes, falling into an exhausted sleep.
Once in the night, Madeleine remembered, he had come to her again and she'd tried to protest, arousing anger in him. When she'd attempted to push him away he'd slapped her hard, then climbed up over her, stretching her thighs wide apart once again. She'd sobbed half-hysterically, but he'd ignored her, stuffing his rigid vile shaft into her tender and bruised cunt yet once more, his great bulk bearing down upon her mercilessly. And as his brutal, thick cock pummeled deeper and deeper into her tortured vagina, she could hear him sniggering almost insanely… and that was the second time she fainted that night.
Now, reflecting back as she lay there waiting for Antoine to come to her, Madeleine recalled how her misery and heartbreak had just begun. In the morning, she had awakened to find M. Keel gone. She had called out first, thinking him to be in the bath, but suddenly panic had seized her and she'd leaped from the bed naked, flinging back the door to see that his car was not there! God, how she had wept!
The proprietaire, an aged man named M. Rondeau and his wife, had sensed her circumstances and taken her to them, provided for her under their roof, and in turn she had worked as long as she could through her pregnancy, maintaining the cabins and keeping the house until her time came. They had even paid for Dr. Carey to deliver her, and advised that she give Igat up when the drunken physician had suggested he could put the child in a good home in Montreal where she could look forward to a full and respectable life.
God, how Madeleine wished she had never listened to them… her sweet, precious Igat… The loss was greater than she could ever have imagined… and once she had learned that the wealthy Rafael Girarde had her baby, she had immediately come to Montreal just to be close to her… happy if she were even able to catch a glimpse of her child on the street. If… if only there were some way she could make arrangements with Mr. Girarde just to see her… to talk to her once in awhile… it wouldn't be so bad, and maybe she could endure it… Perhaps if she went and spoke to the wealthy importer who held some sort of seat in government… He was probably a reasonable man… If only there was some way she could tell Antoine, and he would help… Why didn't he come to bed? She needed him so badly…
Madeleine tossed a few more minutes in her restless confusion, the steady stream of unhappy memories draining her until she closed her eyes in choked weariness. Why didn't he come… why didn't he…?
She slept.