Mr. and Mrs. Delacorte came
over one night to visit, and stayed only about an hour. Mrs. Delacorte
was horrified. "You're living in a slum," she said primly. "It's a
wonder this building hasn't been condemned. Honestly, Suzanne, I don't
see how you can be happy here."
Suzanne was thankful for her father's understanding. "You do your
thing, little girl," he said with a twinkle in his deep blue eyes.
"Would you believe I lived in an apartment just like this before I met
your mother. That was before I made it big, of course." Suzanne
remembered the many times her father had told her about his struggle to
succeed and his eventual emergence as one of Detroit's leading parts
manufacturers. Despite his affluence, Mr. Delacorte still retained his
earthy quality, and his lack of interest in the Grosse Pointe social
scene was a constant thorn in his wife's side. "Your father just
doesn't realize the importance of mixing with the right people," Mrs.
Delacorte would often tell Suzanne. "Birds of a feather, you know, and
all that." And Suzanne would exchange a conspiratorial look with her
father.
On her third day in her apartment, Suzanne asked Donald if she could
come and visit his mother. He had checked in with her after classes to
see if there were any chores she needed done. He was very thrilled at
her interest, and together they walked up to West Forest Avenue, across
the expressway and down several blocks to an apartment building which,
in comparison to Suzanne's, was almost ready to fall apart. Suzanne
repressed a shudder as they climbed the stairs, every step creaking
from their weight and the walls grimy with years of filth. The air was
stagnant and smelled of stale cigarette smoke, liquor and urine.
They entered an apartment on the fifth floor, and she sank immediately
into a chair, panting heavily. Donald shouted out for his mother, and a
few seconds later, a short, plump woman came ambling into the room.
"Hey, ma, this is Suzanne, the one I told you about," Donald said,
proudly showing off a new social conquest.
The woman stared at Suzanne and grinned. As her thick lips pulled back,
her bare gums were revealed.
"Howdy," she said. "S'cuse me. I weren't expectin' company. Wait a
minute. I'll go put my teeth in."
Suzanne looked at Donald, and in her mind wondered how such a handsome
young boy could have come from such a woman. There was hardly one
redeeming physical feature about her. Her hair had obviously not been
combed in weeks. The loose dress she wore was covered with food stains,
and Suzanne could tell she was not wearing any underwear. Her pendulous
breasts swayed in front of her, hanging down almost to her navel,
bumping out against the dress with obscene movements. She wore no
shoes, and her feet were black. Suzanne repressed a shudder, and
thought for a moment of her mother, always so elegantly groomed, so
beautifully dressed, so exquisitely well-mannered.
"Hey, Ted, you home?" Donald's voice rang out, and a moment later a
young man entered the room. "This is my brother, Ted," Donald said. Ted
looked down at Suzanne and grinned.
"Well, Donald said you wuz something else," he said, his eyes sliding
slowly over her. "I'll say you are."
Suzanne blushed and laughed. "You're pretty good-looking yourself,
Ted," she replied, "but then, so's Donald."
"Hey, how about that?" said Ted, moving over, and sitting on the couch
next to Suzanne's chair. "Donald says you wanna find out how we live
and all that shit."
Suzanne nodded. "Yes, I'm majoring in sociology. I'm planning a project
based on the living conditions of people in this area."
Ted laughed coarsely. "Stick around, you'll learn plenty," he said. "We
bin here 'bout two years. Me, I'd rather be back in Kentucky. Least we
could go rabbit huntin' there. Here all I hunt is girls. There's
plenty, too."
"That's nice," said Suzanne, momentarily out of her depth. She was
uncomfortably aware of Ted's penetrating glances and the sensuous twist
of his mouth. He was slightly taller than Donald, and obviously well-
built. His arm muscles rippled under his shirt, and his belt wrapped
tightly around his slim waist. For a passing flash, Suzanne caught
herself glancing at his crotch, which bulged temptingly. But then, she
remembered, so did Donald's. And so had Sam's ...
"Well, I feel better now, with my teeth in." The woman came through the
door and grinned at them. She had made some effort to comb her hair,
and her teeth gleamed between her lips. She still looked like a
grotesque mockery of motherhood. "You like somethin' to drink, Suzanne?
We got some Cokes."
"Yes, thank you. That would be nice. I'm a little out of breath from
climbing those stairs."
"You get used to it," was the calm reply.
"You got you a boyfriend?" asked Ted, his eyes still on her breasts.
Suzanne laughed. "I'm too busy. I'm a student, remember. I don't have
much time for anything but books."
"Hell, that ain't no way to live," said Ted. "You got to get out and
have a little fun. Maybe you'n me could take in a movie some night."
"You shut your goddamn mouth," came the raucous voice from the kitchen.
"Don't you go messing round with Suzanne. She ain't your kind of girl,
and you know it."
Ted grinned and made a face in the direction of the other room. "She
don't know nothin'," he said in a low voice. "I go with plenty of
chicks. All kinds. You ask Donald."
Donald grinned, looking slightly shamefaced. "He's got lots," he said,
"but ma don't like him screwing round."
"You damn right I don't." Heavy footsteps and the clatter of Coke
bottles signaled her return from the kitchen. "Here, Suzanne. Hope you
don't mind drinkin' from the bottle. We're kinda short on glasses."
"That's fine, thank you," Suzanne said.
"Okay, so Donald says you wanna ask some questions. You jest fire
away."
There was a slight shake to the floor as the woman subsided into a
rickety chair. Suzanne reached into her purse and took out a small
notepad and a pencil. As she readied herself, she was grimly aware that
Ted's eyes were still on her, and his face held a leering, sensuous
quality that disturbed her.
The next day, Suzanne settled down to go over her notes on her first
case history. The details amazed her. Donald's mother confessed that
she had been married when she was fifteen, and only because she had
become pregnant by her husband. She had Ted, and two years later
Donald, and then shortly afterwards her husband had been killed in an
airplane crash. She received a pension and also assistance from the
state. But her income was barely enough to keep body and soul together.
She decided to move from Kentucky to Michigan in the hopes of getting
employment. Also, she said, the schools would be better for her boys.
Unfortunately, her poor educational background precluded her from
getting anything but the most menial work, and she felt she would just
as soon stay home and subsist on her pension and welfare checks. The
boys dropped out of school and earned occasional money as best they
could. Ted worked sometimes as a busboy or as a messenger, but he
seldom stayed in a job longer than a month.
Suzanne promised to see what she could do to get the woman situated in
a position that she could handle and which would bring in some more
money for her. She seemed grateful, though not overly enthusiastic. She
apparently no longer seemed to care, as long as she was able to feed
herself and her sons and pay the low-cost housing rental. Suzanne
decided that she would make the family her project: try to get the
mother situated, and work on the boys to instill some sense of
responsibility and ambition in them. She mentioned her plans to her
sociology instructor, who listened attentively, then said, "Lotsa
luck!"
She related this to Yvonne, who laughed loudly. "Little Miss Do-Good,"
she said cynically. "Just wait till you've talked to a few more
families around here. You'll realize you're wasting your time."
Suzanne was indignant. "No sincere effort to help others is a waste of
time," she retorted. "Maybe all these people really need is to know
someone cares about what happens to them."
Yvonne became deadly serious. "Look, my girl," she said, "I've lived in
this area for seven years. I know these people. They'll take the
handout, but they'll never settle down and work. But if you get your
kicks, fine, go ahead and try. But don't be too disappointed. And above
all, don't leave yourself open for a pass. Those two kids'll probably
just as soon screw you as look at you. They've probably been fucking
since they were old enough to get a hard-on. I know these Kentucky
hillbillies. They'll fuck anything. So watch out, my girl, unless you
want to lose that prize virginity of yours."
Suzanne remembered Ted's glances at her, and his casual reference to
going out. But then, she thought, he wouldn't try anything. He knows
I'm not interested. Besides, she reasoned, if they did, she could
always scream. She'd read somewhere that nothing scares off a would-be
rapist quicker than a woman's screams.
She put her notes away and went into the kitchen. She planned to make a
quick meal and settle down to studying. She took out a saucepan and
filled it with water. As she turned the faucet, she heard a click, and
the water continued gushing out even after she had turned the handle
off. Impatiently, she walked to the door and down the stairs to Mrs.
Sansome's apartment. She knocked, but there was no reply. She went back
upstairs, and as she reached the third floor, she saw Donald standing
at her door.
"Hi," he said, smiling broadly. "You want anything done?"
With a sigh of relief, she nodded. "My faucet's leaking," she told him,
"and Mrs. Sansome's out."
"No problem," he said cheerfully. "Ted's home, and he's done plumbing
work. I'll go get him. We'll fix it in a jiffy."
He ran down the stairs, and Suzanne walked back into the kitchen and
began peeling some potatoes. Within ten minutes, Donald and Ted were
back, armed with wrenches and a washer. Ted greeted her affably, and
went to work. Within minutes, he had stepped back triumphantly. The
faucet had been fixed.
"Thank you so much," Suzanne said. "How much do you want? A dollar?"
She had learned that almost any chore Donald did was a dollar. Ted
nodded.
"That'll be fine," he said.
Suzanne went to her purse, took out the money and handed it over. As he
took the bill, he closed his hand over hers and pulled her to him
quickly, kissing her on the lips. Suzanne jerked away, her eyes
flashing.
"Don't get mad," said Ted lazily, still holding her hand. "Nothin'
wrong with a little kiss, now is there?"
Suzanne disengaged herself and moved away, her heart beating
unnaturally fast.
"I think ... I think you'd both better leave now," she said as calmly
as she could. "I have to get supper ready, and I have studying to do."
Ted laughed and leaned up against the sink.
"Maybe you'd like a change tonight," he said. "Like maybe studying
something more interesting."
He slid his hand down to his crotch and adjusted his genitals, bunching
them up suggestively. Donald broke into a giggle.
"Ted, thank you for fixing the faucet," Suzanne said, desperately
trying to cope with the situation, which she felt was getting
completely out of hand. "And now, if you don't mind."
Ted walked forward, put his hand around her waist, and pulled her
violently to him.
"Come on, I'm a good lay. Ask Donald. He's seen me in action."
She struggled ineffectually, conscious of a growing tension in her
loins and a terrible fear in her heart. She heard Yvonne's words in her
mind. "Those two kids'll probably just as soon screw you as look at
you." Then she felt Ted's lips on hers, and his tongue pushing into her
mouth. She struggled, and her hips felt the pressure of his body with
its suggestive bulge between his legs.
She managed to break away, and she gasped out a strangled plea. "Ted,
please, let me go!"
His arms continued holding her, and his eyes narrowed as they glared at
her.
"I ain't lettin' you go," he drawled. "We're gonna have a little fun,
just you, me and Donald."
Suzanne felt the tears come splashing down her cheeks.
"I ... I'm not that sort of girl," she stammered.
Ted laughed loudly.
"You mean you don't screw around? All you rich bitches from Grosse
Pointe fuck. I know. I've had plenty of 'em. And they always come back
for more, because I got what it takes. Here, you feel for yourself."
He grabbed her hand and pulled it down between his legs. Her fingers
touched the growing hardness there, and she struggled even more.
"Donald, please help me," she begged, turning to the younger boy, and
then her eyes widened with horror. Donald was standing, his fly open
and his erect penis jutting forth, held in his hands which massaged it
gently up and down. "Donald!" Her voice rose almost to a scream, and
Ted's hand clamped over her mouth in a flash.
"Now don't you do anything stupid like screaming," he said
threateningly. "You got a real purty face. It wouldn't look too good
all beat up now, would it?"
Ted began pulling her over to the alcove with the bed.
"Come on, baby brother, you know what to do," he said, his voice
chuckling evilly, "Start with her skirt. I want to see that nice hairy
pussy of hers."
Suzanne couldn't believe it was happening. This was a nightmare, she
knew. Donald was a nice boy. He wouldn't do anything like that. He
couldn't. She stared disbelievingly as Donald came over, his penis
jutting from his pants, a long, thick organ that she could hardly
believe was possible on such a young boy.
Ted held her tightly, and Donald's hands searched for the zipper on the
side of her skirt. Her entire body was trembling. She felt him fumble,
and then the zipper slid down, and her skirt slipped to the floor.
"Wow, look at them legs!"
Donald's hands grasped her underwear, and pulled down, and she felt the
cool rush of air against her crotch. Ted bent her over backwards, and
pulled her down on the bed, still holding one hand over her mouth. He
lifted his head to get a better view of her naked thighs and hips.
Donald was already kneeling between her legs, staring hard at her,
while his hand caressed his penis.
"Jeez, that's eatin' stuff. Go at it!"
She felt Donald's hands come forward, run up the inside of her thighs
and come to rest on her cunt-lips, pulling them open with a sudden
movement. She heard him whistle, and then his head came forward and his
mouth closed over her mound, his tongue licking her ravenously. She
felt his flesh hot upon her own, and the tip of his tongue flicking
across her clitoris. A flash of fire went through her loins, and she
struggled.
"She likes it, don't you, Miss Rich Bitch?" hissed Ted softly. "Well,
you're gonna git it, so you may as well quit all this struggling. And
one peep outa you, and I'll let you have it, right across the mouth."
Suzanne's mind was reeling. She could not believe what was happening to
her. Mentally she cried out for Sam, for her parents, for Yvonne, for
anyone who might come and rescue her from this terrible predicament.
These two vile kids were going to rape her; she knew it, and she knew
she was powerless to prevent it.
"Okay, you've had a taste," snapped Ted. "Now get her top off. I wanna
see those tits."
Donald raised up, and after a few seconds manipulating the buttons on
her blouse, he pulled her blouse away, and then undid her bra. As her
things fell away, her breasts lay exposed to their lecherous eyes.
"Oh, wow, that's what I call tits!" Ted's voice was filled with
admiration and lust. "Now you settle down, and remember, one peep, and
you're gonna be sorry."
He released her, and swung around, his mouth closing over her left
breast. Donald came forward and began sucking on her right nipple,
while his hand pushed into her crotch and his finger began playing with
her wet, warm pussy.
She stared down at the two young men, conscious of the waves of sensual
desire that were flooding her body. She had never in her life
experienced such sensations. From the fingers in her crotch to the lips
on her breasts, electric tingles were coursing through her, and she
felt the depths of her vagina responding, a tumultuous wave of erotic
desire, and over it all an all-consuming fear that made her tremble
from head to toe.
Ted raised up and fumbled with his fly. A moment later, his own massive
organ sprang into view, and Suzanne gasped audibly. It was even thicker
and longer than Donald's, with a large, flat dark red head pushing
through the folds of foreskin, angrily pointing at her. Ted laughed
softly.
"Told you I had what it takes," he said, "Go down and say hello to him.
He won't bite you, but he'll sure spit in your eye if you kiss him
right."
His hand came behind her neck, and pulled her down. She felt the end of
his penis touch her lips, and a wave of nausea wracked her. She
struggled, and felt the warm organ slide between her lips and into her
mouth.
"Suck it, you bitch, suck it!"
In sheer desperation, she began rubbing her tongue along the underside
of his shaft, tasting for the first time the musky firmness of his sex
and the sensuousness of the skin around his rod. He began humping, and
she felt it slide in and out, ramming all the way into her throat and
then out again.
Oh, God, she thought to herself, how long does this go on? Why can't
they leave me alone instead of making me do all these obscene things,
and then ... would they want more?
Would they want to take her virginity?
Suzanne tried hard not to burst into hysterical tears, but merely kept
on sucking at the massive organ that was being pounded into her mouth
with mounting speed and firmness. She heard Ted begin to moan, and his
hands came around the back of her neck, holding her in position.
"I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," he cried out, and she was conscious
of his fingers digging into her neck while his penis seemed to flex and
grow thicker as he rammed it into her throat, almost choking her. It
seemed to pulsate, to throb even more as it was driven quicker and
quicker in and out of her mouth, sliding between her lips like a fiery
lollipop, almost too big for her to lick comfortably. Then he cried
out, "Here she comes, oh, suck it, you cunt, suck it good. Oh,
woweeeee, shoot, shoot, shoot, you big dick, shoot into this cunt. Give
it to her, baby." And then, with a flood, he ejaculated into her mouth.
Suzanne tasted the hot, sweet-salty semen spurting forth from the wide
end of his rod, and automatically she gulped and swallowed the thick,
warm fluid that kept on coming, load after load, while his hands held
her head and his fingernails sank into her skin. Vaguely she heard
Donald's excited giggling mingled with Ted's orgasmic groans of
pleasure.
Then, mercifully, it was over. She felt his penis soften and slowly
withdraw. His hands released her head, and he lifted himself off and
sat down on the bed, still breathing heavily, and grinning at her.
"For a rich bitch, you do pretty good," he said grudgingly. "That sure
felt good. Okay, baby brother, your turn."
Suzanne's eyes opened wide again as she stared at Donald, his penis
still projecting menacingly from his pants.
"Go on, suck him off, too, you cunt," snapped Ted. "He wants a little."
Before she could voice her protests, Donald had straddled her chest and
pushed his penis towards her mouth. Again she felt the firmness of male
flesh in her mouth, and she began sucking. Donald began groaning
immediately, and moving his hips, thrusting his firm organ rapidly in
and out of her. She realized he was not as large as his brother, for
which she was thankful. At least it was easier to cope with, and
subconsciously she knew he was almost at the peak of excitement. She
brought her hands up and began fondling his testicles, pulling on them
gently, her fingernails trailing through his pubic hair.
"Oh, oh, oh," he moaned. "Jeez, that's good. Oh, take it, take it all."
Then with a convulsive shudder, she felt him push his organ deep into
her throat and hold it there as it throbbed and flexed, shooting his
seed into her while she gulped and swallowed.
He went soft almost at once, and withdrew, climbing off her and lying
down on the bed, panting, and saying how wonderful it had been. She
heard Ted laugh softly, and then his hand was in her crotch, his
fingers probing greedily into her dripping canal.
"Okay, bitch, you ready for some real action now?"
She stared at him wordlessly; she felt defiled, degraded, with her
mouth still tasting of the hot come and her body aching from the effort
and the weight of their bodies on her. She looked down and saw that
Ted's penis was hard once again, its slick surface gleaming from the
saliva that still clung to it. He had pulled the foreskin all the way
back, exposing the wide, red head which shone angrily like a cobra
ready to strike.
"Spread your legs, baby, poppa's coming in for a landing!"
Ted crawled over, and just as he positioned himself between her thighs,
Suzanne became suddenly galvanized into action. She raised up from the
bed, trying desperately to scramble away.
"Oh, no, you don't," snapped Ted, pushing her back. "You grab her,
Donald. Hold this bitch while I fuck her."
Donald quickly tied her ankles to the bedpost, using her stockings,
then moved above her head, his knees pinning her shoulders to the bed
and his hands holding her head.
"Please ... please ... not that, please not that. I've never done that
before. Oh, please, Ted ... Donald ... I'll do anything, but not that."
They both stared at her, their faces disbelieving.
"Whaddya mean, you ain't done that before?" rasped Ted, his face
sneering down at her. "You ain't cherry, is you?"
She nodded. "Yes, yes. I've never done that with anyone."
Ted looked at Donald, and they both burst into loud contemptuous
laughter.
"Now I've heard it all," said Ted. "This bitch comes from Grosse Pointe
and she says she's cherry. Shit, baby, the chicks I know from Grosse
Pointe start fucking when they're six or seven. Don't hand me that
shit."
He leaned forward, lowering his erect penis between her legs and
sliding it slowly up towards her vagina. Suzanne felt the tears start
again, and she sobbed uncontrollably. Across her mind flashed an image
of Sam, lying next to her, and she knew it could never happen; she
would never go to her wedding night a pure virgin. It was happening
now, and with someone who was coarse, rough, and didn't care for her at
all as a person; to him she was just a sex object. There was no love
involved, and to her sex without love was meaningless. Oh, Sam, Sam ...
She felt the end of his penis push aside her vulva, and penetrate. She
felt the wide, slick surface brush against her clitoris, and she cried
out, her body convulsing with the rising tide of her own sexual
response. Then she felt a sharp pain, and he stopped thrusting, pausing
a moment; then with a vicious jab, he broke through and his entire
length slid into her. The exquisite feel of his enormous organ within
her vagina overcame the pain she felt, and as he began moving his hips,
withdrawing, then plunging back in again, she found her own body
joining his in a smooth rhythm. Ted moaned, and heard him speak.
"Oh, yes, baby, yes. She's gettin' with it, Donald, she's gettin' with
it."
Donald was kneeling on the floor, his head level with the bed, his eyes
glued on the sight of his brother's penis entering her dripping crack,
ramming home so hard that his balls slapped against her bare buttocks
every time.
Suzanne found her arms going around Ted's back, clawing at his shirt,
digging into his flesh beneath. Her breath became deeper and louder;
she realized she was no longer crying, but moaning with sublime
ecstasy. The moment she had waited so long for had finally happened,
and it was better than she had dreamed it would be; more wonderful than
her wildest imagination had told her; more stimulating than her
momentary masturbation had ever been. She finally had a big cock in
her, and she was riding it, taking it all the way up to the hilt, and
feeling it probe her depths. Despite her feeling of degradation, she
wanted to scream to the rooftops: "Look, I'm fucking. At last, I'm
fucking!" She wanted her mother to walk in at that second so she could
cry out, "Look, mother, I'm doing it and it's wonderful. He's got the
biggest dick in the world and I'm getting fucked by it!"
She moved her hips faster and faster to match his growing excitement,
and then she heard him grunt and ram his rod deep into her and hold it
there. His body shuddered and she felt the warm rush of his come within
her, discharging into her and running down between her legs. Then her
own insides convulsed, and she cried out as she felt wave after wave of
supreme delight wash through her, and she felt herself being lifted,
like she was floating on clouds, drifting high above the bed, suspended
on the end of his magnificent cock that was buried deep inside her.
"You're a good fuck, baby, I'll say that."
His words brought her back to earth with a rush, and she felt him roll
off her, his penis withdrawing from her. He knelt between her fettered
legs, and stared down at her.
"Jesus, you really were cherry!"
Ted's eyes widened as he saw the telltale bloodstains on the bed and
the smears around her pubic area. He frowned down at her, and
fumblingly untied her.
"How come? How come you wuz cherry?"
"Because I was, that's why," Suzanne replied, her voice quavering with
the sudden return to reality and the horror she felt within her. "I
told you ... I told you ..." And then the tears cascaded down her
cheeks, and she rolled over on her stomach, sobbing loudly and almost
out of control.
She felt the bed move as Ted got up, and there was the rustle of
clothing as he and Donald zipped themselves up.
"Hey."
She heard his voice, but she remained face down. Then she felt his hand
on her shoulder, pulling her over. His face glowered down at her.
"We're gettin' out of here, but you'd better not say anything about
what's happened, you hear?"
She stared mutely up at him, biting her lips.
"One word out of you, and I'll call your ma and pa up and tell them
you've been putting out, you understand? So you keep your goddamn mouth
shut."
He straightened up, and she looked dumbly at him and Donald as they
moved towards the door. They paused and looked back at her. Ted grinned
evilly.
"You're a good lay," he said grudgingly. "Good enough for a second
helping. So maybe we'll be back."
He opened the door and they left, slamming the door behind them. As
their footsteps clattered down the stairs, Suzanne rolled over and
buried her face in the pillow and her body shook with sobs. Slowly she
subsided, and was conscious of the chill on her skin. Slowly she eased
off the bed and walked into the bathroom. For a moment, she stared at
herself in the mirror, at the swollen lips, her red-rimmed eyes, the
finger marks on her breasts, and the red smears around her vagina.
Almost mechanically, she reached for the faucets and let the hot,
steaming water run into the tub, and after adjusting the temperature,
she slowly lowered her aching body into the warm depths. She stretched
out and closed her eyes. Oh, God, she thought, I pray I don't get
pregnant. Please, God, don't let me be pregnant.
In the dim recesses of her mind, she heard the voice of her sociology
instructor: "Lotsa luck!"
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