Chapter 10
It was the tenth day.
Karen could not understand why Billy Denim had not returned for her as he had promised.
Perhaps she had been wrong in giving him all the delights her body afforded. She had withheld nothing to tempt him back. Her own perverse nature had been her final downfall.
She began to worry about the food supply. She had not seen Vincent. Perhaps he had also forgotten about her. Or perhaps he meant to keep her in the pink room forever. They would find her someday, her youth gone, her body wasted. She'd be but a screaming old white-haired woman, sucking at an empty whisky bottle.
She'd managed to stay away from the liquor since Denim's visit, but she had begun to think about it again. With it she could dull her senses.
With it she could imagine that Denim had returned, and that he had spirited her away to some beautiful place near the borders of heaven.
She went to the cabinet, took out a fresh bottle, broke the seal, and put it to her lips. Two drinks calmed her nerves, and she put the bottle away. Billy might still come for her.
It was about noon when she heard someone outside the door. "Vincent?" she asked.
There was no reply. Just the sound of a man breathing.
"Billy?"
She heard heavy footsteps going back up the stairs.
An hour later, she heard the shuffling sound beyond the door again. This time she thought she knew the man's identity.
"Torne?" she asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Why haven't you been down to see me before now?" she asked. She was actually glad to hear his voice.
"I ain't supposed to be down here," Torne said. "Mr. Kingston's orders."
"Then why did you come?"
"I was worried about you," he said. "Kept wondering if you got plenty to eat. I don't think Mr. Kingston's ever left a girl down here this long. He must be plenty riled at you, Missy."
"I guess."
"He never would let you out if he knew you'd been messing around with Billy Denim," Torne said.
"What's happened to Billy, Torne?" she asked.
"Well, he's just unlucky enough to be an ex-cop," Torne said.
"Something happened to him?" Her heart felt as if it were in her throat.
"Naw," Torne said. "He was a witness to a killing a few years back. The guy got away and they just caught him a coupla weeks ago. His case is up in court, and it seems like he's got a lot of connections where it counts. The law's got Billy under guard, afraid hell get knocked off before he can testify."
Karen breathed a sigh of relief. "How long will the trial last?"
"Who knows?" Torne said. "Days. Weeks. Even months."
"Oh, my God." She was troubled again.
"You better get your mind off Denim," Torne said. "He ain't gonna bust you outta there."
"I wasn't thinking about that," Karen said.
"You're lying, Missy," Torne said. "Denim was here to see you a coupla nights ago, wasn't he?"
"No."
"I seen him come and I seen him go," Torne said. "He was planning to take you away?"
"Yes," she admitted.
"Best he got caught up in court," Torne said grimly. "Ain't no way I coulda let him take you."
"Vincent holds an awesome power over you, Torne," Karen said. "It's more than dedication. More than a crippled foot. What is it?"
Torne laughed bitterly. "Since you ain't going nowhere and I ain't either, Missy, I don't reckon it'll hurt to tell you. I got in a fight with a man on the loading docks. He called me a black sonofabitch and I beat him to death with my bare hands. Just went crazy, I guess.
"Mr. Kingston came onto the platform and seen me standing over the man's body. I expected him to call the law right away, but he didn't. He told me I was a good hand and he hated to lose me, and that the dead guy wasn't nothing but a no-count, drag-ass, anyway. He offered to help me make it look like an accident.
"That's the way I come by this bad foot. Deliberately crushed it with the forklift. And then we used the same forklift to drop a helluva big crate on the dead man and make it look like he was crushed to death at the same time."
Karen shuddered. "So that made you Vincent's slave?"
Torne grunted. "I like some other word better."
"Prisoner," Karen said. "You're as much a prisoner as I am."
"I reckon, Missy," Torne said. "Difference is, Mr. Kingston's gonna tire of you sooner or later and let you go. Hell hang onto me as long as I got a breath left in my body."
"We can both run away, Torne," she suggested hopefully.
"You and me?"
"Yes "
"Together?"
"Why not?"
"Mr. Kingston would have me in jail before we could get out of the state," Torne said.
"Then let me go, Torne. Please."
"You know I can't."
"You like me, don't you, Torne?"
He nodded but said nothing.
Karen was growing desperate. If Denim was detained long, she would be stark raving mad by the time he returned. She could not suffer further confinement. Torne was her only chance. She put her face close to the door, whispering sweetly and seductively to the big black.
"Whatever happened to Becky, Torne?" she asked.
"She just left," he said, chuckling. "Left the house and left town."
"Did you like her, Torne? Her body?" Karen asked.
"I druther not talk about it," he said.
"I'm better than she is, Torne," Karen said invitingly. "Younger, too. If you'll open the door, I'll be good to you."
"I can't touch you, Miss Karen," Torne said stiffly.
"I'm naked, Torne," she said. "I haven't got on a stitch of clothing. No bra. No panties. You can see my titties. Everything."
Torne took a deep breath. "It ain't no use, Missy," he said. "Now, stop talking that way. I gotta go. Been here too long already."
"Wait, Torne!" she cried, her desperation growing. "You can do more than look at me. You can do anything you want to do. You can fuck me, Torne. You can stick your big prick up in my warm little pussy and fuck me all you want, Torne!"
His breathing was harsh and grating. "Even if I wanted, I couldn't get the lock off," he said.
"I'm naked, Torne!" she cried. "All white and pink and soft... "
He shuffled up the stairs.
Karen felt close to utter defeat. The odds against her were insurmountable. She could not even use her young white flesh to seduce a man like Torne. His fear of Vincent was stronger than his lust for her. And he did want her. The lust was there. She had seen it when he had carried her from Denim's cottage, and she had seen it that morning in the bedroom. But Torne had perfect control. As badly as he had hated Becky, he had made no move toward her until Vincent gave permission. He reminded her of a well-trained dog-leaping for the victim's throat only at direct orders from his master.
The sun was setting.
Torne was outside the door again. "Missy?"
Karen got off the bed. "Just leave me alone, Torne. You won't help me."
"It ain't that I wouldn't like to," Torne said. "I been up there all evening worrying about you."
"Vincent hasn't come home yet?"
"I guess he's out beating the bushes for something," Torne said. "He ain't exactly been his self since that little Teressa girl was here."
"He deserved what he got," Karen said.
Torne laughed shortly. "Wouldn't want to let him know I said it, but I'll have to agree with you, Missy."
Karen was getting another idea. "Will you bring me something, Torne?" She felt that she had one last chance, and that was to let Torne see her in the nude and drive his lust for her body to the point of no return.
"I told you before," he said. "I can't get the door open."
"Just a bottle of milk, Torne," she said. "You can come around to the window and stick it through the bars."
"Okay," he said readily. "But you ain't gonna talk me into anything."
"Oh, I've given up on that," Karen said, smiling to herself.
After she heard Torne going up the stairs, she turned the radio on. Strangely enough, she had not played it since she'd been confined. It squawked and faded away. She searched for another station. The tubes were weak but the radio continued to make a humming noise.
"Oh, damnit!" she hissed. She had to have the radio working in order to put her plan into full action. She had to have an erection-building effect on the big butler when she went into her routine.
She flipped the switch to FM and moved the dial frantically. Feebly, the music came at her. She turned the volume to the limit. Ah. A band with a trumpet in the background.
"Missy?"
She turned toward the window.
Torne was speaking from above her. She saw him lying on the ground, his big arm extended through the bars. He was clutching a bottle of milk and his big paw dwarfed it.
"Just a minute," she said.
"Hurry it up," he told her. "I don't want Mr. Kingston to find me out here."
She walked slowly across the pink tile, her hips weaving seductively. "Do you like music, Torne?"
"Just take the milk, Miss Karen."
"Watch me." She began to move her feet, doing a little dance. Her asscheeks swayed and her tit-flesh bobbed in rhythm. She laughed. "Would you like to dance with me, Torne?"
"Can't hardly walk with this foot of mine," he said, then looked quickly away from her naked body.
Karen continued her dance. Torne was looking again. The trumpet came on loud and strong as a sudden surge of power hit the weak tubes. She reacted, undulating her belly and bumping her furry pussy-mound at him. His eyes began to bulge. She squatted and did a slow grind with her ass, pushing her lush little cunt upward so that he could see just the beginning of her tantalizing slit.
Torne licked his lips like a dog that wanted to bite and was afraid to do so.
"If you could just reach through the bars and touch it," she said, beginning to pant from the exertion of the erotic dance. "Do you want me to climb up in the chair? Maybe you can put your hand on it."
"I gotta go," he said, but he did not move.
"My pussy is so hot, Torne," she said. "I've been locked up without a man for so long, I could fuck anything."
"Me?" he croaked.
"You," she whispered.
She made a hunching, screwing movement as the music ended with a final blare of the trumpet, then she flung herself on the bed. She threw her legs apart, exposing her rift from clit to asshole. She worked her abdominal muscles and then her pussy-muscles. The lips of her pussy sucked inward.
"Torne?"
He was gone.
"You crummy bastard," she cried angrily. "You prickless, ball-less bastard!"
Her misery was short-lived. Torne was banging viciously at the door. "I'm coming, Missy!"
he shouted. "I'm coming!"
Steel sounded against iron. The heavy lock dropped to the floor and the iron bar was wrenched away. The door swung open. Torne was tearing at his clothes as he came into the pink room.