Chapter 6
Vincent was sitting on the sofa and Karen's head lay on his lap. He'd practically had to force her into the intimate position and her reluctance worried him. For the past two days he'd sensed a strangeness in her. They seemed to be slipping apart, much as he and Becky had done, and he was not yet prepared to rid himself of Karen. No other girl in his life had so obsessed him, had been so adept at keeping his desire on a sharp edge.
Karen stirred uncomfortably and tried to rise, but he held her in place. "Let me up, Vincent," she said. "I'm thirsty." She felt his prick-shaft rising beneath his pants, pressing firmly against the side of her face.
"Let the nectar of the gods quench your thirst," he said.
She tried to shift away from his enormous hard-on.
"Stop fighting it," Vincent said. "Do... do we have to make love tonight, Vincent?" she asked. "Why shouldn't we?"
"I'm tired," she said. "Exhausted." He chuckled. "This performance will require very little effort on your part. You simply have to... " He reached for his fly.
Karen closed her eyes. She didn't want to look. The scraping sound made by his zipper sent a chill down her spine. The inevitable had to happen. She moved her head further down his thigh. It didn't help. When she opened her eyes, she was staring directly at his bloated cock-head.
Vincent pushed his thick prick-shaft downward so that his glans was but inches from her reluctant lips. "If you're tired, make it quick," he said.
"Please, Vincent," she said. "Don't. Do I have to suck you off so much?"
"I thought you'd grown fond of it," he said. "Well," she grimaced. "I've grown unfond of it."
Vincent scowled and tried not to appear too disgusted with her rejection. "I'm very horny for you tonight."
"You're horny every night," she retorted. "You can't put me off, sweet," he said. "You can be angry, disgusted, belligerent. The end result will be the same. Why not try to get in the mood and make it good for both of us."
"Then, if we must," she sighed, "let's go upstairs to the bedroom. You can... fuck me."
"No," he said firmly. "You know my tastes. Here. Now. My way." He grasped her short black hair in his fingers and brought her pale face closer to his throbbing cock-meat. The huge knob glistened hotly as she continued to reject it. "Torne... " she said.
"You always use Torne's presence in the house as an excuse," Vincent said. "He sees nothing, he hears nothing unless I want him to. Now, suck it!"
"No," she said weakly.
"Maybe you need a little encouragement," he said.
"Vincent!" Karen gasped as he brutally ripped open the front of her lounging pajamas, baring her tit-flesh.
He ran his hands over her firm white globes until the nipples hardened. Karen closed her eyes again as the kneading continued. He knew her weaknesses. Their sensitivity could be felt throughout her body. She liked having them fondled by a man. They glowed warmly, the nipples tingled. And sooner or later, she always felt the contractions in her cunt. Like now. Her pussy was beginning to twitch. It made her want to do evil, lewd things to anyone within reach.
"Vincent," she whispered, as she turned her head to face his bulging cock-meat. She touched the long pale shaft and ran her fingers gently along the congested blue veins.
She flicked her tongue out, wetting her lips. And then she brought the puckered lips against the fiery cock-head.
Vincent pressed her tits flat against her chest, forcing the nipples back into the globes.
"Oh!" Her mouth enveloped his glans.
"Go to it, baby! Suck my cock!" Vincent's eyes glowed as he watched her hungry red mouth work at its task.
"Oh, mmmmm!" Karen hated herself, but she couldn't stop. She drew Vincent's thick cock- shaft halfway down her throat, then shook it loose and rolled her wet velvety tongue around his knob. Vincent's fingers were clutching her tits more strongly, pulling, kneading, pressing. He could almost make her come just by playing with her breasts.
She sucked his prick-meat hungrily, her flesh crying out for him. She knew that she was mad with lust, that Vincent's power over women was spawned by their own weakness for the very perverse.
She tried to fight it. Almost viciously, she grasped his stalk and tore it away from her mouth. The big fat knob glistened, engorged with blood and wet with her saliva. "I can't...
oh, I can't let it go," she murmured, then took it back into her mouth and did not stop sucking it until she felt his thick hot prick-cream flowing down her throat.
Vincent's eyes were frozen with intense pleasure. "You see, my dear," he cooed, "you are still quite fond of it."
Karen was on the verge of coming. "Wonderful, sweet cock," she sobbed hysterically, tearing the pajamas down her thighs. "Oh, I can't wait. Shove your cock in me, love!"
She stood up, stepped from the pajamas, and was so impatient that she didn't bother to remove her panties. She drooled over Vincent's big hard-on, then jumped onto the sofa and put a leg on either side of his body.
"Oh, God, Vincent!" she cried. "I want it so badly!" She held the crotch of her panties aside. Her gaping slit showed red, her clit protruding like a hungry tongue. Desperately, she jammed her cunt at his stiff cock-meat, but the crotch of her panties kept snapping back over her pussy-hole. "Oh, shit!" she said angrily, then ripped the crotch out with her own hands. She slammed her cunt at his prick again, caught his knob just at the edge of her cunt-mouth, then whipped her cunt at it until she fully drove herself onto the fleshy spike.
"Oh, fuck me!" she sobbed, desperate for gratification. Vincent was amused at her efforts.
He leaned back, laughing, and did not try to assist her.
"Oh, damn you, Vincent," she said, grinding her ass against his balls and hunching madly at his cunt-filling cock. "I'll help myself!" Panting and mouthing obscenities, she buried his cock in her seeping pussy time and again. And then, suddenly, she threw her arms around him and smothered his laughing mouth with her tits.
Her ass quivered, her thighs trembled, and her climaxing cunt gripped his thick cock-meat in a strong come-spasm. The tight sleeve of pussy-flesh did not relax until the spasm had spent itself and her come-fluids ran profusely down her ass-flesh and thighs.
"Oh, dear God, Vincent." She shuddered. "That was good!"
"Indeed," Vincent said. He stopped laughing, groaned, and dug his fingers into her ass- cheeks. "A regular collector's item!" He ejaculated.
"Oh, mmmmmm!" Karen savored the hot cum spilling into her belly.
When it was over, Vincent retired to his bedroom. Karen flopped on the sofa, watching him climb the stairs without looking back. The brightness left her eyes, replaced by dull remorse. When he was through with her, she meant nothing to him until the next time.
Hers was only a body to hold his lust.
She arose and went to her own bedroom, feeling thoroughly degraded. Sometimes she felt wonderful after it was over, and sometimes she felt dirty. Tonight, she felt dirty. She showered, soaping herself profusely, especially between her legs. For long moments she let the water run near the scalding point. Then she abruptly turned the knob and the cold water sprayed against her extended tits.
The shock brought her back to reality. She was burying herself here, and tonight had driven another nail into her lust-filled coffin.
Calmly, she reassessed her position, and she became more determined than ever to get away while a measure of will power existed. She had to make her move while she was satiated, while she was firmly in control of her own flesh. Vincent only had to touch her, only had to expose himself to her, and she became instantly powerless. She could not tear herself away from him while her blood boiled hot and the hunger gnawed at her cunt.
Next week she would be eighteen. Next week she wanted to give herself another chance.
Seventeen and a lustful father would be behind her. Seventeen and the spell of Vincent Kingston also had to be left behind. The memory of her would be but a part of his musty collection. And she hoped that her memory of him would not even exist.
Escape. It would not be easy. She had tried twice and failed twice. She had removed one previous obstacle, because Billy Denim was now her friend. The second obstacle remained--the formidable Torne. But she felt that she could move Torne as she had moved Denim. With her body.
For several days she tried to remain in Torne's presence while Vincent was away. When he was not in sight, she searched him out. The big Negro began to find her bothersome.
"Every time I look around, you're on my heels, Miss Karen," he said finally. "You spying on me or something?"
"No."
"I got work to do," he said.
"I haven't," she said, "and I get lonesome when Vincent is away. I need somebody to talk to. Would you rather I go to the cottage?"
Torne's dark face looked unhappy. "Stay away from the cottage," he said. "I don't want to have to kill Denim."
"Billy hasn't hurt you," she said.
"He made love to you," Torne said.
"Do you mind?"
"
"I got an obligation to Mr. Kingston," Torne said bluntly. "That's all."
"Maybe it's more than that, Torne," she suggested. "Maybe you'd like me for yourself."
She reached out and touched his hand.
Torne jerked his hand away as if she had burned him. "I ain't scolding, Missy," he said, "but you'd best keep your hands to yourself."
She smiled. "Are you afraid of me, Torne?" She pulled her shoulders back, taunting him with her high-rising breasts.
His eyes settled on her tit-mounds and his tongue ran across his lower hp. He looked away. "I ain't scared of you, little girl. I'm just scared of myself." He abruptly left the room.
Torne stayed out of Karen's way for the remainder of the day. He did not reappear until Vincent arrived home that evening. But, as he served the evening meal, Karen noticed that he looked at her at every opportunity. He had a strange expression in his eyes, more of wonderment than desire. Karen was confident that she could win him over. Especially when she caught him trying to look down the neck of her blouse as he served dessert.
"The dessert looks delicious, Torne," she said.
"It sure does, Missy," he said, and she thought he leered at her. "Too bad I'm off sweets."
The next morning, after making certain that Vincent had left for work, Karen put a second idea into action. She was in her bedroom, still wearing a frilly negligee and a pair of skimpy panties that hardly concealed her cunt-mound. The negligee was blue, the panties white, and the shadow of her pussy-curls showed through in a dark triangle. Her breasts were bare and the ripe pink nipples could be seen against the clinging fabric. She screamed loudly.
Torne's footsteps sounded on the stairs. When he dashed into the room, his limp was hardly noticeable. "Miss Karen?" he panted. "Something wrong?"
She moved across the room toward him, trying to look frightened. "I thought I saw a rat," she said.
He flashed a broad, relieved smile. "Ain't no rats in this place," he said.
"Except Vincent," she said.
"You got no right to talk that way, Missy," Torne said. "Mr. Kingston has been good to you.
Better than to any of the other girls."
"Good?" she protested. "Do you call white slavery good, Torne. That's what it is, you know. I'm a captive. I stay here because I have to."
Torne did not reply, but he could not keep his eyes off the young, luscious body that showed through the negligee.
Karen eased closer, tempting him. "Can't you help me, Torne?"
He shook his head.
"Doesn't it bother you, Torne?" she asked. "Knowing that Vincent makes love to all the pretty young girls while you stand guard. Tell me, Torne--has Vincent ever thrown you a crumb?"
"I ain't got no hunger for crumbs, Missy." Torne swallowed hard. She was much shorter than he, and her tits were almost touching his upper belly. He could sense the heat of the globes through his clothing. Her knee brushed his leg.
"Just look, but don't touch!" she cried. "That's the rule, isn't it, Torne?"
"Yes," he said. "Mine and Mr. Kingston's."
"Well, take a good look, Torne!" She angrily stripped away the negligee and threw it aside.
All the pale, naked flesh was too much for Torne. He registered shock as he backed away from her. "Don't, Miss Karen. Don't tempt me this way."
Karen pressed him. She could see that the sight of a naked white woman was driving him mad. She pushed her tit-mounds out and took a deep breath. They swelled beautifully on her chest. The nipples were swollen and pink, tantalizing lumps of succulent female flesh.
"Touch my titties, Torne," she invited. "Touch the forbidden fruit."
"No." His long legs trembled violently and he continued to back away.
"Don't turn your eyes away, Torne. Look. Look at what I'm doing." She eased the panties below the hairy triangle. The dark pussy-curls were thick and inviting. He could see the beginning of her cunt-lips at the point where the hair ducked between her slender thighs.
The bulge at his crotch was enormous. Torne continued to move toward the door of the bedroom, trying to retreat with dignity.
"Put your hand down there, Torne," she whispered. "Touch my pussy."
"No, Missy!" He bared his teeth like an angry, snarling animal.
"Help me, Torne," she said. "Help me, and I'll be good to you."
"No!"
"Take me anyway, Torne," she said. "Rape me if you like."
"My God," he groaned.
Desperate, Karen grabbed for his groin. Torne wheeled around before she could touch him and fled down the stairs.
Karen sat trembling on the edge of the bed, staring morosely at her own belly. She felt lost and humiliated. Perhaps she wasn't very pretty at all. She'd offered herself to the big black and he had refused her. It would have been so simple if he'd reacted differently. Once he'd made love to her, he would have had to flee the mansion and the wrath of Vincent Kingston. She could have just walked to freedom.
"Oh, shit!" She felt like crying. She silently cursed her useless tits and her ineffective pussy. Her panties still rested below her cunt-mound. She studied the dark curls with disdain.
Dear God. She could feel the desire, the need for a cock's penetration between her legs.
She had offered herself for a cause, and she'd become aroused in the process. She'd ended up wanting Torne more than he had wanted her. Why? Torne wasn't really that attractive. He had nothing for her. Nothing except that huge, magnificent prick that she had never seen in the flesh.
"Oh!" she cried out her frustration as she jammed a finger between her legs and against her swollen clitoris. "Uh. Uh. Uh! Wantonly, she frigged her love-button until her hot eyes went blank with relief.