Chapter 7
Frieda got home just in time to see her family pulling out of the drive. She parked in front of the house and ran over to her brother's backing car. Brian stopped short of the street, stuck his head out and smiled a hello.
God, she thought, feeling her clit beginning to swell again, I wonder if my mother ever guessed she's raised a nympho? "Hey, where are you going?" she asked, seeing that Brian, Betty and her mother were bent on another excursion.
"Good movie in town. We'd thought we'd take it in. Want to come?" Brian asked.
Frieda looked at her brother, and her resolve to search the desk tonight for Max's books almost disappeared. But she promised herself that she'd find out as soon as she could whether or not he was the man Bill and his squad were looking for. She'd just have to pass up Brian's company tonight.
"No thanks, I'm pretty tired. I'll just get on to bed."
"How was your visit?" Betty asked from the other side of the front seat. Frieda wanted to give her a clue as to what she had discovered, just in case something happened to her tonight, without alarming her mother. After all, to be fair, Max could be innocent.
"Oh, the usual kind of small talk when two people haven't seen each other for a while. Oh, by the way, I found out that Bill thinks he knows Max."
"Professionally?" Betty said jokingly. Frieda detected that behind the laugh was an honest question. Well, she'd use the same technique.
"Oh, sure. I think I'll try to find out tonight." She bent down to look at Betty, who flashed her a warning to be careful with her eyes. Frieda glanced at her mother in the back seat, who had been frowning during the last part of the conversation. "Well, have a good time," she chirped as she started walking toward the house.
"Max left early tonight. He left Tommy at home, so I guess you'll have company tonight," her mother called out as the car backed out the drive and pulled away down the road.
As Frieda walked into the kitchen, she heard the television going full-blast. She walked quietly to the doorway of the living room and saw Tommy seated cross-legged three feet from the colored screen. Thank God! she thought, relieved. I can look for those things without worrying about making up a story for Tommy.
She walked to the den on tiptoe and went to the desk. He's probably locked it, she thought, but he doesn't know that Father had an extra set of keys made just in case he lost the first. She turned and began walking quietly over to the trophy case at the opposite end of the room. "Ouch! That damned chair!" she said as she accidentally banged into a heavy wooden Mexican-style recliner. Frieda held her breath to see if Tommy had heard her. No, she could hear him clapping as the program droned on on the TV. I could turn the lights on, but better keep them off just in case, she thought as she groped her way across the room to the large glass case. In the darkness she made out the large gold trophy with the words "Champion Bowler" inscribed on the front of its base, the prize her dad had won three months before he was killed in that auto accident.
Frieda sighed deeply, then slid the glass door open and reached up to take the trophy cup down. The keys should be taped underneath, she said to herself as she ran her fingers over the felt-covered base. She found them...all five of them! Now, if only Max hadn't changed the locks. She didn't think he had, but she didn't put anything past him. Closing the case, Frieda groped her way back to the desk and tried the large key in the lock of the top drawer. Oh God, please, please, make it work. She gave some pressure to the right side of the key and felt the lock spring open.
Frieda sighed in relief and drew open the drawer. There it was, the ledger she'd seen Max writing in the time she'd walked in unannounced, and there were other things in there, too...what looked like other ledger books, letters, small, rectangular portfolios. Frieda picked them up nervously and carried them over to the doorway where some light from the living room made it possible for her to see what was in them.
She opened the large ledger book and started reading down a page that looked like a tally of accounts. It didn't take her too long to figure out that they were the reports of a whorehouse, money accounts, and the dates ran up to yesterday! Then Max was the one Bill was looking for. Frieda thumbed through the other books quickly and saw that they were more of the same, only of earlier dates.
She opened the remaining drawers and took out other papers Max had stashed away. There were letters to people in Los Angeles and New York about drug shipments coming in from all parts of the world. So, he's in this up to his ass, Frieda said to herself, smiling. Now she had him! He had tried to corner her, but it would be her turn to put the finger on him. He'd be so busy sweating about the charges Bill would file against him that he'd probably forget anything he had on her, Betty and Brian.
She decided to take some of the older letters and ledgers to Bill, leaving the more recent ones in the desk just in case Max should come back before she got a chance to get out.
The pictures! They must be in here too! Frieda thought as she started up the stairs. She was going to go back down and search for them, but decided first to hide what she had under her mattress to be safe.
When Frieda came back down the stairs, she thought that she'd better have a back-up plan just in case something went wrong and she didn't get a chance to see Bill. From the living room, Frieda still heard the television set blaring away. As she walked to the doorway she saw Tommy still sitting cross-legged directly in front of the tube, staring intently at the screen.
"Tommy?" she called out. He spun around and, seeing Frieda, and gurgled happily. "Want to play a game? Frieda wants to play a nice game." He jumped up, clapped his hands and ran over to her, pinning her arms behind her back and pumping and grinding his thighs against Frieda's. That wasn't the game she had in mind.
"No, no, bad boy. Do you want me to tell Max?"
Those words had the desired effect on him. He dropped his hands and stepped back, whimpering.
"That's all right," she said reassuringly. "Now, it's like Hide-And-Seek. But I'm playing it with Max."
He looked puzzled, knowing in his childlike mind that Frieda hated Max.
"That's right. I hid some things from him. Now, when he comes back, no matter what he says or does, don't tell or show him anything. All right?"
Tommy nodded quickly.
"And if I shouldn't be here, or if something happens, take Betty to my bed and show her the things I hid from Max. They're some books and letters, and I put them under my mattress. Show Betty. Understand?"
Tommy nodded again.
"Now go back and watch television." Frieda realized that Betty wouldn't understand exactly what all those letters and ledgers meant, so she went back upstairs to write her some brief instructions as to what they were and what to do with them.
Finishing the note, she stuck it on top of the ledger, pulling the bedspread carefully over the protruding books. Frieda ran down the stairs, noticing that the television was still on. She was glad that Tommy was back to his program, and walked quietly to the den.
As she approached the desk, she saw that the top drawer was open. Funny, she thought as she approached it, I thought I closed it. Maybe Tommy...
Before she could finish her thought Frieda heard the floor squeak directly behind her. She spun around and saw Max towering over her, his hand raised. She started to cry out, then everything went black.
It seemed like hours had passed before Freida came to. "Oooh," she moaned, opening her eyes to semidarkness. She felt cold and damp, and realized that she was in the basement, stripped naked. Something was wrong. Her hands were tied together and stretched behind her head tightly. Tilting her head back as far as she could, Frieda saw a rope leading from her wrists to one of the concrete supports in the center of the basement. Gradually clearing her mind, Frieda realized that her legs were also tied, but each one separately. They were stretched out straight and high above her head so that her thighs and ass were raised high off the basement floor. Her back ached, and she wondered what had happened. Oh yes, the desk, the open drawer, and Max standing behind her with his hand raised. Her head ached terribly. He must have struck her with something, dragged her downstairs, stripped her and tied her up. But what for?
Before she had a chance to reflect any further she heard a sharp laugh and felt a rigid finger stab suddenly into her cunt from behind. Frieda cried out in pain and fear.
"How do you feel, baby?" Frieda recognized Max's voice.
"What do you think you're doing? If you think you can get away with this..." she began, but was drowned out before she could finish the sentence.
"Nobody's home but Tommy, and he didn't even hear me come in. Just what the fuck were you doing in the desk. How did you get in it without breaking the locks?"
"You're so smart, you figure it out."
"Don't get smart with me, bitch," Max hissed. Frieda gasped as she felt the toe of his boot press dowi. slightly into her soft cunt. "Now, unless you want to be cleaning shoe polish from your twat, tell me what you were doing in the desk."
"The pictures!" she cried out. "I was looking for those pictures you took of us." She felt the boot pull out of her cunt. Thank God! Frieda had no doubt that Max would have shoved his whole foot in, heel included, until he was satisfied.
"Didn't find them, did you?" he said triumphantly.
Frieda smiled inwardly. So, he didn't notice the ledgers and letters missing. Good; at least they'll make it to the authorities. Frieda's thoughts were interrupted by a strange low sound she didn't recognize.
"What's that?" she asked nervously. "Sound familiar?"
Frieda listened again, then recognized the sound of a dog growling. At first she couldn't understand why a dog was down there; then she suddenly realized that the dog was near her upturned cunt, and that growling wasn't one of anger but of sexual desire. Good God! Max was going to make the dog fuck her!
Frieda could see what was going to happen and she began to scream. She never asked Max for anything, but she began to plead for pity, begging him not to do it, promising him anything if he'd takke the dog away.
"Dog? Dog? Sorry, honey, but I've got two of them down here."
Two! Oh Christ! Frieda began to toss in her bonds, but all she could do was slap her bare ass against the concrete floor, exciting the dogs further. She raised her head and saw Max was scratching the first dog's ears with his left hand while running his right hand back and forth on the German shepherd's muscular belly. The dog was developing a hard-on, thanks to the massage.
"Don't worry. You're not gonna get it yet. I've got a few things I want to try out first."
Max came at her, his mouth twisted in a fleshy snarl, his eyes glassy and wide like a madman's. Frieda saw that his cock was hard, throbbing. It looked like a short thick bullet about to pierce her exposed cunt. She wished he would rape her and get it over with, but he was having the time of his life taunting her. Leaning heavily against her upturned thighs, he reached forward and grabbed her tits, kneading and pinching them roughly while he clutched the thick forest of pubic hair between her legs. His fingers worked slowly, though roughly through the pussy hair, spreading the lips of her quivering cunt until he found the soft flesh of her clitoris. He pinched it and rubbed it until it stood up involuntarily from the rough teasing.
"See, you like it like this, you bitch," he hissed.
Frieda couldn't say anything. She knew that her clit seemed to have a mind of its own at times, and tried to bring it under control. She writhed under Max's manipulation, moaning and trying to avoid his painful fingering, but he just pushed harder until his finger slipped wetly into the moist, hot cavern between her legs. She could feel the walls of her cunt cling tightly around his finger, and he teased it slowly within her, trying to force cunt juice from her. He wanted her to be wet and open when he fucked her.
But Frieda resisted Max's prodding, remaining tight as he tried to pry her wide open. She felt him desperately work his fingers around and around, up and down inside her tight cunt. She couldn't get away from him, but she continued to toss from side to side, jerking her hands painfully on the rope. She wanted to be sick; Frieda couldn't stand the thought of Max's old cock ramming inside her cunt again.
"You're not gonna give in, are you?" Max said disgustedly.
Frieda smiled. For the first time she wasn't giving in to him. It was the beginning of the end for...for who? For him, certainly, but maybe for her too.
"Well, you've got to take it, baby, not me," Max whispered hoarsely as he braced for a fast penetration.
Frieda clenched her teeth, bracing for Max's sudden attack. It came with a vengeance.
"OHHHH!" Frieda cried out, her cunt stinging with pain. She was dry as a bone, and her stepfather's cock was like a fist up her cunt.
"Feel good?" he moaned, pumping slowly at first, then increasing his speed. Frieda stayed dry, but her cunt was moistened by the steady stream of pre-cum that leaked from his cockhead. She began to wonder if getting fucked by the dogs wouldn't be better than this.
Frieda was slow to realize that Max was fiddling around with something near her asshole while he was still pumping his prick in and out of her ravaged cunt.
"Always felt that every hole ought to be filled up," Max said sneeringly.
Frieda felt something cold and smooth sliding up her right asscheek toward her exposed shithole. "What are you doing?"
"I've just got one cock, baby, but I'm holding on to another one down here."
Oh Jesus! A dildo...up her ass! Before she could think any further, Max buried the giant tip of the plastic cock deep into her puckered asshole with a rough shove.
"UUUHHH!" Frieda moaned. She thought her belly would split apart. Spasms of hot, searing, electric like pain shot from her ass through her cunt, racking her body as Max twisted the dildo in deeper.
"I don't even have the full head buried yet, and you're already complaining." Max tried to push it in deeper, but Frieda's ass resisted too strongly. He tried twisting it in like a screw going into a wall.
"No, please, Max, no more!" she pleaded in short gasps, but Max continued to shove it in. Frieda felt her sphincter muscles stretch until she felt they'd break apart. Max slid the dildo in all the way, then pulled it out about halfway, and shoved ut roughly back in. He repeated the process several times, alternating the ass thrusts with the pumping he was giving his stepdaughter in her cunt.
Oh God, she could feel his muscles stiffening and his breath was coming in short gasps and now he was slamming that dildo into her ass like a steam piston that was mashing her bowels into a brown pulp. He cried out, and Freida knew that he was shooting his filthy wad into her cunt.
Max nearly fell to the floor with exhaustion. He seemed to be in a trance, but the dogs' growling brought him to his senses. He reached out, his cock stall dangling out of his pants, and grabbed the first German shepherd by the collar and brought him forward to Frieda's cum- and shit-smeared ass. The dog immediately placed its nose against Frieda's ass and sniffed; a second or two later it was nosing her pubic hair.
Oh God, God! Frieda thought, writhing in disgust and terror in her bondage. She moaned in fear, and the dog pulled away in surprise. Frieda thought she had an answer to her problem, and started moaning and screaming. If she could keep the dog on guard, she might be able to cure it of its passion. But Max had other plans. He hit the dog roughly across the head, then brought his right hand down across her tender cunt. Frieda shrieked in pain.
"If you don't want any more of that, you'll stay quiet, hear me?"
Frieda didn't answer, but just moaned again, this time in earnest. This time the dog either misunderstood or didn't care. It walked up to her, placed its nose between her spread thighs, and began to push it against her cunt. Frieda screamed, but Max and the dog didn't notice.
"Faster, boy," Max encouraged, fingering his cock until it became stiff again. The dog began wagging its tail as it licked Frieda's cunt. Her ass quivered, and that seemed to entice the dog further. He seemed to like that combination of shit and cum that leaked down her ass. The shepherd's pink tongue moved back and forth on her cuntlips, with an occasional lapping as far back as her asshole. Frieda felt her body contracting in a series of dry heaves. Good God, she thought as she tried to fight back the fluid that was rising from her belly. This can't be real! It can't be happening to me!
But it was happening to her. The dog was trying to force its wet, cold nose into Frieda's cunt, and she was shuddering with each contact of muzzle and membrane. The dog seemed irritated when it was unable to push its nose as deep into her cunt as it had intended to, and it snapped at Frieda's outer cuntlips. The pain seared her body, and she cried out.
"Okay, boy," Max said quietly. His eyes were dilated again with lust, but this time he was a voyeur, watching a dog fuck his stepdaughter, a disgusting act in any man's language. Almost immediately after this second command, the dog pulled its muzzle from between Frieda's thighs and leaped on her upturned legs and asscheeks, mounting her with the obvious purpose of fucking her. Frieda felt the hot fur brush against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and her flesh crawled. Between her bleeding and quivering cuntlips she could feel something pointy, something that was dripping some kind of hot fluid on her pussy, and she guessed that it was the dog's prick.
Frieda screamed as the dog's cock pushed against her cuntlips. A second later, the knotted prick was deep inside her, and Frieda hung limply from the ropes. She nearly fainted with disgust as she felt the animal's cock plunging in and out of her wounded cunt, felt the hot saliva dripping from the dog's panting mouth as he increased his rhythm with every passing second.
The dog thrust a few times, ejaculated, and withdrew. The dog that had just fucked her walked around in a circle, its tail wagging, and then stopped next to Frieda's left thigh, lifted its leg, and took a piss.
"Good boy, good boy," Max crooned, petting the dog gently on the head. "Now, for the second one. You'll get used to it. You'll have to, baby." Frieda wondered what he meant. Why should he say that? What did he have in mind? Oh shit, not again, she thought as she felt the second dog's nose poking its way in her cum-saturated cunt. The bleeding had stopped, but her cuntlips were still sore. Any pressure made her wince in pain, but the dog didn't seem to notice. The animal licked off some of the first dog's cum, then mounted Frieda.
She twisted and turned, trying to throw the dog off her legs. But the animal was determined. He started to growl in anger, and Frieda decided that it might be too dangerous to try to fight him off any further. She relaxed, resigned to her fate as the dog resumed pumping away at her cunt.
It took him longer than the first, but finally his cock swelled, then spat its load of cum deep into Frieda's protesting and sore cunt. She moaned in revulsion as she felt wad after wad of animal jism spatter against the aching walls of her cunt.
Finally, it was over. She felt the animal leave her legs, deciding, she guessed, not to piss on her thighs. Maybe that was a sign that he liked her more than the first one did. Oh shit! What am I doing? Trying to compare animal lovers?
"Not a bad show, Frieda," Max said appreciatively, crouching down next to her face. "I'm glad you're not one of those whimpering or submissive bitches. We can really use you."
We? she thought. Is he going to use me in his operation? At first Frieda cringed at the thought of working as a whore, especially for him. Then she thought again. Wouldn't it be better to have someone testify in court who had firsthand information of his racket? Some of the other girls might get on the stand, but wouldn't a girl who was forced into his scheme be better believed than a seasoned hooker? And his own stepdaughter? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, and she could help. Anyway, it couldn't be any worse than what she'd gone through already.
"I don't want you giving me any trouble," he said, coming at her with something in his hand. "What is that?"
"Just a tranquilizer to keep you quiet until I get you there."
Frieda winced as she felt the needle slip under the skin of her right arm.
"You'll be feeling sleepy soon. Think pleasant thoughts. You'll need them later on," he sneered, walking up the kitchen stairs.
Pleasant thoughts, she said to herself dreamily. The tranquilizer was already beginning to have its effect on her. She thought of Brian, his tousled blond hair swinging in his eyes as his hot balls dapped against her ass while he pounded his cock deep into her cunt. She thought of Bill, his long, thin prick wedging past her moist cuntlips, gently probing its way deep into her snatch as she felt her clit swell and throb deliriously.
Ohhh, yesss! Fuck me, Bill, fuck me, Brian! Oh God. I'm sooo sleepy. . . Frieda felt herself slipping gently, ever so gently into a deep deep...like being dragged down into a warm whirlpool. She didn't notice the sound of whimpering coming through the half-opened basement window. Tommy knelt there, staring at her bound, naked body, sniveling uncontrollably as be clenched his fists angrily.