Chapter 3
"Thank you for the money, Carl, it will help. I'm afraid the defense used up most of our savings."
"Don't mention it, Jill. As long as I own the business, any share of profit that would have gone to Mac goes to you. I know he would have done the same if things had worked out the other way."
"Yes, I guess he would have if things had worked out the other way, Carl."
The plays on words were making it difficult for Jill to carry on with the act, but she reminded herself of what she was doing and concen trated on sounding like the bereaved widow, thankful for handouts from a friend. Above all, she warned herself, I must never let him find out what I'm doing until I have what I want.
"When do you plan on leaving?" The man asked the question in a way that indicated he hoped she would be leaving soon.
Knowing that he had committed the murder for which her husband died, Jill could understand how her presence must be a continuing reminder to him.
"Well, I must move out of the place where I'm staying. They have been awfully kind, but they just don't have the room. Strange as it sounds, I think I want to stay in town for a while though."
"That does surprise me." He looked puzzled. "After what happened here, I'd think you would want to get away as fast as you can."
"In one way, I do, Carl. And yet, it would seem like running, as if I were ashamed. Maybe it's crazy, but I want to stay here for a while. I want to show these people that I believe in my husband's innocence."
As she crossed her legs, Jill saw his eyes follow the movement. She wondered how often he had looked at his niece that way before he got carried away to the point of raping and murdering her.
"I guess you know everybody in this town, Carl," she recrossed her legs with studied carelessness, "perhaps you could suggest a place I could stay for a while."
"Why bless you, Jill. You don't think, I'd let you stay with just anybody at all, do you?
We have lots of room here and this is where you stay."
"That's so kind of you, but I don't want to be in the way."
"That's just a part of Southern hospitality, little girl. This is your home as long as you want it to be."
"I know I should decline, Carl, but I just can't bring myself to do it. This is such a lovely home." Jill reached under her skirt to scratch an imaginary itch on her thigh. She guessed that he could see the top of one nylon.
Did you call her 'little girl,' just before you raped her? Jill asked the question silently. What did you say when you tore off her bra to expose those firm, young breasts? Did you say all the gentlemanly things while you were shredding her tight little panties?
Did you say soothing words to her while you were parting her thighs to expose the flower of her virginity to your animal cravings? Did she scream much while you were raping her or did you kill her first and then rape her dead body?
I've got to stop this, Jill warned herself. If I keep saying these things to myself, the hate will begin to show in my voice. I must not let that happen. I must not do a single thing to make him suspicious. Show him a little more thigh, he likes that. The inner voice advised her.
That's it, left over right, raise it slowly, bring the skirt up nice and high, hold for a minute, make sure the skirt rides up a little. Don't let him know you are aware of his hungry glance.
She knew that Carl had seen enough to be hooked into insisting that she stay with them indefinitely. She turned off the show then. In a little while, he drove her to the house to pick up her belongings.
In the car, he patted her on the knee lightly as he insisted that she feel like one of the family.
Go ahead and pat, you sick bastard, but you are not going to get what you expect. I intend to make sure that you keep on hoping. It's a part of destroying you, tearing you apart until you get weak enough to tell the truth about the murder for which my husband died.
"It's going to be so difficult to adjust to not being a wife."
"I can understand that, Jill. You're a healthy young woman. Feel free to talk to me about any of your problems."
"Thank you, I'll remember that." Again Jill was unable to resist the game of saying things under her breath.
I'll bet you get your kicks that way, you sick man. I'll "bet I could drive you right out of your skull telling you that I'm getting hot and hungry for a man between my thighs. I have this terrible gnawing here, Carl, may I please take my panties down and show you? Would you please do something about it?
Of course, my dear child, her mind played his reply. Here let me slip them down for you. My, you are a pretty little girl. You feel all nice and smooth and warm. I'll show you how to make those bad feelings go away. Take off all the rest of your clothes and I'll make you feel good all over. Don't you laugh at me, though.
Is that how it happened, you beast? Did you try to talk her into taking her shorts down for you? Did you try to get your hand inside her panties? Did you take your clothes off Did she see your fat old belly and laugh at you? Is that why you killed her? Because she laughed at you?
When they arrived back at Carl's house, his wife was there. The woman tried to make Jill feel at home, but there was a nervousness about her. Could she, Jill wondered, know or suspect the real story about the rape murder? Does she know that her husband is a rapist and murderer of young girls? How must it be to live with that?
It was pure hell to see my husband getting ready to die, but how much worse must it be to know that a husband has raped and killed a girl and permitted another man to die for it. Your sorrow is greater than mine, Lucy. I wonder if you'll help me put him in the electric chair for the two murders of which he is guilty?
Just before dinner, the two children came in. They were hardly children. Amanda, at nineteen was all woman with a body calculated to turn heads. The fact that she was aware of it, made her even more attractive. Jackson, a year younger, was more man than boy.
Despite the fact that all concentrated on making the guest comfortable, nerves were on edge all through the meal. Before they finished eating, Jill found the direction she was looking for.
As a close knit family unit, they were unassailable. If she was to get Carl, she would have to upset the entire family. She would have to plant suspicion and doubt and guilt among them.
Jackson would be easy. In spite of his size and physical maturity, he looked uncomfortable in her presence. Jill guessed that he was either completely inexperienced sexually, or terribly unsure of himself.
As she decided to start the campaign by seducing him, she felt a twinge of guilt. After all, she told herself, it is his father I'm after, why hurt him?
She remembered her infant son at home then and the guilt feeling passed. That baby has been deprived of a father, why should I show more pity to this boy? If I am going to break this family down, I have to sow discord, I have to destroy the family. So be it. You, Jackson, will be first. You will taste the things your father is panting for right now.
But how about the others? How could she get to Lucy and Amanda? Jill remembered her college days. Living in an all female atmosphere, the girls had drifted casually, without knowing it, into forbidden areas of sexual gratification without male help.
Initiation had been a logical starting point. The ceremony involved the classic spankings. The froshies were understandably nervous about being undressed. When they reached bra and panties, they frequently needed the help of others.
Anxious, nervous palms slapped at nude buttocks then. The girls who held the pained victim found illogical places to grasp, felt the excitement of naked skin.
The rite of initiation drifted away from sim pie spanking into the area of forbidden touches. Soon the seniors too, were nude. The ceremony became more complex.
"Unworthy one, because I am very kind, I shall give you a choice. Bend over the chair for another spanking on your bare bottom or pay the price another way ... kneel before me ... more ... moremoremore."
"Welcome to the sorority, sister of the soft skin."
Later, in the privacy of rooms, aroused feelings grew again. Spanked skin was soothed with creams and oils; lush young bodies were bared more willingly this time; touches were more gentle, kisses more ardent.
Special ceremonies would be held then with classic Greek terminology to cover games played by women long before Greece was.
Even before marriage, Jill gave up the girl games. There had been no shame, it was a part of growing up. When some of the sorority girls who clung to the game into womanhood asked Jill to join them, she declined.
There was no condemnation in her attitude, it was just that they were the games of awakening womanhood without men. She had her man now and did not need it.
Looking back a few years, Jill recalled a reunion at her home involving eight of the old sorority. While she and one other refused to participate, the others relived the old initiation routine.
The buttocks were slightly older now, but still sleek and firm as they arched to receive the ceremonial spanks. The breasts were a lit tie fuller as they joggled, but the tips still showed arousal as the game progressed.
While Jill and the other non-participant poured drinks, the game moved on to the same old conclusion. This time, there were six women locked in a writing, naked chain of heated bodies on the rug.
Although Jill was forced to admit that the sight of the writhing nudity did arouse her, she felt no urge to take part in their game.
Just thinking of it, Jill felt a twinge of passion and pressed her knees together under the table. Looking at the lush figure of the woman-girl, she sensed that she could be directed into the strange world of lesbos.
In order to break down the man, it would be necessary to corrupt the entire family. She knew she would have to build up tensions which could not be withstood. I have already paid my price, Mac has paid his, they will pay theirs, she told herself.
How about Lucy, she wondered? The woman wore a vague look of hunger. It could be, Jill told herself, that a man sick enough to rape and kill his own niece would not be man enough to satisfy his wife. Perhaps the same game that she would use on Amanda would work on the woman.
At thirty-eight, Lucy still had a good body. She was light of breast and buttock, but it was a good figure. If she played it just right, Jill told herself, the woman too could be drawn into the evil net she was planning to bring Carl to justice.
If Jill had been another woman, she would wonder what Mac would think of all this, what he would say about women, his woman, using her body as a weapon. But being Jill, it did not pose a problem. In life, she had loved her husband and he had loved her.
Death had ended all of that for them. To her, death was the end of everything. Life after death, to Jill, was a ploy used by clergymen to keep the collection baskets nicely filled.
The meal ended finally and they adjourned to the big recreation room. Jill could feel the tension like a charge of electricity. She knew then that her plan, vague as it was, would work. Somewhere along the way, she would find the direction it needed.
Raising her nylon sheathed leg with just the right touch of abandon, she crossed it over the other. This time, Carl was not alone in watching what she offered. Jackson glued his eyes to her thighs too. The wife and mother may not have noticed, but Amanda did.
All through the evening, Jill divided her attention between keeping conversation alive and planning the first moves of her weird campaign.
Has anyone else, she wondered, ever set out to seduce an entire family? The thought made it difficult to concentrate on conversation, but she managed somehow.
As the evening wore on, Amanda was the first to leave the group. When she excused herself, Jill rose to bid her good night. As they exchanged smiles, Jill felt a tingle of excitement with the certain knowledge that she would be able to get to the girl.
Jackson, she knew, was already in the bag. Amanda was almost as sure. That left only Lucy, proud, beautiful wife of the prosperous, dignified rapist. There would be a way to get her too. It was just a matter of time and concentration before she too came into the web.
That left Carl as the only holdout and that was the way Jill wanted it. Let him wait and want, she thought, it was important to her plan that he stay that way. Let him sweat, let him feel the tension build around him, let him think he was going to make out, but each time he came close, the door would be slammed shut just ahead of him.
Mac had lost and I have lost, Carl, Jill swore under her breath, but you have not won. You stand to be a very big loser before I finish with you.