Chapter 2
Lorene Turker's well-rounded figure drooped with discouragement as she stacked the dirty dishes into the dishwasher behind the counter in Ernie's Cafeteria. Her long, dark blonde hair made a lovely frame for her fine features, but her light blue eyes were clouded with tears. Her old familiar trouble was trailing her again-men couldn't keep their hands off her attractive body.
The fat, mustached face of Ernie Snyder, her new boss, had leered at her knowingly as he patted her voluptuous asscheeks behind the carried trays into the kitchen. Before three hours were gone, he had already carried trays into the kitchen. Before three hours wer gone, he had already backed her up against the kitchen wall and was feeling around lewdly for her cunt under her uniform. Luckily his frigging attempts had been interrupted by the bakery delivery man.
By mid-afternoon, Lorene realized she wouldn't be able to stay here. There was a lull after the noon rush, and during that period Ernie tried to fuck her three times. The last time he caught her in the storageroom and she practically had to fight her way out. Now, she was waiting for only one thing-her first day's wage. She needed the money.
Back in Cedarville High School when she had graduated, last summer, she had been named as the girl most likely to succeed. The boy named as most likely to succeed had gone to college. What had happened to her had been rather horrible. Her classmates had been wrong. She would never succeed, but she might become notorious.
He came into the kitchen, scowled at her. A big, heavy man, pot-bellied, bald, the shadow of his beard darkening the lower part of his face. His words came out in a growl. "What's the matter with you, anyhow?"
"I just don't want to fuck for you or anyone else," Lorene answered.
"Maybe my cock is too common for you, huh?"
"No. I think you're a fine man."
"Hell, you been fucked plenty before," Ernie said. "Don't know why you're so damned snotty. I got a damned good notion to give you to Rudy."
"Rudy?"
"Sure. He's always on the look for a new cunt. They never last long with Rudy."
Lorene didn't know what he was talking about. She didn't know who Rudy was. She didn't care. She would last through the next hour-if she could-collect her money, and move on. Maybe she'd find a better job in the morning.
"Nope, I won't give you to Rudy," Ernie said, and he grinned. "Think I'd rather keep you myself. Want to make an extra five bucks?"
Lorene's eyes narrowed. "How?"
"Work through the supper hour until about eight."
She hesitated. Four and a half hours more, for five dollars. There would be more tip money, too. She was tired, but she could last until eight. If Ernie would only stop trying to frig her....
She dried her hands. "Give me the five dollars now."
"Why don't you trust me."
"I just want to feel the money ... that's all. Five dollars now, another five dollars at eight."
He dug out a roll of bills, found a five, held it out. Lorene took it and as her hand closed around it, the man lunged forward. His beefy arms wrapped around her, held her tight. He pushed his face against her, his mouth against hers. He tried to force his tongue past her lips. He could manage that much, but he couldn't move her teeth.
Lorene twisted, jerked. She got one arm free, started clawing at the side of his face-and that was too much. He let her go, raised his hand to touch his scratched face. "Damned bitch," he grated.
"I just want to be left alone," Lorene said.
Ernie's eyes were blazing but he didn't move toward her again. Then he looked around toward the front of the restaurant-and he must have remembered the rush he faced tonight. He glanced around at Lorene again, and said, "All right, anything you say. Stay until eight o'clock. I won't touch you again."
In the rear of the kitchen, Christy Huggins, the Negro cook, put down the knife he had been cleaning. "One of these days," he said under his breath. "One of these days." He tested the edge of the knife, looked bitterly at Ernie's retreating back.
Lorene took a steadying breath.
Christy Huggins edged toward her. "You better go while you can, ma'am. That man Ernie-he is no good."
"Why do you stay her, Christy?"
The man grinned. "I am black and I am a man. He doesn't bother me. I can use his money."
At the tubs, Lorene got busy washing dishes, rinsing them, and stacking them up to dry. She kept busy, but in spite of that she looked backward at one of the shadows which followed her. It was shocking how easily she could fall into the past, turn the time backward, look at what had happened. Her parents had died abruptly at the end of the summer. They had left her destitute. This really hadn't bothered her. She was young, strong. She could take care of herself. She had said that to Carl Bowman, who had wanted to marry her-and he was rather relieved. Actually, Carl had planned to go to the university. He was there-lucky Carl!
But what had happened to her?
Aunt Emily, her only relative, had said to her, "Lorene, why don't you stay with us for a while?"
Jud Stebbins, Aunt Emily's husband, a quiet, retiring man!
A good man-but rotten all the way through!
He had smiled at her and nodded. "Yes, child, we'd like you to stay with us-as long as you wish."
He had sounded very gentle, very kind. A large, slow-moving man, heavy, thick-bodied.
Aunt Emily wanted her to do the housework, the mending, the cleaning, the cooking. Jud had his own ideas of what he wanted, and they were shocking. He caught her one morning in the barn, grabbed her, and in the twinkling of an eye had his hand down the neck of her dress, and was mauling her tits. His breath was warm and sour and he smothered her face with slobbering kisses. He had begun pulling up her dress and feeling for her cunt when she escaped.
Three days later a neighbor woman dropped by to pick up Aunt Emily, and take her to a Baptist Mission Society meeting. Jud was working in one of the fields across the creek. Lorene noticed him there as she drew more water from the well. It was a relief that he was that far away-and busy. But less than fifteen minutes later she heard a sound at the door, and looked around and saw him coming in. A huge, sweating man-grinning at her-his eyes too bright-too excited.
Lorene stood up. It ran through her mind that the thing to do was jerk away, streak for the front door, get outside and keep going. But her legs wouldn't work, she couldn't move, she seemed paralyzed by the fear which had gripped her. She tried to tell herself that Jud wouldn't hurt her, that after all he was the husband of Aunt Emily. She tried to remember how kind and good he was. But he really wasn't good and kind and she knew it. And it would not bother him that she was a relative of his wife.
Her legs could finally move. She backed away. "I ... I ... what do you want?"
"You know what I want." His laugh was low. "Never been much of a question, has there? You'll fuck me, baby-fuck me."
She kicked at him, clawed at him-and then she started screaming. There was no one nearby who could have heard her. If she had thought about it she would have realized that. The screaming couldn't have helped-but it seemed to anger the man. He hit her on the side of the head. Hard enough to knock her out.
Most likely she wasn't unconscious very long-three or four minutes. But during those few minutes Jud must have carried her to the bedroom, and stripped off her clothes. She had a vague memory of that happening. He must also have taken off his own clothes for as she gradually awoke she realized he was on the bed with her, holding her in his arms.
"Wake up, baby. Wake up. I didn't mean to hurt you, but you started screaming. I don't like screaming."
She didn't answer. She really didn't listen to him. She was just realizing where she was-and where he was-and that her clothes were gone and his, too. His body, pulled against her, was warm. It smelled of perspiration. A rough, calloused hand was on one of her tits. One of his arms was around her, a hard muscled arm. It was tougher than steel.
She was on the bed-on the far side away from the door.
She was nude and she was no match for his strength.
She couldn't have been in a more hopeless position.
He seemed to enjoy the wide sadistic streak in his personality. No, he wouldn't listen to her if she cried or if she begged. He would just be increasingly cruel.
He was talking again. "Wake up, baby. Wake up. We're wasting time. Isn't this nice? Wake up baby!"
"I'm awake," Lorene said.
"Awake! Well I'll be damned. No screaming?"
"I didn't mean to scream."
"I was thinking of Aunt Emily...."
"Forget her." The man laughed. "She don't give a damn about me, anyhow. But you and me, baby, we can go to town and fuck like crazy."
He rolled toward her, pulled her closer, and started kissing her, and at first the foul smell of his breath almost overwhelmed her. And then his kissing was too much, his thick lips jabbing against her mouth. Carl Bowman had kissed her, but she hadn't minded that from him.
Carl Bowman-what happened to him?
Would she ever see him again?
Probably not.
She suddenly forgot the kissing. Something was happening to her tits. Jud's rough and calloused hand had started mauling them but for some crazy reason she didn't mind. A strange, exciting feeling had started radiating from her breasts. That started warming her body. That tapped other nerves, started them vibrating. Even her heartbeat had picked up. She could feel its hard pounding.
Jud had moved his head. He had moved down on her breast, was doing something to her nipples with his lips. A sharp tingle ran over her body ... and another ... and another. She rolled to one side and then to the other. Her cunt started twitching. Her good, warm, exciting feelings were overwhelming the thoughts in her mind. Her emotions had taken charge of her vagina. Her pussy had become a bundle of sensations, reacting to Jud's huge bull-like prick, which he shoved brutally between her cuntlips and then up her vagina....
She couldn't lie still, Her cunt was moving-dancing on the bed. She was acting disgracefully, and she knew, but she couldn't seem to stop fucking up and down on his thick shaft as he thrust in and out of her cunt.
The seething storm seemed to blow her apart, as she felt his hot scum shooting into her writhing twat.
All her mounting tensions seemed to drain away ... vanish as her pussy shuddered in her orgasm under the onslaught of his ejaculating prick.
Jud was still working his cock in and out of her tight cunt, having his own "come", but she tried not to think about him, tried not to think of the way she had acted. That wasn't my fault, she was thinking. It was my pussy that was wrong-I couldn't control that. When you're being practically raped, you can't coast. Or if you do coast downward. I should have known that. When you coast, you coast downhill.
Jud pulled his cock out of her twat, rolled to the side, and gave a satisfied grunt. He made a brief comment. "Not bad for the first fuck-not bad at all."
Lorene said nothing. She was conscious of a smarting pain all through her vagina. What a horrible way to end her virginity. That would have been much better if she hadn't pushed Carl away. At least, Carl had said he loved her.
Jud grunted again, moved his hand, rested it on one of her breasts, "Gotta build up these tits of yours," he told her. "Don't worry. I know how to treat 'em."
"But Jud...."
He shook his head. "What the hell's the matter with you? We got all afternoon, ain't we? Emily won't get back until after five. Before then, I'll have screwed you three times-maybe four times. This here cock of mine is pretty damn good."
Lorene took a long, deep breath. She tried to make it a steadying breath. He wasn't through fucking her. He meant to frig her again ... and again ... and again....
He turned her, started mauling her breasts, and he said, "Baby, we're just getting started screwing. We got all afternoon. Don't know what we'll do about tomorrow, maybe III be waiting for you in the barn when you go out to gather the eggs. Lot of fun, sometimes tearing off a piece of cunt on the run. We're gonna try every single way of screwing! Everything. When you go to bed, sleep on the far side. Most likely, I'll join you. Emily sleeps like a log."
Her thoughts were interrupted by Ernie Snyder who came from the main part of the restaurant. He growled at her angrily. "Ain't you finished those damned dishes? The place is getting jammed."
"Come on," Ernie said. "Let's go to work."
By eight, the rush was over. At nine, the place would be closed. Lorene had expected to leave right after eight, but she didn't. Ernie got stubborn. He wouldn't pay up. "I got to work until nine, you might as well work until nine, too," he told her. And his grin was nasty.
"Our agreement was eight," Lorene said.
"Then I'm changing it-walk out now and you'll get nothing. Wait until nine and I might pay you-Might!"
Lorene had stiffened. "I want my five dollars. I worked for it. I intend to get it."
"Well talk about that-at nine," Ernie said.
"Then I'll wait until nine," Lorene said, "If I don't get my money then, I'll do something. I don't know what, but I'll do something."
He grinned-and went back to work.
Christy Huggins spoke to her. "He's a mean one. I wouldn't stay if I was you."
"He owes me five dollars," Lorene said.
"Five dollars isn't worth the trouble it can give you."
"But it's my five dollars we're talking about. I worked for it. I'm going to get it."
"He'll pay you in there," Christy said, and he pointed to the storeroom.
"Why in there?"
"You won't get out, cause I can tell he's got frigging on his mind. Do I have to spell out what'll happen?"
She turned away, turned toward the side door, but then she stopped. What about her five dollars? Ernie owed her five dollars. She walked back to one of the tables, picked up one of the knives. The blade was thin, razor sharp.
"What you doin' with that knife?" Christy asked.
"I'm just thinking," Lorene said.
"You better leave that knife alone."
Her lips tightened. "Christy, I want my five dollars. I mean to get it."
"It ain't worth it," Christy said gruffly.
Lorene didn't answer. She fingered the knife-and remembered Jud Stebbins!
He had fucked her for a month. No, he had fucked her more than a month, and during that time he shoved his cock into her almost any time he wanted. He came to her bed almost every night after Emily went to sleep. Sometimes he stayed almost until dawn. He frigged her in the barn-sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoons. And whenever Emily left to go to town or to a meeting, he really had a chance to hump her. He hurt her-and he loved to do that. He made her try new ways and positions of fucking, some of them horrible, revolting, unnatural. He did all sorts of perverted things to her cunt, tits and even her asshole, and sometimes, in spite of her own determination, she got worked up, fell a victim to her emotions, and wallowed in a bath of enjoyment.
She was two people-she was a slave, a captive, a cunt to be used-and she was a wanton, a hussy, a cunt who tasted the full sensuality of the flesh. Mostly though she was the slave. Mostly, she hated what happened. And finally one night she could take no more. Her breasts were bruised, swollen. That night, Jud had hurt her again, terribly and had laughed at her as his sperm dribbled from her asshole. He finally dozed.
There was a flat iron under her bed. She had put it there. She used it. One hard blow had crushed Jud's skull. He didn't even bleed very much.
"I think you better go," Christy said again. "It's gettin' along toward nine."
"I want my five dollars," Lorene said.
"No," Christy said. She shook her head. "No. Christy. If there's any....
She broke off, didn't finish her sentence. Up to now, during the past hour, Ernie had been shouting his orders over the serving shelf. This time, however, he came through the swinging doors and he said, "Everyone's gone, finally."
He stopped and mopped his face, glanced at Lorene then at Christy. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Ain't finished cleaning up," Christy said. "Forget it. Come in early tomorrow."
"Sure, boss. Sure," Christy said. And he started to get his coat.
He got his coat and hat and started for the side door.
Lorene spoke up. "When do I get my five dollars?"
"In just a minute," Ernie said, and he forgot about Christy, turned toward Lorene. "Want to show you something first-it's in the storeroom."
"I'm not interested in anything in the storeroom,"
"What the hell's the matter with you?"
"I just want my five dollars."
"Five dollars! Five dollars! Five dollars!" He was sneering the words. "All right-I'll bring you your five dollars. Got something else for you, too."
He started toward Lorene and he was grinning. His eyes had sharpened, too. He looked just like Jud Stebbins had looked when he came in from the fields after Aunt Emily had left. Hungry, and licking his lips-anticipating the fucking fun that was ahead. That was the look of a horny prick-pusher, closing in.
Lorene reached behind, to the table. She picked up the knife which was lying there, held it tightly held it out of sight.
"You and your damned five dollars," Ernie said. "You ain't worth it. There's place along the street where I can get a broad for free."
"I worked for the five dollars," Lorene said.
Ernie laughed. He reached into his pocket, took out a roll of bills, selected one and put the rest of the money away. He waved the bill he had saved in the air, and he said, "All right, here's your five dollars. I'm going to give that to you. And a little hot cock-for free!"
He was breathing fast, drooling at the mouth. He had probably been thinking of this all evening-thinking of getting her into the storeroom where he thrust his large cock into the warmth of her cunt. But she had been stubborn, unresponsive. She had balked him.
He was lunging at her now-two hundred pounds of weight, a good part of it muscle. She might have a chance to use her knife but she wasn't sure she could. Then, out of the corner of her eye she saw Christy Huggins. He had gone to get his coat and hat-he had started to leave-but he was still here. He had stopped, looked back. He had been listening to what had been said, he had been watching. And now he was taking a part in the action. He was driving this way, a meat cleaver in his hand.
"Scared of me, huh!" Ernie was crowing. "Scared of me! By damn you'd better be."
He reached out toward her and that was when the meat cleaver slicked into his head.
"You better get out of here," Christy said, "Just forget everything you saw."
She didn't move. She couldn't.
Christy stooped over her, dug into Ernie's pocket, found his roll of bills. Then he stood up, divided the money without counting it. "Half for you, half for me."
Lorene moistened her lips. "I just want my five dollars."
"Five dollars," Christy said. "Are you crazy?"
"Just five dollars," Lorene said.
Christy gave her five dollars. He put the rest of it in his pocket. "I can use every bit of this. I could use more. You better get going."
"Yes, I'd better go," Lorene said. But she didn't move, she didn't know where to go. She had no home-no room. All she owned in the world was what she was wearing, the money in her pocket, and a suitcase in a locker in the bus terminal.
Lorene turned and walked dazedly out of Ernie's Cafeteria forever.