Chapter 7
It was the day after the beach party that Lio presented herself to her high school counselor for a preview of her record before it was to be presented to Professor Don Haywood for his decision as to her worthiness for admission to Blair State.
Lio had left her counselor feeling deeply despondent. Although high, her marks left considerable doubt as to whether she would be admitted to the highly reputed college. In her entrance examinations, Lio had scored high in languages and the social sciences, but pathetically low in the physical sciences which were a necessary prerequisite for Blair admission. She left her counselor's office feeling more miserable than any time she had known during the four years she had lived in the United States.
Lio jumped into the small car she was allowed to use by her uncle, with whom she lived since arriving in Bay City. She drove quickly to her home at the far, eastern edge of the small town.
After she pulled the car into the drive and shut off the motor, Lio continued for a few minutes to sit behind the steering. She sighed deeply, then boosted her hips a bit, freeing her long, black hair which had somehow become lodged between her buttocks and the car seat. She breathed deeply. She thought of Blair State and her great desire to attend that college. She thought of her obligation to all her Pacific Island people, an obligation that drove her to a mad pursuit of success. And she knew that the success she must attain had to start with Blair State.
Her mind wandered. She thought of her friends at Bay City High. She wished that she was not different from them. But she was. She could not help it. It was her heritage. She could not attend school and college for the mere enjoyment of it. She had to use it for the success she was deemed to achieve. She breathed deeply, felt her breasts puff against the simple dress she wore. Then she looked at her bare legs which were exposed high to the thigh. She considered the odd yellow-brown color of them, that, and the narrow-eyed association that always accompanied any consideration of color and race. Lio did not object to her background of the mixed races who had commingled on warm, ocean islands generations before she was created. She was proud of her people, those who still existed and all those who had preceded her. Yet, there were things about her background, customs to which she still submitted, that sometimes made her wonder if all of her people's beliefs were right. She thought of her uncle, that yellow-skinned, middle-aged man with whom she lived. She shivered slightly. Sometimes she wished she could avoid her uncle, especially avoid all those old customs he still insisted upon. Lio looked at her uncle's house with a certain fear. But, she reminded herself that it was now also her home and that she must enter it, even if she often wished that she need not do so. And again she thought of Blair State, how it not only offered the education that was imperative to her, but how it also offered her escape from the customs of her people particularly those ancient rituals still practiced by her uncle.
Slowly, Lio left the car. She walked to the back of the house and entered it by the kitchen door.
The odor of freshly cooked herb-foods and incense greeted her, announcing that her uncle was already home from the import store he operated. She paused in the center of the kitchen and considered leaving the house, returning to school or finding someone to be with in order to have a brief respite form those things in which she would soon become involved. And again she wished that she was not different, that her life, which was secret, was not, but was instead like those of her friends-open, "Is that you, Lio?" a deep, male voice called from the adjoining room.
"Yes, Uncle, it is I."
"Fine. You're home from school early. Come in here, child"
Lio walked to the small dining room, then through it to the tiny study that adjoined it.
Her uncle turned from his desk when she paused in the doorway. She looked at him and smiled.
"Ah, I'm glad that you're home early, Lio," her uncle said. "I, too, returned early from the store, hoping that I would find you here."
"You wanted to see me, Uncle?" Lio questioned.
He grinned. His complexion was more yellowish than that of Lio, and he was quite tall and very heavily built. This effect, his coloring and size, made his grin seem somehow evil.
"Of course I wanted to see you," he said. "Don't I always?"
"Yes, Uncle."
"Have you been a good girl, Lio? Are you keeping away from the corruption of your new country friends?" He asked the questions in a way that suggested that it was part of a ritual frequently participated between the two of them.
"Yes, Uncle," she answered. "I'm remaining uncorruptible."
"You're certain of this?" he asked sternly "You were at a party on the beach with many young people the other evening. Were you pure then, too, Lio?"
"Yes," she replied, a note of tiredness in he tone.
"That is good," he said smiling, clapping hi hands together in a little motion of glee. "That is good because it is as important as life. You are sixteen, should your purity be changed, we both know that it could mean your life, don't we child?"
"Yes, Uncle, it could mean my life," she said, repeating the words which were obviously well practiced.
Lio moved into the study. Her body swayed Her breasts jiggled lightly against the bodice o her light, spring dress. And as she moved she was very aware that her uncle was watching every ripple of her body, every inch of it as if he had a thousand eyes.
"You're cooking more of the herb-foods aren't you, Uncle?" Lio asked.
"Yes. Aren't you glad?"
She hesitated, then said, "I'm glad because you seem to enjoy them so much."
"And you should enjoy them too. They are an important part of our past, a part that other nations have not yet taken from us."
"And you're cooking them just for us?" she asked.
"No. I have some friends from the import stores joining us. They should be with us soon."
She bowed her head, but did not answer.
Her uncle stood up, then said, "Come. We'll share a small dish of herb-flake together and it will help prepare you to be receptive to our guests."
Lio bowed again, a bit deeper, as if this more pronounced homage was due at this particular moment of their ritual. Her uncle motioned with one hand. Lio turned and preceded him to the kitchen.
As she moved, Lio felt her kinsman's eyes upon the rippling movement of her body. She wore a shift that was reminiscent of sarongs and hot, sandy beaches, of moonlight and the ocean waves cascading to tree-topped islands. Her uncle insisted that she wear shifts as frequently as possible for it was the one Western style that still maintained a touch of their homeland. Lio knew how her body appeared to him as she walked ahead of him. She knew that the dress creased at the sides and that her buttocks rolled beneath it, that it gave flashing sights and caused provocative thoughts about her legs, which were bare and long striding. She knew, too, that the back of the dress, cut in a wide dive from each shoulder, told the story of her trembling, nipple-erect breasts which were unseen but which nevertheless shouted their vitality.
In the kitchen, her uncle immediately seated himself at a small table. Although he was dressed in the dark suit of a business man, he gave the illusion of one waiting in silken robes to be served by his native mistress.
Lio brought two small bowls of substance that was hot, white, and in thin flakes. She placed one of the bowls in front of her uncle, the other at her place opposite him. Then she placed a wooden spoon for each of them upon the table.
They ate silently, as if this, too, was the custom in her uncle's home. Lio tasted the flakes that she knew so well and felt happy to receive them. She knew that soon she would be without care for the difference of herself, that she would no longer wish to be like her American friends, that she would be so deeply enthralled with the habits of her own people that she would not care about anything else-not until the day was past and she once again reflected upon all the matters that concerned her.
Exactly as they finished their foreign dish, as if by prearrangement, a light knock sounded at the front door.
"Our friends have arrived," her uncle announced. "I will greet them. You may make yourself ready in the upstairs room."
Lio lowered her eyes, placed the wooden spoon neatly on the saucer that held the bowl, then slowly rose from her chair. She waited as her uncle left the table and went to answer the call of his friends, then she moved from the kitchen to the stairs that led to the upstairs.
As she ascended the carpeted stairs Lio noticed that she was already feeling the effects of her native food. She felt a murmur at her loins as she moved, a kind of wild and free call that beckoned her to abandon. And as she felt it she thought fleetingly of Don Haywood, how, if she had felt such abandon during the beach party, her acceptance at Blair State would already be assured. And then she remembered the childhood vows her kinsmen had invoked upon her and she knew their strength, how they had made her pure and untouched by Western men. She knew, too, that this was the reason that she had not hurried to join with him as had her friends. But, as she thought of him, she reminded herself that Don Haywood and Blair State were her only means of escape from a past that was generations old but still bound her as securely as any slave was ever bound.
By the time she reached the top of the stairs, all such thoughts left her mind. Her mind was a vacuum except for those immediate matters that called to her.
She entered a large room that had once been intended for a master bedroom. It was not that now, however. The room was long and minus furniture except for thick, fluffy cushions that set in casual patterns about the floor. At the end of the room, there was a full wall sized cabinet. At the other end of the room there were only two small cocktail-type tables upon which small bowls of incense burned.
Lio stopped at the entrance of the room. Her nostrils quivered as the type of incense that was burning told her exactly what was to be expected of the evening. Her eyes narrowed. There was a very noticeable ripple of her shift at the area of her thighs. She moved across the room toward the large cabinet, wondering, not seriously but only casually because of the herb food, who the guests might be this time. There had been so many of them throughout the years that she doubted if she would recognize any of them. They were a blur of indistinguishable faces and bodies.
Lio had just turned the knob on the closet when a slight shuffling of sound told her that her uncle and his guests had joined her. She turned.
Her uncle smiled sweetly. So did his guests. Both guests were tall, hard, very masculine looking men. And, like the uncle, although they wore business suits, they seemed remote from them much as if they had suddenly been taken from a native land and placed unwillingly in the attire of others. Both of them also had the darker-brown-yellowish complexion of Lio's uncle, darker than her own but enough the same to designate them as near-members of the same, far Pacific race.
Lio turned toward her uncle and the guests and bowed to them. They answered with a bow of their own, stiff, from the waist, but with their eyes remaining on Lio.
The uncle motioned toward the man nearest him, then said to Lio, "Our third cousin, twice removed, wishes to be the first to avail himself of your glorious beauty this evening, charming niece."
Lio bowed again and said, "Honored."
She rose, dilated her nostrils once again to be sure of the instructions that the incense directed, then turned and opened the closet. When she turned again toward the men, the one who was to be first walked close, smiling broadly and already beginning to show the signs of great excitement. Lio held what appeared to be a jumble of odd-sized clothing. When the man moved closer to her, she placed the clothing on the floor and slowly walked close to the man.
As Lio smiled into the man's eyes, she saw that her uncle and the other guest had seated themselves on cushions and were watching interestedly.
Gracefully, as if she were presenting a lotus blossom to him, Lio brought her hands forward. She undid his tie, then the buttons of his shirt. When the yellow-brown skin of his chest was revealed, she deftly removed his jacket, then his shirt. She walked with them, gliding as if in a dance, to the side of the room and placed the clothing on the floor. Then she returned to the man and helped him remove his trousers, his shorts, shoes, and socks. When he was nude, she rose in front of him. She looked into his eyes. They glistened, and beads of perspiration began to stud all of his body. But it was only this that indicated his passion.
Lio stepped back a pace. Then, facing the man, she raised her arms high above her head and formed them into a dancing pose. The motion caused her shift to hike a bit, caress at the pretty bulges of her body, at her breasts and at the small, tight roll of flesh at her belly. Slowly, she turned, then, as she moved, she began a slow, undulating wiggle of her hips. And as her body squirmed in some unknown, native dance, she constantly moved her arms and hands, her fingers especially, in the caressing movements of love.
The man watched Lio intently. He perspired more freely. But still that expected response did not appear at his body.
Lio moved closer. She continued her dance, the up and down motion of her arms, the bumping of her hips from side to side, and she brought her fingers to his body where she tantalized his skin with their movement as she caressed at his neck and shoulders, at his chest, over the full expanse of it, then lower to his waist.
After a long time, while Lio danced and caressed, while the man stood straight before her, his eyes glued upon her moving body, she stepped back. Continuing the motion of her dance, she wiggled free of her shift and was revealed to all in nothing but a thin, bikini-type bra, skimpy, bikini panties, and the high-heeled shoes she had not yet abandoned.
Her near-nakedness caused a greater liquidity to come to her dancing movements. Her hips thumped harder from side to side. Her tits jiggled, showed most of themselves, then hid again once more appearing to tempt all who watched.
The man who was the recipient of her efforts, trembled slightly at the sight of her, at her yellow-brown body that moved so incessantly, at her arms and fingers that caressed at the air, at the oblong eyes which seemed nearly closed and at the black hair which floated like a cloud as it bounded and lifted and waved low behind her, striking lightly below her buttocks, swirling around to cover an area at her thighs, then moving to her back once again.
Finally, Lio brought an abrupt halt to her dance. For a moment the man stared directly at her, then with a gasp he threw himself to the floor and rolled to his back. Lio stepped to his side. She looked down at the passivity that continued. Then, very slowly, she raised her right foot and brought the heel of her high-heeled shoe down upon him.
The man gasped passionately. Lio ground the heel of the shoe harder against him, jamming it to him as if she were seeking to dig a hole into the earth, twisting it from side to side while she continued pressure harder upon him.
And the man gasped and gasped, choked, uttered some insane, foreign utterance of delight and arched upward, harder against her relentless shoe.
Soon, the man uttered an eerie cry and twisted away from the high heel which pounded and ground against him. He reached out and gripped Lio's foot, then he raised the smooth shoe to his mouth and kissed at it passionately, kissed hard over all the smooth, long surface of it, at the toe, the sides, at the back, at the bottom of the heel itself. He kissed harder and harder, and soon his tongue shot forward to lap at the smooth, leather shoe, at all of it again until at last he was done with it and rolled away.
Lio looked at the man as he lay on his back, breathing hard. And at last she saw that her dance, her bare body, the torture of her heel against him, and finally his own mouthing and kissing of the shoe itself, had aroused him.
Lio glided back several paces as the man pushed to his feet. He strained toward her, pointed all of his strength in her direction, but he made no move to take her in his arms, to touch at her rounded breasts or at any of the lovely, delicious parts of her. He trembled and tensed, but did not move to take the girl.
Finally, it was Lio who moved. She reached behind her, unclasped her tiny bra and brought it away from her body to dangle in her hand. Her breasts rolled free. They were round, not especially large, but had such vibrant intensity to them that it appeared they might bloat and burst. And it seemed as if the long, hard, straining nipples might shoot away from her like bullets. And the tremble of her breasts was like the light, rippling waves of a distant, exotic shore.
The man's body, tall, yellow-brown and bathed in sweat, quivered with ripples of excitement.
Lio waited only a few moments, then she moved forward and brought her small bra close to the man's chest. First, she merely rubbed it against him, then, exerting a mighty effort, she managed to bring it around his small chest and tie it at the back.
She stepped back and appraised the grotesque picture she had created: The man, solidly built, naked except for the tiny bra about his chest.
Lio, looking directly into his eyes brought her fingers inside the sides of her brief panties. She extended the elastic waistband far out, then quickly brought then downward, over her legs until she stepped out of them.
The man lunged forward anxiously. He lifted a foot. Lio bent and assisted him into the panties. Then he rose tall again, straining and stretching and looking very incredible in bra and panties.
Completely naked now, Lio again raised her arms and did a few steps of a sensual dance. Then she hurried to where she had placed the other clothing. She snatched it up and carried it to the man.
With Lio expertly aiding him, his anxious body snaked into the tantalizing silk of a long, silk dress. When it fell to the floor, cascading over his hips, he shivered delightedly. Then Lio added the touch that sent him into a spasm of pleasure. She removed her shoes and jammed them onto his feet. Then she stepped back.
The tall, yellow-brown man, turned in a circle, first presenting himself to the men who watched, then to Lio who awaited him. She knew her cue. She obeyed it immediately.
She moved a few paces, snatched up a large cushion, returned to the man, dropped the cushion then lowered her body to it. She adjusted her hips to its softness and waited while the woman-dressed man lowered, fumbled beneath his amazing attire and finally produced the man of him from within the feminine folds. His cock was gleaming, and Lio liked its look.
Lio hissed an eerie note and arched her body high. The soft silk of the dress floated upon her bare body while from beneath it she felt the man of her strange paramour thrashing as he lowered to her.
It was a strange, jumbled, crazy-patterned interlude of love. Lio arched and lowered her naked body at a frantic pace. The feminine clad man pounded furiously. And both of them from time to time were beneath a tent of silk, as if they were concealed from the outer world and all of its normalcy.
And then it was over, made finished with quickly because of the long and aphrodisiacally oriented prelude they had endured. Lio hissed, arched high, then cried out. The man groaned a passionate answer to her call, pounded harder, then slumped atop her as she went limp.
They parted quickly. Lio to her feet, turning to her uncle and his other guest; the silken clad man went out of the room and to a place of repair.
Lio had hardly a moment's respite from her use. The man next to her uncle leaped to his feet and hurried to the center of the room where Lio awaited him.
He was not careful, patient, or given to preliminaries. He tore his clothing from his body, then, when he was nude, he shot his hand forward and snatched at her long black hair. He gripped it hard, wound it within his strong fingers. Then he moved, jerking her off her feet to crash to the floor, then rub against it as he dragged her in a circle around the room.
Lio's body rubbed and bruised and bumped against the floor as she was dragged in a great circle. Her hair, so long, so black, so beautiful, and fortunately, so strong, pulled at her scalp as if it threatened total loosening. But then the pain that was there lessened as the man began to twirl her, brought her body in a hurtful circle as she was dragged. Her breasts struck the floor, then flattened and were rubbed against it as the man continued his wild circle. Then he jerked and she was on her back again to endure at her hips and back-thighs and shoulders the burn of the floor, the rubbing, the harsh torture that was brought to her skin.
The man halted in a comer of the room. With Lio stretched behind him as if he were preparing to hurl a grenade, he paused, then thrusted her forward with a tremendous sweep that skimmed her across the top of the floor until she was crashed against the comer of the wall. She struck it hard, bounding from one side to the other in a way that smashed both her hips and breasts, crushing them inward as if they would never again puff proudly.
The man regrasped Lio by the hair. He jerked her upward to her knees. He arched her head far back, then with his free hand, he struck her a hard slap across her cheek. Her head jerked to the side. Then it was brought to the other side as the man backhanded her other cheek. Then he flurried a series of slaps to her face, shooting her head from side to side as she was slapped, backhanded, slapped again, then backhanded once more, as it continued endlessly, hard and cruelly against the beauty of her delicate face.
Soon, he stopped that torture. Then he jerked her behind him and flung her against the wall once more. Then he did not stop. He flung her, let her crash hurtfully, rewound his fingers in her hair, draw her back, then lurched her forward again. And again and again and again.
And then that cruelty was ended. The man trembled and panted and as he again wound his fingers into her hair, he added his other hand to tangle with its mate in the thick, long blackness of her. Then he arched forward at the same time that he jerked Lio to him. And on her knees, as if bowing again and again to some obscene god of an ancient past, she was forced forward to him, then away, then forward once again. And finally, her choking, gasping, suffocating motion needed no encouragement. She moved on her own, down, down, down, harder and harder, obedient to the man's desires, ever faithful to the vows she had as a child taken before her kinsmen; a vow of use by relative and friend, a commitment to a life of sexual servitude.
At times like these Lio always thought of the act that she was committing. She knew that it was called 'cocksucking' in this country, but of all the things she did with the strange men who came to visit her uncle, this was her favorite thing. She loved the feel of the stranger's prick in her mouth, the way it glided through her parted lips and filled her jaws with its strength. Her life, she knew, could be devoted to sucking strangers' cocks and she'd never feel that she'd missed anything.
The man she was sucking hit her across the face, but she continued to suck his cock, milking it with the muscles of her throat and biting it gently on the head as he plunged it past her teeth and into her throat.
She wondered about Professor Haywood. Would she get admitted to Blair State by merely sucking his cock? She hoped he had a great big fat cock so that if she had to suck it, it would be enjoyable.
She felt the throbbings from the prick in her mouth and she knew the man was going to come, filling her mouth with his juices. She sucked extra hard, rolling her tongue around the swollen penis-head and gathering up the goo already beginning to flow.
The man grabbed her head and held it in his hands, trying to force her to be still so that he could attack her face with the savage intensity that his oncoming explosion called for. He wanted to ream her mouth, make her be still and let him pump his cock in and out all the way, ravishing her throat and making her beg for mercy. But the only mercy he planned to give her was the soothing juices from his swollen balls. He wanted to flood her mouth and make her gag on his fuck.
But Lio had more experience than he did, and she skillfully sucked his juices from him without any damage to herself.
When she was through she wondered again about the strange man from Blair State. Would she have to do it, she wondered? Was there no other way into Blair State except through her mouth or her tiny, sweet cunt? She didn't know, and she was beginning not to care.