Chapter 5

Betty was close to tears. Barbara was pacing around the living room, stopping to say something, refusing to sit down. Harry was sitting on the couch, sipping a drink. Of the three, he was the calmest.

"Why did you do it?" Barbara demanded for the tenth time. "What have we ever done to you to make you so hateful?" She had been asking the same question ever since they arrived at his apartment.

He made a gesture with his free hand. "Nothing. It was done long before you made the scene. A headshrinker would classify me as antisocial."

"What does that mean?" She stopped pacing again to lean on the back of a chair and regard him distastefully. In spite of her agitation, she admitted to feeling a little curious. "Does having a picture of us made make you feel better? We haven't got any money, so we're no good to you that way."

"That's what you think, pussycat." He finished his drink and put the glass down, then felt in his inside pocket and produced another envelope. "See this? Inside is the negative of your picture. Uh-uh." He put it back in his pocket as Barbara took a quick step toward him. "No touchee." Deliberately, he got up and went into the kitchen.

"Bastard," she said to his retreating back.

Betty gave her sister a look of pure misery. "All he's got to do is show that picture around and we're dead."

"You're telling me?" Barbara walked around the chair and sat in it. "We've got to play along with him and he knows it. That's why he had it taken."

Harry returned from the kitchen, carrying three glasses. Smoothly, the perfect host, he handed one to each girl and carried his own back to the couch. He took a long swallow and used the handkerchief from his breast pocket to wipe his mouth. "I think it's time we had a long talk," he said, with no particular emphasis.

"What else have we been doing?" He was cooking up some mischief, Barbara knew. There was a phoniness in his voice and that handkerchief bit was a little too impressive. He normally used the back of his hand. When he sat there looking down at the rug without answering, she was further convinced. He only did that when he was thinking. "What do you want us to do?"

He looked up finally and drank some more whisky. "Nothing," he said slowly, "I don't believe you," Barbara said flatly.

He grinned at her and rattled the ice in his drink. "You will," was all he answered. "But first, you've both got to go to school."

Half an hour later, he opened a drawer and produced the double dildo. "Last time," he frowned at Barbara, "you used this as though it was a stick. See? It's flexible." He bent the hard rubber with his fingers. "I have another one with a pair of artificial balls on it but we'll come to that later. Now get busy and practice."

They were both undressed. Barbara took the dildo and climbed onto the bed. The plastic sheet was cold when she knelt on it. Harry handed her a tube of lubricant and she anointed both ends of the dildo, feeling a flicker of excitement in spite of herself as the ridged shaft slid through her fingers. Methodically, she put the screw cap back on the tube and dropped it on the night table. Then she spread her thighs and carefully pushed the dildo into her vagina. She inserted it, moving it back and forth for a better fit, until all but about six inches were inside her and the other end of the thing jutted out like a thick penis. Then she beckoned to Betty. "Come on."

"Do I have to?" Her sister regarded her piteously. The damned dildo was hard and too big for her pussy. It had hurt like hell the last time, when Harry made Barbara take her cherry.

Barbara nodded. "I'm afraid so."

Harry interrupted. "Now that's where you get off the track," he said critically. "Your approach to fucking and being fucked should be an expectant, happy one. At least, that's what the experts say. Just relax and let it happen naturally. If you fight it, you won't like it."

"Relax, your grandmother's douche bag," Betty grumbled as she got onto the bed and knelt in front of her sister. "I wish you had that thing shoved up your ass. Then you'd know what it felt like." But she cooperated, even when Barbara parted her shrinking buttocks and guided the end of the dildo between the lips of her pussy. "Go easy," she whispered over a shoulder. "Remember, I don't dig pain like you do."

So Betty knew, Barbara thought. Somehow, perhaps from a chance remark, she had guessed that her sister was a masochist. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered now except to keep that son-of-a-bitch happy. He had them completely at his mercy. She shuddered when she thought of what a copy of the photograph mailed to her mother or the school principal would do. Deliberately, she stopped thinking about it and concentrated on making it as easy on Betty as she could.

Despite her agitation, the dildo beginning to slip in and out of her pussy felt increasingly pleasant. She dropped .a pillow and saw Betty bury her head in it. Then she made her mind a blank and settled down to steady screwing, trying to believe that the stiff thing that was fucking her back was the colored man's great prick and not just a contraption bought in a store.

Presently she felt Betty's pussy twitch and contract in response and hoped that she was enjoying it now that the pain of entry was past. She looked up to see where Harry was and found him bending over them critically. The side of the bed hid the lower half of him and she could not see his crotch. But she would have bet money if she'd had any that his prick was as stiff as the dildo.

"Hump it up her further," he counseled. "You're fucking her with the head. Get it into her further, so that she gets the feeling all the way."

Betty gasped as Barbara pushed harder. She was trembling as though she were cold but the circular movement of her behind indicated that she was getting some enjoyment out of it.

After another minute, Harry showed her how to circle the center of the dildo with her finger and thumb. "That way, you can hold it still and fuck it harder; something to remember when you're ready to come."

She wondered then if he really had an erection. His voice sounded toneless, as though he was reading out of a book with no feeling, merely complying with the business in hand. To hell with him. She did not really mean that, either. Even in his hatefulness, there was something that attracted her.

Quickening excitement made her forget him and she became briefly angry with herself because she wanted to come. How was that possible, she wondered. Screwing was the last thing in her mind when they had hurried over to his apartment to try and talk him out of using that dammed picture and here they were on his bed, fucking like a couple of faggots, while he looked on and gave her lessons. And yet it was thrilling. The dildo really felt like a big horny cock and she wasn't one to mix sentiment with intercourse. The physical part of it was what she craved, the stretching, the pain, the friction in her hot pussy; not like Betty, who liked to smother a fuck with personality. Barbara fucked the prick, not the man.

There was no discomfort anymore. The pain had gone, leaving in its place an eagerness for orgasm. There would be no gushing semen to make the finish more vivid, but that could be offset by the fact that she did not have to wait for it to squirt into her. She could take her time, lining herself up to get the maximum pleasure, then come any time she wished. Men, she had found, liked the girl to wait for them. A dildo was impersonal.

Betty burrowed into the pillow and almost screamed as the thick shaft entered her. Harry's previous counsel that a pussy would stretch a yard before it would tear an inch was no comfort. The thing was there, boring into her and opening her pussy, sending waves of pain all through her until she was sure she couldn't stand any more. If having a baby was like this, she hoped she never got pregnant. She would just die.

Barbara pushed harder and strangely that seemed to ease the splitting sensation. Now the dildo was all the way in. Recovering a bit, Betty wondered what was missing. Then she realized that there were no balls swinging between her thighs. The couple of times she had done it that way with Sam and Tommy, she had liked the balls there where she could reach back and play with them while she was being screwed. It seemed to make the union more complete. She had learned that handling a man's testicles while his cock was up her afforded her an additional thrill, a sort of proof that she was really being fucked and that presently the semen manufactured in these same nuts would come squirting into her pussy and make her own climax all the more wonderful.

The lack of balls was partly made up for by the ridges running across the dildo's shaft. They engaged her clitoris and stimulated it to a higher pitch than a penis. And except for its length, which was a little shorter than Tommy's erection, it was gratifying, sufficient to make her respond by working with it. There was something else missing. She tried to think what it could be, then decided that it was the warm feeling of a man in her. For all its hardness and exciting construction, the dildo was cold. Only its size redeemed it from being like her finger.

"Don't forget that you're the boss." Harry was coaching again and Barbara listened with part of her awareness. The rest was busy building up to coming. "You'll both get more out of it if you finish together. If you're not ready, one of you should stop screwing until the other catches up. A whore told me that and the lesbians know it. Just a trick, but a good one."

On an impulse, Barbara reached forward under her sister and caught her hard tits. Holding her crotch almost against Betty's buttocks, she moved the dildo in and out of their vaginas in short, crisp strokes while she played with the standing nipples. Harder and harder, shortening the strokes still more as she quickened the action, she drove the rigid shaft into both of them, remembering what Harry had said about it being flexible and edging first to one side and then the other to get the fullest measure of sensation.

A minute of that and both of them were breathing in short, sighing gasps in time to the movement of the shaft which held them together. Barbara tried to slow the action until she knew how Betty was doing but the flooding pleasure was too much. She buried the dildo in one last plunge and kept on fucking it while she came.

"Nice going." It was Harry again. "You both came, right on the money. Take it easy for a while. I'll fix you a drink."

"What's he up to?" Betty asked. She was still breathing a trifle raggedly. They were lying on their backs, flinching away from the smooth coldness of the plastic spread. "Do you think he's training us for something, like he's going to make prostitutes out of us?"

"Maybe." Barbara found that she didn't care very much. A good come like that always relaxed her. "Or perhaps you'd rather Mother get that photograph."

"Oh, no! I'd fuck all night rather than have that happen." She started to cry. Barbara patted her shoulder and she was dry-eyed when Harry came back with three highballs.

There was a sort of punctiliousness about the way he handed them their drinks; a proprietary interest which he had not shown before.

"It's like he owned us," Barbara told herself, sipping nonetheless with appreciation. She followed that thought up with another. "As a matter-of-fact, he does."

"You forgot to jack off," she reminded him, aloud. It wouldn't hurt to humor him a little. "You haven't lost your touch, have you?"

He grinned at her over his glass and appeared to consider. "Not so you could tell," he said. "A fortune teller once vowed that I'd die in a cat house with a hard-on when I was a hundred. I'm only thirty-three, so there's time." He became serious. "I'm going to teach you all I know until you're the best lays in this county." He sat down on the foot of the bed. There was speculation in the way he looked at them, as though he was estimating their talent.

"And then?" Betty spoke up, a bit tremulously.

"Why, I'm going to turn you loose to enjoy yourselves." His tone was suddenly jovial and he half raised his drink as though in salutation.

"How?" Barbara inquired dryly. The whisky was steadying her.

"How?" he repeated. "Why, living it up, of course. What else is there?"

"That means screwing, doesn't it?"

"Naturally. Or would you like to become a nun?"

"Let's level," Barbara finished her drink and chewed on a piece of ice. "You've got something up your sleeve or you wouldn't be doing this. What is it?"

For answer, he shrugged and got up to take their empty glasses. "Does it matter?" He turned in the doorway to look back at them. "You like to fuck; I like to watch. I've got plans. So let's get on with it." They heard him carry the glasses back to the kitchen. Then he went to the telephone and dialed.

"Do you suppose he's calling Sam and Hank again?" Betty asked wistfully.

"No such luck." Barbara closed her eyes and lay back. Then a thought appeared to strike her and she opened them and sat up. "That number," she murmured.

"What are you talking about?

"The telephone number that Sam wrote on your wrist that evening. Can you remember it?"

"No. But I wrote it down."

"Where is it?" Barbara sounded impatient.

"In my address book," Betty answered. "Where else?"

To her surprise, Barbara leaned closer and kissed her. "Keeping that number could be the greatest thing you ever did." She broke off to listen. "Play it cool. He's coming back."

Harry had mixed himself another drink but he neglected to bring them a refill. Instead, he pulled up a chair and straddled it, resting his arms on the back. "We will now continue with example number two," he informed them.

"What do we have to do?" Betty asked. "Use that son-of-a-bitch dildo again?"

"You take the point." Harry laughed at his own pun. "But you don't have to come unless you want to. From now on, we'll work on positions. Someday, you may thank me."

He rubbed the side of his nose for a minute. "Let's see." He studied them with his head on one side. "You were both pretty good the back way. Let's see how you do up front."

Barbara sighed resignedly and reached for the dildo and the tube of lubricant. She greased the phony cock at both ends and was about to insert it when she saw Harry shaking his head.

"Not that one," he said. He got up and went to another drawer and took out a second dildo. It was larger than the first and had only one head. Also, it had a pair of bulging balls below the base of the thick shaft. "Here." He tossed the contrivance to Betty. "Go into the bathroom. Unscrew that little plug in the back of the nuts and fill it with hot water. Then come back and I'll show you how to put it on."

"The butches use both types," he told Barbara when Betty got off the bed. "There's another one with two heads and a double pair of rubber nuts in the middle. But it's not as popular as the single one." His tone was quite unemotional. They might have been discussing the weather.

"The front method can be used in either the missionary or the side position," he went on as Betty reappeared. He took the dildo from her and felt the balls and the shaft with the back of a hand. "It's okay," he nodded. "It'll get hotter before it starts to cool. Then all you'll have to do is refill it. Hold still."

With deft fingers, he strapped the clumsy contraption onto her, drawing the strap that went between her legs tight so that the rigid shaft stood out from her crotch like a real erection. "There!" He stood back and admired her. "Now you can really chase the broads." A glint of humor shone in his eyes. "I wouldn't walk too fast if I were you," he grinned. "You might fall flat on your face."

He supervised the lubrication of the dildo, then directed Barbara to lie on her side and bend one knee. "Put it into her," he nudged Betty. "Lie facing her and when it's in place, pull her leg over your hip."

The appliance was warm in her pussy. Instinctively, Barbara put a hand down and guided it in, like she would have done with a man. Perhaps because the thick shaft was hollow, it was more pliable and softer than the double-ender. It hurt her just enough to make the entry pleasant. When it was fully inserted, she put her foot across Betty's hip quite naturally, finding that the position exposed her cunt fully and wishing that there was some hair on the thing to tickle her crotch. Then the big warm balls came crowding in and she let her thigh lie flat across Betty to squeeze them and enjoy the soft pressure.

Betty had been a little disappointed when she found that she was to be the active partner in this second performance. The tepid shaft of the dildo had intrigued her and she wanted to find out what it would feel like inside her. Sam and Tommy up her pussy and Harry in her rectum had been hard but their pricks were not as warm as the shaft she was fingering when she returned from the bathroom. The artificial balls pushed back into her crotch when Harry strapped the thing on and the heat of them above her clitoris was enough to make it atand. But that merely aggravated her desire. She wanted the rest of it.

Then she had it in Barbara's pussy. Her sister's reaction had a similar effect on her. The fact that she was giving pleasure as well as experiencing it was something new. Before, when she was being screwed by one of the men, she had concentrated on her own enjoyment and, except for an instinctive waiting for him to come in order to make her own climax more exciting and fucking him back when she felt the nearness of orgasm, she had not concerned herself with the way he felt. When Barbara closed her thighs to press down on the rubber balls, they pushed back into Betty's crotch and by closing her eyes, she could imagine they were real and that her sister was really a man. The impression intrigued her and she jerked her hips and earned an immediate reproof from Harry.

"You're not a monkey fucking a football or a rabbit or something," he snapped at her. "You might as well be jacking her off. Take it long and easy. I'm in no hurry."

The admonition involved backing the bulging nuts out of Barbara's crotch and releasing their pressure in her own.

"You've got the hang of it now," Harry applauded when she backed up, then pushed in again slowly. "Keep that up until you feel her coming. If you can get yours with her, so much the better."

The son-of-a-bitch must have been born in a whorehouse, she thought wryly. He never fucked women, yet he seemed to know all about it, coaching like a phys-ed instructor and undoubtedly getting his kicks, as he admitted, by watching the action. Perhaps he was ready for the funny farm but as long as he had that damned negative, he could call the signals and they'd have to go along. .She thought of various ways of getting the negative back, including murder. If he was out of the way, they would be off the hook. How did you go about killing a guy? She had never even fired a cap gun.

Barbara moved and pressed their tits closer together and Betty sighed and went back to work. Whatever feeling her sister was getting from the warmed shaft plowing her pussy was something she had no way of knowing except through the twitching of Barbara's vagina, especially when the ridges teased her clitoris. That was something else, Betty reflected. She had had enough experience with men's pricks to realize that the head on entering gave the most pleasant sensation when it contacted a woman's clitoris. To her way of thinking, the rest was merely a business of mind; a feeling of fullness, a sense of intimacy and perhaps surrender to the man's drive.

Therefore, it was a pity, she reflected, that only the head of the penis was constructed in such a manner as to engage the clitoris on its way in and out. The friction of the foreskin was pleasant enough, at least in the instance of the only two cocks she had had in her pussy but it took the flaring head, with its back flange, to do a real job. Nature had goofed in not furnishing a man's penis with ridges like a dildo. Then the excitement would be continuous. Of course, the penis compensated for the interrupted stimulation by filling the cunt with warm semen, which of course the dildo could not do. But it was a pity about those ridges. She sighed again and reached over to hold her sister's cool buttocks and pull her nearer.

Barbara surprised herself by her almost calm approach to coming. The dildo with its thumping balls was hot and hard but she could not get it out of her mind that the thing was not a man. She had closed her eyes several times, doing her best to create a live penis by sheer imagination but conviction eluded her. She might as well have been screwing herself with a banana. All the same, the physical part of it was gratifying and Barbara was a physical person. But it would have been nicer to finish with a spouting prick instead of a piece of thrusting rubber.

"Shorten up," Harry ordered harshly. His voice made them jump. They had almost forgotten he was there. "Goddam it, will you never learn? The short strokes make for coming. The long ones are just buildup."

How the hell did the bastard know I was about to finish, Barbara asked herself. Then the mounting compulsion drove everything else out of her mind and she barely had time to push down and suck Betty's tit before fucking the dildo back and reaching a gusty sort of release. Betty strained against her, catching her breath in little short gasps as Barbara's mouth at her breast brought her to climax at the same moment. They uncoupled slowly and rolled over on their backs, the wet dildo standing straight up from Betty's crotch as though waiting for the next customer.

"That's all." Harry sounded impatient. He made Betty get off the bed so that he could undo the straps. Then he handed the thing to her and told her to empty it in the bathroom and rinse it.

He said nothing to Barbara and she relaxed and stared at the ceiling, wondering how many others she might have to look at if he did what she thought he had in mind. A couple of honey-blonde young whores should put plenty in his pocket.

He left the bedroom and Betty showed up with the dripping harness and dropped it on a chair. "Where'd he go?" she inquired. "I want to ask him something."

"like what?" Barbara sounded disinterested.

"like if I make a deal with him, he'll give us the negative. If he-likes, he can draw up a contract. I'll sign it and he can let you go."

Barbara smiled in spite of herself. She got up and put her arms around her sister. "You dumb bunny," she said, "but I love you." She shook her head. "It wouldn't work, even if you were not a minor and your signature worthless. This cat is cool. He'd never agree. Besides, if he did, any judge would nail him for white slavery."

Betty's face fell. She had been ready to go through with it. Now there was nothing. She realized that she had been foolish even to mention it. "There must be something we can do," she almost wailed.

"There is," Barbara agreed. "All we have to do is find it."

Harry returned, carrying his inevitable highball.. He gulped it nervously, then set the glass down on the dresser. "I didn't fix you one," he informed them dryly. "You still have things to do."

"Not that thing again?" Barbara looked at the wet object on the chair. "We know how to use that now. We've learned everything."

"I believe you." He examined them leisurely. "No. Now we're going to have some fun. I'm going to fuck you both in the ass and then throw you out. How does that sound on your harmonium?"

"Just great," Barbara snapped at him. "I'll try and shit all over you." Betty put a hand to her mouth. She had never heard her sister talk like that before.

"Don't try it," Harry answered. He tapped his pocket and grinned. "It's not there now. I put it away because I couldn't stand seeing you being tempted to steal it."

When neither of them answered, he got up and removed his jacket. "Get back on the bed," he ordered. "Put your faces in the pillows and stick your butts in the air. The one I come in gets the brass ring, which includes an ass-full of jizzum."

"I could grab his balls," Betty whispered, when they were kneeling with their heads down. "Then maybe you could hit him with something and knock him out."

"What good would that do?" Barbara muttered practically. "You heard him. He doesn't have the negative on him and we'd never find it."

"Cut out the cackle and get ready." They felt Harry climb on the bed behind them. "I'll try you first." His hand slapped Barbara briskly. "Only don't get jealous when I pull out and stick it into your sister. And no tricks, if you know what's good for you."

Barbara readied herself to take his prick. She hoped that he had lubricated it. A dry cock could tear her ass up. She knew that he was rough but she was not prepared for the way he came ramming into her. She bit her lips, trying not to make a sound and let him know he was hurting her. By the time his crotch hair was tickling her distended rectum, the shooting pain had lessened so that she was able to stand it. It was enjoyable. Her clitoris twitched and rose as he drew back for another stroke.

He screwed her that way for perhaps a minute, making no attempt to reach for her tits or hold onto her thighs, as though the insertion of his prick was the only contact he wanted with her body. Then he pulled out of her with a little plopping noise and turned to Betty.

"I hate him!" Betty exploded. They were upstairs in the bedroom at home. Their mother was out. The fact that they did not have to face her made things a bit easier on both of their consciences. "I'm going to kill him, if it's the last thing I do."

"You're going back with me tomorrow." Betty drew a rubber cap over her blonde curls in readiness for a hot shower. "We're going to take whatever he hands us and like it, until we get out of this mess."

She turned around in the bathroom doorway. "Get out your address book. I want to look up that phone number."