Chapter 1
Jodie's hand clutched tightly at the ragged edges of her torn party dress. Her hand trembled uncontrollably as she inserted the key into the door of her parents' luxurious Beverly Hills home.
"Please God," she muttered between her clenched teeth. "Please God, let them be out."
As she had run sobbing up the long sweep of the drive, there had been no sign of her father's Cadillac, but that didn't mean a thing. It could be safely put away in the garage beside her mother's bright red 3.5 Jaguar coupe. And both her parents could be sitting up to hear the details of the high school graduation dance.
The firm flesh of Jodie's seventeen-year-old breasts fell free of her torn dress as she reached behind her to gently close the door. The creamy smoothness of her thrusting mounds bounced and swayed enticingly as she made her way across the thick pile of the entrance room carpet toward the stairs and the privacy of her own bedroom.
Jodie's hand was on the iron balustrade and her back was to the study door as her father's voice reached out to her imperatively, like a cold clutching hand.
"That you, Jodie?"
Without pausing in her stride, she answered him briefly. "Yes, Dad. I'm going straight to bed. Good night."
His voice was indignant as it barked through the crack of the half-opened study door. "Not until you have given an account of yourself," he demanded. "Do you know what goddamn time it is? Your mother phoned the school and you left an hour ago. If you've been running around with that wetbacked Mexican kid again, I'll break your neck for you."
Terrified, the young girl ran up the stairs, the chill of the night air firming her virginal pink nipples, making her conscious of her near nudity and the impossibility of ever explaining what had happened to her bigoted, overprotective parents.
Her voice was a strangled sob as she flung an answer over her shoulder. "Later, Daddy. Later. Leave me alone, can't you?"
"Come back down here. I want to talk to you."
The chair creaked in the study as her father pushed away from his desk. The thought of him coming through the door, his hard gray eyes raking over her exposed breasts, like cold dry fingers reaching out from the depths of his suspicious, jealous mind, lent wings to Jodie's fleeing feet.
Her voice echoed down the void of the winding iron staircase, like some frightened, hunted animal. "No, Daddy, no. I'll talk to you in the morning."
Her bedroom door slammed with a solid finality, cutting off her words in mid-sentence. The lock clicked metallically into place under her trembling fingers before she crossed the room to her built-in clothes closet. Peeling off the telltale torn dress, she thrust it deep behind the rows of hanging clothes.
Closing the closet door, she surveyed herself in the full-length dressing mirror. Her ripe, plump young body was naked except for the brief wisp of transparent panties. Tossing back her head, she shook the long blonde hair behind her as it curved caressingly over the lines of her shoulders and high, pointed breasts. Free from the shy covering of her slinky hair, the voluptuous splendor of her budding womanhood thrust forward like a ripe offering. The delicate arc of her thighs merged gradually into the delicious vee of her crotch. The thin fabric of her briefs bulged enticingly over her silky-haired mound of Venus. A darker warm patch moistened the narrow gusset of material across her pouting love pit, indicating the desires that already burnt in her young, untouched body. Slowly, as if they were the searching hand of a lover, Jodie let her eyes glide upward, across the childlike smoothness of her rounded stomach, up over the protrusion of her rib cage to linger for one breathtaking minute upon the sudden rise of her pointed breasts.
Incredibly angled, they jutted out in a proud, determined defiance of gravity that allowed her to adopt the latest braless fashions, filling out the sheer shirts and blouses to the limit of the stretched fabric. Pensively, she raised her hands to cup her breasts, forcing the delicate pink fruits of her nipples to pucker invitingly.
How many times had she stood in the quiet privacy of her room and fantasized the tender kiss of a lover warmly pulling at the pink candied sweetness of her berrylike nipples? Some vague, perfect synthesis of a dream man that had haunted her since the first stirring of desire had coursed through her forming girlish body. Some attentive, courteous man who would look behind the fear in her eyes and understand the ache and loneliness, the sense of bewilderment she felt among the confused values of the World she was growing up in.
At times, as she lay unable to sleep in the heat of the California night, she had imagined the touch of this man's hands comforting her, petting her until all her fears and doubts became drowned and lost in the rising flood of her awakened sexuality. The petal-like folds of her tight, untouched cunt would flood with the warm fluids of her desire, lubricating and easing the passage of his stiff-muscled manhood as it gently penetrated deep within her, passing the open flower of her vaginal lips, probing insistently into her cunt, brushing aside the barrier of her maidenhood until it nuzzled with masculine insistence against the protrusion of her cervical button.
As she surrendered to the pounding thrust of the dream cock, it would seem to swell and grow until the enormity of it filled her completely, symbolically tearing aside the confining walls of her dilated pussy until it flooded her entire being with a hot gushing torrent of viscous cum and her empty, lonely soul was filled and at peace within her.
Yes, she told herself, that is what I want in a man. Someone who does not look upon me as a sex object alone, but is prepared to seek my mind, my hopes, and my dreams through the soft surrender of my body. Someone, perhaps, a little like her father's young hippie brother.
Ever since Jodie was a little girl, Uncle Dick had been there like some enticing, forbidden fruit to turn to. Her parents, like the rest of the family, had written Dick off years ago. His gentle, poetic, soft voice seemed strangely at variance with his ragged blue jeans and wild unbrushed beard. But on the odd occasion when he had stayed at the house, there had been a deep rapport and understanding between the shy, long-legged school girl and the dissatisfied, searching student.
At night, when he would come into her room to say good night and read the soft sounds of his poetry over her sleepy head, it had somehow seemed normal and proper that his hand should slip comfortingly under the thin coverings of the sheets and fondle her drowsy body as she lay relaxed.
As the years had passed and she had sprung into a firm, rounded maturity, he had still continued the childish pretense of reading aloud to her as his questing hands searched out the twin lemons of her tits, the gentle pressure of his rotating palms stimulating her until she spread her legs as if half asleep, allowing him to caress her moist, palpitating pussy.
The beauty of his poetry washed over her yielding body like some heavy incense, causing her to believe that this was how a man should approach a woman. Gently, insistently, with words of love on his tongue and the imagery of words probing deeper and deeper like impassioned fingers into her eager young body.
Sighing, Jodie turned away from the mirror. How different the reality was from the dream. Her father had been right when he accused her of being with Tony Garcia.
When he had asked her shyly whether she would let him take her to the graduation dance, her heart had been sick with sympathy for him. All she had read about the struggles of the underprivileged minorities raced through her mind. Here, she thought, was an opportunity to show that all middle class white Americans were not embittered and prejudiced like her parents.
As he spoke to her, his tongue fluid around the unaccustomed American words, his trusting brown eyes seemed to speak a language of need that struck an answering chord deep within Jodie's loneliness. The courteous half-bow he gave her before he strode off across the schoolyard clinched the matter. Here was the heir to a race who had kept their dignity and breeding in spite of the jibes of the luckier white race.
And tonight at the dance, she had known that she had been right. He had been so punctiliously correct in his treatment of her, agreeing so eagerly with her views and opinions, that she hardly noticed the warning signs as his hands brushed against her breast as he handed her coffee and soft drinks. Or the overfamiliar way he rubbed his crotch against the yielding vee of her stomach as they danced together.
It wasn't until he stopped his beatup Chevrolet on the quiet street leading to Jodie's house that the situation began to get out of hand.
At first, Jodie had surrendered herself to his shy, almost sexless kisses. Gradually, as he sensed her acquiescence, the young Mexican's passionate nature had insisted on more and more liberties with Jodie's limp and passive body.
With a quickness that alarmed her, Tony had jerked her breast free from the low-cut party dress and sought the firm rosy flesh of her nipples with his eager, panting mouth. Confused by the turn of events, Jodie had lain quietly at first, believing that the gift of her tender tits would in some way recompense Tony for all the injustices that her people had heaped upon the minority groups. As if the pain she felt as Tony's strong white teeth pulled and bit at the sensitive points of her aroused nipples would cleanse her of the guilt she felt for the actions of her forefathers.
Torn between pain and the mounting desire that now swept like a consuming fire through her eager stimulated twat, she lay back on the cold plastic of the car seat and tried to imagine that it was the tender lover of her dreams whose hot breath caressed her saliva-wet boobs. The compliant martyrdom was shattered as Tony reached for her hand and guided it down to the rampant, bulging prick that he had eased out of his trousers.
Fearfully she grasped the distended staff as he moved her waist in a slow pumping motion. As she felt the ripple of the blood-gorged tissue under the velvety cock skin, she became revolted and frightened by the animalism that seemed to throb through the naked member in her hand.
Tony's breathing deteriorated into a series of grunts as he guided the soft palm of her hand onto the tender glans at the bulging head of his ramrod.
His other hand left the softness of her tits and fastened like a vise behind her blonde head. Slowly, she felt her head being forced lower and lower toward the oozing purple head of Tony's immense penis.
Helplessly, like a captive, mesmerized bird, she watched the snakelike dong coming nearer, inexorably nearer to her open awe-struck mouth. She could hardly hear Tony's harsh demand over the beat of her heart.
"Get your mouth around seven inches of Chicano prick and start sucking, baby."
Tentatively, she reached out with her red, pointed tongue and sampled the tang of the crystal-clear emissions that dripped from the opening of his urethra.
The queer alien taste terrified her in its primitive sea-like saltiness. She felt unclean, as if she were reliving some forgotten moment in time when man's first ancestors crawled out of the steaming mud to copulate.
Alarmed, she jerked her head away from the threatening intruder. Tony's once soft voice became a snarl as he reached for her in the darkness of the car.
"You prick-teasing bitch. You'll finish what you started."
His grasping hands fastened on the scooped neckline of her dress. As Jodie struggled to free herself, the delicate lace front parted under the pull of his brown hands. With a cry of animal victory, he thrust his face deeply into the yielding cushion of her boobs.
Jodie felt her hand being forced down again toward the throbbing eagerness of his dong. As her fingers brushed along the unbelievably hard length of it, she felt the soft bag of his balls drop into her hand. In panic, she clutched at them and pulled hard. The agonized scream that burst from the tortured lips of the young would-be assailant terrified her, causing her to grasp his compressed balls even tighter.
Reaching behind her, she felt for the car door handle with her free hand. Within seconds, she was racing up the path to the security of her home. But instead of being able to sob out the story of her escape to warm understanding parents, she had been forced to hide in her room and try to forget the experience in tears.
Her father, for one, would never believe that she had not behaved like some heated bitch and allowed the Mexican to plunge his probe into the tender flesh of her girlish cunt. In her father's opinion, any girl who wore brief miniskirts and semitransparent blouses was rushing down the road to the nearest cathouse.
As if summoned by her thoughts, she became aware of her father's voice calling her name insistently through the locked door.
"Jodie, do you hear me, Jodie? Open this door before I break the goddamned thing down!"
Instinctively, Jodie backed away from the anger in his voice, and she watched the handle of the door turn as her father spoke again.
"This is your last chance. In three seconds, I'm going to break in!"
Petrified, Jodie backed toward the bed and clutched the silken sheet around her. The flimsy bedroom door shuddered as her father's foot crashed against the lock panel. Unable to withstand the onslaught, the wood splintered and the door slammed back against the wall deafeningly.
Her mother's high squeal of fear followed her father's hunched menacing figure into the room.
"Elgin, what are you doing? Have you gone out of your mind?"
Her father's face was white with anger as he turned to answer his wife. "Everything's under control, hon. Your baby daughter has grown up and it's time that she and I had a little talk. Make a couple of highballs. I'll be down in a little while."
The timid birdlike mother peeped over the bulk of her husband's obscuring shoulders. "But, Elgin," she twittered. "Look at my baby. She's tired. Let's talk to her in the morning."
"No, damn it. She wants discipline, and tonight she's going to get it. No daughter of mine gets away with wearing those funny clothes and keeping me up till this hour."
His eyes seemed riveted on the voluptuous outline of his daughter's ripe body as she tightened the folds of the sheet around her.
He half turned toward his wife. "Get downstairs and stay out of this, will you? I'll deal with her in my own way. She wants a lesson that you can't give her."
Obediently, Jodie's mother left the room after giving one last worried look at her half-naked, unprotected daughter.
As the sound of his wife's shoes clicked down the stairs, Elgin Hamilton swung the bedroom door closed and wedged a chair under the broken handle.
He spun on his heel and faced his daughter. His voice was tight and strained as he spoke. "And now, my dear, we are going to get down to the bottom of things. Your bottom, in fact."
His hand trembled as he undid the buckle of his fashionably wide leather belt. His voice cracked across the room like a whip. "Get your pants down and get on the bed!"
Whimpering, Jodie pressed back against the wall. The whole scene had become a nightmare that she prayed she would awake from. The sound of her father's heavy breathing as he came toward her jolted Jodie back to the present.
His hand reached out for her and stupidly she concentrated on the black hairs that sprouted from under his cuff. His voice came to her down a black tunnel of fear.
"If you won't take it willingly, I'll make you take it!"
She felt his hand on her, pulling her toward the bed. Pulling, yanking on the thin sheet that covered her naked defenseless young body, Jodie felt the fabric slipping through her clutching fingers. The friction of the soft material dried the cold sweat of fear that glistened on her skin like dew.
Low, private sounds came from her father's wet lips as he struggled with her. It was almost as if he felt that the most important thing was to have his daughter naked and prostrate before him. With a cry of triumph, the overwrought inarticulate man succeeded and flung the silken sheet behind him.
Jodie's hands flew instinctively to cover the proud flesh of her boobs.
"Put your hands down. I want to look at you," her father commanded.
Mutely, Jodie shook her head, squeezing her fingers shut so that the pink buds of her nipples were hidden from his searching eyes. Her father's hands fastened on hers like two vises. She was powerless against his greater strength and felt her protecting hands sink lower and lower, giving into him.
Her defiant upthrusting breasts leaped from their captivity, the red revealed nipples like two eyes detachedly watching the struggling hands in front of them.
"What the hell is that on your tits?" Her father's voice almost sounded relieved as if his confirmed suspicions gave him the freedom for what was to follow. Glancing down quickly, Jodie saw the unmistakable imprints of Tony's teeth in bright red arcs around her puckered nipples.
"Just as I thought," her father thundered. "You'll let any wetback with a hard on make free with your body, but you're too high and mighty to let your father have even a glimpse of you. We'll alter all that right now."
Suiting his action to his words, he ripped the fragile panties from her in one quick movement.
"Now get on the bed," he rasped. "I'm going to check you out real close and find out what else you've let these punks do to you."
Fear had made her incapable of uttering a sound. The dry taste of panic seemed to gum her tongue to the roof of her working mouth. Picking her up easily in his strong arms, her father carried her struggling body across the room and toward the bed. His hard, brutal fingers sank deep into the compliant softness of Jodie's ivory skin.
As she struggled, her body half turned in the tight restriction of her captor's arms, and his hand cupped the fullness of his daughter's boob. An electric convulsion seemed to shake him as he felt the forbidden fruit of his daughter's breast yield to his manipulating fingers.
Despite Jodie's repugnance, a hot surge of helpless longing seemed to spark inside the captive tit and flame like a raging fire through her girlish body.
Her frightened blue eyes filled with uncontrollable tears, choking her voice as she spoke.
"Daddy, Daddy, why are you doing this to me?"
Some half-forgotten impulse made her cuddle closer to him and her words were muffled in his shoulder. It was as if the years had blown away in the strong wind of their passion and she was a small child again being carried to bed by her adoring father.
Her father's voice seemed almost tender as he answered through the thick mass of her close-pressed hair.
"Because I love you, baby. I love you in a way that frightens me at times. You are a symbol to me. A symbol of what a woman should be like. Fine and clean. Pure and unapproachable."
His voice broke as his emotion overcame him. "And what the hell is happening to you? You dress like a tramp. Any man who has eyes can stare at your boobs through those goddamn see-through blouses. You show your legs right up to the cheeks of your ass. You give your body to stinking Mexicans and yet you won't even let me look at you."
The intensity of his voice drove the meaning of his words into Jodie's mind like red-hot nails. The memory of classes she had sat through in high school emerged from the recesses of her brain. Psychology I, with Mr. Leech explaining human behavioral patterns, the Oedipus complex, nymphophilia, galateaism... Her father was sick-sick mentally-and had transferred his demanding, mature love into a desire for the untouched body of his teenaged daughter.
A sob raked through Jodie's naked body. Oh, God. What dark labyrinth of deviation were they both stumbling into?
She felt herself being thrown onto the soft coverlet of her bed. Her nude body sprawled across the crimson bed cover like some ancient sacrificial victim, some helpless offering in an Old Testament story. But now there was no fiery prophet to cry, 'Thou shalt not sin."
Like some blood-crazy high priest, her father stood over her. His words seemed to fill the room in their authority. "Spread your legs, like you did for the Mexican."
Frantically Jodie tried to cover her snatch with her hands.
Her father smiled maliciously. "Okay, if that's how you want it, there is a punishment for disobedience." The thick leather belt seemed to appear from nowhere as it came snaking down across her unprotected body. A searing flash of pain cut across Jodie's stomach as the harsh leather tongue licked her flesh.
Again her father's punishing arm rose and fell. Gauging his blows, he aimed at the red imprints of Tony's teeth on his daughter's breasts, as if trying to burn them out with the lash of his belt. The soft flesh trembled and sank as if trying to absorb the pain of the biting leather thong. A long red weal showed the path of the searing avenger across the tenderness of her shuddering, heaving knockers.
Slowly the fresh, angry scar covered and assimilated the faint pink indentations of the Mexican's toothmarks.
Her father nodded, satisfied. "I guess that takes care of what he did to your tits. I've blotted him out, but good."
His eyes slid slowly over the rest of his daughter's trembling body, seeking, examining, exploring every exposed inch of her flesh for further signs of her sinfulness.
Reaching over her, he yanked her legs apart. She gritted her teeth as she felt his eyes sliding like snails over the white surface of her inner thighs. Up and up they slid until they leeched upon the forbidden succulence of her gaping young pussy. He licked his lips nervously as if in fear of this illegal, proscribed situation that his doubts and fears had forced them into.
Swallowing his choking saliva, he cleared his throat before speaking. "Guess I can't tell what you've let them do till I've looked inside."
Jodie tensed herself as she felt his hands fasten on the plumpness of her thighs as his stubby thumbs inserted themselves into the down-covered outer lips of her vagina.
In spite of her brain flashing a warning message, repeating, repeating "NO... NO... NO" in her pounding brain, her untouched pussy responded to the stimulus of the forbidden, incestuous fingers exploring the mystery of her maidenhood. As if spontaneously, a warm hot flood of desire coursed through her, causing the crystal-clear fluid to ooze and sparkle from her flowerlike love pit. One tentative finger slid exploringly into the unused tightness of her vaginal passage. Delicately, haltingly, a screaming lifelong millimeter at a time, the probing finger advanced until it was almost in register with the tender membrane of her maidenhead.
Magically it halted and her father's wondering voice came to her above a roaring sea of desire. "You know, kid, you might still be cherry at that."
He withdrew his fingers gently. The love juice glistened on them and smeared against her spread thighs.
He spoke again, his voice remote, like a surgeon who had just performed a satisfactory operation. "You keep it that way, do you hear me? Just to make sure, I'm going to check you-out every time you come home. This way, I'll make sure that no daughter of mine is hawking herself about like an alleycat."
Threading his belt back through the loops of his flared mod trousers, he smiled at her conspiratorially and left the room.
Jodie lay and stared at the broken door that swung to behind him. Her mind balked at the implications of the threats he had made to her. This was totally impossible, unbearable.
Gently easing her beaten, outraged body up from the bed, she padded about the room, collecting a few of her clothes and stuffing them into an overnight bag.
As far as she was concerned, this was the end. She was splitting, leaving this sick situation far behind her, and looking for somewhere she could live in dignity, peace and mutual trust. But where, that was the question. She had no money apart from a few dollars. Her friends' parents couldn't be expected to put her up in the middle of the night unless she explained the reason for her precipitous flight. And some outworn sense of family loyalty prevented her from exposing her father's sex-mad sickness for all the world to drool over.
A sudden thought came to her as she closed the lid of her packed case. Uncle Dick. That was it. She'd phone him right away. He'd understand and tell her what she should do. Her fingers fumbled as she dialed the number of his Hollywood pad. The cold remoteness of the ringing tone terrified her with the thought that he might be out and unable to help her.
There was a click, and the familiar comforting voice of her childhood friend and confidant answered sleepily.
"Dick here. What's happening out there?"
The words spilled from Jodie in a confused babble as she tried to explain what had happened.