Chapter 1

As his knees made contact with the silk stockings sheathing her lovely legs, Brenda begged him silently to let her go. Caught between fear and desire, she saw the glint of the madman in his eyes. "Let me see it!" he ordered. "Everything. Strip!" There was no escape now, no responsibility she could take for what was happening. As she unzipped her pleated skirt, she felt the first rush of pleasure, of freedom.. .her thighs opened-and he moved in. He threw back her skirt and beheld her bare, white thighs above her stockings. The beating of his heart frightened him. He thought he would suffocate. He closed his eyes involuntarily; his empty head was spinning; he ground his teeth, opening and closing his eyes, and shaking his head nervously.

He was unable to believe his good fortune and was trying to awake from his thrilling dream. He couldn't help but think of how this situation began.

On his bed in his hotel room Lew had found a writhing, naked girl, avidly watching a jacketless boy who was about to unbutton his pants. The latter was a stranger but he had seen the girl once or twice in the company of an older couple, presumably her parents, and in the hotel itself.

"You! Are you a resident of this hotel?"

The boy had already picked up his leather jacket from the bed.

"Get out of here!"

The boy hastened to obey. Lew followed him into the corridor.

"Before you go, you'd better give me your name and address. I shall have to report this."

The lad begged him not to report the matter to the management, to the police, to his parents; and Lew, soft-hearted Lew said "All right! I'll have that watch. Give me your wallet! A thousand francs! I'll keep this. Here's your wallet! If I ever set eyes on you again, watch out!"

When Lew re-entered his room the girl was frantically re-dressing herself. Without a word he went to the window, opened it and watched for the frightened boy, who emerged from the hotel and fled, turning his head at the corner of the street without slowing down.

"Cowardly bastard!" he hissed, and turned at the sound of the girl turning of the door handle.

"Before you go, Mademoiselle, I think you owe me an explanation. Close the door!"

Obeying, she turned to him.

"What can I say, Monsieur?"

"How did you get in here?"

"I gave the chambermaid five hundred francs. She said you were away for the day and she would tidy up before you got back."

"You're staying in this hotel. What's wrong with your own room?"

"My parents are away for the day too, but I thought.. .if they happen to come back early.. .in my own room they'll catch me, but in another room.. .well, they'd think I'd gone shopping or something like that; and then.. .I didn't want him to know who I was, where I was staying. He didn't know how to arrange it and neither did I; so, rather than run the risk of going to a strange hotel where they might have asked awkward questions, I asked Yvette.. .that's the chambermaid's name.. .she's a good sort.. .I hope you won't get her into trouble..."

"I shan't get her into trouble. She's done that herself-with your help. From your friend I got a watch and a thousand francs as the price of my' silence as far as he's concerned; but I'm still bound to report Yvette to the owner of this place and it's my duty to warn your parents that I arrived just in time to prevent your having a bit with that lily-livered lout who'd just run away leaving you to face the music."

"If you let him get away with it for a watch and a thousand francs, I'll give you two thousand." He shook his head. "No. Strip!"

"Horrified, her eyes wide and bulging, her jaw sagging, she shook her head from side to side, while her parched lips struggled to form the word Never.

"Strip.. .or else!"

He took a step in her direction, pulled her roughly to him, and pressed his parted lips to her resisting mouth.

"All right!" he snapped, and reached for the telephone.

"No!"

"Take your clothes off! Be quick about it! Every stitch!"

"I can't. I'll give you every franc I have but you mustn't tell the manager, and get Yvette sacked; and my parents-my mother would never get over it and I tremble to think of what my father would do. Please! I'll give you all the money I have. You're an Englishman. You couldn't be so mean. I'm English too-well, half and half. Daddy is English and Mummy is French, but I'm British. Don't you see what it would mean to my parents?"

"Your parents will never know about you and that other chap or about you and me," he said, re-moving his jacket. "You were ready for it when I came in. I saw you. Well, I can give it to you better than him. Get your pants off and we'll have some fun 'til your parents come home!"

He unzipped his trousers.

"Take all the money I have," she begged, "and go with a prostitute! Ten thousand francs! You could get one who'd do it much better than I. I know nothing about.. .love. It'd be much more fun with a professional."

The fact that he had dropped his trousers to his feet and was stepping out of them convinced her that her entreaties were falling on deaf ears. He re-moved his shirt and singlet.

"Whores are all right when there's nothing else to be had, but I've taken a imagine to you and I assure you that as little as you know about lovemaking, I can squeeze out of you between now and nightfall a hundred times more excitement than I'd get out of the most famous pro in Paris. I shall teach you more today than you'd normally learn in ten years-unless you'd rather I report this whole business to the manager and your parents..."

She turned, and made a dash for the door but he caught her, thrust her away from the door, which he locked. He took out the key and threw it on top of the wardrobe.

"I'll deny it," she cried, frantic. "You've no witnesses."

It was one of his unlucky days. Indeed, most of his days were unlucky, sexually. It was true that he had no witnesses. Yvette would certainly deny that she had let this girl and her mythical lover into his room; and even if the manager believed him and sacked Yvette, what benefit would Lew derive from it? Yvette was a "gold digger" but Lew admired such women. She had always made him pay for the pleasure she had given him but he had spent some thrilling nights with her and he looked forward to having more fun with her. There was nothing to be gained from engineering her dismissal; nor could he see any sense in causing trouble between this young girl and her parents. If they accepted his account of the circumstances in which he had discovered their daughter and her prospective lover they would box the girl's ears, stop her pocket money for a few weeks, and keep her henceforth under stricter control; but Lew always thought of Lew and he was not interested in making others miserable, except when he derived some personal benefit from their discomfiture. He admitted to himself that this slip of a girl "had him by the short hairs."

But, Lew! Lew, you son of a Cockney bitch! What about the time-honored art of bluff!? Get in there, boy!

Out of the despair came the voice of hope, and the keen ear of the "spiv" (everybody has their dishonest streak, after all) was not deaf to the ringing of Bow-Bells (as if the bells of Bow Church could stop him now!).

Lew peeled off his underpants and his erect phallus throbbed and glowed under the amazed gaze of the no-longer-so-victorious virgin.

"No witnesses!" he exclaimed, forcing a laugh, "and you think Yvette is on your side? Listen, kid! I've got Yvette in the palm of my hand. If I tell her to spill the beans she'll do just like I tell her. She loses her job, who cares? She only has to snap her fingers and she's got another job. And anyway, I've friends here in Paris who'd always find a place for Yvette. Listen! It's time to cut out the talk. It doesn't take me long to take off my shoes and socks. If by then you're not stripping, I'll be after ringing the old guy manager about you and your boyfriend."

He stepped out of his shoes and tugged off his beige nylon socks. Naked, except for his watch and a flashy ring on his right hand, he approached her. She retreated until the calves of her legs made con-tact with the edge of the bed and she was forced to sit. His naked knees touched the silk of the stockings which sheathed her lovely legs.

Her eyes involuntarily adored his pulsating penis. She was being forced to surrender, but she also longed to taste him. She could have resisted the longing but she might have run the risk of allowing him to cause a scandal. Her fear and longing together turned her to a trembling jelly.

Brenda took hope from his hesitation. She wanted a man, but this one would not insist upon having her. Was he beginning to regret his attempts to force her to surrender to him? If only that were true! Perhaps he was not such a bad sort after all. Silently, she begged him to let her go, but he laughed hoarsely and in his eyes she saw the glint of the madman. Her trembling was that of a woman afraid, not that of a human bitch "in heat." She was terrified at the thought of his debauching her but she no longer dared resist him and decided that she ought to appear cooperative.. .try to make him enjoy his possession of her.

"A nice pair of thighs!" he hissed, "but the treasure is between them. Let me see it! Everything! Quick! Belly, tits, the lot! Strip!"

There was no avenue of escape. The circumstances relieved her of all responsibility for what was happening. and she rejoiced in her imposed freedom, deriving a certain pleasure from removing her blouse in a man's presence. She knew her body was lovely and she was proud to have even this loathsome, ugly little brute admire it. Eagerly, she unzipped her pleated plaid skirt and eased it down her long, slender thighs. Lew took it rudely from her and threw it into the only armchair in the room while she removed her white nylon slip.

Lew croaked, his throat as dry as dust.

"Look at that!" Christ, you'd make good eating! Just that little bra, those panties and.. .what's that thing that holds up your nylons?"

"Girdle! Suspender belt!"

"Get 'em off! Come on! Struth, this is my day! Get in there, Grace!"

His was the first penis she had ever seen and in truth it delighted her. She wondered at the size, stiffness, and glow of it, and she thanked God that He had given her the power to make it quiver so and reach for the clouds in that impatient way. Noticing that she was staring, he patted the under-side of his rod with the palm of his right hand.

"It's all yours, sister," he gasped.

'very carefully she peeled off her bra and then her stockings, raising first one foot and then the other to within a few inches of his nose. He took the second foot in his hands, kissed it, nibbled it, sucked her toes, and bit her heel.

"You're naughty," she sighed, warm now.

Again that crazy laugh. "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

With the simultaneous removal of her panties and suspender belt, she was beautifully, virginally bare and so defenseless that he unintentionally risked throwing away his big chance.

"Jesus! Am I going. to make you suffer! You'll scream, lady! Come here!"

Suffer? Scream? Escape! Not a hope! The door locked and the key on top of the wardrobe! He would kill her, she thought. Why, Valerie's finger had always seemed excruciatingly thick, but what he was going to push into her was four of five times as fat as her beloved Valerie's beloved finger. Valerie, ma chere Valerie! If only you were here, my little tigress! You would claw this lion to death.

Lew pulled Brenda to him. His hard, cruel lips assaulted her soft mouth, which had hitherto known only the chaste kisses of boys and the sweet caresses of Valerie's tongue. His mouth was wide and his tongue vibrant. Brenda parted her lips and advanced her tongue to meet his. She licked his large, rarely brushed and rotting teeth; she felt his vivacious phallus against the smooth curve of her belly. She wanted him, but she wanted him to die-on top of her, afterwards, if necessary-but preferably before he had the chance to sully her utterly.

His fingers found her jewel, and her teeth at his earlobe thanked him for the rays of pleasure which went out to all her private parts from the tips of his ne'er-do-well digits. Her clitoris swelled and she knew he was her master. Her body writhed under him and he knew she was his slave, and as if she were a book into which he could delve at will, in search of thrills and escape from the monotony of everyday life, he opened the book at the middle and began "reading" aloud:

"My finger explores your sex, which is open, moist, inviting. As my fingers delve deeper into you I feel the beating of your depraved heart, which pumps out the message 'Ready!' I've been ready for years; ready, waiting, masturbating and throwing away money on whores; waiting, dreaming-dreaming wet and hoping-screaming my hope crying my desire.. .in vain. To hell with God, the lousy bastard! Long live Satan! Long live this! And this and this AND THIS AND THIS!"

He was in her. He was deep. He was deeper. He was big, bigger, biggest. He was pain and joy. He was shameful joy. He was blood and joyous shame. Disgusting, cruel, evil, delicious. Blood escaping, bloody thighs, bloody bellies, bedclothes drinking blood and her humiliation, her release and her ecstasy. She was asunder, but she remained concenrated around and about his driving merciless, advancing, probing and retreating pole. It was total, his having her. He gave her the salt in her open wounds but she wrenched from him the honey demanded by the greedy tongue of her young loins. She opened herself wider and wider, painfully but happily, and she swallowed him, hated him and blessed him. It was all too wild. She didn't know how to roll the nectar round her vaginal tongue; and if he had ever known how, he had forgotten. It was a glutton's "bean-feast," a meal for peasants, not an occasion for a gourmet's rejoicing.

Afterwards, she dung to him, regretting her initial reluctance, grateful that he had chased away her adolescent boyfriend and that he had so nastily forced himself upon her. With Valerie at boarding school, it had been thrilling, but not one tenth of this. She had long wanted a man and only fear had prevented her having one earlier. And she had never imagined a man could be so much more satisfactory than her beloved girl. What a pity this one was such a horrid man! Imagine what it would be lie with a man who combined his erotic power with the charm, sweetness and tenderness of a Valerie Cordell. Oh, Valeria! It hurts so down there. Lick away the pain! Kiss me, my darling!

Lew stood before her, holding his penis in his right hand.

"Suck it dean!" he commanded.

She almost vomited at the thought of it and she shook her head "No."

He repeated his order, more curt.

"I couldn't. I'm sorry, but-"

"You'll do everything-everything-I tell you to do. What you've just gone through was the beginning, a slight foretaste of things to come. Get this straight! I command, you obey-or else! Do you lick or do I telephone?"

As she moved her lips obediently towards his growing phallus he squeezed the greasy pipe so that her tongue received the final globule of sperm from his recent orgasm. Disgusted, she turned her head away to spit, but his agile hand seized her chin and his mouth swooped down to her ear.

"Swallow!"

Since she had to obey she decided to taste his gift before allowing it to drop into her stomach. She rotated her tongue in her mouth, obeyed his command, and licked her lips. He smiled and thrust his sex into her mouth, obliging her to savor the mixture of his cream and the juices of her own lust. Voluntarily, she would not have done such a thing, but obliged to do so she found it by no means unpleasant. The taste was neither agreeable nor other-wise, but Brenda liked the feel of his throbbing, eager "peninsula" in her mouth; and she went down on it until its helmet blocked the aperture of her throat. Her eyes turned upwards, and observed the look of victory on his cruel, ugly face. She was surprised to discover that slavery, erotic slavery, was thrilling.

Still, she could not help hoping he would soon set her free. She knew escape was out of the question and she was afraid to suggest he let her go, since his hurt pride might lead him to carry out his original threat of reporting Yvette to the manager and her to her parents; but, having learned how delicious copulation can be with a scoundrel, she would have liked to leave without his taking her again, so that she could keep her second orgasm for a different sort of man, a man worthy of her affection, one who respected her and saw her as some-thing more than a gaping, dripping vagina. Brenda knew her hopes were vain.

His fingers returned to her sex.

"You're crying out for it," he exclaimed.

It was true. At the touch of his fingers, her longing for his further use of her drove out all thought of escape. The weight of his hard body on her belly was welcome, his hairy chest crushing the fragile fruit of her desire-inflated breasts. She was no longer the greedy, fearful ingenue. She felt the second assault of his manhood on her tender tunnel and she voluntarily opened herself to receive him so that every millimeter of her vagina made acquaintance with every hair, every ripple, every intoxicating vein of his straining staff. She was at peace this time, knowing more or less what was coming, and determined to taste it, not just have it thrown madly into her guts without having it pause on her palate.

As he rode her strongly, deeply, slowly, she rode him as well, making her rhythm conform to his so that they were really together, just like a couple who have been lovers long enough to be in tune with each other, but not long enough for the melody to have become a bit of a bore.

For Lew, it was good; it had never been as good before and it went on and on, deliciously rising, rising all the time, reaching the top, which was never the top, but just a springboard for the assault on a still higher (and hitherto invisible, unimaginable) peak. There was the odor of sweat and loin-oils, the sound of smacking lips coming from the fusion of his sex and hers; there were sighs and breathless groans, there were grunts of energy expended (but not wasted) and there were whispered words: "Never dreamed.. .like this; Yes, oh, yes!; More!; Just how it should be!; Really got this one!; Wide open!; The whole lot inside!; Come soon!"

When it came, the nigh simultaneous coming was long, easy and sweet. It was almost like the world-no beginning and no ending; or like the old solider-no dying, but a gentle fading away; fading, fading, exquisite fading, her flaccid, grateful lips seeking his, and him continuing to ease his deflated pride in and out of her serene satisfaction. She didn't want him to stop nor did she will him not to stop; and he did not bring his fornicating to an end-they just fizzled out, peacefully, into a sort of open-eyed, fully-aware sleep, which lingers on after the song is ended.

Their appeased bodies remained in contact. From time to time one's mouth would find the others; and his hand would squeeze her breasts or buttocks while her delicate fingers traced invisible designs on his skin.

Within her his phallus began to grow again, to harden and throb, to reach out for the bottom of her pit on iniquity. Feeling it, Brenda trembled in anticipation of the joy in store for her. She pulled him closer to her, her fierce, hungry arms crushing the breath out of him. He moved slowly deeper into her and then almost entirely out of her; her crotch rose to him as he pushed and her bottom re-treated as he withdrew. The tempo quickened and two sweating beasts roared, writhed, bit, spat, and dissolved in the flames of their own passion.

Exhausted and painfully hot, they fell apart, panting in triumphant and happy discomfort.

Brenda cut into a long silence with the suggestion that Lew take her to lunch. The rat bared its teeth.

"Where the hell d'ye think I'm going to find the nickels to pay for it?" he snapped. "All I've got is the 'hush money' from your boyfriend."

"I've got enough money. I want to celebrate-to eat and drink as never before. I've got it! Make it a Dutch treat!"

"All right! We'll go to a bistro quite near here, which I know well. Get a good meal there for five hundred francs!"

"You can't celebrate in a cheap cafe. I want to drink champagne, have caviar, sweetbreads, a feast, a party! If you'll take me to 'I'Ecu de France,' I'll pay for both of us."

Triumph for Lew! He knew' he could get her to buy him a "slap-up" lunch, to feed him in style, if he played his cards cunningly.

In the taxi she slipped a ten thousand franc note into his hand.

"For the lunch!" she whispered.

He put the note in his pocket.

"I'll keep this," he said, "and you pay the bill with what else you've got. It'll be a new experience for me to see a waiter's face when a lovely young bird pays for my eats."

Lew thought it was definitely becoming his lucky day. After having transacted a good bit of business at the Cafe de la Paix, he had robbed Brenda's would-be debaucher of one pound sterling and a wristwatch and then spent almost two glorious hours with a passionate, beautiful young woman. He had swindled her out of ten pounds on the way to a smart restaurant where she was going to buy him a better and more expensive meal than he had ever consumed. Furthermore, after lunch she would still be his for four or five hours. His heart sang "It's a great day for the barrow-boys."

In restaurants Lew rarely (if ever) ate what he fancied. His choice was always dictated by the price-cheapness being the criterion. At "I'Ecu de France," however, he chose the most expensive dishes and wines, merely because they were dear, and in spite of the fact that he could have preferred two or three thick, juicy pork sausages, crisp, golden brown chips, and green peas with a print of Truman's Best Bitter Beer, followed by a chunk of apple pie with a bit of Cheddar cheese and a cup of strong tea with milk and two spoonfuls of sugar. After a French vermouth (Noilly Prat), they both had lobster soup, which is guaranteed to upset all but the steeliest of stomachs, salted roe of Russian sturgeon accompanied by a glass or two of 'veuve Clicquot (a costly, but mediocre, effervescent white wine from Champagne) and "sole norrnande," with which they drank a bottle of Chateau Yquem. Brenda asked for "ris de veau" and Lew ordered a beefsteak "Chateaubriand" with "sauce bernaise." With these two dishes they drank a bottle of Rothschild. After a delicious new cheese, Bleu de Bresse, and a bottle of Beaujolais, Brenda and Lew had coffee and liqueur de Calvados. Lew felt good and he seemed to grow to twice his normal size when Brenda paid the bill and the waiter cast envious, admiring glances at the stunted Cockney whose slave she was.

Having allowed Brenda to pay for the taxi which took them from the hotel to the restaurant, Lew saw no point in denying her the privilege of meeting the cost of their return. He did protest, how-ever, when (upon their arrival at the hotel) she endeavored to slip away to her own bed, leaving him to regain his own room alone.

"You've only paid half the price of my silence," he insisted.

"But I've had too much too drink. I'm too tired to be of any use to you. When do you leave Paris?"

"Tomorrow at midday."

"I'll try to get, free to spend the morning with you-a couple of hours."

"You won't TRY. You WILL get the morning free to come to me. But in the meantime you're coming with me until your parents come home."

The tone of his voice contained the threat that her failure to comply would lead to her denunciation and she didn't dare risk that.

She felt so great a need for sleep that, in his room, she undressed upon receipt of his command. She thought that the sooner they had tired each other the sooner he would sleep and allow her to creep away to her own bed. He too removed all his clothing. Instead of throwing her on the bed, as she had expected, he dragged her roughly to a small round table which stood at the foot of the bed. He forced her backwards across the table, opened her thighs, and hitched her legs over his shoulders. His eager penis nudged the aperture of her sex, which it found moist enough to enable an easy invasion; and he was about to enter when she turned her hanging head towards the window and emitted a horrified howl. She fell from the table, escaping from his grasp, and crawled away from the window.

"Close the curtains!" she cried. "They've been open all the time-before lunch, too. Look at all those people on the other side!"

Unashamedly bare, Lew looked out the window and saw, on the opposite side of the narrow street, ten or twelve men, women and teen-age girls staring into his room from the wide, high windows of what was probably either a studio or some sort of workshop. He smiled and waved to them and most of them laughed and waved back. He turned to Brenda, who was dressing as quickly as her inebriated, frightened hands would allow.

"Come here!" he shouted.

"Close the curtains, you idiot!"

He moved quickly to her, slapped her face sharply and dragged her back to the round table.

"The curtains stay open," he said. "Get your skirt and panties off in double-quick time!"

"Not with all those people watching!"

"They know neither you nor me. If they don't want to see, let 'em go to hell. If they do want to watch, it can do us no harm-in fact it'll add a bit of spice. Hurry up, unless you want me to get on the phone!"

Hating him, but secretly thrilled at the thought of receiving him under the jealous gaze of a dozen strangers, she hurriedly removed her slip, brassiere, and panties. On the table again, her head hanging downwards while her thighs formed a wide, beseeching "V," she shuddered with joy and pain at the first, wicked onslaught of his proud sex organ, which found the very bottom of her love-tunnel. She soon became so excited that she just had to come into closer contact with him: she raised her head and shoulders until she was sitting on the table, her hands gripping the back of his head and pulling his face close enough to hers to permit a kiss. Her tongue struggled sloppily with his and her loins broke down into an orgasm which caused her to sink her teeth into his lips. Feeling his own warm blood on his tongue, Lew began to batter her sex with more fury and soon, crying out, she reached another climax almost at the same time as his seed finally seethed and gushed into her.

Brenda had forgotten that she and Lew were not alone but he was more of a trouper than she. His public applauded him. He withdrew his slimy sex from hers, turned to the watchers and bowed, holding his scarcely reduced phallus on the palm of his open right hand. He roused Brenda from the stupor of sexual satiety with a slap on her bottom and at his command she very reluctantly joined him in front of the open window. He wiped and squeezed his manhood with his right hand, from which he obliged her to lick the mixture of his sperm and the fluid of her own vagina. The onlookers clapped their hands excitedly until Brenda closed the curtains and floated into her loathed lover's arms. After a long kiss, he carried her to the bed, where they slept until eight o'clock.

After another long session of fornication, Brenda said she really must return to her own room before her parents came back. Lew shook his sand-colored head, forcing his lips into a sneer which was, in fact, an inversed grin.

"I've got to go, damn you!" she said angrily. "I've gone through hell since noon to persuade you not to tell your childish tales to Mummy and Daddy. What'll be the sense of all that horror if I don't go home now? As it is, I've got to make up some fantastic story to explain where I've been all day-what I've seen and done; but if they're al-ready in their room, or if they get home in an hour or two and find I'm not yet in, what do you think I'm going to tell them to explain my absence? I know Daddy will jump to the conclusion I've been with a boy and then the feathers will certainly fly. Do what you like! You've had a good time. The least you can do in return is keep your part of the bargain. I debased myself on condition that you would not inform my parents and the manager of the hotel that Yvette allowed me to receive a boyfriend in your room. And now you expect me to run the risk of their discovering I've spent the day with you. No fear! I'm going now, before they get back."

He said nothing more until she was dressed. When she was about to leave, he rose from the bed and took her in his arms, almost tenderly.

"Come back for an hour or two when they've gone to sleep!" he begged. "You have a room of your own? Well then, they'll never notice if you're away for an hour. Come back and I promise they'll never know anything about today!"

"Be reasonable, Lew," she said, touched by his sex-starved need of her. "We've had fun together. If I go back now, they need never know about it; but leaving my room during the night, for longer than it takes to go to the toilet, is too risky. I'd like to do it, just as much as you'd like me to, but I dare not. Kiss me and let me go."

He opened the door and she stepped cautiously out into the corridor.

"If you don't come back," he hissed as he closed the door, "your parents and the manager will receive phone calls tomorrow."

Brenda had been in bed more than an hour when her parents returned, but she had not slept. Recalling the thrills Lew had given her, she had lain in bed imagining her surrender to two or three boys and men whom she liked, and hoping some way could be found of their realizing she was theirs for the asking without her having to cheapen herself by taking the initiative. What a pity, she thought, that she should owe such ecstasy to so revolting a creature as Lew Grace! How strange, too, that she could hate a man and yet delight in the things he did to her and made her do to and with him!

Feigning sleep, she made no reply when her parents first knocked, but more and harder rapping brought her, yawning, to the door.

Mrs. Crosland, failing to see through her daughter's deceptions, put Brenda back into bed, tucking the clothes well around her, and tiptoed out of the room.

"The poor darling was asleep, George," she said to her husband. "She's tired and so are we. We'll have a good gossip over breakfast in the morning. Good night, cheri!"

At midnight Brenda was still awake, and at one o'clock and two o'clock she had not yet slept, so occupied were her thoughts with the events of the day and with her impatience to have a lover, not a hateful man who could thrill her lips, her breasts and her loins without touching her heart (except to fill it with bitterness) but one who would lust after her flesh while holding her in affection, a man whose desire for her would not prevent his respecting her, even in the comment of his triumphant possession of her and afterwards. Her thoughts ex-cited her. Her fingers wandered from time to time to her vagina, whose warm, moist, open vulnerability betrayed her urgent need of a man.

It was almost three o'clock when she glided into sleep, Lew's final threat ringing in her ears.

Lew had less difficulty falling asleep. He was not accustomed to copulating five times in nine or ten hours. Physically tired, and well pleased with his day, he wanted to get as much sleep as possible be-fore Brenda returned to pay the final installment of her debt to him. He'd need a few hours sleep if he was to fulfill his intention to give Brenda not a minute of peace from the moment of her arrival to that of her departure.

"Half past five? What does that silly bitch think she's up to? If she thinks I'm bluffing, she's in for an unpleasant surprise. Fallen asleep probably! Damn and blast! Why didn't I ask her for her room number? If I knew where to find Yvette, she'd help me. The night porter? No, he'd never dare tell me.. .more than his job's worth."

He put on his garish dressing gown and went out to wander along the corridors, hoping to recognize as Brenda's, one of the pairs of shoes outside the doors of the various rooms. There were several rooms before which stood smart ladies' shoes, but he saw none which seemed more- likely than the others to be Brenda's, so, having explored all the corridors of the hotel, he returned to his own room, which he was about to enter when he noticed a slim figure emerge from a room at the other end of the dimly lit corridor. He remained at his door, hoping and almost sure the hurrying young lady was making her way to his bed. His hopes were justified and he was so thrilled at the sight of her night gowned legs flicking open her dark-blue dressing gown with every hasty step she made that he forgot to chide her for being late. He threw her onto the bed, dragged her dressing gown and diaphanous nylon nightie off her and at once exerted his mastery over her tender, eager body.

It went on and on, climax following climax. He had her slowly, smoothly. Then he took her brutally.

She was lying on her back and she gave herself as a bitch receives the amorous visitations of a dog.

He knew this was his last chance of having her and very probably his last copulation for many months with any female other than a prostitute, so he made every effort to keep the promise he had made to himself-to give her not a minute's peace. But he lacked the necessary stamina, and so did she. Although such a thing was far from the thoughts of either of them, after more than an hour of scarcely interrupted, varied and mutually delightful loving, they sank into a kissing, fondling doze which developed into a sleep, in which their satisfied bodies were as one mound of warm, perspiration-moistened, sperm-flecked flesh.

Lew awoke eager to resume the game of love, but when he roused her from sleep, she immediately noticed that the room was flooded with natural light.

"Good God!" she cried, looking at her watch. "If they haven't noticed my absence, it's a miracle."

He tried to restrain her, but she slipped her nightdress over her head, pulled her dressing gown quickly around her trembling body, and fled.

Her nervous fingers had no control over the key of her door. She dropped it, picked it up, tried to put it in the keyhole, dropped it again, and was picking it up for a second time when her parents emerged, in a state of extreme agitation, from their bedroom.

"Brenda, not dressed. Where've you been?"

"Toilet."

They followed her into her room and closed the door.

"Which toilet?"

"Third floor. This one was occupied."

"But your mother's been to look for you in this toilet," her father said. "And the one on the first floor, and the one above this. Brenda, where've you been?"

Her blush deepening, she turned her head away from her beloved and very loving father.

"But, Daddy," she whispered, "I've told you I was at the toilet."

"How long, darling?"

"A long time, Mummy. My tummy's a bit up-set."

Brenda's French mother was just as anxious as her English father: And guessing the truth, she, Brenda's mother, wanted to get him out of the way as quickly as possible so that she and the girl could save whatever was salvageable from the wreck.

"Ma pauvre petite cherie, you must always come to me when you're not well. Get into bed, and keep warm! Leave us for a few minutes, Georges!"

George, whom his spouse insisted on calling "Georges" in the French manner, was not ready to retire. As Madame removed their daughter's dressing gown, George approached, and cast admiring glances upon the young breasts which were half-exposed by the decolletage of the girl's insubstantial nightie.

"Mady, a girl who's not feeling well doesn't disappear for more than an hour and then turn up, in her nightdress, cling to have spent the entire hour in a toilet you yourself visited twice during the time without finding her. What's that?"

He pointed to the base of Brenda's neck where Lew had bitten her and then sucked the wound until her pale skin bore a red blemish about the size of a sixpenny piece.

"It's a fever-spot. George. Go and order break-fast in our room! I'll be with you in a few minutes."

George looked more closely at the red spot on Brenda's neck. Then he looked her in the eyes. Guilt was written on her face.

"Get up Brenda and stop worrying your mother! You're not ill. Mady, you know as well as I do what that red spot is. She's been with some monster, who hasn't been content with depriving my little girl of her innocence, but he had to go whole-hog, and practice his filthy, sadistic tricks on her. I don't care if he's half my age and twice my size, I'll break him in two, the filthy blackguard. Brenda, who is it? Tell me his name, his room number! I'll have him chased from this hotel. I'll have him branded for life. Who is he, Brenda?"

"Keep calm, Georges! Whatever happened, and whoever's to blame, you're not helping matters by getting hysterical and telling the whole hotel about it. Anyway, Georges, Brenda's not a child and she's pretty enough and attractive enough to please a quite normal man. She hasn't complained of being raped, so she and he are equally guilty or equally innocent of offense. Why make a scandal and get your 'block' knocked off into the bargain? Let Brenda and me talk the matter over, as one woman to another!"

"I'm the person to settle this matter. There'll be no scandal Mady, you've tried to make me look small from the day we married, but I assure you that although I'm a peace-loving man, I'm in position to teach this man a lesson he'll never for get. Brenda, I want his name-at once!"

"I can't tell you, Daddy."

"So you admit there is someone? But you refuse to tell me who he is?"

"Yes, I refuse. I'm not proud of what's happened and I'd have done anything to avoid giving you both the pain of knowing about it. I love you both and I'm proud of you and I always want you to be proud of me...."

". . . and yet you, my daughter, whom I've cherished more than my own life-you throw yourself at some filthy, syphilitic stranger, who had one girl the night before last, you last night, and he'll have another tonight. Who is he? No answer? 'very well! Mother, will you leave us alone, please!"

Mrs. Crosland looked from her daughter to her husband, scarcely able to believe that they were the two people who formed her one reason for living. She was broad-minded, but still she was shocked by her daughter's conduct; and she was even more shocked at George's suggestion that she leave the room. She knew what it meant.

Her thoughts went back twenty years to the last time George asked her to leave him alone with one of their children, Francis, who had died in a German concentration camp in 1943. There had followed an Edwardian beating which had brought screams even from the throat of brave young Francis, whose excessive courage and sense of fair play had later cost him his life. Even if a mother admits that her husband may spank their fourteen-year old son, must she also permit him to chastise corporally an eighteen-year-old daughter, who is sufficiently adult to have a lover?

Permit? Mrs. Crosland never hesitated to give George her views on any subject under the sun, but he accepted or rejected her advice as he thought fit. Without being a tyrant he reserved for himself the last word on all really important matters and al-though he was not a narrow-minded man, she knew that he regarded his beloved daughter's defection from purity as a tragedy of the first importance. Mrs. Crosland decided not to augment her husband's anger by questioning his authority and' she left the room.

"Are you going to give me the man's name?" George Crosland asked, along with his daughter.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she said. "No."

"I want one point to be quite clear in your mind," he said. "Furious, disgusted, and disappointed as your mother and I are by your unwholesome liaison with.. .whoever he is, what really upsets me in that you won't tell us who he is. We have a very good reason for wanting to know and you're not yet of an age to adopt this independent attitude-as though you lacked confidence in our judgment. No father-likes to thrash a daughter of your age, so I want to give you a final chance to spare me this unpleasantness."

Brenda had not the slightest intention of telling her father with whom she had spent nearly all the previous day and part of the night. To do so might have spared her a spanking, which would be physically and psychologically as painful for her as her father insisted it would be for him. Why did she insist on holding her tongue? To protect a man she despised? Yes, to prevent her dear father from annoying the repugnant individual to whom she had hurried shortly before dawn-not because she feared him and wanted to silence his libellous tongue, but because she desired and needed a man and he was the only one immediately available. After an after-noon and evening of thrills to which she had submitted reluctantly, he had bestowed upon her at daybreak delights to which she had submitted, joys which she had sought. Hateful as he was, Lew, in satisfying his own bestial needs, had soothed the sexual suffering which had prematurely sundered her from her psychological slumber. And she was grateful to him. Her flesh cried "Lew Grace!" but her lips and tongue would have withered rather than utter his name.

Her silence convinced her father that the anonymous one was "Prince "Charming" who held sway over both her heart and her body, and jealousy took complete possession of the loving and jealous male parent, whose wife had long lost her charm. Brenda was young and extremely succulent in her low-cut, transparent nightie. She knew the intoxication of carnal love and she was as ripe as the many shop-girls, shorthand typists, maid-servants, and factory girls in whose direction he daily cast concupiscent glances.

Forgetting that desirable Brenda was his own daughter, he dragged her from her bed, upon which he seated himself, laid her across his trembling knees and raised the skirt of her flimsy nightdress until his eyes were able to feast themselves upon the rosy fruits of her pretty buttocks. Resisting the temptation to pull apart the cheeks of her posterio and plunge his tongue into her anus, he delivered five or six smart, but not very painful, blows to her bottom with the palm of his febrile hand. His final blow differed from the previous ones in that it was somewhat harder and in that it was not followed by the instant removal of his hand, which remained on the smooth, meaty curve, stroking, adoring, wanting, but not daring.

He fingered the ripe peaches and the drops of satisfying his own bestial needs, had soothed the sexual suffering which had prematurely sundered her from her psychological slumber. And she was grateful to him. Her flesh cried "Lew Grace!" but her lips and tongue would have withered rather than utter his name.

Her silence convinced her father that the anonymous one was "Prince-Charming" who held sway over both her heart and her body, and jealousy took complete possession of the loving and jealous male parent, whose wife had long lost her charm. Brenda was young and extremely succulent in her low-cut, transparent nightie. She knew the intoxication of carnal love and she was as ripe as the many shop-girls, shorthand typists, maid-servants, and factory girls in whose direction he daily cast concupiscent glances.

Forgetting that, desirable Brenda was his own daughter, he dragged her from her bed, upon which he seated himself, laid her across his trembling knees and raised the skirt of her flimsy nightdress until his eyes were able to feast themselves upon the rosy fruits of her pretty buttocks. Resisting the temptation to pull apart the cheeks of her posterio and plunge his tongue into her anus, he delivered five or six smart, but not very painful, blows to her bottom with the palm of his febrile hand. His final blow differed from the previous ones in that it was somewhat harder and in that it was not followed by the instant removal of his hand, which remained on the smooth, meaty curve, stroking, adoring, wanting, but not daring.

He fingered the ripe peaches and the drops of saliva rolled inwards from the corners of his mouth to the middle of his lower lip, from where they fell, as one large tear, onto the roundness of one of her posterior globes. He lowered his lips to her ass, to kiss away the brilliant jewel of spittle, which re-treated from his advancing mouth and ran down the crease between her buttocks. Pursuing the disintegrating drop of saliva, his snout came to contact with Brenda's sex, for she, instinctively or with willful perversity had turned over on her father's lap, and opened her legs.

His tongue invaded her vagina and his lips and teeth tugged gently at her swollen clitoris. Her thighs closed about his head and she groaned, her whole body racked with joy, shame, and desire. Hotter and hotter, higher and higher, deep, deeper, deepest, she rose to the summit of . pleasure, squealing, entreating and shivering in her apogee, and then she sank into the bitterest depth out of shame at her own conduct and disgust at that of the man whose tongue had just thrilled her.

Flinging herself from her debaucher's knees, she buried her weeping face in her pillow, and her strangled voice reached his ears.

"Go now! Quickly! I want to be alone! All day!"

He crept out of the room, and rejoined his wife, who, having heard no screams of pain or sounds of savage beating, made a move to plant a grateful kiss upon his lips; but he turned his face and rubbed her cheek with his, fearful that, kissing his lips, she would taste the juices of their child's loins thereon.

"She's all right," he said, "but unhappy, humiliated, and repentant. She'd like to be left alone. We'd better keep our appointment with the Vandenburgs. On the way out I'll ask the receptionist to send lunch up to her room; and we won't stay away longer than is necessary."

Mrs. Crosland wanted to go in and comfort Brenda, but George insisted that the girl had specifically asked to be left undisturbed.

Brenda waited until she heard her parents leave their room before beginning the hurried packing of her suitcases.

She left the hotel and took refuge in a nearby cafe, from which she telephoned Lew, asking him to meet her there as soon as possible. He, thinking her summons; indicated her readiness for another farewell session of fornication, assured her he would be with her in five or ten minutes.

Waiting for his arrival, she scribbled a note to her mother, explaining that she would never again live under the same roof as a father who was capable of smacking the bottom of his eighteen-year-old daughter; that they must not worry about her, since she was going to join a very good friend-from her boarding school days-a girl who lived in Normandy with her parents. She promised to write of-ten to her mother, adding "If you love me, and I know you do, please don't pursue me! You can't imagine how humiliated I am by what I have done, by your finding out about it, and especially by Daddy's beating me. He didn't hurt me physically, but his lifting my nightie and playfully slapping my behind made me . feel even filthier than the other man's complete possession of me had done. Don't be offended with him, Mummy! He did what he thought his duty. I shall go on loving him, but I'd rather not see him again until all this is far be hind us. Au revoir, ma chere Maman!"

She was addressing the envelope to her mother at the hotel when Lew arrived.

Running eagerly to him, she surprised him by throwing her arms about him and kissing him lewdly, seemingly indifferent to the stares of the waiters and two or three clients.

She poured into his ear the tale of her parents discovering her misdeed, of her father beating her (but not of the other liberties he had taken with her body) and she told him she had run away from them and was going to accompany him to Great Britain.

Lew shook his head, his cynical upside down grin on his ill-shaven face.

"No go, girlie! I'm all for a bit of dirty fun with a tart, but I've no use for the clinging type. It's hard enough for a guy to make enough to keep himself, without having to feed and clothe a judy an, all.

"But I'm not the clinging sort, Lew. And I don't expect you either to pay my fare or to support me. I'm British, you know, so I can get work in Great Britain-"

"You mean in England?"

"I mean in Great Britain. You and I can have lots of fun together. You'll be able to mess about with me at all hours of the day and night. We'll go fifty-fifty in the rent, food and all that sort of thing. I've got enough money to keep me going until I get a job, and when you're tired of me, you can throw me out, because once I've had time to look around a bit and get to know people, I'll find room somewhere. Anyway, I've got a very dear friend in London. We were at boarding school together in Aberystwith, my dear ignoramus, is in Great Britain, but not in England. You'll like Valerie. She's a scream. And I'll let you into a secret. You are my first male lover, but Valerie was previously my female lover. We had thrilling times together, talking about men, although we were both afraid of them, and each being the other's "man" to the best of her limited ability."

"What are you ,going to drink?" Lew said, suddenly agreeable. "Coffee? Un cafe et un Ricard a Pearl, Over plate! Well, I'm all for it, but don't forget, fifty-fifty, and don't look to me for 'elp if you get into difficulties! And listen! I don't know much about the law, but I'm too wide to take any risks. You're not twenty-one yet and I don't want anybody accusing me of-how do they say it?-enticing aminor, or something like that, so you're going to England on your Tod."

"'On your Tod' "

"On your Tod! On your Tod Sloan! On your own!"

Brenda shrugged her slim shoulders.

"I understand." she said. "We travel to Dover quite independently of each other and we meet for the first time on the train to Victoria. A pick-up!"

He winked at her admiringly and raised his right hand to the level of his brow, forming as regular a circle as possible with his thumb and forefinger."

"Don't forget," he insisted, "you don't know me, never heard of me. I'll find you on the Dover-Victoria train, and we're total strangers. You don't use my name until I give it to you, and vice versa, O.K.? "

She nodded her assent and leaned across to fuse her lips with his. He thought his great day was expanding into his great week, month, or year.

"I'm 'aving a bit of a job ter get all my stuff in me bags." he then said, as casually as he could. "I don't s'pose you've got room for a few o' my fings? Y'ave? You're a good kid, you are. I'll look arter you in London, you see if I don't. I'll nip 'round ter de of doss-ouse, and be back in two jiffies."

Upon his return, Lew handed her several items, including the mysterious and precious package he had collected from Hank's flashy dory at the Cafe de fll Paix. She tucked all he gave her into the folds of her exquisite lingerie.

Lew left her to pay for her coffee and his "anisette," and she did not see him again until a "total stranger" (whose name happened to be Lew Grace) said to her, on the Dover-London train:

"Excuse me, miss! Haven't we met somewhere before?"

If we must have cliches, can we not at least have some original ones!?