Chapter 7
Tina and I managed to make it to the mess hall in time for lunch. The other inmates were halfway through eating already, and most of them looked a bit tired and worn from working. We sat with the other occupants of our dorm and most of them welcomed us. But two women gave us very dirty looks. One of them was Dog, who resented me for obvious reasons. The other was Helen. Instead of smiling at me when I sat down near her, she gave me a stony look and then concentrated on the food on her plate. She couldn't be jealous, I reasoned, so perhaps she didn't approve of my behavior. Well, she would get used to that.
Going to work after that morning of love was definitely an anti-climax. I was assigned to the gardening party but I couldn't get involved with weeding and mowing. The guard kept urging me to work harder and I kept getting lazier. It wasn't something I did to irk her, it just crept up on me. In the end she came over to me and said: "Either you move your little ass or we're going to see Mrs. Robinson!"
I didn't see that that was so horrible so I shrugged and told her to go ahead and take me. "It's about time we were formally introduced," I said flippantly. Tina wasn't around or she would have warned me not to flirt with danger. Helen was there but she was too angry at me to warn me. As a result the guard whistled for a replacement and marched me off to the administration block.
The block was ascetically appointed and Mrs. Robinson's office was positively Spartan. She had a desk and a chair, and that was it. Bare floorboards, bare, whitewashed walls. She sat behind that gray metal desk and glared at me. "What do you want?" she barked at the guard.
"This inmate refused to work in the garden today, Mrs. Robinson."
"Is that a fact? Okay, leave her with me." The guard nodded and left after she had admonished me to address Mrs. Robinson as ma'am. What was she, a queen? I felt like asking the guard that, but the flippancy had left me. Mrs. Robinson was a formidable figure at the best of times. In her Spartan office she seemed more like a tyrant possessed of absolute power over life and death.
She stood up and paced around me. I stood stock-still before her desk, more or less at attention, and I didn't dare look at her for fear of reading her intentions.
"Take off your clothes," she said.
I was paralyzed. Her words rang through the bare office but I still couldn't believe I'd heard her say that.
"Take off your clothes," she repeated and now she came up in front of me, facing me the way an irate football player goes up to a referee. She towered over me, all that bulk womanhood and power, and glared at me with her beady little eyes until it dawned on me I hadn't been given a choice in the matter. I undid the blouse buttons and Mrs. Robinson sat down in her chair to watch me closely. For once I felt myself blushing all over. It was so empty and lonely in the office that there was nothing to distract her from my form. And when my blouse came off my tits tingled with the embarrassment of it all. "And the rest," she said.
"Yes, ma'am." I unhooked my skirt and let it drop to the floor. Mrs. Robinson motioned for me to pick it up and fold it. Prison property couldn't be treated lightly while she was around. My stockings and shoes came off next, and then there was nothing left between me and her penetrating gaze but my panties. She frowned when she saw me hesitate so I zipped them off and placed them on top of my folded skirt and blouse.
"Good." She picked the panties up and held them to her nose, sniffing at them the way a dentist sniffs at the contents of a root canal. "Fresh enough." She placed the panties back on the pile and told me to walk around the office. I felt her eyes burning into my defenseless nudity the whole way and I had to keep on walking until she told me to stop. I went round and round her desk, trying to walk as normally as possible under the circumstances, hoping that the flesh of my ass didn't bounce about too much, that my nipples were high enough for her, and then wondering why it mattered to me what she thought. "Turn your back to me and bend over." I did as I was told, blushing furiously again. I heard her get up out of her chair and walk toward me. "Hold that position. Touch your toes."
The strain on my muscles was only slightly less than that on my sense of personal dignity, but I stayed there with my hands on my toes and my ass and pussy wide open. The woman knelt down behind me and parted my cheeks even further, staring up my ass-hole as if looking for hidden treasure. Then she opened my pussy up with one prying finger, gazed into its pinkness, and made an approving noise.
"Go back to the dorm, take a long bath and douche, give yourself an enema, and change into the clothes I'll be sending you. You're working tonight."
"Where?" I had a lot of questions but that was the most important one.
"You'll find out. Now go get ready. The stuff will be delivered soon." Before I got out of her office I heard her pick up the phone and issue more orders. On the way back to the dorm Tina waylaid me and asked what had happened. When I told her she looked angry.
"She said you're working tonight? That means only one thing, baby, and I don't like it. I'm going to see her now, you wait for me before you do anything, hear?"
"Sure." Again I felt a surge of love for her. She was so strong and capable! She would look after me. I sat on my bed and had a cigarette, ignoring the messenger who brought a cardboard box full of stuff from Mrs. Robinson. Tina came back a few minutes later but she looked angrier than before.
"Goddamn fat bitch!" she exploded. She lit a cigarette with trembling hands. "I told her you were my old lady and that she should find somebody else. But she wouldn't listen to me. She's never done that before. Maybe it's time I showed her who has the firepower in this goddamn place!"
"Tina, please, tell me what's going on!"
"Ah, fuck it!" She threw her cigarette out of the window and stalked out. "I'm sorry, baby, I let you down." I was alone again, and this time I had to take the contents of that cardboard box seriously. It held a very nice party dress, delicate black lingerie, shoes, toilet articles, perfume, a disposable douche and an equally disposable enema, and a note saying that I was to report at the house of Mrs. Robinson at 8 o'clock in the evening and that my personal hygiene would be tested by Dog. The implication was that I had better pass the test.
There was nothing for it but to go through the routine. I didn't like douching and taking enemas unless it was absolutely necessary, but since I had no choice in the matter I tried to make the best of it. Tina's absence nagged at me and the mystery of the evening ahead bothered me, too, but a bubble bath after emptying and cleansing my innards was quite a luxury. I drifted off a couple of times in the tub and the hazy dreams centered about sex and sensuality, about black buttocks and big nipples. And when I came to and found the water too cool for comfort, I got out and reflected on the change my fantasies had gone through since I'd been imprisoned. It used to be rough men with giant cocks and the manners of pigs. Now it was women only. Did that mean I was a lesbian? The evidence was overwhelmingly in favor of that idea, but somehow I didn't think so.
A cold tub has the effect of damping down romantic feelings, and in the bathroom I saw all too clearly that it was the masculine side of Tina that I loved. Certainly her tits and pussy weren't excluded from this peculiar passion but they were a part of the whole, not the sole attraction.
But until I was released there wasn't much point in debating my sexual orientation. I dressed up in the finery sent me by Mrs. Robinson and took a few turns before the mirror prior to going out into the dorm and subjecting myself to the critical opinions of my roommies. I looked terrific My blonde hair, freshly washed and blown dry, flew like a golden wreath about my head when I shook it, the dress accentuated the full curve of my bosom and it had been cut tightly enough about the waist and ass to give me more curvaceousness than I'd suspected I had. The other women approved of Mrs. Robinson's choice, too, but they wouldn't tell me why I had been thus favored.
"You'll find out when you get there, honey," said one of them. "Some of us have been there and we can't tell you what to expect because Mrs. Robinson would have us put under."
"What the hell is the big secret?" I yelled, frustrated by their reticence. They just smiled and shrugged. Tina didn't come back until it was me to go, and even then I only saw her loitering around outside the dorm. She avoided me and so I walked quickly toward Mrs. Robinson's house. A guard stood at the door but she didn't even question me. She opened the door and I walked right into the reception area.
It was deathly still inside the house. All the lights were on and a couple of inmates were busy arranging cutlery and plates along a big table. A maid held her finger to her lip to indicate I should be as silent as everyone else, then waved at a nearby chair. I sat in it and waited. A couple of women from other dormitories came in, dressed in much the same apparel as I wore. We glanced at each other uncomfortably but not a word was exchanged.
Mrs. Robinson appeared with Dog trailing after her. Dog still wore the usual prison clothes and looked as ratty as ever. The mousy blonde came right at us, stood in front of one of the dressed-up women, dropped to her knees and crawled under the woman's skirt. The rest of us were mortified. We stared at what remained to be seen of Dog, and we could hear her sniffing around under there. Mrs. Robinson hadn't been kidding about the inspection. Dog went at it as if she worked at a perfume factory.
My turn came last and I was very scared. I had seen the dirty look Dog had given me earlier in the day and I had seen her and her razor in action. When she was under my dress and all my private parts were at her disposal, I broke out into a cold sweat. She could cut me in the most delicate of places and there was nothing I could do to stop her! She sniffed and tugged at my underwear, stuck her nose right into my cunt and ass, and came out with a disappointed expression on her narrow face. "They're okay, ma'am," she reported.
"Good. Into the main room you go. No smoking."
Mrs. Robinson was preparing for a large party. About twenty places had been set and a small army of inmates worked in the kitchen, the dining room, and on the bandstand to make sure everything would be perfect for the guests. The dressed-up girls, four including me, sat in their places like so many ornaments, and waited uneasily. The string quartet struck up a little waltz when the first guests entered, waitresses dressed as French maids rushed to serve wine and hors d'oeuvres, and Mrs. Robinson emerged transformed as the perfect hostess. I could hardly believe my eyes! She was tastefully dressed, shook hands and greeted people most cordially, chatted with friends, a changed person-except when it came to addressing the help. Then that curtness was there again.
The guests looked most respectable. Bankers and their wives, a couple of local politicians, all of them smelling of money. They ignored the four of us, as they did all the servants. I began to wonder what we were supposed to do there when one of the maids came out to us and led us into the kitchen. Cooks were working furiously and we had to get out of there, or be run over. The maid led us through to a small room off the side of the kitchen, in which four platforms on casters had been stored.
"Okay, here's what you do," she said, hurrying her little speech so as to get on with her work. "You roll these into the dining room and you sit on them. Keep your distance from the table and don't speak to any of the guests unless they address you. And even then keep it down to the minimum. When dinner is over and the desserts and wines are served, you slip behind these platforms and take off your dresses. Keep your underwear, stockings and shoes on, you understand? If people want to do anything to you, tamper with you, you just let them. But you don't take off your clothes until coffee is served in the library. Then you sit with the guests and let happen what happens." She turned on her heel and left us standing there with our mouths open.
"Is she kidding?" said one of the girls, a ravishing little redhead with the biggest tits I'd ever seen on a girl her size. She couldn't be five feet tall but her tits were like melons and the dress could barely contain them. The third girl had little pigtails and tiny tits, long legs and a cute little ass that was bound to appeal to the pederasts among the party. And the fourth was an Oriental girl with a plump body and black hair down to her ass. We were quite an assortment, and we were to be at the disposal of all those middle-aged men ... and women. I wondered what kind of town produced so many respectable looking perverts.
We rolled the platforms out and perched on them at different parts of the dining room. From the look on the other girls' faces they felt as foolish as I did. No one paid attention to us. Mrs. Robinson, the Elsa Maxwell of the slammer, kept the conversation going, punctuated it with witticisms, and laughed a tinkling silvery laugh that seemed totally out of character. The band played popular classics and the servants brought out masses of food which disappeared down capacious gullets. And we just sat there and waited for the inevitable. I didn't know what to think. Somehow it was impossible to imagine these people doing anything worse than swatting a fly.
Dinner seemed to go on forever. Those people could really put it away. But eventually the dishes were cleared from the table, and wine and dessert was served. The maid gave us a signal and we slipped behind the platforms, took off our dresses, and resumed our perches. No one cared I There we were in our finery, tits and midriffs and thighs poking out in clear view, and none of those swine so much as turned around!
Nothing happened-until the dessert had been consumed. Then the guests decided it was time to stretch their legs. With glasses of wine in their hands they strolled about the large dining room, chatting, running an appraising eye over us, idly resting a hand on a nearby thigh, but that was all there was to it. I began to relax a little. Perhaps all these people wanted was an eyeful and a feel. I was more concerned with Tina. I missed her very much and I was worried about her and her relationship with Mrs. Robinson. She had failed ... but why?
"Hi there, sweetie," said a middle-aged man whose wife was right beside him. "I'm crazy about blondes. See, I even married one." He pointed at his wrecked wife whose blondeness went no further than her roots. "Matter of fact we both like blondes. Don't you, honey?"
"Sure do." The woman moved toward me and ran a hand down my bare arm. I shivered involuntarily and she grimaced at me. "But you don't like old people, huh? Well, tough luck sweetie-pie." With that she pushed her hand into my flimsy bra and mauled my tit while looking me right in the eye. "I used to look like you," she said under her breath, "and my skin used to be just as soft and smooth. Now look at me. That's what you'll be like in thirty years' time." I kept silent, but not without effort.
Her husband stood at the other side of me, touching me with a distant expression in his eyes. "I remember," he said wistfully, "God, do I remember." He mauled the other breast. I looked over at my colleagues and they were getting similar treatment. The party was getting rough. I began to understand why Tina hadn't wanted me to get this assignment. It also struck me that this would make a hell of a story! Prison director entertains guests with the bodies of live inmates. A live body. I sure felt like that. Someone was squeezing my ass but I couldn't see who it was. The couple went on fondling me and reliving their past and I felt about as stimulated as a nun during Lent.
"All right, everyone, coffee and brandy served in the library!" cried Mrs. Robinson. The guests streamed out of the room and for a brief but blissful minute the four of us were alone. "Let's go, girls!" barked Mrs. Robinson, peering around the door. We snapped into action. Our clothes were removed and folded, and, nude now, we walked out of the dining room to the library.
How the scene had changed. We were no longer mere ornaments, we were the conversation pieces. Twenty pairs of eyes zeroed in on us as we entered, gentlemen obligingly moved over on the long, plush couches to let us sit down next to them. I was sure I was blushing all over but I did my best to look cool. Someone handed me a drink. Maids served everyone with brandy and coffee, mainly the former, and the eyes of men and women alike were upon us.
"Come girls, entertain the guests," said Mrs. Robinson. "Do a dance for them."
We stood up and moved toward each other, having first swallowed our drinks to give us courage. The big-titted little redhead, the plump Oriental, the pig-tailed boy-girl and I formed a loose circle and swung to a vague beat produced by the band. They were essentially a classical group but they tried to reproduce the disco sound in order to get us going. Mrs. Robinson grew impatient and we could sense it.
"Hey you," she said suddenly, pointing at me, "weren't you put inside for lewd behavior? Well, let's see some lewd behavior. And Mary, give those girls a drink. They need fuel by the look of them." The guests laughed and I fought down an urge to sock somebody. I'd been tagged. Now it was up to me to rise to the occasion. The brandy burned all the way down and made me break out in a sweat, but it was just what I needed to get loose. "All right, you sonsabitches," I thought, "you want lewd behavior, you're gonna get lewd behavior."
I walked along the line of seated guests, shaking my tits and ass at them, rolling my tongue around my lips and producing tiny sounds to indicate peaking sexual excitement. One guy was sitting with his legs wide apart so I kneeled between his legs and opened his fly with a deft motion, extricated his dick and gave it a quick kiss before moving on. Everyone laughed, but at him, and that had been my intention. The phony blonde who'd pawed me earlier was next. I wiggled my pussy at her, thrusting it at her and mesmerizing her with it. She sat there with her glass of brandy (hardly her first for the evening) and stared at my pushing blonde cunt, and when she least expected it I lifted one tit out of its scaffolding and left her sitting there with the loose tit hanging out.
"Come on everybody," I squealed, 'net's have some fun!" The other three were getting into the spirit of the occasion now, stoked by the brandy, and they began to do the rounds, too, stroking a tit or a bulging lap, shaking their flesh into the faces of the guests. The band got the drift of it, too, because they launched some passable rock and roll tunes. More drinks, more cigars. The library was warming up, smoky and close, and men removed their jackets while they watched us with glittering eyes. A sudden flash took me back to the bar and the wet T-shirt contest, all those glinting eyes and erect men, and once again my juices began to flow in sympathy with all the arousal. "Take it off, take it all off!" I cried, helping a man with his dinner jacket. Half-seriously, half-humorously, he started to undo his fly-but he stopped halfway through when his wife stayed his hand. like a vulture, I swooped down on his fly, opened it all the way, and took his half-hard cock out. Before his wife could prevent me, I had it in my mouth and sucked on it noisily. He grew hard within a second. He had a big, powerful cock with bulging veins and a thick rubbery knob that lodged in my throat as he thrust forward. It had been a long time since the last time for him, I could tell.
"Keep moving, girly!" barked Mrs. Robinson. Reluctantly I parted with my new friend and went on dancing. The Oriental girl bumped into me, a little stoned and a little carried away by the occasion. I took her into my arms and pressed her close to me, savoring her soft flesh as she ground her pubic bone into mine. "That's better," said our boss, and we thought so too. Her narrow eyes looked into mine, her full lips puckered up, and in the center of the library, with twenty people watching, we soul-kissed fiercely. That brought the redhead over. We admitted her to our tight circle, exchanging kisses, moving our bodies into each other, undulating, kissing, embracing, tits banging against tits, until the boy-girl joined us and her tits didn't reach.
"Break it up, girls, dance!" That old bitch wouldn't leave us alone! I got an idea of what she wanted, though. She wanted some attention all of her own. I didn't go over right away but slowly sidled toward her, giving the ladies and gentlemen views of deep pinkness and puckered anal muscles, pretending to be masturbating and in ecstasy. Actually I had never felt cooler and more on top of things. Mrs. Robinson sat primly between her most favored guests, sipping at her brandy and smoking a small, pungent cigarette. When I approached her, a flicker of uncertainty appeared in her eyes but that could have been my imagination. Closer, closer, I turned my back to her and leaned forward slightly. I pretended I didn't know she was right behind me and went on cooing and flirting at a judge sitting opposite. But my every move was directed at her. I knew just how to shake my ass so as to get her worked up, how much pubic hair to show, how far to spread my thighs. No matter how long I stayed in that spot, Mrs. Robinson made no move to force me to circulate. I winked at the other girls and one by one they got the hint. But they hung back to . see what would happen to me first.
A waitress handed me a drink and as I downed it I stumbled and fell back accidentally on purpose, right into the bulldog's lap. "Ooohhh!" I squealed, struggling unsuccessfully to get out of there. "Oh dear, do excuse me ma'am! Excellent brandy!" The guests laughed and so did Mrs. Robinson, a baying kind of sound.
"Never mind, you can sit here and catch your breath," she said, and a big hard hand came to rest on my belly. The placement was very precise, just above the pubic hairline and right on the softest part of my body. Her generous lap supported me easily and I thought I felt her move up at me. She had another drink brought over for me and when I had had that I felt very lightheaded indeed. Still lucid, though. I had a plan and it was working. Pretending to be drunk, I snuggled up to her and wrapped my arms about her neck.
"Me s'eepy!" I said in baby talk. "Ittle Ellen wanna go bye-byes now."
"Oh, poor little thing," said the big woman with a sidelong glance at her guests. "You come rest in Mama's lap and take it easy. The rest of you girls, dance!" I was ensconced in the embrace of Mrs. Robinson, and the other girls had to work all the harder to make up for me. They didn't like it much but they had to give me my due: I had thought of it first.
Everyone was quite drunk now, rowdy and rebellious. The girls had apparently decided to make everyone a sex object because they were going from one person to the next exhorting them to take their clothes off. One woman answered the call. She was in her late thirties, a good-looking woman who had arrived with an old rich man. She'd been restless all evening long and this was her big chance to break out. She joined the three dancers and started to take off her clothes one by one. The crowd cheered. A fortyish man joined them, stripping like a siren, and when he was completely nude he stood in among the four naked dancers and tugged on his hard cock with a great big grin all over his face. This was the kind of party I liked I
"Come on, Mrs. Robinson, share her with us," said someone. She tightened her grip on me and shook her head. "Aw, come on! Don't be so selfish. You're supposed to be the perfect hostess!" complained the man. Mrs. Robinson refused to listen to him. Her hands were moving more widely now, caressing my breasts and pubic hair. Her lap seemed quite hot to me. I made myself comfortable, using her big bosom as a pillow, and I closed my eyes to make myself even more appealing to her. How many needs did I satisfy in her? I couldn't begin to guess. It was pure survival for me and perhaps a slice of the good life was at stake, too.
"Stand up, baby," she whispered urgently. I opened my eyes and she motioned for me to get up. I found my footing on the couch and straddled her lap so that my cunt was level with her face. She ignored the comments of her guests as she dug into my hair pie with all the force of a long-denied dyke, and I had to hang on to her shoulders to steady myself. She was battering me with her tongue, sucking out the juices, and eating me alive! Strong, sharp impulses ran through my body, displacing the mild indifference with a real, brewing passion. Who could withstand such an oral onslaught?!
I looked over my shoulder at what was going on behind me, and the guests had shed the last of their inhibitions with the last of their clothes. Wherever I looked there were naked bodies writhing about in heaps, there were no dancers, no watchers, only doers! Of course a few people were quicker to finish than others, and they drifted back to where Mrs. Robinson was making a meal out of me. My eyes were going out of focus, I was sweating and trembling, and when I climaxed, I sort of collapsed onto her lap and dropped off onto the floor. Mrs. Robinson was right there with me. She pushed me along the carpet until she was comfortable between my legs, and she went on eating until my head was spinning!
No one had eaten me this way, not even Tina. The rabidness of her assault, the pure passion and fire of her licking, made me come like a time bomb! She kept it up until her face was too sore to go on, and even then she hadn't found satisfaction. Mrs. Robinson got up and took off her clothes. I watched her as best I could. There were so many distractions, not the least of which was my throbbing cunt. I felt as though one more orgasm would be enough. But who could tell? Hadn't Tiny satisfied every last fiber in my body? And hadn't that been just a few hours ago? My labia were sore and I was sure they were red but the pleasures so far outweighed the pain that I could hardly wait for my burly lover to get back to it.
She had a big body, strong and round, with massive tits that hung like overripe watermelons and nipples like the ones people attach to baby bottles. A forest of pubic hair grew up to her navel and down to the insides of her tree-trunk thighs. When she moved, her flesh remained solid, and for a moment I felt totally intimidated by her. What a mass she was! How could I possibly satisfy her? It'd be like tackling a division of marines!
To my horror she squatted right over my face. Her cunt occupied my vista, a huge hairy spider that bulged pinkly down the center and dripped on me. I couldn't! No, no ... but when I hesitated she just sat on my face and I had a mouthful of cunt whether I wanted it or not. Pussy tastes like pussy, no matter from whom it hangs suspended. When I closed my eyes it was hard to tell whether I was eating Tina or Gina, except that this was a good deal larger than cunts I'd eaten previously. My tongue shot out and joined in with my lips and teeth to work her labia over. I pulled at them and tugged at them, sucked them until she began to bounce up and down. And, using my fingers to spread her cunt open wide, I let my tongue run the full length of her drowned valley until it located the clitoris.
That was her weak point No matter how big or strong she was, that tiny knob half-buried in all the juicy flesh was as vulnerable as anyone's. I sucked it down in between my teeth and chafed at it until her hoarse cries alarmed me. She was shaking and yelling, and I felt sure she'd collapse on top of me any second. Her body could crush me! At the same time I didn't want her to get mad at me, so I kept milking her clitoris with my mouth and nudging her ass-hole with the tip of my nose. She had a hand between her powerful thighs and manipulated her clitoris whenever I let her have a piece of it.
We sucked each other off in a frenzy of passion. Her strong jaws clamped down around my cunt and squeezed it dry of juice and ecstasy, and my tongue wormed its way in and out of her cunt as rapidly as any finger ever had. She was remarkably tight in there but then I didn't think she'd ever been a big favorite with men. My hands were squeezing her big cheeks, working them to one side or the other, jiggling them, digging my fingernails in, eating until I really couldn't eat another drop. My jaw muscles were screaming in pain. I had to lie back and let her have her way with me.
Mrs. Robinson hardly noticed that I had stopped. She went on eating me like a shark, big mouthfuls, greedy, slurping it up. At last my inertness got through to her and she rolled off me, lit two cigarettes and passed one on to me. Neither of us said a word. Around us the party raged. Men chased women, women chased women, maids and cooks and dancers were locked in amorous embraces. The party was an unqualified success. But I could see now why Tina hadn't wanted me to come here, and I was flattered by her anger. She was jealous! My affection or love or whatever, hadn't waned. I was just glad she felt so strongly about me.
Luckily, Mrs. Robinson couldn't read my thoughts or she might have thrown me out of the window. She felt great and she told me so. She also told me that I could move in with her if I wanted. How could I refuse her without hurting her feelings? I said I wanted time to think about that, when my head wasn't muddled by brandy. She said she understood. How tender she was now that she had gotten some of her wild oats sown! She got me another drink, asked if I was comfortable, and then announced that the party was over.
"Sorry everyone, but it's getting late," she said firmly.
"But Mrs. Robinson," objected one of the ladies, "we paid good money for a good time!"
"You've had a good time. Goodnight." The guests were disappointed but they had had a good time and they knew it. One by one they took their leave, maids and cooks began the mammoth task of cleaning up after them, the dancers put their imagine clothes back on, and Mrs. Robinson told me to go back to the dorm with them. "We'll talk again tomorrow," she said before I left her house. "Do think about it ... darling."
"And," Dog had added, "if word does get out you'll all be punished real bad. I'll carve my initials into your face with my razor and I'll slice your fucking clits off. You get it?"
We swore by all that was sacred to us that we got her point. My clit contracted at the very idea. It was great to get out into the cool night air, away from the dense smoke and the frenzied satyrs. We'd had a good time. Now it was back to reality.
Before we went back to our respective dorms we sat on a bench outside the mess hall and had a cigarette. There wasn't much to say. The brandy still had us hot and silly, the smell of sex was all over us. And before we had finished our cigarettes, we were so tired that we could hardly stand up. Somehow we got back to our beds, groping through the dark dorm and undressing unsteadily. I had half expected Tina to be waiting for me, but everyone seemed to be sleeping soundly. Just as well. I wasn't in any condition to talk seriously.