Chapter 7
What was one more disappointment on top of everything else, Kathy reasoned with an inward stab of desolation as she set the cup of soup on the bedside table and stroked the damp forehead of her pale faced husband, staring into his limpid blue eyes with infinite compassion.
She had needed him inside of her tonight, had needed his warm seed to sow a bit of hope within her. Except for those times during the month when she didn't feel right about it, they had not missed a single night of lovemaking. Selfish, wouldn't it be, to demand his energies after he'd worked from dawn to dusk for the Parkers? He hadn't been willing to talk or discuss condition or the cause of it, so she let him fall asleep now.
The next morning the clamminess had dried on his forehead and his pale blue eyes appeared normally alert. He had kissed her long and promisingly before he donned the navy blue chauffeur uniform and brushed his below-the-ear sandy waves behind his sunburned ears.
Now, Kathy tidied up the breakfast room, dabbing at the glass-topped table with a sponge, the morning sun glowing in honey streaks over her blonde hair. Housework had never bothered her-God knows she'd done enough being the oldest daughter in a family of six children! A little tingle in her belly at the memory of her husband's kiss made her petite hands quiver a bit. Getting a bit on the horny side, wasn't she? Instantly forgetting about her family in Tennessee, she entertained fantasies of what her little bed-party with Paul at the end of the day promised.
Strange how back home she had felt guilty about these erotic tinglings that Paul aroused in her with a simple kiss...or when his gentle hand touched her breast or thigh. Now, living under the Parkers' rooftop, that guilt had dissipated, reforming into a soft pride of her womanhood and the willingness to accept Paul...all of him. Her religious parents had her believing that sex was the basest of animal instincts and that she was hell-bent for damnation for indulging. God, how miserably wrong they were...!
With the furniture polish bottle and swipes of dust clothes tucked under her arm, Kathy's platform shoes headed toward the second floor to the Parker's bedroom. Her mind lingered on her parents, wondering if they'd been more accepting of her womanly emotions if none of this mess would have happened. Parents were only people, capable of errors, too. Certainly if they had been married in the village church and settled down there...oh God, there she went again, trying to make everybody else responsible for her predicament. . .
Well, darn it! she straightened, throwing back her shoulders so that her waist length honey hair jounced lively with each step. Yesterday had been the worst day of her life...starting with that awful Mrs. Parker taunting Paul about that stupid uniform...and then the disappointment of not feeling Paul deep inside her womb...To stop thinking about it and start acting on it was the way out.
Instantly, she set down her cleaning wares in the hallway and picked up the telephone receiver sitting in a wall niche, her pink tipped finger poking into the 0 for operator. Someone answered hello in a raspy, low voice.
"I'd like the number for Judge Henderson, please...."
'This is the Parker Halfway House, miss." Kathy stiffened. "But I want an outside line...how do I get it?"
"You don't...without Mr. Parker's permission."
Kathy's petite hand trembled and her dimpled chin began to quiver, too, as with an uncertain movement, she placed the receiver back on the cradle. Her defeatism quickly gave vent to anger. Certainly such restrictions were not implied under the conditions of her custody. Why, this was like living behind the Iron Curtain!...and she had seven hundred and twenty-eight more days of staring at these walls and cleaning up after the Parkers' parties and watching the sluttish looking woman of the house gloat over Paul.
But what weapon could one little nobody from nowhere use against two well renowned philanthropists! Wearily, Kathy plucked up her cleaning wares and continued on down the hall, turning right into the Parkers' bedroom where the mid-morning light played garishly over the rich red and black decor. The room was anything but restful, mused Kathy, her damp, scalding eyes raking over the row of large television screens staring vacuously back at her.
Rebelliously, she flicked on one set. A soap opera or game show might help to dispel the plaguing, depressing thought that her dear Paul was tagging after Mrs. Parker this very moment, fulfilling her needs when she, his wife, had plenty of her own aching for fulfillment!
With a bosom heaving sigh, Kathy collapsed down on the rumpled, round bed ringed with mirrors and put her feet up lazily. She flicked the remote control sitting on the pillow beside her; the screen showed nothing but an interior shot of a roomful of girls wearing blue pinstripe uniforms...
"FUCK HER IN THE ASS!"
Huh? Kathy sprang up in bed, squinting her green eyes at the screen.
"ONE OF THESE DAYS I'LL GET EVEN WITH THAT BULL DYKE!"
"YOU CAN'T LET HER GET YOU, SANDY...I'M TELLIN' YA, SHE'S NOTHING COMPARED TO THAT SLOBBERING IDIOT UP IN THE MANSION...OR THAT SADISTIC MYRA PARKER...KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT OR YOU'LL END UP HER DINNER!"
Little beads of perspiration broke out on Kathy's silk forehead as she listened to the strangely X-rated rated dialogue while the girls on the screen, obviously preparing for a shower, slipped out of their uniforms and worked at the fasteners of their brassieres...totally unaware that a set of invisible eyes were watching them! Kathy's mouth went dry and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as her brain registered the shocking reality. Sitting cross legged now, her maid's uniform with its multi-layered white ruffles laying in her lap like a bouquet of flowers, Kathy's trembling hand reached out to push the selector button on the remote control. Her green eyes shot open wide as a picture of a Sam, the matron of the Parker Halfway House, stood in what resembled an office, her legs were spread wide apart, apparently bracing her weight, and in her hand the leather thongs of a whip sang overhead, then slapped down on the naked buttocks of a girl tossed belly-down over a desk.
"STOP! OH, GOD, STOP! I'LL EAT YOU...I'LL
DO ANYTHING...JUST STOP!"
Oh, dear God in Heaven! Each crack of the lash sent a cringing pain through Kathy's ripe young body. Hastily, she punched the selector button and this time the camera eye opened onto a view of the Parkers' backyard, the heavily bushed area around the dog pen with the one-room cottage there. What appeared to be an empty set came to life as a small body rose up from the grass, scratched its groin and waddled about aimlessly, its back to the camera. Stupefied, Kathy pressed her nose to the glass, then let out a whimpering wail of horror as the creature sprung around, racing toward the camera, coming at her like the distorted, crazy image in a carnival fun-house...spittle drooling, eyes rolling, stunted features grotesquely disproportionate!
Oh God! Kathy punched several buttons until the screen finally faded. It was all clear to her...the Parkers had to be warped people...watching the runaways from the House in their most intimate moments, playing voyeurs. And that thing in the backyard...what, who was that? Good God, who knows but what they might make their evening entertainment of watching she and Paul making love...? The thought made her emotions curdle within her empty little belly.
Oh God, these people polluted everything they touched, kept everything within iron-tight control...including their household help. Somehow, someway, they had to get away from this terrible place and these wicked people! But...how? The Parkers had managed to physically separate Paul and herself, and no doubt their room housed a fugitive camera, too, which meant that any communication between them was public entertainment. Run away? Not with Mr. Parker's influence in this town! Every road would be blocked, every trail sniffed by blood hounds! There had to be a way...life couldn't be this cruel!
If only she could reach Judge Henderson! He was the law and certainly the law wouldn't tolerate the obscene happenings behind these walls...
Sid Parker wasn't at all pleased about his wife's philandering with the young caretaker. Not that he objected to her preference for a young, hard boy...but this Edward fixation crap had to cease right now! That they played sex as a game of monopoly was an open agreement between them...but it had to stay precisely that, and his vixen wife was openly disobeying the rules. Watching the video reel of Myra with the Tennessee hick had proven Sid's suspicions: Myra was "losing control, getting too serious over her moves and letting the scraggly punk control her emotions as if she were a thirteen year old floundering around in the back seat of a car. Instead of dominating him, she was luring him and in the process had deceived him, her husband. Hell, reasoned the big man, she didn't entrap that blonde pussy for my sake at all...it was her scrawny husband Myra wanted all along!
"Shit. . . " Sid Parker muttered under his breath, bolting out of his high-backed leather chair, his footsteps solid and meaningful as they thundered up the carpeted, spiralling staircase to the second floor where he could hear the hum of the vacuum cleaner in the distance.
Kathy was vacuuming under the bed, down on her hands and knees, the garters holding her fishnet stockings taut to the snapping point pulled over the alabaster softness of her satiny upper thighs. From his ripe vantage point he could see the narrow crotch-band of her bikini panties underneath and squinting, he stroked his chin, wondering if indeed that was a moist dew of desire sopping the narrow strip of nylon. The moons of her buttocks shone round and white, haloed by the white flounces of her short underskirts beneath.
Decisively, Sid Parker reached down and pulled the plug on the vacuum cleaner, it's air inflated bag deflating like a satiated male organ.
Abruptly, Kathy's green eyes flung around in a riot of blonde waves flailing about her pixie face and, her cheeks flushing in humiliation at being discovered in her immodest posture, she hastened to straighten her posture, pulling her knees underneath her.
"Miss Kathy," he started, hooking his thumbs in his brocade vest and talking around the Havana cigar plugging his lips, "there's something I have to discuss with you."
"Y-Yes, Mr. Parker...." Though she was still trembling from head to toe, Kathy breathed an inner sigh of relief. He might have walked in fifteen minutes earlier and discovered her playing with his television sets. She realized then that he was standing there in the doorway, waiting for her to follow. Hesitantly she rose to her feet, straightened her maid's uniform and tripped after him downstairs to his private office. What could he possibly want to discuss with her?
He gestured for her to walk ahead and of course she did. Sid let his eyes feast lecherously on the shapely roundness of his housekeeper's young hips and buttocks, the fullness of her exposed stockinged thighs and luscious calves flitting down the steps ahead of him. That uniform had been Myra's idea. His mate knew how to keep her husband's libido well charged...if only she weren't so wrapped up in this Edward fixation she'd be the perfect mate, but sometimes, like lately, he felt he didn't quite trust her motives and that irked him.
He grinned salaciously to himself as he walked briskly ahead now and stood at the door of his office gesturing for her to enter. Immediately he closed the doors behind him and slipped the lock in place with a loud metallic sound.
Kathy, too, heard the ominous clicking sound and she flung around, a new tightness constricting her belly. Were there cameras in this room, too? She stopped abruptly in the middle of the room, turning quickly to face him and read the expression on his leering, smoothly shaven face.
"How are you enjoying your stay here with us, Kathy?" the big man asked in a booming, demanding voice that again made Kathy's bloodstream ice.
Kathy's mouth twisted into a crooked half smile and she shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, just fine, Mr Parker."
"Any complaints...." he gestured expansively. "Is the food okay? Your bed soft enough?"
With her hands clasped in front of her, one ankle turned over girlishly, Kathy nodded unconvincingly. "One thing...I would like to have a bit more freedom...just...to walk around the garden...and stuff."
"But you're in our custody, dear...we're responsible for you and you did steal Mrs. Parker's diamonds, after all. . . "
"But I didn't! I swear I didn't!" Numbly, Kathy shook her head in the negative, struggling for the proper words that might help convince him of her innocence. Of course he didn't trust her, because she was poor...Her misery came pouring out in words she couldn't check. "Oh, Mr. Parker, please send me and Paul back to Tennessee! We'll both work real hard and send our paychecks back to you if you want us to Paul'll even work in the mines and I'll get a job . somewhere...."
Sid Parker stared at his prisoner long and hard, deep furrows wrinkling his naked forehead. When he spoke the words were well chosen, a fact exemplified by his cigar held between his fingers in lieu of his lips. "I might let you go back to your Daddy in Tennessee, little girl, if you were to be nice to me...."
When her horror-stricken face registered no change of expression, Sid Parker stepped closer to the shivering young girl, took a significant pull off his cigar and exhaled a cloud of smoke in the air. "Do you like me, Kathy?"
Kathy felt as if her legs were made of stone, immobile, as she stood there awe-stricken as his massiveness closed in on her, his empty hand reaching out to take her small, trembling one inside it. "Come a little closer, Kathy, and feel what Papa Parker's got for you!" he rasped lewdly, clasping her clammy hand and guiding it to the meaningful bulge tenting his pants. "Don't ask me how, but I've seen you squirming and writhing on the end of your punk hubby's hard fucking cock, trying to make it and being left high and dry when he blows his nuts in your hot, creaming pussy before you can cum...! "
Oh, God! He has been watching us...spying on us...like-like those poor girls in the Halfway House! "Oh, God," she gasped aloud in horror at the shocking filth spewing from his smirking lips. Dear Lord! She had to get out of there...away from this terrible man and his evil house...! Desperately, she tried to jerk her hand free as tears of shame and rage streamed down her satin cheeks, but his meaty hand gripped her tightly. She struggled with him, knowing it was useless, remembering the locked door, but in her panic she could think of nothing else but getting away from this beast. Abruptly, she sank her sharp teeth into the hairy flesh of his hand.
"You fucking little cunt!" he bellowed, jerking his hand away to brutally grasp her arm. With the other hand he slapped her had across the face, knocking her backward and down onto a sofa. Kathy flung to her feet, facing his raised hand, then backing away at the threat of it. She slumped helplessly and buried her sobbing face in her hands.
"It's time you came to your senses," he said, breathing heavily as he examined the teeth marks on his flesh. A bit more pressure and her white little fangs would have broken the skin; still, the wound hurt like hell. Vicious little cunt, this one! She'd pay for that! "Listen, Kathy, we can either be friends, which'll make it easier on you...or enemies...and I'll rape you...and don't think I can't! Either way I'm going to fuck you shitless!"
With blood still singing in her ears from the force of his blow, Kathy felt the nausea sweeping through her at his lurid promise was far more repugnant than the thought of him beating her bloody!
"Oh, God...no...you wouldn't!" she heard herself groan feebly. "Please...oh God, please...please let me out of here!"
"You little shit...shut your mouth and listen to reason!" he spat down at her. "My wife has been fucking your husband, what do you think of them apples?" he gloated lewdly. "That's what his new job is...fuckin' my wife, and if you don't believe me, turn your television set on tonight at seven and you'll get a private airing."
"You're lying!" Kathy rubbed her freed wrist. "My husband loves me...he'd never...do that...with your wife!" Then the reality hit like a ton of bricks smashing between her eyeballs. In this wicked house nothing was impossible! She eyed the big man suspiciously, squinting up at him to read the victorious expression on his naked face.
"You know...." he said with measured words, "it wouldn't look good before the Judge should word of your husband's extra-marital activities with my wife seep out. The Judge just might suggest you two be separated...by law he could do that, you know."
Kathy's mind worked desperately to function with intelligence. Somehow she had to keep this evil man from taking out his vengeance on her young husband...keep him pacified until she could reach Judge Henderson and explain everything. She knew what she must do, though her stomach bubbled uneasily at the thought of it. If Paul had fallen into Myra Parker's trap' he must have been coerced, she reasoned, webbing together an excuse because the desolating pain of doubting her husband's motives was too agonizing.
"You look a bit shaken, my dear. How about a nice fresh drink to clam you down?" Sid grinned patted her on the head and strode toward the bar and selected a bottle from the cupboard.
A nerve-wracked tremor rippled over Kathy's young body. Lord, what could possibly happen next? She couldn't afford to do anything foolish that might raise Mr. Parker's ire and hurt their chances before Judge Henderson cleaned up this mess, but neither could she turn herself over to this repulsively suave man who even now glanced at her as if she were a tempting morsel to be popped into his mouth.
"Wh-what you're saying," choked Kathy, "is that if I don't co-cooperate with you, you'll send Paul away?"
"That's it, little girl...two years of never seeing each other. I have the power to see to it, you know!"