Chapter 1

She was already beginning to tremble, though that didn't have anything to do with her condition. Bart was sure of that. She didn't need a fix yet. She was just nervous about it, because this was the closest she had ever come to needing one. And the first time she had run into any trouble about it.

"Bart, please," she begged, brushing back a strand of her long, blonde hair. Her face was contorted with worry, but still beautiful. It gave him a hard-on just to look at her like that, and hear her beg him. He crossed his legs to hide it, and tried to look convincingly sympathetic.

"I'm sorry, honey, but I just can't afford to carry you any more. You know I've been good to you up till now."

"Sure, Bart, I know that," she said quickly. "I wasn't saying differently. But I have to have a fix, Bart. You know I need it."

"Sure, honey, I know. But look at my side of it. I need money, or I can't stay in business. Now I supply the stuff for a lot of people, who need it just as badly as you do. Some of them worse. Without money, I go out of business. Then nobody can have a fix when he needs it."

"But-"

He cut her off. "How long have I been carrying you, baby?"

"I don't know. Three or four months, I guess."

"Sure. And I was glad to do it. I mean, when it was just a few joints of grass, or a free cap, that was just fine. But now you're on horse, baby, and that's expensive stuff."

"I wouldn't be on it if-" She broke off. Bart scowled at her.

"If I hadn't started you out. Is that it?"

"No, I wasn't going to say that, Bart. I-"

"Don't lie to me, Cathy. That's what you were thinking, isn't it? Isn't it?"

"Well, yes-"

"That's the gratitude I get. You wanted the stuff at the time. You begged me to let you try it, didn't you? And I gave in out of friendship, because I liked you. So now that you're hooked, you think you should have a free ride for the rest of your life, just because I was the one who gave you your first ride."

"No, no. It's not that. I'm not going to be on it for the rest of my life," she said with what sounded like real determination in her voice. "I'm going to kick it. But I need a shot now. I'll get the money for you, Bart."

"That's what you've been saying, baby. I stopped giving it to you free three days ago. You're carry in' a thirty-dollar monkey. That means you've already got ninety bucks marked up on the cuff. If I go ahead and take care of you today, it'll be a hundred and twenty. Now, I'm not giving you a gram of the stuff before I see some money."

"I'll get the money, Bart. You've got to give me some time."

"Christ, you junkies are all alike. You think just because you need the stuff, everyone has to give you anything you want. I don't have to give you some time. I don't have to give you anything. Now, I like you, Cathy. I think you're a nice kid. But business is business."

The phone rang, right on time. Bart had begun to feel a little nervous about it, for fear Hank wouldn't call on time, but there it was. He picked it up. "Hello? Yeah, this is Bart. Hank?" He waited, while Hank said the right things to make his pause sound realistic. "Tell him no," he said then. A pause again. "I know, I know. He's a good customer, and we could lose him, but I can't do it this time. I haven't been able to line up the right girl. You know how he is. His requirements are stiff." Without seeming to look at her, Bart saw Cathy look at him with quickened interest. "Hell, we don't make that much on him anyway, by the time we get through paying the girl ... Well, I'm sorry, Hank. I know he's a friend of yours and all ... Look, damn it, I told you, I've looked, and I just can't find the right girl. If you come across one who fills the bill, fine. I'll go a hundred and fifty bucks for the right one, and that's pretty good for an evening's work." He paused again. "Okay, Hank. Sorry I couldn't help you out this time. Bye."

He turned his attention back to Cathy. "Look, honey, I've got a lot on my mind right now, and if you don't mind, I just can't spend any more time sitting here talking to you. Now, I've told you the situation, and if you can't come up with the dough, I'm sorry. Really sorry. But-"

"Bart, what was that about on the phone?" She asked it with such intensity he knew he had her. From now on it was just a matter of reeling in the fish. And this was the part he liked the best. This was where he had some fun with her.

"What that? Oh, that was just a business deal. Nothing to do with you, honey."

"You said something about needing a girl to do some kind of work. And you said you couldn't find one."

Bart scowled, as though she had been eavesdropping. "Look, take my word for it. You wouldn't fill the bill."

"Why not? I'm a good worker, Bart. And I learn fast, too." She was so naive it almost made him laugh. His cock stood up harder than ever. She was a delicious little bitch, but ever since she had told him she was a virgin, he had held himself back. He could have screwed her any of a dozen times when she had just had her fix, but a hymen is a friend, he thought. And a treasure.

"It's not your kind of work, honey. I'm telling you. Now, run along like a good girl, will you?"

"Please, Bart!" Her voice rose to a shrill cry, almost a scream, and he looked at her hard. "I'm sorry," she said, holding her tone down to normal with an obvious effort. "But can't you at least tell me what kind of job it is?"

"This guy likes girls," Bart said. "He likes them young and tender. And cooperative." He put it pretty bluntly, just to see her reaction. Of course, it was exactly the kind of reaction he had expected. She looked shocked. Bart enjoyed her surprise. A girl like this was a rarity these days. "See?" he said, finally. "I told you, you wouldn't be interested. Now, if I were you, I'd get going. You've got money to grub up, and...." He looked at his watch. " ... not much time to do it in."

She looked at him for a moment, started toward the door, just a swaying of her body, and then she stood and bit her lip. "Bart, let me do it," she said. "Please."

"You?" Bart pretended to be surprised. "Honey, are you kidding? The cheerleader from the Catholic girls' school? You, hustle for dough? You've got to be putting me on."

"No, Bart. I mean it. I need that fix. You know I do. I'll do anything for it!" She was really starting to get frantic. Bart sat back and waited fifteen seconds before he answered her.

"No," he said. "I'm sorry, honey. This guy is a special customer. I'd rather refuse him than take a chance on disappointing him."

"But I wouldn't, unless you mean I'm not pretty enough."

"Oh, I guess you're pretty enough all right, baby." That was a laugh. She was pretty enough, all right, with a country mile to spare. "It's just that you're going to foul things up if I let you take on this trick. You'll run away, screaming for your Mama and Papa. Or at least you'll freeze up. No, I don't think so."

"Bart, give me a chance, will you? I won't let you down, honestly." She was almost in tears. Bart couldn't remember when he'd had such a good time. But it was time to cut things off. He didn't want to get her so worked up emotionally she wouldn't be able to give satisfaction. And there were some things left to do that would string her pretty high.

"Was that on the level?" he asked. "What you said to me once about being a virgin?"

"Sure." She said it quickly, and then looked worried, as though she thought it might go against her. "But it isn't because-"

"You sure? Because if it's true, he might take that as an excuse for you not measuring up in other ways."

"Of course I'm sure! I've never-"

"I have to be positive."

"But I just told you-"

"I'm sorry, baby, but your promise isn't good enough. I told you, this is business. And if he comes back to me and says you're a liar, I have to be able to tell him I know different."

"But how can you be sure?" She looked at him with pathetic anxiety, and he almost laughed aloud. She was really too easy. The spoiled ones like her were always the easiest ones, anyway, no matter how well they were brought up.

"I'll have to look for myself," he said. She stepped back and stared at him, wide-eyed.

"I told you, you weren't the right girl for this job, Cathy," he said. "And you just proved I was right. If you can't even make yourself let an old friend look at your cherry, how you going to let a perfect stranger bust it? And this guy isn't exactly Paul Newman, either."

"No, I didn't mean to give you the impression-I mean, it was just a surprise, Bart. I-" She was in a sweat now, her forehead shining with it, and her body was trembling all over. It was such a beautiful little body, he thought, with those smooth, shapely legs and the tiny waist, and the nice, firm breasts. And the trembling, and the fear, just made her all the prettier to him. That was how a girl should look. "I-If you want to-look-I can see why you feel you have to."

Bart pretended to consider things a little longer. "Okay," he said. "You do this job, honey, I'll give you a hundred bucks for it."

"A hundred! But you said-"

"I remember what I said, Cathy. But that was for a girl who filled the bill. I've got my doubts about you. I'm taking a chance, and giving you one. A hundred bucks is more than I should pay you under the circumstances. I could lose a good customer if you goof this deal. And I could have to give him part of his money back if he's not happy with you."

"But what about my fix, Bart? You know I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't need that!"

"Well, I'll tell you what, baby. You do this job, and do it right, and I'll give you your fix, and you can owe me the other twenty bucks."

"All right!" she said, jumping at the offer. Bart sat back in the chair and waited for her to start begging again, because she had no choice in the matter. She had to have the fix soon. "Bart, couldn't you let me have my shot first? I need it bad."

"Hell, you don't need it bad at all. You know you don't. In a couple of hours you will, but not now."

"Bart, please, I-"

"Now, you know how you are, baby. Right now you're willing to do anything to get that fix. But the moment you get it, you're not going to care whether school keeps or not."

"Bart, I won't let you down." Then she looked as though she had thought of the perfect argument. "Honey, you wouldn't want me to start to need it, would you? Just in the middle of things?"

That was the first time she had ever called him honey, or anything besides his name. She was already starting to change her attitudes, he thought. She was going to be valuable. He pretended to think over her argument.

"I'll tell you what," he said. "I'll take a chance on you, just this once, Cathy. I'll give you your shot, but I'll charge you double for it." He raised a hand at the look of consternation that crossed her face. "That means instead of twenty, you'll owe me fifty when this is over. And I'm makin' the offer as a favor to you, because you need it so bad."

"All right," she said. She didn't even have to think about it for very long. She needed this fix, and he could really demand just about anything he wanted from her in return. He could have charged her a thousand bucks for this fix, and she wouldn't have been in any position to object.

"All right, now, there's one more thing I have to tell you before you decide to go through with this." She looked at him with that scared look again, as though she were afraid he was going to pull the rug out from under. "This guy is what you might call an advanced hobbyist. He likes other things besides what you consider normal sex, Cathy. And he expects his money's worth. Now, he's going to know you're a virgin, so he won't expect you to know all about this stuff. But he will expect you to do it when he tells you what he wants, and without hesitation. You understand?"

"Well, what will he want?"

"That's up to him, isn't it?"

"Oh, sure. I-Yes, of course. I understand, Bart. I won't let you down."

Bart leaned forward in the chair and suddenly took her hand in his. He yanked her into his lap. She sat there stiffly for a moment, then forced herself to relax. He had never gotten this familiar with her before. She felt good there, light as a feather, soft and warm and with that little tremble passing over her again and again. Bart laid a hand on her thigh lightly, and felt her stiffen again. His cock was harder than a brick now, and he wondered whether she was aware of it.

"Cathy, I want to tell you something," he said. "I want to tell it to you now before you get your shot, because I want to make sure it sinks in. Are you listening?"

"Sure, Bart. What is it?"

"I'm going to give you your fix on the cuff again. And you're going to go into my extra bedroom and try to earn it." He let that much sink in before going on. The mention of the bedroom sent a strong shiver up her spine. "Now, when you have the shot, arid you see this guy and all, you're going to feel differently. You'll want to back out. You'll think nothing is worth giving your cherry to that ugly bastard. Now you know you're going to think that way. But remember how you feel now. Keep it in mind, and think about feeling that way again tomorrow, without a friend like me to help you out. And there's something else you can think about, honey." He paused.

"Yes, Bart?" she asked in a small, scared voice.

"I'm nice to my friends, honey. You know that. But when a friend does me dirt, then I get real nasty. I do that person a thousand times what he did to me. You understand?"

"Yes, I think so-"

"Well, I'll make it good and clear, baby. If you take this fix I'm going to give you, and then run out without doing your part, I'm going to send some other friends of mine looking for you. And they're going to give you something you'll never forget. They'll also bust your head, and both of your arms, and both of those gorgeous legs." He patted her leg for emphasis, and she winced. "And they'll also strip some hide off of you, and break a few ribs. They won't kill you, honey. They'll let you live as a reminder to everyone else of what happens to someone who runs out on a pal when he needs her. But they'll leave a permanent reminder on your face. They'll put a scar on it, in the form of a nice, big 'F' for 'Fink'. You got all that?"

She nodded, too scared to speak. He chuckled in a friendly way. "Now, don't worry about it, baby. I'm sure you're going to do your duty to the best of your ability, and that's all I ask. If you're not quite as good at it as you should be, we'll work out a deal one way or another. After all, we're friends. It's only when I trust someone, and she deliberately lets me down, that's when I get mad."

"Okay," she said brokenly. "I understand, Bart."

"Fine." He took a handful of hair and tilted her head back. After the first moment's surprise she allowed her head to fall back. The action parted her lips, and he kissed her. He had waited a long time to get her in his hands like this, he thought, and now he had to be satisfied with a kiss. But later, when the cherry was gone....

He sent his tongue into her mouth and over her own, and she made a muffled gasp that died in her throat, then forced herself to relax and return the kiss. He had the feeling that she had never even had a french kiss before.

His cock was stiff and moist, and he felt his control slipping away. This was no good. If he didn't get her off his lap and out of his sight pretty soon he was going to bust her sure, and that would cost him more money than it was worth.

Then the idea came to him, and it almost made him laugh aloud. It was such a great idea, and so simple. It would be a good joke on Towers, too.

"I want to see if you've really got the guts to go through with this thing," he said to her. She looked up at him with panic written all over her face. Bart gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze. "Nothing to worry about, honey. That is, not if you're really willing to go through with this kind of thing."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked. There was a clearly discernible break in her voice, and it made him hornier than ever. The little twat was scared shitless.

"I want you to do something for me. It will be something that Towers will want you to do for him, too, so this way I'll have some assurance that you're not going to louse it up when he tells you to do it."

"But I thought you wanted me to be a virgin for him." Her voice had a pleading quality to it. She had just begun to get used to the idea she was going to lose her cherry today, and now she thought she was going to lose it right away.

"You will be, baby. What I want you to do won't have any effect on your cherry at all." He let her stew a moment longer. "You know what a blow job is?"

"No."

"Well, you're about to find out, honey. Get down on the floor in front of me. Kneel." She hesitated a moment, then slid off his lap gracefully. She knelt there, looking up at him, scared and miserable, and all the more attractive for it. "Okay," he said. "Now we're going to see if you have the guts to go through with something like this." He reached down and took her face in his hands, cupping his palms over her cheeks. "I want you to unzip my fly," he said. He spoke the words in a dull monotone, with no emotion in his voice at all. It was just the kind of command that brooked no nonsense. She hesitated for just a second, then reached up a timid hand and started tugging at his zipper.

She had trouble with it, because it kept twisting and jamming. Finally, she managed to make herself insert her fingers over the top of the waistband and steady the zipper. Then it slipped down easily. "Fine," Bart said. "Now you can open the top of my pants too." She was in a real sweat now, but she managed to do the job with trembling fingers. The pants fell open, and Bart hoisted his ass a little and shoved them down past his hips. Then he shoved his shorts down too. He had a little trouble with that, because his cock was like a spear by this time. She stared at it for a moment when it came into sight, then tore her gaze away. She was a deep red color, and obviously mortified. It made him so excited he almost came right then. He could hear his own breathing as though it were being magnified by an amplifier. He ran his hand lightly over her smooth cheek. "Give me your hand, Cathy."

She didn't respond at first, and he repeated the command with more harshness. Her hand came up in a jerking movement. It was soft and smooth and tiny. His own hand almost devoured it.

He pulled the hand slowly toward his prick. She saw what he was doing right away, and tried to draw back. But a scowl from him put a stop to that. Bart pulled the hand all the way to his cock and dragged her fingertips over the shaft. She shuddered, and made a gagging sound. It turned him on all the more. He hadn't thought there were girls this innocent still in existence.

Then he closed her hand, wrapping it around his prick, and she made a little mewing sound deep in her throat. She almost tore loose from him. There was a tugging by her body, and her legs worked to get up to her feet, but he gave her hand a brutal squeeze, yanking it off of his cock momentarily, and she cried out with the pain, and settled down.

"Give me your other hand, baby," he ordered. She did so reluctantly, and he placed it on his cock. The tool was stiff as steel now, painfully stiff. Bart took one hand away from hers and reached down to her head. He took a handful of smooth blonde hair and pulled her forward slowly. He put some muscle into the action, overcoming her resistance. She was obviously trying not to resist him at all, but she was having trouble from her years of moral upbringing. At the last moment she twisted her head to one side, and her mouth was spared contact with the tip of his cock. He pulled his other hand free of hers and gave her a slap on the face, just a light one to let her know he meant business. "Don't think about it," he said. "Just think about that fix you've got coming in a moment." Then he pulled her head around and forward, and her lips touched his cock lightly. She almost gagged again, but she managed to choke her bile down, and she didn't try to pull away.

"Now lick it," he ordered. She looked up at him with terror-filled eyes. "If you can't do it for me, Cathy, I don't see why I should take your word you can do it for my customer." She had pulled away to look up at him, and now she licked her lips once, nervously, before diving forward. When she did, it was quick and convulsive, as though she couldn't trust herself to do it any other way.

She held his cock in her hands, resting her forearms and elbows on his thighs to steady the shaking in them, and leaned forward. She had her tongue as far out of her mouth as it would go, apparently on the theory this was one way to keep her face a little farther away from the cock even while she was licking it.

At the first warm, moist contact of her tongue to his prick he almost shot his wad. He held it back with a grunt, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. She looked up at him with a mixture of fear and hope, possibly thinking she had hurt him some way, and he might want her to stop. But he gave her a look that was clear enough in its meaning, and she went to work again, licking his cock lightly, then, as she continued to get used to things, with greater force. "All over it," he said tightly. "Move on in." She began to lick more of his cock's head, sliding her tongue back over it. The first time she hit the crown of it, he had to fight to hold himself in again. She started licking his shaft, then, and he could feel the quick shivers of delight traversing her body as she almost gagged again and again.

In a moment Bart's belly began to quiver with the approaching ejaculation. He reached down and grabbed her head between his hands. "Take it in your mouth," he said. "Come on, all the way in." She resisted him for just a moment, then took hold of herself and leaned forward, letting the cock slide into her mouth. He felt it nudge the back of her throat, and she almost gagged again just as her lips closed tightly around the shaft.

Then he began to come, shooting the cream into her mouth with fire hose force. She made gagging sounds deep in her throat, but she managed to hold on, without any effort to pull back. She held on by sheer dint of will, and the cream flowed out in one more quick shot. He saw her throat work frantically to swallow the come, and the sight squeezed one more shot out of him. The climax that swept over him was swift and powerful, wringing him like a chicken's neck. Then it was over. He leaned back in the chair as Cathy withdrew her face from his crotch. His cock hung, limp and wet, between his legs.

"Good girl," he said, leaning forward and patting her on the head patronizingly. "I'm beginning to think you might make it after all, sweetie."

He chuckled with deep enjoyment as he leaned back in the folds of the chair.