Chapter 7

It wasn't as much fun with the boy as it had been with the girls, of course, Bart thought, but it was still a kick to see the youngster stand there quaking and sweating and almost shitting in his pants for want of a fix and for the fear that he wasn't going to get it. Bart sat back and eyed the bastard, then lit a cigarette and puffed on it for a while, taking his time.

"Sorry, Doug," he said finally. "I can't afford to carry you any longer. Look at it from my point of view. You owe me three hundred bucks right now, not countin' the stuff I gave you for free."

"Come on, Bart," Doug said, rubbing his wet palms against his pants. "I've got to have it, you know that. I can't do without it. You'll get your money."

"Sure. Sure, kid. I'll get my money. Because I'm going to have it in my pocket before you get your next fix. That is, before you get your next fix from me. Of course, if you have some other place in mind where you can get it...." He let the sentence trail off. Doug stood looking down at him.

"You know I haven't," he said. "Bart, please, be a good guy, will you? I need the stuff!"

"I know. And I need money. I can't live on air, you know. What you need isn't any concern of mine. Oh, I feel for you, kid. It's just I can't afford to drag you any longer. You're gonna have to start payin' your own freight."

"But how, Bart? How can I get the money?"

"I don't care how you get it. That's your business, kid. The important thing is, you have to get it. Or do without the stuff."

The kid looked like he was going to come apart at the seams. Bart couldn't help grinning at the sight of him standing there, as easy to read as an open book. Suddenly, Doug looked at him with a darker expression.

"You bastard," he whispered. "You did this to me deliberately. You hooked me!" He stood there for a moment, then shouted, "You bastard!" He came for Bart, his hands in front of him, bent into claws. He looked like he was really planning to kill Bart. It was a sight to scare a man, even when the man, like Bart, was too smart to be caught unaware by such a situation. Bart lifted his hand from the depths of the overstuffed chair. The gun he was holding wasn't his .38. It was a .45 automatic. That kind of gun looked a lot more impressive. The sight of a bore almost a half-inch in diameter was enough to give pause even to a junky. Doug hesitated for a moment. It looked like he was going to come on again, but the sound of the safety clicking off on the .45 changed his mind.

"Naughty, naughty, muscles," Bart said. He pointed the big gun straight at the kid's face. "If you do that again, I'm going to have to defend myself, boy."

"Holy smoke," Doug said in a tense whisper. He was so scared at the front-on sight of that gun that he forgot to swear. He just stood staring at the bore of the .45 for a long time. Then he said, "Take it easy, huh, Bart. I'm not going to try anything. I just ... just...."

"Yeah, I know, kid, but I think I'll hold onto this in case you forget how peaceful you are. Now what was that you started to say before, about me getting you hooked?"

"Huh? Oh, that was nothing, Bart. Honestly. I didn't mean anything by that. It just slipped out. I'm not thinking too well right now." He tried a placating smile. It came out weak as dishwater.

"Good. I wouldn't want any misunderstandings. When you started coming here, it was of your own free will. You came here because Cathy asked you to, and you were crazy about her. Right?"

"Yeah, sure, that's right, Bart." He was still looking at the gun, but Bart could tell the boy was listening to him.

"Now, if there's one thing I can't stand, Doug, it's a whiner. The girls are both carrying monkeys bigger than yours, and they don't whine about it. They pay their way, or at least they try. I have to carry them a little now and then, but I don't mind that, because they're trying."

"How do they pay their way?" He asked the question with obvious reluctance, as though he already suspected the answer, but didn't want to hear it, or admit it to himself.

"They hump for it, Doug." Bart took another drag on his cigarette, then smiled. "That's right. Darling little Cathy, who you've been mooning all this time over, is a whore. What you thought she was saving for you has been passed out to anyone who could pay for it. It still is."

Doug closed his eyes and lowered his head for a moment. The news was strong stuff to him, of course, but he didn't spend much time worrying about it. He had too much else to worry about.

"I can't do that," he said. "They can make money for their habit that way, but I can't."

"No, that's right, you can't. At least not the same way they do. But, of course, there are some guys I know with funny tastes. They'd probably pay good money for a little of your time."

Doug stared at him. "I couldn't," he whispered. "I just couldn't do that."

"You want to bet? Wait till that monkey starts clawing away at your back, boy. You'll change your mind. But in the meantime, there are other ways a guy can make it. Have you ever tried just taking the money?"

"Taking it?"

"Sure. There are a lot of liquor stores and gas stations in this town. All you have to do is get yourself a gun and go pick out a place. When you've got money, then come back and we'll be able to do business. Cash on the barrelhead."

"You-you're talking about armed robbery."

"That's right, Doug baby. I'll even let you have a nice, unregistered gun on credit, if you want. That's one way to make your money. Of course, it does get dangerous. I was just reading the other day about a kid who got his ass shot off by some gas station attendant. He was a junky, too." Bart sat looking up at Doug while the words sank in.

"Isn't there some other way, Bart?" The boy asked finally. Bart chuckled.

"Sure. I might be able to use you." He watched the sudden hope flare up in Doug's eyes, then dim a little as the boy became more cautious.

"Use me? How Bart?"

"Well, you're a good-lookin' boy. I'm a business man. The business I deal in is girls. There's always a demand for nice, young girls, if they're good-looking and desperate enough to do anything a man wants. Girls like nice-lookin' boys like you.

That give you any ideas?" Doug stared at him for a moment, then shook his head mutely. "Then I'll explain it a little better. You're a real good-lookin' boy. From what Cathy tells me, you've been a good pupil, too. You've learned how to be a real stud. As popular as you are, you shouldn't have any trouble gettin' some girls to fall for you. And when a girl falls for a guy, she wants to please him, right? Do whatever he wants. She wants to go wherever he goes, and do what he does, and be liked by his friends." Bart could see some light dawning in Doug's eyes. "That means when you offer a girl like that a reefer, she's not going to want to insult you by refusing. Then you work her up to the hard stuff, and when she's good and hooked, you tell her how she can make money to pay for her habit."

"By working for you?" He seemed horrified by the idea.

"That's right. Of course, if you're too fucking squeamish for that, then just find your own way to pay the freight."

"Gee, Bart, I don't know-"

"Look, don't be an asshole, kid. This world is dog eat dog. You got a special problem, a problem most people don't have to face. If the only way you can solve that problem is by shittin' on some other people, then shit on them. Believe me, they'd shit on you if it was the other way around."

"I-I just don't know."

"Well, I do. If you've got any brains at all you'll do like I suggest. You'll go out and start dating these little cunts, and when you do you'll be aggressive with them. As popular as you are, and with everything you've learned from Cathy, you won't have any trouble getting in their pants. And when you do that, you'll have them where you want them. A nice girl just automatically falls in love with any guy who's managed to get into her."

"And then I can bring her here and turn her into a junky and a whore," Doug said.

"That's right, boy. Of course, if you figure that's too bad a thing, and you can't do it, then I can always lend you that gun, like I said before."

"No," he said hurriedly. "No, Bart, I don't think I could do that. I'd get killed, or I'd panic and kill someone else. I wouldn't want that to happen."

"That's good thinkin', kid. Murder one is a bad rap. And you ain't gonna do anyone any good lyin' on a slab in the morgue."

"Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask. Maybe I won't tell you, though."

"If I do start doing this, what will I get out of it?" He blushed as he asked the question, obviously ashamed. Bart chuckled.

"That's more like it, buddy. That's bein' smart. I'll tell you what you get. You get ten percent of everything the girl brings in above her commission. And how much that is will be our little secret, Doug. These girls don't have to know how much their asses are worth. Christ, Cathy and Angela wouldn't know what to do with all the money they bring in. I get a hundred bucks a day for them when they work, and pay them half of it. That means, if you've got a girl workin' for you, and she's doin' the same kind of business, you get five bucks a day for her."

"That won't begin to-"

"It won't begin to feed your monkey. Of course not. But you get five girls workin' for you, and it will. At least on the days they're all workin'. Of course a girl can't work every day. So you get eight or nine or ten of them doin' it. Then you've got it made. You've got a guaranteed income. All you have to do is just sit on your ass and watch the dough roll in. You'll have enough to feed your monkey, and some left over for a rainy day. How about that?"

"I guess there isn't much choice, is there?"

Bart just shrugged.

"But-?"

"But what, kid?"

"It's going to take some time to get a girl willing to do what you want her to do, Bart. In the meantime, how-"

"In the meantime, you're back on the cuff, kid. I told you, I don't mind helpin' someone who's trying to pay his own freight. Cathy and Angela started out owing me a lot of money, but I didn't mind. They're tryin'. That's what counts."

The idea of being on credit again was enough to drive out whatever scruples were left. Doug nodded vigorously. "All right, Bart. I'll do my best."

"Good. Now, before I give you your fix, kid, there is something I want to say. Listen up good." He paused, and Doug brought his eyes up to Bart's, showing he was listening. "This is something I told the girls, and they took it to heart. I hope you're gonna do the same. I'm really a nice, soft-hearted guy, Doug. I like to help someone out if I can. If that person deals with me on the square. But I ain't a sucker. Now, the first time Cathy went to bed with a John, she almost tossed her cookies first she was so revolted. But she went through with it, and now she's all right. She wouldn't dream of lettin' old Bart down. She knows better. She needs me to feed that monkey. But she also knows if she let me down, there'd be another punishment besides losin' her source of supply. I told her that first day. If she didn't do what she was supposed to, she'd get her arms and legs broken, and then her pretty face would be sliced up like a pie. I'd have some of my friends do it. Understand?"

Doug nodded. His eyes were wide with horror.

"Now, with a boy, there's a lot more I could have done, and I would. As long as you do what you're supposed to do, I'll be your pal. But the first time you fuck me, I'll fuck you ten times. I'll have some of those friends take you somewhere and break your arms and legs and slice up that nice face of yours. And then I'll have them do something else, too. I'll have them cut off your tool, buddy. And if you think I'm lyin' about that, you just try me."

"You didn't have to say that, Bart. I wouldn't let you down." He could hardly talk he was so scared. It wasn't just what Bart had said, of course. It was also the fact that the gun was there. The gun made it all real.

"I believe you, kid. I just wanted to be sure you understood the price, if you should change your mind."

"No, there's no chance of that. When I make a deal, I stick to it, Bart. Honest."

"Fine, fine. Now I'm going to go get your stuff. And I'm going to mark you down for another fifty bucks in the books. Fifty bucks a day, Doug. That's what it's costin' you."

"I know. I know that, Bart."

"Well, then, if I were you, I'd start workin' on a girl. The sooner the better."

Her name was Nancy Morison. She was one of the most popular girls on campus. A redhead, with a fabulous figure and the kind of personality that made for popularity. She had a face like an angel in some Italian painting. She was beautiful, Doug thought. That was the only word: beautiful.

On their first three dates they had done some heavy necking. On the third one, Doug had managed to get his hand into her bra and up under her skirt. She had objected, of course, but not very strongly.

But now Bart was beginning to get mean about it. He wanted results. He had laid the law down to Doug: get into Nancy's pants tonight, or start looking for a way to pay for his horse from now on.

It wasn't that he didn't think he could do it. She had shown she was ripe for him on the last couple of dates. Doug had learned enough to know when a girl was in love with him. It was just the opposite. He was afraid of succeeding with Nancy Morison. Because then she was on her way to being a junky and a whore, on her way to carrying a fifty-dollar monkey on her back, and humping to pay for it. That was what scared Doug. He had never done anything to hurt a person before. This would be the first time. It was something like losing your virginity, he thought. Only a lot worse.

Getting Dad's car for the evening had been easy. Doug's grades hadn't begun to slide too badly yet, although he could feel that coming. He couldn't seem to study any more. He hoped it was just because he was so worried, but he doubted it. Deep inside he was sure he wasn't going to be able to shake this. He could feel himself becoming a different person altogether.

He drove to Nancy's house and beeped the horn once. On their first date, of course, he'd had to go inside and meet her parents. That had been a tough one. To look at them, and smile, and sir and ma'am them, and know all the time what he was planning to do to their daughter, the daughter they looked at as though she were the most precious person heaven had ever bestowed on earth, was enough to make him want to go blow his brains out.

She came out almost at a run. Don't be in such a hurry, Doug thought. It's not going to be so nice once you get where you're headed. But when she opened the door and got in, and smiled at him with that dazzling, toothpaste-ad smile of hers, Doug smiled back. Nancy closed the door and slid across the seat toward him. The sliding hiked her miniskirt up even higher than normal, and she pushed it back down absently. She sat as close to him as she could, the warmth of her body reaching him through their clothing. She was wearing a dark blue skirt and a white sweater that buttoned in front. Without making it obvious, Doug eyed the outfit the way a strategist would have eyed a battlefield. It was handy, he thought, and wondered whether Nancy wasn't deliberately making things easier for him. The sweater was worn outside the skirt, so his hand could slip under it. At the same time, he'd be able to open the buttons, as on a blouse. The kind of blouse that buttoned in back would have been the hardest to cope with. But this was the best of both worlds.

"Hi, baby," he said, and ducked his head to kiss her lightly. She blushed.

"Not here, Doug. My parents could be looking at us through a window."

"Okay." He put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb.

"Where are we going?" Nancy asked.

"There's a good bill on at the drive-in."

"Mmmm," she said with mock skepticism in her voice. "I'll bet there is."

"Haven't the foggiest idea what you mean," Doug countered, and smiled down at her. He took his hand off the wheel and gave her leg a squeeze just above the knee. She took the hand very ceremoniously and lifted it from her leg.

"Just don't get any ideas. That's all."

"Who me? Why, I'm the perfect gentleman. You know that."

"You've got more hands than a string quartet."

"You complaining?"

"Don't make me answer that. A girl has to keep up a front, you know." She laid her head on his shoulder. He could smell the perfume of her hair, and some nice scent she was wearing. It excited him, and he began to look forward to this night's work.

Bastard!

He pulled into the drive-in and drove to a space in the back. Nancy looked up at him with an impish smile, as though she had an idea of why he was trying to get her back where they could have privacy. You don't know the half of it, Doug thought. She probably thought this was going to be another evening of heavy petting.

They necked while waiting for the movie to start. Doug felt himself getting hotter all the time. This was a fine girl here, he thought. The kind that would bring a lot of money to Bart. And she was his tonight. He was certain of that. He had maneuvered her, manipulated her, and now he had her where he wanted her. There was no question of it.

He kissed her deeply, feeling her come alive as his tongue darted across hers. Her arms went around his neck tightly. Doug cupped one breast briefly, waiting to see if she would object. She didn't. He slid the hand down the front of her sweater and over her lap. She squirmed a little, but still she didn't make any objection. Doug slipped his hand down the front of her sweater and over her lap. She squirmed a little, but still she didn't make any objection. Doug slipped his hand down the length of her thigh and then back up, thrusting it under the hem of her skirt. She stiffened all at once, and then pushed the hand back down.

"Let's keep this on the outside, all right, Doug?" She sounded a little worried, as though afraid she might anger him with her prudishness.

"Sure, baby," Doug said, and kissed her again. She melted against him. Doug kissed her face, her throat and her neck. All the time he let his hands move over her freely, expertly, playing her body the way an accomplished musician would play an instrument. He had learned in the past weeks how to excite a woman. Cathy had taught him that. He knew where his hands should go, and how firmly and how lightly they should play over the various parts of her body. Nancy had drawn the rules already. He knew she was worried about making him mad at her. She wouldn't be likely to come up with another restriction. Not until it was too late, anyway. He played with her that way for a long while, getting her nice and fuzzy headed. Her breathing was quick and shallow and ragged before he decided to take the next step. Then he leaned forward, pushing Nancy back. She tried to resist the pressure, tried to push back against him, but with nothing to lean against, she was fighting a losing battle. She lay back reluctantly. Doug let his body press hers into the seat cushions. He lay on her hard, letting her feel the weight of a man's body on hers for the first time, he was sure. She was puffing like a locomotive now. Her skin was hot to the touch. Doug slipped his hand down over her hip and below the hem of her skirt, then slid it back up under the skirt for a moment. He didn't hold it there for long. He could feel her stiffen, partly in anger, but mostly in passion, and he withdrew the hand before she could lodge a protest. All the while he kept up the kissing, and his other hand moved over the front of her sweater, stroking her breast. Finally, she broke her mouth away from his, twisting her head to one side.

"Doug ... Doug...." She was having trouble catching her breath enough to talk. Doug found her mouth and kissed her again. She broke off the kiss. "Doug, stop ... Doug, please stop. I have to-" Doug kissed her again. She twisted her head again, pulling her face away. Doug brushed her hair aside and touched his mouth to her ear, slipping his tongue inside. The effect was electrical. She threw her arms around his neck, hugged him to her tightly. Doug slid his hand under her skirt again, and for a moment she didn't offer any resistance. In fact, as his hand slid over her thighs and up to the front of her panties, her hips thrust upward, driving her pussy against his fingers. Then she seemed to come to all at once. She put her hands on his shoulders and tried to push him away from her. Doug slid his free arm around her shoulders and held her tightly.

"Doug, stop it," she said, fighting for breath. "Doug, please, stop now. I-" She fought for breath, her mouth open, and Doug kissed her, tasting the wine-sweet tongue again. It was several seconds before she tried to pull her mouth away, and then it was a half-hearted attempt. Still, Doug let her do it. He attacked her ear again. It was already obvious he was going to win this wrestling match. Her movements were becoming less determined already, less coordinated. His left hand, still inside her skirt, began to work at her panties. Her resistance wasn't as determined as he had expected. He removed his right arm from around her shoulders and began to unbutton her sweater. This seemed to take a lot of the fight out of her.

Her panties were down around her hips now, and with one more tug he had them down to her thighs. She kicked a little, but that was all. Doug pulled the panties down past her knees, down the length of her calves, and finally pulled the wispy garment off altogether. He dropped it to the car seat, heard it slide to the floor. His hand moved up her leg again, stroking it all the way. She moved her legs spasmodically while Doug's hand moved up into the hot recess of her crotch. She let out a little sound then, a combination of a gasp and a squeal. Doug let his hand touch her bare cunt once, stroke it, and then he slipped his finger into her a little way.

"Oh, Doug! No, Doug! Please, darling, we mustn't...." Her voice was becoming fuzzy, like a sleep talker's. Her arms had slipped around his neck again, and even as she tried to talk him out of it, she was hugging him to her. Doug pushed the front of her skirt up, revealing her cunt. She was lost then, he knew. He could tell the difference in her body. What little resistance she'd had was gone. When he managed to get his own pants and shorts down and inserted his stiffened cock against her she thrust her hips upward, presenting herself to him. Her legs opened wide, and he felt a touch of relief. Up till this moment there had always been that doubt.

He drove his cock into her, ripping through her cherry. She let out a little squeal of pain, then lay still as he filled her with his flesh. Her body was full and hot under him. Her waist, so trim and slender, seemed to swell and grow under him.

"Uhh," she said softly, a moan of tiredness, pleasure and a little sadness all mixed together. Doug lay quite still for a while, gathering his own strength after the effort he had expended overcoming her.

Her sweater was only partly open, and even while he lay there atop her he began to open the remaining buttons. He brushed the sweater out of the way, then slipped a hand into one cup of her bra. He felt the breast there, soft and warm and pulsing. He squeezed it once, then withdrew it from the confines of the bra. It was lovely, white and pink-nippled, with the nipple extended and hard. He stroked it with his thumb. Then, after a while, he began to move his hips. Just a little at first, little stroking thrusts that pushed his cock deep inside of her and withdrew it a little. Her body lay still under his, then tentatively, as she caught on to things, her own hips began to move with his, thrusting up as he came down, matching his timing after an awkward moment. The pleasure grabbed Doug's loins, and he closed his eyes, holding her close under him.

"Oh, Doug," she whispered. "Oh, darling, I love ... I love you ... so much." She was fighting for breath. Doug thrust his prick deep inside of her all at once, driving it there with sudden force, and she gasped. He could see her face from this close angle. He could see her eyes. They were glazed and heavy-lidded. She was high with the pleasure of her first sexual contact. He could see that she was already on the verge of an orgasm, just a small one, but she was beginning to feel it. She was a natural, he thought. She was going to be great. Dynamite.

Doug continued his hip motion, working the rod in her slowly, stroking her with it, bringing her up higher and higher. She shuddered with another orgasm, a greater one this time. Doug felt his own pleasure rising to a peak. He halted the motion, freezing everything right where it was, until his own urgency receded. He wanted this to be a good one. Nancy had to like it as much as he could cause her to. It was going to take all the skill and knowledge he had learned from Cathy. Nancy was already three-quarters in love with him. This contact would make the difference, and it had to be good.

When he had himself well under control again, he began to move once more, stroking her insides with his prick, pulling and pushing slowly, stretching out the pleasure, the joy of their connection. Nancy began to moan again, her sounds and words mixed into a stew of noise, meaningless but encouraging. He knew he was giving her the kind of good time he wanted to, that she was his now, forever if he wanted her. But that was impossible. She would be his, but only until he turned her over to Bart.

Doug felt his own pleasure rising to a climax, and he hurried along, thrusting faster and harder, driving into her, raising her to a higher and higher pitch of excitement and joy, sending wave after orgasmic wave through her. He could feel her body shake and tremble as the pleasure swept over and through her and he continued, raising the pleasure in each of them, driving them both to an intense peak.

He had timed it right. They both hit their big climax at the same moment. Nancy grabbed him more tightly, her arms around his neck and holding him to her with all the strength of need, more strength than he would have thought her arms could muster, if he hadn't already learned of the deceptive power of slender arms from Cathy. She held on to him, and her body thrust up against his one last time, driving along the length of his prick, forcing it into her with greater fervor than before. Her body shook, and then it was over.

He lay atop her for a while, his cock still in her, gradually losing its stiffness. Then, finally, he rose from her, and began to dress again. Nancy lay there, drawing her feet up close to her body to make room for him. She covered her face with one arm, and he wondered for a moment if she were crying.

She wasn't, but she was close to it. He could tell that after a moment. This was a touchy moment. He would have to treat her with kid gloves, convince her that he thought more of her for what she had allowed him to do, rather than less. He would have to convince her she hadn't sinned or done anything wrong. If she went away from him this night feeling ashamed or used, he might lose her.

When he was dressed, he reached down and took one of her hands. He felt her pull away a little, but he grasped the hand and squeezed it. She took her other arm from her face and looked up at him. Suddenly, she realized he was dressed and she was still naked. She sat up, pressing her legs together, and covered her breasts with her arm. She tried to pull her other arm away, but he continued to hold on to her hand.

"Don't, honey, please," he said gently. "Don't hide yourself from me." He slid over next to her, placed his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close to him. She stiffened, tried to pull away for a moment, then allowed herself to be held. But she was still stiff and rigid, still afraid. Doug kissed her on the temple. She softened a bit, not much. "I love you, Nancy," he said. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. She stared up into his eyes for a while, her lips trembling, and he knew she wanted to believe him but was afraid to. He kissed her on the lips, a chaste and tender kiss. "I mean it," he said. "You can believe me, baby. You can trust me."

"I-Oh, I don't know! Doug, do you mean it?"

"Of course, silly. How can you doubt it?" He tightened his arm about her, kissed her lips again, and then planted a kiss on top of her head. "Now, you'd better get dressed. I'm going to take you somewhere and get you something to eat, and then I'm going to take you home. And I'm going to call you tomorrow. Maybe we can go out somewhere, if you can get out."

"To do this again?" she asked suspiciously.

"No. Not unless you want to. If you think that's the only reason I have for wanting to take you out, you're wrong. I told you. I love you. And I'm going to keep asking you out, whether you want me to make love to you or not. I mean that, honey."

He was feeding her the bull now, of course. But she probably needed to hear this kind of thing.

And to a point it was true. He had too much time and effort invested in her to give up now. He'd keep her going for a while, even if she decided to test his "love" by making him keep hands off. In a little while she'd want him to screw her again. She had enjoyed it too much to leave it alone now. And before long, she'd be dependent on him enough to do other things just to keep him interested, including smoking reefers, and then trying the hard drugs. And after that, it would be just a short time before she would belong to him, and then to Bart. And he'd be on his way to trap another girl the same way. And then another and another. It made his head swim to think of it. He'd have to have a whole batch of them working for Bart before his commission would pay for his habit. And even more of them before he could start to pay back the debt he was building up now. Nancy was dressing, and she looked up at him and smiled tremulously. Doug gave her an answering smile, reassuring and automatic.

He was going to have to bring her along fast.