Chapter 9

This variation of the eternal triangle continued unabated, Moy's business made increasing demands upon his time as the weather turned cooler and the social swing rose to new heights. This left Claudia free to continue her assault upon the tiny servant's virtue.

Claudia would steal behind Lily, as the dainty little girl was performing the various tasks about the apartment, and take her in her arms. Lily would struggle a bit and then the strength would go out of her. Claudia experienced the most lascivious sensations as she felt the rigidity leave the other girl's delicate body. She would caress her gently and fondle what she could of her without seeming too crude. Inside, she felt the flood of passion rising like a turbulent sea. She would kiss her tiny lover until her breath would choke her and the carnal desire became unbearable. Lily's face would wear a frightened look and Claudia's better sense would force her to desist for the moment; but it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to do so.

She could not throttle the burning desire to see Lily's undraped form. She would lie awake at night and see the diminutive figure with its smooth soft skin the color of old ivory. She would reach out in the dark to clutch the lovely vision to her, and her frustrated arms would grasp nothing. When she thought of what she would give for a glimpse of the oriental girl's form, she grew frightened of the intensity of her desire.

She grew more cunning.

One afternoon she sat talking with Lily; the proximity of the girl made her hands twitch nervously. "Lily," she said, "I was reading an article the other day about Chinese women, and the author had many strange things to say."

The girl looked up with interest. Claudia continued: "He wrote that there were many physical differences between the oriental woman and the woman of the West. It came as a revelation to me. He said that many of the Chinese girls have but one breast."

The Chinese girl broke out into her musical laugh. "That is ridiculous. We have the same form as the white woman."

Claudia pretended to be unconvinced. "Well, I don't know. Although I do not believe everything I see in print, nevertheless I do not see how a reliable publication would print such a statement unless there was considerable truth in it."

"Of course it is ridiculous," Lily cried. "I will prove it to you!" She quickly pulled the bodice of her dress down over her shoulders, slid off the straps of the chemise and proved conclusively that oriental girls were double-breasted. Two small pear-like breasts pointed, nipples like accusing fingers, directly at Claudia. The latter was only able to restrain her excitement by a great effort.

"Well," she said indifferently, "that seems to prove that your women have two breasts; but the writer also maintained that the sex organ in the Chinese female was slanted like the eyes. This seems strange to me because that is not the case in the women of my race. See?" And she lifted the dress she was wearing up to her waist. She wore no undergarments and the fat-lipped crease was visible in its forest of glossy hair.

Lily stared as if fascinated. She pressed her tongue slowly over her dry lips. Claudia moved closer and took the girl's hand in her own and passed it over the converging lips of her cleft.

"You see; that is how the sex organ of a white woman is. I suppose yours must be a lot different. But then, the various races have all kinds of peculiarities."

Lily spoke haltingly, "I don't think there is any difference between that part of my body and what you have shown me."

"That should be easy to prove," Claudia returned, her voice a challenge.

Lily hesitated and then slowly removed every stitch of clothes and stood before Claudia with downcast eyes, her hands unconsciously guarding her femininity. Claudia's eyes swept over her slim nakedness. Lily's parts were put together with loving care. So delicately formed was she that any other woman by comparison would appear coarse. She was that rare type which would delight only the discriminating, the initiated. She was like some extraordinary wine with so faint a bouquet that it would be noticed only by the finest palate.

"Sit down, child," Claudia said gently and the trembling girls sank on the couch. "Now spread your legs so we can see," ordered her mistress.

The girl slowly spread wide her beautifully turned limbs and Claudia sat on the floor with her legs beneath the couch. Her hands, resting on the girl's knees, spreading her legs. Her mouth was perilously close to Lily's sex. She stared at the girl's delicate orifice, which rose out of a downy growth of hair like a little foothill of flesh. Claudia moistened her finger and touched the vulval lips. The girl stirred uneasily, but her eyes were closed and she uttered no protest. Claudia continued her gentle friction and the girl's beautiful rounded belly began to quiver. Now Claudia probed deeper and deeper into the vaginal tract.

"What are you doing to me?" the girl whispered, but she made no effort to put a stop to Claudia's questing fingers.

Slowly her vulval lips began to part before the stimulus of the insistent fingers. From a sitting position the girl sank supine upon the couch, her very gesture indicating surrender. Her breath was coming with great rapidity, and to all appearances her emotions were no longer under control. Claudia continued to excite the girl, while at the same time she brushed her full moist lips over Lily's warm body. She laved her firm breasts and experienced such emotions of desire as she had never known before. "Oh, Claudia dear! Go on! It feels so nice!"

Claudia worked to put the girl on fire. She drove her finger deeper into the girl until she encountered the resistance of the hymen. She determined to deflorate Lily as suddenly and as painlessly as possible. Cunningly she stroked the sensory centers of the girl's body until she worked her passions into a state where an actual orgasm was acutely necessary.

When Claudia had her practically out of her head with feeling, she tore into Lily's hymen. Lily gave a little cry but she was in such sexual heat that the pain was almost negligible. She soon felt that delicious moisture within her, and her nervous system was unknotted by the soothing inner flow. Now she was lying in a blissful state of complete relaxation, her delicately veined lids with their incredibly long lashes drooping over her cheeks. Claudia immediately ran to the bathroom and with a moist towel wiped away the small amount of blood which had begun to flow as a result of her defloration.

The girl remained reclined in a state of lassitude. "Claudia," she whispered. "I feel so strange. It is as if I heard the heavenly angels sing. What was it you did to me?"

"I loved you, Lily," Claudia replied.

"I like being loved," the little girl said shyly and Claudia put her smooth white arms about her. "I love you too," the little girl answered as she pressed her honeyed lips against those of her mistress.

That was the start of what was to Claudia the most intense feeling of affection she had ever borne anyone. She tolerated Moy's caresses, but that was all. Sexually he had ceased to exist for her. Especially now that she had won over Lily to her practices. The little Chinese thought that the entire thing was some sort of game and that Claudia had made a new and delightful playmate of her. And now it was she that took the initiative and it was Claudia who pretended to be bored. She would climb into her lap and curl up like a kitten and press her lips to the white girl's mouth. Moy's departure became a signal for their orgies. They could hardly wait until he had taken his leave to begin. Then they would divest themselves of their clothing almost immediately and begin the love-play. Claudia was so enamored by the strange beauty of the yellow girl that she almost derived sufficient gratification from, mere contemplation of her charms and her physical nearness. As yet there had been no actual cunnilingus. Claudia had never performed the perverted act, but some irresistible force seemed to rivet her eyes upon the other's sex and make her lips move. She yearned to imbed them in the Oriental's crotch.

One afternoon, shortly after Moy had left, Lily seated herself in Claudia's lap. The usual kissing and fondling followed. As Claudia's lips closed about the girl's tiny rosebud of a mouth, she sensed a new and reciprocal passion within her. She knew the time was ripe. She sucked in Lily's mouth and, by clever manipulation, soon had her throbbing with desire. This time she meant to go all the way. She kissed the yellow girl's slim throat and ran her hands over her slender hips. Lily was more responsive now than she had ever been. She locked her arms behind Claudia's neck and rubbed her firm breasts against hers. Their tongues met in moist ecstasy. Claudia lifted the tiny bundle of nerves and carried her into the bedroom. They lay tightly enfolded in each other's arms, senses flooded by the uprush of emotion. Claudia's fingers stole to the girl's sex and began their manipulation. Lily started to squirm and moan under Claudia's touch and when the latter carried away her hand it was moist. She was no longer able to control herself and she pulled the little Chinese girl to the edge of the bed and knelt beside her, spreading her legs wide and holding onto her knees, driving her face into her crotch and her tongue into the widespread lips of her vulva. What sensations came over her as her sensitive tongue explored the girl's inner regions, as the delicate taste buds felt the stimulus of the salty, sticky emission. She licked her vagina like a kitten laps up a saucer of cream. The girl could only make little animal cries as she experienced the nerve-jarring touch of Claudia's tongue. A tremendous need for sexual appeasement came over Claudia as she watched Lily in her throes. She seemed to derive additional gratification because her subject was so responsive. She jumped into bed and mounted Lily and pressed her sex against her. Their clitorises met and they began a wild friction which soon resulted in relief.

That quieted them for the moment. It was Lily who recovered first. "Where did you learn to play like this?" she asked Claudia with unbelievable naivete. "I never played such wonderful and exciting games before. I never read of such things in books."

Claudia smiled. "That is called French play," she told her. "All the French children play like this."

The answer seemed to satisfy the little servant. She was silent for a while and then she said to Claudia, "I like this game. Let us play some more!"

They were locked in mutual embrace and began to work up carnal heat anew. This time Claudia suggested that Lily be the active one. Nothing loath, the girl bowed forward between Claudia's drawn-up legs and darted her tiny pink tongue into the rosy slit between her legs.

"It tickles," she laughed, but she went on with the act. When Claudia began to seep with semen from her orifice, Lily accelerated the speed of her tongue. She possessed an instinctive talent for this sort of thing, for there was nothing repulsive to her about it. She had built up no taboos or inhibitions concerning the morality of the act. It may be said that the child was amoral rather than immoral.

Claudia experienced a splendid and satisfying orgasm and was happy that she had found a marvelous partner for sexual expression.

Later one morning at breakfast Moy said rather curiously, "Did you ever notice how Lily's eyes follow you about like a faithful dog. I never noticed that before. There's something strange about it . . . " And he shook his head.

Icy fingers of fear clutched at Claudia's heart. "Oh," she said, "she's nothing but an affectionate child. I feel toward her like I would toward my own sister."

Moy dismissed the subject and the two girls continued in their feverish affair. Claudia tried to be as discreet as she could under the conditions, but the little girl was getting out of hand. She was so simple in the ways of life and its conventions that she did not realize the enormity of their offense in the eyes of society. Lily took the initiative now. She was a born cunnilinguate. Both were caught in a whirlpool of sensuality.

Claudia scarcely left the apartment now and Moy was looking at the two with uneasy eyes. He was no fool, but the average man does not think in terms of lesbianism. Such a revelation always comes as a stunning surprise. Claudia was still safe so far as Moy was concerned, unless they were caught in the actual performance.

Claudia was often forced to leave her lover to go about with Moy, and the little girl would become insane with jealousy. She was increasingly hard to handle. For the greater part of a week Claudia and her sweetheart had been separated by circumstance. One day they found themselves alone.

Lily twined herself about the larger girl like a vine. Her fragrance, like wet violets, assailed Claudia's nostrils and her blood frothed within her. They met that day on an amorous battlefield and many were the perverted caresses that were exchanged between them.

"I nearly died, I missed you so!" the diminutive Sappho exclaimed as she buried her face between Claudia's plump breasts. "I can't go on living without you!"

Claudia was alarmed by the girl's passion for her, but gave herself up completely to the pleasure of the moment. The daughter of the East had buried her face between Claudia's thighs and was working upon the orifice. Soon the lips parted and the entire mechanism of the female sex apparatus yawned before her. She drove her tongue in deeper than she ever had before. Claudia's reaction to her onslaught only renewed her fury, and soon she was able to see her clitoris leap to rigidity like a little finger. Her lips closed about the small projection and she felt the shudder running through Claudia's body.

"Nibble on it! Nibble on it!" cried the white girl as she felt herself torn by erotic emotion.

Lily complied and Claudia's passion knew no bounds as at last the torrential stream within her started to flow. When Lily began to taste the emission she too felt within her the craving for satisfaction and she reversed her position until her own sex cavity was over Claudia's mouth and her feet were about her head. In this manner they both sated themselves by simultaneous cunnilingus.

It seemed to Claudia that they had reached the zenith in lesbian satisfaction. She was weary and worn after this wracking bout with Lily, who seemed never to tire of their erotic play. Claudia lay exhausted in her arms until the lateness of the hour made it imperative that she dress and leave for the club where

Moy was expecting her. There was something special that evening and he had asked her to come.

When she arrived, Moy greeted her. She looked lovely, as always.

"My dear," he said in a pleased tone. "You do me credit. You are absolutely ravishing tonight."

Sexual indulgence seemed to take no toll from the beauty of Claudia, although she felt far from fresh. Her strength lay in her remarkable recuperative powers. Even now, after the hectic and sapping afternoon she had spent with Lily, she felt new vitality seething through her.

"What's all the excitement for?" she asked Moy.

"Killer Jones, the new world's heavyweight champion is running a party tonight for the newspaper boys. He's bought out the entire club. He's a pretty wild sort of fellow-a Negro, you know-and there may be trouble."

"Why should there be any trouble?" Claudia asked.

"Oh, very likely nothing will happen but he has a reputation for eccentricity. Nobody knows just what he will do, not even he himself. He has been called a second Battling Siki. But he certainly is a tiger in the ring," he added admiringly.

Claudia looked forward to an exciting evening. Even so glamorous a spot as the Chinese Lily lost its glitter if you hung around often enough. The prospect of seeing the giant Negro who had just recently won the championship was a thrilling one. At least it promised something different and unusual.

Killer Jones swaggered in at eleven o'clock, followed by his manager and trainer. When Claudia first saw him her first impression was a dark mountain. All she saw was shoulders. He was attired in evening dress and the severe black and white of his formal clothes brought out the darkness of his skin. He wore a big broad smile and his teeth behind his well-shaped lips were dazzling to behold. His features were surprisingly regular and his hair was smooth and sleek upon his head. He betrayed none of the marks of his profession except for slightly thickened ears. His motions had the lazy grace and swiftness of a jungle animal. Wherever he stood he rose head and shoulders above the rest. He radiated natural vigor and energy. And when he laughed it was like the booming noise of a bass drum. He was everywhere at once: talking, laughing and drinking. The newspaper men stood in awe of him. When he moved, they were careful to give him plenty of room. Waiters hovered solicitously in attendance. He looked at them with a slightly bored air of one to the manner born. In truth, one year before, he had been a stoker on a Mississippi steamboat.

Nothing untoward occurred until late in the evening, when a nervous waiter spilled a little wine on his coat sleeve. The poor fellow shriveled with fear as the giant Negro slowly and dramatically rose to his feet and clutched him by the collar with one huge black paw. All activity in the club ceased. All eyes were focused on the black giant to see what he would do. He doubled his great fist and shook it beneath the hapless waiter's nose. The crowd watched with bated breath.

"If he hits him, he'll kill him," muttered one famous sportswriter.

At this moment Claudia laid one dainty hand upon the coat sleeve of the enraged fighter and looked up at him out of her clear dark eyes.

"Why not strike me?" she said, her voice filled with disdain. "I could probably put up as good a fight as he could."

He looked at her, a little taken aback by her scorn, but liking the looks of her as she stood between him and his intended prey. This one was class. Jeez, the broad was beautiful! If a guy could only make something like this! He sent the waiter sprawling with a flick of his wrist and turned to Claudia with a little bow.

"I'm sure sorry to have made you any trouble, ma'am. I guess I just lost my head. I'm really very sorry 'cause you are the prettiest lady ever I did see."

The commotion in the club subsided as Claudia and Jones stood talking together. Moy came up to them to see if everything was going all right. When he saw that possible notoriety had been averted through the prompt action of Claudia, he whispered in her ear, "Keep him entertained if you can and perhaps he will leave the club the way he found it-in one piece."

Claudia seated herself at Jones' table, to his evident delight. His direct simplicity was very appealing to the girl. "You look to me like one of these here angels right out of heaven," he told her.

"Aren't you afraid I might rise up right before your very eyes like little Eva?" she asked him.

"If you does, your old Uncle Tom'll try to rise right up there with you."

The killer's manager was trying to get him to leave.

"Time to go home, son," he told Jones. "You gotta get in a lot of trainin' tomorrow. Can't hang around this place all night."

The big black seared him with a look. "I'm the champ, ain't I? Then what the hell you orderin' me around for? Lay off, see?" There was cold menace in his look and his manager drew back as though stung.

Now he turned his attention to Claudia and pleaded with his eyes. Drops of inky perspiration stood out on his forehead. Claudia looked at him, calmly enjoying his apparent discomfort. He was a child with a stick of dynamite in his hand.

"Do you get around here much?" he asked.

"Oh, once in while," she replied.

"That's too bad," he said disconsolately.

"What's too bad?" she inquired.

"Too bad you don't go nowhere else besides this here joint, cause I ain't so welcome in the white man's place, even if I am the champ."

"You're here tonight," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but that's only special. It was hard for 'em to refuse to entertain all the newspaper boys. But any other time, they don't want me and I know it and so do you."

Claudia watched his great knotted fingers moving nervously over the snowy tablecloth. He was rolling a pair of sugar cubes as though they were dice. What would happen to anyone caught in the grip of that massive hand. She felt it clutching her soft white skin and alternate tremors of heat and cold flittered through her body. She played with the idea in her mind. She must be insane, she told herself, to even harbor the fantastic notion of ever having anything to do with this barbarian, and yet . . .

"You must have dozens of women," she led off, watching him out of the corner of her eye and pretending to herself that she was asking the question just to make conversation.

"I've known my share," he said carelessly.

He would have, too. He had many attractions for women. Young, strong, rich, and nice-looking, in a rugged way. No wonder they felt drawn to him.

The orchestra was playing a hot tune, and below the table she could see his long, narrow feet move in time to the music.

"Like to dance?" she asked.

"Yeahman!" he said enthusiastically. "I sure does love to move my bones, and I shakes a mean hoof, I does. I got a cup I once won in a Lindy Hop contest when I was in Harlem. If we was somewhere else I would ask you to tangle with me."

"What's somewhere else?" she asked him, her body throbbing with a new illicit excitement.

"You mean you'd dance with me and maybe go out with me?" he asked, his eyes rolling in his head at the thought.

"I might," Claudia murmured in a voice so low that Jones had to bring his head close to hers; her hair brushed his face. He was trembling with suppressed excitement. He had never imagined that he could ever get so close to this white queen, and now that he stood on the threshold, he could hardly contain himself. He decided to gamble all on one move. That was how he fought in the ring.

"Would you come to this address?" he whispered; he reached in his pockets and came up with a card. He slid it to her across the table unnoticed. "I'll be there every evenin' between ten and one," he told her. "I'll be looking for you." His piercing gaze made Claudia drop her eyes. What was she letting herself in for, she asked herself. She had her hands full now with keeping Lily from getting out of bounds and deceiving Moy as to her relations with the little servant girl. And now she was preparing for a new liaison with a black man. She must be out of her head. A Chinaman was bad enough, but a Negro--where would she wind up if she continued her journey along the trail of lust? Where would it take her in the end? She would tear up the card the first chance she got. This shadowy giant was no person to play with. He was dangerous and it might be as much as her life was worth to cross him. Her caution told her that she had best not begin an alliance that could only end in one way. She could hold off other men, but not this crude son of Goliath. Yes, she would tear up the card.

The sound of his deep, rolling, musical voice stopped her stream of consciousness. He said with a world of urgency in his voice, "You'll come!"

Just then Moy walked over to their table and held out his arm. Claudia took advantage of his presence to rise and say goodbye. As she left the Negro, she threw a last look over her shoulder and saw him standing as though made of stone, his eyes burning a hole into her body. There was no more pleading in his demeanor, but a certain wordless domination, almost hypnotic, which seemed to beat at the base of her brain. She shivered. Yes, she must tear the card up. But in her heart she knew she lied.

Her life swept on the next few days in the same old way. Lily's hands were always upon her. Moy made his demands, too; but the Chinese girl was like a gutting flame. She learned new sex-tricks every day. She made Moy's act of intercourse seem childish.

Claudia was depending upon her more than she realized. She, herself, was an oversexed girl, and had it not been for the tiny oriental nymph, Moy would never have held her as long as he did. It took a real man to pacify the torrential lust of this woman.

It was on a Tuesday afternoon that Claudia found herself sitting on the lounge of her apartment, immersed in thought. What was she going to do about Killer Jones? It was like the rhythmic sound of a creaking wagon wheel. You tried to get it out of your head, but you could not, no matter how hard you tried.

Two arms encircled her neck from behind. It was Lily. Claudia tried to brush her away. She was not in the mood today. She was distraught and worried. Lily was insistent and her hands slid beneath her dress. Claudia began to quiver despite herself. Lily pressed her tiny mouth to hers and her pink little tongue began to dart into Claudia's with amazing rapidity. Claudia struggled to free herself from this insatiable tyrant, but to no avail. She felt enveloped by lips and arms and legs. It was impossible to pry the lustful Lily loose. She wanted to cry out, to free herself, but suddenly she wilted. The little Chinese was too much for her.

When Lily felt her mistress' body sag in her arms, she uttered a triumphant cry. She had nothing more to learn from Claudia. Now it was she who dominated their love-play. She disrobed the beautiful form of the now docile white girl and stretched her out on the lounge. She began with her slender feet and worked upward with her tongue over the delicately turned ankles and rounded knees; and then where the thighs began their glorious swell; and at last into the final goal-the female orifice. Claudia was mere clay in the hands of the skillful child who molded her to her will.

No longer did she sweep this small yellow creature into her arms and do with her as she liked. It was turnabout. She had become the passive one. She felt the strong little hands turn her over until she reclined face down upon the lounge. Something warm and soft was flowing over her rectum. She turned her head and saw Lily applying her educated tongue to her rear orifice. Innumerable sensations crowded in upon her as the youthful disciple of Eros performed the Sapphistic rites. Now the girl turned Claudia on her back once more, and this time she pressed her negligible weight upon her, rubbing her sex upon Claudia's. Her own clitoris was so prominent that she was able to produce considerable friction, and soon both girls were in the throes of the orgasm. Claudia could only lie quietly under her ministrations and thus ride out the storm. There was something almost repulsive in the manner Lily would grunt and perspire as she thrashed about and twined her limbs about her.

They had just finished and Claudia was engaged in putting on her clothes while Lily, still nude, looked on. The door opened without warning, and Moy stood framed in the doorway. His quick eyes took in the scene.

"What's going on here?" he asked harshly, his eyes mere slits in his face as he stared at them with suspicion.

Claudia felt as though she had turned to ice. She lost her head for the moment; her mind a blank. For the life of her, she could not give out a logical utterance. Lily broke the silence as she draped her dress over her naked body.

"I was not feeling well and Madame was rubbing my back for me to see if she could take some of the pain out of it."

Her transparent lie brought a sneer to Moy's lips. He gazed at her with so deadly a look that she shrank back in fear. He advanced toward Claudia and she backed up against the wall. His hands were claws ready to tear her throat. Only Lily's horrified scream saved the white girl from sudden and violent death. Her outcry served to bring Moy to his senses.

"I will have the girl examined by a doctor, and if the examination will show what I think it will, you will be in a difficult position, my dear," he said in a cold, menacing tone.

Claudia realized her life was in danger. She had to clear out before Moy could have the girl looked at. A physician could tell in a moment that the girl had been deflowered.

"You're entirely mistaken, Lee," she told him boldly, finding her tongue at last.

"Perhaps. But tonight you do not leave your room and Lily goes back to her family. Don't try any tricks. There will be a hatchet man outside."

He left her to simmer in a mess of her own concoction. She thought of leaping from the window, but the distance was too great. She thought of waving to strangers in the street to attract their attention, but that would not work either. The telephone! She ran to it and found the instrument in working order. Who should she call? The police? No, that would embroil them all in the toils of the sensational press, and oceans of printer's ink would splatter her over the yellow front pages.

She paced up and down the apartment searching for a solution; suddenly she thought of Killer Jones. She ran to her purse for his card. She found it buried beneath a few bills and the usual feminine knick-knacks. The card read: "Cotton Cave-665-47th Street." A telephone number was scrawled across its face. Claudia dialed the number, her heart bursting within her. She heard the ringing at the other end of the line. A Negro voice answered, "Hello there?"

"Let me talk to Killer Jones," she asked.

The voice at the other end sounded dubious. "He pretty busy right now, I dunno . . . "

"Tell him it's the white girl from the Chinese Lily. He'll understand."

There was a sound of a chuckle at the other end. "Yes ma'am, I do that. Jes' hold the line."

She clung to the receiver. She could hear the faint sound of music and laughter and tinkling glasses. After what seemed ages, she heard the unmistakable booming tones of the Killer.

"Is that you, honey?" His voice was filled with eagerness.

"Yes, it's I. You've got to come here right away. I'm in trouble."

"I'm practically there now, honey."

"Wait!" she cried and she explained the situation.

He laughed. "Ain't no old Chinaman gonna get this boy-no sir! I fix all that. You just wait for me, sweetness."

Claudia hung up the receiver with a profound sigh of relief. He would get her out of this, she knew it. She sat down and tried to compose herself.

She did not have to wait long. There was a sound of a muffled cry and the impact of a fist against flesh.

"Are you there, honey?" she heard him whisper.

"Yes. But you'll have to force the door."

He laughed shortly. The door began to tremble before the power of a massive shoulder. It made protesting squeaks and then flew open. He smiled his great toothy smile when he saw her waiting for him.

"All ready, sweet stuff?"

Claudia had thrown her belongings into a bag and she was set to leave Moy behind with nothing but his memories of her. Out in the hallway they stepped over the limp body of the Chinese guard, and a moment or so later they were spinning into the night in Jones' high-powered car.

He drove with frighteningly reckless abandon. Wherever he went he was waved at. Traffic policemen extended him courtesies as he swept grandly over the Southside boulevards.

With a screeching of brakes he pulled up before the "Cotton Cave," a typical club with a stairway leading below the sidewalk. As they got out of the car, a grinning Negro doorman saluted Jones rapturously. Tattered Negro boys came crowding about the ebony giant from all directions. "It's the champ!" they cried. "How you, Killer?"

The prize-fighter dug his hand into a pocket and sent a silver shower of coins through the air. There was a joyful shout as the boys fell on hands and knees to scoop up the money.

Jones took Claudia by the arm and they descended grandly into the Cave. A roar greeted their entrance. The black boys in the band struck up a few bars of He's a Jolly Good Fellow, and a howling mob surged about them, all eager to grasp the champion's hand. Such a reception might have been accorded an ancient monarch. They were led grandly to a table near the dance floor.

Once Claudia was seated she took advantage of the opportunity to look the place over. It was a typical black and tan night club with the usual intimate arrangements. Most of the seating was set up in the form of booths so that the habitu‚s could have plenty of privacy. Many alliances between black men and their white lovers were better maintained in secrecy, so far as those involved were concerned. There was also a fair share of white men with pretty mulatto girls. The lights were purposely very dim. They seemed to fight vainly to gleam through the tobacco-laden air. Gin appeared to be the favorite drink, and bottles were all over the place. The clientele apparently had money and was recruited from the higher circles of the city; dress clothes were quite common.

The floor show was going on when Claudia and Jones made their entrance. It was fast and dirty. Many of the sallies were for the benefit of the large Negro. He was the idol of his people and the target of all eyes.

Two Negro girls attired in scanty shorts and brassieres, with little boxing gloves on their hands, came out and did a tap routine. One of them bore a banner across her breast, "Killer Jones, the Champion" and the other bore the name of Jones' last victim. The routine ended as the "Champion" defeated her "opponent."

"You certainly are tops around here," Claudia said wonderingly.

Jones laughed. "Me? I'm number one in this town. Ain't nuthin' I can't get if I just ask for it." He reached across the table and buried her slim hand in his black, feverish paw. "I'm askin' for you," he said as his smoldering gaze set her heart leaping wildly.

She hesitated. The floor show was over and couples were crowded on the floor. She parried for a time. "Let's dance," she suggested and rose halfway out of her seat before he could object. They slid out on the tiny dance floor. Though tall for a girl, Claudia's head was several inches below the big fighter's chin. They moved together like a ship upon the sea. The floor became more and more crowded with couples and dancing became impossible. Saxaphones wailed, and trumpets gave out silvery muted sounds. Claudia stood on tiptoe as she felt herself being rocked in Jones' oak-like arms. He pushed one leg into the juncture of her thighs and she could feel the rising of a great lump against her. She closed her eyes and her lips began to quiver. She heard the thump-thump of his heart against her ears as she rested her head against his deep chest. The music came to an abrupt stop. "Tha's all. There ain't no more," sung out the band leader and the dancers cleared the floor. Claudia felt the huge Negro shaking like a leaf beside her. She understood his trouble well. And all around them she saw the envious eyes of other women. A feeling of pride began to stir in her. Of all the women he knew he had singled her out, and she had the power to make this veteran of fifty fights tremble with desire for her. She glowed with the consciousness of her power over him.

"Honey," he was saying. "Why can't we get right on outa here. Let's go over to my place. What d'ya say?"

"If you promise to behave . . . "

He stared at her with a menacing look which had turned many an opponent sick with fright.

"When a lady is as pretty as you are," he told her, "I ain't promisin' nothin'. "

Claudia hesitated, not sure of what to say.

Jones had her by the arm. "C'mon, you're goin' with me."

He led her out of the place and back into his car, then drove to the hotel he lived in. Eyes followed them curiously as they stepped into the elevator. He ushered Claudia into his place and closed the door after her. "Now we're alone," he said, a smile of joy illuminating his dark features.

He tore off his clothes until all he had on was a pair of gaudy shorts. He was proud of his magnificent body and Claudia could only look with open-mouthed awe at the tremendous rolling biceps that ebbed and flowed in dark waves beneath his skin.

He took her in his arms and pressed his full lips to hers. When he released the girl he said, "Gal, your lips is like the taste of honey!" He put his long fingers on the hooks of her dress. "Let's us see what you got." There was a dangerous gleam and a hungry look in his eyes as he fumbled about with passionate hands. He tilted back her slender throat and sank his dark mouth into its softness like a knife. Claudia protested feebly, but it was like attempting to stay a voracious tiger. He tore the garments from the shivering girl and at last she rose like a flower from out of the shreds. She cowered before him in her tempting pink and white nakedness. He bent over and opened her arms. When he saw the round globes of flesh he could no longer contain himself, and his black arms snaked about the girl from knee to waist as he strained this white goddess to him, pressing his face deep into her breast.

Claudia was powerless, both physically and mentally, to stand off this primitive animal. She was torn by an unaccountable emotion: a mingling of repulsion and attraction. But her inherent passion got the better of her and she began to respond to his bone-crushing caresses. An enormous bulge strained against the pair of shorts he wore and Claudia's hands stole to his sex organ. When she had felt its hugeness, she dropped it as though she had come in contact with a live coal.

Jones read the hesitancy in her mind and he immediately snatched her up in his arms and bore her into the bedroom. They lay side by side in the intense darkness. His arms cut into her fragrant softness. His long fingers ran through her hair and she lay in his arms, thrilling against the toughness of his muscular body. And all the while she felt the middle leg throbbing against her like a policeman's club suddenly come to life. Her hands sought out his enormous tool.

"You'll tear me apart if you ever try to put that thing in me, Champ," she said.

"Don't you worry none, baby. I puts it in and it stays in," he replied. And he began to prepare the way for entrance by fingering her orifice. When he had her vaginal tract sticky with sex fluid, he put the great head of his spear against her vulval lips. At last he was started on the thrilling journey. Inch by inch he eased into her, spreading the uterine passage until the poor girl was crying out in pain. But nothing could have compelled the black man to desist, because he was no longer responsible for his acts. He was beyond control. Her very tightness inflamed him. Deeper and deeper and deeper he sank his penis into her until, with a last unbearable painful thrust, he was in most of the way.

"Stop! Stop!" Claudia cried. "You can't get in any further!"

The maddened Negro desisted and contented himself with lying in this position. Claudia saw red pinwheels exploding in the surrounding darkness. She reached down and grasped his scrotum at the root of his prodigious penis and began to manipulate it with her fingers to induce the flow of semen. Soon she felt the warm flow within her and knew that he was spending. It seemed to Claudia as though a never-ending geyser was spurting into her. At last he had finished his ejaculation.

"Next time," he said, "I puts old John Henry in all the way."

Claudia shivered. She knew she could not hold his great length within her. She looked down to see the mighty organ in the process of tumescence. A horrible fear grew in her. This man would do her irreparable injury if she allowed him to penetrate her again.

She rolled his club between her fingers and closed her legs about its length and drew away from him in sharp jerks. In this manner she practically milked the semen from him and assuaged his passion.

Jones was forced to leave for an exhibition in St. Louis. Only his manager prevented him from taking Claudia with him by pointing out the effect of public opinion upon such a procedure. Jones left her in his apartment, promising to return the following evening. He finally left and Claudia sat alone in his apartment, wondering . . .