Chapter 1
Lilith Nordstrom was a very flexible fourteen. She could when it suited her purposes, either squash her apparent age down to twelve or expand it to a grown-up, shrewd and sexy eighteen. Being by nature an entirely - opportunist, and a calculating, little bitch as well, she frequently took advantage of this seemingly miraculous ability, using it either to escape punishment for wrongdoing or to obtain anything she wanted.
The things she wanted would have made and endless list. At the moment, she was being rather a precocious, aware, chic sixteen. She had certain physical attributes that furthered this illusion and, being entirely in the nude, they were all on display. She was alone in her room at the rear of the two-story building that was her home and she was standing at a window that faced the back yard. It also faced the trailer where old Nils Rundy lived. From her lofty vantage point, she could look directly down into his kitchen and quite plainly see what he was doing. He had dropped his pants to his knees and was masturbating himself, while staring up at her with hotly yearning eyes. Saliva drooled wetly from his loose, trembling lips.
"Go ahead and jack yourself off, you nasty, dirty, old man," Lil said aloud, although she knew Nils couldn't hear her. Play with your crumby cock while you stare at my legs and my tits and my cunt and dream your filthy, old dreams. You may as well enjoy it, because that's all you're going to get from me ... ever!" She laughed and there was no mirth in her laughter, only a sardonic and sadistic kind of evil.
She was one of those rare, blond girls who are blond all over, even to the wedge of hair above her crotch. The white, rosy perfection of her skin was an all-over thing too, as was the fresh patina of her youth. At fourteen, she was nearly as mature of body as she would ever be. Delicately shaped legs rose to sensuously formed thighs and womanly hips. Above a narrow waist, she swelled again to accommodate voluptuous breasts. They were soft, yet firm, more rounded than pointed, but with a saucy, upward-and-outward tilt to them. The pink and rose nipples thrust themselves forward like two hard, erect, tiny penises. As she drew her long-fingered, red-tipped hands suggestively up the gleaming contours of her thighs, her blue eyes glistened with delight and her crimson lips curled into a snear of scorn.
"Fucking, old bastard!" she said.
It wasn't that she hated Nils. At least she didn't hate him more than she hated all adults. It was simply that Nils was available and had been foolish enough to place himself in a position that made him vulnerable to her. He had made this mistake shortly after Lil's father, John Nordstrom, had taken pity on the old man and had allowed him to park his trailer in their back yard. In exchange for the donated space, Nils did such chores around the place as lawn mowing, trash gathering and flower gardening. On a hot, summer's day, when Lil had returned from swimming, and had carelessly flaunted her bikini-clad body at him while passing his trailer, Rundy had surprised her by grabbing her and trying to drag her into a nearby tool shed. Confident of her ability to get away from him whenever she chose, Lil had put up a token struggle, enjoying the feel of his hard hands on her breasts after he had ripped the bathing suit top off of her. He had also run a hand down inside the bottom part and thrust a gnarled finger into her, while jabbing at the crack of her ass with his hard cock. But it was no part of her plan to completely surrender her maidenhood to him. At the last possible moment, she had spun out of his grasp, called him a nasty, old son of a bitch, and had run into the house, laughing derisively.
After that it became a contest between them, one in which the rules were firmly established. She would not squeal on him for trying to rape her and he would keep her secret that she revealed her body to him, teasing and tormenting him without mercy. It was also understood that he would be entitled to take her without reprisal if she ever foolishly placed herself in a position where he could get his hands on her again, a thing she had no intention of doing, although she sometimes walked through the back yard at night, or when her parents were not at home, depending only on wariness and fleetness of foot to save her from assult. It was a game she enjoyed, one that broke the monotony of life in what she considered an otherwise very dull, small town.
Lil was a virgin, a rather remarkable accomplishment in a day and age when a virgin has been aptly described as a six-year-old girl who can outrun her nine-year-old brother. Although she was a virgin by choice, it was not through any lack of sexual desire on her part, and certainly not because she was less than desirable in the eyes of the men and boys of the town. She was a virgin because virginity happened to fit into the over-ail plan of life devised by her greedy, scheming, little mind. She conceived of her maidenhead as a commodity, obviously very much in demand. If it were that valuable, she meant to make the most of it. She would retain it at all costs until such time as she received a bid high enough to compensate for its loss.
In the meanwhile, there was always masturbation and the daring game of teasing old Nils Rundy.
Lil cupped her breasts, then let one hand drift down to her crotch. She stood straddle legged and deliberately spread the lips of her vulva, hoping the old man's eyesight was good enough so that he could see the pink, rawlooking flesh within. With the tip of her index finger, she stirred her clitoris, rotating her hips suggestively as she did so. She was rewarded by seeing Nils push his face closer to the window of the trailer and lick his lips with a tongue that was blue-veined on the underside. She giggled.
He stood up then, taking the chance that he might be seen from the lower floor of the house, and presented her with a better view of his cock. It was long and large of girth. From the purplishly tinged head dripped a white, viscous fluid as his hand agitated the shaft of it.
The sight of that naked member deprived Lil of some of her sadistic amusement, replacing it with an excitement that caused her finger to move more rapidly and her eyes to gleam with lust and desire. Not for the first time, the thought came to her, accompanied by a sharp thrill of fear and doubt, that the day might come when she would lose her present advantage in the game. She wondered if the time would come when she would be so overcome with passion that she would say to hell with it and run downstairs to Nils' trailer with only one thing in her mind ... to get herself impaled on that long, hard, delicious cock.
"That'll be the day, you shitty, old fucker," she said without malice. Then, to show her contempt, she turned around, bent over, and spread the cheeks of her buttocks with both hands so that the round, brown button of her anus winked at him derisively. She looked over her shoulder in time to see him having an orgasm, the semen squirting from his cock as he came, his load shooting onto the window of the trailer.
She laughed triumphantly, made the childish gesture of thumbing her nose at him and went to bed. Stretching out on the bedspread, she attended to the serious business of masturbation. She was an adept at the art of selfgratification, having devised numerous methods of achieving an orgasm, but now she resorted to none of those refinements. She was already too far gone in passion to need exotic means of exciting herself. The sight of the gray-white, sticky stuff shooting from the head of Rundy's cock, to run slowly down the glass of the window, had been enough to drive her nearly out of her mind with lust. She rotated her clitoris frantically while tipping one of her breasts up and bending her head to suck at her own nipple, imagining in her erotic and sex-driven fantasy, that those were other lips and teeth on the rose-pink flesh, the lips and teeth of a man ... any man.
She was discharging freely now, her little cunt wet and slimy, the air of the room rank with the scent of her musk, her pretty legs and her body writhing from the self-inflicted torture of the pleasure she was giving herself. As her screaming nerves stretched ever tauter and thinner under the build-up of gathering lust, she drifted through that misty curtain that separates reality from the purgatory of passion where the mind is gripped in the riptide of mild insanity born of an excess of pure sensation. She let herself sink down through the hot waves of sheer delight that engulfed her and then the bubble burst from the terrible intensity of it. Slowly, reluctantly, the blown-apart bits of her personality coalesced. She lay supine on the bed, legs flung wide, her dripping cunt swollen and gasping like the pink mouth of a dying fish, her body still, but for an occasional, convulsive twitch.
"Lilith! Lilith, come down here. Phone call for you."
"Oh shit," Lil muttered, resenting the intrusion of the world and its demands upon her hard-earned and delicious languor. She rolled off the bed and stood up, donning a blue housecoat, the filmy material of which accented, rather than hid, her nakedness. Sleepy-eyed and tousle-headed, she went down the stairs.
"It's Mr. Fletcher, your school principal," her mother told her. "I can't imagine why he's calling you during the summer vacation. Lilith, dear, you shouldn't run around like that ... practically nude. You know your father's home today."
Big deal! What's the matter, old dry thighs and baggy tits. Afraid of a little competition? Well, you should be. I've seen the way he looks at me lately. I'll take him away from you someday ... when I happen to be in the mood.
Aloud, she said: "Oh, I'm really sorry, Mother. I was taking a nap when you called me and I just didn't think." She became an innocent child of twelve. "I don't know why Mr. Fletcher is calling me, either."
"Well," her mother replied, molified," never mind. You better not keep him waiting."
Lil nodded and went into the living room. "Yes?" she inquired into the phone. Her voice dropped to a low register. She managed to make that one word sound infintely seductive and sexy. Armond Fletcher was a gruesome, old character, but he was still a male. It wouldn't hurt to practice her technique on him.
"Lilith?" Fletcher was business-like. "Something has come up regarding your grades for this last semester. Nothing to worry about, just a slight irregularity that I find necessary to discuss with you in person. Could you drop by my house for a minute this evening?"
"Oh, of course, Mr. Fletcher," Lil responded brightly. "Would seven be all right?"
"Fine. Fine. I'll see you then."
"Now, what is that sneaky bastard up to?" Lil murmured as she hung up the phone. She knew that her grades were exactly as they had always been, perfect. When she cheated on exams, she copied only from the smartest boys in the school. No, she reasoned, it had to be something else, otherwise he would have discussed it over the phone. Armond Fletcher's status as an adult, automatically placed him in the camp of the enemy and, as a teacher, he was to be especially hated. But she didn't fear him. Lil feared no one. His armor plate and weaponry of cold efficiency daunted her not in the least. To her, he was just another middleaged man, balding slightly and with a bit of a paunch.
Delia Nordstrom nodded absently, noting with approval that Lil was on her way back up to her room, presumably to change into something less revealing. Delia was thankful that her husband had been busy in the garage while Lil was on the phone. She, too, was aware that John Nordstrom had developed more than a fatherly interest in their daughter.
"I can't really blame him," she admitted to herself. "That hot-assed, little piece of baggage would turn on an iron statue. Who the hell does she think she's kidding with that sweet kid act of hers? Probably upstairs jacking-off when I called her. I could smell it on her and her fingers were still wet. I'll have to watch her around John. I wonder if she's getting fucked much by the boys she dates?"
Delia was neither as old, as dry-thighed, nor as baggy-titted, as Lil thought. At thirty-two, she was still a remarkably attractive woman, a real swinger at cocktail parties. She was also a swinger in a man's bedroom ... almost any man. She thought of herself as hep and modern. Her eager acceptance of the "new morality", however, did not extend to permissiveness regarding incest.
After dinner, Lil walked the three blocks to the residence of Armond Fletcher. The tight, pink sweater and the short skirt she wore were a compromise, being neither as sexy nor as revealing as she would have prefered, nor as modest as her mother might have wished. She wondered if Mrs. Fletcher would offer her tea, and gush over her. She hated tea.
"Come in, my dear," Armond said to her at the door. Again she wondered what it was all about. He was, for her, a new Fletcher. Sans business suit and glasses, he looked quite different. He wore a quilted, smoking jacket and was actually smiling. She had never seen him smile. The matronly Mrs. Fletcher was not in evidence and Lil sighed with relief. No tea.
"My wife is on an extended visit with relatives in Florida," Armond explained as he led her into the living room, "so please forgive any lack of the social graces. I'm afraid I'm not very good at that sort of thing. Be seated, Lilith, I have something to show you."
As she sank into an upholstered chair by the fireplace, carefully crossing her legs to show as much thigh as possible without making the gesture too obviously deliberate, he picked an envelope from an end table and turned to face her. There was something in his manner, grave, yet subtly threatening, that caused Lil to tense. He smiled again, but it was a thin smile, humorless and vaguely triumphant.
"As you know," he said evenly, "my brother, Bob Fletcher, was recently killed in an accident. He was an excellent, professional photographer. In going through his things, I found these pictures, which will, I'm sure, be of considerable interest to you. They may also come as somewhat of a shock. But perhaps not. I'm a shrewd judge of character, Lil, and, I frankly doubt if much of anything could shock you."
"Why, Mr. Fletcher! I ... I ... I don't know what you mean."
He laughed unpleasantly. "The hell you don't. You can cut out the little-girl act. You do it well, and I'm sure it fools most people, but not an old campaigner like me. Here, take a look." He tossed the envelope onto her lap.
Lil bowed her head as her fingers busied themselves with the flap of the envelope. How, she wondered, had she ever made the mistake of underestimating this man? Her respect for him was soaring. A dozen photos, some in black and white, and some in color, spilled into her hands. The first one she selected was an interior, a flash shot. There was a couch. On the couch were two very nude people. They were engaged in the sex act, their faces as clearly visible as their genitals. One of them was Bill Devlin, ,the father of Mark Devlin, one of her schoolmates. His partner in the act of sexual intercourse was Delia Nordstrom, Lilith's mother!
The next picture she happened to select was one of her own father. He was sitting on the same couch. Kneeling between his open legs was a local woman named Susan Prine. She had John Nordstrom's big cock in her mouth. Lil's mother was leaning over the back of the couch, her breasts elongated and pendulous because of her position, her face registering a deep pleasure that was apparently being derived partly from watching her husband being sucked off and partly from her enjoyment of the man, another of their neighbors, standing behind her with his hands on her hips. Although it did not show in the photograph, Lil thought it reasonable to assume that this man had his cock in her mother right up to his balls.
Despite Armond's prediction, Lil's initial reaction had been one of shock. But it hadn't lasted long. So her parents were swappers. Interesting. But how had the deceased Bob Fletcher obtained these pictures? More to the point, what was his brother's purpose in now, showing them to her? Her mind raced, but came up with no answers. Okay, she'd play it by ear.
"Nice photography," she said drily, returning the pictures to the envelope and handing it to Armond.
He grinned wolfishly. "I thought you'd appreciate them. Bob was apparently a member of this group and I suppose they encouraged him to take the pictures. It obviously didn't occur to them that he would be so indiscreet as to retain copies and then get himself killed. But he did. Now you are wondering, of course, why I have shown them to you. I do not believe in euphemisms, my dear. The term is blackmail. Can you imagine what a mess this would be for you and your family if I saw to it that these were circulated among the good folk of our town?"
Lil felt the tension drain from her. She almost smiled in relief. So that was it? The silly, old fool! What in hell did she have that he could possibly want? Then she saw the way his attention was concentrated on her exposed, upper legs and, glancing at the stiffly protruding front of his trousers, she knew exactly what it was he wanted from her. Why, the goddamned, old fart! Was he dumb enough to think she'd stupidly sacrifice herself for the sake of her parents? Shit on them. They'd had heir fun and now let them pay for it. But wait a minute. Maybe there was something in this for Lil. Think, girl. How can you turn this to your advantage? She thought she saw a way. Yes, she was sure of it. "And what do you want from me?" she asked him. She knew, but she was going to make him say it.
Armond licked his lips. In the light from the reading lamp behind her, he looked all of his fifty years. His sallow face was -lined and puffy and his teeth were slightly yellow.
"I want to fuck you," he said bluntly. "I want to take all of your clothes off and toy with you at my leisure, to touch you and feel of you and to kiss and bite you wherever I please. I want to get on you and put my cock in you. I hope you're a virgin, although I doubt it. I want to make you bleed. You're only fourteen. I wish you were even younger. I like young girls. Give yourself to me, let me do as I wish with you, and you may have the pictures."
That was when it hit her. She had already made up her mind to give in to him, but she planned to do it with calculating coldness, providing him with as little pleasure as possible, but his talk of stripping her, and his detailed description of all he would do to her body, got to her. She felt a growing heat generating in her loins, and the urge to squirm her hips. She was going to get it! At long last, she was going to be fucked! He wasn't nice or handsome, and she hated his rotten guts, but what difference did that make? He was a man and he had a cock, didn't he? She knew he would be ruthless and brutal with her and that thought sent an added thrill through her. Better this than some pretty, but awkward, half-frightened schoolboy in the back seat of a car parked in Lover's Lane. Oh, she'd take him all right. The hot-pantsed, old fool was about to have the tables turned on him, and was too jerky to realize it. Man! What they could do to him for screwing a fourteen-year-old virgin! But that would come later ... after she'd figured out how to use it to her greatest advantage. Right now, though, she was going to get fucked and she intended to enjoy it.
"Okay," she said. "Only, I want the negatives as well as the prints. You're due for a surprise, you dirty, old man. I am a virgin."
"Yes, yes, I'll give you the negatives," he promised eagerly. "Now I'm going to have you. I've watched you grow up and I've wanted you since you were ten." He was trembling in his urgency, his mouth twitching obscenely as he made a grab for her wrist and pulled her out of the chair.
Lil made no attempt to fight him as he pulled her roughly to him, forcing his lips down hard on hers. She endured the kiss, but didn't like it, impatient for the big moment yet to come.
"Maybe I'd better call home and tell my mother I've decided to stay downtown and go to a show," she suggested.
"Smart girl," he agreed, breathing hard.