Chapter 2
"Sparrow" Brewster attempted to soothe, his tone embarrassed, somehow mocking, "little Sparrow. Cool it, baby. What's the sweat? You wanted to know, now you found out. It wasn't that bad, was it? Cool, cool, kid."
"It was wrong," she gasped. "I shouldn't have. I went all crazy inside. I simply didn't know what I was doing."
"That's the mood, baby. That's the way it's supposed to run. People get carried away, that's natural.
Can you imagine sex when you bad control, when you had your cool? That would be the dullest scene in the world."
"What's the matter with her?" Arnie Caves called from across the room. "You hurt her?"
"Sure I hurt her," Gil snapped. "Don't I always? She's just having a bad case of conscience, that's all. It'll pass." He regarded Dawn sarcastically. "Did you know your girl friend was cherry?"
"She never told me," Dawn replied, her dark features perplexed. "She always made out like she'd had guys before."
"How about you?" Gil regarded Arnie. "You get a cherry too?"
"Hardly," Caves snorted. "This doll's 'been had. She swings. You wanna sample?"
"In a while. Soon's I get Little Merry Sunshine calmed down here. Quite a kid, this Sparrow. Cute huh? I'm gonna call her that from now on." He pulled away from Vesper, snickered as he saw how she scrambled to curl herself in a ball, conceal her nakedness. He reached for his trousers, produced a handkerchief. "Here, baby, let's dry up those water works. No need, no need at all."
He turned, looked down on the dark-haired voluptuously endowed Dawn where she lay in slack weariness, her dusky face somehow wan, her naked belly rising and falling slowly, one hand languidly trailing to the floor. His smile became more contemptuous. "How was she, Arnie?"
"Prime, Gil," Caves chuckled, "She knows how to move the stuff. And yours?"
"She's got a ways to go yet. But she was mint. You don't run onto those every day. And a tiger ... Wow! She may not know how, but she sure knows when. You wanna some?"
"Not yet. Give me time to catch my breath." He snickered. "Among other things." He rose, started for the kitchen. "Anybody for a drink?"
"No, thanks. I'm good. Any more'n I won't be able to put little Dawn there through her paces." Gil sat on the end of the chaise, made no attempt to conceal himself whatsoever, he leered at Dawn, appreciated the way her eyes frankly fled across his body. "Brother, things came on kind of fast there, didn't they? Everything ganged up on us all of a sudden. Surprise every minute."
His leer widened. "How about it, Dawn? You ready for seconds? Or is it thirds? You an' Arnie got off to a flying start there, didn't you?"
Dawn stared at him self-consciously. "Do I ... must I ... with you?"
"You bet your sweet bottom, with me. I broke in the virgin here, now maybe once for fun." He reached behind him, grabbed Vesper's ankle, began to stroke her leg. "You over your crying jag yet, baby? You about ready for another go? I got a real champ lined up for you. Bet you never thought you'd end up with two guys, did you?"
Vesper sucked in her breath audibly, pulled her leg away from him as the impact of his words fully registered. "No, Gil!" she wailed. "Not Arnie. Not me with Arnie. I couldn't ... I just couldn't. Please, you won't...."
"Knock off the baby act, Sparrow," he growled. A little of that goes a long way. You weren't so blubbery a minute ago. You couldn't get enough as I recall. If Arnie's interested, you'll be interested."
"Please, Gil," Vesper pleaded, more and more emerging from her alcoholic trance, more and more realizing just what corrupt act she'd so recently committed, dismayed revulsion crushing her, "don't make me, don't make us...."
Make?" he mocked. "I ain't gonna make Dawn here do anything. She's hot to trot. Ain't so, Dawn? You ain't been able to take your eyes off me since we came up for air, have you? You wanna try that, don't you?"
Dawn didn't answer. But, the more experienced, the more adventuresome of the two girls, she didn't need to. Her eyes, the feral grimace on her face was answer enough.
"We have to go," Vesper continued to wail, "it's midnight already. My mom'll kill me if I don't get home by one."
"Make up a story, baby. Tell her you had a flat tire or something. You go when I say so, understand? When Arnie'n me get our fill, and not one minute sooner."
The mood in the room suddenly changed, a new terror was abroad, both girls (Vesper especially) knew they were in bad trouble, they realized they'd stumbled upon a psychopath, they'd foolishly walked into a vicious trap.
"What...." Dawn ventured, coming up from her fearful daze, "are you going to do with us? You won't hurt us ... kill us? You won't get away with it, the police'll...."
"The police'll spit. We ain't gonna hurt you, pretty, little girls. We like little girls like you. Ain't that so, Arnie?"
"You know it, Gil," Caves called from the kitchen. "Just so long's you do what we say," Gil continued, "don't rub our fur the wrong way ... nobody gets hurt. We're gonna be the best of friends. We're gonna have some wonderful times together. Ain't so, Sparrow?" He turned, grasped one ankle, pulled her toward him. He rumpled that rose-gold delta of her body.
"Don't...." she fought him, "oh, please ... I wanna go home, I wanna get out of here. Dawn...."
Brewster twisted Vesper's ankle cruelly. "I told you to knock it off, kid. Unless you want big trouble. You want some lumps. Sparrow?"
"Please ... you're hurting me. Stop, oh, please. Don't call me that. My name's Vesper, not...."
"Your name's what I saw it is! And if I wanna call you Sparrow ... my little, red-hot Sparrow...." He reached for her, viciously dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her thigh, made her scream. "Want more?" he growled.
"Lay off, Gil," Arnie said, returning from the kitchen with a small pitcher of Manhattans. He smirked. "Don't bruise the merchandise. At least not until I've had my ups."
"Lay off, hell," GO snarled. "Gotta break these kids in right. If they're gonna be any good to us at all. Ya gotta put the fear of God into 'em right from the start."
"Well, cool it, Gil. Later'll be just as good. After I've...."
Dawn's face was even more white now. "What ... what do you mean? Just what are you going to do with us?"
Gil rose, went to stand over Dawn, he stared down at her, a piggish smile on his features. "Do? What d'ya think we're gonna do with you? Put ya to work, that's what we're gonna do." He grabbed one of her legs, raised it, raised it toward him, appraised her coldly, ended up by ruffling her belly with his other hand. "This kind of work."
He sat beside Dawn on the davenport, idly flopped her ample breasts, clucked at her rigidity and growing discomfiture. "I'll bet you really throw a mean one if you set your mind to it." His hand became more vulgar. "What's your name? Your whole name?"
"Dawn," she stammered. "Dawn Logan."
"And where do you live, Dawn Logan?"
"On Murchison Street."
"Kind of a cheesy neighborhood, ain't it? Where on Murchison?"
"Twenty-two hundred north."
"That is bottom-of-the-barrel stuff. And you're in a hurry to get back there?"
"Our parents'll kill us if we don't get back. They'll get the cops after us if we don't come home...."
"Who said anything about your not coming home?" he leered. "You'll get home all right. But not right away." He beckoned to Arnie. "Give Dawn here a little drink. She's runnin' outta steam. Touch Sparrow up too. She's looking a bit peaked."
"No more for her," Arnie said. "Any more and she'll be sick."
"Suit yourself. But Dawn here, she wants more." He moved his face close to hers. "Ain't so, baby?"
"Yes," she hurried. "I'll have some more."
She barely replenished her drink when Gil pulled her to her feet, led her toward what she assumed must be a bedroom. He came close behind Dawn, jammed his belly to her buttocks, held her, his resurgent manhood causing her to start and squeal. "Be careful with that!"
"No...." Vesper began to protest, shying away from Arnie as he sat on the chaise, "oh please, not again. He hurt me, he hurt me something awful. I ache all over. I can't ... again ... I just can't...."
Arnie, a squat, stocky specimen, a blonde, crew-cut male of 21, leered lewdly at her protest, took a long drag on his drink, put the glass aside. Now he cornered the pretty child, he made her wince as he dug his hand into her left breast, pinned her in place. "You never know just what you can do until you try, dolly. And we're gonna try. You're gonna like me, Sparrow. I ain't half as rough as Gil. He comes on like a runaway freight. I got more style."
He chuckled anew, clambered over Vesper, his own virility now regenerated, the mere thought of violating the fair-skinned girl affecting same. "Sparrow," he teased, "real cute. I'm gonna like that." His hands wrenched her legs apart viciously. "You got nothing to be scared of. Here we go, Sparrow. I got just the perch for you...."
Then he was upon her, his knee jamming her legs, dropping his full weight upon her slight frame like some avenging animal. He laughed fiendishly as Vesper screamed at the abrading pain his brutish penetration triggered. "Please, please...." she sobbed. "No more, I can't stand any more. You're hurting me, you're hurting me something awful!"
But Arnie paid not the slightest heed. Engrossed in exercising his own droit du seigneur over Vesper, he wanted his. Enthralled by the close constriction of this near virginal body, the child's whimpers only added that much more spice to the act.
As Arnie thrust and ground at her, Vesper recoiled, cringed inwardly at the pain. She was struck by a contradictory thought. But hadn't she been thrilled, been driven out of her mind with ecstasy only minutes before? How could such be? The act was repulsive, degrading now, a thing merely to be borne as best as she could. How can such changes be? How can a world be turned upside down in a matter of minutes? Then turned upside down still another time?
"Oh, baby," Arnie gloated as his body slammed to hers with brutal cadence, "you are special! I ain't had one like you in a month of Sundays. Hang on, Sparrow, hang on. Here we go, here we...."
The words trailed into a piggish squeal, into a cacophony of curses and groans. "You mink! You ever-lovin'-mink! You nearly tore me out by the roots."
He hovered over her for long moments afterward, his weight suffocating, his breathing harsh and rapid in her ears. "Dolly, dolly," he grated when he finally rolled off her, the suddenness of his move making her hiss, "we are going to have some wonderful times together. I'm never going to get tired of that cozy apartment of yours."
"Please," she whined, tried to pull away, "I've got to go home. I'll catch all kinds of hell if I don't get there soon. I'll go away, I'll never tell anyone what you guys did to me. I swear I won't fink. Just let me go, that's all I ask."
Arnie rose on one elbow, stared at Vesper mockingly. "We'll let you go, honey. Both of you. When we're ready. But before you leave...."
"Yes?"
"We've gotta have a little talk. Certain things gotta be understood."
The cruelty in his eyes, the coldness in his tone, made Vesper quail anew, she was suddenly shuddering all over.
They let Vesper and Dawn get dressed after this last formalization, they let them go into the bathroom to get cleaned up, to redo their faces. Which, in light of what was about to happen next, was so much wasted motion.
By then it was I:00 a.m., Vesper and Dawn were already overdue at home. And with a ten-block walk through some of Doncastle's most scabrous, dangerous slums still ahead of them, the prospect was not a happy one.
When the girls were dressed, the effects of the cocktails sufficiently worn away, the opportunistic, cruel men herded the two girls into the living room, seated them on the plush davenport.
"You're comin' back here tomorrow night, you know," Gil began, his smile oily. "Tonight, I mean. I forget the new day's already begun." He snickered. "How time does get away from a person. Especially when he's doin' something he enjoys."
"No...." Dawn wailed. "Come back here? But why? You can't make...."
The dark threat in Gil Brewster's eyes stilled her in mid-sentence. "Their bags," Gil snapped. Instantly Arnie wrenched Vesper's clutch purse from her, scooped up Dawn's more bulky bag from the floor. Right away he dug inside, emerged with the girls' wallets. Gil had produced a pencil and paper by then.
Brewster took the wallets, searched them for identification. Finding same, he began scribbling their names onto the paper, he doubled-checked addresses, wrote them "as well as phone numbers" down also. "You must live real close to each other, girls," he said. "Real handy, I say."
Gil smirked. "Just making sure, kiddies. You might have been connin' me. I gotta know where you live. Just in case you try to split on me. We'll come lookin' for you if you do. What we do to you won't be very nice. Not nice at all."
He paused, let his eyes sweep from one girl to the other, his stare malevolent, piercing. Then the words were barked out, their threat pinning them both in place. "Show 'em what I mean, Arnie!"
With that Arnie turned on Dawn, dug his stubby fingers into her hair, twisted it violently, forced her head back. With his free hand he slapped her across the face a half dozen times, each crack whipping her head back, causing Dawn to scream with blind fury and pain. Instantly she began to sob hysterically, a thin trail of blood ran down from her hose.
"Don't, Arnie!" she pleaded. "No, no ... No more! For God's sake, no more!"
But the brute didn't listen. His face drawn into an animal snarl, he pulled her to her feet by her hair, stood her at arm's length, punched her in the right breast, taking some steam off the punch at the last minute. Dawn sobbed, screamed, gagged all at the same time, she hung by her hair as her knees collapsed beneath her.
Then Arnie let her go. She fell like a bag of meal, sobbed and coughed, she groveled on the floor like some wounded animal, the pain inflicted nearly driving her out of her mind.
Vesper stifled a terrified howl, tried to evade Arnie's grasp. "No!" she begged, "don't hurt me, don't hit me. I'll do anything you say, only don't Her cry ended in a gargled scream as Gil blocked her, dug his right hand into her left breast, closed the finger like steel talons, nearly tore the globe off.
"Don't run, Sparrow," he seethed. "Take your medicine, just like Dawn. You gotta have a lesson too. So you'll see we mean business." He flung her contemptuously toward Arnie. "Take your medicine, you little slut!"
Arnie administered an almost identical beating to Vesper. He coiled his fingers in her long, coppery hair, he nearly tore her scalp off. The explosions sounded in her head for what seemed an eternity, her brain was glazed with sheet lightning. The pain was horrendous, unbelievable, her helpless outrage intensified it a hundredfold. She wanted to die, she felt she would actually have at the clawing agony that invaded her body.
Then when he punched her in the breast when he kept her dangling at arm's length like some broken puppet if Vesper had felt defiled before-
It was nothing to the shame, the meanness that filled her now. She wanted to die.
Finally she dropped, lay writhing beside Dawn, she emitted great, hawking sobs, sobs that threatened to bring the very lining of her throat up with them. She actually dug her nails into that carpeting in order to endure the excruciating pain. And still the land mines kept detonating inside her head, those flashes of blinding, bluish-white light kept searing the screen of her mind.
"You get the message, piggies?" Gil's taunting voice carried from some Olympian height. "You want some more of that? Or was once enough?"
"What ... what do you want from us?" Dawn finally choked up the words?
"That's for me to know, you to find out, baby,"
Gil said. "What I want is for the both of you to show tomorrow night. Eight bells, understand? You know how to find this place, huh? Arnie and I'll be waiting for you."
"You rat on us," Arnie interjected, "you bring the police, you'll be sorry the longest day you live. They can't keep us in jail forever. And when we do get out, we'll come looking for you two twerps, we'll gut you out like some animal. We'll make you die by inches. What we just gave you will seem like heaven by comparison...."
"Do we make ourselves clear?" Brewster took over.
"Yes, yes," Vesper sobbed brokenly, the pain subsiding enough so that she could form coherent thought, bring up words. "We'll be here, I swear. We won't tell the police, we won't tell anybody." Her voice shattered again, she bobbed her head against the floor. "Only don't hurt us any more, don't...."
"Why do you want us here?" Dawn persisted. "What are you gonna do to us?"
Gil nudged her menacingly with his foot. "In due time, Dawn. But for now, just say we dig your bedroom style. That reason enough?"
Dawn stared at him stolidly, her face fearful, yet etched with hatred at the same time. Arnie began dragging her feet.
"Get cleaned up," Gil rasped. "You look like you been in a fight. Tell your ma that. Then get the hell out of here. We gotta get some sleep."
Less than ten minutes later, their faces somewhat repaired, but still lobster-red where Arnie had slapped them constantly, they finally let themselves out of the apartment.
Their legs wobbly, their breasts (as well as other parts of their anatomy) throbbing, feeling like they were on fire, they groped down those gloom-shrouded flight of stairs.
Then they were out in the mild, May night, they were clattering about noisily down that subterranean alley.
When they hit the street they began to run as fast as they were able.
They ran like every hound in hell had been turned loose and was yapping at their heels.