Chapter 10

"She's perfect," Albert was saying. "Hell! She's a one-woman whorehouse all by herself. You can't just stick her in with the other broads. She's too valuable. We gotta use her for the guys willing t'pay a hundred bucks or more, and that much by the hour. Christ! What a cunt she has. I ain't never felt a cunt squeeze my cock so tightly."

"What are you talking about?" Debbie asked, sitting up.

Getting to her feet, she staggered to the sofa, and sat. She noticed the other five were smiling broadly at her.

"We're talking about you," Larry Haroldson explained. "We have a job for you. A good job."

"I don't want a job," she told them. "I don't need one."

"The whole trouble is," Haroldson explained, "we need you. We need that valuable cunt, invaluable asshole, and priceless mouth of yours."

"I'm getting out of here," Debbie snapped. "I don't need to have anything to do with you people."

"Wrong!" Ed told her pushing her back on the couch. "We run a string of bordellos throughout the South. We're always looking for some good ass with which to stock the places. I mean, most girls there don't last long. Too much consistent fucking seems to make them grow old ahead of time. But I figure you got ten to fifteen good years in you."

"But I won't work for you," Debbie insisted.

"Kid," Walter told her. "You don't got no choice. See that crate over there?" he asked, pointing to a wooden crate in the corner. "We're gonna stuff you in there and ship you out to New Orleans. And you're gonna work for us as long as we can use you."

"What kind of monsters are you?" Debbie asked, feeling panicky.

"We're not so bad," Walter told her. "You do as you're told, and in the next ten to fifteen years, you might earn enough dough with which to retire gracefully. I mean, you'll be able to afford to pay young boys t'do t'you what men are gonna pay you for. Actually we'll get the money, and we'll give you a fair share of it."

"No!" Debbie screamed. "Let me out of here."

"Ruth, use the needle," Walter said.

Debbie saw Ruth take a hypodermic she'd been holding behind her back and approach Debbie.

"Relax," she said in her soothing voice, attempting to lull Debbie off-guard. "This won't hurt. Wait and see. And you'll love your work. I can predict that right now. You'll really love your work."

But before anyone could do or say anything, the door of the cabin was smashed in, and four men, all with pistols, walked in. They were followed by Maurice Merlon.

"Still up to your games, eh Haroldson," he said, "This time you made a bad choice. You picked on my ward."

"But I didn't know ... " Haroldson began.

"You never seem to know or care," Merlon snapped. "This time you won't get away with it. My ward will not only testify as to your intentions, but each of my men here, who have been following Deborah quietly, at a discreet distance, will testify as to what you intended doing."

"What's all this about?" Debbie asked as her uncle threw her clothes to her.

But Merlon said nothing until the other five were bundled off by his private bodyguard. Then he drove Debbie home.

"You must hate me," she muttered as he went with her to her rooms.

"Why should I hate you?" he asked.

"Doing what I did."

"Debbie, my love, you have to discover the cruel world for yourself. Yes, when I'm home I expect you will grant my every whim, but when I'm not around, I have no right to demand absolute chastity of you. Not yet, at any rate."

"Who were those people?"

"White slavers. They steal girls from every part of the country and put them to work in whore houses throughout the world, reaping most of the money the girls earn."

"They would have done that to me?"

"Yes."

"And after the way I told you I hated you, you still came and rescued me?"

"I've had someone watching you every moment of every day, Debbie. You're much too young, trusting and inexperienced in the ways of the world to be on your own. I didn't buy you from your parents to serve you on a platter to those bastards."

"You know them, I see."

"Everyone around here knows them. But no one's ever been able to prove anything against them."

"I thought he was a CPA."

"Haroldson? He is, and a good one. But he's also a whoremaster. And now he's being put away once and for all, along with his four friends."

"Will there always be someone of yours watching me?" Debbie asked.

"When there comes a time that you're able to take care of yourself, no one will look after you."

"I see," Debbie nodded.

"Now I think you've had an exhausting evening, so I'll leave you alone."

He walked out slowly, shutting the door behind him. Debbie stared at the closed door, then, as if suddenly making up her mind, she turned, went to the bathroom, filler her tub, and let her body soak in it for a good half hour. She drained ail the sperm from the three men who had entered her cunt, and the one man who had entered her ass, out of her. She even douched both holes to make sure nothing remained.

Getting out of the tub, she dried herself off, then with absolutely nothing on, she opened her bedroom door, walked down the lengthy corridor, and approached her uncle's room. She knocked and waited for him to ask her in. A voice told her to enter.

Opening the door, she saw her uncle, sitting in a chair across the room. He was studying some business reports though he had changed to a dressing gown. When he saw her, he simply sat there and stared at her, silently.

Debbie entered the room, shutting the door behind her. She walked over to him and said, "I've had a chance to do a bit of thinking. It's funny, but I think I'm falling in love with you, Uncle Maurice. One can't help but love a person who loves her. But the love I feel for you is more than a reflection of your love for me. I've first come to realize how wonderful you really are."

"Thank you," was all he could say.

"I don't know if you want me anymore, after you saw what happened tonight. But if you do, you don't have to marry me. I'm willing to be your slave for the rest of my life. I don't need a lifetime income or anything else. Just let me do whatever it is I can do to make you happy."

"You love me that much?" he asked.

"Just let me prove it to you, Uncle Maurice. Please?"

"It's going to take a long time for you to prove it to me, Debbie," he told her, rising and removing his dressing gown.

He was still the same old fat man with the same paunch. But Debbie suddenly realized she loved that belly. It was part of a man she had come to adore.

"How long will it take?" she asked as they walked to his bed.

"All night, and all of tomorrow," he answered, kissing her.