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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
LABORS OF LOVE
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Chapter Eight
She felt safe and protected in his arms. Even though she shouldnÕt
have, she supposed, since she was kidnapped, according to the tabloids,
and he was the man who had taken her. They embraced behind the bait and
tackle shop. He was leaning back against the driverÕs side of the car and
she was standing on tip-toe, kissing him. The trees of the forest stood all
around them. A big river was nearby and theyÕd crossed over it. She could
hear the roar of it in the distance.
He ran his fingers through her hair. It was soft and lovely again,
after heÕd cum in it and sheÕd washed it, and now he felt himself harden in
his trousers and he wanted to cum all over her pretty little head again.
But even kissing, they had to be watchful. In the bait and tackle
shop there had been a pile of newspapers and one had her photo in it. ÒGirl
Disappears--Stranger Abduction Suspected!Ó the headline blared. She
stared out from the photo. It was her 6th grade photo and she looked
especially young, not the budding (if petite) woman he now held in her
arms.
ÒWhy did you have to miss your seventh grade class photo?Ó he asked
her. He hugged her and ran his hands along the curve of her waist. He
knew the satin skin that lay underneath her sweater and he longed to lift
her sweater, to tear it off her, and to suckle her young tits and kiss her
belly and to pump her full with his seed. Only the fact they were in public
prevented it. She kissed his nose.
ÒI was mad, although I told my mom I was sick,Ó she confided.
ÒBut now it looks like IÕve taken some little girl,Ó he protested.
ÒWell, I didnÕt know you at the time, dear,Ó she replied. ÒAnyways,
if it was my 7th grade photo it would be easier for people to identify me.Ó
ÒOh yeah,Ó he said. He kissed her lips. He eased her down off him.
ÒWhat do you say, Fritos Corn Chips for breakfast. Not bad, eh?Ó
ÒItÕs a start,Ó she replied. She seemed supremely happy despite
being in the newspaper and having only Fritos and a Coke for breakfast.
ÒI donÕt want you to break out with acne, though, youÕre going to
actually need more than sugar and junk food if youÕre going to have nice
big tits to nourish my children with.Ó
ÒTheyÕre growing pretty big as it is,Ó she said, looking down frankly
at her chest. ÒI didnÕt have any a year ago!Ó
He pulled a pair of sunglasses from the bag of stuff theyÕd bought in
the bait shop. He slid them onto her face. They were rather large for her
face but theyÕd been the smallest he could find. She looked like a little
sun-glassed Angel. He wondered if he were the Devil.
ÒWear these, okay? You should be less noticed in these.Ó Then he
pulled out a ball cap and put it on her head. ÒAlÕs Bait,Ó the hat said, in
big red letters across the front. Except the AlÕs was stitched in cursive,
while the word ÒBaitÓ was in big capital letters. He fitted the cap to her
and then she reached up and turned the hat around, so that the bill stuck
out behind her.
ÒI feel like a wanted woman,Ó she purred. She kissed him on his
chest. He was wearing a checked shirt that belonged to the man who
owned the cabin they were staying in. He would have worn the manÕs jeans
also but the seat was way too large for him. She wore a pink sweater
owned by the manÕs blonde 12-year-old daughter. And she wore a dress
that had belonged to the girl, a nice short one that showed off GingerÕs
lean coltish legs.
ÒGod, youÕre beautiful,Ó Chip said. He ran his fingers through her
long hair. SheÕd left it free for him, which was helpful, since she
definitely looked underage when she put it in pigtails.
ÒNow I donÕt recall a brother and sister ever kissing like that!Ó a
voice said.
Ginger froze. Chip felt a chill run down his spine. He turned his head
and saw the man who owned the Bait shop, Al himself, standing in the
doorway. The man was fat and bald and had looked so sleepily engaged in a
book on trains that neither of them had considered him much of a worry.
Of course, Chip reminded himself, heÕd promised himself that he and
Ginger wouldnÕt kiss in public, but it had just been one quick kiss, a kind
of congratulatory kiss between them that theyÕd gotten in and out of the
shop okay, and then it had turned to spontaneous kissing, without either of
them even realizing it until he finally eased her off him.
ÒWe... uh... havenÕt seen each other in a long time,Ó Chip said. And
then he realized it was quite useless to try to explain anything anymore,
because the man was eyeing Ginger with a suspicious look on his face.
Chip considered his surroundings. He was in the woods, with only a
small diner nearby, and a few homes up the road. HeÕd seen two cars
parked down by the river and heÕd seen some men sitting near them,
casting their lines into the river. HeÕd been taught in the Army how to
kill, and theyÕd instructed him how to do it behind enemy lines, and it had
been a Ôno questions askedÕ kind of thing.
ÒIf youÕre seen, kill them!Ó the instructor had boomed at him. The
man had been in ÔNam and heÕd boasted of killing men, women, and children.
Chip moved swiftly. He didnÕt even think. He grabbed the man and he
jerked his head hard and the next thing he knew the man was lying dead on
the ground with a broken neck.
ÒChip!Ó Ginger gasped.
ÒSorry,Ó Chip said to her. He gazed down at the man. He felt an
anger within himself dissipating. He turned to Ginger. ÒI never did that
before, honest!Ó he told her. Ginger was gasping. Her knees were bent and
she had both her hands clapped to her face over her mouth. He was glad
sheÕd turned the ball cap around, otherwise ÒAlÕs BaitÓ would have stared
out from above her gasping face, the letters big and bright and red.
ÒWe have a slight problem,Ó Chip mused, looking again at Al,
worthless in life but now worth something in death, at least when it came
to getting Chip a free ride on a gurney into a lethal injection chamber. He
half expected Ginger to say, ÒWhat do you mean we, White Man?Ó but
instead his little Tonto crept slowly over to him and finally grabbed his
thigh and wrapped both her arms around it.
ÒShit! SomeoneÕs coming!Ó Chip suddenly said. There was the sound
of a car approaching. He considered his options at the lightning speed that
only a 21-year-oldÕs mind possesses, and then only if itÕs honed in the
United States Army. Leaning down, he placed AlÕs hands over his stomach.
He adjusted the manÕs head so he looked, semi-plausibly, like he might be
sleeping. The ground was bare earth and it was unlikely a man would
simply lie down at mid-day, but Chip had no extra time to drag the body
away or give it any accessories, like a pillow or blanket.
ÒQuick! Inside!Ó Chip said. Ginger seemed to want to run to the car
but she was only 12 years old, not a soldier like he was. He grabbed her
and pulled her inside the small side doorway that Al had used to make his
final exit from the store.
ÒAfternoon!Ó a man said brightly, coming into the store. ÒGot any
bait?Ó
ÒJail or fish bait?Ó Chip asked swauvely, sitting idly behind the
counter, a book about trains in his hands.
ÒHa! Some joker. Hear about that girl who got kidnapped this
morning?Ó the man said. He browsed around, looking at the rack of Fritos,
the soda fountain.
ÒDamn if I havenÕt,Ó Chip replied. ÒBeen reading about trains. Perty
interesting, though IÕd not read anything about them before,Ó he added
hastily. Last thing he needed was to appear a fan of trains, and have the
visitor be some train spotting fanatic.
ÒDamn perverts! CanÕt control themselves, thatÕs what it is!Ó the
customer declared. ÒHowÕs Al doing today?Ó
Chip felt a deep ice-cold fear freeze his bowels.
ÒAlÕs, uh, out today,Ó Chip said. ÒGoinÕ fishinÕ?Ó
ÒWell, I only get up here once a year, so give him my regards, eh?
Got anything for Bass?Ó the man said.
Chip had never fished in his life and had no fucking idea what Bass
needed, or Trout, unless it was the little trout heÕd told to keep out of
sight in the back of the store.
ÒWell now what kind of Bass would you be wanting to fry?Ó he asked.
ÒI donÕt know, but I am hungry,Ó the man said.
Chip looked at the book on trains in his hands. An idea, that. If he
could learn to fish maybe he and Ginger could live in the woods forever,
and never visit any damn fucking stores again with old men who sat around
in them all day waiting to ask nosy questions.
ÒWell, Al just told me watch the place,Ó Chip replied. ÒPick out
what you want from the flies and stuff and IÕll ring it up for you. Ten
percent off today.Ó
ÒReally?Ó the man asked. His eyes brightened.
ÒNah,Ó Chip said. He realized heÕd made a mistake there. ÒJust
hoping youÕll hurry. This bookÕs damn interesting.Ó
ÒHey, I sure donÕt want to bother you,Ó the customer agreed. He
picked up the newspaper that had GingerÕs photograph in it. ÒIÕll just take
a paper, some Fritos, get me some soda and these lures look good here.
Fish are down in the river, as they say.Ó
The man placed some things on the counter and then went and filled
up a large cup of soda and then sipped it down some and then added more
soda and put on the plastic top.
ÒLetÕs see,Ó Chip mused over the items the man had selected. He had
no idea what they were actually supposed to cost. There were no prices on
any of them and nothing was posted in the store. ÒUm, 65 cents IÕd say for
the Fritos, and the paper, well, lemmee see, okay it says 50 cents for that,
and I guess the soda is a dollar,Ó Chip said. Then he realized he had no
idea how to ring up the cash register. He looked at the keys, guessed, hit
them in order, making the soda 75 cents, because heÕd forgotten he said
65, but the man didnÕt notice or didnÕt mind and Chip hit the Total key on
the register.
ÒYou forgot the lures,Ó the man said.
ÒOh yeah those,Ó Chip said. Now he was really in over his head. How
the fuck much were lures supposed to cost? $1.99? $5.99? He decided to
err on the side of cheapness and punched in $1.99 for all of them. This
was getting difficult, he realized.
Ò$10.49?!Ó the customer blurted.
ÒWell, uh,Ó Chip said.
ÒYou were kidding about ten percent off, eh? These two lures here
are more like 50 percent off!Ó
ÒI felt I was rude asking you to hurry,Ó Chip said with as serious a
look on his face as he could possibly muster. ÒIÕm sorry, and I wanted to
do right by you by halving the price.Ó
ÒWell, thanks!Ó the customer replied. He gave Chip the money and
Chip took it and put it in the register and bagged the manÕs lures for him,
and his paper and fritos.
ÒYou be rude to me more often, hear?Ó the man asked, heading for the
door, taking the paper from the bag and stuffing it under his arm.
ÒSure thing,Ó Chip smiled. And he felt very glad it had all worked,
for if it hadnÕt, he wouldnÕt have had to be rude to the man. He would have
had to kill him.
Chip listened as the car drove away.
Ginger crept out from her hiding place.
ÒIs he gone?Ó she asked.
ÒYeah, but weÕre goners, IÕm afraid,Ó Chip answered. He looked at
her. ÒI have no idea what to do now,Ó he said.
ÒLetÕs play store,Ó she said brightly. And she was quite serious, he
saw. ÒWe could live in the cabin and come down here every day and make
money selling people stuff.Ó
ÒAnd what about Al?Ó Chip asked.
ÒOh yeah,Ó Ginger said. Her eyes widened. ÒWell, Al can be on a
vacation!Ó
ÒJust like that?Ó Chip asked.
ÒYes, he went down the river,Ó Ginger said brightly. ÒAnd a fish ate
him.Ó
ÒYouÕll make a marvelous Miss Marple someday,Ó Chip told her. She
stared at him with her pink sweater and her pert breasts swelling up, her
hair free and her cheeks rosy. For a moment some devil deep within him,
some devil he didnÕt even know existed, perhaps some devil that had only
been awakened when he killed Al, told him to kill her and to run like Hell
and to never look back and to kill anyone he ever encountered. He could be
a killing machine, like the Army had briefly trained him to be, until they
thought better of it and transferred him to Supply, when the unit he was in
was downsized. And then, after that, the Army being what it was, theyÕd
transferred him to Morale and Welfare. HeÕd joined the Army to drive a
tank but heÕd found himself racking up cue balls for sergeants in the Rec
hall instead.
ÒOkay, look, weÕve got a problem,Ó Chip said. He led her out back to
AlÕs body and he stared at the body. She didnÕt like looking at it but he
made her look at it because he felt it was partly her fault that Al was
lying there, even though none of the feminists, or probably anyone else, for
that matter, would have agreed with him on that particular point. If
indeed anyone was agreeing with him at all anymore.
ÒAl, YOU are a problem,Ó Chip finally said, and pointed at him. He
hoped his levity would impress Ginger but it didnÕt. On the other hand, she
was still with him, and heÕd killed off the devil, at least for now, whoÕd
told him to do in her and everyone else he met in the world.
They sailed along under the trees. The leaves overhead were green
and their shadows passed over the windshield of his Camaro. The forest
was growing dark. TheyÕd put Al in a plastic bag and theyÕd dumped him
into the river from the middle of the bridge, hoping no one was looking.
Chip had raked away his tire tracks from the dirt and gravel of the parking
lot and then heÕd put his plan to work to blow up the bait shop. HeÕd hoped
to find some gasoline in the bait shop but then heÕd found an old electrical
generator too, and it occurred to him that someone like Al might just
accidentally let the generator and the gasoline get too close, and a spark
from the generator might blow the gasoline.
But Chip couldnÕt find a way to make the whole thing an accident and
finally, after being at the bait shop an hour, and scared to death heÕd be
seen by another customer, he put a ÒClosedÓ sign on the outside of the
shop and did his best to wipe down anything and everything inside the shop
he could have possibly touched. Then he and Ginger had walked from the
shop, she going first, he going after, stepping in her footprints to make
them bigger and to erase any sign of her presence. HeÕd already done his
best to get her footprints out of the parking lot and he hoped they were
free of the place forever. Hair samples might be found, but that would
only happen if people asked questions and someone showed up who wanted
to call AlÕs disappearance a murder and go looking for hair samples at that
level of detail.
ÒNow watch Al bobs up in the river tomorrow,Ó Chip said.
ÒWe put rocks in the bag. And heÕs fat, anyways,Ó Ginger chirped.
Her head was between his legs. She was nibbling on his penis. He was
painfully erect again, despite all theyÕd been through. She nuzzled his
crotch and he felt guilty, stealing her from her home, fucking her brains
out, then killing a man and now driving who knew where with her, the two
of them speculating on the morbid possiblities of a body dumped in the
river, Mafia style. At least the man had been dead when they put him into
the drink.
ÒOw!Ó Chip groaned. Ginger was chewing his penis now. Perhaps
their conversation was worrying her. Gently he reached down and eased
his fingers around her neck. He lifted her face up.
ÒMy penis is not a toy for your amusement,Ó he told her. ÒI do
actually use it for other things.Ó
ÒI know, peeing on me,Ó she said. She giggled and stroked his cock.
Chip wondered if heÕd ever peed on her. The thought excited him.
ÒJust for that IÕm going to, tonight, when we get someplace we can
stay,Ó he said.
ÒOooh, yuck,Ó Ginger replied. But she kept playing with his dick,
using her fingers to stroke and pet him, lying across the front seat of his
Camaro, not minding the stick shift that butted up against her belly.
ÒIÕm serious!Ó Chip said. He was delighted to have Al slipping
momentarily from his mind. ÒIÕm going to pee on you tonight. IÕm going to
wet all over you.Ó Ginger laughed and looked a little disturbed at the
prospect, but she kept teasing his cock with her fingers. They were
lovers. They might have all the world against them, they might have killed
an old fart who ran a bait and tackle shop, but they still loved each other
and it was their Time, their moment on the earth together. Nothing could
take that from them, not now, not yet.
The motel was better than Chip had expected. He had, after all, some
money now, thanks to dear old Al. He hoped when someone eventually
inquired into why Al had closed up his shop during the fishing season they
would check the register and declare it a robbery, not a murder. But Chip
knew eventually theyÕd declare it a murder, but it would take more time
after that for them to actually check under the middle of the bridge,
where theyÕd dumped Al, and Chip had put lots of little holes in AlÕs bag to
invite fish in to see him while he lay in his watery grave.
Al, killer of fish, now fed them at the bottom of the river. The bait
Al now provided had no hooks in it. Just a needle for Chip if he were ever
connected to Al.
Chip had been seen, of course, and that was an extreme problem, but
he hoped somehow the man whoÕd seen him wouldnÕt get caught up in the
thing. Chip stood in front of a mirror carefully shaving off his several
daysÕ growth of beard. He was wearing his own shirt again, and his own
pants. TheyÕd returned everything to the cabin where theyÕd stayed and
spent an hour there trying to erase all sign of their visit. The sheets had
been stained from their lovemaking and theyÕd changed them and taken the
used sheets with them, hoping their loss wasnÕt missed, replacing the
used sheets with new ones from a linen closet. TheyÕd put the bottle of KY
back in the bathroom cabinet and hoped the fact that it contained less
wasnÕt noticed. Of course, when the bathroom and sink taps were turned
on, the water would be suspiciously pure and clear and clean when it first
spilled out. But maybe the daughter or son would turn them on, while the
parents were busy unpacking their car, and not take note of the fact that
someone had cleared the taps.
With luck, it all just might work, but Chip prayed he didnÕt have to
kill anyone else. He vowed to get a haircut first thing in the morning. A
buzz cut, like heÕd had in the Army. Then the stranger whoÕd been in AlÕs
store would be a long-haired, unshaven suspect, while Chip himself was a
cleanshaven, crew cut, God-fearing man, with, albeit, a 12-year-old
girlfriend. Well, the customer hadnÕt seen her. Only Al had. And now Al
was fish bait.
ÒGive me your pants. I need to take them down the hall and wash
them,Ó Ginger told him. She was dressed in her schoolgirlÕs skirt and
blouse. She had no other clothes. Chip turned from the mirror and looked
at her. A man didnÕt like giving up his pants.
ÒWhat, are you going to take your clothes off too?Ó he asked.
ÒNo, silly.Ó She put out her hand expectantly. ÒYouÕre going to strip
and IÕm going to wash your clothes, and then IÕm going to strip and youÕre
going to wash my clothes!Ó She smiled at him. A Pumpkin smile, like Al
BundyÕs daughter gave her husband, bright, unknowing. Except in this case,
although Chip didnÕt like doing laundry and he hated taking off his only pair
of pants, her plan seemed to make some sense.
ÒCanÕt we just wear our same clothes Ôtil tommorrow?Ó he asked.
ÒWeÕre not going around in dirty clothes,Ó Ginger said. ÒI can wash
yours and you can wash mine. Simple.Ó She smiled again and waited, hand
outstretched.
ÒIÕm still going to pee on you later tonight,Ó he warned her.
ÒBoys will be boys,Ó she replied equanimitously. ÒYour pants,
darling.Ó
ÒI feel like IÕm fucking married!Ó Chip said angrily. He unzipped
himself and yanked down his trousers.
ÒMaybe you are,Ó Ginger said with sparkling, mischievous eyes.
ÒExcept I canÕt legally marry a 12-year-old, and so, naturally, I canÕt
divorce you either!Ó Chip said sourly.
ÒTut! Tut! You should have thought of that before you picked me up
at school,Ó Ginger replied. He handed her his pants. ÒUnderwear too,Ó she
said. ÒAnd your shirt.Ó
Chip lay on their bed buck naked. He looked at his dick standing up
like a fencepost between his legs. HeÕd wanted to fuck her the minute
theyÕd arrived, like a teenager, but she, perhaps growing up too fast now,
like a decorous wife, had insisted on other things, like laundry. He felt
cold. He wanted to get under the covers but sheÕd told him he had to
shower first if he did that. He was beginning to feel like her prisoner.
Here he was, in some motel room, naked, while she was down the hall
primly doing their laundry. He prayed to God no one took much notice of
the fact that she was wearing her schoolgirl clothes at 9 oÕclock at night.
And of course the motel manager wasnÕt aware of her, so that was a
problem too, for Chip had checked in asking for a single. God knows he
would have loved to pay the man for a double, since the bedroom did have
two beds in it, but then there would have been questions. The ÔsisterÕ
thing hadnÕt worked too well before. Chip didnÕt need any more dead Als on
his hands.
ÒIÕm back,Ó Ginger said. She slipped inside. He gazed at her. TheyÕd
only use one bed tonight, of that he was sure. ÒDonÕt worry, nobody saw
me,Ó she said. ÒAnyways theyÕd probably think I belonged in someone
elseÕs family.Ó
ÒLetÕs hope so,Ó Chip replied.
ÒThatÕs what IÕd say, you know,Ó she said. ÒIÕm with the family
down the hall.Ó She pointed, vaguely. She seemed to enjoy the conspiracy
of it all. ÒNot with the killer in room 109.Ó
ÒThanks,Ó Chip said. ÒI needed that.Ó
She stepped over to the bed. ÒYour penis looks like it needs to go to
the bathroom,Ó she said.
ÒNo, it just needs to fuck you,Ó Chip told her.
ÒWell, itÕll just have to wait. IÕm doing laundry right now,Ó she said.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and gently stroked him. His erection
looked huge against her small little fingers. The fingernail polish was
still half on, half-flaked. He wished sheÕd rub it off somehow or repaint
her nails. He felt like he was being handled by a little girl in elementary
school. But she was in 7th grade now, he reminded himself. Yes!
ÒWhy does it get so big and stiff all the time?Ó she asked.
ÒBecause you keep playing with it,Ó he scolded. Damn girl. He was
feeling hot in his balls now.
ÒBut it was hard when I came in!Ó she told him.
ÒYeah, well, it just stands up, thatÕs all,Ó he replied. He looked at
himself. ÒI have no idea why.Ó
ÒDid it ever occur to you that when you leave tomorrow, and the
manager finds a wet spot in the bed, heÕll think you spent the night jacking
off?Ó she asked.
ÒThanks,Ó Chip said. ÒFirst you call me a killer, now a masturbator.Ó
He grabbed her and rolled her on top of him. She shrieked and then,
quickly, she put her hand over her mouth and he put his hand over her
mouth. They laughed quietly together.
ÒYouÕre a big bad killer on the loose,Ó she told him.
ÒDonÕt provoke me,Ó he answered.
ÒNow how will people buy bait?Ó she asked him.
ÒMaybe theyÕll find it in some motel room,Ó he said. ÒDid you get rid
of that ball cap like I told you to?Ó
ÒYes, I threw it in the woods when you let me out to pee back there,
in the forest,Ó she said.
ÒGood,Ó he answered. ÒNow letÕs learn to pray, okay? God bless us
and may I never have to kill anyone ever again, including the operator of
this motel and everyone staying here tonight.Ó
ÒA big job, since youÕve got no gun,Ó she answered.
ÒYeah,Ó he said. And he lay there, on the bed, unarmed, with a little
12-year-old girl in his arms, still in her school girlÕs uniform, and
himself quite naked, with an annoying erection sticking up between her
bare legs.
She knelt dutifully in the shower. She was small and soft and heÕd
scrubbed her clean, and sheÕd washed him, and their clean clothes were
neatly folded on a chair by the bed. Her hair was brown and sheÕd tied it
up into twin pigtails with pink bows. SheÕd put on some of her Cotton
Candy Lipsmacker lipstick that she kept in her purse. Her ears had never
been pierced and he realized, as he stood over her, that one of his
responsiblities would be to hold her hand someday soon while she got
them pierced, for she was getting taller and more bosomy and she needed
to have her ears pierced if she was going to wear earrings.
He stood over her. His cock throbbed. Although theyÕd played and
scrubbed each other in the shower together theyÕd refrained from Ôdoing
it,Õ and now she knelt under him waiting for him to pee.
ÒYouÕre nasty,Ó she told him. She looked at him with serious wide
brown eyes, her eyes deep pools of pure innocence.
ÒI know,Ó he answred.
ÒBut IÕm all ready for BED!Ó she protested.
ÒYou can rinse off afterward,Ó he told her. ÒI wonÕt mind if thereÕs a
still a little pee on you when you climb into bed with me.Ó
ÒI will!Ó she declared.
ÒDonÕt scream too loudly when I piss on you,Ó he said.
ÒThen donÕt do it,Ó she replied. The tub had been wiped dry with a
towel. He wanted everything perfect. She knelt with her hands drawn
back, playing with her toes as she sat on her heels.
ÒIf you think youÕre going to scream IÕm going to have to gag you,Ó he
told her.
ÒThen do it, because IÕll scream otherwise,Ó she told him frankly.
ÒI wish we had a dungeon like before,Ó he said, turning away, and
then suddenly he whirled about again and they both looked at each other.
ÒYES!Ó they said in unison.
ÒIÕll have to fuck her,Ó he told Ginger.
ÒThatÕs okay,Ó she replied, twisting her mouth a little, showing she
didnÕt really like the thought of it but was willing to live with it. ÒJust
wear a condom,Ó she added.
ÒYeah,Ó he said. He was heady with the thought of their freedom.
ÒLetÕs go now,Ó he said. ÒI feel up to it, donÕt you?Ó
ÒYes!Ó she darted from the tub.
They drove all night. He decided it had been a good idea, for it would
keep them out of sight during the day. Next morning he checked into
another motel and they were so exhausted that they simply slept. When
they awoke he peed in the toilet and then she peed, and then they returned
to bed and they fucked. This time they did it a novel way, both facing each
other, with her sitting up and him sitting up, but both of them leaning
back, supporting their weight on their hands as they faced each other.
Only their genitals touched, except for the brushing and occasional
clamping of their knees and legs against each otherÕs hips. They stared at
each other and communicated through their loins. Chip wished they were
outdoors and could look up at the sky once in a while, but they werenÕt, so
they simply stared at each other, or tossed their heads back and stared at
the yellow-painted ceiling above them. When at last he ejaculated in her
they got up and went to the shower. He made her kneel and he gave her a
golden shower of pee. Then he sat down on the porcelain and she crouched
over him and spread her lips and she peed on the penis heÕd used to wet
her. Then they both rose, and turned on the water, and washed each other.
At sunset they pulled up in front of the bordello. HeÕd whipped her
here, mercilessly, and now they were back again. But it was different
now, because they were on their own. And, more importantly, they were
seeking refuge.
Chip knocked. Kimber appeared at the door. He could hear a party
going on inside.
ÒOh! I wasnÕt expecting you,Ó Kimber said to Chip. She looked at
Ginger. Ò...two.Ó She added. Then she looked at Chip again. Her hair was
close, too close to her face, and she would have normally tossed it back
from her eyes but she didnÕt.
ÒYou stole her, didnÕt you?Ó Kimber asked Chip.
ÒNo, she came of her own will,Ó Chip said.
ÒI mean, according to the law, you stole her,Ó Kimber said. She
looked briefly at Ginger and then back at Chip.
ÒItÕs okay, IÕll fuck you,Ó Chip said. He felt a sense of desperation
growing within him.
Kimber smiled. It was a tired smile, the smile of a woman who was
much older than himself or Ginger, in experience if not in years. ÒCome
in,Ó she said.
They stepped inside the bordello. Ginger, being 12, turned toward
the room where the party was. Kimber reached out and stopped her.
ÒNo darling. TheyÕre policemen,Ó she told the girl.
A whoop went up.
ÒGod Damn!Ó a manÕs voice yelled. Chip heard a woman shriek, as if
her clothes were being pulled off. ÒAnd God Bless the State of Neeevada!Ó
the man hollared.
ÒEven if they werenÕt policemen, sheÕs probably the best known face
in America right now,Ó Kimber said to Chip. She led them further down
the hall and into a bedroom and closed the door.
ÒItÕs that bad?Ó Chip asked.
ÒItÕs not Polly Klaas,Ó Kimber said. She looked at the floor, figeted
with her fingers. Ginger clasped ChipÕs hand, squeezed it. Chip heard
himself swallow.
ÒSo, like, whatÕs happened?Ó Chip asked.
ÒHer parents havenÕt said too much,Ó Kimber said. She looked
accusingly at Ginger. ÒI think maybe your mom and dad had a hunch you
werenÕt just stolen outright from your bedroom,Ó she said. Ginger looked
innocently up at Kimber.
ÒMaybe Annette said something to them,Ó Chip said half-hopefully.
Of course, how much could she say? She couldnÕt just come out and say,
ÔHi! DonÕt worry! Your daughter lost her cherry to him and now I think heÕs
the one who stole your daughter. But donÕt worry, heÕs an okay guy, heÕs
just into kinky sex like me and my husband are.Õ No, that wasnÕt possible.
GingerÕs mom and dad didnÕt even know Annette and Dave did the kinky sex
thing.
ÒHow about me? Am I on the news?Ó Chip asked.
ÒNo,Ó Kimber said. ÒBut thereÕs a very good description of you.
Apparently you werenÕt unknown to this Little MissÕs friends.Ó
ÒOh yeah,Ó Chip replied.
Kimber bent down and looked Ginger straight in the eye. ÒI need to
know something, woman to woman,Ó Kimber said. ÒI may as well call you
a woman, since you are, dear, whether you like it or not, with your cherry
popped and all.Ó She looked at Ginger hard. ÒDid you ever tell any of my
friends about my bordello? Because if you did, you canÕt stay here.
TheyÕll come looking here, and theyÕll find you if you are here, because
theyÕll turn the place upside down.Ó
Ginger gulped. There was silence in the room.
ÒA little,Ó she finally said.
ÒShit!Ó Kimber leapt to her feet and swore. ÒLittle bitch!Ó she
hissed under her breath at Ginger.
ÒI didnÕt... say it was a bordello...Ó Ginger said. ÒI just said we
kissed...Ó she let her voice trail off.
ÒThatÕs all?Ó Kimber asked.
ÒYes,Ó Ginger said.
Kimber slowly let out her breath. She turned to Chip. ÒWhen I let
you in before, I didnÕt ask any questions. I like being like that, free with
myself and with other people. But now sheÕs hot as a little red tomato,
and as you can hear the local police are right down the hall, enjoying
themselves. And itÕs not a greased-palm thing, either. Visiting a
brothelÕs legal in Nevada.Ó
ÒI know,Ó Chip said.
ÒAlright well you can stay,Ó Kimber said to them both. She looked
again at Ginger. ÒBut donÕt lie to me, Little Miss, because this place isnÕt
safe for you to have fun and eat your lollipops if you did tell anyone about
it. Least of all for your boyfriend, here, with his marvelous prick. TheyÕll
hang him high by it and youÕll never see him again if they come here
looking for you.Ó
Ginger squeezed ChipÕs hand. ÒI know,Ó she said. ÒIÕll be quiet.Ó
Kimber looked at Chip. ÒI could get a lot of money for her,Ó she told
him.
ÒNo way,Ó Chip answered. ÒYou get me. ThatÕs it.Ó
ÒFor both me and my customers,Ó Kimber said.
ÒWhat?!Ó Chip said. He almost yelled the word, but managed, hearing
the policemen down the hall give another whoop, to somehow restrain
himself. He felt like hitting her.
ÒYep.Ó Kimber said. ÒYou hide out with this hot little Tamale, and
eat my food -- donÕt even think about going into town for groceries, Mr.
Most Wanted -- you WORK for your keep. IÕm going to do a thriving
business on that glorious big cock of yours and this little lady can have it
when IÕm not using it. Okay, Miss?Ó she turned to Ginger. Her face was
hot and angry. Ginger stared up at her, mouse-like.
ÒDonÕt break it,Ó Ginger said. ÒItÕs a nice penis, even if he does use
it to pee on me.Ó
ÒIt wonÕt get broken,Ó Kimber said.
Ginger looked at Chip. ÒWell at least now you have a job,Ó she said
to him.
ÒYeah,Ó Chip sneered. But the funny thing was, if youÕd told him,
when he was in the Army, that heÕd be employed to fuck women at a
bordello, he would have whooped with joy. He tried to remember that fact
and keep it in his mind as he contemplated his future.
ÒAnd if you ever want to wiggle that darling little ass of yours
around, let me know,Ó Kimber said to Ginger. ÒBut in the meantime, sheÕs
hot,Ó she said, turning again to Chip. ÒAnd I couldnÕt afford to use her
even if I wanted to.Ó Kimber poked Chip in his hard, flat stomach with her
polished finger. The nail didnÕt have any flake marks on it like GingerÕs
did. ÒYouÕve got to wear a mask,Ó she said. ÒYouÕre going to be Zorro, and
donÕt let any of the women pull your mask off, no matter what.Ó
ÒRight,Ó Chip said.
ÒDuring the day I want you to work out. ThereÕs a weight bench
downstairs and some weights. And eat. YouÕll need it to keep up your
strength during the night. And, when I can manage it, youÕll lie out back,
and keep your tan up, wearing just the skimpiest male bathing suit I can
find for you.Ó She turned to Ginger. ÒAnd youÕre going to work too, little
lady,Ó she said. ÒHeÕll need to be massaged every morning when heÕs done.
Just like a horse. YouÕll want to oil all of his muscles and rub them down,
and that especially includes his cock.Ó
ÒYes,Õm,Ó Ginger said.
ÒAnd he might be too tired to eat, so you be ready to sit on the bed
with him and spoon feed him if he needs it. And then keep your little
mitts off him until nightfall, so he can go back to work again.Ó Kimber ran
a hand through GingerÕs hair. ÒDonÕt worry. HeÕs only 21. HeÕll have
something for you too with that perpetually hard cock of his, I assure
you.Ó
And so the long days of summer passed, a summer where Ginger
should have been in school, for she went to a year-round school, but
instead she was a stable girl, and her horse was Chip, the Italian Stallion
as he was called at KimberÕs bordello, though he spoke not a word of
Italian. Ginger spent her days keeping in him top shape for his duties. She
fed him and watered him and sometimes peeked in on him as he
entertained the women. Chip was forced to fuck all kinds of women, all
who came, all who paid. Mostly Ginger thought it was all rather silly,
except when the women were very beautiful, but in the morning Chip
always returned to her, and was Hers alone, though women would have
eagerly paid him to come home with them.
Chip devoted himself to weightlifting and he grew stronger. His
shoulders broadened and his chest deepened and it was thought too that
his penis was strengthened by all his labor. Certainly his self-control
grew and GingerÕs rides on him grew ever more wonderful and arduous as
he was able to hold himself back for longer and longer periods.
Ginger herself also grew and blossomed. There was absolutely
nothing for the two lovers to do except care for each other and each
otherÕs bodies. Food was provided by Kimber, and drink, and even lollipops,
and they had their own T.V. downstairs that they could watch in their
hours together. At night Chip went to work and in the morning he returned.
They tanned together in the bordelloÕs backyard, in a private place KImber
provided for them, Chip in a ball-hugger swimsuit and Ginger in a little
bikini.
ÒYouÕre beautiful,Ó Chip said to Ginger, staring at her in the hot
August sun, in Nevada, where it was sunny year round.
ÒSo are you,Ó Ginger replied. She gazed at him sleepily. She was
wearing a white swimsuit, quite tiny, and he had on a light yellow pair of
swim briefs.
ÒWe are the beautiful people,Ó Chip said to her.
ÒI think so,Ó Ginger replied.
Chip had a glass of lemonade by his chaise-lounge and he reached
down and plucked an ice cube out of it. He leaned over his love and pulled
open her swimsuit. He dropped the ice cube onto her venus mound.
ÒOook!Ó Ginger cried. She leapt up. Chip lay back and grinned at her.
Without taking out the ice cube, Ginger leaned over and picked a cube
out of her own glass. She leaned over him and opened his swimsuit. Chip
felt a breath of warm air enter where his loins were coiled and he felt his
sun-warmed cock stiffen. Ginger deposited her cube on his loins and let
go of his suit. It snapped shut.
ÒThanks. I needed that,Ó Chip said to her.
ÒI know you did,Ó she replied. And she lay back and, together, they
both felt their ice cubes melt inside their swimsuits and wet their
privates.
30
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