corridor. She didn't move though, because the bathroom toilet flushed, the door burst open, and out came Debby, her titties flying left and right and she new back into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. Sharon could hear her older sister say: 'Diaphragms are a pain in the arse, but babies are even worse.'
She cursed herself for coming home and thinking she would have the place to herself. She wondered if maybe Debby and the young man, whatever his name was, would soon be leaving and thus giving her the privacy she needed in order to satisfy her own giant sexual needs. The crave and itch in her twat had grown large and demanding. 'If only they would leave in a little while,' she pouted. 'If only I knew for a fact that they would be leaving in a little while. Then I could live with the idea of waiting.'
She considered going into the bathroom and sitting down on the toilet to tweak her twitching clitoris, but she hated the feel of that round seat against her buns and she didn't like looking at the cold tile of the john. She would have to think of something else. But the sight of the real hard-on. The previous story of incest told by her friend Cindy, the day's events in general and the fact that she was a pubescent teenager — all of these things combined together to make Sharon Pettibone so hot and so lusty that her juices began leaking out of her twat labia without her lifting a finger. 'Oh, God,' she muttered to herself, still standing in the hallway entrance, 'what the hell am I supposed to do?'
While thinking about alternative plans, she slipped her hand down under the folds of her skirt and came up with a handful of fresh juicy twat flesh. She rubbed her finger into her pussy. For support and for comfort and ease she leaned back against the hallway wall and then pressed her finger even further up into her juicy hole. She felt the wall behind her, flat against her back, and she felt her finger sliding in and out of her hot wet pussy. She enjoyed the strokes she was giving herself in her cunt. Her mighty little clitoris was up and active, throbbing for more and more sexual stimulation. And as for the juices boiling inside her pussy cavern — they were all going wild, ready to bubble over. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall. She used her other hand to go searching under her blouse for her left nipple. She found it and teased the cherry tips upright. They stood active and ready for service like tin soldiers at attention. 'Oh, God,' she sighed, slipping to the wood floor below, 'I need to have it now.'
By the time she was sitting flat on the hallway floor, legs spread, feet turned outwards, loins wide open, she was dreaming about a particularly brutal fellow who was threatening to beat her.
'I'm going to give you a beating you'll never forget,' he insisted. 'So just get used to the idea.'
He had dark eyes and bushy eyebrows. He could see in Sharon Pettibone's face a basically subservient creature. He was going to rule her, to make her submit to every vile and disgusting thing be could possibly think of. He knew just from a single inspection of her young face that she was by far one of the most masochistic creatures he had ever met. He stepped forward brandishing a metal and leather chain device. He clipped it by a silver bracelet to her naked wrist. She wailed at him, struggled to be free, but there was no escape. He dragged her behind him. At first she was able to keep up with him. They were on a dusty dirty road, as though suddenly she and this sadist had been dropped into the middle of the New Mexico plains country. He dragged her along the road and she lost her footing. He kept pulling, though, and she went down, nude, behind him. He managed to keep her moving only because of his tremendous brute strength.
Then, in the dust, out in the middle of nowhere, he chained her to a single steel pole. She was in tether. He took from a case formerly strewn over his shoulder a pair of metal prongs and a hammer. He pounded the prongs halfway into the dusty road. Then he took a third and a fourth horseshoe shaped prong and pounded them part way into the dirt road. Finally, he unleashed young and naked Sharon Pettibone and forced her ankles and wrists under the four prongs. The metal clasps were perfectly arranged. The mysterious strong man pounded the clasps the rest of the way down so that all four pieces of steel held Sharon's small wrists and only slightly thicker ankles close to the ground. She was bound taut to the road.
He began laughing. He chortled, and then he laughed loudly, so loud that his laughter could be heard echoing off some distant plateau of rock. When he heard his voice returning to him he stopped. He smiled at Sharon who was in a state of abject fright. He looked down at her naked pussy and smiled again. 'I'm going to fuck the shit out of this bitch,' he said, as if talking to someone else. He climbed down between her legs and took his meat in hand. 'I'm going to fuck her so hard that she doesn't know what hit her.' He speared her in the pussy.
His hefty meat impaled Sharon. She couldn't move. The prongs held her tight to the beaten road. The strong man filled her flesh breach with hot cock meat. She was frightened, but she couldn't help juicing a great deal all over the man's stiff cock. 'Oh, God,' she moaned, not to him because she knew he didn't care. 'Oh, God, fuck, fffuuuuucccckkkkk!'
She came to on the hallway floor. Her sister Debby and her boyfriend Lenny were standing naked above her. 'Sharon?! Sharon?!' They were yelling at her, trying to bring her back from some faraway place about which she had been screaming and yelling. She looked up and saw Lenny's big stiff meat. It was wet and thick. She thought it looked like the strong man's muscle. For a moment she was frightened. She closed her eyes and settled back against the wall. 'What happened?' she asked. 'Did something happen?'
They looked at each other and then down at Sharon. Debby said: 'You were crying out. You were yelling not to beat you. You were saying that they shouldn't use the whip and you had your hand in your cunt. Were you dreaming? Sharon? What were you doing here in the hallway?' Then Debby saw that Sharon's hand had been down between her young loins. 'Oh, poor darling,' said Debby Pettibone softly. 'I think I understand now.'
'I wish someone would tell me,' said Lenny who stood up and went back to the bedroom. Debby followed after him and in a whisper she said: 'My sister never fucked before. She was out there masturbating, probably about you, silly. And she got carried away. That's all.'
'I get it,' said Lenny, 'and you want me to fuck her?'
'No, I certainly don't,' said Debby. 'But she will need to have something real and rooty pretty soon. Or she's going to go crazy again.' She smiled and went back to young Sharon. She tried to comfort her horny younger sister.
Chapter Ten
It was two days later. Again that crazy crave crawled in Sharon's pelvis. She could feel the itch, the desire. She could sense it growing. She knew it was there, alive like an animal, like a terrified beast seeking solace from a dreaded hunter. The beast hid in first one corner of her twat, and then laid flat on the bottom of the cave, and then it stood up and reared his head outwards, as if to challenge all comers: 'Fuck me! Fuck me! See if you can fuck me!'
She felt it growing stronger, more needy, hornier. She needed something inside her devilishly hot bod. She needed it soon. Which would have been just Jim Dandy, but the crave struck her while she was sitting in the living room watching t.v. with her parents. Her mother sat knitting, and her father, Mr. Pettibone sat glazed over and motionless, like some sort of ceramic sculpture, watching nothing but the blue glare off the set. 'Jesus,' Sharon felt like screaming, 'don't you all want to do something else?'
But she stifled the tiny scream and went about her business, that being sitting still and watching the tube. 'Oh, God,' she moaned inside her head, 'isn't there some way out of this?' She stood up and said aloud: 'I'm going to do some homework.' Neither of her parents looked up. Her father, however, like a talking potato, said at the blue glare: 'Don't you go and start doing you know what…'
Of course she knew 'what', but nothing her father was saying could possibly stop her. He didn't know, and perhaps that was part of his problem, that the sex drive was far stronger than any reprimand he could possibly inflict on his daughter's young consciousness. She left the room silently, supposedly obediently, and then she rushed out the back door of the house, out into the backyard where it was dark and a summer heat filled the night with a black humidity. There were a few stars twinkling vaguely up above. Sharon spread herself out under the sky on the backyard lawn. She was wearing cotton shorts and her smooth tanned legs, even in the night, were shining nicely. She unbuttoned the top button of her little shorts and reached her hand, her fingers, down through her curly mound and into the flesh breach where her lusty juices boiled for attention.
