If I were a man, I'd go after me, Arlette thought to herself, glancing at her reflection in the big hall mirror as she walked briskly from the livingroom into the kitchen. The sounds of his working grew louder. Pausing in the kitchen only for a moment to gather what little courage she had, Arlette stepped outside, spotting the bent-over shape of Jack near the border of the garden. He was tearing up some tiles, his t-shirt soaked with perspiration. Arlette held her breath. She could hardly swallow, and her heart felt heavy as it pounded against her chest. Jack stopped his work in a moment, aware suddenly that someone else was in the patio area. He turned around, staring up at her with those hooded, sexy black eyes. Arlette turned to butter.
"I thought, since you were working so hard, you might want a lemonade or… or something."
Her voice trailed off to a whisper. Arlette could hardly believe the hunger she felt. It was like a small, wild animal gnawing away at her insides. She wanted Jack to grab her, hold her the way she had seen him hold her mother. She wanted him to overwhelm her, smother her with his body while ropes… oh, it was too much for her to think about right now.
"That's okay, kid. Arlette, ain't it? That's your name, I mean," Jack said, brushing off his hands on his Levi's and standing up.
He was so tall, nearly blocking out the sky in front of her! He seemed easy, relaxed as he smiled at her.
"Y-yes."
Jack rubbed his nose, that same dirty smirk on his face she had seen several nights before. Had she started something she couldn't finish?
"That's good… knowin' your name, I mean. Don't like to start these things without knowin' a broad's name."
Arlette felt the ground moving under her. She closed her eyes, her heart stopping. No, it was starting again. She clenched and unclenched her fingers. She could run, rush out into the streets and wait until her mother returned. But instead, she stayed as Jack brushed off his pants, then approached her.
"I…"
"You don't have to say nothin', kid. You want it… like your old lady does. All in the Goddamned family," he muttered, circling one hand around her small neck. Arlette pushed back against the feeling. She was shameless, as shameless as her mother!
"Please, I don't want to…"
It was a lie. It was all a lie. Yes, she wanted to experience what her mother had, to have the feeling of being roped and raped. Her virginity, her innocence, her reputation – nothing mattered to her now as Jack caressed the nape of her neck, then drew her closer. In a moment, she felt his lips touching hers, soon crushing her lips back against her teeth while his tongue wiggled down deep into her mouth. Never had she been kissed like that! The world exploded and spun around in a kaleidoscope of bright colors as Jack hunched his crotch against her.
"Baby… you're a hot little thing… and I'll bet you ain't been tapped yet."
"What?"
"You still got your cherry," Jack explained, rubbing her ass with both hands, gathering up the soft material of her dress until the girl could feel his fingertips rubbing over her asscheeks. She felt the hot bulge of his cock pressing out against the front of his jeans and let out a little gasp of delight. It was going to happen, and happen with him.
"Come on. I'll leave my stuff here. I live a couple of miles down the way. Don't want to do nothin' here 'less your old lady comes in and finds us," Jack said, breathing hotly into her ear.
It was wrong, terribly wrong! She was giving into this man, going away with him. But excitement scorched her veins, making her throw prudence to the winds. She was panting like a bitch dog as his hands moved up and down her body. Nothing mattered at all. She didn't care. Sucking in a deep breath of air, Arlette followed the big man, Jack guiding her with his hand loosely on her neck. They walked around the house to a van parked in front of the house. She slipped into the passenger's seat, feeling her hot little cunt pressing against the cool vinyl, the juices dampening the narrow nylon crotch panel of her briefs.
"Gonna make it quick, baby. You got me real hot," Jack said, touching her bare thigh for a moment, then turning on the engine. The subtle rumbling of the engine stimulated her pussy even more as they threaded their way quickly through the dimly illuminated streets of West Hollywood. Arlette didn't pay any attention to where they were going. She stared straight ahead, unable to believe she had taken this tremendous step. Going out with this strange man, her mother's lover! And yet why was she smiling there in the dark as Jack guided his car to a stop in front of a small, onestory house on Romaine Avenue?
"Okay, out."
Everything for the next few moments was a blur. Arlette was so excited that she could hardly breathe normally. She was walking up a path, standing before a door, then finding herself inside the house. Jack was telling her to move forward, one hand pushing between her shoulderblades. There was the smell of stale tobacco in the house as she walked past a darkened kitchen, a bathroom, and finally into a back bedroom. The shutting of the door behind her brought the girl around.
"Oh!" she gasped.
Rings hung on the wall to either side of the small headboard. An image of her mother, her arms stretched over her head while Jack hunched over her, flashed through Arlette's mind with an accompanying fear. Somehow the stud seemed bigger than before. When he approached her, Arlette felt suddenly terrible vulnerable and terribly afraid. She flinched back, shrinking against one wall and half turning around, raising her right shoulder protectively up against her chin.
"Little girl find herself biting off more than she can chew, huh?" Jack said, guessing her thoughts. "Maybe so. But we're gonna find out about that now."
Arlette watched with big eyes as Jack slowly began unbuttoning his Levi's. Perhaps, she thought hazily, this wasn't such a very good idea after all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Uhhhhhh…"
Arlette groaned through the jockstrap Jack had stuffed in her mouth and attached in a tight knot around the back of her head. The odor and taste of sweat mingled with her spittle was nearly overpowering, making the girl heave dryly, fighting down the desire to drown herself in her own vomit. Things had taken a decided turn for the worse.
Jack was truly a master of the obscene and sadistic. Having forced her to the floor and on her belly, the big stud had first gagged her, telling the trembling girl he would kick her head in if she tried working the jockstrap out. Next came the worst part of all! Two leather cuffs were attached to her wrists, small clamps on each side of the devices linked together, making it impossible for Arlette to draw her hands apart. She lay there like a beached sea animal, her tits pillowed out under her chest, her arms pulled back and fastened together at the wrists, another two-inch-wide leather strap wrapped around her arms just above the elbows to keep her quiet.
"That's not all, baby. We're gonna work this one out so you can really get the feel of gettin' roped," Jack muttered, moving behind the girl and pushing her legs up at the knees until the heels of her feet were touching her fingers. There was the sound of him fishing through that horrid bottom bureau drawer of his, with more devices, more things to frighten her.