Jean Sifton - The peeking sister

About an hour later Pimple Face had returned with a Coke and hamburger for her and had gone over with her the few pitiful lines she was supposed to speak in her grand debut as an actress. It was just a one-act curtain raiser, he said, a very simple situation based on the real-life one she was actually in, so all she had to do was be herself. The main part obviously was making love to the guard. June had protested when she heard that Tiffany was to play with her, but Pimple Face had sworn it would be her last performance. It certainly would be, June mused to herself, if her plan worked. And it would be the last time for quite a while that Pimple Face would be pushing people around. Of course, she hadn't bothered to memorize her lines. She had no intention whatsoever of speaking them.

When Pimple Face left the second time, she had dozed off on the cot, completely exhausted by all the incredible things that had happened to her since her arrival in the city. When she woke up, her watch had stopped, and she had no way of knowing how long she had slept. Her stomach told her it must be late though. She was hungry again and had to urinate terribly. She was just trying to get up the courage to use the chamber pot when the offensive little man barged in without even knocking and started barking orders at her.

"Stand up and strip!"

As she began to slowly undress, he sat down on the chair, making unpleasant sucking noises with his tongue against his teeth and continuously raking her body over with those piercing little gimlet eyes. She had expected this, of course… to be treated like an animal at the market place… but the vicious satisfaction the evil little creature obviously derived from her embarrassment made her blood boil.

"Whaddaya standing like that for?" he rasped at her when finally she stood voluptuously naked in front of him.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she answered primly.

"Piss in that pot," he sneered, indicating the chamber pot under the cot. "It's not really all that big a deal, kid," he added when she hesitated, "compared to what you're gonna be doing in a little while. Did the guy tell ya what ya have to do?"

"He said… seduce the guard," June answered. Finally the urgency of her need to urinate overcame her modesty and she squatted down on the pot sidewise to him. Somehow his hearing the loud frothing sound of her water gushing into the plastic container was even more humiliating than his watching her. He would pay for this, she vowed grimly to herself. The sadistic little wretch!

"The script calls for you to suck his cock!" Dippy snapped. "You ever suck a cock?"

"N-no-o…" June faltered, but then in fear that he would make her practice on him she quickly added, "But I know how. I saw it done once."

"You saw it!" Dippy exclaimed, simulating shock with a sly grin. "Whadda ya, a voyeur or somepin?" His eyes sparkled maliciously when he saw her blush bright red from head to toe. Borman was right! She was too much, this broad was, with a cock-stiffening body like that and all these hang-ups. Something hadda break. "C'mere!" he ordered peremptorily. "Spread those pussy lips. Come on, Goddamnit!" he yelled furiously when she hesitated again. "I gotta make sure you're healthy, kid. I got my other actors to think about to, for chrissake!"

She approached him and, with hands trembling from both shame and rage, parted the sparsely haired outer flanges of her cunt, exposing to his lewd gaze the slick pink flesh of the moist furrow and the shrinking little bud of her clitoris.

He whipped the cigar from his mouth and leaned forward, sniffing loudly. "Pretty funky," he commented dryly. "Wha'd ya take on last night? A Goddamn bull…? Wash it up, for Godsake. Curtain call in five minutes." With that he clamped the cigar back into his cruel little mouth and strutted out, leaving the dark-haired girl's face flaming and her body trembling in outrage.

"Just you wait," she muttered. "Just wait!"

When Gallagher pushed her out onto the stage, instead of falling to the floor sobbing and then running to Tiffany as she had been instructed to do, June strode firmly across the rough planks toward the footlights and stood there commandingly in her proud naked beauty with arms upraised. There was a prolonged burst of applause mixed with whistles and wolf calls, but she stood there unflinchingly until the noise subsided. Half-blinded by the spot projectors above and the row of lights below, she could only see the faces in the audience as vague blurs, but she was sure that out there somewhere there must be at least one person who had a spark of humanity left in him, sick as he must be to come to a show like this. When the theater was completely silent, she began the brief speech that she had rehearsed to herself that afternoon.

"Please help us!" she cried out in a vibrant compelling voice. "My sister and I are prisoners here. We're not doing this of our own free will. We're treated like slaves. You must help us! Get up and leave. Then call the police. That's all you have to do!"

There was a moment of puzzled silence, then somewhere someone snickered, someone else began to frankly laugh and in a second the whole hall was roaring with laughter. People were clapping and drumming their feet on the floor. There were even a couple of Bravos!

God, they thought it was part of the act, June realized. Her beautiful face flamed with anger and despair. She stretched out her hands pleadingly and screamed in a powerful voice that cut like a knife through the din. "It's true! I'm telling you the truth. We're prisoners of a gang. You've got to help us!"

The applause turned to jeering hoots and catcalls. "Cut the crap, sister!" someone yelled at her and another voice called out, "Quit talking and start sucking!"

"Yeah, suck! Suck! Suck!" They all took up the chant and June realized that there were women in the audience too. She had thought it would be exclusively made up of men, but no, there were women out there too… women so depraved and perverted they wouldn't even help one of their own sex. Tears welled into her magnificent brown eyes and she turned her back on the audience just in time to see Tiffany, also stark naked, advancing toward her with exaggeratedly mincing little steps.

"Poor dear sister!" the young blonde exclaimed in an artificial flute-like voice when the noise died down again. "You don't have to worry. I shall seduce the guard, and while he's busy soiling me with his filthy sperm, you can slip out of this horrible dungeon and alert the police."

"They're paid off!" someone in the audience yelled and the crowd broke into laughter again.

Unabashed, Tiffany went on with her stilted dialogue, stagily encircling June's supple waist with her slender arm and leading her toward a spot behind the bed where she would be practically invisible to the audience. "Now you lie down here, darling sister," she cooed to June soothingly, "and pretend that you've fainted. I shall call the evil guard and whilst I am seducing him on the bed, you can sneak out the door."

"She'd rather stick around and watch!" somebody heckled from the rear of the hall to another chorus of guffaws and titters.

June stopped in mid-stride and stared bewilderedly at her sister, "What do you mean… while you seduce him?" She realized confusedly that Tiffany was carrying on with the skit and supposed that under the circumstances it was the only thing to do. But surely both Pimple Face and that horrid little man had both said very clearly that it was June who was to do the seducing. The failure of her appeal to the audience had left her in a state of semi-shock, and she gazed dazedly around her, vaguely aware that the stage set crudely depicted a sort of medieval dungeon with various instruments of torture hanging from the walls.

"Yes, darling," Tiffany went on in her artificially pitched voice. "I shall do it for your sake because I know you are still as pure as the driven snow whereas I have lived, my dear. God, have I ever lived!" She raised her arm melodramatically to her brow.