Susan Carter - Father knows best

"Hey Idrine, where're you going?" a voice asked.

The young girl looked up and recognized Brian Wolfe. Brian had light brown, almost afro-hair, though his skin was whiter than a lily. More than one girl teased him about his delicate female skin, but if it was delicate, it was also thick, because Brian never seemed to hear them. He had big, soulful brown eyes, and a very slender body. He was wearing tight dungarees and an orange polo shirt.

If Brian had been a bit older, he would have frequented Harriet Pembroke's establishment. Everyone in town knew Harriet's occupation, even if she was listed as a seamstress. Now he was hot after Harriet's granddaughter, Idrine. He figured if the grandma put out, could the granddaughter be far behind? In fact, Brian had his eighteenth birthday last week, and he'd collected more than thirty dollars in cash. He was sure he could get Harriet Pembroke to do something for him for at least twenty five of those dollars. The thirty-nine-year-old grandmother was not a greedy woman, and it was known she always had a thing for young boys.

"Where I'm going is none of your business," Idrine said to Brian, walking right by him.

"Hey, come on," Brian smiled. "I'm a friend. We're in the same classes together. You can talk to me."

"You're like all the other boys in school," Idrine snapped. "You kid around about my grandma."

"Aw, come on," Brian smiled. "You know I like your grandma. Hey, is that where you're going?"

"And if I am, so what?"

"Can I walk with you?" Brian asked.

"I don't think so," Idrine told him. "If you're still in the park when I come back, maybe I'll let you walk me home."

Harriet Pembroke had been introduced to sex much more violently than her daughter. To begin with, Harriet's father had been carted away to an insane asylum before Harriet was ten. Everyone kept saying insanity ran in the family, and it drove her mother to have a nervous breakdown.

Harriet was not yet nineteen, her aunt Cecile decided it was time to have Harriet checked out.

Aunt Cecile was Harriet's legal guardian with her father in an asylum and her mother in a sanitarium. Cecile had a doctor for a friend, and this doctor ran a private clinic. He charged abominably high fees, but Cecile felt it was worth the money to make sure Harriet didn't have a streak of insanity running through her. So she signed some legal papers and one morning an ambulance pulled up to her home, and before Harriet realized it, she was strapped to a stretcher and being wheeled into the ambulance.

At that time, Harriet had a round, heart shaped, youthful face, with small, puckered lips and big brown eyes. She was well-developed for her age, with breasts already the size of oranges. In spite of the tragedy of her parents, Harriet managed to come out of the incident mentally unscathed.

There were two attendants in the back of the private ambulance, and the moment the vehicle pulled away from her house. Harriet realized one of the men was fondling her. His hands were caressing her breasts.

"Stop!" Harriet yelled.

"What was that, kid?" the second attendant asked. "Did I hear you open your mouth and tell us to stop?"

The second man was much shorter than the first. He had a two-day-old beard and a gruff voice. His long, dark, matted hair almost came down to his shoulders.

"When I tell the doctor what your friend here is trying to do, you'll both be fired," Harriet snapped. "He's touching me."

"Kid, you ain't tellin' nobody nothin'," the second attendant, whose name was Murray, snapped. "When you get to the clinic, you're gonna be unconscious. See?" And he waved a hypodermic under her nose.

"No!" Harriet shouted.

"Scream all you want, kid," Murray told her. "This ambulance is soundproofed. Ain't no one around here who can hear, anyway. And old Hyman here just does as he's told. Now you behave, and we won't shoot the stuff into you until we get to the clinic. Otherwise I'll have to inject you, now. And the worst part of that is that you'll be fast asleep while we fuck you."

"While you what?" Harriet asked.

"While we fuck you. You know, while we stick our cocks into you."

"What are you talking about?" the young girl asked, terrified.

"You'll see, kid, you'll see. But be smart, cooperate. I mean, we want you awake and feeling it all."

Harriet stared up into the faces of the two men hovering over her tightly bound body. The larger man, named Hyman, was staring as if completely hypnotized by the white expanse of Harriet's thigh showing clearly under her short skirt. Saliva was dripping from his mouth. Hyman was almost a hulk. He looked like a monster created by Dr. Frankenstein, with large hands, heavy jowls, and sweaty skin.

Murray, the shorter of the two men, the obvious leader, was undressing her with his eyes. Harriet could see that. What she couldn't understand was, what did the man want with her naked body? She could see the cruel look of anticipation on the man's face, his eyes glittering with vicious lust.

Harriet felt totally abandoned and was half wild with fear. Though she couldn't understand why, she did realize these men intended her some bodily harm. It made absolutely no sense. These men were supposed to be entrusted with her safety. If anything went wrong, even if they did use a drug to render her unconscious, when she became conscious she could still report them. But neither of them seemed overly worried.

"You just relax and enjoy everything, kiddo," Murray told her, rubbing his hands together.

Gathering her courage, Harriet swallowed, then said, "Just what is it I'm supposed to enjoy?"

"We're just gonna have a little fun," Murray chortled. "You're tense, nervous, overwrought. We're gonna calm you down."

"What are you talking about?" Harriet's voice was tight with terror.

Murray leaned over the strapped-down girl, letting his hands play over the smooth, round contours of her swollen breasts. Though totally helpless, Harriet did her best to squirm away. But the salacious smile on Hyman's face let her know they had her where they wanted her, and nothing she did or said would change their minds.

"Please," she sobbed, tears falling down her youthful, innocent cheeks. "Don't do that. Don't touch me that way. No one has ever touched me…"

Murray's face lit up with sadistic enjoyment.

"Hyman," he said, "we have ourselves a little virgin. Isn't that nice? We get to teach her all about fucking." To Harriet he said, "Relax, little girl. I'll be real gentle when it comes to popping your cherry. You just try not to move too much, and you'll end up enjoying the whole thing."

Murray began kneading her breasts with stronger pressure.

"Oh no, no," Harriet begged. "Please, please, you mustn't do this. I don't know what you have in mind, but I'm sure it's wrong."

She was piteously pleading with them, struggling, writhing, trying to free herself, but totally unable to do so. The canvas straps across her hips and shoulders were too tight. She groaned in protest as the larger man, Hyman, began forcing his meaty hand up between her clenched thighs. She struggled to keep her thighs together, but felt his hand sliding higher, reaching for the tender crater at the apex. In desperation, Harriet strained to clamp her thighs closer together, the grinning man forced his heavy hand deeper and deeper, pressing, stretching, forcing her tender loins farther apart. She heard him catching his breath in almost childish wonder as her strength deserted her and her thighs moved apart, revealing the pink nylon panties covering the hairless V of her pubic area. Though her breasts were developing nicely and her hips were starting to swell, the hair beneath her arms and on her crotch had yet to appear. In later years, Harriet would realize how sexy a bare pubis looked, and she would have electrolytically removed the pubic bush, keeping it as bare as it was when she was a young girl.