Peter Jensen - The blackmailed mother book II

In the kitchen, after plugging in the percolator, Lonnie glimpsed a sheet of ruled notepaper on the table. She crossed and picked it up and saw that it was a message from Jennifer in her neat, round handwriting.

Mom, it read, Have gone for the day with Stan. Hope you don't mind. Will be back tonight. Love Jennifer.

Lonnie crumpled the note and flung it from her. Poor, naive Jennifer. Her daughter was with this Lubin boy – did her day also include being with Tamera Oliss and her boyfriend, Vic Cain? Lonnie shuddered and sunk to one of the chairs, miserably placing her chin in her palms. Cylvia Oliss, how that "friend" had fooled her! Was her daughter the same way? Was Jennifer safe with Stan and Vic and Tamera… or were they all as depraved as Tamera's mother, and were trying to lead little Jennifer into the same kind of wild, salacious life as Cylvia had introduced Lonnie to? The horror of having her young teen-age offspring having her tender mind and body warped by the corruption that Cylvia represented made her almost want to vomit.

Lonnie thought for a crazy moment of phoning the police, and reporting that her daughter was in danger… then the bubbling of the coffee brought her back to reality, and as she poured herself a cup and walked back in the bedroom, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed with the knowledge that such a panicked move would be disastrous. For one thing, she had no way of knowing that Tamera was like her mother, or that even if she was, that Jennifer was with her or in danger. After all, it was daylight out there, and Jennifer knew enough not to drink or let boys get too fresh with her – heaven knows Lonnie had told her about saving herself for her husband enough times – and tonight she would have the chance for a real heart-to-heart, mother-daughter chat. Then, in the privacy and calmness of their own home, she could make Jennifer understand how important it would be to end her friendship with Tamera.

To go to the police, hysterical and obviously overcome with fear, would force Lonnie to admit her own wretched part in the affair… and then everybody would know what kind of woman she'd allowed herself to become. Everybody – including her husband, Roger. Roger would be repulsed, brand her a whore, and rightly so; he would divorce her, and she would be like so much excrement in his eyes. And Jennifer could ever be taken away from her! Dear God, what a nightmare she was living!

Lonnie managed to climb back into bed and stretch out, the coffee steaming on the table alongside her. Some of the beginning hysteria with which she had awakened passed as she sipped the brew, and now her mind could reply to some of her questions. She remembered the almost dreamlike trance she had fallen into after cumming… cumming how many times? That was lost, the count not taken at the time. Cylvia and Zeigler must have dressed her and carried her to the car after they'd had their way with her; there was the dim recollection of watching Cylvia Oliss and the gangster obscenely fucking together on one of the couches after she was unable to spread her exhausted thighs again. They must have taken her home and seen to it that she was in bed…

Cylvia. Her girl-friend's name was like a cancer in Lonnie's mind. The thought of that bisexual bitch and the flagrantly lewd acts she had performed on Lonnie's body, of her willingness to have that Sam Zeigler seduce the heretofore faithful wife, her constant desire for further perversions… What had possessed Cylvia to do such things? What did the lovely blonde woman have against Lonnie? Lonnie had trusted her, accepted her as a friend and protector, and for her to lead Lonnie into perversion and participate while her helplessly drugged body was subjected to the most depraved indignities – was there some thing in her nature which enjoyed seeing the humiliation of others?

Then, with an anguished groan of realization, Lonnie remembered that she herself had been drawn by the ravishment of the young girl by the monstrous German Shepherd. She had been repulsed at first, but then she had watched with fascination, her own unleashed passions, permitting Zeigler and Cylvia to take possession of her hungry body. She was no better than they were, merely newer at the games; hadn't her own body bucked and twisted in its own lustful fulfillment beneath her attackers? And hadn't she actually instigated some of the perverse forms of sexual delight? God, yes… she had, she had…!

She unbuttoned her bathrobe and once more inspected her radiant, shining white body, this time not looking for outward signs of damage, but traces of dissipation. Strange, she admitted, no body would know that I had been fucked and sucked half-crazy by both a man and a woman last night…

She concentrated on her breasts, and thought of how Sam Zeigler and Cylvia had taken their taut, puckish uplift and made them come alive. Yes, made her come alive, she was forced to confess, come alive and beg for Zeigler's huge, throbbing penis to salve her tortured, palpitating cunt. Lonnie squeezed her eyes shut as the erotic remembrances flooded through her… she had never felt so alone, so helpless in all her life. Going to her husband would be tantamount to ending her marriage, which was now her one support; going to the authorities was out for the same reasons she couldn't go to them with her fears about Jennifer; going to her daughter never occurred to her.

The torment which boiled through Lonnie Carmel's mind was worse than the agonies Jennifer suffered, for the black-haired young wife and mother had had nearly twice as many years to be come infused with the mores and guilts of her parents and society. That, and she was of an older, less permissive age, and the strictures against what she had done were much stronger than the ones Jennifer faced. Yet Lonnie also had many more years of sexual experience with her husband, and her body was not beginning to be awakened but already the product of fire and lust. It had been channeled into a higher plane of awareness by the Oliss' – and that meant that Lonnie was that much more demanding and conscious of her requirements. Even as she thought of the night before and the depraved way she and her girl-friend and Zeigler had been with each other, her hands brushed her bruised, violated body, reliving the feelings.

Her fingertips cooled her hot flesh and in spite of herself, Lonnie touched one tender nipple. The little rosebud flowered into a hardened chip, and then in shock Lonnie sat up. Oh God, I mustn't! Her breath shuddered, ragged and pulsating. Control yourself. Stop this… this carnal thinking! She gazed down at her naked loins, seeing them outwardly calm but feeling that they were already a seething mass of sensual desire. Her pink-rimmed cunt lips seemed to twitch and spasm through the covering of her dark curling pubic hair, and as sore as her vagina was, she spread her legs, drawing the lips apart so that the blood colored skin and her clitoris were visible, and the darker, more wet and sensitive opening gaped, tingling from the rush of cool air. Groaning she lay back, the blood rising in her cheeks as more vividly than ever the memories of Zeigler's virile body, his thick pulsing cock and heavy testicles swaying beneath his hirsute loins… and of Cylvia Oliss, taut-breasted and desire hot in her eyes, her blonde pubic hair a fleecy, moist blanket around her thin, pink pussy and her creamy, satin-soft inner thighs…

Her hips dug back on their own volition and before she could gather the strength to resist the compelling flame in her belly, she began to rub her palms around her hair-fringed cuntal valley, her fingers gently moving back and forth over her moistening, coral-tinged vaginal lips, and the tide of her passion began to flow over her once again. I must be sick… I can't allow tats… I must stop myself… I…