Debbi Matthews - Debbi_s dirt road

"Would I fit in?" Debbi asked. The beating had been exciting, but she still wasn't certain whether she'd be what the man wanted.

"I'm sure of it," the woman replied. Her hand rubbed the girl's ass in a strangely feminine, matronly motion of affection. "Think it over."

"I will," Debbi answered, wondering if she could ever escape from Willie.

"Good. Now help me get him into the kitchen. I've got to see to those wounds. Can't risk having a nasty infection set in," the woman said. Debbi helped her steer the weakened boy into a standing position against a wall in the kitchen. His eyes seemed strange and passive, yet Debbi could sense the boy's fear and hatred of both of them. The more important of these was fear. It was basic animal fear at its lowest level. And its most powerful.

"I'll have to cauterize these wounds. Sit under him and suck his cock. He'll have it bad," the woman said. Debbi was amazed to see the boy with another hard-on. He could have one on demand. It wasn't large, but it was a pretty cock, almost feminine. Debbi took the cock fully into her mouth. The woman had a hot iron in her hand and pressed it to one of the boy's buttocks.

The boy jerked violently, as if he bad been electrocuted, and the force of his movement pushed Debbi's head against the wall. But she hung on bravely. If the boy had a bigger cock, she conceivably could have choked to death on it.

"That's one," the woman said, holding the iron

back from the area to inspect the effect. Satisfied, she repeated the procedure on the other buttock.

Once more the boy moved forward, but this time Debbi felt his cock throbbing inside her mouth. The warm fluid seemed slightly salty, but Debbi drank it all.

Finally, the boy went limp, and rested the front of his body against the wall. Debbi crawled out

from under the boy. His ass was bright red, but looked none the worse from what it had been through. At least compared to how it looked after the beating in the bedroom.

"I have to get back," Debbi explained. She hurried into her clothes.

"Leave the panties," the woman said, "he so likes to smell a sexy pussy."

Debbi quickly agreed. "Of course, but who is he?" Her curiosity had finally gotten the better of her.

"My son," the woman answered, smiling. Debbi returned a faint smile and left. Debbi didn't know if it was her or the world growing more grotesque each day. But it really didn't concern her. She knew that somehow she would gain her freedom from Willie. And she knew that the strange growing desire of her flesh would have to be satisfied. And it would have to be soon.

Debbi grew mare appreciative of the comforts afforded her as the weather grew more fierce. She had even accustomed herself to making several dope drops a week for her pimp. Debbi regretted that she only infrequently got to deliver a supply to the house of the woman she knew only by her signature. And whether her name was really Mrs. Symth didn't concern Debbi. She hungered for the twice monthly beatings she could administer to the woman's son. Her body seemed to develop a need for the erotic sensation of causing pain to another. And it was especially keen in the punishment of a male. Mrs. Symth had been almost insistent that Debbi look up this Mr. Fad in Toronto. The woman insisted that Debbi was wasting her talents as a prostitute. She could be an "angel of sweet agony" as the woman put it. Debbi told her she'd think about it. And she did think about it quite often of late.

The job of whoring was tedious, but tolerable. She ate the best food, had expensive clothing, and it was relatively easy to control the men who paid for the privilege of fucking her.

Willie had ignored her recently. That was fine with Debbi. She began to loathe the feel of that large, black cock inside of her. And Willie was always on some kind of high, working his best to

get Debbi to try the stuff. She'd go as far as hash, but that was her limit. She was doing everything right. She had saved up a few thousand dollars as a nest egg. And since Willie had no reason to beat her or. bother her because of the way she was handling her work, she was left by herself. Debbi was beginning to relish being completely alone.

The knock on her door stirred Debbi from her satisfying reflections. She looked at the clock and saw that it was after one o'clock in the morning. Her last trick had left nearly an hour before. And it was not like Willie to send up an extra john without telling her. The knock grew more insistent and Debbi got up to answer it, after first putting on a nightgown.

"Sorry to disturb you, Miss Blackwell, but we're the police and have some questions for you," the kindly-looking middle-aged man said. He produced a wallet containing some kind of badge. Debbi was still naive in many ways, and she would have taken the man as a policeman without asking him to show any identification.

"I… I… all right," Debbi said nervously. A shock wave of panic struck her brain. Had Willie suddenly given up on her and informed the police. No, he would be implicating himself in so doing. Perhaps Buck had finally contacted the police and told them of Debbi's murder of his mistress Cindy. She decided it would be best for her to cooperate.

"Please get dressed. I think this discussion could best take place at police headquarters," the man said. Debbi noticed a younger man standing out in the hail. He was ‹leering at her nearly naked body and his stare made Debbi feel even more uncertain.

"Is he with you?" Debbi asked.

"Yes. Of course," the man' answered. "I'll wait inside, if you don't mind."

"No," Debbi said in a squeaky voice. She was numb, but managed to take her clothing to the bathroom and dress quickly. She had always vowed that the police would never get her, and then confine her to some institution. It was a sincere pledge as long as they remained only a pursuing specter. But now that they were a reality, Debbi found herself unable to act. For an instant, she thought of taking a razor blade and slashing her wrists. But that idea passed quickly.

Debbi knew that she wanted to live. She would have to take her chances with the police. Perhaps Willie would use his influence to save her. If she didn't get that help from Willie, Debbi vowed that she'd reveal every sordid detail and drag all of those in her past down with her.

"Miss! Please hurry," the voice from the other room called to her. Debbi did so and left with the older man. They went down to an ordinary-looking car. The driver faced forward as the man and his young female charge got into the car's back seat. Debbi then realized that the younger man wasn't with them. He had obviously stayed behind to search her apartment. She bit her upper lip as she thought of the three thousand dollars she had hidden there. But she made no mention of it to the man next to her.

"Okay, let's roll," the younger man said, jumping into the front seat. The driver moved away from the curb in a hurry. It was then that Debbi knew they weren't going toward any police station.

"Stupid broad. How fuckin' dumb can you get?" the man in the front seat said, laughing.

"What do you mean?" Debbi demanded, wondering why she had been so eager to go with them.

"This," the man in the back seat answered. In one motion, he had his hand under her panties and at her crotch. His fingers had a death grip on her clitoris that was excrutiatingly painful. She screamed as the man pressed harder.

"What he means is, we want to know where's the dope and the money Willie's been feeding you? He'll pull that little button right off of you if you don't answer," the man in frontcalrnly explained.

"Oh, stop, please! I don't know!" Debbi shouted in sheer agony. Surprisingly, the man released his grip just when Debbi felt certain he would tear the tiny organ out by the roots. Instead, the man took her head and gripped it tightly in the crook of one powerful arm. He squeezed, making Debbi's head feel like it would bunt.