Ray Todd - Dirty little girl

"Fuck me, Princess, fuck me!" he sobbed, releasing his cock and standing up.

Libby dropped the whip and stared at the man who was approaching her with spread arms. The bloody mass of flesh that was advancing toward her was more than she could stand.

"Stop!" she screamed. "Don't touch me! Don't touch me!"

Clutching the girl in his strong arms, he reached down and tugged at her small leather patch. She could see and feel his blood oozing onto her own body.

"Please!" she cried. "Let go! Don't touch me!"

Breaking loose, the girl quickly ran across the room.

"Stop!" shouted Helena who had been quietly observing the scene. "Let him fuck you!"

"No," the girl sobbed, "I can't!"

"Shut up, you little slut!" screamed Helena. "Let him fuck you!"

"Don't you call me a slut," the girl hissed at her aunt. "Don't you call me a slut!"

"I'll call you any damned thing I want to," replied Helena. "Now lay down and let him screw you!"

"I will not and I'm no slut," sobbed Libby.

"You'll do whatever I tell you, you fuckin' little whore," the woman raged as she viciously slapped the young girl across the face.

"You fuckin' bitch!" shrieked Libby as she grabbed the leather cape and fled from the room.

When she reached her own quarter she bolted her door and quickly turned the water on for a bath. She couldn't wait to wash the vile sticky blood from her body.

Later, as she lay exhausted on her bed, she heard a knock on her door.

"Yes?" she called out.

"It's Aunt Helena," came the reply. "May I please come in?"

"No," was Libby's quick answer.

"Damn it, you little bitch," she screamed, "you let me in!"

"No," was once more the reply.

After a long period of silence, she heard Helena's footsteps disappearing down the corridor. Libby began sobbing into her pillow. When she was finally calmed down, she decided that maybe she had been unfair with her aunt and decided to go to their rooms and apologize. Throwing the leather cloak around her shoulders, she walked slowly down the hall.

Just as she was about to knock on the door, she heard Luke's voice.

"You dumb bitch!" she heard him shout at her aunt. "That little tramp has made over two hundred thousand dollars for us this week, and you had to piss her off."

"Well," shouted Helena, "I'm not taking any back talk from that snot-nosed little slut!"

"You don't have to," he snapped back. "But you don't have to say those things to the dumb little shit's face!"

Libby stood frozen as she heard what they were saying.

"Suppose the little bitch tries to run away?" Luke continued.

"Hell, she won't," Helena laughed. "The little fool thinks she'll be hanged for murder if the police find her."

"Well, I'm not going to take any chances," she heard him reply. "I'm going down and have one of our men guard her door tonight. I sure don't want our million-dollar pussy to run away."

Quickly turning, Libby ran down the hall in the opposite direction of her room. Turning the corner, she tiptoed silently down the stairs to the reception hall. Cautiously she opened the big front door and stepped out into the cool courtyard. Keeping in the shadow of parked cars, she slowly worked her way toward the gate.

She saw the gatekeeper in his booth reading a magazine. Hoping that he would leave his post for a few seconds, Libby huddled in the shadows for over an hour. When she saw the man turn his back to answer the phone, she made a wild dash for the gate. Quickly lifting the heavy latch, she slipped through and disappeared down the lane.

She had only gone a few yards when she heard loud voices and shouting as lights began coming on all over the Temple building. She realized that her escape had been discovered and she turned from the lane, plunging into the thick brush and trees.

Slowly she worked herself through the undergrowth toward the sea that she could hear breaking on the surf below her. The night was cool with a damp mist blowing in off the ocean. She pulled the leather cloak around her bare body to keep out some of the night chill.

Finally reaching the sandy stretch of beach, Libby quickly ducked behind some brush when she heard the sound of laughing voices directly in front of her. Crouching in the darkness, she could barely see a group of people sitting on blankets around a small campfire.

Peering over the brush, she was startled to hear a voice right behind her.

"Hi there," spoke the voice of a young man.

"H-H-Hello," she stuttered, pulling the cloak tighter around her body.

"What the hell you doing out here alone?" he asked.

"Taking a walk," she shivered.

"Do you always walk bare-assed?" he laughed.

"No," she replied.

"You better come down by the fire and get warm," he grinned, taking her by the arm.

When Libby was seated on the blanket, the boy indicated the group with his hands. "This is Turk, that's Patty, this is Frankie, and I'm Whirley Bird."

"Hello," she smiled at the group. "I'm Libby." Whirley Bird poured some wine into a paper cup and handed it to her. "Here, take this, it might warm you up."

"You some kind of a leather freak?" asked the boy called Turk.

"What's it to you?" snapped Patty. "If leather's her bag, that's her business."

Not bothering to answer, Libby sipped on her wine.

"Who the hell's that?" muttered Frankie as they saw two figures running across the sand toward the fire.

"Please don't let them find me," Libby whispered, slinking down on the blanket. Turk quickly threw another blanket over her and placed wine bottles and a cardboard carton against it to disguise the figure underneath.

"Hello there!" shouted one of the men as they drew closer. "Have you seen a young girl down here on the beach?"

"Yeah," giggled Turk. "We got a young girl here with us. You want her?"

When the men stepped up to the fire, he pointed to Patty. "Here she is."

"No." Libby recognized Uncle Luke's voice. "Have you seen a young girl running around bare-assed with only boots and a leather cape?"

"Shit, man," laughed Turk, "this grass is pretty good stuff, but it sure hasn't made us see any little moon Goddesses."

"Are you sure?" the other man continued.

"You must be some kind of nut," grinned Frankie. "If some bare-assed little chick ran down the beach, don't you think we'd be sure?"

"Well, thanks just the same," mumbled Luke as they turned and walked back down the beach.

"Thank you," whispered Libby when she crawled out from under the blanket.

"Are you in deep trouble?" asked Patty.

"Yeah, sorta," Libby replied. "I've just got to get away from here, and I haven't anything except this fuckin' G-string, boots and cape."

They laughed sympathetically with the frightened young girl.

"Have you any place to go?" Turk asked her. "No, not really," was her reply. "Hell, why don't you crash with us in our pad for a while?" suggested Frankie.

"Sure, honey, why not?" smiled Patty.

"Well," Libby hesitated.

"Do you like to fuck?" Whirley Bird kidded. "Shit yes, I love it," Libby giggled far the first time.

"That's our kind of girl," smiled Turk to the group. "Let's get little Miss Leatherpuss out of here before those guys come back."

The group of young people was quite high when they reached their pad in San Francisco. Libby enjoyed the ride in Turk's old battered van, and she liked her new-found friends. She especially liked Patty, who appeared to be in her early twenties. She had long blonde hair and a ready smile that revealed strong white teeth sparkling against her deeply tanned face.

Turk, who wore shoulder-length black hair and a beard, appeared to be in his late twenties. It didn't take Libby long to find out that he was the perpetual comic of the crowd. He kept them laughing most of the way home.