J. Gonzalez - Survivor

Thank you: Dave Nordhaus for taking the bait the first time with Maternal Instinct, and Shane Ryan Staley for pulling it off; to Bill Relling and Bob Strauss for the editorial support when I needed it. The biggest thanks go to Gilbert Schloss for coming to the rescue when nobody would step up to the plate.

The following people also need to be thanked for various reasons, primarily for their friendship and support during the writing of this novel; in some cases for sending me money when I needed it or for providing technical support; in others, for their sheer wonderfulness: Cathy and Hannah, Joe and Lucy Becker, Jesus and Glenda Gonzalez; Gary Zimmerman and Bonesaw; Sean Wallace, Mary Wolf, Brian Hopkins; Matt Schwartz, Del and Sue Howison; Ramona Pearce and Salpy Manjikian; Trish Chervenak, Wrath James White, and Khaled Hosseini, MD, for providing me with answers to my questions as they pertained to their individual fields (and I hope I didn't mess up too badly); the California Highway Patrol and LAPD; Andrew Vachss and the Zero; Monster.com; the city of Las Vegas and the Luxor Hotel; John Graff; Kevin Johnson, Gord Rollo, Garrett Peck, and Brian Keene for their support and friendship; to Coop for helping stage the first "antireading"; and for my readers who believe in me.

A tip of the hat to G. Hof, Zack Venable, and Buddy Martinez for inspiration they never could have imagined. And to Zack, Richard Long, Angel Garcia, Justin Grave, and William Smith-any longtime buddies and partners in crime. Your secret's safe with me.

October 5, 1955

Lititz, Pennsylvania

Their neighborhood was deserted. Nobody had seen her get off the school bus at the corner of Lincoln and Elm on the outskirts of town, heading toward Rothsville Road. Bonnie Febray clutched her books to her chest, her skirt flapping against her shapely legs as she commenced her walk home. The autumn wind blew brittle leaves along the sidewalk, and she could sense the approach of fall as the skin along her arms rose to goose pimples at the sudden cold. She hugged herself. Football season was already well under way, and it was going to be a good year. She was head cheerleader this year at Warwick High School, she was dating Richard Swiegert, star quarterback of the team, and this was her senior year.

I'm on top of the world!

Traffic along Rothsville Road was light. There was a small development, about a half a mile from the White Swan restaurant, where Rothsville Road curved into Newport Road, and that is where she had gotten off. She lived just four blocks down Elm Street, the direction in which she was headed now. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was three-thirty PM. Mom was supposed to be at Kenny's game this afternoon; they were playing Cocalico in the Middle-School Division. They would get home about the same time Dad arrived home from work at Armstrong, and by then Bonnie would be home, clothes changed, showered and fresh, the smell of sweat and sex scrubbed off her. She felt her skin flush with excitement and a rising sense of shame as she drew closer to her destination. She cast furtive glances around the neighborhood. Bobby Martin and his snot-nosed friends from up the street weren't playing on their front porch-that was a good thing. She paused as she approached her home, looking around to see if anybody was around. She was fairly confident no one was paying attention to her, so she quickly walked past her house and darted up the sidewalk, heading to the Smith house, a cute brick home with a porch swing on the covered porch.

She darted up the steps to the porch and knocked on the wooden screen door. Her heart was pounding. Her stomach fluttered. Nerves. She didn't dare risk glancing back over her shoulder. There was really no reason to be ashamed. If anybody asked, she would simply explain that Mabel wanted her to stop by and help her with the bake sale that the First Methodist church was having next Sunday. It was true; Mabel had asked her to help her prepare a batch of chocolate-chip cookies and a cake two weeks ago. Bonnie had run to the store for ingredients while Mabel took her kids, a son and a daughter, to the Lititz Recreation Center. That's how it had started.

Now they were lovers.

Footsteps approached from behind the door and Bonnie felt her stomach sink further into nervous despair. When it swung open, revealing Mabel's blond, slender figure, Bonnie smiled. "Hi! Um, I can't stay long, but-"

"Come on in." Mabel smiled as she opened the door, and Bonnie quickly scampered inside.

Behind closed doors, they embraced. Kissed. Tingles of quivery sensation raced up and down Bonnie's spine. She felt her nipples harden. Why can't Richard make me feel like this? she thought as Mabel's hands and tongue explored her mouth, her breasts.

Mabel smiled at her between kisses. -ibis is surprising. I wasn't expecting to see you today."

Bonnie smiled, the shame and embarrassment of what she was involved with-and with an older woman!rising to the surface. "I was thinking about you at school."

"That's nice."

Bonnie kissed her. "l don't have much time."

Mabel took the girl's hands and pulled her toward the rear of the house, toward the basement. "You've come just in time. I've got something to show you"

"What?" For the first time, Bonnie noticed that beneath the red bathrobe Mabel was nude. Had she been playing with herself before Bonnie showed up?

"A new game" Mabel pushed the door to the basement open and smiled. "Come. You'll enjoy it"

Bonnie followed Mabel down the wooden stairs to the dimly lit basement. It was finished, but crudely so. The walls had been finished with rough concrete, wooden beams exposing bare insulation along the ceiling. The rear of the basement had a dirt floor, and it was here where Mabel was leading her. There was some kind of weird contraption on the dirt floor… it looked like a mishmash of black rope and silver chains.

Mabel led her to the strange contraption and smiled. She motioned toward it. "Let's get you out of those clothes."

Bonnie began slipping out of her skirt and blouse, eyeing the bundle of leather on the floor. "You're not going to whip me again, are you?"

"No, silly! It's a bondage harness."

Bonnie slipped out of her bra, her perky breasts firm and supple. She kicked her shoes off and hesitated before pushing her panties down her legs. Mabel had slipped out of her robe and Bonnie saw that she had, indeed, been engaged in pleasuring herself. The skin along the back of the older woman's upper thighs and buttocks was bright red. Flagellation had been the first thing Mabel had introduced the younger girl to, and Bonnie found that she had actually enjoyed it.

"Let me help you slip into this," Mabel said.

Bonnie stood still while Mabel trussed her up. She wound the leather straps around her waist and hips, then around her legs, binding them together. Another strap was wound up between her legs to another series of crisscrossing straps that bound her arms up. Mabel raised Bonnie's arms above her head, securing them together. Then she attached a metal ring to a section of the strap that lashed her wrists together, and another that bound her ankles. She helped lower Bonnie to the dirt floor. Bonnie felt the cold dirt along her ass as she waited, her excitement rising as she watched Mabel secure both ends of the harness to metal hooks in the ceiling. Then she began hoisting her up off the floor.

Bonnie grinned as her body rocked to and fro. They had played a similar game before in the bedroom Mabel shared with her husband, only instead the older woman had tied Bonnie to the bed. Are we going to-"