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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
LABORS OF LOVE
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Chapter Eight
She felt safe and protected in his arms. Even though she shouldn�t
have, she supposed, since she was kidnapped, according to the tabloids,
and he was the man who had taken her. They embraced behind the bait and
tackle shop. He was leaning back against the driver�s side of the car and
she was standing on tip-toe, kissing him. The trees of the forest stood all
around them. A big river was nearby and they�d crossed over it. She could
hear the roar of it in the distance.
He ran his fingers through her hair. It was soft and lovely again,
after he�d cum in it and she�d washed it, and now he felt himself harden in
his trousers and he wanted to cum all over her pretty little head again.
But even kissing, they had to be watchful. In the bait and tackle
shop there had been a pile of newspapers and one had her photo in it. �Girl
Disappears--Stranger Abduction Suspected!� the headline blared. She
stared out from the photo. It was her 6th grade photo and she looked
especially young, not the budding (if petite) woman he now held in her
arms.
�Why did you have to miss your seventh grade class photo?� he asked
her. He hugged her and ran his hands along the curve of her waist. He
knew the satin skin that lay underneath her sweater and he longed to lift
her sweater, to tear it off her, and to suckle her young tits and kiss her
belly and to pump her full with his seed. Only the fact they were in public
prevented it. She kissed his nose.
�I was mad, although I told my mom I was sick,� she confided.
�But now it looks like I�ve taken some little girl,� he protested.
�Well, I didn�t know you at the time, dear,� she replied. �Anyways,
if it was my 7th grade photo it would be easier for people to identify me.�
�Oh yeah,� he said. He kissed her lips. He eased her down off him.
�What do you say, Fritos Corn Chips for breakfast. Not bad, eh?�
�It�s a start,� she replied. She seemed supremely happy despite
being in the newspaper and having only Fritos and a Coke for breakfast.
�I don�t want you to break out with acne, though, you�re going to
actually need more than sugar and junk food if you�re going to have nice
big tits to nourish my children with.�
�They�re growing pretty big as it is,� she said, looking down frankly
at her chest. �I didn�t have any a year ago!�
He pulled a pair of sunglasses from the bag of stuff they�d bought in
the bait shop. He slid them onto her face. They were rather large for her
face but they�d been the smallest he could find. She looked like a little
sun-glassed Angel. He wondered if he were the Devil.
�Wear these, okay? You should be less noticed in these.� Then he
pulled out a ball cap and put it on her head. �Al�s Bait,� the hat said, in
big red letters across the front. Except the Al�s was stitched in cursive,
while the word �Bait� was in big capital letters. He fitted the cap to her
and then she reached up and turned the hat around, so that the bill stuck
out behind her.
�I feel like a wanted woman,� she purred. She kissed him on his
chest. He was wearing a checked shirt that belonged to the man who
owned the cabin they were staying in. He would have worn the man�s jeans
also but the seat was way too large for him. She wore a pink sweater
owned by the man�s blonde 12-year-old daughter. And she wore a dress
that had belonged to the girl, a nice short one that showed off Ginger�s
lean coltish legs.
�God, you�re beautiful,� Chip said. He ran his fingers through her
long hair. She�d left it free for him, which was helpful, since she
definitely looked underage when she put it in pigtails.
�Now I don�t recall a brother and sister ever kissing like that!� a
voice said.
Ginger froze. Chip felt a chill run down his spine. He turned his head
and saw the man who owned the Bait shop, Al himself, standing in the
doorway. The man was fat and bald and had looked so sleepily engaged in a
book on trains that neither of them had considered him much of a worry.
Of course, Chip reminded himself, he�d promised himself that he and
Ginger wouldn�t kiss in public, but it had just been one quick kiss, a kind
of congratulatory kiss between them that they�d gotten in and out of the
shop okay, and then it had turned to spontaneous kissing, without either of
them even realizing it until he finally eased her off him.
�We... uh... haven�t seen each other in a long time,� Chip said. And
then he realized it was quite useless to try to explain anything anymore,
because the man was eyeing Ginger with a suspicious look on his face.
Chip considered his surroundings. He was in the woods, with only a
small diner nearby, and a few homes up the road. He�d seen two cars
parked down by the river and he�d seen some men sitting near them,
casting their lines into the river. He�d been taught in the Army how to
kill, and they�d instructed him how to do it behind enemy lines, and it had
been a �no questions asked� kind of thing.
�If you�re seen, kill them!� the instructor had boomed at him. The
man had been in �Nam and he�d boasted of killing men, women, and children.
Chip moved swiftly. He didn�t even think. He grabbed the man and he
jerked his head hard and the next thing he knew the man was lying dead on
the ground with a broken neck.
�Chip!� Ginger gasped.
�Sorry,� Chip said to her. He gazed down at the man. He felt an
anger within himself dissipating. He turned to Ginger. �I never did that
before, honest!� he told her. Ginger was gasping. Her knees were bent and
she had both her hands clapped to her face over her mouth. He was glad
she�d turned the ball cap around, otherwise �Al�s Bait� would have stared
out from above her gasping face, the letters big and bright and red.
�We have a slight problem,� Chip mused, looking again at Al,
worthless in life but now worth something in death, at least when it came
to getting Chip a free ride on a gurney into a lethal injection chamber. He
half expected Ginger to say, �What do you mean we, White Man?� but
instead his little Tonto crept slowly over to him and finally grabbed his
thigh and wrapped both her arms around it.
�Shit! Someone�s coming!� Chip suddenly said. There was the sound
of a car approaching. He considered his options at the lightning speed that
only a 21-year-old�s mind possesses, and then only if it�s honed in the
United States Army. Leaning down, he placed Al�s hands over his stomach.
He adjusted the man�s head so he looked, semi-plausibly, like he might be
sleeping. The ground was bare earth and it was unlikely a man would
simply lie down at mid-day, but Chip had no extra time to drag the body
away or give it any accessories, like a pillow or blanket.
�Quick! Inside!� Chip said. Ginger seemed to want to run to the car
but she was only 12 years old, not a soldier like he was. He grabbed her
and pulled her inside the small side doorway that Al had used to make his
final exit from the store.
�Afternoon!� a man said brightly, coming into the store. �Got any
bait?�
�Jail or fish bait?� Chip asked swauvely, sitting idly behind the
counter, a book about trains in his hands.
�Ha! Some joker. Hear about that girl who got kidnapped this
morning?� the man said. He browsed around, looking at the rack of Fritos,
the soda fountain.
�Damn if I haven�t,� Chip replied. �Been reading about trains. Perty
interesting, though I�d not read anything about them before,� he added
hastily. Last thing he needed was to appear a fan of trains, and have the
visitor be some train spotting fanatic.
�Damn perverts! Can�t control themselves, that�s what it is!� the
customer declared. �How�s Al doing today?�
Chip felt a deep ice-cold fear freeze his bowels.
�Al�s, uh, out today,� Chip said. �Goin� fishin�?�
�Well, I only get up here once a year, so give him my regards, eh?
Got anything for Bass?� the man said.
Chip had never fished in his life and had no fucking idea what Bass
needed, or Trout, unless it was the little trout he�d told to keep out of
sight in the back of the store.
�Well now what kind of Bass would you be wanting to fry?� he asked.
�I don�t know, but I am hungry,� the man said.
Chip looked at the book on trains in his hands. An idea, that. If he
could learn to fish maybe he and Ginger could live in the woods forever,
and never visit any damn fucking stores again with old men who sat around
in them all day waiting to ask nosy questions.
�Well, Al just told me watch the place,� Chip replied. �Pick out
what you want from the flies and stuff and I�ll ring it up for you. Ten
percent off today.�
�Really?� the man asked. His eyes brightened.
�Nah,� Chip said. He realized he�d made a mistake there. �Just
hoping you�ll hurry. This book�s damn interesting.�
�Hey, I sure don�t want to bother you,� the customer agreed. He
picked up the newspaper that had Ginger�s photograph in it. �I�ll just take
a paper, some Fritos, get me some soda and these lures look good here.
Fish are down in the river, as they say.�
The man placed some things on the counter and then went and filled
up a large cup of soda and then sipped it down some and then added more
soda and put on the plastic top.
�Let�s see,� Chip mused over the items the man had selected. He had
no idea what they were actually supposed to cost. There were no prices on
any of them and nothing was posted in the store. �Um, 65 cents I�d say for
the Fritos, and the paper, well, lemmee see, okay it says 50 cents for that,
and I guess the soda is a dollar,� Chip said. Then he realized he had no
idea how to ring up the cash register. He looked at the keys, guessed, hit
them in order, making the soda 75 cents, because he�d forgotten he said
65, but the man didn�t notice or didn�t mind and Chip hit the Total key on
the register.
�You forgot the lures,� the man said.
�Oh yeah those,� Chip said. Now he was really in over his head. How
the fuck much were lures supposed to cost? $1.99? $5.99? He decided to
err on the side of cheapness and punched in $1.99 for all of them. This
was getting difficult, he realized.
�$10.49?!� the customer blurted.
�Well, uh,� Chip said.
�You were kidding about ten percent off, eh? These two lures here
are more like 50 percent off!�
�I felt I was rude asking you to hurry,� Chip said with as serious a
look on his face as he could possibly muster. �I�m sorry, and I wanted to
do right by you by halving the price.�
�Well, thanks!� the customer replied. He gave Chip the money and
Chip took it and put it in the register and bagged the man�s lures for him,
and his paper and fritos.
�You be rude to me more often, hear?� the man asked, heading for the
door, taking the paper from the bag and stuffing it under his arm.
�Sure thing,� Chip smiled. And he felt very glad it had all worked,
for if it hadn�t, he wouldn�t have had to be rude to the man. He would have
had to kill him.
Chip listened as the car drove away.
Ginger crept out from her hiding place.
�Is he gone?� she asked.
�Yeah, but we�re goners, I�m afraid,� Chip answered. He looked at
her. �I have no idea what to do now,� he said.
�Let�s play store,� she said brightly. And she was quite serious, he
saw. �We could live in the cabin and come down here every day and make
money selling people stuff.�
�And what about Al?� Chip asked.
�Oh yeah,� Ginger said. Her eyes widened. �Well, Al can be on a
vacation!�
�Just like that?� Chip asked.
�Yes, he went down the river,� Ginger said brightly. �And a fish ate
him.�
�You�ll make a marvelous Miss Marple someday,� Chip told her. She
stared at him with her pink sweater and her pert breasts swelling up, her
hair free and her cheeks rosy. For a moment some devil deep within him,
some devil he didn�t even know existed, perhaps some devil that had only
been awakened when he killed Al, told him to kill her and to run like Hell
and to never look back and to kill anyone he ever encountered. He could be
a killing machine, like the Army had briefly trained him to be, until they
thought better of it and transferred him to Supply, when the unit he was in
was downsized. And then, after that, the Army being what it was, they�d
transferred him to Morale and Welfare. He�d joined the Army to drive a
tank but he�d found himself racking up cue balls for sergeants in the Rec
hall instead.
�Okay, look, we�ve got a problem,� Chip said. He led her out back to
Al�s body and he stared at the body. She didn�t like looking at it but he
made her look at it because he felt it was partly her fault that Al was
lying there, even though none of the feminists, or probably anyone else, for
that matter, would have agreed with him on that particular point. If
indeed anyone was agreeing with him at all anymore.
�Al, YOU are a problem,� Chip finally said, and pointed at him. He
hoped his levity would impress Ginger but it didn�t. On the other hand, she
was still with him, and he�d killed off the devil, at least for now, who�d
told him to do in her and everyone else he met in the world.
They sailed along under the trees. The leaves overhead were green
and their shadows passed over the windshield of his Camaro. The forest
was growing dark. They�d put Al in a plastic bag and they�d dumped him
into the river from the middle of the bridge, hoping no one was looking.
Chip had raked away his tire tracks from the dirt and gravel of the parking
lot and then he�d put his plan to work to blow up the bait shop. He�d hoped
to find some gasoline in the bait shop but then he�d found an old electrical
generator too, and it occurred to him that someone like Al might just
accidentally let the generator and the gasoline get too close, and a spark
from the generator might blow the gasoline.
But Chip couldn�t find a way to make the whole thing an accident and
finally, after being at the bait shop an hour, and scared to death he�d be
seen by another customer, he put a �Closed� sign on the outside of the
shop and did his best to wipe down anything and everything inside the shop
he could have possibly touched. Then he and Ginger had walked from the
shop, she going first, he going after, stepping in her footprints to make
them bigger and to erase any sign of her presence. He�d already done his
best to get her footprints out of the parking lot and he hoped they were
free of the place forever. Hair samples might be found, but that would
only happen if people asked questions and someone showed up who wanted
to call Al�s disappearance a murder and go looking for hair samples at that
level of detail.
�Now watch Al bobs up in the river tomorrow,� Chip said.
�We put rocks in the bag. And he�s fat, anyways,� Ginger chirped.
Her head was between his legs. She was nibbling on his penis. He was
painfully erect again, despite all they�d been through. She nuzzled his
crotch and he felt guilty, stealing her from her home, fucking her brains
out, then killing a man and now driving who knew where with her, the two
of them speculating on the morbid possiblities of a body dumped in the
river, Mafia style. At least the man had been dead when they put him into
the drink.
�Ow!� Chip groaned. Ginger was chewing his penis now. Perhaps
their conversation was worrying her. Gently he reached down and eased
his fingers around her neck. He lifted her face up.
�My penis is not a toy for your amusement,� he told her. �I do
actually use it for other things.�
�I know, peeing on me,� she said. She giggled and stroked his cock.
Chip wondered if he�d ever peed on her. The thought excited him.
�Just for that I�m going to, tonight, when we get someplace we can
stay,� he said.
�Oooh, yuck,� Ginger replied. But she kept playing with his dick,
using her fingers to stroke and pet him, lying across the front seat of his
Camaro, not minding the stick shift that butted up against her belly.
�I�m serious!� Chip said. He was delighted to have Al slipping
momentarily from his mind. �I�m going to pee on you tonight. I�m going to
wet all over you.� Ginger laughed and looked a little disturbed at the
prospect, but she kept teasing his cock with her fingers. They were
lovers. They might have all the world against them, they might have killed
an old fart who ran a bait and tackle shop, but they still loved each other
and it was their Time, their moment on the earth together. Nothing could
take that from them, not now, not yet.
The motel was better than Chip had expected. He had, after all, some
money now, thanks to dear old Al. He hoped when someone eventually
inquired into why Al had closed up his shop during the fishing season they
would check the register and declare it a robbery, not a murder. But Chip
knew eventually they�d declare it a murder, but it would take more time
after that for them to actually check under the middle of the bridge,
where they�d dumped Al, and Chip had put lots of little holes in Al�s bag to
invite fish in to see him while he lay in his watery grave.
Al, killer of fish, now fed them at the bottom of the river. The bait
Al now provided had no hooks in it. Just a needle for Chip if he were ever
connected to Al.
Chip had been seen, of course, and that was an extreme problem, but
he hoped somehow the man who�d seen him wouldn�t get caught up in the
thing. Chip stood in front of a mirror carefully shaving off his several
days� growth of beard. He was wearing his own shirt again, and his own
pants. They�d returned everything to the cabin where they�d stayed and
spent an hour there trying to erase all sign of their visit. The sheets had
been stained from their lovemaking and they�d changed them and taken the
used sheets with them, hoping their loss wasn�t missed, replacing the
used sheets with new ones from a linen closet. They�d put the bottle of KY
back in the bathroom cabinet and hoped the fact that it contained less
wasn�t noticed. Of course, when the bathroom and sink taps were turned
on, the water would be suspiciously pure and clear and clean when it first
spilled out. But maybe the daughter or son would turn them on, while the
parents were busy unpacking their car, and not take note of the fact that
someone had cleared the taps.
With luck, it all just might work, but Chip prayed he didn�t have to
kill anyone else. He vowed to get a haircut first thing in the morning. A
buzz cut, like he�d had in the Army. Then the stranger who�d been in Al�s
store would be a long-haired, unshaven suspect, while Chip himself was a
cleanshaven, crew cut, God-fearing man, with, albeit, a 12-year-old
girlfriend. Well, the customer hadn�t seen her. Only Al had. And now Al
was fish bait.
�Give me your pants. I need to take them down the hall and wash
them,� Ginger told him. She was dressed in her schoolgirl�s skirt and
blouse. She had no other clothes. Chip turned from the mirror and looked
at her. A man didn�t like giving up his pants.
�What, are you going to take your clothes off too?� he asked.
�No, silly.� She put out her hand expectantly. �You�re going to strip
and I�m going to wash your clothes, and then I�m going to strip and you�re
going to wash my clothes!� She smiled at him. A Pumpkin smile, like Al
Bundy�s daughter gave her husband, bright, unknowing. Except in this case,
although Chip didn�t like doing laundry and he hated taking off his only pair
of pants, her plan seemed to make some sense.
�Can�t we just wear our same clothes �til tommorrow?� he asked.
�We�re not going around in dirty clothes,� Ginger said. �I can wash
yours and you can wash mine. Simple.� She smiled again and waited, hand
outstretched.
�I�m still going to pee on you later tonight,� he warned her.
�Boys will be boys,� she replied equanimitously. �Your pants,
darling.�
�I feel like I�m fucking married!� Chip said angrily. He unzipped
himself and yanked down his trousers.
�Maybe you are,� Ginger said with sparkling, mischievous eyes.
�Except I can�t legally marry a 12-year-old, and so, naturally, I can�t
divorce you either!� Chip said sourly.
�Tut! Tut! You should have thought of that before you picked me up
at school,� Ginger replied. He handed her his pants. �Underwear too,� she
said. �And your shirt.�
Chip lay on their bed buck naked. He looked at his dick standing up
like a fencepost between his legs. He�d wanted to fuck her the minute
they�d arrived, like a teenager, but she, perhaps growing up too fast now,
like a decorous wife, had insisted on other things, like laundry. He felt
cold. He wanted to get under the covers but she�d told him he had to
shower first if he did that. He was beginning to feel like her prisoner.
Here he was, in some motel room, naked, while she was down the hall
primly doing their laundry. He prayed to God no one took much notice of
the fact that she was wearing her schoolgirl clothes at 9 o�clock at night.
And of course the motel manager wasn�t aware of her, so that was a
problem too, for Chip had checked in asking for a single. God knows he
would have loved to pay the man for a double, since the bedroom did have
two beds in it, but then there would have been questions. The �sister�
thing hadn�t worked too well before. Chip didn�t need any more dead Als on
his hands.
�I�m back,� Ginger said. She slipped inside. He gazed at her. They�d
only use one bed tonight, of that he was sure. �Don�t worry, nobody saw
me,� she said. �Anyways they�d probably think I belonged in someone
else�s family.�
�Let�s hope so,� Chip replied.
�That�s what I�d say, you know,� she said. �I�m with the family
down the hall.� She pointed, vaguely. She seemed to enjoy the conspiracy
of it all. �Not with the killer in room 109.�
�Thanks,� Chip said. �I needed that.�
She stepped over to the bed. �Your penis looks like it needs to go to
the bathroom,� she said.
�No, it just needs to fuck you,� Chip told her.
�Well, it�ll just have to wait. I�m doing laundry right now,� she said.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and gently stroked him. His erection
looked huge against her small little fingers. The fingernail polish was
still half on, half-flaked. He wished she�d rub it off somehow or repaint
her nails. He felt like he was being handled by a little girl in elementary
school. But she was in 7th grade now, he reminded himself. Yes!
�Why does it get so big and stiff all the time?� she asked.
�Because you keep playing with it,� he scolded. Damn girl. He was
feeling hot in his balls now.
�But it was hard when I came in!� she told him.
�Yeah, well, it just stands up, that�s all,� he replied. He looked at
himself. �I have no idea why.�
�Did it ever occur to you that when you leave tomorrow, and the
manager finds a wet spot in the bed, he�ll think you spent the night jacking
off?� she asked.
�Thanks,� Chip said. �First you call me a killer, now a masturbator.�
He grabbed her and rolled her on top of him. She shrieked and then,
quickly, she put her hand over her mouth and he put his hand over her
mouth. They laughed quietly together.
�You�re a big bad killer on the loose,� she told him.
�Don�t provoke me,� he answered.
�Now how will people buy bait?� she asked him.
�Maybe they�ll find it in some motel room,� he said. �Did you get rid
of that ball cap like I told you to?�
�Yes, I threw it in the woods when you let me out to pee back there,
in the forest,� she said.
�Good,� he answered. �Now let�s learn to pray, okay? God bless us
and may I never have to kill anyone ever again, including the operator of
this motel and everyone staying here tonight.�
�A big job, since you�ve got no gun,� she answered.
�Yeah,� he said. And he lay there, on the bed, unarmed, with a little
12-year-old girl in his arms, still in her school girl�s uniform, and
himself quite naked, with an annoying erection sticking up between her
bare legs.
She knelt dutifully in the shower. She was small and soft and he�d
scrubbed her clean, and she�d washed him, and their clean clothes were
neatly folded on a chair by the bed. Her hair was brown and she�d tied it
up into twin pigtails with pink bows. She�d put on some of her Cotton
Candy Lipsmacker lipstick that she kept in her purse. Her ears had never
been pierced and he realized, as he stood over her, that one of his
responsiblities would be to hold her hand someday soon while she got
them pierced, for she was getting taller and more bosomy and she needed
to have her ears pierced if she was going to wear earrings.
He stood over her. His cock throbbed. Although they�d played and
scrubbed each other in the shower together they�d refrained from �doing
it,� and now she knelt under him waiting for him to pee.
�You�re nasty,� she told him. She looked at him with serious wide
brown eyes, her eyes deep pools of pure innocence.
�I know,� he answred.
�But I�m all ready for BED!� she protested.
�You can rinse off afterward,� he told her. �I won�t mind if there�s a
still a little pee on you when you climb into bed with me.�
�I will!� she declared.
�Don�t scream too loudly when I piss on you,� he said.
�Then don�t do it,� she replied. The tub had been wiped dry with a
towel. He wanted everything perfect. She knelt with her hands drawn
back, playing with her toes as she sat on her heels.
�If you think you�re going to scream I�m going to have to gag you,� he
told her.
�Then do it, because I�ll scream otherwise,� she told him frankly.
�I wish we had a dungeon like before,� he said, turning away, and
then suddenly he whirled about again and they both looked at each other.
�YES!� they said in unison.
�I�ll have to fuck her,� he told Ginger.
�That�s okay,� she replied, twisting her mouth a little, showing she
didn�t really like the thought of it but was willing to live with it. �Just
wear a condom,� she added.
�Yeah,� he said. He was heady with the thought of their freedom.
�Let�s go now,� he said. �I feel up to it, don�t you?�
�Yes!� she darted from the tub.
They drove all night. He decided it had been a good idea, for it would
keep them out of sight during the day. Next morning he checked into
another motel and they were so exhausted that they simply slept. When
they awoke he peed in the toilet and then she peed, and then they returned
to bed and they fucked. This time they did it a novel way, both facing each
other, with her sitting up and him sitting up, but both of them leaning
back, supporting their weight on their hands as they faced each other.
Only their genitals touched, except for the brushing and occasional
clamping of their knees and legs against each other�s hips. They stared at
each other and communicated through their loins. Chip wished they were
outdoors and could look up at the sky once in a while, but they weren�t, so
they simply stared at each other, or tossed their heads back and stared at
the yellow-painted ceiling above them. When at last he ejaculated in her
they got up and went to the shower. He made her kneel and he gave her a
golden shower of pee. Then he sat down on the porcelain and she crouched
over him and spread her lips and she peed on the penis he�d used to wet
her. Then they both rose, and turned on the water, and washed each other.
At sunset they pulled up in front of the bordello. He�d whipped her
here, mercilessly, and now they were back again. But it was different
now, because they were on their own. And, more importantly, they were
seeking refuge.
Chip knocked. Kimber appeared at the door. He could hear a party
going on inside.
�Oh! I wasn�t expecting you,� Kimber said to Chip. She looked at
Ginger. �...two.� She added. Then she looked at Chip again. Her hair was
close, too close to her face, and she would have normally tossed it back
from her eyes but she didn�t.
�You stole her, didn�t you?� Kimber asked Chip.
�No, she came of her own will,� Chip said.
�I mean, according to the law, you stole her,� Kimber said. She
looked briefly at Ginger and then back at Chip.
�It�s okay, I�ll fuck you,� Chip said. He felt a sense of desperation
growing within him.
Kimber smiled. It was a tired smile, the smile of a woman who was
much older than himself or Ginger, in experience if not in years. �Come
in,� she said.
They stepped inside the bordello. Ginger, being 12, turned toward
the room where the party was. Kimber reached out and stopped her.
�No darling. They�re policemen,� she told the girl.
A whoop went up.
�God Damn!� a man�s voice yelled. Chip heard a woman shriek, as if
her clothes were being pulled off. �And God Bless the State of Neeevada!�
the man hollared.
�Even if they weren�t policemen, she�s probably the best known face
in America right now,� Kimber said to Chip. She led them further down
the hall and into a bedroom and closed the door.
�It�s that bad?� Chip asked.
�It�s not Polly Klaas,� Kimber said. She looked at the floor, figeted
with her fingers. Ginger clasped Chip�s hand, squeezed it. Chip heard
himself swallow.
�So, like, what�s happened?� Chip asked.
�Her parents haven�t said too much,� Kimber said. She looked
accusingly at Ginger. �I think maybe your mom and dad had a hunch you
weren�t just stolen outright from your bedroom,� she said. Ginger looked
innocently up at Kimber.
�Maybe Annette said something to them,� Chip said half-hopefully.
Of course, how much could she say? She couldn�t just come out and say,
�Hi! Don�t worry! Your daughter lost her cherry to him and now I think he�s
the one who stole your daughter. But don�t worry, he�s an okay guy, he�s
just into kinky sex like me and my husband are.� No, that wasn�t possible.
Ginger�s mom and dad didn�t even know Annette and Dave did the kinky sex
thing.
�How about me? Am I on the news?� Chip asked.
�No,� Kimber said. �But there�s a very good description of you.
Apparently you weren�t unknown to this Little Miss�s friends.�
�Oh yeah,� Chip replied.
Kimber bent down and looked Ginger straight in the eye. �I need to
know something, woman to woman,� Kimber said. �I may as well call you
a woman, since you are, dear, whether you like it or not, with your cherry
popped and all.� She looked at Ginger hard. �Did you ever tell any of my
friends about my bordello? Because if you did, you can�t stay here.
They�ll come looking here, and they�ll find you if you are here, because
they�ll turn the place upside down.�
Ginger gulped. There was silence in the room.
�A little,� she finally said.
�Shit!� Kimber leapt to her feet and swore. �Little bitch!� she
hissed under her breath at Ginger.
�I didn�t... say it was a bordello...� Ginger said. �I just said we
kissed...� she let her voice trail off.
�That�s all?� Kimber asked.
�Yes,� Ginger said.
Kimber slowly let out her breath. She turned to Chip. �When I let
you in before, I didn�t ask any questions. I like being like that, free with
myself and with other people. But now she�s hot as a little red tomato,
and as you can hear the local police are right down the hall, enjoying
themselves. And it�s not a greased-palm thing, either. Visiting a
brothel�s legal in Nevada.�
�I know,� Chip said.
�Alright well you can stay,� Kimber said to them both. She looked
again at Ginger. �But don�t lie to me, Little Miss, because this place isn�t
safe for you to have fun and eat your lollipops if you did tell anyone about
it. Least of all for your boyfriend, here, with his marvelous prick. They�ll
hang him high by it and you�ll never see him again if they come here
looking for you.�
Ginger squeezed Chip�s hand. �I know,� she said. �I�ll be quiet.�
Kimber looked at Chip. �I could get a lot of money for her,� she told
him.
�No way,� Chip answered. �You get me. That�s it.�
�For both me and my customers,� Kimber said.
�What?!� Chip said. He almost yelled the word, but managed, hearing
the policemen down the hall give another whoop, to somehow restrain
himself. He felt like hitting her.
�Yep.� Kimber said. �You hide out with this hot little Tamale, and
eat my food -- don�t even think about going into town for groceries, Mr.
Most Wanted -- you WORK for your keep. I�m going to do a thriving
business on that glorious big cock of yours and this little lady can have it
when I�m not using it. Okay, Miss?� she turned to Ginger. Her face was
hot and angry. Ginger stared up at her, mouse-like.
�Don�t break it,� Ginger said. �It�s a nice penis, even if he does use
it to pee on me.�
�It won�t get broken,� Kimber said.
Ginger looked at Chip. �Well at least now you have a job,� she said
to him.
�Yeah,� Chip sneered. But the funny thing was, if you�d told him,
when he was in the Army, that he�d be employed to fuck women at a
bordello, he would have whooped with joy. He tried to remember that fact
and keep it in his mind as he contemplated his future.
�And if you ever want to wiggle that darling little ass of yours
around, let me know,� Kimber said to Ginger. �But in the meantime, she�s
hot,� she said, turning again to Chip. �And I couldn�t afford to use her
even if I wanted to.� Kimber poked Chip in his hard, flat stomach with her
polished finger. The nail didn�t have any flake marks on it like Ginger�s
did. �You�ve got to wear a mask,� she said. �You�re going to be Zorro, and
don�t let any of the women pull your mask off, no matter what.�
�Right,� Chip said.
�During the day I want you to work out. There�s a weight bench
downstairs and some weights. And eat. You�ll need it to keep up your
strength during the night. And, when I can manage it, you�ll lie out back,
and keep your tan up, wearing just the skimpiest male bathing suit I can
find for you.� She turned to Ginger. �And you�re going to work too, little
lady,� she said. �He�ll need to be massaged every morning when he�s done.
Just like a horse. You�ll want to oil all of his muscles and rub them down,
and that especially includes his cock.�
�Yes,�m,� Ginger said.
�And he might be too tired to eat, so you be ready to sit on the bed
with him and spoon feed him if he needs it. And then keep your little
mitts off him until nightfall, so he can go back to work again.� Kimber ran
a hand through Ginger�s hair. �Don�t worry. He�s only 21. He�ll have
something for you too with that perpetually hard cock of his, I assure
you.�
And so the long days of summer passed, a summer where Ginger
should have been in school, for she went to a year-round school, but
instead she was a stable girl, and her horse was Chip, the Italian Stallion
as he was called at Kimber�s bordello, though he spoke not a word of
Italian. Ginger spent her days keeping in him top shape for his duties. She
fed him and watered him and sometimes peeked in on him as he
entertained the women. Chip was forced to fuck all kinds of women, all
who came, all who paid. Mostly Ginger thought it was all rather silly,
except when the women were very beautiful, but in the morning Chip
always returned to her, and was Hers alone, though women would have
eagerly paid him to come home with them.
Chip devoted himself to weightlifting and he grew stronger. His
shoulders broadened and his chest deepened and it was thought too that
his penis was strengthened by all his labor. Certainly his self-control
grew and Ginger�s rides on him grew ever more wonderful and arduous as
he was able to hold himself back for longer and longer periods.
Ginger herself also grew and blossomed. There was absolutely
nothing for the two lovers to do except care for each other and each
other�s bodies. Food was provided by Kimber, and drink, and even lollipops,
and they had their own T.V. downstairs that they could watch in their
hours together. At night Chip went to work and in the morning he returned.
They tanned together in the bordello�s backyard, in a private place KImber
provided for them, Chip in a ball-hugger swimsuit and Ginger in a little
bikini.
�You�re beautiful,� Chip said to Ginger, staring at her in the hot
August sun, in Nevada, where it was sunny year round.
�So are you,� Ginger replied. She gazed at him sleepily. She was
wearing a white swimsuit, quite tiny, and he had on a light yellow pair of
swim briefs.
�We are the beautiful people,� Chip said to her.
�I think so,� Ginger replied.
Chip had a glass of lemonade by his chaise-lounge and he reached
down and plucked an ice cube out of it. He leaned over his love and pulled
open her swimsuit. He dropped the ice cube onto her venus mound.
�Oook!� Ginger cried. She leapt up. Chip lay back and grinned at her.
Without taking out the ice cube, Ginger leaned over and picked a cube
out of her own glass. She leaned over him and opened his swimsuit. Chip
felt a breath of warm air enter where his loins were coiled and he felt his
sun-warmed cock stiffen. Ginger deposited her cube on his loins and let
go of his suit. It snapped shut.
�Thanks. I needed that,� Chip said to her.
�I know you did,� she replied. And she lay back and, together, they
both felt their ice cubes melt inside their swimsuits and wet their
privates.
30
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