Salem Valley Chapter Six © 2008 Anais Ninja anais.ninja.asstr@gmail.com anais_ninja@hotmail.com Rita Belmonte, physician's assistant, friend of Dorothy Myers, had taken Naomi and Jael Van Heusen into the home she shared with Sabrina Cohen, RN, who worked at the county hospital with Rita. The women, both in their mid-30s, shared more than a home. They'd been lovers since first meeting five years earlier. Rita found the girls to be well-spoken and polite. She didn't pry into their situation, since she knew her involvement might later lead to depositions and court appearances. The less she knew, the better. But she saw a hint of the situation from which they'd fled when she went through the girls' bags, checking for drugs and weapons, and found lingerie and sleepwear inappropriate for girls aged 13 and 11. Rita and Sabrina had settled the girls in the guest bedroom, a small room off the back hallway that had a bed, dresser, and a small television. Sabrina showed Naomi how to work the remote control and after that there wasn't a peep from the two girls as they avidly surfed from channel to channel. "I guess they don't get cable in that valley," Sabrina said, as she and Rita settled into bed that night. The women only knew the barest facts of where the girls had come from. "I thought they were like Quakers," Rita said. "But the girls' father had a car." Before going to sleep, Rita got up to check on the girls and make sure that they weren't going to be up all night watching TV. As she listened at the door to the guest room, she first thought that the girls had found a porn channel. There were sighs and moans, the rhythmic squeaking of bedsprings. Quietly, she opened the door and saw Naomi and Jael, their faces buried in each other's thighs, licking each other's pussies. Rita closed the door and went back to bed, not even telling Sabrina what she'd seen. Having worked the weekend, Rita had a couple of days off. After Sabrina went off to work her nursing shift, Rita woke the girls and made them breakfast. It wasn't quite farm fresh bacon and eggs, but it was better than that fast food breakfast. Hungry, the girls wolfed down their food and asked for seconds of toast. "Let's see if we can track down your mother," Rita said after breakfast. She brought them to a small room she and Sabrina used for an office, where they studied for board exams and certifications. Rita turned on the laptop. Naomi and Jael had never seen a computer, outside of those they'd seen in movies. "What was your mother's name?" she asked. "Melody Van Heusen," Naomi said. "And her maiden name?" "Johnson." Rita logged into the state medical board's web site and ran a search using both names. "Melody Van Heusen" came up empty, but the maiden name brought up two results. One was a doctor in San Diego, the other a nurse in a town not far from Sacramento. Rita printed out the page and called Dorothy, getting the social worker's voicemail. Since Rita was going to have guests for the next day or two, she needed to do some food shopping. Parking Naomi and Jael in from of the big screen television in the living room, she left for the supermarket. But when she returned, the girls, their clothes, and the station wagon were gone. ~o o~ Hope Cunningham was a rich little girl. Like some of the valley's kids, she earned a meager allowance, in her case $1 per week, which she was encouraged to save for a rainy day, not that there was much to spend it on in Salem Valley. But that morning, Reuben Goodenough, who had a huge crush on her, has asked her to meet him behind the garage next to the school yard before classes began. Once there, he hemmed and hawed, finally offering her $1 to see her pussy. Hope played coy. Not that she didn't like the 12-year-old, though he was certainly no Luke Smith. She'd have shown Reuben her pussy for free. But she knew he had more than $1, considering all the jobs his mother worked, and her faux shyness bumped the price to $2. The money in hand, she pulled up her dress, dropped her panties, and let the boy look at her front and back. So by Salem Valley standards, Hope was richer than most 10-year-old girls. And so she did what she always did when she found money under couch cushions or in the washing machine: she skipped down the town's only sidewalk to Hiram Van Heusen's general store to buy some sweets. School had let out early again because of the search for the Van Heusen girls and she had some time to kill. Hope liked Mr. Van Heusen. He was always very nice to her, giving her extra candy even when she only had a dime or a quarter. She liked the store, too, filled with all sorts of stuff, from food to tools to clothes to toys. It was fun just to read the labels of things, the funny names, pretty logos, and names of far off cities she'd only seen in textbooks. The bells on the door chimed as she entered the shop. Mr. Van Heusen was behind the counter, stocking a little rack with plastic packs of sunflower seeds. He smiled when he saw her. Hope thought he looked tired and felt sorry for him, what with his girls running away and all. "Hello, little lady," he said. "What can I do you for?" Hope giggled at the cliche. "Hi, Mr. Van Heusen," she said, heading for the jars of candy that lined a glass case next to the cash register. "Ah, sweets for the sweet," he said, earning another giggle from Hope. "I'd like some gumballs, please." "How many would milady like?" he asked. She held up five fingers. "Ah, fifty cents worth," Van Heusen said. He took a small brown paper sack from under the counter and counted out five gumballs, dropping in another two for good measure. He brought the candy to the cash register where Hope handed him one of her dollars. "We're in the money, I see," Van Heusen said, operating the old mechanical register. Dropping the dollar in the till, he handed Hope two shiny quarters in change. "Thank you," she said, putting the change in her coat pocket. "Did your daddy raise your allowance?" Van Heusen asked. "No," Hope replied. "Reuben gave me money to show him my pussy." Hiram Van Heusen was left dumbstruck. Immediately, he had a mental image of little Hope lifting her dress for the young boy behind a barn or in some bushes. It was a game he'd played when he was that age, too, in a more innocent time. But back then it was "show me yours and I'll show you mine". No money had changed hands. Hope wondered why the normally garrulous Mr. Van Heusen was now silent, even though his mouth was open. Maybe he felt bad about his girls all of a sudden. Hope wondered about adults sometimes, how they could go from happy to sad just like that. And she'd heard some whispers about Mr. Van Heusen from grown-ups, how he took his daughter's cherry. What was the big deal? Hope's own hymen had been easily broken by her own fingers. Why all the fuss about something so fragile? "I'm not a virgin," Hope said. Maybe he'd feel better if he knew it wasn't such a bad thing that he took Naomi's cherry. "Excuse me?" Van Heusen muttered. Did she say what he thought she said? "I mean, it's not such a big deal," Hope said. "You shouldn't feel bad about it." Maybe she was wrong, Hope thought. Maybe he just misses his girls. "I appreciate your concern, Hope," Van Heusen said. He knew the girl was just trying to express her sympathy over his current situation. "You miss them, don't you," Hope said softly. "That I do," he replied. Now Hope understood. He was lonely. "If you want, you can put it in me," she said. "Pardon me?" Van Heusen said. Did she just offer herself to him? "If it'll make you feel better," Hope said. "Or I can just suck you if you want." She pictured herself sucking on Mr. Van Heusen's cock and she was fine with that. It might cheer him up. Besides, he was a good looking fellow for a man his age, with skin that hadn't been tanned to leather from working in the fields. Van Heusen considered this offer. He'd been certain that his life was over in the valley. Pastor Gilmore had dropped some hints that the town was able to buy out at least his store if not his bank. How could things get any worse? Not that there was anything in the valley's upside-down moral code that would prevent him from this. It happened all the time. With his justifications in place, Hiram Van Heusen came out from behind the counter, put up the "OUT TO LUNCH" sign up on the front door and made sure it was locked. Then he held out his hand for Hope and led her to the back of the store where he kept his office. "Let me take your coat, sweetheart," he said. Hope stuffed her bag of gumballs in the pocket, took off the coat, and handed it to the older man. "Thank you," she said, looking around the small office. There was just enough room for a wooden desk, a high-backed swivel chair, and some filing cabinets. A door in the back of the office opened on a small bathroom. Hiram hung up Hope's coat and sat down in his chair. "Show me how you showed your pussy to Reuben," he said. Hope smiled and reenacted the scene, lifting the hem of her dress and pulling down her panties. She spread her hairless lips with her fingers, then she turned around and bent over, showing the older man her tight little asshole. Van Heusen wondered how many boys -- or men -- had been inside the young girl's little pussy. When Hope turned around, she saw that Mr. Van Heusen had his cock out of his trousers, slowly stroking it as he gazed upon her body. She felt proud that she had this effect on an older man. "Should I suck on it for you?" she asked. Mr. Van Heusen nodded, getting up from his chair and motioning for Hope to take his place. He then leaned on the edge of his desk. Sitting in the chair, her legs dangling, panties still around her thighs, Hope had only to lean forward to put her lips on his penis. It was longer than Luke's, slightly thicker, and with more hair, veins, and ridges. She wrapped her fingers around the shaft, stroking it as she sucked on the head, her little tongue busily swirling over the tip. Van Heusen forgot his cares, his worries. Here was a beautiful little ten-year-old girl with a tongue skilled beyond her years, willingly sucking his cock. He stroked her hair as she chowed down on his penis, her tongue working magic on his cockhead. When he saw Hope start to finger herself, his pleasure began to build, bringing him close to his release. Suddenly, Hope released his cock from her lips and looked up at him. "You can put it in me if you want," she said. "I'd like that," Van Heusen replied. He helped the girl pull off her little dress and lifted her on to the desk. "Can you lick on me first?" Hope asked. "It would be my pleasure," he replied. He slowly drew her little white cotton panties down her thighs and let them dangle from one ankle. Then Van Heusen sat down in his chair and scooted close to the desk, leaning over to kiss her bald mound. Hope lay back as he parted her thighs and began to probe her hairless lips with his tongue. He was much better than Luke, she thought, as he sought out her tiny clit, making it swell, making her tingle and feel all warm down there. She sighed, enjoying the way Mr. Van Heusen was making her feel. She hoped that she'd made him feel good, too. Eating pussy was something Van Heusen had rarely done for his girls, since they seemed to like licking each other's so much. But now, as he licked and nibbled Hope's tiny twat, he regretted not doing it more often. Maybe the girls would have stayed, he thought before banishing such ideas from his mind. He was in love with this girl's delicious little pussy, and things would only get better from here. Hope had never been so skillfully licked. This man knew exactly what to do, how to make her cunny tingle. She felt that good feeling begin to grow, gnawing at her center, spreading through her body and out her limbs. Her toes began to curl inside her shoes as Mr. Van Heusen swirled his tongue over her clit and began to press a finger inside her needy hole. When his finger entered her, she gasped and let out a little moan. Suddenly, like an avalanche rolling down a hill, she began to come, lifting her bottom off the desk and pressing her cunny against Mr. Van Heusen's face. He held her hips, his mouth pressed tightly against her pussy, licking and sucking her tiny cleft until she had to push his head away. Using his finger, Hiram Van Heusen had confirmed that the little girl's hymen was gone. Still, it was going to be a tight fit, but then so was Naomi when he'd started fucking her. He looked at the little girl on his desk, her eyes sparkling, her creamy skin flushed from her orgasm. Now or never. He reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a tube of lubricant. It had been Hiram's habit during lunchtime to masturbate but not come. This served to increase the amount of semen he'd produce later that evening, when he'd spray his load over Naomi's ivory skin. Now he'd put that lubricant to a better use. He dropped his trousers and boxers and unbuttoned his dress shirt. "What's that for?" Hope asked, seeing Mr. Van Heusen apply lube to his cock. "Just to make it go in easier," he replied. Hope nodded. She'd never had anything that thick inside her and hoped that it wouldn't hurt. Mr. Van Heusen poured some of the slick fluid on her cunny lips, too. It was thicker than the goat's semen, but just as slippery. "Let me know if this hurts," Van Heusen said, placing the tip of his cock on Hope's bald mound. She nodded, and then he pressed his cock against her little pussy, parting the slickened lips. As the tip of his penis entered the girl's immature passage, Van Heusen felt it stretch to accomodate his member. Hope gasped as he entered her, but she didn't cry out or pull back. Instead, she rolled her hips, letting his cock fill her tight little hole. "How's that feel, sweetie?" Van Heusen asked. "Wow, so big," Hope said. "Better than the goat." Van Heusen let that last part go without comment, thinking he misheard her. Surely, this little girl didn't say "goat", did she? Hope felt just a bit of discomfort as her pussy stretched out to accomodate an adult-sized cock, but as the slick member invaded her tight passage she began to enjoy the sensations she felt. Mr. Van Heusen's cock filled her completely, touching places she'd never been touched. She even liked the way his hands felt as they steadied her little body, holding her slim hips as he pushed his cock inside her. And he was so sweet to be concerned that this might hurt her. She hoped this wouldn't be the last time she did this. Hiram Van Heusen felt the tip of his cock hit something, probably the little girl's cervix. He looked down and saw all but about an inch of cock was inside her passage. Holding her hips, he began to withdraw, only to push back in again. Slowly, he began to build a rhythm, one that Hope matched as she rocked her hips. The feeling of her pussy muscles gripping his shaft was amazing, a delicious friction that brought him ever closer to his release. Hoping to prolong the experience, he squirted some more lubricant on his shaft before pushing it inside her again. Hope wanted Mr. Van Heusen to go faster. She wrapped her legs, which had been dangling off the edge of the desk, around the man's ass, spurring him on like an equestrienne. "Faster?" Van Heusen asked. Hope nodded. He began to increase the pace, and the copious amount of lube on his cock and in her pussy began to make squishing sounds. "Uh...uh...uh...uh..." The effect on Hope was almost instantaneous, and with each thrust of Van Heusen's cock inside her needy hole, she let out a little gasp of pleasure. She could feel another orgasm begin to build within her, even more intense than the one she'd had when he licked her. Hope reached down and began to rub her clit, seeking that elusive feeling. It grew from deep inside her, spreading outward to a stupendous climax. Hope began to thrash and moan on top of the wooden desk as Mr. Van Heusen pounded her tender twat with his hard meat. "That's a good girl," Van Heusen said as she started to come. He felt her tight little pussy rippling and contracting around his hard shaft, daring him to come, daring him to fill her with his hot, thick seed. "Unnnnnggghhh!" Hope came hard again, her whole body shaking as Mr. Van Heusen pumped her cunny. As her orgasm began to subside, she felt his cock throbbing inside her, stiffening and twitching in her tight passage. Van Heusen couldn't hold back anymore. Hope's first orgasm brought him close, but the second one, even more intense, made her tighten her pussy's grip around his shaft. He felt his cock begin that telltale twitch and he began to come. The first spurt of semen filled her little hole, but then he quickly pulled out and shot the rest of his load over her tummy, mound, and cunny. He stroked his glistening cock, letting the last jets and dribbles of semen fall on her creamy thighs. It seemed like it would never end. Finally, after the last drop of semen, his cock began to soften. Hiram Van Heusen sat down in his chair, exhausted. He couldn't remember the last time he came that hard. Hope lifted her head and saw the mess Mr. Van Heusen made on her belly and thighs. Not as bad as the goat, to be sure, but she'd have to clean up a bit before putting her clothes back on. Mr. Van Heusen looked like he'd just run a mile, his face all red, his chest heaving. Letting him put it in her had been better than she'd hoped. Maybe, she thought, she could get Luke to do it as well. Van Heusen pulled up his trousers and went into the small bathroom off his office, returning with a towel. He blotted the semen he'd shot on Hope's milky white skin, then he wiped off his flaccid cock. Leaning over the girl, he kissed her softly on the lips. "Thank you, Hope," he said. He handed her the towel and, while she finished cleaning herself, he left the office and returned with a flat white box. "Here," he said, handing it to her. "I had this made for Jael." Hope opened the box. Inside was a sheer pink nightie, a short babydoll with a lace bodice. There were matching panties, also sheer, with ruffled lace across the bottom. The crotch had a lace-edged slit. "It's lovely," she said. "Thanks." She wanted to try it on, but she didn't want to get home too late. Her mother would ask questions and Hope wasn't good at fibbing. "Come back in a few days and I'll have something else for you," Van Heusen said. Lingerie wasn't cheap, but it was a small price to pay for the pleasures he'd had. He helped Hope get dressed, holding her coat for her, and sent her on her way. The bells tinkled as she walked through the shop's door, the box under her arm, waving at him as she left. ~o o~ "What did the pastor say?" Isaac asked as Amos and Aaron returned to the warehouse. "He said we should load up the truck and head back to the valley around noon," Amos said. They had three hours to kill, two if you discount the hour it would take to load the valley-bound cargo into the truck. "I'll roll a joint," Aaron said. "Any coffee left?" "Fresh pot a-brewin' on the stove," Isaac said. After their night with Tina, the boys had gotten up early, as was their habit. Tina, however, had to be shaken awake around eight, after the boys had been up for two hours. The boys had a good laugh when she told them that she usually slept until noon or later. Aaron cooked her breakfast before he and Amos gave her a ride home, then the boys found a pay phone and called the pastor for instructions. The boys smoked pot and drank coffee, watching the one grainy broadcast channel they could get on the television. There was nothing on the news about Naomi and Jael, not that they expected any. Around 10:30, they backed the truck up to the loading dock and loaded the few boxes that had arrived since the last trip back to Salem Valley. More than a few were addressed to Hiram Van Heusen's general store. The boys had finished loading the truck and were about to shut the big loading dock overhead door when Tina ran up to the warehouse. Her clothes were torn, her hair frazzled, there were big bruises on her face and wrists, and her lip was bloodied. "Hide me!" she shrieked. "Oh, God, please!" "Get in," Aaron said, helping Tina up to the loading dock. He hit the big red switch and the door started to come down. "Who did this to you?" he asked. "What the hell?" Isaac said, when he saw Tina's bruised and bloodied face. "Who did this to you?" Aaron repeated. "Antwane," Tina bawled as they entered the shack. Aaron had her sit down at the card table while he fetched some ice from the freezer. He wrapped it in a rag and she held it against her cheek. "What happened?" Amos asked. "Antwane was pissed that I spent the night here," she said, sounding somewhat calmer. "He beat on me and kicked me out." "Look, we gotta split soon," Amos said. "Not yet," Aaron said. "Not until she's safe." "Aw, geez," Isaac said. "Look, she's just a..." "Shut up," Aaron snapped. "She's a kid, too." "Tina, what do you want?" Amos asked. "We can get you a bus ticket, or..." "I wanna go with you," Tina said, looking at Aaron. She put her hand on top of his. "Out of the question," Amos said. "No, wait," Aaron said. "We can put her in the old cabin." "Are you kidding?" Amos said. "You know what goes on there, right?" "I say we put her on a bus to LA," Isaac said. "You got family there, right?" Tina nodded. "Do you know where in LA your family is, Tina?" Aaron asked her. "Not really," she said. "LA is huge," Aaron said. "What do you know about it?" Isaac snapped. "I can read a fucking map, numbnuts," Aaron countered. "It's bigger than five Salem Valleys laid end to end." "Do you have any other friends you can stay with?" Amos asked. "Not really," Tina said. "They're all Antwane's friends." "What about the cops?" Isaac said. "We can take her to..." "No cops," Tina said. "No way, no how." "No cops," Amos repeated. "Pastor said we shouldn't involve the cops." "That was about the girls," Isaac said. "This is different." "No cops," Amos said. "Cops ask too many questions. Gimme a minute to think about this." Amos got up and walked out of the shack and went into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. "Okay, she comes with us," Amos said, returning a few minutes later. "Where's she gonna stay?" Aaron asked. "There's an extra bed in Judy's room," Amos replied. Judith was Amos and Micah's sister, fourteen years old and the same age as Tina. "You're gonna put this whore in with your sister?" Isaac laughed. Tina shot him a dirty look. "Okay, maybe not," Amos said. "We've got an extra bed in the attic. Anyway, it's only going to be for a week or so, until this Antwane shit blows over or we find her LA people. That okay with you?" Tina nodded. "Great, it's settled," Aaron said. "Just fucking great," Isaac said. "What if that little shit Antwane comes looking for her here?" "You afraid of a little crackhead?" Aaron laughed. "Not if it's just him," Isaac said. "But six crackheads with guns? Fuck yeah." "You'll be okay," Amos said. What he didn't have to mention were the firearms they had in the warehouse, or the heavy steel bars over each window. Isaac could hold out against a small army if need be. "Next truck out here is tonight," Aaron said. Isaac would only have to be alone for a few hours. Tina sat in the cab of the truck, between Amos and Aaron. She'd never been this far away from a city or town, and just as Micah had been fascinated with all the new things he saw, so was Tina. She'd never seen so many trees in her life, mountains taller than city buildings, rolling fields, farms, livestock. She felt like she was leaving her old life behind. Tina hid in the truck while Amos and Aaron dropped a load of merchandise off at the general store. After that, Amos dropped Aaron off at his house and drove home. Someone would be by to pick up the truck in a while. In the meantime, he parked the truck in front of his family's farmhouse. Tina followed him inside. Ruth Timmons was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, when Amos entered with Tina in tow. She heard him enter, dried her hands on her apron, and turned around to greet her son. Then she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the bruised teenager hanging on to his arm. "Good grief!" Ruth explained. "What happened to you, dear?" "Her friend beat her up," Amos said. "Come and sit down, dear," Ruth said, leading Tina to a kitchen chair. "I'll make a cold compress for your face." Mrs. Timmons, a matronly woman in her early forties, pulled an ice tray from the freezer and dumped some cubes into a dishtowel. She crushed the ice in the towel with a heavy iron skillet and carefully placed the compress against Tina's discolored cheek. "What's your name, dear?" Ruth asked her. "Christina," she said. "But everyone calls me Tina." "What a lovely name," Ruth said. "I think we're going to have to find you some new clothes. Now, you stay here and I'll be right back. Amos, would you help me?" "Yes, Mom," he said. He followed his mother down to the basement, where they had boxes of old clothes stored. "Who is she?" Ruth asked her son when they were out of earshot of the kitchen. "She's a girl Isaac brought back to the warehouse last night," Amos said. "Her boyfriend beat her up and she ran to us for help." "And you want her to stay with us?" Ruth asked. "For a few days, anyway," Amos said. "Then she can go back." He explained some of the situation to his mother, about her neglectful mother, abusive stepfather, the possibility of family in LA. He did omit what she did for a living, along with the drugs. "Well, your father's going to have the final say," Ruth said. "And if she stays, the pastor's going to have to know as well." "I was going to tell the pastor myself," Amos said, planning on getting out in front of this. "Where is Dad, anyway?" "In the barn," Ruth said, selecting a box from one of the stacks. "Grab this for me, Amos." He pulled down the box and followed her upstairs. "We're back," Ruth Timmons said, returning to the kitchen. Tina hadn't budged from her chair. She'd never been in a kitchen like this, so spacious, filled with delicious smells. Ruth checked the swelling on Tina's face and clucked over her wounds. "I'm going to fix a nice hot bath for you, then we'll see if some of Judy's old clothes fit you." "Thank you, Mrs...." "Timmons," Ruth said. "But call me Ruthie, dear. Everyone does." Ruthie Timmons sent Amos upstairs with sheets, blankets, and a pillow to prepare the attic bedroom for Tina. It was a cozy space, with sloping walls, dormer windows, warm from the rising heat of the house. Amos made the bed and cracked open a window to air out the room. Abraham Timmons, his father, was waiting for him when he came downstairs. A portly man in his early sixties, Abe had a kindly face under his bushy white beard. "Son, let's talk," he said, leading his son into the sitting room. He reached into the cabinet for two glasses and a bottle of bourbon. Abe Timmons poured two fingers into each glass and placed the bottle on a side table, taking a seat in his favorite chair. Amos took a seat on the sofa. "Son, I near hit the roof when your mama told me what you done," Abe said, taking a sip of his bourbon. "Then I saw that poor girl's face." "She got beat up something bad," Amos said. "If it were me, I'd leave her at the warehouse." "Not alone with Isaac," Amos said. "Well, you were there and I wasn't," Abe said. "So it was your call, and I respect that. Now, the pastor..." "I'm fixin' to go speak to him tonight," Amos said. "I expect you should." Father and son finished their drinks in silence, then went to sit down to dinner. Amos was glad that Tina actually showed some table manners. She bowed her head when grace was said, kept her elbows off the table, said "Please" and "Thank you", and didn't wolf down her food even though Amos knew the girl was ravenously hungry. She did ask for seconds of the beef stew, which gladdened Ruthie's heart. Tina was as skinny as Judith was when she was twelve. Judith and Micah Timmons could hardly keep their eyes off of Tina, though both were too polite to stare. They'd never seen a girl like her before, with her coffee-colored skin and jet black hair, big eyes and full lips. Ruthie had given Tina some of Judy's old clothes to wear, so they missed the sight of her in a short skirt and skimpy blouse, her thong straps hiked up over her skirt's waistband. Ruthie hadn't decided whether she should mend Tina's ripped clothing or burn it, and the thong left her puzzled. What was the point of wearing underwear if it didn't cover anything? After dinner, Abraham, Amos, and Tina drove over to the pastor's residence. The pastor, informed of their presence by his daughter, Mariah, saw them immediately. They were brought into his office and seated before his desk. "Well, well," Pastor Gilmore chuckled, after Amos described the events of that morning, "Amos, I sent you out to find Naomi and Jael and you brought back the wrong girl." "I'm sorry, pastor," Amos said. "But at the time..." "I know, I know," the pastor said. "I can see her bruises for myself." "Ruthie and me are willing to board her," Abraham Timmons said. "Until something more permanent comes along." "Your kindness is duly noted, Abe," the pastor said. "Would you men give me a moment alone with her?" Abraham and Amos left the pastor's office and headed for the sitting room, where Mariah attended them with refreshments. "Let's sit by the fire," the pastor said to Tina. The pastor threw a couple of logs on the fire and took a seat facing the girl. To Tina, the pastor reminded her of Santa, with his bushy white beard and florid complexion. She shrugged off her coat and warmed herself by the stone hearth. "Tell me how you came to meet Amos," the pastor said. Tina hesitated before speaking. "Like, Issac, he met me and brought me to that building," she said. "The warehouse?" "Right. Then Amos and Aaron came in. They'd been looking for..." "The girls," the pastor said. "Right." "And how much money did they give you?" the pastor asked. He wasn't ignorant of what Tina was, or what went on at the warehouse. That was the unavoidable consequence of sending young men on such an assignment. But there was no alternative. Married men, though more temperate, might also succumb to temptations and families would suffer for it. And women could not be expected to handle such labor. "$100," she said quietly. The warmth of the fire and the uncertainty of the situation were starting to make her perspire. "I see," the pastor said. He studied her for a while, looking past the bruises and seeing her pretty features, big brown eyes, full lips. "Tina," the pastor said. "Would you take your dress off for me?" "Yes, sir," she said. Now some of the uncertainty began to dissolve. If there was one thing Tina was familiar with, it was the carnal desires of men. She stood up and unbuttoned the simple short frock Ruth had given her to wear, letting it fall on the chair. Underneath, she wore her own bra, a black lace pushup, and an old pair of Judith's panties, worn white cotton briefs. Judith had been bigger than Tina, even at age 12, and the panties barely stayed on her hips. "Please take off your bra," the pastor said. Tina undid the front clasp and shrugged it off her shoulders. Her breasts were small, but still growing. "Panties, too," he said. Tina was all to glad to take them off. They reminded of the panties her mother would dress her in when she was eight, nine years old. She skinned them off, stepped out of them, and stood naked in front of the pastor, the heat of the fireplace warming her skin. To the pastor, Tina was like an exotic animal, with her mocha skin and raven hair. He noted that she shaved her pudenda. Must be the fashion outside the valley, he thought. He bid her to come closer to his chair and she complied, standing motionless as her examined her bruises and made her turn around. She heard a rustling of clothing, and when the pastor had her turn around again, she saw his penis, rising from his trousers. "Kneel," the pastor said softly. Tina knelt on the carpet between his knees and looked up at Pastor Gilmore. The man nodded and Tina knew what she was expected to do. She gently took his penis in her hands and began to knead it, feeling it harden between her fingers. Then she leaned over and engulfed it with her lips. As she began to suck the pastor's hardening cock, she felt him brush the hair away from her face. So many men did that; she knew they liked to watch her as she worked. Tina skillfully ravished the pastor's cock with her lips and tongue, knowing that her fate in this valley depended on it. She wasn't put off by the older man's scent. Unlike most of her older clients, the pastor didn't smell unpleasant. She caught a faint aroma of lilacs from his bushy white pubes, a residue of the homemade soap he favored. She bathed his cock with her tongue, twisting her head this way and that, her fingers dancing over his shaft. From time to time, she looked up at him, knowing how much men loved that submissive look. The pastor watched her with a benign look as she sucked his thick, veiny penis. Tina felt the pastor's cock begin to twitch in her mouth, and she knew he was close. She swirled her tongue over his shaft and that special spot beneath the head of his cock and, hearing him grunt softly, was rewarded with a torrent of hot, thick semen. He came a lot for an old guy, she thought, as she swallowed it all. Usually, with a client, she'd spit out his cock at this point, but she kept the pastor's penis in her mouth until it softened and then released him. "Very good," the pastor said, tenderly stroking her cheek, confirming Tina's suspicion that this had indeed been a test. "You can get dressed." The pastor watched her as she put on her bra and panties, and button her dress, then he bid her to take a seat. "Tina, we're going to try to find a place for you in our community," he said. "Would you like that?" "Yes, sir." "Now, tomorrow, you're going to see our doctor. Until then, you must not have relations with anyone. No sex. Understood?" "Yes, sir." "In the days and weeks to come, you'll learn our ways, our traditions. Some will seem foreign to you, some strange. But above all, you must respect them. Is that clear?" "Yes, sir," Tina said, her eyes downcast. "It's clear, sir. Thank you, sir." "Call me 'Pastor'." "Yes, pastor." "You may go now," he said. After she left, the pastor poured himself a shot of whiskey and called Doc Mercer. The doctor would see her tomorrow. ~o o~ "Will you kiss us goodnight?" Deborah Rittenhouse asked. Judith Timmons had just bathed the five-year-old girl and her brother David, now six, and was drying them off with a plush towel. His little cock was still stiff from Judith's soapy fingers in the bath, eagerly anticipating the bedtime routine. "Of course," Judith said, taking the naked kids by the hand and leading them to the bedroom they shared. Mr. and Mrs. Rittenhouse had asked Judith to sit for their two children while they attended Mrs. Rittenhouse's mother, who was ailing with a cold. Judith had the kids, still nude, sit on the edge of David's bed. "Are you ready for your special kisses?" Judith asked. "Yes!" they replied. "Me first!" Deborah exclaimed, to her brother's disappointment. "Okay, Debbie," Judith said. "You first." She knelt on the rug and spread the little girl's legs, placing her ankles on her shoulders. Then she leaned in and kissed little Deborah on her plump little pussy before probing her hairless labia with her tongue. Deborah enjoyed these special kisses, squealing with delight as Judith found her tiny clit. David looked on and watched as the babysitter sucked and licked his sister's bald cunny, pulling on his hairless little cock. Judith had been doing this since the kids were two and three years old, even before they'd had their first orgasms. It helped them sleep better, she told herself, making her job easier. But it also made her quite horny, and as she lapped at Deborah's tiny twat, her hand found its way under her dress, fingers pressing against her panty crotch. "Ooooohhh..." Deborah moaned, as her orgasm approached. Judith learned to make quick work, skillfully bringing the girl off, leaving more time for her to attend to her own pleasures. Deborah squirmed and writhed on the bed, her little legs stiffening as she came, her hands balled into tiny fists, a series of soft gasps coming from her mouth. Judith let her legs down from her shoulders and gave Deborah's rubbery pussy lips a last soft kiss. Then she helped the little girl into her panties and nightie and tucked her into her own bed. "Now me!" David said. "Do me now!" "Settle down, Davey," Judith implored. She had the young boy lie on his bed, flat on his back, as she sat down on the edge. She leaned over and enveloped his little stiffy with her lips, engulfing his hairless cock and balls completely. David, his head propped up with a pillow, watched as Judith's head bobbed in his lap, his finger-sized penis disappearing into her mouth, then reappearing, glistening with her saliva. The tension had been building all evening; he'd been erect most of the time, even before their bath. Now his release came quickly, and as his chest heaved and his pelvis rocked back and forth, he climaxed, letting out a soft grunt as he rolled over, pulling his cock out of Judith's mouth. She kissed his little bottom before dressing him in his pajamas. Judith gave both children a chaste kiss on the forehead before turning out the lights and closing the door. Now it was Judith's time. She waited fifteen minutes, until she could hear David and Deborah's breathing slow to the rhythm of sleep. Then she went to the bathroom down the hall, carrying a dog-eared romance novel she'd borrowed from a friend at school, its spine broken to open to all the sexy parts. Judith locked the bathroom door, put down the lid to the toilet seat, stepped out of her panties, and sat down on the toilet, hiking her dress around her hips. Compared to the other girls her age, the fruits of womanhood had been bountiful for Judith. Her hips were broad, and her big, soft bottom was ample balance for her full, round breasts. Her babyfat hadn't seemed to leave her, merely shifting to other places on her body. It was a figure that attracted the eye of a number of older men, who favored a woman broad of beam. Among boys her age, however, less attention had been paid. As a result, Judith had found comfort and solace in masturbating, finding a myriad ways of bringing her release. Propping the novel up on the sink next to her, Judith read a passage she'd nearly memorized by this point, about a bodice-ripping tryst in a wind-swept English copse. She rubbed her swollen clit with one hand, using the fingers of her other to poke and probe her hairy cunt. The bathroom filled with the pungent smell of her sex as she frigged herself. Judith fingered herself to a quiet orgasm on the toilet, pressing her lips together as she supressed her cries of pleasure so as not to wake up the children. Her diddling fingers slowed as her climax began to subside. But Judith wasn't finished. This had only been the appetizer. She removed her dress and bra, looking at her body in the mirror, lifting her breasts and squeezing them together. Her boobs were big enough to allow her to lick and suck her own nipples, making them stiffen. She could feel the moisture building between her legs. Now came the main course. There was a plunger next to the toilet, with a wooden handle and red rubber cup. Judith wet the cup in the sink and knelt next to the enameled bathtub, pushing the plunger against the smooth surface of the tub. Suction held it in place, and she tested it, making sure it held firm. Then she got down on her hands and knees on the bathroom rug and backed up until the wooden handle of the plunger was pressing against her wet pussy. "Ungh..." she grunted as the handle entered her hungry hole. Judith began to rock back and forth on her hands and knees, fucking herself with the plunger. As her breasts began to sway, she reached up and cupped one, pinching her nipple between her fingers as she mashed and kneaded her own tit. Judith closed her eyes and imagined it was her father, Abraham Timmons, whose cock was inside her, whose hand was on her breast, having mounted her like a bull mounts a cow. When she'd been younger, eight, ten years old, her father would quietly enter her room at night. She'd suck on him and he'd press his fingers into her chubby cunt, pleasuring her while she serviced him. By the time she was twelve, her breasts beginning to grow, her pussy now covered with sparse hairs, her father had stopped visiting her, finding a new outlet for his pleasures. She missed these visits, and though she knew her father loved her, something had changed. Now a new figure entered her imagination, her brother Micah. She imagined him standing at her head, his penis stiff, inviting her to take him in her mouth. She pictured him in an old pair of her panties -- she knew about his secret from the tiny drops of dried semen she'd seen on her panties when she did the laundry -- and she'd pull down the front of the undies to free his little cock. While she imagined her father pumping her wet cunt, she pictured herself sucking on her brother at the same time. Judith moved her hand from her breast to her clit. She had an unusually large one, as big as the tip of her pinkie finger, and it was an endless source of pleasure for her, so big and sensitive. Lately, she found that she could bring herself off merely by crossing her legs and pressing her thighs together. Now she rubbed the sensitive organ, pushing back on the plunger and swaying forward again. Before she'd learned to wet the plunger's cup, it would separate from the tub a few times, but now it held fast as she fucked herself with the wooden handle. Judith's thighs began to quiver as her pleasure mounted, her fingers flying furiously over her clit. Suddenly, her second climax of the evening arrived, making her bite her lip to keep from crying out. Her fingers stopped, started again, and then finally stopped when her orgasm grew too intense. She fell forward, off of the plunger, on to the floor, her hand buried between her ample thighs, feeling cool tile under her face. As she was laying there on the bathroom floor, she heard the Rittenhouse's truck coming up the path to their house. Quickly, she removed the plunger and wiped off the handle, hurriedly getting dressed and stuffing the romance novel in her bag. As the front door opened, she flushed the toilet and washed her hands, straightening herself up in front of the mirror before greeting David and Deborah's parents. ~o o~ It was a miracle, Melody Johnson thought. She never thought she'd see her daughters ever again, then today they show up on her doorstep. When she'd left Hiram Van Heusen years ago, she had to leave her two daughters behind, but she hoped one day to win custody of them. It was hard enough to begin her new life and she didn't want to inflict that hardship on her girls as well. But as the years passed, she realized that it would be nearly impossible to win a custody battle with her husband. For one thing, she had run away, abandoning her girls. And the people of the valley would close ranks against her. She'd never get a fair hearing. But Melody felt guilt over what had happened to Naomi and Jael in her absence. It was remarkably similar to how Hiram had treated her when she was still sharing his bed, the ritualized sex acts, the utter submission to his desires. She wept when Naomi described what life with Hiram had become. But Naomi was a strong girl, a smart girl. She'd rescued her sister and herself, and she held her mother blameless. Melody Johnson vowed never to let her girls go. After she cooked dinner for her daughters, there was a knock on the door. A woman in a pants suit, flanked by two police officers, stood on the steps of her rented bungalow. The woman introduced herself as Dorothy Myers, a social worker at the county hospital. She wanted to question the girls. It wasn't until Melody had a written guarantee in her hand stating that her daughters wouldn't be removed from her home that she consented to the girls being questioned. By this time, a woman from the state youth services department and two state police detectives had arrived. Her little bungalow was getting crowded. Naomi and Jael were taken into separate rooms and their answers were videotaped. It was almost midnight when everyone finally left. "What's going to happen, Mom?" Naomi asked. "Something big, Naomi," Melody replied. "Something really big." ~o o~ © 2008 Anais Ninja anais.ninja.asstr@gmail.com anais_ninja@hotmail.com