27
It wasn't until that evening that they were all able to assemble again.
Avery's body had been disposed of. Lisa and Joyce had been kept in separate
rooms during the day, but now they were both sitting in the large bedroom with
the Council members, while Kalinkos was explaining to them what they were going
to do with each other, for the men's entertainment.
Both girls were very pale.
"I can't," Joyce whispered, when Kalinkos had stopped speaking.
"What?" Trifford said.
Joyce swallowed hard. She was trembling. "I can't--I can't do that.
It's--it's sick. Please, you know I--I'm--I do what you want, but this--oh,
god..."
"Are you saying no to me, Joyce?" Trifford's voice was very soft.
"Oh... please... not this... It's so..."
"I'm sure you'll love it once we get started," Trifford said. "We'll let
Lisa do it to you first. How about it, Lisa? You don't have any objections, do
you?"
Lisa was biting her lip. "I-I've never done it with another girl," she
quavered. "I--I don't think I--"
"You'll learn," Trifford said. "Let's get to it, all right? Joyce, lie
down on the bed."
When Joyce hesitated, four of the men put her on the bed and stretched
her out, each taking a wrist or an ankle. They held her tightly, her body pulled
taut, her legs wide apart.
"All right, Lisa," Trifford said. "Get to it."
"I don't--I--"
"Would you like to do it with needles in your tits, Lisa? How about all
over your body? There are twelve of them, you know. Did you ever have all of
them stuck in you at once? Let's see, we can put four in your breasts, two in
your behind, a couple in your legs, a couple in your belly, one in your cunt..."
Lisa did it.
Joyce shrieked and tried vainly to pull away as the younger girl
crouched over her body. Both to prolong the entertainment and to torment Joyce
further, Trifford had Lisa make love to her body before getting down to the main
event. He told her exactly what to do, and the girl did everything he said.
Under his instructions, she first played with Joyce's breasts, then kissed them.
She licked the nipples, then took them into her mouth, sucking and nibbling.
Joyce did not enjoy it. She cried out with revulsion, trying vainly to pull away
from the hands that held her. Lisa, at Trifford's direction, left her breasts to
kiss and lick her way down Joyce's body, her lips and tongue sliding softly and
tantalizingly over the smooth flesh. Joyce's struggles had exhausted her, and
she lay panting and sobbing. Lisa's obedient mouth traveled down to her legs,
moving along her inner thighs, while her hands caressed the helpless body. And
at last, with a certain fearful hesitation but too frightened to resist, Lisa
licked her way all the way up along Joyce's widespread thighs until her mouth
reached her open cunt, and stayed there.
Trifford's voice cut through Joyce's horrified moan. "All right, Lisa,"
he said. "Do it good now. Kiss that cunt. Now stick your tongue into it, all the
way up inside it, and move it around so she feels it. Now work on her clitoris.
Suck on it, nibble it, lick it good. Faster. Now slower. Keep it up. Do it all,
Lisa. We'll make a great little dyke out of you yet."
Lisa did it all. She did it and did it, afraid even to pause without
permission, although from time to time she was forced to raise her head and take
in great gulps of air. At first Joyce's sounds of protest increased, and she
again tried feebly to pull away. But as Lisa's ministrations continued, the
quality of the older girl's moans began to change. Very gradually, and obviously
against her will, she appeared to be responding. Her panting became hoarser, and
her body began, involuntarily, to writhe with something like passion.
"Hey, look!" one of the watching men called out. "She likes it!"
"Keep it up, Lisa," Trifford said.
Lisa kept it up.
Joyce's face and neck were growing crimson with shame and self-disgust,
and she seemed to try desperately to fight off the feelings that were betraying
her, setting her lips tight and stiffening her body against them. But as Lisa's
mouth and lips and tongue continued their work, she appeared to be losing the
battle. Groans of unwanted desire forced themselves from her straining throat,
and in spite of itself her tautly spread body arched and twisted.
The men were chortling now.
"No!" she cried hopelessly, piteously. "Oh, no! No! I don't want
Tears of shame and horror spurted from her eyes, even as her traitorous
body convulsed and spasmed in helpless orgasm.
"All right, Lisa," Trifford said. "You can stop now."
As they released Joyce's arms and legs she rolled over, hiding her face
from them, and sobbed uncontrollably into the pillow.
"Hell, what's she bawling about?" Kalinkos demanded. "She liked it fine
at the end there."
"Just so," Trifford murmured. "That's exactly why she's crying.
Exquisite, isn't it?"
"Well, shit," Kalinkos said. "Exquisite or not, what I want to see now
is her doing it to little Lisa here. Then I want to fuck the shit out of both of
them."
"Of course," Trifford said, watching Joyce. "That's the next thing on
the agenda. Turn about, as they say, is fair play. Isn't that right, Joyce?"
Joyce, more suddenly than might have been expected, stopped crying. She
sniffled a few times, then, using a corner of the bedsheet, she made a pass at
wiping her face and blowing her nose before she turned to face them. At last,
slowly, she sat up.
There was something in her expression that kept the men silent. Though
her face was still damp, there were no tears in her eyes now; they seemed very
stark and hollow as she met Trifford's gaze. Her voice, when she spoke, was not
quite steady, but it was clear.
"I won't," she said.
Trifford sighed. "Joyce--" he started.
"I won't," she repeated. She was very pale; she was trembling; her arms
were crossed in front of her, her fingers digging deeply into her own flesh; but
she looked straight at him with her hollow eyes. "Listen to me," she said, her
words forcing themselves past her constricted throat. "Just listen, please. I've
done everything you wanted. Everything. I let you make me a slave. I let you
degrade me and shame me in every way you could think of. I let you use my body,
and torture me, and humiliate me, and make me do things that--" She stopped to
swallow. "I've done it all," she went on. "But now--this--this filthy, perverted
thing--I--I can't do it." She swallowed again. "I won't do it. I don't care what
you do to me. You can't bring me that low. You can hurt me all you want. You can
kill me. I don't care. I won't do it!"
Trifford just looked at her for a long time. She shook harder than
before, but her eyes didn't drop from his. Finally he turned away and spoke to
Kalinkos.
"Call Collins," he said.
