Mr. and Mrs. Delacorte came over one night to visit, and stayed only about an hour. Mrs. Delacorte was horrified. "You're living in a slum," she said primly. "It's a wonder this building hasn't been condemned. Honestly, Suzanne, I don't see how you can be happy here." Suzanne was thankful for her father's understanding. "You do your thing, little girl," he said with a twinkle in his deep blue eyes. "Would you believe I lived in an apartment just like this before I met your mother. That was before I made it big, of course." Suzanne remembered the many times her father had told her about his struggle to succeed and his eventual emergence as one of Detroit's leading parts manufacturers. Despite his affluence, Mr. Delacorte still retained his earthy quality, and his lack of interest in the Grosse Pointe social scene was a constant thorn in his wife's side. "Your father just doesn't realize the importance of mixing with the right people," Mrs. Delacorte would often tell Suzanne. "Birds of a feather, you know, and all that." And Suzanne would exchange a conspiratorial look with her father. On her third day in her apartment, Suzanne asked Donald if she could come and visit his mother. He had checked in with her after classes to see if there were any chores she needed done. He was very thrilled at her interest, and together they walked up to West Forest Avenue, across the expressway and down several blocks to an apartment building which, in comparison to Suzanne's, was almost ready to fall apart. Suzanne repressed a shudder as they climbed the stairs, every step creaking from their weight and the walls grimy with years of filth. The air was stagnant and smelled of stale cigarette smoke, liquor and urine. They entered an apartment on the fifth floor, and she sank immediately into a chair, panting heavily. Donald shouted out for his mother, and a few seconds later, a short, plump woman came ambling into the room. "Hey, ma, this is Suzanne, the one I told you about," Donald said, proudly showing off a new social conquest. The woman stared at Suzanne and grinned. As her thick lips pulled back, her bare gums were revealed. "Howdy," she said. "S'cuse me. I weren't expectin' company. Wait a minute. I'll go put my teeth in." Suzanne looked at Donald, and in her mind wondered how such a handsome young boy could have come from such a woman. There was hardly one redeeming physical feature about her. Her hair had obviously not been combed in weeks. The loose dress she wore was covered with food stains, and Suzanne could tell she was not wearing any underwear. Her pendulous breasts swayed in front of her, hanging down almost to her navel, bumping out against the dress with obscene movements. She wore no shoes, and her feet were black. Suzanne repressed a shudder, and thought for a moment of her mother, always so elegantly groomed, so beautifully dressed, so exquisitely well-mannered. "Hey, Ted, you home?" Donald's voice rang out, and a moment later a young man entered the room. "This is my brother, Ted," Donald said. Ted looked down at Suzanne and grinned. "Well, Donald said you wuz something else," he said, his eyes sliding slowly over her. "I'll say you are." Suzanne blushed and laughed. "You're pretty good-looking yourself, Ted," she replied, "but then, so's Donald." "Hey, how about that?" said Ted, moving over, and sitting on the couch next to Suzanne's chair. "Donald says you wanna find out how we live and all that shit." Suzanne nodded. "Yes, I'm majoring in sociology. I'm planning a project based on the living conditions of people in this area." Ted laughed coarsely. "Stick around, you'll learn plenty," he said. "We bin here 'bout two years. Me, I'd rather be back in Kentucky. Least we could go rabbit huntin' there. Here all I hunt is girls. There's plenty, too." "That's nice," said Suzanne, momentarily out of her depth. She was uncomfortably aware of Ted's penetrating glances and the sensuous twist of his mouth. He was slightly taller than Donald, and obviously well- built. His arm muscles rippled under his shirt, and his belt wrapped tightly around his slim waist. For a passing flash, Suzanne caught herself glancing at his crotch, which bulged temptingly. But then, she remembered, so did Donald's. And so had Sam's ... "Well, I feel better now, with my teeth in." The woman came through the door and grinned at them. She had made some effort to comb her hair, and her teeth gleamed between her lips. She still looked like a grotesque mockery of motherhood. "You like somethin' to drink, Suzanne? We got some Cokes." "Yes, thank you. That would be nice. I'm a little out of breath from climbing those stairs." "You get used to it," was the calm reply. "You got you a boyfriend?" asked Ted, his eyes still on her breasts. Suzanne laughed. "I'm too busy. I'm a student, remember. I don't have much time for anything but books." "Hell, that ain't no way to live," said Ted. "You got to get out and have a little fun. Maybe you'n me could take in a movie some night." "You shut your goddamn mouth," came the raucous voice from the kitchen. "Don't you go messing round with Suzanne. She ain't your kind of girl, and you know it." Ted grinned and made a face in the direction of the other room. "She don't know nothin'," he said in a low voice. "I go with plenty of chicks. All kinds. You ask Donald." Donald grinned, looking slightly shamefaced. "He's got lots," he said, "but ma don't like him screwing round." "You damn right I don't." Heavy footsteps and the clatter of Coke bottles signaled her return from the kitchen. "Here, Suzanne. Hope you don't mind drinkin' from the bottle. We're kinda short on glasses." "That's fine, thank you," Suzanne said. "Okay, so Donald says you wanna ask some questions. You jest fire away." There was a slight shake to the floor as the woman subsided into a rickety chair. Suzanne reached into her purse and took out a small notepad and a pencil. As she readied herself, she was grimly aware that Ted's eyes were still on her, and his face held a leering, sensuous quality that disturbed her. * * * The next day, Suzanne settled down to go over her notes on her first case history. The details amazed her. Donald's mother confessed that she had been married when she was fifteen, and only because she had become pregnant by her husband. She had Ted, and two years later Donald, and then shortly afterwards her husband had been killed in an airplane crash. She received a pension and also assistance from the state. But her income was barely enough to keep body and soul together. She decided to move from Kentucky to Michigan in the hopes of getting employment. Also, she said, the schools would be better for her boys. Unfortunately, her poor educational background precluded her from getting anything but the most menial work, and she felt she would just as soon stay home and subsist on her pension and welfare checks. The boys dropped out of school and earned occasional money as best they could. Ted worked sometimes as a busboy or as a messenger, but he seldom stayed in a job longer than a month. Suzanne promised to see what she could do to get the woman situated in a position that she could handle and which would bring in some more money for her. She seemed grateful, though not overly enthusiastic. She apparently no longer seemed to care, as long as she was able to feed herself and her sons and pay the low-cost housing rental. Suzanne decided that she would make the family her project: try to get the mother situated, and work on the boys to instill some sense of responsibility and ambition in them. She mentioned her plans to her sociology instructor, who listened attentively, then said, "Lotsa luck!" She related this to Yvonne, who laughed loudly. "Little Miss Do-Good," she said cynically. "Just wait till you've talked to a few more families around here. You'll realize you're wasting your time." Suzanne was indignant. "No sincere effort to help others is a waste of time," she retorted. "Maybe all these people really need is to know someone cares about what happens to them." Yvonne became deadly serious. "Look, my girl," she said, "I've lived in this area for seven years. I know these people. They'll take the handout, but they'll never settle down and work. But if you get your kicks, fine, go ahead and try. But don't be too disappointed. And above all, don't leave yourself open for a pass. Those two kids'll probably just as soon screw you as look at you. They've probably been fucking since they were old enough to get a hard-on. I know these Kentucky hillbillies. They'll fuck anything. So watch out, my girl, unless you want to lose that prize virginity of yours." Suzanne remembered Ted's glances at her, and his casual reference to going out. But then, she thought, he wouldn't try anything. He knows I'm not interested. Besides, she reasoned, if they did, she could always scream. She'd read somewhere that nothing scares off a would-be rapist quicker than a woman's screams. She put her notes away and went into the kitchen. She planned to make a quick meal and settle down to studying. She took out a saucepan and filled it with water. As she turned the faucet, she heard a click, and the water continued gushing out even after she had turned the handle off. Impatiently, she walked to the door and down the stairs to Mrs. Sansome's apartment. She knocked, but there was no reply. She went back upstairs, and as she reached the third floor, she saw Donald standing at her door. "Hi," he said, smiling broadly. "You want anything done?" With a sigh of relief, she nodded. "My faucet's leaking," she told him, "and Mrs. Sansome's out." "No problem," he said cheerfully. "Ted's home, and he's done plumbing work. I'll go get him. We'll fix it in a jiffy." He ran down the stairs, and Suzanne walked back into the kitchen and began peeling some potatoes. Within ten minutes, Donald and Ted were back, armed with wrenches and a washer. Ted greeted her affably, and went to work. Within minutes, he had stepped back triumphantly. The faucet had been fixed. "Thank you so much," Suzanne said. "How much do you want? A dollar?" She had learned that almost any chore Donald did was a dollar. Ted nodded. "That'll be fine," he said. Suzanne went to her purse, took out the money and handed it over. As he took the bill, he closed his hand over hers and pulled her to him quickly, kissing her on the lips. Suzanne jerked away, her eyes flashing. "Don't get mad," said Ted lazily, still holding her hand. "Nothin' wrong with a little kiss, now is there?" Suzanne disengaged herself and moved away, her heart beating unnaturally fast. "I think ... I think you'd both better leave now," she said as calmly as she could. "I have to get supper ready, and I have studying to do." Ted laughed and leaned up against the sink. "Maybe you'd like a change tonight," he said. "Like maybe studying something more interesting." He slid his hand down to his crotch and adjusted his genitals, bunching them up suggestively. Donald broke into a giggle. "Ted, thank you for fixing the faucet," Suzanne said, desperately trying to cope with the situation, which she felt was getting completely out of hand. "And now, if you don't mind." Ted walked forward, put his hand around her waist, and pulled her violently to him. "Come on, I'm a good lay. Ask Donald. He's seen me in action." She struggled ineffectually, conscious of a growing tension in her loins and a terrible fear in her heart. She heard Yvonne's words in her mind. "Those two kids'll probably just as soon screw you as look at you." Then she felt Ted's lips on hers, and his tongue pushing into her mouth. She struggled, and her hips felt the pressure of his body with its suggestive bulge between his legs. She managed to break away, and she gasped out a strangled plea. "Ted, please, let me go!" His arms continued holding her, and his eyes narrowed as they glared at her. "I ain't lettin' you go," he drawled. "We're gonna have a little fun, just you, me and Donald." Suzanne felt the tears come splashing down her cheeks. "I ... I'm not that sort of girl," she stammered. Ted laughed loudly. "You mean you don't screw around? All you rich bitches from Grosse Pointe fuck. I know. I've had plenty of 'em. And they always come back for more, because I got what it takes. Here, you feel for yourself." He grabbed her hand and pulled it down between his legs. Her fingers touched the growing hardness there, and she struggled even more. "Donald, please help me," she begged, turning to the younger boy, and then her eyes widened with horror. Donald was standing, his fly open and his erect penis jutting forth, held in his hands which massaged it gently up and down. "Donald!" Her voice rose almost to a scream, and Ted's hand clamped over her mouth in a flash. "Now don't you do anything stupid like screaming," he said threateningly. "You got a real purty face. It wouldn't look too good all beat up now, would it?" Ted began pulling her over to the alcove with the bed. "Come on, baby brother, you know what to do," he said, his voice chuckling evilly, "Start with her skirt. I want to see that nice hairy pussy of hers." Suzanne couldn't believe it was happening. This was a nightmare, she knew. Donald was a nice boy. He wouldn't do anything like that. He couldn't. She stared disbelievingly as Donald came over, his penis jutting from his pants, a long, thick organ that she could hardly believe was possible on such a young boy. Ted held her tightly, and Donald's hands searched for the zipper on the side of her skirt. Her entire body was trembling. She felt him fumble, and then the zipper slid down, and her skirt slipped to the floor. "Wow, look at them legs!" Donald's hands grasped her underwear, and pulled down, and she felt the cool rush of air against her crotch. Ted bent her over backwards, and pulled her down on the bed, still holding one hand over her mouth. He lifted his head to get a better view of her naked thighs and hips. Donald was already kneeling between her legs, staring hard at her, while his hand caressed his penis. "Jeez, that's eatin' stuff. Go at it!" She felt Donald's hands come forward, run up the inside of her thighs and come to rest on her cunt-lips, pulling them open with a sudden movement. She heard him whistle, and then his head came forward and his mouth closed over her mound, his tongue licking her ravenously. She felt his flesh hot upon her own, and the tip of his tongue flicking across her clitoris. A flash of fire went through her loins, and she struggled. "She likes it, don't you, Miss Rich Bitch?" hissed Ted softly. "Well, you're gonna git it, so you may as well quit all this struggling. And one peep outa you, and I'll let you have it, right across the mouth." Suzanne's mind was reeling. She could not believe what was happening to her. Mentally she cried out for Sam, for her parents, for Yvonne, for anyone who might come and rescue her from this terrible predicament. These two vile kids were going to rape her; she knew it, and she knew she was powerless to prevent it. "Okay, you've had a taste," snapped Ted. "Now get her top off. I wanna see those tits." Donald raised up, and after a few seconds manipulating the buttons on her blouse, he pulled her blouse away, and then undid her bra. As her things fell away, her breasts lay exposed to their lecherous eyes. "Oh, wow, that's what I call tits!" Ted's voice was filled with admiration and lust. "Now you settle down, and remember, one peep, and you're gonna be sorry." He released her, and swung around, his mouth closing over her left breast. Donald came forward and began sucking on her right nipple, while his hand pushed into her crotch and his finger began playing with her wet, warm pussy. She stared down at the two young men, conscious of the waves of sensual desire that were flooding her body. She had never in her life experienced such sensations. From the fingers in her crotch to the lips on her breasts, electric tingles were coursing through her, and she felt the depths of her vagina responding, a tumultuous wave of erotic desire, and over it all an all-consuming fear that made her tremble from head to toe. Ted raised up and fumbled with his fly. A moment later, his own massive organ sprang into view, and Suzanne gasped audibly. It was even thicker and longer than Donald's, with a large, flat dark red head pushing through the folds of foreskin, angrily pointing at her. Ted laughed softly. "Told you I had what it takes," he said, "Go down and say hello to him. He won't bite you, but he'll sure spit in your eye if you kiss him right." His hand came behind her neck, and pulled her down. She felt the end of his penis touch her lips, and a wave of nausea wracked her. She struggled, and felt the warm organ slide between her lips and into her mouth. "Suck it, you bitch, suck it!" In sheer desperation, she began rubbing her tongue along the underside of his shaft, tasting for the first time the musky firmness of his sex and the sensuousness of the skin around his rod. He began humping, and she felt it slide in and out, ramming all the way into her throat and then out again. Oh, God, she thought to herself, how long does this go on? Why can't they leave me alone instead of making me do all these obscene things, and then ... would they want more? Would they want to take her virginity? Suzanne tried hard not to burst into hysterical tears, but merely kept on sucking at the massive organ that was being pounded into her mouth with mounting speed and firmness. She heard Ted begin to moan, and his hands came around the back of her neck, holding her in position. "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," he cried out, and she was conscious of his fingers digging into her neck while his penis seemed to flex and grow thicker as he rammed it into her throat, almost choking her. It seemed to pulsate, to throb even more as it was driven quicker and quicker in and out of her mouth, sliding between her lips like a fiery lollipop, almost too big for her to lick comfortably. Then he cried out, "Here she comes, oh, suck it, you cunt, suck it good. Oh, woweeeee, shoot, shoot, shoot, you big dick, shoot into this cunt. Give it to her, baby." And then, with a flood, he ejaculated into her mouth. Suzanne tasted the hot, sweet-salty semen spurting forth from the wide end of his rod, and automatically she gulped and swallowed the thick, warm fluid that kept on coming, load after load, while his hands held her head and his fingernails sank into her skin. Vaguely she heard Donald's excited giggling mingled with Ted's orgasmic groans of pleasure. Then, mercifully, it was over. She felt his penis soften and slowly withdraw. His hands released her head, and he lifted himself off and sat down on the bed, still breathing heavily, and grinning at her. "For a rich bitch, you do pretty good," he said grudgingly. "That sure felt good. Okay, baby brother, your turn." Suzanne's eyes opened wide again as she stared at Donald, his penis still projecting menacingly from his pants. "Go on, suck him off, too, you cunt," snapped Ted. "He wants a little." Before she could voice her protests, Donald had straddled her chest and pushed his penis towards her mouth. Again she felt the firmness of male flesh in her mouth, and she began sucking. Donald began groaning immediately, and moving his hips, thrusting his firm organ rapidly in and out of her. She realized he was not as large as his brother, for which she was thankful. At least it was easier to cope with, and subconsciously she knew he was almost at the peak of excitement. She brought her hands up and began fondling his testicles, pulling on them gently, her fingernails trailing through his pubic hair. "Oh, oh, oh," he moaned. "Jeez, that's good. Oh, take it, take it all." Then with a convulsive shudder, she felt him push his organ deep into her throat and hold it there as it throbbed and flexed, shooting his seed into her while she gulped and swallowed. He went soft almost at once, and withdrew, climbing off her and lying down on the bed, panting, and saying how wonderful it had been. She heard Ted laugh softly, and then his hand was in her crotch, his fingers probing greedily into her dripping canal. "Okay, bitch, you ready for some real action now?" She stared at him wordlessly; she felt defiled, degraded, with her mouth still tasting of the hot come and her body aching from the effort and the weight of their bodies on her. She looked down and saw that Ted's penis was hard once again, its slick surface gleaming from the saliva that still clung to it. He had pulled the foreskin all the way back, exposing the wide, red head which shone angrily like a cobra ready to strike. "Spread your legs, baby, poppa's coming in for a landing!" Ted crawled over, and just as he positioned himself between her thighs, Suzanne became suddenly galvanized into action. She raised up from the bed, trying desperately to scramble away. "Oh, no, you don't," snapped Ted, pushing her back. "You grab her, Donald. Hold this bitch while I fuck her." Donald quickly tied her ankles to the bedpost, using her stockings, then moved above her head, his knees pinning her shoulders to the bed and his hands holding her head. "Please ... please ... not that, please not that. I've never done that before. Oh, please, Ted ... Donald ... I'll do anything, but not that." They both stared at her, their faces disbelieving. "Whaddya mean, you ain't done that before?" rasped Ted, his face sneering down at her. "You ain't cherry, is you?" She nodded. "Yes, yes. I've never done that with anyone." Ted looked at Donald, and they both burst into loud contemptuous laughter. "Now I've heard it all," said Ted. "This bitch comes from Grosse Pointe and she says she's cherry. Shit, baby, the chicks I know from Grosse Pointe start fucking when they're six or seven. Don't hand me that shit." He leaned forward, lowering his erect penis between her legs and sliding it slowly up towards her vagina. Suzanne felt the tears start again, and she sobbed uncontrollably. Across her mind flashed an image of Sam, lying next to her, and she knew it could never happen; she would never go to her wedding night a pure virgin. It was happening now, and with someone who was coarse, rough, and didn't care for her at all as a person; to him she was just a sex object. There was no love involved, and to her sex without love was meaningless. Oh, Sam, Sam ... She felt the end of his penis push aside her vulva, and penetrate. She felt the wide, slick surface brush against her clitoris, and she cried out, her body convulsing with the rising tide of her own sexual response. Then she felt a sharp pain, and he stopped thrusting, pausing a moment; then with a vicious jab, he broke through and his entire length slid into her. The exquisite feel of his enormous organ within her vagina overcame the pain she felt, and as he began moving his hips, withdrawing, then plunging back in again, she found her own body joining his in a smooth rhythm. Ted moaned, and heard him speak. "Oh, yes, baby, yes. She's gettin' with it, Donald, she's gettin' with it." Donald was kneeling on the floor, his head level with the bed, his eyes glued on the sight of his brother's penis entering her dripping crack, ramming home so hard that his balls slapped against her bare buttocks every time. Suzanne found her arms going around Ted's back, clawing at his shirt, digging into his flesh beneath. Her breath became deeper and louder; she realized she was no longer crying, but moaning with sublime ecstasy. The moment she had waited so long for had finally happened, and it was better than she had dreamed it would be; more wonderful than her wildest imagination had told her; more stimulating than her momentary masturbation had ever been. She finally had a big cock in her, and she was riding it, taking it all the way up to the hilt, and feeling it probe her depths. Despite her feeling of degradation, she wanted to scream to the rooftops: "Look, I'm fucking. At last, I'm fucking!" She wanted her mother to walk in at that second so she could cry out, "Look, mother, I'm doing it and it's wonderful. He's got the biggest dick in the world and I'm getting fucked by it!" She moved her hips faster and faster to match his growing excitement, and then she heard him grunt and ram his rod deep into her and hold it there. His body shuddered and she felt the warm rush of his come within her, discharging into her and running down between her legs. Then her own insides convulsed, and she cried out as she felt wave after wave of supreme delight wash through her, and she felt herself being lifted, like she was floating on clouds, drifting high above the bed, suspended on the end of his magnificent cock that was buried deep inside her. "You're a good fuck, baby, I'll say that." His words brought her back to earth with a rush, and she felt him roll off her, his penis withdrawing from her. He knelt between her fettered legs, and stared down at her. "Jesus, you really were cherry!" Ted's eyes widened as he saw the telltale bloodstains on the bed and the smears around her pubic area. He frowned down at her, and fumblingly untied her. "How come? How come you wuz cherry?" "Because I was, that's why," Suzanne replied, her voice quavering with the sudden return to reality and the horror she felt within her. "I told you ... I told you ..." And then the tears cascaded down her cheeks, and she rolled over on her stomach, sobbing loudly and almost out of control. She felt the bed move as Ted got up, and there was the rustle of clothing as he and Donald zipped themselves up. "Hey." She heard his voice, but she remained face down. Then she felt his hand on her shoulder, pulling her over. His face glowered down at her. "We're gettin' out of here, but you'd better not say anything about what's happened, you hear?" She stared mutely up at him, biting her lips. "One word out of you, and I'll call your ma and pa up and tell them you've been putting out, you understand? So you keep your goddamn mouth shut." He straightened up, and she looked dumbly at him and Donald as they moved towards the door. They paused and looked back at her. Ted grinned evilly. "You're a good lay," he said grudgingly. "Good enough for a second helping. So maybe we'll be back." He opened the door and they left, slamming the door behind them. As their footsteps clattered down the stairs, Suzanne rolled over and buried her face in the pillow and her body shook with sobs. Slowly she subsided, and was conscious of the chill on her skin. Slowly she eased off the bed and walked into the bathroom. For a moment, she stared at herself in the mirror, at the swollen lips, her red-rimmed eyes, the finger marks on her breasts, and the red smears around her vagina. Almost mechanically, she reached for the faucets and let the hot, steaming water run into the tub, and after adjusting the temperature, she slowly lowered her aching body into the warm depths. She stretched out and closed her eyes. Oh, God, she thought, I pray I don't get pregnant. Please, God, don't let me be pregnant. In the dim recesses of her mind, she heard the voice of her sociology instructor: "Lotsa luck!" 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