No one stirred until noon. Billy awakened first and rose stiffly from the chair he had slept in; he went to the kitchen where he opened the inevitable cold can of beer and found a cigarette. He didn't see Linda's nude form on the couch until he returned to the living room, searching for his shorts. What I need is a quick run into the sea, he decided, to give me an appetite for breakfast. However, seeing the young girl innocently sleeping and no one else around brought his cock rising up, his balls tightening. He lit the cigarette and crept over to Linda's still body but stopped short as he noticed the smashed record player.
I wonder who broke it, he mused, taking a long swig at his beer. Wouldn't be Hugh or Tiger, and certainly not Jenny – must have been bloody old Sludgie! Where in the fuckin' hell is everybody? Opening the bedroom door he found Hugh and Tiger asleep, their arms crossed over Jenny.
He wakened them, brought cold beers and told them of finding the wreckage that had once been a record player. Jenny quickly tumbled out of bed to view the damage, giving a kissing suck to Hugh's cock in the nerve-tingling section just below the head as she went. I'm turned on to men's cocks now! she told Hugh merrily, although she avoided Billy's pass as she rushed out to waken Linda. However, her good humor evaporated at the sight of the wrecked record player – she was furious. Irritably she shook Linda into consciousness, led her to the bathroom and went back to question the life savers sitting on the bed having their first beer of the day. She soon discovered that Sludge-Pump Yates was the last one fucking Linda: it was him all right, the others agreed.
"Right, that does it! Yates is banned from this apartment. And another thing," she yelled, furious that she had slept in, that she had to catch the two-thirty plane to Melbourne and that she would be away until the following Sunday, therefore missing out on some pleasant orgies with the nymphet and Hugh. "When I return I want to see a brand new player."
"We'll all chip in to buy you a new one just as good as the old," Hugh said, winking at his hungover buddies. "Do you agree to that?"
"Sure thing, Hugh," they chorused. Billy added that they would get half the money out of Jim Yates who, he said to Jenny, was about to make some money in a deal in which they were all involved… not much, but they could certainly afford to buy a record player. It would only cost about a hundred dollars.
Jenny distrusted them, knowing that money went through their pockets as fast as beer went down their throats. Anyway, she was in too much of a hurry to think about anything except packing and catching a taxi to Kingsford Smith Airport. She stopped Billy heading for the bathroom and went there herself to join Linda under the shower. She had to break the news that she was going to Melbourne for a series of pictures for a magazine. Lying, to make the girl feel happier, she said that she'd probably return that evening.
Jenny was mystified at Linda's reaction. The girl seemed to be quite apathetic at the idea of being left alone with Hugh, whom Jenny knew couldn't be trusted, and with Billy and Tiger who would fuck any hole with hair around it. They stood close together under the shower, their hair dripping. Jenny wondered if perhaps the pot had damaged the kid's brain. 'Course it couldn't, she reasoned to herself. Just a normal amount and not strong stuff anyway. She drew Linda to her, pressing their wet bodies together.
"What's wrong, my lovely pet? Do you feel sick?" Jenny thought that perhaps she should stay, but breaking a contract could cause loss of work later.
Linda threw her arms around Jenny's waist, pulling her tighter so that their pubic mounds pressed close together.
"I've become a fucking machine, Jenny. I… I just want to be fucked. I love you and I want to be fucked… Jim Yates fucked my bottom last night, and I liked it. I like Hugh to fuck me. I want to lick your cunt, Jenny… I'm a fucking machine…" She burst into hysterical laughter which turned to loud sobs and Jenny led her out of the shower recess to rub her dry with a large towel.
Jenny had never before been faced with this kind of situation. The whole thing had begun as a lark. She had a damned hangover, her mouth tasted like the bottom of a parrot's cage and she was developing a migraine headache. And she had that important job to do.
"Look baby, I love you too and when I get back tonight we can have more fun and games. You can lick my cunt as long as you want. It's just that you're experiencing sex for the first time. All girls like it. So while I'm away just let yourself relax and enjoy it. I only wish I could stay. I like it, too…"
"But don't you see?" the young girl wept as Jenny rubbed her long blonde hair with the towel. "I'm so awfully ashamed of myself. I wanted to marry Tom, my boyfriend. I wanted to save it all up for when we were married. Now I'm craving for cock!" She burst into sobs that shook her body. "I want to fuck and fuck…"
She must still be high, Jenny thought. She's still tripping on those brownies. She plugged in an electric hair dryer to dry her own hair and finish drying Linda's hair. Linda's emotional outburst calmed under the administration of the hot air blowing through her hair and Jenny's caressing hand on her shoulders. When they were dry, Jenny put her arm around the adolescent blonde girl and led her back to the bedroom. She changed the sheets, made up the bed and forced Linda to lie back with her head nestling in a pillow while she busied herself with packing and dressing for the flight. She couldn't help looking at the delightful body stretched full length on the bed and the hand carelessly cupped over the golden-fringed pussy. Her fresh panties were already moistening from an excitement stirring in her own pussy. She swore as she looked at her watch. No time for it, no time even to have one last greedy lick at that temptingly delicate creature. At last, with everything packed, she leaned over the foot of the bed, parted Linda's pretty pink vaginal lips and kissed her suckingly on the clitoris.
"Goodbye my sweet darling. I'll think of you all the way to Melbourne."
Linda moaned, "Oh, don't go now. I want you, oh God, I want you, Jenny."
"No, darling, I must go." And Jenny went out of the room, leaving the door ajar. Hugh was alone in the living room. "Where are the others?" Jenny hoped for a moment that they may have gone back to Brisbane.
"They've got some business to attend to in the city," Hugh lied. "Gotta earn some bread to pay for the record player. When will ya be back, Jenny?"
"Tonight," she said loudly so that Linda could hear, and in a whisper added, "Sunday at the latest. I want to see Linda again before she leaves Australia. Look after her, Hugh, and keep those ruffians away from here. I don't want the apartment wrecked." She offered him her lips and they kissed passionately.
At the front door he kissed her again. "I'm glad you're not all dyke," he said good-humoredly. "I think we're goin' to have more good times together. Perhaps it was those hash cookies you made that made the party go with a bang."
Jenny smiled as he shut the door behind her, and she went out into the blazing sunlight to catch a taxi, little realizing what a devastating effect Hugh's last remark could have on the poor innocent girl listening in the bedroom.
When Hugh looked in she was frenziedly throwing clothes about looking for her dress. "What's up, Princess? Looking for something?" he asked. His shorts were bulging with a growing erection brought on by Jenny's farewell kisses and implied promises for the future.
"I'm getting dressed. I'm going home. I don't want to see you or Jenny ever again," she flung at him. "Get out!" She tried feebly to hit him and began to weep hysterically. "She drugged me, didn't she? She drugged me with hashish."
"Cool it, babe. She had some, too… didn't effect her. Anyway, it was just a little something to make the party swing." He pushed her away and she sat on the bed, her pretty pointed breasts heaving as she held her head in her hands, sobbing. Jenny had deceived her. She hadn't given her the photo. If it was true that a little pot didn't effect Jenny then perhaps it wasn't that; perhaps it was because she really enjoyed what had happened. She was no different from other girls who made love to any man who came along. Her desperate mood gradually subsided. Looking surreptitiously at Hugh's bulging shorts, the sex urge swelled up in her. That's what she wanted: a hot throbbing cock. To hell with Jenny and her vibrator. She wanted that fleshy member Hugh was releasing as he undid his shorts. But first of all she wanted something to eat.
"I'm starving. Get me some food," she demanded, her voice flat and lifeless.
"Sure thing, Princess," he said good-naturedly. "Lie back and wait for it. Orange juice and ham and eggs coming up. I think you're going to earn your keep."
"I'll try," she replied, staring vacantly at his broad shoulders and naked buttocks as he strolled out to the kitchen.
The first acquaintance Tiger Kelly met when he walked into the Surf Club after a swim was Ginger Meggs, a redheaded owner of a fleet of taxis.
"Hear you've got a nice bit of juvenile fluff on the market, Tiger."
"Yeah. Who told you?"
"Bumped into your friend Jim Yates on the promenade. Said she was a fifteen year old blonde from the States. He mentioned something about a hundred dollars for a quickie. Must be mad. What's the real price, Tiger?"
"Sixty dollars but bein' a member of the club she's yours for fifty."
"Make it forty and I'll buy it, sight unseen."
"Jesus, if you saw what a little raver she is you'd want to pay a hundred!" Tiger exclaimed, thinking what a good start he was making. "Beautiful as a film star. Lovely tits, not too small, best ass I've ever seen. And just broken in." He looked at his watch. "I think she'll be free by three o'clock. Sludge… er… I mean Jim Yates is on his way there right now, I reckon, to help Hugh control the crowds."
"Right," agreed Ginger Meggs. "Who do I pay?"
"Give me thirty deposit and the other ten to Hugh Watson when you go into the flat." He gave Ginger the address.
Jim Yates had already taken a customer to the flat. There was no need to search for trade beyond the club despite the fact that it was a Tuesday, for numerous associate members flocked to Sydney's beach clubs from Interstate and up country, and on hot days salesmen, rich businessmen, off-duty policemen and others from all walks of life headed for the beaches during a heat wave.
Without bothering to go into details with Hugh, the other three Brisbane life savers made their own arrangements about profit sharing. Two or three fucks would buy a nice new record player for Jenny… had to keep her happy for future visits to Sydney. They decided that two should canvas the club for trade, taking turns to go up to the apartment to help Hugh: some of these horny bastards were liable to have their fuck and then ask for their money back with the threat of their fists. There was to be no queuing… didn't want to get the neighbors suspicious. Two in at a time. One in the bedroom, one having a free beer while he waited in the living room. All afternoon Tiger and Billy slyly let the word drop that a gorgeous young bird was available in a private flat. Not a hippy, nor a whore, but a sweet middle-class kid who was doing it for fun. The money was for the flat – very expensive. Anyone interested had five days and nights in which to make up his mind. For the first three days they would keep the price at forty to fifty dollars, if the market could stand it, then lower the price every day down to twenty dollars. Anyone wanting two goes at her in one day got a reduction to thirty per. There were exceptions:
"Ever heard of Sergeant Wright?" Billy asked, leaning against the bar with Tiger, sinking large frothy "schooners" of beer.
"Sure, everybody's heard of him. One of the demons from the Vice Squad, ain't he?"
"Yeah. The bastard. Someone pimped about Princess Linda and he comes up to me an' says, 'Hear you've got some imported goods for sale, Mister Sutton.'"
"First I've heard of it, Sergeant," I told him. "'Don't get shy,' he says. 'Just put my name down for a special sale price, will you? I'm off duty tonight at eleven. I'll be there at midnight. I know where it is. Here's ten dollars.'"
"Jesus, what could I do? So I says OK mate, but just for you, not the whole bloody squad."
"No, just me. I'm the only one of us who knows the address – so far."
Tiger interrupted Billy's story of the encounter with the plainclothes policeman from the notorious Vice Squad who were said to make more out of Sydney's brothels than the girls did themselves. "At least we didn't have to bribe the bastard. Wonder how he heard about Linda and where he got the address. As far as I know there have only been six blokes go to the apartment so far."
"There's always some pimp about. All we can hope for now is that no one else from the fuckin' Vice Squad hears about it. When you go up there, Billy, warn Hugh not to ask for any more money when Sergeant Wright turns up and tell him to give him all the booze he asks for. Hugh gets his ten bucks while we get the sweet fuckup."
A new record player had already been chosen, paid for and delivered. They all thought a little music would help provide a suitable atmosphere.
Tiger felt in his pocket the first few crisp ten-dollar bills made so easily in a couple of hours. They would all go back to Brisbane much richer than when they left. Tiger was not very bright but it took little brainwork to add up what Linda could earn in twelve out of every twenty-four hours, over five days. If the gross averaged out to thirty dollars a time, sixty dollars an hour – or maybe more with some young customers who would cum as soon as they got up the little beauty – that should work out to six hundred dollars a day! Three thousand dollars for the working week! Working out his own cut was too much for him.
"Let's have another 'schooner', Billy. We're gonna be rich by Saturday night!" He thought how much the Vice Squad must be raking off in bribes from Sydney's brothels: they're worse than the prostitutes, the bastards, he decided resentfully.
News about the girl spread out of the club to groups of men on the beach and in cafes and bars along the waterfront. Before evening when Sludge-Pump replaced him as a cunt-hustler, Billy was surprised at the variety of demands prospective clients were making. Two hard-bitten weather-worn shearers from a six-month shearing run in the Outback offered a hundred dollars each if they could both fuck her at the same time.
"You mean one up her cunt and the other up her ass?" Billy asked. No, they said, both in her cunt at the same time… did he think they were queer?
An old pervert called Thornton, hearing that an underage girl was whoring in an apartment near the beach said he would pay the fifty if she was thirteen. That was his age limit and she had to suck him off – he couldn't get a hard on for normal coitus.
"Sure," said Tiger, taking forty on the spot. "She'll be fourteen next month and she'll do anything." He wondered if he should phone Hugh to shave off the little patch of golden curls from around Linda's pussy and tell everyone that Linda was only thirteen. No, he finally decided, we'd have more than Sergeant Wright to cope with and all the dirty old men in Sydney would be hammering at the door.
Jim told Tiger how he'd managed to get his monster all the way up her anal passage and invited Tiger to share her with him so he could do it again, after they "shut up shop" that night.
"Tonight, after the last customer," he grinned lasciviously. "Yeah, after the pubs shut," Tiger agreed.
The girl lying naked on the bed in the apartment overlooking Bondi's golden beach looked more like twenty than fifteen. There were dark shadows under her eyes, her blonde hair was matted from neglect, her down-drawn mouth was that of a jaded moll and her legs were spread sluttishly apart. She hardly ever bothered to change her position unless one of Hugh's numerous "friends" asked her to turn over or sit up to suck. For four days she had only left the bedroom to visit the bathroom or watch a midnight movie on television. Occasionally she ate a proper meal cooked for her by Hugh, otherwise she kept to her diet of hash cakes and vodka-spiked Cokes. Her body still glowed with the youth of a fifteen year old, contrasting with the dull expressionless face. She "entertained" these friends of Hugh's from about eleven in the morning until midnight. She was hardly conscious of whether it was day or night. She didn't care.
There was no feeling left in her except a constant flame of desire in her cunt. Strange, leering faces breathed beer odors into hers; sometimes she was hurt, men squeezing her firm young breasts, shoving fingers roughly into her anus, digging their fingernails into the tender flesh of her back and buttocks. Both her lips were bruised and swollen, the result of cruel bites from drunks and sadists. She had a cigarette burn mark near the pink nipple of one breast, a scar across her thigh, caused by the flailing belt buckle swung by a middle-aged drunk who insisted on being called sergeant, and her neck was covered with blood bruises.
She hardly slept during the long hours when no one called at the apartment. Late at night when she went back to bed from watching television there was always a bed companion for the night: Tiger or Sludge-Pump – sometimes both. She called him Sludge-Pump now. She loathed both of them, if she got around to thinking about it. She didn't care what they did with her: in fact, her orgasms were always much greater when they had her together late at night or before they went down for their morning swims in the surf. One day she would go down with Jenny's board and swim out into the cool Pacific to cleanse herself of the nightmare she was enduring, suffering it because her mind was too pathetically weakened to deny the demands of her genitals or the fire of sensual desire raging day and night throughout her entire system.
One day, she couldn't remember which, she wrote a letter to her parents, a short note about how happy she was tripping around Queensland with Jenny. Hugh dictated the letter which he sent to a friend at Rockhampton to post back to Mr. and Mrs. Spender at Bondi Beach. She had written again, intending to throw the letter out of the window in the hope that someone would post it to her parents, but by then she had forgotten the address and the phone number; she wasn't allowed to use the phone and she was never left alone.
On the fifth day she asked for a television set to be installed in the bedroom so Hugh hired one which she left turned on all day, the sound turned up. She stared with drugged eyes, the sound drowning out the constant vulgarities pouring into her ears, while Hugh's friends ravished her. Instead of one or two men standing in the doorway while another lustily rammed and bounced her in the bed, the living room seemed packed with men drinking, talking, swearing and discussing money: "twenty dollars" were the only intelligible words she could distinguish from the babble of voices. Once she had counted the men who fucked her one way or the other during the day, feeling a strange kind of perverted satisfaction in knowing that she had cum so many times, feeling at the same time a relief that she should not have to see those friends of Hugh's again.
She couldn't count now. There were too many. One after the other. Undressing hurriedly, flopping heavily onto her body, squeezing her breasts, fumbling to find the entrance to her vagina, shoving hard into her wet crotch and kissing hard on her bruised lips as they rammed into her. As soon as the fuck finished in a grunting climax she would turn her head to watch the television until the man dressed and another came to stand by the bed, dropping his pants to reveal an erect cock and ripping off his shirt; she would watch until the new friend pulled her face around for the expected kiss.
She stopped eating the day before, refusing a greasy stew someone offered her during the short evening break and now, after twenty-four hours she felt no appetite, merely a thirst for vodkas and Coke. She never answered any questions, the only time she spoke was when Hugh would come into the bedroom.
"Where's Jenny? Is Jenny back?" she would ask listlessly.
She intended to kill Jenny. Why, she could not remember. She had a long pair of scissors on the dressing table. She wanted Jenny so that she could stick the scissors in her guts.
The life savers were worried enough about her deteriorating condition to put the closed sign up early that night. Jenny might return on the ten o'clock plane and Linda might pass out completely from lack of food and sleep. She looked terrible. Tiger was sent to stand outside the entrance of the apartment building to warn all clients that the girl had gone and that a respectable lady had taken over the apartment. They regretted their decision, thinking that perhaps Linda could fuck on until ten.
Their decision was enforced by the law. Sergeant Wright, with four officers; from his squad, arrived at half-past eight. It was the first time the sergeant had been back and this time it was semi-official in that he was prepared to use his authority if Hugh and his friends didn't comply with his requests. The apartment quickly emptied of horny drunks when the cops walked in. The word would spread throughout the club that the place had been raided. The "Princess brothel", as the apartment had become known at the club and with local taxi drivers, was now permanently closed.
"Yes," Sergeant Wright said to Hugh as they stood in the kitchen with the door closed. "Five hundred dollars is a very fair contribution to the Police Fund. I don't think it'll break you boys. If your father wasn't a police sergeant, Hugh Watson, the donation would have been about two thousand. We know that the four of you have been very lucky in business lately."
He couldn't quite catch Hugh's mumbled reply. He heard him clearly enough offer him and the other plain-clothes officers an hour or two with the blonde nymphet, an offer he refused, having looked at the bedraggled creature curled on the bed, staring at a television program of life in a convent.
"Well, good luck boys in the championships at Coogee tomorrow. I think you'd better have an early night, don't you? And send that girl away… she might give the neighborhood a bad name. Goodnight." The sergeant walked out, followed by his men. They would collect fifty each and he would give his wife three hundred to stash away in her secret bank account. A good start to a busy Saturday night… next there would be the exercise of punching drunks before a free late supper downtown at Sammy's nite-spot. He wondered how a young girl like that American whore could age so much in five days. Probably drugs! Remembering that Hugh's father was a dumb cop on the beat in Brisbane he resisted the temptation to turn back. Hugh was probably giving some of his earnings to his old man. He looked like a nice kid.
"That's the end of the party, boys!" the nice kid was saying as he held up a beer-glass full of champagne. "Here's to the little Princess!" The others interrupted their counting of hundreds of fives and tens to lift their mugs of champagne to the toast. "Here's to the little Princess!"
"Come out and join us, Linda," Billy called. "The party's over. Come and have a farewell drink!"
There was no reply. Linda was asleep with the light blazing over the bed, the television blaring. Billy went in, turned out the light and switched off the set. He shut the door softly. Tomorrow, someone would have to deliver her to wherever she lived. Tomorrow was Sunday. Another surf carnival with hundreds of luscious young birds wanting to be picked up by glamorous life savers.
Linda slept for twelve hours, a dreamless uninterrupted sleep that enabled her youthful reserves to resuscitate her nervous and physically exhausted body. When Hugh and Billy awakened her she drank her orange juice and ravenously ate her ham and eggs. She asked for the television to be switched on, feeling cheated when Hugh shook his head.
"The party's over, Princess."
"Don't call me that. My name's Linda. Do you want to fuck me, Hugh? Do you, Billy?"
They both laughed. They were dressed in their green surfing costumes with that odd zig-zagged stripe of red running all the way down to their bulging genitals.
"Time for a surf before you go home, Linda," Hugh said. "You haven't tried Jenny's board yet."
"Is Jenny here? I want to talk to her."
"No, she's been delayed in Melbourne. Here, put on this bikini and we'll go down to the beach." He gave her one of Jenny's bikinis which she slowly pulled on and they each held her arms to guide her unsteadily down to the beach. Tiger and Sludge-Pump had gone with the rest of the Brisbane team over to the beach at Coogee.
Walking into the sea, the first small wave rolling near the shore knocked her over, her legs weak from lying in bed for five days and nights. They held her up as succeeding waves rolled in. They tried to get her on the surfboard but she kept slipping off so they let her swim, holding her head up when the force of waves threatened to dump her. After half an hour a weak smile came to her lips as she sensed her freedom and her body responded to the revitalizing action of the sea.
"Time to go back," Hugh announced, holding her hand to lead her regretfully from the water.
"I won't go back with you. I want to stay here," she begged, fearful that her liberation from that apartment was about to end, that she would again have to endure the terrifying nightmare. "I… I know where I live. I'm going home to my parents."
"Sure you are, Linda. As soon as you wash the salt water off and get dressed you'll be free to go home. I promise." Hugh gave her his best winning smile. Jesus, I don't want a scene on the beach. The bitch might start callin' for the cops. They both breathed a sigh of relief when she stopped trying to go back into the surf and walked with them towards the promenade. Back in the apartment they showered her, shampooed her hair, dried it with the blower, dressed her and told her to use Jenny's cosmetics to hide some of the marks on her neck. They were proud of their work: they'd never groomed a girl before. They dressed in shirts and shorts, packed their carnival gear into a bag and escorted Linda along the street to her apartment.
"Er, you'd better explain to your parents about your swollen mouth, Linda. Tell 'em you fell of a horse up in Queensland," Hugh said as they stopped outside the entrance to her apartment building. "Well, eh, cheerio, Linda. It's been nice, er, meetin' you."
Linda entered the building without a word and without glancing back. She couldn't believe it was all over and that they were actually letting her go. She let herself into the apartment, a nervous apprehension stirring in her stomach. The place was empty. On her bed she found a note: "Darling Princess. In case you return while we're at church: welcome home! We're longing to see you. Lots of love, Mom and Dad."
Tears welled up in her eyes. How could I ever have blamed them for what they did at home that night? she thought guiltily. I willingly submitted to degrading acts which they would never believed existed. In a way she wished she could tell them about it but she never could – the generation gap was far too wide.
Quantas flew its jumbo jet out of Kingsford Smith Airport on the first leg of its flight to San Francisco, an early morning flight with Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Spender and daughter Linda among the first-class passengers. Linda gazed out at a cloudless sky, as the jet made its curving climb, looking back at the golden strips of sand running disconnected for miles along the Australian coast. She picked out Bondi Beach, the first strip of sand south of the harbor heads, and instead of feeling tired and happy now that she was flying far away from the scene of her degradation, she felt sad and humiliated. She had arrived in Sydney almost believing that she was a princess. She could now see herself in perspective, and though very much sadder she believed she was a little wiser than when she had rushed, carefree and innocent into the surf that day two weeks ago.
The sun cast its rays through the window of the huge plane, Linda feeling the heat of it through her thin cotton dress, gradually inducing a feeling of euphoria, listlessness that allowed her body to relax in the semi-reclined seat. Her hand resting in her lap, she unconsciously pressed gently down on the swollen mound. She did not think of Hugh, Billy, Tiger, Jim and Jenny; she thought of Tom, her decent, well-bred boyfriend waiting for her at Long Beach. She thought of his rather small, white cock. She felt sexier. She thought of how things would be different this time, when they were again together in his convertible. She covered her hand with her sweater so that she could press her middle finger down into the soft lips to stroke her clitoris. She wouldn't shy away from Tom. She would suck his cock and fill her mouth with the creamy cum that had once so terrified her. She would take him and all of his friends from his class, if they wanted her. She thought of Tom's thirteen year old sister: she was almost ripe! Princess Linda would give them all a royal fuck. Fuck! What a lovely word!
"You all right, Princess?" called her father from across the aisle.
"Yes, Daddy. I'm perfectly content," she replied. "But I sure can't wait to get home."