“That's it,” he gasped eagerly, kissing me very hard and fondling my breast with his left hand now, while his right went back to force my bottom so that I lay tight against him, side by side, on the bed. “Stroke it very slowly and lightly down to the roots, Lucille. Get it ready to poke you… So you've never been poked between those lovely bare legs, eh, you pretty, impudent, naughty little girl?”

“Oh, no, no. Oh, I beg you, w-won't you be s-satisfied now… and let me go, Mr. Raleigh?” I sobbed as I hesitantly grasped and stroked his hard… thing. It was throbbing now… just as my poor bottom was… and I was dying of shame… Would my father and mother have let him do this shameful thing to me, if they had known? But what could I do now?

“I am becoming angry with you, my dear, and let me hear just one more protest of any kind tonight and you'll regret it and so will that lovely bare behind of yours,” was his cruel answer.

“Oh-pl-please-I… I'll do what you say… but… oh… I… d-don't… know what you… w-want me… t-to do… Please, I… I'll try my best to please you, only… only, I… I've never done a thing like this ever before,” I sobbed in my shame and despair.

“I'll tell you what to do, never fear,” he laughed thickly, squeezing my breast and bottom with a liberty and greediness that made me die of embarrassment. I wished with all my heart I had not been pretty, as then I would not have made him want to buy me from my parents and whip and terrorize me into this wicked thing.

He made me open my lips again so he could run his tongue into my mouth, and I felt his panting breath on my face. I held his… thing — I could not bring myself to use the ugly word he referred to it by-in my hand and the other arm lay about his neck… just as if we were a happily married couple on our wedding night.