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Abruptly the cock pulled away from Liz's mouth. Drops of come dribbled onto her face as her uncle stood. She let her head fall to the carpet. The aftertaste of the potent come that soaked her tongue was harsh and sickening.

"But what are you going to do with her?" she heard Miss Fletcher asking. "If she tells anybody what's happening… they might not understand your methods."

Liz's uncle nodded. "You're right, my dear. This will bear some thought."

Shuddering, Liz began to cry.

CHAPTER THREE

"So you want to unload this trim little piece," the slim dapper man said, longing in his leather covered chair. Reverend Rogers stiffened. "My good man, I assure you…"

The smaller man waved impatiently. "I don't want to hear it. I don't care. What matters to me is the quality of the merchandise, not, its past history – or your reason for selling."

He puffed at his cigarette through a long ebony holder, and looked at Liz. She was perched on the edge of a chair. The coy white blouse, a brief red skirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, made her look even younger than she was. But the impression was somewhat weakened by the womanly thrust of her jugs pressing hard against the front of her blouse. Feeling the man's black eyes on her, she tugged her hem down lower along her slender thighs.

She was numbed by the events of the past twenty-four hours. Her uncle had dressed her after raping her, then bundled her into a closet and locked her inside. After a while she had dozed off, but the sounds of the evening services had awakened her. Her cries for help had been drowned out by the organ, and by the voices of the congregation loudly singing hymns.

Eventually, Miss Fletcher had opened the door of the closet. Rogers' belt had been in her hand. She'd slashed Liz smartly across the tits a few times, and warned her to be quiet or she'd get worse.

Liz had gotten the definite impression the statuesque blonde would have enjoyed inflicting all kinds of agonizing tortures on her. Then Miss Fletcher had locked her back in the closet. Somehow Liz knew her uncle's secretary felt that, by whipping her naked jugs, she was doing the younger girl a favor. That outlook horrified Liz more than out-and-out sadism would have.

They'd brought food to her later, a tasteless hamburger and a watery milkshake. She'd spent a restless night locked in the closet. In the morning her uncle had made her shower in his office bathroom he had a specially-built shower stall in the john. Once she'd dried, herself and dressed in the fresh clothes Miss Fletcher had brought her, her uncle had put her in the car and driven her to this place.

It was a small motel on the eastern side of town. Despite the run-down appearance of the exterior, the manager's office was beautifully done up in costly, shiny oak and leather. The small, elegantly dressed manager looked like some European noble, here in his splendid den.

His eyes met hers. She dropped her eyes and blushed. The man threw back his head and laughed.

"I like that! She's a natural, I'll say that for you, Mister Roberts." The way he paused and smiled sidelong at the preacher made the taller man shift uncomfortably in his seat. "She looks and acts like a perfect innocent, but she's got jugs on her like a Guernsey cow! And she looks like – deep down inside – she loves the feel of a good hard cock any way she can get it. The girl next door – who puts out! What a perfect combination!"

Liz blushed still more hotly. The man was talking about her as if she were no more than an object, a mere piece of property to be bartered and used. She wanted to say something to wipe the smug smile off of the thin man's face, but there were no words with which to do it.

"Come over here, darling," the man said.

Liz looked instinctively to her uncle. Rogers looked studiedly away.

"I said, come over here!" he repeated.

His voice rang like a command. Hesitantly, Liz got to her feet and walked over to the man's chair to stand beside it. She clasped her hands coyly in front of her crotch.

He reached up and squeezed a ripe tit. She gasped, and bit her lip. "What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked.

She didn't want to tell him anything. But something told her that for all the smoothness of the small man's manner, there was a deep vein of cruelty in him that made her uncle's self-righteous sadism seem a mild joke in comparison.

"Liz," she said, shuddering with fear.

He nodded. "Call me Danny." He fondled her jug. To her own astonishment she felt her nipple hardening at his firm touch.

Danny turned his head toward Rogers. "What do you want for her?"

The preacher's answer was inaudible.

"Speak up, man! What's the price?" Danny began to unbutton the girl's blouse.

"A thousand dollars."

Danny frowned, Liz's blouse half undone. "That's pretty heavy, with money tight as it is. Have to try her out first and make damn sure she's worth that kind of investment."

Liz felt her blood run cold. The reluctant arousal she had been getting from his kneading of her boob evaporated. She was meat on the hook to him, and nothing more. She felt humiliated, demeaned.

He glanced up at her. "What're you waiting for? Strip!"

Her hand went to her throat. She looked from Danny to her uncle. Uncle Joseph was looking at her with a definite gleam in his eye. The dirty old hypocrite! she thought. She could feel how eager he was to see her disrobe and submit to Danny's lust!

She longed for the strength to defy the two men, but she simply didn't have it. Her tender ass and tits still ached from the whipping they'd received the day before.

Danny put his cigarette holder to his lips and puffed till the coal at the end of the cigarette glowed a bright red. The meaning wasn't lost on the girl, as innocent as she was. She thought about having that red-hot coal pressed to her naked boob, and she shivered.

Hastily she unbuttoned the blouse and took it off.

Making no production of it, she reached behind, she reached behind, unfastened her bra, and took it off. Her tits swayed slightly as she tossed it aside. In spite of herself she felt her nipples hardening again under the pressure of Danny's lustful eyes. Her boobs swung toward the small man's face as she unbuttoned her skirt and pulled it down her legs to step out of it. She straightened, put her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, then hesitated. She was already half naked before uncle and a total stranger. Could she go through with it?

The cigarette glowed again. She felt an odd tingling in her bared tits. She pulled her panties quickly off and stood upright, revealed in all her naked splendor. Danny pursed his lips and whistled appreciatively. The bitch certainly looks like first class stuff, there was no denying that, he thought. Her legs and waist were adolescently slim, almost skinny. But her jugs were ripe and full, and her hips delightfully padded. She was a combination of child and woman that no man could resist. Her skin was smooth and shiny, her nipples taut in the circular areolas, her cunt fur a chestnut delta.

A truly delectable vision! he thought hotly.

He scooted his hips forward in his chair. "Undo my pants and get my cock out into the open, baby."

Liz heard a small, stifled noise from her uncle. She thought about it as she dropped slowly to her knees in front of the dapper man. As her fingers sought his zipper and began to open his fly, she ventured a sidelong glance at her uncle, sitting across the room.

His face was red as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes. He was getting horny, watching his naked niece kneel before the smaller man. But he was also jealous!

Liz felt a hungry stirring in her cunt. Here was a way to get back at her uncle! Her fingers dipped into the small man's underwear, and closed around a hard, hot bar of cock. She tugged the prick free of Danny's pants and wrapped her lips around the cone shaped cockhead.