Tuesday, July 12, 1966 8:45 PM (San Francisco)
Lillian Diamond looked idly at her reflection in the downtown bus station window. Her plain print blouse was modestly buttoned up to her neck, but still showed off her big breasts. Her ankle-length gingham skirt was stretched tightly over her wide hips. Long straight brown hair cascaded over her shoulders and ran down her back.
She turned around and scanned the bus station, smiling slightly at the way the men in the big room looked at her. A college student in a ROTC uniform was trying not to stare, and failing miserably. She rewarded him with a long particularly warm smile. He blushed and grinned self-consciously.
Lil glanced at the wall clock. It was time. She picked up the small brown suitcase and stepped out into the darkness.
She'd been a Kansas commodity dealer's mistress until he'd caught her in bed with his 18-year-old son and another high school boy. He'd given her money and told her to leave town.
In San Francisco, she'd spent a few months waiting tables, sleeping with a few customers for extra cash. One of the men was a photographer who saw her potential and introduced her to some important people.
Now, the tame skin mags were publishing her bikini and modestly topless shots, and her hard-core stuff was getting big in the underground porn market.
She did all right from the photos and dancing in strip clubs, but still made most of her money as a call girl. She got $75-100 for each trick after Stu, her "manager," took his share.
This customer called her private phone number and offered $1,000 for a leather scene. Enough to risk breaking the rules. She agreed to meet him secretly.
An old tan Ford pulled up and a young man got out. She looked him over carefully as he walked around the car to open the passenger door, smiling at his moderately handsome face and hard athletic body.
He glanced at the suitcase. "That it?"
"Yeah. Just like you wanted."
She kept glancing at him as they drove through the night, feeling smug with 10 crisp new $100 bills in her purse. This would be fun, unlike the rich old farts who usually hired her. Fortunately, most of them couldn't get it up. The things they made her do were bad enough.
"You must really like Leather Factory."
"The cigar store clerk said they were selling a lot of copies." Although pornography was illegal, the glossy magazines were available under the counter at many news dealers.
Lil grinned. "That's great. I got paid $300 for the session. I'll ask for more next time."
She opened her legs and pulled her skirt up, showing off her thin lace panties in the dashboard light. "Nice." He fondled her bare thigh briefly, then put his hand back on the steering wheel.
They stopped in front of a run-down building in a decayed industrial area. He punched a button and a garage door opener growled to life. They pulled into a two-car garage, with a beat-up old van parked in the other space.
Lil grabbed her suitcase from the back seat and followed him through a door on their side of the garage.
Most of the neat, impersonal apartment was one big room. One end was a kitchen, with a table and chairs. The front door, flanked by tiny windows covered with thick cloth curtains, was at the other end. Motel-art prints of sailboats decorated the walls. The kitchen floor was dull white linoleum. Pale blue-green carpet covered the rest of the space.
The bedroom door was in the wall opposite the garage entrance. A medium-sized sofa sat beside it. An old television, a cheap stereo, a coffee table, an easy chair, and a small end table completed the room's furnishings.
She followed him into the bedroom. It was as plain as the living room, decorated with more generic prints, flowers this time. The pale-green carpet continued from the living room. There was a comfortable-looking double bed, a dresser and a straight-backed chair. Closed curtains covered windows in the front and side walls. A closet and bathroom door, both open, occupied the back wall.
He pulled Lil into his arms and kissed her long and hard. She melted into the kiss, plastering her body against his.
He let her go. "Take your clothes off."
She unbuttoned her modest blouse and set it on the dresser, revealing her black low-cut bra. "You like this?"
He grinned at her cleavage. "Nice. Keep going."
She took off the long gingham skirt, showing him her frilly black lace panties and black nylons. He smiled and gestured to continue.
Lil took off her practical brown shoes, then the bra, panties, and stockings. He stared at her, but didn't say a word.
Naked, she faced him, hands on hips and feet set widely apart. "Like it?"
"Of course. Now, put the costume on."
Lil was wearing the gold ring her lover had given her. She'd forgotten to take it off before leaving her apartment. She stuck it in her purse before opening the suitcase.
She put on the black leather harness, decorated with thin chrome chains, followed by shiny black thigh-high boots, fastened to the harness with black leather garters. She took the makeup kit into the bathroom, working her hips, feeling him stare at her rolling buttocks and swaying breasts.
A little dark oil turned her brown hair slick and black. She tied it in a pony tail that hung half way down her back. Black mascara and eyeliner, along with blood-red lipstick, changed her blue eyes and open face to something dark and primal.
Elbow-length fingerless black leather gloves and steel bracelets completed the costume. "Is this what you want?"
He looked her up and down carefully. "Perfect."
"Do you do acid?" He removed a small bottle from a dresser drawer and shook two tiny pills onto the palm of his hand. Wordlessly, she took one and popped it into her mouth. He swallowed the other. "Let's go into the living room. I've got wine."
Lil followed him to the kitchen and pressed her breasts against his back while he was busy with the corkscrew. He turned and kissed her hard, then gently pushed her away. "Let's smoke some pot."
They sat on the couch with their knees touching, sipping wine. He opened a little polished wood box on the coffee table. It was full of perfect machine-rolled joints, with tiny fleur-de-lis printed on the thick paper.
In the next half-hour, they smoked three joints and drank most of the wine. He wanted to know about her tricks. It was weird, sitting beside a fully-clothed man, wearing a few thin leather straps and telling him about her sexual experiences, but the marijuana and wine took the edge off. His face remained impassive, but she was glad to see a big bulge in his slacks.
He poured the rest of the wine into their glasses. "What did you tell your manager? Does anyone else know what you're doing?"
"I told everybody I'd be visiting a girlfriend in L.A." She giggled. "I didn't say exactly when I'd be back . . ."
"Wow, this wine is really intense. It smells like it's burning . . . burning grapes." Lil giggled again. "But sweet . . ." She finished the glass and made a face. "Bitter, too."
"It's hot in here." She stood up and moved to the center of the room, arching her back and cupping her breasts. Her nipples were already hard.
A brilliant light dazzled her. He was still sitting on the couch, doing something with a Polaroid camera. He set the camera on the floor beside the easy chair, opened the funny-looking envelope he'd pulled from its body, and removed a photograph.
He smiled and laid the photo on the end table before looking up at her. Lust, and something else, distorted his face. Darkness spread on the wall behind him. She shuddered and closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the darkness was gone, but reappeared after several seconds, growing from a tiny spot behind his left shoulder.
"Good acid, isn't it?" He drained his glass and set it on the coffee table. She seemed to be looking at him through water. His voice grew louder and softer in time with the ripples on the surface between them.
"I've never felt anything like this," Lil turned in a slow circle, staring at the changing room. The walls were breathing, the soulless art bending with the plaster and paint as it slowly moved in and out.
Tiny little spider patterns of rainbow colors had gathered in the corners where the walls met the ceiling. The pale blue-green carpet turned to ocean waves when she looked down at it, but the floor remained firm under her feet.
He stood up and took her in his arms. She looked into his eyes. His pupils were black caves with red embers glowing at the back.
They kissed open-mouthed. For an instant he had a lizard's tongue, then it became human again. He pulled away.
He undressed, folding his clothes and setting them neatly on the coffee table. His naked body was as sexy and athletic as she'd expected. His cock wasn't hard yet, but it had already grown long and thick.
He reached behind the couch and pulled out a pair of shiny black work boots. Heat built between her thighs and her nipples grew even tighter as she watched him put them on. He caught her hand as she reached between his legs.
"Come on." He led her through the garage and opened the door opposite the apartment entrance. It was dark inside. She hesitated. "This is 'The Factory.'" He pulled her into the darkness.
It was a big room. The sharp scent of oil hung in the air. He flipped a switch and strategically-positioned spotlights illuminated key areas.
Hideous black creatures moved in the shadows while metal monsters glared and reached for her with greedy steel fingers. She screamed and tried to run, but his arm went around her waist like a steel band, holding her in place. "It's all right." He pulled their bodies together and kissed her, long and hard.
Lil closed her eyes and concentrated on his lips and the pressure of his body against hers. When she looked again, the machines were . . . just machines, looming but inanimate.
She took several deep breaths and tried to slow her pounding heart. This was just another kinky game. No real danger. "This is some dungeon."
"It used to be a machine shop. I kept some of the equipment for decoration."
He flipped more switches and she gasped in surprise. There were two other people in the room. A naked man and a woman dressed in leather and chains, just like . . . them. She was looking at their reflection in the mirrors that covered the wall.
Lil moved toward the mirrored wall, drawing strength from her dominating image. She turned back to face him. "Tell me what you want. Unless you want me to tell you."
He picked up a coiled rope resting on top of a small steel cabinet and held it out toward her. "This."
"No cuts or bruises." Lil unconsciously took a step backward. "Nothing Stu can see. That's the deal."
"Don't worry about Stu." He set the coil back on the table. The dark caves of his eyes suddenly glowed with fire as stepped forward and drove his fist into her solar plexus.
Lil doubled over, conscious but unable to move. He gripped her shoulders and guided her toward the brightly-lit area in the center of the room.
She recovered a bit on the way and grabbed his ankle, almost throwing him to the floor. While he was still unbalanced, she spun around, driving her knee towards his groin. He twisted, taking the impact on his thigh.
He pushed her toward a metal bench with wrist and ankle shackles fastened to its frame. Her face, chest, and belly slammed down onto the bench.
Stunned, she couldn't resist while he locked the cuffs around her wrists, stretching her arms down toward the floor. She tried to kick him in the teeth while he cuffed her booted ankles, but he dodged her and secured the buckles after a brief struggle.
He fastened her lower legs to the bench with wide leather straps, then left the room.
Lil lifted her head and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her nose hurt, but it wasn't broken or even bleeding.
He returned, carrying the Polaroid camera, and moved to the head of the bench.
Lil looked at him angrily. "Why the hell did you do that?"
His head was gone, replaced by the camera. As she stared into its single glass eye, he answered. He couldn't mean it, but she knew he did. The flashbulb exploded in her eyes.
The flash had blinded her, but she could hear him walking away. He stopped somewhere behind her. It sounded like he was fiddling with the camera.
When he came back and stopped in front of her, she could see again. He had a full hard-on and was holding a length of thin rope running through a hard rubber ball and a thick wooden dowel.
He patted her head the way she used to pet Blondie, then moved beside her and placed the ball in the soft spot just under her Adam's apple. "No! Please don't!"
The rope tightened around her throat and she could feel him tying a knot. It pressed into the nape of her neck. He was doing something else. Attaching the dowel, she guessed.
He felt between her legs, then slid a finger into her pussy. It went in easily, despite her terror. "Whore." He pulled his finger out. "Ready to mate, like a bitch in heat." He took her with one violent thrust.
"Here's how it works. I twist the noose . . ." The rope tightened, cutting her air to a trickle. ". . . and you strangle. I can see your face in the mirror. You can watch everything, too." She heard herself making a harsh rasping sound as she struggled to draw air into her burning lungs.
The noose pulled her head back and she stared into the mirror. A demon's reflection gazed into her eyes. Her vision blurred. When it cleared, he'd become a man again.
"You're a whore and a slut. Tell me you deserve to die. Beg me." He loosened the noose enough to let her speak. "Maybe I'll spare you."
Now Lil knew the John's sick game. It didn't matter how much he'd paid. She'd tell Stu and he'd cut the asshole's nuts off. For real. She hoped she could watch. Stu would punish her, but it would be worth it.
"I'm an evil slut and a wicked whore." It was hard to get enough air to talk. "I deserve to die!"
"Do you want me to execute you before you harm more men?" His whisper was tender. Like a lover's.
"Yes!" Lil rasped. "Kill me! Please!"
He laughed. "As you wish." The rope tightened viciously, pulling the ball into her airway and cutting her breath off completely.
* * *
He held the dowel for a long time after he'd finished with her. In the mirror, Lil's eyes were open, staring sightlessly at their reflections. He lowered her head and ran his hands tenderly over her still-heated body.
She'd been perfect. Two of the girls had cursed him. It was more satisfying when the whore pronounced her own death sentence.
He took several Polaroid shots of her sprawled face-down on the bench. Each time, he pulled the thick paper out of the camera and counted 60 seconds before peeling the developed positive and negative apart. Later, he'd coat the positive prints with fixative to keep them from fading and burn the negative packets in a steel barrel behind the building.
He released her from the restraints, lowered her body to the floor, then took more pictures. When he'd finished, he removed the garrote from her throat and placed it back in its drawer, then took Lil's arms and dragged her to the electric-powered hoist.
The steel cable dangling from the machine's long arm ended in a wide loop. He placed the loop around her throat with the cable positioned behind her left ear, then operated the hoist's controls, lifting Lil until the soles of her boots barely touched the floor.
When he was satisfied with the way she was positioned, he put the camera on its tripod and attached a timer to its shutter release. He took several shots with the timer, grinning and waving his hard-on at the camera as he fondled her.
"Lillian Diamond. Sexy Diamond Lil." He laughed as he stored the camera in the small steel cabinet.
He opened the drawer, took out two tiny objects and returned to her, trying to memorize every detail for his diary.
"Here's a present for you, Diamond Lil."
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Copyright © 2018 by Ken James