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Susan straightened herself up bravely and walked to her mother's door. She raised her fist to knock and suddenly froze to the floor.

There was a groan from the room!

Oh my God, she's hurt, she thought, and her first reaction was to jerk the door open as fast as she could. She reached for the handle in the darkness and as her hand came into contact with the cool metal door knob, she froze again.

There was a harsh male laugh!

Good Lord, what was going on? Who was in there with her and what was he doing to her? It sounded as though he were hurting her.

There was another groan but it was longer this time and had an unearthly pleading tone to it as though someone were being tortured. The groan was followed by harsh slapping sounds as though someone were being hit across the face with a hand.

Susan dropped her hand from the door handle and started to back away, holding her breath and moving as softly as she possibly could. If she could just get to a phone and call the police before they discovered her, perhaps she could save her mother's life. She stepped back a few paces in the darkness, being careful not to trip, and then turned to work her way down the stairs. There was phone in the hall just below the stairs. If she could make that, she could talk in a whisper and who ever it was beating her mother could not hear it. It was then that the pleading voice spoke again.

"Oh God! Yessss, yessss, do it to me like that!"

It was her mother again and her voice was drunkenly slurred in a desperate pleading tone she had never heard before. Susan paled in the darkness and stood still for a moment. She was uncertain what to do now. The man was obviously hurting her but it didn't sound like it was against her will the way she was almost crying for him to continue. What should she do? Perhaps he was making her plead with him-perhaps he was a sadist like some of the men she had read about in her Psychology course and enjoyed hearing a woman beg.

She was almost ready to begin her descent down the stairs to phone again when the noises suddenly grew louder. There was a second male voice that she could not make out too distinctly through the heavy thickness of the door, but it was unmistakably egging someone on to do something to her mother. Her voice was muffled and sobbing but clearly not against her will. She was asking for it, in fact, pleading for more. Susan stood breathlessly on the Ianding, trying to make up her mind what to do. She couldn't call the police or anyone else unless she was certain what was going on.

She had to find out and there was only one way!

She took a deep breath and worked her way slowly and silently back toward the door. She knew it by heart now-after all the times she had slipped from her own room as a child to that of her parents when she had been frightened by a bad dream or strange noise in the house. She could remember vividly, even after all these years, the exact amount of pressure to put on the knob to turn it without making a sound. All of it came back to her as she reached forward through the darkness and pressed her hand against it. Her whole body tensed as it turned slightly, and she felt it begin to give against the pressure.

There was a squeak!

Her heart stopped and she dared not breath. They must have heard it; it had been so loud. But no, there were still the strange noises coming through the door without letup, their intensity increasing with each passing moment. The door gave a little against her gentle pressure and the noises through the opening became more clear to her senses. She could discern the sounds of heavy rushed breathing and the staccato sounds of squeaking bedsprings punctuated by animal-like grunts and moans of pain and pleasure. A thin crack of light rushed into the hallway as she inched the door open a millimeter at a time. The light blinded her and she could not see for a moment-but the sounds continued unabated by her silent and unknown intrusion.

Her eyes adjusted to the intensity of the narrow path of light streaming into her face and the easy chair in the corner of the bedroom came into view

She paled again and sucked in her breath in horror!

It was Mr. Evans. He was sitting back in the chair completely naked and holding his hard rigid penis tightly between both his hands. His eyes were glazed and he stroked the long hard instrument up and down in lewd rhythmic time to the now wet sucking noises she could hear coming from the bed across the room. Susan could not see what was making the sounds as she was afraid to open the door farther just yet. Mr. Evans was so close to her she was afraid to even breath for fear he might hear her. Instead, she stood immobile for a moment and watched in horrified fascination as his fingers skinned the thick foreskin of his uncircumcised penis rapidly up and down the full length of it, the huge bulbous head bursting evilly into view like a giant monster crawling from a secret lair with each hard down-stroke he made with his hand. She was close enough that she could see that it was wet on the top from the white, sticky lubricating fluid beginning to ooze forth from it. His breathing was thick and heavy and she could see thin trails of saliva running down his lips as he kept his eyes glued tightly to the bed just out of her view. His penis frightened her as she had never seen one before, and it looked like the most monstrous thing in the world. She could not imagine ever having something like that inside her. It just wouldn't be possible for any woman to take. It would kill her.

Susan held the door knob tighter. Mr. Evans was rising from the chair. Oh, God was he coming to the door! She had no time to run in the darkness, and he would find her. Her mother would never forgive her if she knew she were spying this way, but she just had to find out what was going on. She breathed a guarded sigh of relief as she watched him walk toward the other side of the room which was out of her vision from the slight crack in the door. He was going toward the bed where the noises were still increasing in tempo and Susan pressed the door open a crack more to follow him across the room. As she pushed against the door, the bed came into view by tiny degrees, and the fear of what she was going to see restricted her chest as though it were wrapped in thick steel bands. Her whole body was shaking violently, but suddenly it stilled!

A cold chill ran crazily up the full length of her spine.

There on the bed was her mother locked in a lewd embrace of intercourse with Mr. Johnson, Richard's father!

Her fiancee's father and her own mother!

She felt the blood draining from her head, and fought to retain her balance and keep from falling backwards. She was certain that she was going to faint from the sudden shock of the unbelievable sight going on before her eyes. There on her own dead father's bed was another man, making violent love to her mother while at the same time, another man stood above them stroking his vile-looking penis above their thrashing bodies. He was eagerly urging Richard's father to hurry up and finish.