‘Now, you’re sisters, aren’t you?’ breathed Oxnard. ‘You should get on well together, in every possible way. You can start giving her a tongue job, sweetie, while I start doing what I want to do.’

Vee blinked up at him in fright.

‘You understand what I’m saying!’ shrieked Oxnard. ‘Do it, or I’ll have that niece of yours blown to pieces!’ Shaking uncontrollably, Vee raised her face.

Above her, Season whispered, ‘Do it, Vee. It’s not going to harm us. I love you, and I always will.’

‘That’s right,’ smiled Oxnard. ‘Sisterly love, incarnate. Or should I say carnal?

‘Come on. Let’s see some enthusiasm down there. Let’s see you get your mouth round it!’

Vee began to weep, silently, but as she wept she did what she was told, and thrust her tongue deeper between her sister’s thighs. Oxnard watched her appreciatively for a while, then he asked Season under his breath, ‘You know what I’m going to do? That’s right, you guessed it. I’m going to do it, and I’m going to need your help, so when I start to push you’d better start pushing back.’

Season nodded dumbly, her eyes still closed. All she was thinking was: do it, do it, for the love of everything in the whole world do it, and then let me alone.

‘Push!’ commanded Oxnard. One of the Angels whooped, and said, ‘That’s doing it, Oxnard! That’s really doing it!’

‘Push!’ Oxnard shouted, even louder.

Season pushed, but her muscles were too clenched, and she couldn’t admit him even a half-inch. He furiously grabbed a handful of her hair, and wrenched it so hard that she could hear the roots tearing.

‘Push,’ he told her. ‘And this time don’t fight me. Because if you fight me, I’m going to kill your little girl, and you, too, and everybody in die whole festering house! You think the cops are going to care? The whole of LA is littered with dead people! You think they’re going to care about one or two more?’

Season fought back the panic which was rising in her chest. ‘Okay,’ she said, in a barely audible whisper. ‘If that’s what you want.’

Gradually, gritting her teeth, she opened herself up to him. He grunted with effort as he worked his way up inside her. She could feel nothing but intense, wincing pain, as her mind said yes, you have to, but her body resisted.

For a few seconds, the three of them were twisted and locked together in a painful tableau of mutual hatred and physical stress.

‘Isn’t this it!’ panted Oxnard. ‘Isn’t this it! Don’t you dumb screwed-up canyon-dwelling broads do anything for kicks? Don’t you know that a woman with any class would rather die than do this? You cheap cunts!’