"I've had about enough of this, Conrad Streeter. Please be so good as to drive me home right this instant."
"Find your own way home, you stuck up frigid cunt," Conrad replied to a roar of approval from the drunken patrons watching them fight. Darla's face turned a bright pink. No one had ever spoken to her in that manner—ever. She retrieved her coat and purse from the cloakroom and marched out into the cool night air.
Darla Jean Carston was a very attractive young woman and she knew it. Her parents belonged to the country club and owned a house in one of the better neighborhoods in town. They voted the straight Republican ticket. Dwight Eisenhower was in the White House and all was right with the world as long as you didn't count those godless communists in the Soviet Union and Red China.
Darla's upbringing had been one of privilege. Although her parents weren't millionaires they could afford to provide Darla and her younger brother with every advantage. She could therefore be choosy about who she dated and if anyone had any funny ideas about taking liberties with her, they were soon set straight and behaved themselves or she was through with them.
Darla had thought Conrad Streeter III was a safe bet. He was older than the 18-year-old beauty, about to graduate from college and on his way to law school. His parents also belonged to the country club and his father was a prominent attorney. Darla's father was a client. Darla's mother thought Conrad was a good marriage prospect and Darla thought so too.
After a pleasant dinner at a nice restaurant, Conrad took her dancing. But it wasn't dancing at the country club, but some awful roadside nightclub somewhere outside of town. It was loud and smoke-filled. No one seemed to care if Darla was underage. Still, Darla made do with a Coke on ice. Things rapidly deteriorated after Conrad had a couple of drinks. He started getting fresh and trying to put his hands where they didn't belong. Darla slapped his face for his trouble and now she was looking for the pay phone so she could call for a cab.
Damn! The pay telephone was out of order. She would have gone back inside and ask to use their telephone but Darla had expressed her opinion of the nightclub to the manager and didn't want to face him again. By now, Darla had expected Conrad to follow her and apologize for his outrageous behavior and drive her home but he wasn't to be seen. Strange men were leering at her now and the attractive woman was beginning to feel a little apprehensive but she'd rather die than go back inside and talk to that awful Conrad Streeter in front of that drunken crowd. Darla Jean Carston would get her revenge on him if it was the last thing she ever did.
"Brenda? Brenda Smith!" Darla called to the girl she just noticed walking out of the club. At last, someone to come to her aid. Brenda was in Darla's high school graduation class. They weren't friends. Brenda lived on the wrong side of the tracks and didn't run in Darla's crowd; not that she could even if she wanted to. But that didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was that Darla had found someone to give her a ride home.
"Hi, Darla," Brenda replied. "What are you doing here?"
"Could you give me a ride home?" Darla pointedly ignored Brenda's question. She didn't want to go through a drawn out explanation and it was none of Brenda's business anyway.
"I don't see why not but I'm here with my date. I'll have to ask him." She had continued walking until she stopped next to a brand new Cadillac Fleetwood. They had to list for more than five thousand dollars. Darla wondered how Brenda knew anyone who could afford this car. The attractive woman hoped she still looked presentable. If the guy was rich and handsome, Darla could probably steal the guy away from Brenda. Brenda was pretty but she definitely not in the same league with Darla. She wondered if he was someone she knew from the country club. Darla saw a man approaching and began to preen.
"Who's your friend, Brenda?" said the man. The man looked prosperous but he was a lot older now that Darla could see him better. He looked almost as old as her father.
"Meet Darla Carston. We know each other from high school. Darla, this is my friend, Sam Rosen." Darla held her smile as she briefly touched her hand to his when Sam offered it but she was already dismissing Mr. Rosen from her mind. No wonder he wasn't a member of the country club. From his name, Darla surmised Sam Rosen was Jewish and a Jew could never be admitted as a member no matter how much money he had.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Darla," said Sam.
"I guess Darla lost her ride. She needs a lift home."
"We'd be happy to give you a lift home but the evening is still young, Darla. Why don't you join us?"
"I'd love to, Mr. Rosen, but I'm still rather upset from a misunderstanding I had with my date. I'd prefer to go home immediately if you don't mind."
Sam Rosen shrugged his shoulders and opened the passenger side door. "Climb in, ladies."
"I can sit in the back," said Darla.
"Sam doesn't like it when people ride in the back of his big black monster. He says it makes him feel like a chauffeur. Of course, if you'd rather not sit between us, you can always look for another ride." Darla nodded and reluctantly scooted into the middle. She was fated to sit between Brenda and Sam but it was a relatively short ride home. What could happen?
"Would you like a drink?" The trio had just turned onto the highway when Sam was holding a bottle that he pulled out of his pocket.
"No... no thank you," said Darla. The young woman was appalled that Mr. Rosen would drink while driving. She hoped they didn't get into an accident.
"No thanks, honey," said Brenda. "You know how I like to be sober when we do things together." Darla briefly wondered what the two did together then decided she didn't want to know. Maybe it had been a mistake to accept a ride from Mr. Rosen. She was relieved when Mr. Rosen returned the bottle to his jacket pocket without taking a drink but almost immediately she felt his hand on her thigh. She tried to push the man's hand away but he wouldn't take the hint.
"Please remove your hand from my leg, Mr. Rosen. I dislike being pawed." Darla wished she knew where they were but it was pitch black out on this moonless night and there were no street lights this far out of town. She would have liked to have ordered the car stopped so she could walk the rest of the way but she was dreadfully afraid of being alone in the dark.
"Yes, Your Highness," said Sam and replaced his right hand on the steering wheel. Brenda didn't seem to care if her date was making a pass at another girl.
"Say," said Brenda, "you were part of that couple fighting in the club tonight. What did that guy call you?" Darla felt her ears burning.
"I don't remember," the young woman replied. "Where are we?" Darla suddenly realized that Sam had turned onto a dirt road. She didn't remember any dirt road on the way to the nightclub.
"It's a shortcut," said Sam. "We're almost there."
"You're supposed to take me home," Darla protested when they pulled up in front of a shack in the middle of a grove of trees. Brenda was already out of the car and entering the building. Apparently there was electricity because lights now lit up the inside.
"I said we'd take you home," Sam replied. "I didn't say we'd let you ruin our evening. We'll be here for a while and then we'll take you home."
"I want to go home now. Please, Mr. Rosen, I'll pay you if you take me home right now." Sam turned to face Darla and placed his left hand on her thigh.
"How will you pay me, Darla?"
"With money, of course." Sam's hand felt hot on Darla's thigh and she was experiencing a funny feeling deep in her belly. Conrad's errant hand had earned him a slap but she didn't dare slap Sam Rosen. He looked dangerous to Darla now that they were alone.
"Do I look like I need your money, Darla?" Sam's hand moved under the teenager's dress and caressed her stocking covered thigh almost where her bare flesh began.
"I'll walk home," the attractive woman blurted and got out of the car.
"Suit yourself," Sam replied and walked to the shack door. "Don't let the coyotes get you." Coyotes? It was pitch black out with the exception of the patch of light from the shack window. Darla didn't have a clue about which direction to take and she was afraid of the dark. She heard an animal sound and came to a decision. It wasn't a coyote but the young lady would wait in the car. Damn! The car doors were locked.
Sam and Brenda didn't seem to notice Darla when she slipped into the shack. It was furnished with an old bed and a table with two chairs. Darla chose to stand. The mismatched couple was dancing to music being played on a phonograph. It was music from that new artist, Elvis Presley. Darla's parents detested Elvis but Darla secretly liked Presley's music and had purchased his album. She kept the album hidden well away from her mother's prying eyes and listened to it on the sly. The young lady couldn't pretend to enjoy the music at the moment. All she wanted to do was get home.
"I thought you were going to walk home," said Sam. "Do you want a drink?"
"No, thank you. I'll just wait around until you two are through."
"Oh, are you the type that likes to watch?" That comment brought a giggle from Brenda and Darla began to blush when she realized the implications of Sam's question. What did they intend to do?
"I'd like a Coke if you have it."
"I'll pour it," said Brenda. She took a bottle out of an ice chest and scooped up some ice in a glass. "Cheers!" Her former classmate handed her the glass and all three drank. Darla didn't realize how thirsty she was and drank her Coke rather quickly.
"Are you feeling more relaxed?" said Sam.
"A little," said Darla. In fact, the young lady was feeling very relaxed. She suddenly realized her Coke must have been tampered with. "What have you done to me?" She wanted to run but couldn't summon the energy to do so and found herself being led to the bed.
"It's just a little something to help you relax and maybe be a little more willing to play."
"You can't do this. I'll call the police and have both of you put in jail."
"We'll take our chances. Get her ready, sweetie." Darla felt hands behind her and her clothing was being loosened.
"Please don't do this, Brenda," Darla begged. "We're supposed to be friends." She was beginning to cry.
"We were never friends, Darla," said Brenda. "You know that. We knew each other's names and that was about it. I wanted to be accepted by your crowd but I didn't have the right connections."
"I'm sorry if I was unkind to you but what happened in the past doesn't make this right." Darla tried to struggle but the drug she'd ingested made her feel so weak she was completely helpless as Brenda undressed her. The drug apparently didn't affect her awareness. Her nipples felt so sensitive and that funny feeling down in the pit of her belly was back again.
"You were never unkind. You snubbed me but I've done plenty of snubbing of my own. I'm doing this because Sam wants you and by the time this is over, you'll want Sam. I guarantee it."
"That's impossible. Oh! Stop it! What are you doing to me?" Darla had never felt this aroused before, even when she used her finger on her sensitive spot late at night in bed.
"Part of it is the drug," Brenda explained, "but I like to think I'm doing my part." She began to caress her captive's exposed breasts. "I'm jealous. I think your titties are bigger than mine." The young woman giggled. "Did you know I swing both ways?" Darla uttered a muffled protest as her lips were covered by Brenda's. What's happening to me? Darla thought. She was responding to Brenda's kiss by returning her own kiss. She wasn't even struggling against the girl's hand which was insinuating itself between Darla's legs. "Sam's going to fuck you now, Darla. He's going to fuck you and make you his bitch just like I am. You're going to love it just like I do."
"No! Please don't let him touch me," Darla begged. She gasped when she saw Sam loom up in front of her. He was naked. His sex was erect... and it looked huge to the frightened girl. The young woman was down to her garter belt and stockings. Brenda moved out of the way and Sam settled his bulk between Darla's legs even as she tried to keep her knees together. This couldn't be happening to her. She was Darla Jean Carston, a child of privilege. But she was going to be raped.
"Is Sam your first lover, Darla?" Lover? Darla didn't answer but nodded her head. "He was my first lover too," whispered Brenda in her ear. "It's going to hurt at first but Sam knows what he's doing. Just don't fight it. Let him fuck you... fuck you... fuck you."
"No!" Darla screamed. She felt the pressure of Sam's prick nudging its way into her vagina and then a stinging sensation as her hymen was ripped away. Sam was kissing his young victim in a way that she'd never been kissed before. Darla tried to push her assailant away but her efforts lacked conviction. She was being overwhelmed with all kinds of strange new feelings. The pain in her belly was going away and Sam's in and out motion was arousing the young woman once more. He was possessing her, making her his own... his own bitch. On and on they fucked.
"Tell Sam you're his bitch now," Brenda urged. "Tell him you're his bitch and he'll give you your biggest cum ever." Darla shook her head. She didn't want to be Sam's bitch but her feeling weren't her own. Her body was rebelling and the mind decided to go along with it. Darla heard her own voice but it seemed outside of her, like it wasn't coming directly from her.
"I... I... I'm... your... bitch!" Darla felt Sam's prick swell and spurt sperm inside her. At the same time the young woman felt a glorious... a sensuous heat spread through her belly. She embraced her lover and held him to her body as both recovered from their exertions. After a while Sam got up and dressed. He went outside to smoke a cigarette and wait for the girls. The effects of the drug were wearing off and Darla could now stand and walk.
"As soon as I get home I'm going to call the police and have both of you arrested and put in jail. You and he are going to prison for the rest of your lives, I hope."
"I wouldn't bother about going to the police," said Brenda. "It would just be a waste of time and you'd just wind up hurting yourself."
"That bastard raped me and you helped him," Darla protested. "I promise you're both going to prison."
"Well, if you calm down and listen," replied Brenda, "I'll explain what will happen if you file a complaint."
"It's really very simple. If you file a complaint, the police will investigate. They'll find out about the commotion you and your friend caused inside the nightclub. Then they'll find out that you got into Sam's car voluntarily from witnesses in the parking lot. I was with you and Sam the entire time so naturally I'll swear that anything that happened between you and Sam was of your own free will."
"But that's a lie."
"Maybe and maybe not," said Brenda. "You'd have to prove it and it's our word against yours."
"The police will believe me."
"Even if they did, the jury would have to believe you too and Sam's lawyer would make you out to be the biggest slut in the state. Do you think a small time prosecutor could go against Sam's high priced lawyer? And, by the way, do you have any idea what this would do to your reputation? People can be very unkind when it comes to the girl's part in anything like this. You know that. They'll say you put yourself in this situation. You wouldn't be able to show your face in public and you'd lose all your friends."
Brenda is right Darla thought with a shudder. She felt defeated. "I'd like to go home now if you two are through with me." The young woman finished dressing and left the shack where she had been raped. This time she was allowed into the back seat but was surprised when Brenda got in with her and took her hand. "What now?" she cried.
"You and Sam had all the fun and I want some too." She placed her hand on Darla's thigh and started caressing it.
"Then get in the front seat with your boyfriend."
"Sam's not going to get this car moving until I say so and I'm not going to say so until I've had some fun... with you." Brenda leaned over and kissed Darla's unresponsive lips. "We can be here all night if that's want you want." Darla suppressed a shudder and kissed Brenda back and returned her tormentor's caresses with her own. Kissing and caressing Brenda wasn't really that bad thought Darla. "Forward, James," Brenda finally said as the two young women held each other in their arms.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Darla," said Sam after they pulled up in front of her residence. "I hope to see you again." Darla ignored him and allowed Brenda to hold the door open for her. Darla got out of the car and trudged up her family's driveway without saying a word or looking back. Luckily, her parents were still at another event and her brother was already asleep. She held onto her dignity until she retired. She cried until an exhausted sleep overtook her.
Darla wasn't unaware of the possibility of being pregnant. She wasn't wearing protection and her rapist certainly wasn't. Abortions were illegal everywhere. Darla had heard the stories of back alley abortions where wire coat hangers were used as surgical instruments and the girl invariably died from blood loss or infection. That wasn't a risk Darla wanted to take. The young woman would just have to hope and pray that she wasn't pregnant.
Darla hadn't heard from or about Conrad Streeter III. She certainly hadn't seen him and she hoped she never would. This never would have happened if Conrad would have behaved himself. Her mother asked Darla about the evening but she just made some vague generalizations about it "being nice" and left it at that. She moped about the house for a couple of days and declined social invitations.
On the following Saturday, Darla took to driving around town in the little Nash she'd received as a graduation gift from her parents. She wondered why she was doing it and what she was looking for. Well, she knew what she was looking for: it was a big black Cadillac with Sam Rosen behind the wheel. He wasn't listed in the telephone directory. But what would the young woman say or do if and when she found him? After an hour of aimless driving, Darla spotted Brenda Smith walking in the opposite direction on the sidewalk and pulled over.
Brenda spotted Darla right away. She smiled and got into the car without an invitation. "Drive into the alley and park. We won't be bothered there." Darla wanted to object to Brenda's peremptory order but she realized she needed the girl's cooperation if she wanted to find Sam. She drove into the alley and parked. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Brenda wore a smug smile. She was enjoying herself but Darla certainly wasn't. She didn't want to be the first one to speak but the silence was making her nervous. Finally, Brenda said, "Have you missed me?"
"Certainly not," Darla replied.
"Then it must be Sam you miss," said Brenda. "I should be offended. I thought we really hit it off together in the back seat." She began to caress Darla's thigh.
"I... I'm not that way," said Darla but did nothing to stop Brenda's caresses.
"Sam's the best, isn't he?" Was he? Darla certainly wondered about that. She didn't have a lot of experience to go on. Sam had been her first and only fuck. The young woman blushed as that word crossed her mind. Despite the shame she felt from her defilement, Darla had tried to recreate in her masturbation sessions the same feeling she experienced when Sam had his prick inside her. Nothing worked. Her self induced orgasms were no longer satisfactory. She needed a prick inside her, but would any guy's prick do or just Sam's? The girl wasn't about to start seducing men so she could make comparisons.
"I'd like to speak to Mr. Rosen."
"I bet you do."
"Can you set it up?"
"I don't think Sam would be much interested in just talking. As long as you realize that, you can join us. He's supposed to pick me up in a couple of hours."
"I'd like to speak to him alone."
"There's a price to pay if you want Sam to yourself."
"I have money."
"I'm not talking about money. I want you to be my bitch for as long you're Sam's bitch."
"Please, Brenda, I keep telling you I'm not that way. I'm not a... Lesbian. I don't have those feelings."
"I could care less about your feelings, Darla. Do you think Sam cares about your feelings? You think you just want to speak to him but if you see Sam tonight, it's because you want to be his bitch. He'll fuck you good just like last time. He'll fuck you in your mouth and he might even fuck you in your pretty little bottom hole. He'll laugh if you try to tell him you're not that way. He won't fall in love with you. He'll use you just like he uses me and you'll have to be happy with the little time he spends with you. If you think it might go any differently you're just wasting everyone's time and we'll forget we talked to each other. I'm not about to lose any of my precious time with Sam without something in return. What'll it be?"
Darla was too shocked to speak. Did men really use women in that way; in their mouths and bottoms? The sensible thing would have been to thank Brenda for her time and drive off. "I still need to talk to Mr. Rosen," the young woman finally said.
"You know my conditions."
"Then let's seal the deal with a kiss." Darla waited for Brenda to embrace her but then she realized the girl wanted her to initiate the kiss. She kissed Brenda just like the girl wanted to be kissed; a technique learned in the backseat of Sam's big black monster. She hoped they weren't being observed. Brenda said, "I'll have to call him with the change in plans. I don't think he'll mind. Be at the Richfield filling station on the south end of town at five o'clock. Sam won't wait for you if you're late. Wear a pretty dress."
"I understand." Brenda got out of the car.
"I've got some acid that will scar your face for life if you're planning on something that'll hurt Sam in any way." She closed the car door and Darla watched Brenda walk down the alley until she disappeared around the corner of a building on the main street.
Darla drove home, showered and changed her clothes. There wasn't enough time to get her hair done. She told her mother she was going out with some girlfriends. That happened often enough not to arouse the older woman's curiosity. Now she was standing near the driveway of the Richfield filling station waiting for the man who had raped her. Darla knew she was being foolish but wasn't going to back out. She wanted to... no; she needed to see Mr. Rosen... Sam. A thrill of fear and excitement coursed through her body when the lovely woman saw the big black Cadillac loom into view and then stop beside her. Sam Rosen got out and opened the passenger door for her. "You're looking lovely, Darla."
"Thank you, Sam."
"Are you hungry? I know of a nice restaurant." Darla declined Sam's invitation to dine and they drove directly to a motel some distance outside of town. It had individual cabins and Sam drove to one in the back. It wasn't much larger than the shack Darla had last been in but it was cleaner, better finished and had a bathroom. "Coke and ice, right?" Sam smiled when the girl hesitated. "It won't be drugged this time. Would you like some whiskey in it?"
"I'll try it with a bit of whiskey, please." Darla had tried wine in the past but this would be her first taste of hard liquor. The man handed Darla her glass and poured himself a straight shot. He sat down in an overstuffed chair and patted his knee. Darla realized Sam wanted her to sit on his lap. She hadn't sat on a lap since she was a child.
The young woman took a swallow of her drink and obeyed him. He put one arm around her waist and immediately used his free hand to explore under Darla's dress to the edge of her panties. A look of surprise and fear briefly crossed Darla's face and then she calmed down. Hadn't she been warned that something like this would happen? There was no beating around the bush with Sam Rosen. He was showing her who the boss was.
"I'm a little surprised Brenda allowed you to meet me without her coming along. What's the deal?"
Darla blushed and said, "I agreed to be... her bitch as long as I'm your bitch."
"You're liable to be Brenda's bitch for a long time, Darla."
"I'm your bitch for as long as you want me, Sam," Darla told the man who had raped her. No, that wasn't true; rather, he had conquered her. She wanted to be taken then and Sam didn't disappoint her. He dragged her panties off and pushed her onto the bed. His prick penetrated her loins without ceremony. "Fuck me, Sam," Darla cried. "Fuck me and make me yours forever." She came with her older lover as he squirted his virile sperm into her fertile womb. The young woman realized she was once again risking pregnancy but at the moment she didn't care.
Sam used Darla's mouth to become hard again and then fucked the girl from behind as she crouched on her hands and knees on the carpeted floor. Darla was dreadfully afraid Sam was going use her bottom hole next but he never mentioned it to her and Darla didn't want to bring up the subject. They rested in each other's arms on the bed until there was a knock on the door. Darla was startled and afraid. Who could it be? Sam pointed to the bathroom and Darla scurried in and closed and locked the door. She heard Sam open the cabin door and say, "Vern?"
"I thought that was your car, Sam," said the man. "I assume you're here for the same reason I am. Why don't you bring your girlfriend over to my cabin and we'll have a party?"
"I'd love to Vern but I'm just now breaking this girl in and she's still a little shy. So, thanks but no thanks for the invitation. We're going to have to pass."
"Is she good?"
"She's new at it but she has a lot of potential. Maybe you'll meet her some other time."
"I'll look forward to it. I'll call you next week and we'll have lunch. Say hello to Leah for me."
"I'd like that fine, Vern, and hello to Gladys." The man was gone and Sam said, "It's safe to come out now." The bathroom door crept open and Darla nearly fainted in Sam's arms. "That was close," he said.
"That was... my father," the still frightened girl murmured.
"I know," said Sam. "I've done business with your father for years. I knew who you were from the moment I met you. Your portrait occupies a prominent place in his office and I've been there many times."
"Then why did you--"
"Because you're the sexiest bitch I've met in a long time and I wanted you. This has nothing to do with your father. I didn't know your father was going to be here and I didn't plan any of this. Do you believe me?"
Darla nodded her head. "Dad's cheating on Mom." Her father had lost his image of perfection in Darla's eyes but she supposed she was now less than the perfect daughter.
"That's right. What are you going to do about it?"
"What can I do about it without hurting someone?"
"The answer is nothing so it's best to keep the knowledge to yourself."
"I know that," said Darla. "I wonder what he'd say if he realized I was the one you two were talking about just now."
"He probably would have had a heart attack."
"Yes, and with a son and daughter about the same ages as you and your brother. Does that change how you feel about me?"
"Not at all," Darla replied. "It's just I would never have dreamed I'd be the other woman in any relationship. I guess that makes me a slut." Sam didn't say anything and just held the young woman in his arms. He fucked Darla on the bed again a while later before returning her to her car.
"I think I'm pregnant," said Darla. She was resting naked in Brenda's arms after a long session of lovemaking with her fellow high school alumnus who was also naked.
"Congratulations! Sam's a fast worker," Brenda replied. "I'm pregnant too."
"I wish I could be as calm about this as you seem to be. Aren't you scared? I don't how I'm going to tell my family. What am I going to do?"
"Why don't you do what I did? As soon as I found out I was knocked up, I slept with an old boyfriend who always had the hots for me. I told him the baby was his and now he's going to marry me. It'll be over at the courthouse next week." Brenda displayed a cheap little engagement ring that Darla hadn't noticed before. "The best thing about it is that he's getting drafted by Uncle Sam. They're shipping him off to boot camp a week after we're married so Sam can still see me anytime he wants."
"I've never been that close to anyone," said Darla, "except Sam. I wish you the best though."
"If I come up with any ideas I'll let you know." Brenda kissed her lover and caressed her belly. "I'm excited for you, Darla."
"Thank you, darling." After Darla left her friend, she walked to the park to sit on a park bench and ponder her future as an unwed mother.
"Hello, Darla," said the young man standing in front of her.
"Hello, Conrad," said Darla.
"I've been trying to work up the courage to talk to you... since that evening and I happened to see you sitting alone."
"What did you want to talk to me about, Conrad?"
"I want to apologize for my atrocious behavior and the hateful words I used. I know I don't deserve any forgiveness from you and I regret everything that occurred that evening."
"The words you used were perfectly appropriate, Conrad. I should be the one apologizing to you."
"I realized what a perfect bitch I've been toward you and practically everyone I know. I've been the hateful one. I just regret the realization didn't come a lot sooner. We might have gotten along better."
"Well, uh, maybe it's not too late to start from square one again. May I take you to dinner tonight? I promise not to take you to that nightclub again."
"I don't think they'll ever want to welcome us back to that place. I'll be ready about seven o'clock if that's okay with you."
"Seven o'clock would be fine, Darla." It was easy to seduce Conrad Streeter III. He wasn't much more experienced than Darla. When Darla told Conrad she was pregnant he did the honorable thing and proposed to her right away. Conrad and Darla were married in front of a county judge. It wasn't near the fabulous church wedding that Darla had always dreamed about but it couldn't be helped.
Darla gave birth to a baby boy who was christened Conrad Streeter IV. His mother nicknamed him Sam. Darla presented Conrad with three more children over the years but they all were sired by Sam Rosen. The Streeter bloodline had ended although the Streeter name was carried on through Sam Rosen's bastards. Darla, in a way, had her revenge.