It is with great pride that we present veteran journalist Mark Tocman's latest novel, The Playful Doctor and we want to issue a warning to the reader who is discovering this best-selling author's work for the first time:
Do not take this book lightly!
Mr. Tocman, as his legions of fans well know, writes something more than a hard-hitting adventure-packed story. In each and every one of his popular books, there is a message which is of vital importance to all of us in modern-day America. As an ex-journalist, the experienced author is well aware of the various ills that beset our country in these troubled times ... and he is not afraid to bare the most disturbing facts in the quest for truth and justice!
It is hard for some of us to accept the unfortunate fact that some of the most educated professional men in our society are nothing better than scandalous crooks and even mentally disturbed personalities. Medical men, in particular, are regarded by the uninformed public as being above corruption and perversion. Yet, as Mr. Tocman vividly uncovers in The Playful Doctor we must accept the fact that even the men to whom we entrust our invaluable mental and physical health are prone to that insidious malaise which pervades so many sectors of our society: greed and power lust.
The truth is stranger than fiction, as no one knows better than Mr. Tocman. This book, like all his others, is based on a real event, a real health spa scandal. And scandals like this one are far too frequent to take lightly.
We cannot in good faith recommend this brutally realistic novel to the emotionally immature reader, but we heartily urge all community-minded citizens to read it, not for its entertainment value alone, but for its timely message.
The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
"Well, that's it for the news, folks! Now stay tuned to Channel Five, 'cause pretty Maggie McGuire's gonna be with you in a minute with TV-land's most accurate weather forecast."
Blinking distractedly, Mrs. Eugenia Maye raised her blue-gray head from the glossy book in which she'd been engrossed and gazed toward the television screen. The color was adjusted incorrectly again, she noted with irritation, pursing her lips at the odd magenta tones of the slack-jowled commentator's smiling face. That half-witted cleaning woman! Couldn't she even manage to do a simple thing like the dusting without disrupting the entire household? Why, just last week the incompetent servant had actually tossed her treasured, though dog-eared, copies of MAN, MYTH and MAGIC magazine into the trash-bin! For $1.75 an hour you'd think the least -
"But first it's time to remind all you Moms and Dads out there in the greater Chicago area that it's curfew hour for the under-eighteen set. Where is your child tonight?"
"Where, indeed?" Mrs. Maye muttered, a dark shadow clouding her plump face as irritation against her maid was replaced by thoughts of her errant only child.
In her absorption with the fascinating new book she'd picked up in Brentano's that afternoon, the forty-six year old mother had quite forgotten why she was sitting in the living room instead of being comfortably ensconced in her bed. April, her sixteen year old daughter, had promised to return home immediately after her library date, and the suspicious mother meant to make sure that the teenager kept her word. Now, glancing at her wrist watch, she noted that it was five minutes after ten - and the suburban library shut at nine-thirty!
" ... intermittent showers and overcast skies. So don't plan a picnic, folks, and drive carefully this Memorial Day weekend, 'cause those roads are going to be slippery. Now for the long-term forecast, but first a word from our sponsor, Jolly Kola, the NEW thirst-quencher for those who think FUN!"
"Ridiculous!"
Lifting her elephantine bulk from the couch with some difficulty, the disdainfully sniffing mother lumbered across the room to switch off the television. She had, as always, drawn a chart for tomorrow's stars, and knew that a prediction of inclement weather defied every known astrological law. Notwithstanding the undeniable fact that it was pouring outside her window tonight, it would be clear and sunny tomorrow. The stars never lied!
"And that's one of the best things about this wonderful book of Dr. Stanislas Ivanoff!" The heavy figure sank back down on the couch, her low voice echoing eerily through the high-ceiling room of the old-fashioned Evanston dwelling. "He's a believer in the stars. And even if I don't quite grasp all of what he's trying to say, it sounds like the real TRUTH at last."
In the ten years since her husband had left her, Eugenia Maye had engrossed herself in more and more bizarre TRUTHS. As a young woman, she'd been a believer in romanticism - hence her daughter's fanciful name April Maye. Later, she'd devoted herself to Dr. Spock, something she rather regretted these days; maybe if she'd been more concerned with the higher things in life when April was a baby, the girl wouldn't be so apathetic to everything that her mother was interested in.
After Dr. Spock came religious fanaticism, prayer healing, Scientology, palmistry, s�ances, a brief flirtation with eastern philosophies, astrology, telepathy, Christian Science and hypnosis. Interspersed with these multitudinous causes were minor obsessions with various diets, charities and doctors. By now, the literature on these subjects had overflowed the library and half-filled the spare bedroom.
Although she felt a little too tired to study the finer points of Dr. Ivanoff's philosophy, Mrs. Maye was pleased to find that the glossy volume was liberally sprinkled with photographs of the ultra-modern Serendipity Scientific Health Spa. The buildings, designed by a Danish architect, stood in the heart of the Allegheny mountains, among high green pines and deep grassy vales through which meandered sparkling rivers. In the snapshots, one could see joyously smiling men and women enjoying the beauties of nature, browsing through the stacks of the glass-walled library, or chatting with Dr. Ivanoff in his luxurious "examining room". Clear-eyed student assistants, ever so much more clean-cut than that unpleasant Murray Watson character whose class ring her innocent child wore on her finger, helped the patients utilize the unsurpassed sports facilities, including a Finnish sauna bath and man-made, Olympic-sized swimming hole hollowed out of a sunny meadow.
"This is what April should be doing this summer!" Mrs. Maye mused. "Teach her to respect the important things in life - and get her away from that Watson boy. I don't trust him one bit!"
Her fat fingers fumbled through the pages, seeking Dr. Ivanoff's words of wisdom on the subject of sexuality. There on page 99 - her lucky number! - just across from a full-page photograph of the good doctor himself, she found what she was looking for:
"Nothing makes me more sorrowful than to watch today's young people with their false sophistication and glib clich�s concerning the so-called 'sexual revolution'. What do these misguided youngsters understand of this abused yet nonetheless vitally important phrase? What do they know of the SPIRITUAL fulfillment of sexuality in the TRUE sense of the word? They are as ignorant as their inhibited parents, if not more so, for they seek salvation along the wrong paths. Our next project, which we hope to raise money for in the next year with the kind financial assistance from faithful -BELIEVERS, will be a young people's camp run along essentially the same successful lines as our SERENDIPITY SCIENTIFIC HEALTH SPA. Tomorrow's SALVATION lies in the hands of our own children, and it is our DUTY to show them the way to TRUTH."
Mrs. Maye beamed with satisfaction, her rotund face flushing with pleasure at finding her own opinions confirmed by this internationally famous authority. Dr. Ivanoff was certainly the prophet she'd been seeking all these years, no doubt about it!
Admittedly, she'd been misled into feeling this emotion before, but this time she knew it was the genuine answer. Why, just one look at the handsome scientist in the photograph stilled any vague doubts she could possibly have; he clenched a briar pipe in his teeth which made his quizzically intellectual smile twist slightly, and he sported an elegant moustache which curled up at the ends and bespoke his Eastern-European origins. British country tweeds ... two frolicking Irish setters ... he was as proper as an advertisement for expensive Scotch, yet with a hint of deeper intuition in his dark eyes ...
"If only I could force myself to travel," muttered Eugenia, "I'd go down and take the cure myself. But I've never forgotten the warning I received from Daddy's spirit at Madame Gitane's last s�ance - the one before the neighbors got up a petition to run her out of town. He told me I'd die in a moving vehicle, and Daddy always knew best. I wouldn't dare upset his wandering spirit by defying his advice ..."
Voice trailing off, pudgy hands knotting in anguish at the mere thought of the disasters which lay in store for her if she would be so rash as to set foot on an airplane or train, the superstitious divorcee stared out into the darkness. Raindrops were splattering against the big bay window of the living room, and a brisk wind was ripping the blossoms from the lilac bushes and Japanese cherry trees in the front yard and sending them spinning down to blanket the lawn. A springtime blizzard ... or a visitation by ghoulish apparitions.
Much as the mother longed to seek the safety and comfort of her bed, she refused to do so until her only daughter was safe inside the house. Really, it was most inconsiderate of April to keep her worried mother waiting up for her; what the girl needed was the spiritual guidance which Dr. Stanislas Ivanoff could provide. The girl was growing more self-centered by the day, seemingly unaware of anything except her boyfriend, her wardrobe and hairdo and her endless telephone conversations about who was taking who to the junior-senior prom ... with never so much as a passing thought to the spiritual development of her soul.
Mrs. Eugenia Maye's lips pinched together in determined resolution, causing her well-fleshed cheeks to crease into a rather alarming Tartarian mask. April should go to Serendipity Scientific Health Spa in her stead, spend her summer vacation there working as an assistant to the wise doctor. Like a whale crashing over a wave, the mother's obese figure lunged leftward to the side of the blue upholstered couch and extracted a sheet of writing paper, envelope and pen from the drawer of the end table.
"Dear Dr. Ivanoff," she began, "As one of your devoted followers, I am writing to you on behalf of my adolescent daughter ..."
Just as the smugly smiling mother was sealing the envelope and basking in the feel of a deed well done, her ever-alert eye caught sight of a car dimming its headlights halfway down the block. Certain that it must be Murray Watson's souped-up Mustang bearing her only child home, the indignant mother hastily flicked off the lamp switch and inched her unwieldy bulk toward the window. From this advantageous vantage point behind the genuine Belgian lace curtains, she could see everything that her rebellious daughter was doing.
If only it hadn't been for this annoying rain, which streaked down in layers as thick as unlaundered grayish sheets, the spying mother could have seen exactly what was transpiring inside the fog-clouded Mustang. As it was, however, she saw enough shadowy gropings to form a vivid mental image of what was happening.
"Off she goes to Dr. Ivanoff - the sooner the better," the distressed parent muttered, her every roll of fat shaking with indignation as she surreptitiously peered out through the curtains. "I hate to have to admit that my darling daughter's gone beyond my control, but there she is necking with some awful male in a car like a cheap hussy. Thank God I found out about Dr. Ivanoff and his health clinic in time! He'll save her from moral ruin!"
Rain drummed harder than ever against the windows, and all that the peering mother could ascertain with any degree of certainty was that the windows of the car parked in front of the neighbor's drive had clouded over. Mrs. Maye's mind reeled as her imagination supplied the unseen details in a series of unexpectedly salacious images.
Once, long ago, I was young and slim and pretty, and Eli's lips were warm against my mouth, and his hands were gentle against my breasts. I had the prettiest legs in town, he said, and my thighs were trembling so much that I had to sit down on the grass, and then his hand was pressing against my skirt, and ...
Here the unwanted memory ended, for at that point she had slapped Eli and told him to mind his manners.
"How dare April behave like that?!" she muttered, but what she really meant was, how dare she herself indulge in such lustful recollections about the husband who had left her.
For the briefest instant, the forty-six year old suburban matron's eyes left the parked car to run down over the corpulent bulges of her once curvaceous figure, and one hand unconsciously trailed over the wrinkled surface of her once-smooth face. Then, forcing back the unwanted emotions that surfaced from her unconscious, she jerked her hand away.
The hand stopped in midair as yet another unwelcome sentiment assaulted Eugenia Maye. These weren't her hands! Hers were slim and white, with skin so smooth and transparent that you could see a tracery of pale blue veins with lithe fingers and shapely nails and beautiful rings. But indeed, these pudgy old woman hands must belong to her, for the same three rings adorned them: the fourteen carat diamond engagement ring, the white-gold wedding band, and the inestimably valuable emerald Daddy had given her on her twenty-first birthday. Now, they were so tight on her thick fingers that she couldn't remove them - they'd have to be cut off when she died ...
With an effort, the woman forced her eyes to go back to the parked car outside the window and translated her repressed emotions into furious wrath against her sinful daughter. Why, the automobile was actually swaying back and forth - it was disgusting!
"Thank God for Dr. Stanislas Ivanoff!" she muttered again.
Deciding that her heart felt entirely too weak to risk an encounter with her disobedient daughter tonight, she made her way to her bedroom with the book clutched under her arm. No need to endanger her own health by arguing with April - she'd just wait and let the wise doctor teach the girl a few well-needed lessons about morality and sexuality.
CHAPTER TWO
Had April Maye known that her elderly mother was peering through the curtains, she'd never have allowed Murray Watson to talk her into staying in the car "just five minutes more, for a talk". The thing she detested more than all others was a lecture from her parent, whom she secretly suspected of senility, if not insanity. At all costs, she avoided annoying the woman, smiling vaguely and nodding at her ceaseless flow of conversation and staying away from home as much as possible.
Tonight, the house was dark and she presumed that Mother was already asleep. "Okay, Murray," she said, her voice trembling in anticipation of his kiss. "Just five minutes ..."
He turned toward her, his face breaking into a broad grin and his brow clearing of the sulky frown he'd assumed in anticipation of her usual refusal. April sighed softly, thinking how handsome her steady boyfriend was with his wavy brown hair and athletically-muscled arms. Staring at those rippling, sun-bronzed muscles beneath his short-sleeved tee-shirt, she felt her sensually awakening body tingle with excitement.
In fact, Murray Watson was more wholesome-looking than handsome. He had regular, Anglo-Saxon features, a spattering of freckles over the bridge of his neither too large nor too misshapen nose, clear hazel eyes, and a body which was exactly average for an American male of his age, statistically speaking. There was absolutely nothing critical one could say about the basketball player's appearance; on the other hand, there was also nothing one could say that would enable him to be identified in a busy airport or train station.
If April Maye had been the sort of girl who was inclined toward introspection, she would have realized that what attracted her about Murray was his total normalcy. The sixteen year old revered all things which were inoffensively average, a character trait for which she could hardly be blamed considering her bizarre mother, and she carefully nurtured an image of herself as a well-adjusted teenager. "Well-rounded personality", was the way her guidance counselor at high school described her, by which he meant that she participated in extra-curricular activities, was clever but not morbidly studious, and would certainly be selected for the National Honor Society. She'd never be prom queen, or head of her class scholastically; but she'd never be a wallflower or earn a grade below a "B" either.
Now, as the dark-haired adolescent peered at her boyfriend out of the corner of her cerulean blue eyes, she decided that all was right with the world. Here she sat in Murray's 1968 Mustang - a car that was neither too shabby nor too ostentatious -dressed in a simple but expensive dress in this year's newest fashion color, pale pink. In a moment Murray would be kissing her and maybe even pressing his hand against her bodice, and she would whimper in a tone that would tell him she liked him, was excited by his caresses, but was not the sort of girl who did nasty things in parked cars. Never, of course, would she let him know how his touch set her whole body aflame, or how her panties were always drenched with her shameful liquid passion after their good-night kisses!
"Gee, Murray," she murmured, "it was sure great of you to show me how to do those chemistry problems. I'm just so stupid at science!"
This was a blatant lie, for April was quite quick in all intellectual exercises, but Seventeen magazine and all her girlfriends said that it made a guy feel more important when you acted as though you needed his masculine guidance. Her heartbeat quickened as he smiled his proud pleasure, and she gave an almost imperceptible little wriggle intended to inch her skirt hem upward to reveal several inches of cream-white naked thigh flesh.
"Science is always harder for chicks," the basketball star asserted. "You sure aren't stupid, April. And what's more important, you're the cutest girl in the junior class."
"Oh, Murray ..."
The seventeen year old's hand reached across his date's shoulders to draw her warm young body closer to his, and his eager virility jumped into instant erection as he sensed her snuggling against him.
"Really, I mean it," he whispered into the scented smoothness of her dark curls. "You're outtasight. I - wow, I'm not much good at talkin' like this, but - but, well, wow, I'll sure miss you next year when I'm at Amherst!"
April was so pleased she allowed her head to rest on Murray's broad shoulder and pressed her half-exposed thigh against his jean-covered upper leg. Usually, he wasn't one to pay compliments or to discuss their relationship seriously. Even that magical night when he'd French-kissed her for the first time and slipped his class ring on her finger, he'd not told her he loved her.
"I ... I can come for weekends, maybe," she breathed against his neck. "If Mother'll let me, that is. You know how she is ..."
There was no need to be more explicate, for everyone in town - much to April's shame - knew her mother's peculiarities. Mrs. Maye delighted in writing letters to the local paper, and in making impromptu speeches at the PTA meetings, and she declared her views with missionary zeal to every acquaintance she ran into at the supermarket.
"Let's not talk about next September," he leaned closer. "Let's pretend that it won't happen."
It would always be springtime ... lilac blossoms and raindrops would always be falling on their yearning young bodies ... Murray's arms would always be warm and protective around her ... his lips would be glued to hers forever and ever ...
April's lithe young body always came alive when her boyfriend's urgent tongue pressed deep into the welcoming cavern of her mouth, teasing at her orthodontically-impeccable teeth, jousting with her own tingling tongue. This evening, perhaps because of his romantic declaration of affection, she felt her loins respond with an electrifying urgency which was faintly alarming, yet deliciously titillating at the same time. In her innocence, she rather dizzily decided that the unprecedented passion coursing through her bloodstream meant that she was truly in love with Murray.
And if we're really in love, close to being engaged, isn't it all right to go just a little bit further? she rationalized as his hand gripped her left breast.
It was so difficult to draw the line between acting like a slut and behaving laughably prudish that April merely let her healthy young body make up its own mind. A tremulous sigh broke unbidden from her heart-shaped lips as her steady boyfriend's hot, slightly damp hands fumbled with the upper buttons on her pink shirtwaist dress, and even as she debated whether to pull away now or after a few more tantalizing moments, his fingers were reverently stroking the sheer lace of her white brassiere.
"Wow, April, you've got the prettiest tits I ever saw!" the youth groaned. She'd never let him get this far before, and he was beside himself with hope that she'd really let him explore her ripe young body tonight. "You feel so good I'm going crazy!"
No! He mustn't do that! April's conscience commanded as her date's hands suddenly disappeared inside her half-unfastened dress and reached around her slim back to unhook her brassiere. That's going too far! I have to stop him!
Yet, since she was still somewhat uncertain just whether or not such behavior was permissible for a nice, ail-American going-steady couple, and it did feel good, the sixteen year-old ignored the warnings signaling from the back of her brain. She was rather proud of her newly-budded breasts, which were perfectly rounded with bright pink little nipples on their proud, high-set tips. Some of the girls in her gym class had bigger ones, but none were better-shaped or more firmly-fleshed than hers, and it was nice to have Murray gasp in admiration as he ran his hands over the sensitive mounds.
Just last week, at Charlotte McKenzie's slumber party, the girls had discussed the question of "Making out". April had kept quiet; she'd found that it was best to remain silent until she knew exactly what sort of opinion was the currently acceptable one, and this was a major reason for her universal popularity.
"Anything above the waist is safe," Charlotte had informed them, tossing her blonde head authoritatively, and everyone had listened because there was a rumor circulating around the high school that Charlotte had actually gone all the way with a camp counselor last summer. "When they start going lower, it's time to say no. If you want to, that is."
After several more hours of clamorous conversation, a general consensus had arisen and April had been able to formulate an opinion. It was all right to take birth control pills - after all, someone just might rape you - but you should preserve your virginity until you TRULY fell in love.
Now, as Murray Watson's sweaty hands groped at her naked flesh, April reflected on that conversation. Much as she would have liked to imagine that she, was truly in love with the good-looking, intelligent basketball star, she was afraid it wasn't true. She heard no bells ringing inside her head, saw no stars floating before her eyes; all she felt was a perturbing excitation that flowed from her breasts to every nerve ending of her young body. That couldn't be love, because once, at a party of Charlotte's, she'd found herself kissing another guy in a dark closet during a game and had felt more or less the same way.
No, April decided, despite the pleasure she'd felt at hearing her steady boyfriend declare his affection, that couldn't be the reason she was feeling so strangely aroused tonight. It was nothing but shameful sexual stimulation, and she would have to be careful not to let herself act too eager and get a bad reputation.
"No, Murray," she whispered in a tremulous tone which lacked conviction. "We - we mustn't!"
"Jeez, I've been dreamin' about touching your tits for months, April," he replied, just as if he'd not even heard her faint protest. "They feel even better'n I thought they would!"
The young brunette started to repeat her warning, but just at that minute Murray's fingers pinched her nerve-filled nipples and she gasped in pleasure instead. Arrows of exquisite delight shot through her, causing her to tremble weakly against his chest, so overwhelming her that it was a moment before she noticed his left hand sneaking more of her buttons open.
"Ooohhhhhh! No-no ..."
His hand eased down to the flat plane of her taut little belly, tenderly smoothing the strip of naked flesh above her hip-hugging white lace panties. An even more indecent jolt of pleasure churned through the high school junior's slenderly-fashioned figure, so disorienting her that she didn't pull away as he drew her closer to his hard-loined body.
"Wow, April, what a super body you've got! Just outta this world!"
The hand inched lower, very slowly because the seventeen year-old athlete was expecting his girlfriend to start struggling against him at any second. To his surprise, he actually managed to slip his hand inside the elastic waistband of her wispy little panties before she gave any sign of resistance.
"Please, Murray! D-don't do that! That's dirty!"
"How can it be dirty," he retaliated in his most persuasive tone, "to learn about each other's bodies? If we really care about each other, we shouldn't have any secrets!"
Do we really care about each other? demanded April's conscience. And then, an even more disturbing thought rang in her brain: "When they start going lower, it's time to say no. If you want, that is ... "
"B-but Murray, I - I mean ..."
The confused brunette's voice died away into a low gasp as the boy's fingers dipped down to tangle in the sparsely curling strands of her pubic hair. To her alarm, she realized that she wanted him to touch the forbidden "vee" of female flesh up between her quivering legs ... wanted him to do the things that she furtively did to herself in bed at night ...
Oh, gosh! her mind spun wildly. We're really playing with fire! But I just can't make myself stop him, not yet! Anyhow, I know other kids do it - it can't be all that bad.
Murray, unlike his girlfriend, was already beyond the point of considering the morality of the situation. Although he would never have considered going steady with a fast girl, the sort who'd already surrendered her cherry and who spread her legs without a qualm, these five months with chaste April Maye had driven him to a fever pitch of excitation. His frustration increased by leaps and bounds after each date, and it was getting so he couldn't even look at her without getting an embarrassing bulge in his jeans. She never seemed to notice, but tonight at the library he'd seen the assistant librarian, a college girl from nearby Northwestern University, staring fixedly at his obvious hard-on.
"Oh, baby!" he groaned in a delirium of frustrated desire as he fingered the silken strands of her pussy curls. "Oh, sooo gggoooooodddd!"
April, aware of a note of animal hunger which she'd never heard before in her boyfriend's voice, suddenly stiffened. Things were really getting out of hand, and it was her job to put a stop right now to this indecent intimacy. If only she didn't feel so disturbingly excited herself, there would be no problem; was she perhaps unnaturally oversexed, a nymphomaniac?
The terrifying possibility of being an abnormal pervert gave the teenager the willpower she needed to break away from her steady boyfriend's ardent embrace. Drawing her quaking thighs tightly together to stem the unwanted tingling and hide her desire-dampened crotch-band, she firmly placed one small hand on his and tugged his fingers back up above her waist.
"No, Murray, no! You mustn't touch me there! It's not r-right! Really!"
An anguished moan broke from the boy's throat as his potent penis gave a painful lurch against the restraining denim of his trousers. Christ, she couldn't do this to him - he was so hot he was about to cream in his jeans!
"April, April baby," he gasped desperately, pulling her back down against him, worming his fingers back down over the satin smoothness of her belly. "What do right and wrong matter when we're in love?"
The pretty brunette tilted her face up to peer at him through the darkness, and her hands tightened spasmodically around his back. "D-do you really mean that?" she whispered. "Th-that we're in love, I mean?"
Oh Jeez, now I've put my big foot in my mouth! the boy's mind reeled in consternation. There was a moment's pregnant silence, broken only by the steady drumming of raindrops on the roof of the Mustang, as Murray's father's often-repeated warning rang in his ears.
"Tell a girl you love her, son, and you're halfway down the aisle to the altar. Don't say it till you mean it, and you'll save yourself one hell of a lot of hassles. And for God's sake, don't say it before you've finished your education!"
Murray Watson, Junior, certainly had no intention of endangering his future; he was going to be a successful trial lawyer, like his dad, and had years of college and graduate school ahead of him. Yet, as he listened to the quickened breathing of the alluring brunette beside him and felt her warm loins pressing pleadingly against his fire-filled body, he was tempted to risk telling a little white lie. After all, she was indeed the sort of soft-spoken, well-bred girl he expected to wed in about ten years ... and maybe Dad was out-of-date and hadn't considered the "sexual revolution" ...
"Sure, April," he blurted out, "sure, I love you."
Her faint sigh of delight made him feel a bit of a heel, but the blood hammering in his lust-inflated cock was the more urgent consideration. As she reached up her lips for a long, romantic kiss, he took the opportunity to slip his hand all the way inside her gossamer-sheer panties until he contacted the damp warmth of her pussy lips.
"B-but - but we're not engaged," April drew her mouth away to protest. Her voice was tight and shrill, for his prodding middle finger was sending her into a dizzy oblivion of ecstasy.
"We'll get pinned," Watson promised recklessly, "soon as I get to college and pledge a fraternity!"
Be careful! droned a sobering voice from the back of April's desire-clouded brain. Don't do something you'll he sorry for tomorrow!
Ignoring the ominous edicts of her conscience was easy, for other voices were clamoring for attention. Someone really cares about you, at last! This must be love!
By sheer luck, Murray's inexperienced finger chanced to graze the trembling adolescent's super-sensitive clitoral bud. To his surprise and delight, the tiny button stiffened and jerked beneath his fingertip, and April's body surged against him in helpless submission.
"Oh, I love you too, Murray," she whimpered, and at the moment she uttered the words she was convinced that they were true.
Delicious sensations of sheer bliss surged through her never-before-violated young body as the teasing finger continued its exploration of her forbidden vaginal slit. Inept as the boy's efforts were, his girlfriend was so aroused that his slightest touch triggered a shuddering, groaning reaction that almost frightened him in its intensity. Finally, after a short couple of minutes which seemed an eternity to the panting young couple, Murray's passionately pulsing penis gave such an urgent throb of pleasure-pain that he could not wait another instant for relief.
"Feel me too, honey," he gasped in a hoarse, unfamiliar voice. "Put your hand down here - on my pecker."
April was a good deal more sexually naive than her steady boyfriend, who devoured each month's issues of PLAYBOY and PENTHOUSE with avid curiosity. She knew even less of the facts of life than her girlfriends, since her mother had forbidden that she attend the PTA-sponsored after-school Sex Education Course. Ashamed to admit her ignorance, she'd tried to glean bits of information as best she could from the giggling innuendo's and books hastily glanced at in bookstore or library shelves. Unfortunately, both the community and school libraries believed in keeping their more informative volumes under lock and key, and she was too embarrassed to linger for more than a moment in the bookshops.
"Wh-what?" she choked out. "What's the matter, Murray?"
Suddenly, to April's dismay, the wonderful sensations which had been coursing like liquid lightning through her inexperienced body came to an abrupt halt. Her boyfriend's impatiently trembling hands wrenched away from her fevered vaginal lips and crazily convulsing clitoris to fasten with vice-like ferocity upon her slender wrists, and her body tumbled half on his lap, half on the front seat of the car, in a lewd, sprawling position.
"M-Murray! Wh-what - "
The high school senior was in such a blind rage of passion by this time that he didn't realize just how ignorant his girlfriend actually was. Blood was pounding in his temples, blinding him and deafening him, and the only thought in his disoriented brain as he pinioned her tiny hands onto his blood-swollen length was relief.
"C'mon," he urged, hungrily, hoarsely. "I'm going crazy! Make me feel good, too!"
Murray Watson was not exactly a virgin, having actually inserted his eager potency a couple of inches inside the vagina of his seductive second cousin, Henrietta, up at the family's summer cottage last summer. It had lasted about fifteen seconds before he exploded. In addition, he'd read all available literature on the subject of love-making, from Henry Miller to EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT SEX. Almost every night in bed he planned how he would seduce his next woman - who would, preferably, be April Maye - and he'd paid close attention to each and every locker room discussion.
Now that he actually found himself entwined in lewd embrace with a more or less willing girl, however, all his carefully nurtured techniques flew from his passion-bewildered mind. All he could think of was relief for his painfully aching penis, and he didn't pause to think that his over-exuberant demands might alarm the innocent April.
"Oooooohhhhh!" the brunette's shocked whinny echoed through the steamed-over car, drowning out the sounds of pelting raindrops and distant summer thunder.
Of course, she'd known that males were built differently from females - that's why there were odd-looking toilets in men's washrooms, and why they wore pants with fly openings all the time. But nothing in her wildest dreams had prepared her for the feel of the iron-hard, hotly throbbing rod of flesh which Murray was forcing her to touch. A shrill squeal of petrified horror burst from between her parched lips as an image of the color plate of reptiles in her natural history textbook shivered before her mind's eye. Thick, squirming rattlesnakes ... deadly boa constrictors ... blood-thirsty, midnight black chicken snakes ...
"Aaeeeeehhhhh!" she cried again, loudly and urgently this time, trying to tug her hands away from Murray's fierce grip. "Let go of meeeeeee! Stop it!"
A violent wave of shame for having let herself get into this situation washed over April, speeding adrenalin through her veins and giving her the energy to wrench away from Murray. She fell back against the door on the passenger's seat side of the car, gasping for breath, hot tears of shame pricking at the corners of her fear-widened eyes.
What have I let myself do? her brain spun wildly. Feeling a guy's - thing - in a car, like a cheap tramp! Letting him touch me down there! Oh, God, don't let anyone find out! What would they say about me?!
The sex-maddened high school senior's body crashed against the opposite car door in the vehemence of April's withdrawal. As the door handle jabbed between his ribs, a blind wave of lust-engendered rage swelled over him.
"Come here, ya cock-teasing bitch!" he spat out, simultaneously appalled and excited by his unaccustomed obscenity as he lunged across the front seat toward her. "What's the big idea? Turning me on and then actin' like this! I dunno what your fuckin' game is, but you ain't gonna get away with it!"
April blanched and cowered against the car door, her initial emotions of arousal entirely wiped away at the sound of her normally gentlemanly boyfriend's locker room language. Could this be the same Murray who had claimed, brief minutes before, to love her?
"Don't you dare, you - you animal!" she shrieked as she heard the metallic sound of a zipper being jerked open and saw - for the first time in her sheltered sixteen years - a swollen, angry-red male penis. How ugly it was, with distended veins throbbing along its entire length and a nasty droplet of pearl-white male fluid oozing from the slit in its bulbous head!
Through the crimson clouds of lust which swam before his lust-glazed eyes, Murray Watson dimly twisted in real terror, and understood that he'd unwittingly taken the wrong approach. More than anything else in the world he longed to feel her pliant female warmth pressing against him again, but he was simply too excited by now to manage any more flowery declarations of affection.
"Gotta have ya!" was what he finally choked out, aware that this plea could only have a negative effect on his suddenly prudish girlfriend, but too aroused to control himself. "C'mon, please, April!"
"M-Murray! What's got into you?" April's voice was strangled as repressed passion, indignation, and pure shock intermingled in her dazed mind as his frenzied fingers gripped the heavy pole of his distended male weapon. "You're - you're crazy! Don't you dare come near me! Don't you - aahhhhhhh!"
The desire-maddened youth scarcely heard her cries through the tattoo of lust that drummed in his ears. His athletic hands groped for her fearfully squirming figure and jerked her over him, sliding his own body down so he was crouching on the front seat of the car above her awkwardly splayed form. Somehow, despite the encumbrances of jeans tangled around his ankles and the cramped quarters of the Mustang's front seat, the determined youth managed to contact the smooth flesh of April's upper leg with his throbbing thickness.
"Oohhhh God!" he groaned at the electrifying sensation.
Once again, he tried to grope for her hands, to force her to jerk him off. Even at this point of arousal, he never seriously considered actually making love to his timid girlfriend - he realized that would alienate her forever - but he needed relief so badly he feared he would explode.
"C'mon, April, please!" he croaked. "Do it to me! Make me feel good!"
The sixteen year old was too panic-stricken to really hear what Murray was saying. In her fear dazed mind, the only reality was the pulsing rod of heated flesh grazing her shamelessly exposed thigh, and the fearsome word which blazed in foot-high scarlet letters before her mind's eye. RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!
Every gruesome newspaper story she'd ever read, each magazine article and story she'd heard whispered at slumber parties, flashed through her mind in a split second. Dying men saw their life play in rapid motion before them this way, the inexperienced girl knew, and she reflected dizzily that she would far, far rather die than be raped in the front seat of her own boyfriend's red Mustang!
"NNOOOOOOOO!" she shrieked, clawing with her long fingernails at his back in blind disregard for the pain her sharp scratches caused as she raked through the thin fabric of his cotton tee-shirt. "NO! STOP! NOOOOOO!"
As she howled in fright and anger, the slender brunette clamped her shuddering thighs together with surprising force. Her horror of letting Watson touch her panties with his thing - maybe even tug them off and actually molest her virginal pussy! - was so intense that a new and even greater supply of adrenalin poured through her veins and invested her with the strength of a demented lunatic. As she strained her leg muscles to the utmost limit of endurance, she was too overwrought to notice until several seconds had passed that she'd trapped the youth's warmly pulsating cockshaft between her thighs.
"Aaarrrrhhhhh!" groaned Murray, beside himself with pleasure-pain as the girl's slim thighs gripped his sperm-swollen virility with Herculean vigor. "Jeez, April, don't do that! Christ, stop! I can't stand it! I'm -I'm gonna cum!"
Even as his feverish moans echoed through the small automobile, the seventeen year old school athlete's wiry figure stiffened and jerked as his unbearably stimulated manhood began to spew forth a cascade of long pent-up male seed. The jets of boiling sperm shot from his passion-engorged testicles down through his elongated penile shaft, rushing with the reckless speed of water spilling down a mountain cliff from a flood-glutted stream.
"Ohhh ... ooooo ... aahhhhh ..."
For several mindless seconds the young boy was aware of nothing save the exquisite spasms of release which wracked his adolescent loins. As the last heated drops gushed from his deflating member, however, a chilling wave of shame broke over him, engulfing him in a black and fathomless ocean of humiliated inadequacy.
What kind of a man would do a dumb thing like that? he asked himself as he pulled away from his innocent girlfriend's inert figure. Shooting my load all over her legs and her dress like I was a pimply freshman instead of almost a college guy - shit, what would the other guys say if they knew I'd done something so stupid?!
Although he didn't dare look at April, he sensed that she was dragging herself to a sitting position and weeping softly as she tried to wipe the thick gobs of sperm from her soiled thighs and wrinkled pink shirtwaist. Suddenly a rush of vindictive fury washed over him and a black scowl of righteous masculine indignation spread over his normally affable face as he zipped his fly up over his limp and sticky phallus.
"Good work, real good!" he sneered, hardening his heart against the pretty brunette's plaintive whimpers. "Whaddja go and do a crazy thing like that for? You act like you're still in junior high or something!"
April stopped dabbing at her stained shirtwaist with the back of her hand and raised her tear-reddened blue eyes toward his scowling face in indignant consternation. She felt as though a bucket of ice-water had been abruptly dumped over her head, for in the five months since they'd been going steady Murray had never spoken to her in such a tone. How dare he do so now, after violating her in this vulgar way?
For a long moment there was a silence in the stuffy car, broken only by the sharp click of Murray's lighter as he lit a Marlboro. The girl's hand had frozen an inch above her sperm-soaked hem, and her large eyes were riveted to his face with such burning intensity that the boy reddened and turned toward the rain-spattered window.
"It's all your fault," he muttered, drawing deeply on the cigarette. "Jeez, April, don'tcha know nothing 'bout how a woman's supposed to act, huh?"
If the trembling teen-ager hadn't been in such a state of shock, she would have realized that Murray's aggressiveness was a mere involuntary reaction intended to soothe his wounded male ego. As it was, she merely sat there in stupefied mortification, her shoulders slumped, her hand still frozen above her cum-streaked upper leg. Her whole world was crashing down around her; she and Murray had been the ideal couple, never quarreling, never necking in the school corridors or dancing indecently close at mixers, never provoking gossip or off-color jokes.
At first April Maye was so hurt and baffled by the cruel behavior of the boy she'd talked herself into half-believing she loved that she felt nothing but a dull, numb pain. Then, to her surprise, anger flamed through her veins, and her outraged voice pierced through the tense silence.
"So it's all my fault, is it?" she spoke so softly he had to strain to understand her, but her voice never once quavered. "Well, if that's the way you feel, Murray Watson, I guess you'll want this back."
The oversized class ring slipped easily over her slender white finger to land with a hollow plop of finality on the floor of the car. April's glassy eyes followed the shining symbol as it rolled under the seat and vanished beneath a pile of greasy rags and empty tins of brake fluid and car wax. There was, she noted dully, a shimmering droplet of partially dried semen on its ruby insignia.
"Hey - what'cha doin'? Hey, April-" Even as the boy's astonished cries rang out, the indignant young girl was throwing open the car door and running up the sidewalk to her house, her firm young hips undulating in vigorous rebellion. She never looked back once, not even when she heard the other door of the Mustang flung open and several male steps echoing on the pavement behind her.
The door slammed, and Murray slunk back into the car, wiping the rain from his face. For a moment he sat there, staring blankly at the steering wheel. Then, after several minutes of groping in the back seat, he extracted his $50 class ring and slipped it onto his finger.
"What the hell," he muttered, staring at the smudged gold ornament gloomily.
Pulling the ring from his hand, he stuffed it into his Levi's pocket and revved up the motor of Ids old Ford. Soon, he'd be an Amherst man - and everything about Evanston, Illinois, especially April Maye, would be mere ashes in the dustbin of the past.
* * *
April was standing in the bathroom, breathing a ragged sigh of relief as she realized her mother was sound asleep and preparing to run a cleaning bath, when she heard the souped-up Mustang roar away down the street.
"So that's the end of that," she muttered, finding it peculiar that she felt nothing but cold lethargy at the thought.
As she sank into the sudsy tub several minutes later, the troubled teen-ager made a vow to herself.
"Never, never, never," she whispered vehemently, "will I let myself get involved with a disgusting male!" Her eyes trailed down over her sperm-spattered upper legs and she shuddered in involuntary disgust. "Men!" she breathed as she vigorously sloshed soapy water over her besmirched virginal loins. "They're nothing but animals, after all. I'll never let one of them hurt me again!"
Unbidden tears suddenly streamed from her eyes, plopping into the full bathtub. April tried to force them back, but they only fell more copiously.
"It's n-nasty s-sex that's ruined everything!" she sobbed into her washcloth. "Dirty, disgusting sex!"
Then, remembering her indecent excitement, her tears flowed harder than ever.
CHAPTER THREE
The Koffee Korner was the only air-conditioned building in Dundale, West Virginia, and there were a number of God-fearing senior citizens who would cross to the other side of Main Street rather than pass by its glass doors with their smiling snowman sticker.
"Work of the devil!" declared the wizened spinster daughter of the late Baptist minister, and many of the residents of this sleepy Allegheny mountain hamlet shared her oft-voiced opinion. "If the Lord wanted us to be cold, he'd have made it winter all year 'round. An' what's more, did you see how quick it was put up? Overnight, and that's Satan's mark if I ever saw it! An' whoever heard of a building that looks like bricks, but ain't, and that never needs paintin'? Unnatural, I say! I'd sooner walk over Poppa's grave, God rest his soul, than set foot in that bed of sin, an' every night I pray to Jesus to forgive my nephew for workin' there!"
April Maye was untroubled by worries of damnation as she sipped a Coke in the welcome coolness of the pre-fab aluminum coffee shop. After a harrowing bus ride along narrow, twisting mountain roads bordered by houses so decrepit she could scarcely believe her eyes, she was relieved to find something at least vaguely reminiscent of suburban Chicago. Dundale, shabby and ghost-like as it was, had the first bus station washroom with toilet paper since they'd crossed the state border, and her heart had warmed at the familiar sight of a MacDonald's hamburger stand on the outskirts of the small village.
The pretty brunette sipped her cold drink as slowly as possible to postpone the dreaded moment when she would have to ask someone how to reach Serendipity Scientific Health Spa. Not only did she find it nearly impossible to understand the drawling southern accents, but she was also more than a little wary of reaching her destination. What if it were as much of a slum as everything else she'd seen so far in these remote mountains? If Mother had known what she was condemning her only daughter to, she'd never have insisted on this insane summer vacation scheme!
Hot tears of self-pity pricked in the corners of the sheltered schoolgirl's azure-blue eyes as she contemplated the dire fates which might very well befall her in this uncivilized countryside. No telling what terrible disease she might catch from the unsanitary conditions - hepatitis, dysentery, typhoid fever, perhaps even cholera - and she'd be so far from a hospital that she might die before receiving medical care. Then Mother would be sorry! And so would Murray Watson!
The pretty adolescent ordered another Coca-Cola and fell into a moody reverie about what people would say about her after her funeral. It would serve Mother right for exiling her to this Godforsaken spot where the people couldn't even speak proper English!
For several minutes the teenaged brunette indulged herself in these martyred reflections, but since she was basically an honest girl, she eventually had to admit that she'd put up very little resistance to her eccentric parent's plans for her summer. It had seemed preferable to be far from Evanston, even if that meant being with some whacky weirdo's, than having to endure the sort of mental anguish she'd gone through the last two weeks of high school. All those girls pretending to sympathize because she'd broken up with Murray, and then whispering about her behind her back ... Murray, himself, studiously ignoring her as he passed her in the corridor with a very buxom blonde senior clinging possessively to his muscular arm ... her mother gloating over the ruptured romance, and babbling endlessly about stupid Dr. Stanislas Ivanoff, her newest fixation ... all the guys who kept ringing her up and asking her out, and then trying to squeeze her breasts or ram their nasty tongues down her throat.
Finally, she'd simply stopped dating, which gave her girlfriends something else to gossip about. To make things worse, she'd unexpectedly earned the highest scores in the entire junior class on her College Board Tests. Suddenly, instead of being a normal and universally accepted member of the class, she'd been regarded with suspicion by both the "socialites" and the "intellectuals".
April had hoped that by disappearing for the summer and returning to school in September with a deep southern suntan and a friendly smile, bygones would be bygones and she'd once again resume her old role of "a sweet kid". But now that she actually found herself stranded in the wilds of West Virginia, she feared that she'd simply jumped out of the frying pan into the fire.
Tossing her short hair away from her face, the sixteen year old tried to dispell her gloomy thoughts. She couldn't sit in the Koffee Korner drinking Coke for the rest of the summer; she'd have to screw up her courage and ask the man behind the bar for directions to her summer home. Suddenly it occurred to her that never before in her life had she been forced to make a decision or initiate an action without knowing exactly what to say, what attitude to assume.
"Ya headin' out to the doctor's place?"
April nearly jumped out of her skin as the lanky man from behind the counter suddenly materialized beside her. His words made as little sense as if he'd been speaking Japanese, and for a long moment she could only stare in astonishment at his looming face.
Gosh, he's ugly! she shuddered silently as the male bent still closer to her. The greasy black hair falling over his gaunt, acne-scarred face and veiling his leering eyes was bad enough - but the blackened stubs of his teeth were positively sickening!
"Wh-what did you say?" she stammered at last. "Ex-excuse me, b-but - "
"Dr. Ivanoff," the man said without removing his cigarette butt from between his lips. "Ya headin' out that way?"
This time, April caught the name "Ivanoff" and nodded numbly. Before she had a chance to consider what was going on, she discovered her feet following after the unwashed bartender out into the mid-morning heat of Main Street.
"Hello. I am Lars Mortensen."
April gaped at the speaker, relief surging through her veins as she saw that he was not one of the local hillbillies. Although he spoke with an odd accent, he was clean and as handsome as a travel brochure picture of a Scandinavian ski instructor. Quite apart from the stranger's wholesome good looks, she knew he was not a native of Dundale because it was impossible that any of them would drive a glistening silver-gray Monte-Carlo Laundau.
"You must be April Maye," the fair-haired young man continued as the slim young brunette started at him in mute surprise. "I am one of Dr. Ivanoff's interns, and I have the pleasure of being chosen to drive you to Serendipity Scientific Health Spa."
As the young girl realized that she was not destined to spend the next two months roughing it in some hovel in the company of crude mountaineers who had never heard of orthodontists or modern plumbing, her worry-tensed face relaxed into a spontaneous smile. Lars, suddenly realizing that the newest addition to the staff was prettier than he'd noticed at first, grinned back and reached over to open the passenger's seat door. He was somewhat surprised to discover that the girl was so youthfully innocent-looking, but reminded himself of the American expression that "you can't tell a book by looking at its cover."
The two young people continued to smile rather shyly at one another as the Koffee Korner counterman loaded April's lipstick-red luggage into the trunk. Although he labored with uncharacteristic speed, smiling in the subservient manner affected by the progress-minded sector of Dundale when in contact with Dr. Ivanoff and his entourage, they didn't appear to notice his zeal. He had to cough twice before the tall blond student handed him a dollar tip.
* * *
The bedroom which April had been assigned looked out over a wide green valley at the bottom of which meandered the silver-green ribbon of a narrow river. In the distance rose the hills of the Allegheny's, purple-blue against the backdrop of the most magnificent sunset the urban-raised girl had ever seen. She remained leaning out her window until the huge orange ball of the sun sank behind the mountains and long shadows loomed over the valley, then turned with a faint smile of pleasure lingering on her lips.
"For once," she murmured, "one of Mother's mad ideas turned out to be a winner! It was really dumb of me to be so scared this morning. Everything's great here, after all - just perfect!"
Her sparkling eyes roved around the room which would be her private sanctuary for the next two months. It was so different from the dirty log cabin she'd envisioned that she had to chuckle aloud; it was far nicer than her bedroom at home -quite like a small suite in a luxury hotel. Her own private bathroom ... modernistic white pine furniture ... a soft red carpet ... a small fireplace ... and that magnificent view!
Although April would have liked to just sit quietly and savor her happiness, it was almost time for dinner and she wanted to change her clothes and clean up a bit so she'd make a good impression on the rest of the staff. So far, she'd only met Lars and Dr. Stanislas Ivanoff, both of whom were much nicer than she'd expected anyone having the vaguest association with one of her mother's crazy caprices.
The tall blond youth, a psychiatric student from the University of Copenhagen, had explained that he was working here because of the good pay and because he had a "great curiosity" about Ivanoff's experimental ideas. Though he seemed a little shy and somewhat disinclined to discuss the Serendipity Spa, she'd caught his admiring glance flickering over her as he animatedly talked about his Christmas vacation jobs as a ski instructor in Norway, Sweden and Austria. Instinctive female knowledge told her that although the handsome student found her very attractive, he'd never force his lewd advances on her the way Murray Watson had. But who cared about her ex-steady, anyway? Lars was MUCH more handsome, with his manly physique, wavy hair the color of sun-ripened hay, and piercing blue eyes.
Perhaps, the exhilarated sixteen year old reflected as she slipped out of her rumpled linen skirt and flower-print cotton blouse, he'll ask me for a date! I bet he won't try to paw me like an immature high school creep!
As the shapely adolescent padded into the robin's-egg blue bathroom, she was startled to find that there were floor-to-ceiling mirrors on three of the four walls, and even several mirrored panels in the ceiling. Her first impulse was to drop her eyes as she removed her pastel pink panties and matching brassiere, but it was impossible to ignore the oft-reflected image of her curvaceous young body for very long.
"It must be some trendy kind of modern interior design," she reassured herself as she eased down into the oversized tub. "And now that I'm a working girl and miles away from Mother, it's time I began acting more sophisticated."
Despite her brave words, however, the dark-haired teenager was a little embarrassed by the sight of her ripely jutting breasts jiggling on the walls and ceiling as she soaped the sensitive, rose-tipped mounds. When she caught herself wondering what handsome Lars Mortensen would think of her feminine charms, she actually blushed and turned her thoughts back to Dr. Stanislas Ivanoff.
What a marvelous man he was! And he treated her more like a long-lost relative or eagerly awaited guest than a lowly employee! April didn't remember her father, who'd packed his bags and vanished from the big house in the best section of Evanston when she was only four years old, but as she ran her washcloth over the lithe contours of her newly-developed figure, she reflected that the good-looking scientist was just the sort of Dad she'd always dreamed of.
She'd not had a chance to talk to the salt-and-pepper-haired director, for he had a three o'clock conference with a patient, but ten minutes with her charming new boss had convinced the young girl that this would be the most interesting summer of her life. Oh, he was a little peculiar - all scientists were - with his habits of curling his handlebar moustache and liberally lacing his conversation with erudite quotations from famous personages; but the paternal way he'd kissed her on both cheeks and patted her shoulders as he hurried off had made her feel as if she really belonged here.
April's pleasant reverie was interrupted by the loud tolling of an old-fashioned dinner gong. Leaping out of her Badedas-scented bath, she scurried back into her bedroom and threw on the dress which happened to be on top of her unpacked suitcase. Had she had more time, she might have decided that last year's mint-green sundress was unfashionably short and a bit too snug across the bust, but in her haste she gave herself only a fleeting glance in the looking glass.
Delicious odors of roasting meat wafted across the well-cared-for lawn as the young girl quickly made her way across the wide, tree-shaded mall which separated the employee's dormitory building and the main dining room and lecture building. Suddenly she felt ravenously hungry, for one of her mother's latest whims was a strict vegetarian regime. Besides, she'd eaten nothing during the alarming bus ride save except half a stale cheese sandwich.
Hunger was forgotten, though, the instant she entered the vast, cathedral-ceiling dining hall. Not only was the architecture of the place intimidating - somehow managing to impart the hedonistic heathen aura of a Viking banquet hall, despite the stark, almost monastic simplicity of its modern white-pine furnishings - but the sight of large numbers of elegantly-clad adults sipping cocktails suddenly reminded her that she was nothing but an ignorant little schoolgirl. Most immediately distressing was the fact that all the other women wore haute couture trouser ensembles or nostalgia-inspired mid-calf or above-the-ankle length skirts.
April Maye's cheeks flushed bright crimson as she came to an abrupt standstill, then turned on her heel as she decided to run back to her room and change into something more suitably trendy. Unfortunately, the cork-bottomed sole of her backless platform shoe caught in a crevice of the Provencal-style parquet floor and she pitched forward with a shrill, involuntary cry.
Several pairs of curious eyes turned toward the entrance at the unexpected sound; glasses and canap�s froze in mid-air as blas� eyebrows were raised. The sixteen year old wished that she could vanish beneath the polished tile floor, but as she dimly perceived her employer's face peering at her from the swimming sea of strangers clustered around the bar, she steadied herself and moved robot-like into the room.
Even as she was thinking that she looked like last year's SEVENTEEN magazine junior model wandering into a VOGUE photographer's studio, April felt a firm masculine hand grasp her arm. Dizzily jerking her gaze up from the floor, she saw that her boss had materialized beside her and was leading her into the assembly with old-world finesse.
"Don't feel shy," he whispered, his rugged face lighting with a kindly smile which immediately put the young girl more at ease. "There's no one here but our little staff family. The patient's can't see us - it's a one-way glass."
Astonished, April looked toward the dozen or so people milling at the far end of the long room. Sure enough, a clear glass wall separated them from the five people here beside her. It was strange to hear Dr. Ivanoff call them patients, though; the well-dressed men and women certainly didn't look unhealthy to her.
In the next moment, she forgot about the "patients" as the good-looking scientist handed her a drink and began introducing her fellow workers.
"My cousin, Sabina Ivanoff," he gestured toward a Junoesque blonde of about thirty. "She's my research assistant and secretary - don't know how I'd get along without her."
The voluptuous woman slanted her feline green eyes, gave a cool nod in April's direction, then returned her attention to the cigarette she was fitting into a jade-handled holder.
"And here's Ted Kingsland. He's from UCLA - plays football. And Angus Hughes-Simpton, from England."
The college athlete gripped her hand with firm self-assurance, prolonging the handshake a second longer than necessary as he flashed a toothpaste-ad smile and gazed deep into the young girl's eyes. An unwanted pink rose over April's face as a strange wave of sensation swept through her and left her feeling oddly dizzy. Hastily, she turned toward the other student assistant.
Angus's huge paw enveloped the small-boned teenager's hand like a damp sponge, and as she looked at his square-jawed face topped by an untidy thatch of sandy hair and his thickset bovine body, she fought back an impolite impulse to giggle. His name suited him so perfectly!
"And now," the doctor declared, "let's eat. It's young April's first night here, so let's not bore her with shop talk about the patients. Just one thing: Sabina, Mr. Whatnough looked ever so much better after your therapy session. I must congratulate you!"
Sabina laughed, tossing her long golden hair and twisting her lush lips into a lewd smile. "And so did Mrs. Unwin, Stanislas!"
Although the sixteen year-old girl didn't understand why the older woman had reacted so oddly to nice Doctor Ivanoff's words of praise, she didn't waste time worrying about it. She was standing beside a boy who was as handsome as a movie star, and she was sipping her very first cocktail - all was right with the world! What did it matter if the doctor's cousin was sort of cold and peculiar?
The teenager's sense of exhilaration increased by leaps and bounds during the long dinner, which was French-style with four separate courses. Lars, on her left, was strangely uncommunicative, but the dark-haired football player on her other side more than made up for the Dane's melancholy silence. As he plied her with succulent slices of rare roast beef and refilled her glass again and again with full-bodied California red wine, he accidentally grazed her hand several times and kept his dark eyes fixed to her glowing face.
"Oh, no, Ted, no more!" April giggled as the good-looking athlete reached for the wine bottle again. "I feel dizzy already."
"Don't be silly, my dear," the scientist called from across the table, peering more openly than before at the straining mounds of his new employee's breasts now that he'd had several drinks. "This is a celebration! Wer nicht liebt Wein, Weib und Gesang, Der bleibt ein Narr sein Lebanlang!"
"P-pardon?" April was impressed by the man's command of whatever language it was he'd spoken in.
"German, my dear child. It means, 'Who loves not wine, woman, and song, remains a fool all his life long'. A sentiment which goes right along with my own theories of living life to the fullest - but you'll understand that better after a few weeks here."
April dimpled at the doctor and sipped her refilled glass. How wise he is, her mind spun. This'll be the summer when I start to really live! When I grow up!
Only when the girl stood up from the table and felt her knees wobble beneath her did she realized how much the unaccustomed wine had affected her. For a brief second she worried that she'd been acting silly and loud, but since no one seemed to be giving her disapproving glances - not even the haughty Sabina, who was deep in conversation with Ivanoff - she relaxed and allowed herself to enjoy the uninhibited warmth which the wine sent flowing through her veins. This was the first time she'd drunk enough to feel intoxicated, and she decided that she liked the sensation very much indeed.
"Wow, wine sure makes it easier to talk to people!" she enthused to Ted as they all moved toward the moonlit grassy mall outside the dining hall. "I feel like I've been here for ages, instead of not even one day!"
Stanislas's silver-gray head turned toward the young girl again, smiling in fond affection. "As Horace put it, 'Whom have not the flowing cups made eloquent?'! Anyway, my dear, I'm so pleased that you feel at home here at Serendipity Scientific Health Spa!"
The shadowy darkness hid Sabina Ivanoff's pursed-lipped frown of irritation from the innocent Illinois schoolgirl, and also prevented her from noticing the lewd glints of determination which had sprung up in Ted Kingsland's cynical black eyes. She beamed happily at the others, then gazed around her in delight, taking deep breaths of invigorating mountain air.
"And it's so lovely to be out in the country!" she cried. "So much nicer than dumb old Chicago!"
"As Emerson said, 'At the gates of the forest the surprised man of the world is forced to leave his city estimates of great and small, wise and foolish.' Those wise words were often in my mind as I contemplated an appropriate location for my health spa."
"Oh, yes!" the intoxicated teenager bubbled. "I already feel real different from before!"
Ted Kingsland struck a match with unnecessary vigor and lit a Marlboro. His potent penis was stirring restlessly, painfully, and he wanted to get away someplace private with this curvaceous child-woman, not listen to the doctor's crazy quotations all night long. She was a stupid thing, just the sort of rich little bitch he detested most, but her ripe young figure and apparent eagerness for some fun and games excited him nonetheless.
I'm gonna get her first, he vowed, sucking deeply on his cigarette. Before Lars or that ass-hole, Angus! Or Ivanoff, the dirty old bastard! Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, but I've seen him looking at her cute little tits! Well, he's getting plenty of pussy already, what with his "therapy sessions" and his sexy cousin. This time it's my turn, and nothing's gonna stop me!
"Wonderful, my dear," the professor began. "As Shakespeare put it in-"
"Hey, April," Ted interrupted, rather rudely but aware that this would be excused by the generally inebriated condition of the party. "How 'bout taking a walk round the grounds before we turn in? I bet you'd like to see the place in the moonlight, and it's nice and warm out."
"Oh, what fun!" April cried. "Can we walk down and see the swimming hole?"
These last words were uttered with a sidelong glance toward Lars, the Danish medical student, for he'd mentioned the manmade swimming hole that morning in the car and had offered to take her there. All evening he'd been acting as if she didn't exist, however, and some female impulse made her want to let him know that she was miffed by his indifference.
"Sure, whatever you like," Ted took her arm. "Good night, you-all."
"Have a nice stroll, kids," the professor called after them. "Real pretty spot, the swimming hole. Take a midnight dip - best hangover prevention remedy ever!"
CHAPTER FOUR
As the young couple moved down a tree-bordered footpath into the darkness, April fell silent. Odd tingling sensations flowed from where the handsome college man clasped her bare arm to every nerve-ending of her alcohol-flooded body, calling up unwanted memories of that awful night in Murray Watson's Mustang. She'd felt the same sort of shivery excitement then ... but not nearly as strongly as she did tonight ...
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, she worried as they moved farther and farther from the others. What sort of girl goes traipsing around in the woods at night with a guy she's just met a few hours ago? Will he think I'm cheap and - and try something nasty? Gosh, I sure don't want to get off on the wrong foot my first day on the job! I don't want to get a bad reputation ...
"Cigarette?" Ted broke the silence.
"I - I don't us-usually smoke," April demurred, but when he pressed the Marlboro between her trembling fingers she accepted it anyway, not wanting to seem babyish or prudish. "I mean, at home, that is. My mother ..."
"Yeah, sure, I know," Ted's face bent so close to her as he held out a match that his wavy dark hair brushed against her forehead. "My parents are weirdo's, too. Old man's a Jehovah's witness."
A curious emotion surged through the sixteen year old girl's bloodstream, and though she told herself that she was simply glad to have someone understand about difficult family situations, in her innermost heart she knew that it was something else which was making her quiver so weakly. He was so handsome, so mature, so sympathetic! And sinful though she knew it was, she couldn't help speculating about what it would be like if he kissed her here in the woods beneath the almost full moon ...
The UCLA football player's face moved closer than ever to her own, and for one anguished instant April feared he'd read her shameful thoughts and was going to press his lips against hers. Blood throbbed in her temples as she realized she was feeling too strange and weak to stop him - to even wish to do so!
Ted, a skilled and experienced seductor, stood up straight and took hold of the young girl's hand instead of embracing her. Better to wait till she's feeling good and horny, he mused as he led her toward the swimming hole. That way she won't even think of saying no!
Forcing the faint sense of disappointment from her conscious mind, the pretty brunette turned her attention to the beauty of nature which surrounded her. This part of West Virginia, unlike most of the countryside she'd observed during the endless bus-ride that morning, had escaped the ravages of strip-mining and retained a pristine, virgin wilderness quality which deeply impressed the suburban born and raised adolescent. In the unearthly rays cast by the glowing globe of the Hunter's moon above, the scene struck April as the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen in her sixteen years.
"The forest primeval," she murmured softly, a phrase from some long-forgotten English class suddenly echoing in her wine-dazed mind.
Then, as they suddenly stepped into an open glade lit as bright as misty dawn by the lunar rays, the overwhelmed girl fell silent. Her blue eyes focused on the still pool in the middle of the tree-ringed clearing, widening in delighted astonishment at the pearl-gray reflection of the moon shimmering on the water.
"Oh Ted!" she breathed at last, and it seemed quite natural that he drew his strong arms around her. "It's so beautiful!"
She's in just the right mood, gloated the lust-obsessed youth. He scarcely glanced at the romantic June moon, having no use for such trivialities, but instead concentrated his attention on stroking the girl's softly rounded body into responsive sensuality. Christ, she's built like a million dollar bomb! What a piece of luck that ol' man Ivanoff hired an outasight piece of ass like her!
"What about a little swim?" he murmured, kneading the muscles of her slender back as he whispered into her ear. "A little dip in the moonbeams?"
Although the inexperienced young girl was staring straight into her companion's face, she was so over-stimulated that she never noticed the cynical twist of his mouth or the cold glint in his dark eyes. Her first reaction to the suggestion was one of reckless excitement - she had never been swimming in the nighttime before, nor at any time, in fact - except on a crowded beach or chlorinated swimming pool - but then her face fell.
"B-but I haven't got my bathing suit," she said, her voice sharp with regret. "Oh. I wish I did! It would have been perfect!"
To her surprise, her companion hooted with laughter.
"What's so funny?" she blushed. If there was one thing she hated, it was being ridiculed, and her figure tensed beneath the youth's lightly pressing hands.
"Hey, don't get mad April. I forgot you haven't been here very long. We always swim naked here - the patients, too. Dr. Ivanoff says that you have to get over neurotic feelings of insecurity about your body before you can come to terms with yourself."
"Wh-what? Swim without our cl-clothes?"
April was sure she'd misinterpreted Ted's words or had drunk so much wine that she was imagining things. Surely, what their boss advocated was swimming in your underwear, which was really no different from a bathing suit when you thought about it logically. Still, a shivering sensation slid through her veins like liquid lightning at the thought of revealing her bra and pantie clad figure to this handsome college man.
I'm glad I'm wearing my new sheer lace bra, she caught herself thinking, and blushed bright red in the darkness. Suddenly uncomfortably aware of the boy's hands casually kneading her shoulders, she held her body rigid to quell the shameful emotions his touch sent flaming through her loins. Goodness, what if he could read my mind? He'd think I'm a cheap slut!
"Sure!" The boy's voice was low-keyed, soothing, and his lips brushed imperceptibly against April's dark curls. "Why not? Didn't you ever go skinny-dipping when you were a kid? I remember doin' it all the time at my parents' summer place ... made me feel wild and free."
"That's what Ivanoff's talking about when he says we've gotta return to our primitive childhood natures," he continued. "But he can explain all that shit better'n me. C'mon, let's strip and have a swim!"
This was a blatant lie; the only sort of water sports Kingsland had enjoyed as a child in a Los Angeles slum quarter had been when the firemen blocked off the street and let the kids play in the spray from the water hydrants. But he'd told this and other mis-truths so often, as his career as a scholarship winner led him into contact with upper middle class citizens that he'd almost come to believe them himself.
After all, why should I let this rich bitch think she's too good for me just 'cause she comes from a ritzy suburb and I come from a slum? he rationalized. A little white lie never hurt anything, and all's fair in love and war.
Half-convinced yet still too confused to make a decision as to what sort of behavior was acceptable here at the health spa compared to back in her Illinois high school, April froze in uncertainty. As she stood in her tight-fitting white frock staring down into the tranquil water of the lake, the college man thought she could have been a marble statue with a token swathe draped over her voluptuous loins for modesty's sake. Yet her flesh was warm and quivering beneath his caressing fingers ...
Well, is she gonna stand here all night gaping at the water, or what? he asked himself irritably, fidgeting as his long cock gave an impatient lurch. All these stuck up society cunts are the same: play along with you, flirting and following you into the woods - and then the cock-teasers turn 'round and pretend they're too precious to be touched! Christ, if I weren't so horny I'd tell her where to get off!
Yet the fact of the matter was that Ted Kingsland was so sexually frustrated that he intended to do everything in his power to get inside the pretty brunette's pants. In the two weeks since he'd come from UCLA to West Virginia, he'd only been with one female, and to make matters worse, he'd been forced to watch his boss and his sexy blonde mistress, Sabina, fucking patients right and left in the name of "therapy". Ted, Angus and Lars, as mere "interns", were not allowed to join in the fun - they were expected to relieve their frustrations with local pussy from Dundale.
And now, with the new female assistant, April Maye!
Kingsland's youthful virility gave another vigorous lurch against his tight jeans as he scrutinized the dark-haired teenager's blossoming figure and compared her to the Dundale chick he'd picked up at the Koffee Korner his third night here. Jamelle, as the plump platinum blonde had been called, hadn't been all that bad, though he'd reflected that in another decade she'd look quite like the obese lady in a black maillot who adorned the tins of Olde Frothing Slosh beer which he'd had to buy Jamelle before she agreed to "go for a little drive in the woods".
Ted had even intended to "give her a ring", as he'd promised when he dropped her off outside the clapboard house where she lived with her widowed mother and six younger children. Two days later, however, Angus was fuming with rage at having caught an unmentionable disease from Lily, Jamelle's girlfriend, and the California athlete had concluded that he was better off jerking off in his bathroom than risking his health. What if he caught something that couldn't be cured by penicillin and lost his football scholarship?
Immediately after Angus' unfortunate experience, it had been announced that a female assistant would be joining the staff shortly. Ted had expected an older woman, one who shared the professor's rather bizarre sexual attitudes, rather than this nubile and seemingly innocent teenager. But what the hell - here they were out in the dark forest, alone save for the nearly-ripe silver moon, and he wasn't going to waste another moment before relieving the aching throb in his groin.
"Well, I'm going in, even if you're gonna be an uptight little kid! If it feels good, do it, that's my motto. I dunno what yours is, but I bet you're missing out on one hell of a lot of fun!"
If it feels good, do it! The words exploded like a bombshell inside the confused adolescent's alcohol-disoriented mind, and she suddenly realized that here was the perfect answer to her dilemma. How much less complicated life would be if she made decisions on this basis, instead of agonizing about other people's opinions and her reputation.
In this new frame of mind, she was able to freely admit to herself that she felt regret when Ted's pressuring hands left her body to busy themselves with the task of tugging down his hip-hugging corduroy Levi's. If I want him to like me, I've got to be mature, she thought. And I guess what Ted and the doctor mean by maturity is knowing what you want ... knowing what feels good ...
Selfishness! Self-indulgent selfishness! chimed an ominous voice from the back of her consciousness, but April chose to ignore it. That was the way Mother talked, and just the sort of thing she was trying to escape from.
Turning her attention to the intricate hook and eye fastenings of her white sundress just before Ted Kingsland yanked down his trendy black stretch-nylon shorts to reveal a massive swollen member, the nervous adolescent undid the first few fastenings. Vestiges of conditioned modesty commanded her to duck behind a bush before disrobing, but before she could seriously consider this impulse, there was an echoing splash and Ted's dive from the grassy bank into the black water of the calm swimming hole.
All plaguing questions of right and wrong, all baffling conceptions of a philosophy of life, vanished from the bemused adolescent's brain as she watched the subtle male figure glide through the still water like a mystical subterranean beast. She herself was a skillful swimmer, having attained the "flying fish" award in her country club swimming classes ("shark" was the highest distinction, but the only girls who reached that level were Olympic games aspirants and unfemine "queers").
Now, watching the college man glide through the star-sequined water, she ripped her dress away and dove into the pond.
The water was far colder than April had anticipated, accustomed as she was to temperature-controlled swimming pool. For a moment she was totally numbed, and when Ted Kingsland's arms circled around her thrashing torso, she was too grateful to feel suspicious of the way his hands eased in the direction of her scantily-covered breasts. It felt so good to float against his warm body, buoyed up by his athletically adept arms, that she never even felt his elongated rod of male flesh pressing against her naked thigh.
"Oooohh Ted!" she gurgled, clasping her hands around his muscular back. "It's so c-c-oolldd!"
"But you," the lusty twenty year old muttered, "feel so nice and warm!" His lips planted themselves against the girl's half-open mouth, and his eager tongue slipped inside before she had a chance to protest. "Just like a mermaid," he added, because he knew that was the sort of thing sixteen year old's liked to hear.
April's shapely legs tread water frantically as she returned the older boy's kiss with an ardor that shocked her. Normally, she made it a policy not to kiss boys until the second or third date, in Order not to be considered "fast" ... never in her life had she dreamed that she would be kissing a naked male in the middle of a lake at night!
This is crazy! her mind whirled. I'm asking for trouble! But although she knew she ought to break away from the intoxicating embrace before things got out of control the way they had that night with her ex-steady, she couldn't bring herself to pull away. Only when she felt something hard and hot pulsing against her belly did she come to her senses and start stroking madly across the small lake.
The water no longer felt cold as she raced blindly through the darkness, for her entire young body was burning with an inner heat that canceled out all other physical sensations. The spot where Ted's thing had touched her was especially hot, as though the imprint of his phallus had been branded on the sensitive flesh just above her low-cut bikini panties. Frightened by the intensity of her healthy young body's reaction and heartily ashamed that she'd revealed her secret wantonness to the handsome college boy, she clambered up the grassy bank in search of her dress.
Behind her, she heard Ted splashing through the water, but she didn't dare look in his direction. All she wanted to do was cover her sinful body and escape, to hide in the sanctuary of her own bedroom. Unfortunately, her discarded clothing lay on the other side of the pond, and by the time she'd reached them, Ted had followed her out of the water.
"Hey, what's going on?" he demanded, grabbing hold of April's arm and preventing her from retrieving her white dress from the ground. "What's the matter?"
"N-n-nothing," April's teeth chattered more from emotional turmoil than from physical cold, for in fact the southern night was quite warm. "I - I just th-think it's time I got back to my room, that's all."
Repressing his urge to throw the slender girl down on the ground and ram his turgid thickness straight into her without bothering with these ludicrous preliminary mating games, Ted drew April toward him and gently kissed her quivering lips. He was beginning to suspect that her timidity was not altogether a playing-hard-to-get act.
Can she possibly be a virgin? he asked himself, his elongated member throbbing more greedily than ever. Her eyes were glazed with shock and dismay as she stared between his naked legs, and Ted decided his suspicions were probably correct. Who'd ever have thought old Ivanoff'd do something so crazy as hire a little Lolita with her cherry intact! he marveled, kissing her again to distract her from the fear he read in her glassy stare at his groin.
"Don't be silly," he whispered into the warm cavern of her unresisting mouth. "You're not a little girl anymore, y'know; you're ready to grow up, and you got a lot of things to learn. There's nothing wrong with kissing, or being naked. Forget all the stuff your mother and you're crazy teachers and all ever told you! It feels good when I hold you like this, doesn't it? Well, that's all that really matters!"
April's azure eyes widened in bewilderment as she stared at the handsome face before her with its lips which gave her so much pleasure, its magical eyes which set her inexperienced figure aflame. Was he right? Everything he said seemed to make perfect sense ... but ... but ...
Sighing shakily, she dropped her gaze back down to the rigid rod of male flesh which stood out from his dark-haired loins at a menacing 90 degree angle. It was thick as a sapling tree trunk, and far longer than Murray Watson's penis had seemed that dark, rainy night in his Mustang. If only Ted would put his jeans back on and then kiss her, everything would be all right, but she didn't want to suggest this because she knew he'd think she was a silly immature schoolgirl.
"There's nothing wrong ... nothing to be afraid of," murmured the dark-haired Lothario as he eased his hands around to cup April's scantily-covered breasts. They pulsed beneath his eager fingers like two frightened baby birds, and he could tell from her accelerated breathing that she liked it in spite of herself. "Everything's good ... so good ..."
Because she wanted so badly to believe the seductive college man, the young girl deafened herself to the warnings of her conscience and leaned weakly against Ted Kingsland, closing her eyes to hide the fearsome reality of his angry-red flesh pole. He was kissing her again, thrusting his strawberry-textured tongue deep into her throat, swirling hotly around her own tingling tongue and over her teeth, and their saliva mingled in her mouth and tasted to her like honey flavored with a tinge of lust which made her shiver in uncontrollable delight.
"Noooo, I-I ... oooohhh!"
Even as her unconvincing protests echoed through the moonlit glade, April was comparing this God-like kiss to Murray Watson's inept, amateurish attempts. He had the nerve to say I didn't know how a woman should act; well, he sure didn't know how a real man like Ted Kingsland acts, that's what!
Then as the older boy's massaging hands eased down from her taut-nippled breasts to knead her pantie-protected ass-cheeks, April forgot about her ex-steady. Nothing below the waist, her mind cried out, but the rule seemed ludicrous, meaningless, now that she found herself caressing a naked male in the majestic silence of a pine-scented forest miles away from her home.
Encouraged by the teenager's lack of resistance, Ted inserted his thumbs in the elastic waistband of her white nylon-Lace panties and slowly began sliding them over the graceful curve of her girlishly slim hips. The youthfulness of her still-developing figure excited him more than he'd anticipated; it was like committing incest with Laurel, the prettiest of his three younger sisters.
"Christ, what a beautiful body you've got!" he rasped, his desire leaping out of control as his fingers grazed the silken curls of her sparsely haired pussy. "Shit, baby, you're driving me crazy!"
Suddenly April felt the dreaded male thing beating a feverish tattoo against the sensitive flesh of her upper thigh, felt the excretions oozing from its bulbous head damp against her exposed flesh. Her eyelids flew open, and her pretty face contorted into a tortured mask of terror as she gaped at Ted's face.
The college football player was leering at her, a lewd satanic gleam in his dark eyes. As if the animalistic expression which distorted his handsome face wasn't frightening enough, his swollen cock appeared twice as long and thick as it had been the first time she'd dared to look at it.
"N-n-nooo!" she jabbered, her voice shrill with trauma as she tried to struggle away from him.
There was no reply from the amoral youth, save a strangled gasp of passion. His hands dug deeper into the tender half-moons of the innocent schoolgirl's quivering buttocks, driving her half insane with unwanted arousal and weakening her knees so that they buckled and she sank to the ground.
"Oh, pleeeaassee! Please don't!" the virginal brunette Sobbed again as her oppressor's experienced fingers snaked down inside her diaphanous panties to tweak at the tumescent lips of her never-before-violated vagina. "Let go of me, pleeezzze!"
Ted regained control over himself with an effort. Shit, he didn't want to rape the kid - she might go blabbing to Ivanoff, and who knew what that weird old freak might do? Last thing he wanted to do was lose this high-paying summer job and maybe his scholarship, too.
"Easy; baby, easy does it," he soothed, forcing a calm, reasonable tone of voice. "I don't want to hurt you or anything, just make you feel good and learn to enjoy your body. You like screwing, don't you? So why pretend you don't - false modesty, Ivanoff calls it."
April sniffed tearfully, feeling a little less desperate now that his hands had stopped their indecent movement toward her cringing pussy. His fingers were still inserted inside her tiny panties, but at least they weren't going anywhere. By now, she was fervently wishing that she'd never been so foolish as to come out in the woods alone with this older boy - the situation was simply too much for her to handle.
"I - I n-never m-made love before," she choked out, staring miserably at the buttercup-sprinkled grass below her bare white feet. "And I-I ..."
She really is a virgin! Christ, this is my lucky night!
"Then it's about time you learned," he controlled the impatient lust in his voice with utmost difficulty. "You've been missing out on one of the best things life's got to offer!"
Raising her troubled eyes from the ground, the sixteen year old eyed Kingsland's turgid flesh pole with deep distrust. In the bright light of the moon, she could see every pulsing vein in the long shaft and the pearlescent droplet shimmering on its glans slit.
"No!" she whispered. "It's too big! And ... and it's not right, not unless you're in l-love!"
In the course of his young life, Ted had heard this particular clich� voiced by half a dozen other young virgins, and he had a speech already prepared which he could recite despite his painfully throbbing cock. Experience had taught him that little girls never ended up in a situation where they could be fucked unless they secretly wanted just exactly that - it was only a matter of rationalizing away their hang-ups. Kingsland, with his need to be first in all ways, quite enjoyed the challenge.
"That's ridiculous! Whoever told you that bullshit doesn't know the first thing about love! Nobody believes -in that old-fashioned crap nowadays!"
April blushed, feeling uncomfortably young and gauche. She was no longer panic-stricken, however; indeed, now that Ted had stopped acting like a wild animal, she didn't quite know what had frightened her so badly.
"C'mon, let's sit down and have a talk," the sex-hungry college man murmured.
Keeping one hand inside the quivering brunette's panties, he eased her down on the grass with his other. He crouched beside her, so close that their legs were pressed together and his massive member would be positioned in front of her pussy if he rotated his hips a few inches toward her. For an excited moment he contemplated doing just that, but then a better idea occurred to him.
"Now, let's have some fun! Lemme show you something you'll like real well."
The girl shivered, gazing again at the huge phallus dangling so dangerously close to her vulnerable loins. She shouldn't be sitting here, she knew, but a strange kind of rapidly mounting curiosity, plus a fear of acting childish, prevented her from moving.
"Don't worry, baby," Ted assured her. "I'm not going to do nothing you don't like. We're just gonna learn about each other's body's, like Dr. Ivanoff says we oughta."
A dizzy sense of d�j�-vu swept through the young brunette as the handsome college athlete took hold of her hand and guided it toward the pulsating pole of his man-hood. This was just the nasty thing Murray Watson had tried to force her to do! Yet oddly enough, as her timid fingers came into contact with the glistening male shaft, she found it pleasantly warm and smooth and felt more of the sense of revulsion she'd suffered on the previous occasion.
"It ... it's nice ... it feels alive ..." she heard herself breathe.
"C'mon, put your hand around it! Squeeze it! Ooohhh, yeah! Like that! That makes me feel so good, baby!"
The thick penis swelled and throbbed beneath her obediently clasping fingers, and to her surprise April found that she rather liked the sensation. It was thrilling to think that she was bringing pleasure to handsome youth who knew so much more about life and love than she did.
"Now I'm gonna make you feel good, baby, just like you're doing to me."
As he spoke, the dark-haired youth yanked the adolescent's white lace panties down over her shapely legs and zeroed his skillful middle finger over her petal-pink pussy lips in the direction of her nerve-filled clitoris. A satisfied grunt burst from his chest as the small button quivered and tautened beneath his prodding fingertip. Now she was all his! After a few minutes of finger-fucking she'd be so turned on that she wouldn't dream of trying to stop him any longer!
"Aaahhhh!" April yelped, sharply drawing in her breath as a wave of pure delight wafted out to every nerve ending in her innocent body. This must be the most wonderful feeling on earth - it was ten times more delicious than when she squeezed her frustrated thighs together in the privacy of her bed. Whether it was right or wrong, she knew she wanted it to continue forever!
"Like that, honey?" gloated Ted, gently removing her gingerly stroking fingers from his rampant thickness. "Now we're gonna try something even better!"
Before April had a chance to consider what he had in mind, she found herself being positioned so that she was staring straight up at the boy's sparsely-haired, taut-muscled thighs with his huge hardness dancing inches away from her astonished eyes. Her shock was so great that she scarcely noticed that he'd crouched down with his head just above her most private feminine flesh.
"Wh-what ... oh, Ted, wh-what - ?"
Even as the stammered words echoed through the clear night air, the teenager felt warm breath pulsing over her sensitive vagina and realized with a violent rush what he intended to do. He's going to put his mouth down there! Oh, he mustn't! What's it going to feel like?
An avid curiosity overwhelmed her vague doubts as Ted's dark head buried itself between the "vee" of her lewdly outspread naked legs. While his tongue flicked out to graze her sensitive cuntal flesh, his hands groped toward her breasts, tugged off her brassiere, and began teasing her tender nipples into erect little buttons of delightful sensation.
"What am I gonna do?" Ted's voice was muffled as he burrowed deeper between the silken strands of pubic hair. "Just a little French variation called 'soixante-neuf - you'll love it!"
Soixante-neuf? Although April Maye had earned an "a-" in second-year French class, her brain was so overwhelmed that it took her several seconds to translate the words. Finally it struck her that he meant "sixty-nine", and for the first time she understood why everyone had found it so uproariously funny when Murray Watson, her ex-steady, had been number sixty-nine on the basketball team.
Then, as Ted's spearing tongue darted between the desire-dampened petals of her quivering pussy lips, April forgot all else save the indescribable sensations which swirled through her body like liquid lightning. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift off in a cloud of pure bliss which came to an abrupt end as something warm and wet brushed against her half-open lips.
"Oowwhh!" she gasped. "Wh-What-!"
Her blue eyes popped open to meet the shocking sight of Ted's massive member grazing against her face. At once she clamped her mouth tight shut, hoping against hope that he didn't really want her to do the shameful thing she feared. It would hurt terribly because he was so big - and besides, it was just plain dirty!
But he's making you feel good by kissing you between your legs, a more honest voice echoed from the farthest reaches of the high school virgin's brain. Why is it any worse for you to put his thing in your mouth and make him feel good, too? You're being a hypocrite!
"C'mon, open up!" Ted was too wracked by pent-up desire for gentle coaxing by now, and his hands were no longer gentle as they gripped the tender flesh of the young girl's satin-skinned breasts. "Suck my cock, goddamn it! Or else I'm going to shoot my load all over your face!"
Alarmed by the re-emergence of the brutal tone of animal hunger in the naked youth's voice, April reached up a tentative hand to stroke the heavy-veined shaft dangling above her face. For a agonizing minute she stared at the huge object, wondering how she could find the courage to do this debasing thing; but then an electrical current of white-hot ecstasy shot up from her vagina as Ted's tongue located her nerve-filled clitoris, and her mouth automatically opened.
A violent shudder wracked April's innocent figure as she edged her tongue between her teeth to brush against the bulbous, lust-glistening cockhead. To her relief, it felt smooth and pleasantly warm, and the tiny droplet of pre-cum fluid which she lapped up from the slit at its tip tasted pungently exciting. A sudden surge of wanton reckless desire sped through her bloodstream as his muscular hips flicked forward and the entire head of his blood-engorged cock surged between her lips.
"Unnnggggg!" she gurgled around the huge intruding instrument, but in spite of the discomfort she felt more aroused than ever. "Aaaahhhhh!"
"That's it!" Ted gasped incoherently, pulling his perspiration and saliva-beaded face from between the young girl's trembling thighs to gape in lewd delight at her flushed cheeks hollowing and then bulging around his plunging potency. "Good girl! Suck it all the way down that sweet little throat of yours!"
As soon as her rounded lips sank obediently halfway down his impaling penis, he again buried his face in the coral-pink confines of her virginal pussy. Christ, no one except me ever tasted this sweet cunt! he gloated as he lapped as far into her clasping passage as his tongue could reach. She'll never forget this as long as she lives! And she'll never try to stop me when I get ready to ram my prick into that hot little pussy of hers!
As the impossibly gigantic male flesh rod sank deeper and deeper into her gagging throat, April's mind went blank. All she was aware of was the exquisite bliss emanating from her tongue-ravished vagina, and the pleasure-pain of accepting the ramroding cudgel between her straining cheeks. Strange, never-before-experienced sensations began churning deep within her flat young belly, and as the erotic vibrations spread out through her entire figure, she began writhing beneath Ted in uninhibited abandon.
Oh! I - I think I'm going to cum! her mind reeled. But it's a million times better than it ever was before!
The guilty, self-induced climaxes she'd experienced as she lay in her bed back home were nothing compared to the powerful waves of bliss which were surfacing inside her now. All of that was miles away and long ago, something that had happened in her childhood. Now she was a woman, and a man who was handsomer than a rock star was bringing her more pleasure than she'd ever dreamed existed. And she - quiet, unexceptional April Maye - was sucking the man's iron-hard penis and making him moan aloud!
I wish he'd put his thing in my pussy! she thought wildly. I want to do everything - to be really alive!
The thought faded as Ted's tongue worked its way back up toward her quivering clitoris and began nibbling at the nerve-filled bud in a way that spiraled her into the on-rushing current of her building orgasm. Closing her lust-glazed eyes, she concentrated on trying to bring Ted as much pleasure with her slaving mouth as she was receiving from his skillful tongue.
"Aahhh ... uummmm ... uuhhhhh ..." the disoriented teen-ager gurgled incoherently around the ramming flesh weapon, scarcely aware that the weird noises echoing in the open air were coming from her own cock-stuffed mouth.
Then, still without quite realizing what she was doing, April reached out to touch the swaying sacs of Ted's blood-engorged testicles. To her surprise, his sparsely-haired balls had the texture of warm velvet, and she was overcome with wanton abandon that she gently squeezed their resilient softness.
It's wrong - I shouldn't be touching him there - but it feels so good! her mind whirled. Somehow, the more wicked she was, the more aroused she felt and the faster her orgasm approached.
The titillating touch of the child-woman's cool fingers on his sensitive sperm sacs triggered a wild spasm of delight in the naked college athlete. He'd originally intended to pull his turgid penis away from her lips before he was going to cum and shove it into her well-lubricated virgin vagina, but now he knew he couldn't hold back his powerful release for that long.
Another time, screamed his ready-to-explode brain. She's my love-slave now, and she'll be begging for my cock in her horny little cunt!
"Watch out, baby!" he rasped, ramming his elongated tongue deep into her cuntal channel until it rammed up against the thin tissue of her protective maidenhead. "I'm gonna cum! Cum in your hot little mouth!"
As he cried out his triumph, the twenty year-old's hot viscous sperm started churning violently inside his swollen testicles, and the first heated droplets of viscous, sperm wrenched away from his aching balls to begin their headlong flight down the long tube of his penis. "AARRRHHHHHH!" he wailed again. "CCCUUUMMMIIIINNNGGGG!"
Oh God, I'm drowning! I'm choking to death! April's mind shrieked, but she was unable to make a sound as she gulped at the crazily cascading floods of white-hot male cum which were splashing against her mouth and down into her frantically swallowing throat. The unfamiliar acridity of his bitter-sweet-tasting sperm triggered an odd masochistic excitement which flamed through her thrashing loins like an out-of-control forest fire.
Suddenly, although the climaxing student's tongue had frozen within her convulsing cuntal channel when his ejaculation began, April felt her own orgasm overwhelm her. Blackness swam before her eyes as the most miraculous ecstasy she had ever imagined rocketed her into a new universe of eternal physical bliss, a world where there existed no fearful guilt, no pleasure-inhibiting morality. While wave after magnificent wave of mind-dazzling delight crashed over her helplessly spasming young figure, the, awakened adolescent wailed out her rapture in a series of gurgling mewls as she continued to clench the plunging penis between her sperm-smeared lips.
At last, after a seeming eternity, the violence of the schoolgirl's first true climax began to subside. Ted, too, let out a satisfied grunt and rolled away from her, his deflated cock slipping from her bruised mouth with a lewd slurping sound. Now that the obscene chorus of their mutual ecstasy was silenced, April was once again aware of the chirping crickets, the hoots of owls, the indistinct rustlings of small forest animals. She lay still, a strange new smile on her semen-spattered face, listening to the peaceful night noises.
I'm not a little kid anymore, her mind murmured. I'm a woman!
For a few minutes longer she basked in the soothing warmth of post-orgasmic peace, relishing the thought that she would never be the same again after this thrilling night in the woods with handsome Ted Kingsland. She wished he'd turn toward her, whisper soft words, kiss her and tell her how good she'd made him feel. Then - oh, then she could tell him everything, all the secrets she'd kept locked in her heart for the past sixteen years. After the experience they'd shared, surely she could trust him as she'd never trusted another human before.
"Good fuck, kid! You're a real fine cock-sucker for a beginner," mumbled the college athlete, then rolled over onto his face and began to snore.
April froze at his words, every single cell in her ravished body turning to ice as the impact of his casual obscenity sank into her bemused brain. Oh, God it wasn't possible! How could he say something so crude after that beautiful experience?
"T-Ted?" Her voice was low, pleading. "Oh, Ted!"
There was no answer save an extra-loud snore, and April rose robot-like to her feet. Although her knees felt too weak to support her, she managed to slip her grass-stained dress over her cum-matted hair, thrust her feet into her sandals, and pick up her cold and clammy underwear. Without a backward glance she started down the path toward the health spa at a half-run, her humiliation and misery too poignant for tears.
To the shame-stricken adolescent's intense relief, the floodlights in the mall had been turned off and there was only one pale gold cube in rows of windows of the enclosing dormitory's. April tried to tiptoe as she passed this one window, stepping off the gravel pathway onto the dew-drenched grass, but high cork heel of her sandal tangled on a twisted willow root and sent her sprawling heavily onto the pebbled sidewalk.
Her knees were badly cut; even in the inky darkness she could make out trickling rivulets of blood, and after the initial shock had passed and she was once again hurrying toward her room, stinging arrows of pain shot from her injured legs to every nerve ending in her exhausted body. Vet April was only aware of her physical pain as she gaped in perturbation at the face that appeared silhouetted in the single square of yellow light.
Sabina Ivanoff's disdainfully blas� sneer haunted the compunctious schoolgirl as she tossed and turned in the throes of insomnia, then invaded her dreams as she drifted into a nightmare. Legions of naked males, all of them brandishing swollen cocks the size of baseball bats, were advancing upon her as she lay tied down on a stone slab in the middle of a Roman amphitheater, while Sabina, clothed in a transparent Toga, stood to one side strumming on a fiddle and chanting obscenities in a low, mesmerizing voice.
Hanging from the golden cord which girded her loose robe was a shining silver dagger with blood stains on its polished jade sheathe.
CHAPTER FIVE
"We missed you at breakfast and lunch, April." Dr. Stanislas Ivanoff drew deeply on his hand-carved briar pipe and smiled in a way that told the nervous teen-ager that she'd committed a faux pas. "Mealtimes are our Community Spirit Hour here at Serendipity Spa, my dear. We were all sorry that the newest staff member didn't join us."
The sixteen year-old shifted uneasily on the broad leather couch which edged nearly an entire wall of the doctor's elegantly modernistic office. Not wanting to meet his eyes, she stared unhappily at one of the vivid-hued abstract paintings which hung on the wall behind his large walnut desk.
Did his cousin tell him that she saw me standing outside her window with my dress all stained and wrinkled, and my underwear in my hand? April blushed at the memory despite all her efforts to control the redness creeping up over her neck and cheeks. Oh, I'm sure she did - he's looking at me so funny. And anyway, she's his assistant -she's bound to say something if she knows a new worker's nothing but a cheap, trouble-making slut!
"I ... I guess I just didn't feel very hungry," she stammered. "M-maybe I shouldn't have drunk so much wine last night ..."
The excuse rang feebly in April's own ears, but she assured herself that it was not strictly a lie. After all, if she hadn't been feeling intoxicated, she'd never have been so foolish as to go running off into the dark woods with a boy four years older than she was; and the thought of seeing Ted Kingsland sneering at her from across the dining table had effectively wiped out every trace of her appetite.
"Come, come, my dear," the doctor scoffed. "Didn't you take the midnight swim I recommended for a hangover prevention?"
April was sure from the good-looking scientist's tone and the almost hurt expression on his face that he knew she wasn't telling him the whole truth. Probably all psychiatrists can read minds, she thought mournfully, even if Sabina didn't tell on me. Oh dear! I really wanted him to like me ...
Blushing bright red, she stared around the examining room without really seeing the shaggy Finnish rug, stream-lined Scandinavian modern desk, or hand woven curtains. Despite the air-conditioning, she felt so warm that a little trickle of perspiration was running down the crevice between her high-set breasts. If only Dr. Ivanoff hadn't scheduled her bi-weekly Staff Morale Conference for today - by tomorrow she might at least have regained some shreds of self-respect and composure.
But how can I ever look myself in the face again? she despaired. And the worst of it all is that I can't forget the way Ted's tongue felt! Every time I think about last night I feel like it's still licking at my pussy! I must be really, really sick! Just a dirty-minded slut!
" - haven't heard a word I've been saying, April!"
The doctor's last words broke into the depressed teen-ager's self-pitying reverie, and another wave of crimson spread over her pretty face. "Oh, I'm s-sorry, Dr. Ivanoff. I guess I was daydreaming ..."
Stanislas Ivanoff stared seriously at his embarrassed student assistant, then rose from behind his desk and came to sit beside her on the soft leather sofa.
"I'm worried about you, my dear," he placed one hand on her bare knee in a gesture of fatherly concern. "Last night you seemed so happy, so eager to become part of our Serendipity family, but today you look as though something's bothering you. Physically, you're looking fine - perfect specimen of a young, developing female - but there is a sadness in your eyes. Perhaps you are having your menstrual period?"
"N-no I'm f-fine, Dr. Ivanoff."
It was embarrassing that he should speak of such intimate things, but April told herself that of course a physician took these matters more casually than other people. Even more disturbing was the strange effect his soothing hand and searching eyes was having on her traitorous body. The pink uniform she'd been issued this morning looked more like a tennis dress that a nurse's aide costume, and although she'd specified her measurements on the application form, it was size 6 instead of the size 8 she normally wore.
Even if the doctor can see half your breasts and all the way up to your panties, that's no reason to be feeling this way! she admonished herself, fidgeting on the couch in a vain effort to pull the skimpy frock down over her full-fleshed thighs. What's the matter with you? Why do you have to keep thinking about nasty SEX all the time?
"You'll feel much better, my dear girl, if you talk to me about your problem. That's the reason I like to meet with the staff in my examining room twice a week. Goethe wrote, 'Man is born not to solve the problems of the universe, but to find out where the problem begins'. That's what I'm here to do - help you solve your problems. You can talk to me as though I'm your father, April!"
Tears pricked in the corners of the confused adolescent's cerulean blue eyes at the scientist's sympathy, and she parted her pink lips, intending to say something about last night's disturbing dream. He was so wise that he could no doubt discern her real troubles without her having to actually voice the shameful details, and maybe he could manage to cure her sickness. By now, April Maye was half convinced that she was hopelessly neurotic - why else would she be so obsessed by sexual matters; what else could explain the unwanted dampness of her crotchband and tingling between her legs which plagued her whenever she thought of Ted's vile tongue?
To the girl's astonishment, she heard herself blurting out the entire story. Tears flowed over her flushed cheeks as she related the self-incriminating facts, but in spite of her best efforts she could not seem to stop the headlong flood of her confession. Only when the kindly professor took her in his arms and let her weep on the shoulder of his Harris tweed jacket did her sobs begin to subside and her tragic tirade come to an end. There was nothing left to say - she had already revealed almost all her guilty secrets, and anything more she might say would only make him despise her more than he surely did now. "I'm s-sorry," she gulped back the last of her tears and regained a modicum of composure. "I just can't seem to control m-myself anymore! You must think I'm crazy!"
"No, April, I certainly don't think any such thing," smiled the older man. "You're ignorant, my dear, but otherwise perfectly normal! And a good cry never did anyone any harm - quite the contrary. Now, how about a beer to calm you down, and then we can talk about this some more."
"Okay." April tried to smile, but only succeeded in contorting her tear-stained features into a ludicrous mime of cheerfulness. She didn't want a beer, and she didn't want to talk to Dr. Ivanoff; all she wished was that she was a thousand miles away from here ... away from everyone she'd ever known ... away from herself.
"Horrible stuff," remarked the professor as he extracted two cold "Old Frothing Slosh" tins of beer from a built-in refrigerator in the paneled wall. "But I don't want to alienate the locals by bringing in something drinkable like Tuborg or Luenbrau."
The young girl didn't really listen, for she was busy tugging down her shamelessly disarrayed pink uniform and fighting back a fresh flood of tears as she realized the nice doctor had seen her pink-flowered panties and the ten red bruises that Ted's fingers had left on her tender-fleshed thighs last night. There were telltale marks on her breasts as well, but thank God he couldn't see those.
"Now, April," Dr. Ivanoff began, sitting down close beside her on the couch and once again putting a friendly hand on her leg, "let's talk things over. I know Ted might have been a little rough with you last night, but that's no reason for you to be so upset, is it, really? As you said yourself, you enjoyed the things you did together."
"But ... but that's just it, Dr. Ivanoff! I'm so ashamed of myself!" April took a long gulp of beer, staring fixedly at the can to avoid the older man's eyes. There was a picture of an obese middle-aged lady in a black bathing suit which reminded her of her mother. "And it's no use trying to tell myself that it was only because I was drunk - it's just as bad today!"
"What's just as bad today, my dear?" queried the nefarious professor of psychology.
The sixteen year-old brunette took another nervous swallow of beer, shivering in disgrace. Why, she wondered feverishly, did she keep blurting out these obscene admissions? It was as though the clever doctor had hypnotized her without her knowing it had happened.
"What, April? You'll feel better if you tell me everything. As the Romans said, 'Confession is as healing medicine to those who have erred' - although I don't believe you've really done anything evil."
The girl opened her lush pink lips, but no words came out. And that unwanted tingling down between her legs was growing worse every second just from thinking about it!
If April Maye hadn't been so excruciatingly self-absorbed, she would have noticed by now that the older man's dark eyes were gleaming with the same sort of lustful determination which she'd seen in Ted's as he'd loomed above her on the grassy bank last night. Also, she would have taken note of the ominous bulge in his Harris tweed suit trousers. As things were, however, the sheltered schoolgirl never considered having disrespectful doubts about anyone in authority, particularly a scholarly man like Stanislas Ivanoff who knew so many learned quotations.
"Is it a strange feeling up here that's bothering you?"
April nearly jumped out of her skin as the gray-haired physician's hand suddenly slipped up under the skirt of her size-too-small uniform and grazed the super-sensitive surface of her pantie crotchband. Yet even now her distress wasn't due to any suspicion of his motives; she was merely ashamed of the unbidden feminine juices which had dampened her pink-flowered underpants.
"Well, well, my dear child, I see that's what the problem is. You're worried about an entirely natural reaction, however. All girls in their adolescence have strong sexual needs - something far too many parents don't realize. There's nothing wrong with a few dew drops of desire in your sweet little pussy!"
"Dew drops of desire," he thought rather proudly as his lust-glazed eyes searched the pretty brunette's face for her reaction to his speech. That's a nice touch - I'll have to remember that one for romantically-inclined patients. Sabina'd think it was silly, but why should she tell me how to run my therapy sessions all the time? A man's got to stick up for his rights sometimes!
At the thought of his jealous blonde mistress-cum-cousin, the salt-and-pepper haired doctor rose to his feet and moved toward the built-in bar, much to April's relief. Under the pretext of pouring himself a stiff bourbon and getting the little girl another can of "Olde Frothing Slosh" beer, he checked to make sure the door to his examining room was securely locked. Sabina didn't object to his experiments with the patients, but she had some sort of a complex about this young virgin. Stanislas suspected that the thirty year old was beginning to worry - quite needlessly, he thought - about losing her stunningly voluptuous figure and magnetic aura of sexuality.
Well, c'est la vie, he told himself as he settled back down beside the sixteen year-old assistant. I'm sure fate decreed that Ted and Lars and Angus didn't get in her panties the first night. She's meant for me - it's obvious. After all, I need some experience with her age group - not just the middle-aged females Sabina sees fit to admit to Serendipity. I'd be lax in my scientific duty if I passed up a chance like this!
"Thanks, Dr. Ivanoff," April murmured politely as he handed her the frosty beer can, still too timid to raise her eyes to his handsome face.
She couldn't believe that he was talking to her so openly about forbidden topics, especially when she remembered her mother's infatuation with his book. Yet although it embarrassed her to have a conversation like this with a male - even if he was a medical and psychiatric doctor - she was grateful that he was taking such a fatherly interest in her when he had so many important things to attend to.
"I think, April my dear, that what you need is a few special therapy sessions. That way you'll be able to deal with the patients better, too, because you'll understand what our aims are here at Serendipity Scientific Health Spa."
"Gee, Dr. Ivanoff, I sure do feel like I could use a little help right now," the brunette smiled shyly, fidgeting with, her indecently short pink skirt again.
Gosh, I wish he'd stop looking at my legs - it's not my fault I got the wrong size uniform, she thought wretchedly.
Stanislaus smiled, a lickerish leer which twisted his mouth and sent sparks shooting from his walnut-brown eyes. Pulling a small leather appointment book from his jacket pocket, he pretended to study it thoughtfully.
"What luck! I see Mrs. Unwin's appointment's been canceled because she's gone on a mountain climbing excursion with Angus Hughes-Simpton. What about beginning the therapy sessions right now, my dear? Then you can start in on the job tomorrow morning in good spirits."
April nodded, since there seemed no polite alternative, but she felt very awkward indeed. Even though she was convinced that she was a sex-obsessed nymphomaniac and in need of psychiatric guidance, she felt a certain leeriness at the idea of baring her soul to anyone, even such a sympathetic man as the good-looking professor. Would he make her lie down on the couch like a crazy person? Show her weird inkblots like that pimply graduate student had when he was doing his thesis and had used the Evanston High junior class as his guinea pigs? Or maybe ask her to tell him her dreams, most of which she couldn't remember at all?
"J-just what am I supposed to do, anyway?" she asked, more to delay the "therapy" than because she was curious, for she knew from the material her mother had given her to read that she was employed in the capacity of a sort of Candy-striper and all-around Girl Friday.
"Oh, you're a sort of Candy-striper - an all-around Girl Friday," the doctor quoted his own publicity brochure. "Helping Sabina with the filing system, making the patients feel at home by encouraging them to join in our various activities, that sort of thing. For example, you might ask Mr. Whatnough to join you for a game of tennis - he tends to stay by himself reading too much. Or perhaps give Mrs. Unwin a massage when she gets in one of her moods."
The thought of this curvaceous teen-ager stroking the ripely mature body of Mrs. Unwin - a wealthy Westport socialite who was the spa's most attractive female guest at the moment - sent Stanislas Ivanoff's semi-hardened phallus lurching into full erection. There were few spectacles that gave him more pleasure than that of two voluptuous females together, and it was a source of irritation to him that his girl friend, Sabina, detested all members of her own sex.
"But no need to discuss that now," he said hastily, easing his arm onto the adolescent's shoulder as he took a neat swallow of bourbon. "We're going to talk about your personal problems, remember?"
"Yes, sir." April stared at the modern painting on the wall directly across from her again; it reminded her of those inkblots.
"Why don't you just lie down and get comfortable ..."
The expensive leather couch was so soft that the Midwestern schoolgirl felt as though she were sinking down into a marshmallow cloud. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling much more at ease now that she didn't have to worry about what to do with her hands or where to focus her eyes. Feather-light hands were soothing her stiff shoulder muscles as she lay with her face buried in the sofa cushions, making her feel as relaxed as though she were languishing in the sunshine of a deserted beach.
"Uummmmmmm," she sighed contentedly.
"This," murmured the doctor, "is the first step in my special therapy sessions. Nothing like a good massage to loosen up the knotted muscles and liberate the innermost thoughts. The physical and the spiritual planes are merely two interacting notes in the same chord, you know: both have to function perfectly or the music's out of tune."
Since the suburban schoolgirl had taken piano lessons for many years, she understood the analogy. Actually, however, it didn't much matter what he was saying - it was the velvet-smooth quality of his mesmerizing voice that really mattered, and the subtle touch of his magical fingertips on her tensed figure.
Maybe I shouldn't have drunk all that Olde Frothing Slosh, her mind reverberated dizzily. Not with a hangover and not eating and all ... But I don't care! This is making me feel too good to worry about anything!
Fragmented images, remembered emotions, flashed through the disoriented adolescent's overwhelmed brain. All the loneliness and pressure to live up to the expectations of the incrowd; the depressing odor of moth balls and decay which permeated her mother's book and antique glutted house; the disinfectant stink of the high school washroom where she'd huddled in the toilet stall and listened to her classmates gossip about her relations with Murray Watson the Basketball Hero and her improbably high College Board scores. It was all long ago and in another world to which she never wished to return now that she'd at last found someone who understood and cared about her.
"Ohhhhhh, Dr. Ivanoff!"
The forty-one year old's potent male member gave a responsive spasm of hungry impatience at his young patient's heartfelt mewl of submission. From the first moment he'd caught sight of the photographs which Mrs. Eugenia Maye had, for reasons best known only to herself and God, attached to her only daughter's application form, the psychologist had been fantasizing about a moment such as this.
He thought about those snapshots now as he intensified the pressure of his massage and inched toward the sensitive mounds of her pert, girlish buttocks. One had showed her in a white choir girl robe silhouetted against a backdrop of the local Episcopalian church; the other, which revealed a good deal more of her charms, had been taken beside a barbecue grill at the Indiana Dunes State Park. In the latter photo, she'd been clad in a two-piece bathing suit whose modest cut failed to disguise her youthfully ripened figure. One slim hand held a skewered hot dog over the open fire, and the other was lifting a mustard-dripping frankfurter toward her saucily pursed lips.
"What you need, my dear girl," he murmured, gratified to hear that his voice betrayed none of his fierce passion, "is a few lessons in TRUE sexuality. Not from an immature caitiff like Ted Kingsland -from a real man who cares about your mental and physical welfare."
"Oh, I wish you wouldn't talk about Ted!" April exclaimed. "I never want to think about that ugliness again!"
"As Ruskin once said, 'Real ugliness in either sex means always some kind of hardness of heart or vulgarity of education'. I'm very much afraid our friend Ted is afflicted on both these counts - he comes from an impoverished family and has grown cynical in trying to hide the fact." The middle-aged scientist paused, silently congratulating himself on remembering his quotations despite the urgent throbbing of his elongated member. "But tolerance is a virtue worth cultivating. You must forgive Ted if he acted rude -but you must admit that the things you did weren't ugly!"
"B-but ... but I ... " April stammered. The man's hands gently kneading her sensitive ass-cheeks were making her feel extremely peculiar, but she knew that he was doing something wise and therapeutic so she didn't like to protest. Her voice trailed off as Ivanoff's confident tones interrupted her.
"Every part of the body is beautiful," he asserted. "It's a wonderful machine made for giving and receiving pleasure, and what I try to do here at Serendipity is re-educate people to appreciate this, to forget the hang-ups which make their life a hell instead of the heaven it was meant to be."
A nagging voice at the back of April's brain warned her that the older man's hands were moving toward the intimate parts of her body, but she felt so warm and contented and overwhelmed by his flood of romantic words that she ignored the feelings of trepidation. After all, he wasn't doing anything but giving her a massage, and she had all her clothes on.
"It's a crime that society has come to think of the naked body as shameful and dirty," he continued, working his hands toward the split between the young girl's well-rounded ass-cheeks as he spoke. "I'm afraid you've been contaminated by your environment, April, and I want to exorcise you of Puritanical poison before it's too late."
Although the professor's sermon was a little over the sixteen year old's head, she admired the intelligent, inspirational sound of his words. Thank goodness Dr. Ivanoff's therapy consisted of listening rather than talking, for she felt dull and inconsequential in comparison to the European-born intellectual.
"I - I guess you're right, Dr. Ivanoff," she said in a humble voice. "I s'pose I-ooohhhhh!"
As the man's skillful fingers abruptly grazed against the primrose-patterned crotchband of the teen-ager's panties, her low murmur exploded into an involuntary yelp. It felt as though red-hot arrows of erotic sensation were catapulting through each and every inch of her quivering figure, and the sensation was so mind-dazzling that she failed to notice at first that the man's other hand was easing down her protective underpants.
"Oh, please stop, Dr. Ivanoff!" she quavered when she realized that he was not only removing her panties, but also unzipping her tight pink uniform. "I - I wish you wouldn't d-do that!"
"Part of the therapy, my dear! You must realize that there's nothing more alarming about my touching your genitals than if I were a dentist touching your teeth, or a hair-dresser arranging your pretty hair. It's high time you got over these ridiculous inhibitions!"
The metallic sound of her zipper being undone echoed like a crack of thunder in April Maye's ears, and then cool, air-conditioned air wafted over her body as she felt the garment being tugged down over her bare legs. In an instant her panties were following suit, leaving her absolutely naked on the leather examining room couch. Frantic warning signals flashed inside her brain, but her thoughts were whirling like an out-of-control carrousel and she was incapable of deciding just what the fatherly professor was trying to prove, or why she wasn't vigorously protesting this indecency.
"Relax, April, relax!" instructed the health spa director. "Why are you all tense again? What's wrong with me bringing pleasure to your beautiful young body? Tell me one reason why it's wrong!"
Why is it wrong, after all? the confused adolescent's mind swirled. What's "wrong" mean, anyway? He wants to help you, and he thinks you're beautiful. What can be the matter with that?
A weak, fluttery feeling was rising from the pit of the young girl's excitement-churning belly and spreading out to each nerve ending in her naked body as the doctor commenced a maddening manipulation of her sensitive pussy lips. Already she was damp with desire between her legs, but now copious trickles of feminine juices began oozing out onto the older man's invading fingers and the sparse curls of her dark-haired pubic "vee". Somehow, the impossible lewdity of the situation aroused her more than it shamed her.
What's happening to me? she shivered. It's just like those other times when Ted and Murray made me feel so strange. But this is supposed to be therapy! Oh, I sure hope Dr. Ivanoff doesn't guess how I'm feeling!
One of the gray-haired man's hands had slithered up over April's slender torso to caress her breasts, while the other was teasing at her clitoris in a way that thrilled her even more than Ted's inserted finger had the night before. With every passing second April's unbidden erotic bliss increased, and she gave up questioning what was happening.
I'm growing up! she told herself, quivering in wanton pleasure as electrical waves of pure physical pleasure surged through her naked body like liquid lightning. He's teaching me to be a real woman, and he's doing it because he cares about me, not just to use my body like that nasty Ted Kingsland. This is REAL! It's the first thing that's ever happened to me that truly matters!
"Your body is a perfect creation of nature!" Stanislas Ivanoff's strangled, lust-distorted tone was oddly incongruous with his flowery phrases. "A miniature Venus! Or, better, an Aphrodite! A goddess of love arising from the ocean of childhood!"
April, who'd forgotten her Greek Mythology the day after the examination, didn't know what the man above her was talking about, nor did she much care. Her fire-filled vagina was the only reality that mattered to her now, and her only cogent thoughts were of what was going to happen next.
Will he try to make love to me - is that part of the therapy? If he wants to, will I let him? Why not ...
A triumphant surge of freedom washed over her young body as she rejected all the tenaciously clinging vestiges of her upbringing and cast herself into the seething sea of adult sexuality. For the first time in her sixteen years, she no longer cared what anyone else thought about her, and the idea of being independent to enjoy what she wished was intoxicatingly liberating.
"Uummmmmm ... aaahhhhh ... uuuhhhhhh ..."
Her obscene chants of uninhibited ecstasy echoed through the luxurious examining room and sent the newly awakened adolescent's excitement soaring to a fever pitch of desire. The humiliation and wretched sense of defilement she'd endured after her two earlier sexual experiments were completely erased from her lust-clouded brain, and the few vague wisps of doubt which teased at the back of her mind were effectively blocked out by the more intense emotions of flagrant self-indulgence.
"Ooohhhh, Dr. Ivanoff! I f-feel so f-funny!"
"But it's good, isn't it? It makes you happy?"
"Ooohhhhhh, yes! Maybe I'm wicked, but I feel so-so alive!"
"That's the spirit! But, of course, you're not wicked - you're a delightfully sensual female!"
As he spoke, Stanislas was ripping down the zipper of his Harris tweed pants. Little April's eloquent whimpers were more than he could stand, and if he didn't get inside her hungry virgin pussy soon he'd spoil his expensive suit and have to do some quick explaining to Sabina.
"I think," he muttered thickly as he removed his fluid-drenched middle finger from her cuntal depths, "that you're advanced enough for the final therapy already!"
April mewled in frustration as the pleasure-giving digit slipped with a lewd sluicing sound from her spasmodically quivering vagina. "Ooohhh, p-please don't stop!" she pleaded, before noticing that he was shedding his trousers with impatient haste. "Ooooohhhhhhhhh," her voice rang out again, louder this time and with a shrill hint of fear as she glimpsed the massive flesh cudgel which jutted from the mature man's groin like a purplish-red tree-trunk.
"Don't be afraid," murmured Ivanoff as the girl's fear-contorted face, which had twisted around to look at him when he removed his pussy-impaling middle finger, buried back into the sofa cushions. "The male body is just as beautiful as the female form, you know. I'm not going to hurt you - I'm going to teach you how magnificent love should be!"
Placing his strong hands around the schoolgirl's lithe body, the doctor rolled her over so that her fear-widened eyes were staring at him and her proud young breasts were pointing toward the ceiling in taut-nippled splendor. God, she was magnificent! So young ... so fresh ... so innocent of the joy she would soon be experiencing from his turgid male thickness!
"No, Dr. Ivanoff!" April hissed in fear as she gaped at his oversized erection. It was much bigger than Ted's penis - no longer perhaps, but far, far thicker. "I - I'm scared! I - I don't think I w-want any more therapy! PLEASE! It's too big!"
The forty-one year old scientist was well aware that his phallus was larger than normal, for it had inspired this same fearful reaction in women far more worldly-wise than young April Maye. His massive member was, he sometimes suspected, the sole reason Sabina stayed with him. While she might treat him with bossy sarcasm during the day, she was a willing slave beneath his powerful potency at night.
"I'll be gentle, my dear," he turned his thoughts from his mistress back to the vulnerable virgin spread out on his examining room couch. "Maybe it'll hurt a bit at first, but soon you'll love it! Just wait and see!"
"Noooooo," whimpered the sixteen year old. "Ohhhhh, noooooo." Yet despite her low protests, she made no genuine effort to resist Dr. Ivanoff even when he took the heavy-veined flesh pole in one hand and positioned it menacingly above her curl-fringed vagina.
"You can trust me, April. You should know that," the scientist assured her, but the raw animal hunger glinting from his dark, thick-browed eyes contradicted his words.
Suddenly the schoolgirl began to cry, harsh gasping sobs of fear which rang out even louder as the professor's massive hardness pulsed against her cringing thigh. Although she hated herself for reacting so immaturely, there was nothing she could do to stem the flood of fearful tears.
Oh, Christ, now she's crying! the sex-frenzied man deplored. And I thought she was responding so well to the therapy! Well, it's just too bad. I can't stop now, no matter how hysterical she gets. Thank God my examining room's soundproof!
Without wasting any more time on preliminaries - Sabina would be terminating her oral-genital therapy session with Mr. Whatnough any minute now, and growing suspicious about the length of his Staff Morale Conference with young Miss Maye - the nefarious health spa director gripped the teen-ager's soft-fleshed thighs and wrenched them apart. She resisted weakly, but in a short minute yielded to the vice-like pressure of the stronger male's insistent fingers.
"Oh, please! Don't hurt me ... " she whimpered. "P-p-pi-please!"
If only he'd kiss my pussy, like Ted did, her fear-stunned mind wailed. I'd like to learn to be a real woman and all, but this is too much! I'm not ready - it'll kill me! Why on earth is he doing it to me?
"Just relax!" grunted the sex-driven doctor. "Loosen up - it'll hurt less that way!"
In the next instant, a wave of blackness swam before the tearful teen-ager's blue eyes as the blunt tip of the middle-aged male's rampant penis nudged at the delicate tissues of her virginal vagina. He flicked his hips forward, digging his hands under the half-moons of her buttocks to lever her up and facilitate his entry, but April's fear-cringing vagina was simply too small for his bulbous cockhead.
"Damn!" he groaned. "Gotta fuck you!"
With every ounce of energy in his large-boned body, the man thrust forward again. This time, as April wailed in agonized fear and pain, his throbbing thickness burst into the tiny cuntal orifice and embedded several inches of red-hot flesh inside the never-before-entered passage.
"Ahhhhhh! What a sweet, tight little cunt you've got!" gloated the lust-demented scientist. "Now just relax! Stan's gonna show you what fucking's all about!"
The traumatized teen-ager scarcely heard her vanquisher's victory cry, for a thunderous hammering was thudding behind her temples as wave after wave of shattering pain crashed over her helpless loins. Almost as hard to accept as the physical anguish was the realization that the man she'd idealized and thought of as a kindly father had lied to her. How could anyone in their right mind say that love-making only hurt a little bit? That it was the most wonderful thing in the world?
The naked schoolgirl's pitiful pleas echoed through her ears as though she were inside a vacuum or at the bottom of a deep, dark pit. Then, as the punishing penis plunged another painful inch into her straining cuntal channel to press against the thin membrane which protected the purity of her girlhood, she fell silent, scarcely daring to breathe for fear of increasing the fiery agony.
"Now, now!" mumbled the lust-crazed scientist. "My first virgin!"
The incredible snugness of the young student aide's untried vagina, combined with the ego-inflating sense of power engendered by deflowering his first untouched female, had transformed the normally mild-mannered amoralist into a bestial savage. Although he'd initially intended to penetrate the innocent girl as painlessly as possible, the fingers on her buttocks which had meant to ease his first entry were now mindlessly digging into the satin-smooth pliancy of her nether cheeks like an eagle's talons grasping its prey. Even when he felt warm droplets of blood oozing against his fingernails, he failed to come to his senses.
What I've missed all these years! he thought as he pressured without thought of pain or injury against the resisting maidenhead. Fragmented images of his youth in a small eastern European village flickered before his dazzled eyes as he gaped blindly at April Maye's girlish breasts and quivering white belly. Those tempting Slavic maidens of his adolescence had been rounder of hip and fuller of bosom than this lithe American Lolita, but their curvaceous charms had never been, displayed save beneath modest coarse cotton frocks. How vividly he recalled those long-ago nights of frustration on dark farm lanes, with the scent of ripe wheat in his nostrils and the song of the nightingale mockingly reverberating in his lust-tortured soul. Many of the girls, having seen their older sisters and mothers brutally raped by foreign soldiers, would become hysterical if one so much as tried to kiss them in the moonlight.
When he'd arrived in New York to live with his uncle's family and attend medical school, all the girls he'd met were far more experienced than he. His flaxen-haired cousin, Sabina, had seduced him when she was a precocious fourteen year old, performing fellatio on him for the first time in his twenty-four years. Almost twenty years later, she was still gloating about this.
But now I'm doing it! Stanislas Ivanoff forced the haunting memories from his mind. I'm fucking a nubile nymph before any other male gets a chance!
"Oh yyyeeeeaaaahhhhh!" he bellowed, and rammed his muscular torso against the weeping victim with vindictive ferocity.
The pain which seared through April's tortured body as her hymen was cruelly split to shreds was so overpowering that she didn't have the strength to scream out her agony. Scalding flames of white-hot fire raced from her ravished vagina to every last nerve-ending in her shuddering body, and she was certain that she was dying. Never in her life had she imagined such torture could exist; it was a thousand times worse than the time she'd fallen from her ten-speed British bicycle, or the day when a huge German shepherd had sunk its fangs into her leg while she tried to pet its puppies.
A thin trickle of warm, scarlet blood dribbled over her milk-white thighs, and as April watched it pool on the thousand-dollar leather sofa, screams burst from her fear-constricted throat. She was so naive that she didn't realize the blood was a normal condition.
He's torn me to shreds down there, her tortured mind screamed. I'll never be able to walk again! How could he do this to me? Oh, I hate men - every single one of them! They're nothing but animals!
Stanislas, too, observed the crimson spots of virginal blood, but rather than being moved to repentance, he experienced an onslaught of wildly erotic sublimation. Nothing, not the wisely-invested wealth he'd amassed in the course of his rather unorthodox medical career, nor his silver Monte-Carlo Landau Chevrolet, nor even his Junoesque cousin/mistress, had afforded him the satisfaction that he felt at this moment. What power he had! What a man he was!
Grunting aloud like a primitive Viking raping a plundered maiden, he drove his abnormally thick cudgel into his pain-wracked employee without giving her an instant to adjust to the enormous girth of his lust-driven shaft. He sluiced in and out of her tight-walled channel as untold generations of conquering males had done to their helplessly harpooned love-slaves, relishing the age-old rhythm of fucking as he had never done before. In his selfish delight, he never paused to consider that the girl beneath him was whimpering in agony rather than ecstasy.
Rocking vibrations of excruciating agony swept through the deflowered virgin's hapless body as the panting, groaning male monster on top of her rammed his bulbous rod of pain-inflicting flesh into her lacerated cuntal channel. The torture continued for a nightmarish eternity as she writhed and sobbed beneath the demon-driven rigidity and shrank away from his sadistically pinching hands which dug into her breasts, her belly, her spasmodically quaking thighs.
Then, just as April felt herself slipping into the blissful sanctuary of unconsciousness, a strange and unexpected sensation started teasing at her tormented loins. To her astonished relief, her body seemed to be adjusting itself to the man's brutal thrusts, and the unbearable agony was slowly but surely being canceled out by throbbing waves of pleasure-pain. Deep within her ravished pussy, an odd chord of masochistic excitation began to pulsate.
"Ohhh!" she gasped as the horror faded and was replaced by a wild, wanton yearning. "It IS good ... you weren't just tricking me! Ooohhhhhh!"
With Murray Watson, her high school steady, she'd experienced momentary titillation; Ted Kingsland had, less than twenty-four hours before, awakened hitherto unknown reserves of ardent lust. The sensations racing through every inch of her passion-heated flesh now were, however, entirely different and far more stimulating. The muscles and nerves in her inexperienced vagina, already in a condition of semi-arousal from the doctor's initial manual manipulations, quickly moistened and eagerly embraced the invading flesh cudgel.
"Oh! Ohhhhhh! I'm going crazy! Ahhhhhhhhh!"
Ivanoff, who'd ignored the inexperienced girl's tormented pleas for mercy, heard her excited love-cries with an intoxicating clarity. His devil-driven loins crashed down harder than ever against her girlishly slender body, his hands gripping her tender breasts for support as he rocketed his rampant male weapon to the hilt inside her snug-clinging vagina. Never in her life would she forget him, for he'd forcefully jolted her from the threshold of uncertain pubescence into full feminine sensuality. For the rest of her years, she'd think of his conquering cock whenever other men caressed her voluptuous loins; and no man would ever satisfy her as he was doing this first, magical time.
"Ooooohhh! Aaaaahhh! AAoohhhh!" moaned the young girl, and her seducer rammed into her with accelerated frenzy.
I wonder what man was the first to awaken Sabina? he thought through the blood-red clouds of his passion. And does she still remember that long-ago lover when I'm throbbing inside her?
Infuriated and excited by the very idea, the virile professor pounded his potent penis into the wriggling teenager's clinging cuntal channel so deeply that his blood-engorged testicles danced against the smooth mounds of her upraised ass-cheeks. Already he could feel the first tingling pressure of impatient sperm building in his jouncing balls, and although he would have liked to continue fucking into the schoolgirl for hours until she was nothing but a screaming mass of uncontrolled sexuality, he knew he could not hold back his powerful flood of semen much longer. Her immature vagina was convulsing so tightly around his turgid thickness that he simply could not bear the exquisite pleasure-pain for very much longer.
By now, although her newly ravished pussy was still stretched and burning, April had almost forgotten the inhuman agony of the doctor's initial entry. Pure pleasure sang through her veins, drowning out the memory of suffering and building toward a cataclysmic crescendo deep inside her crazily churning belly.
"So goooooodddd!" she gasped out in a strange, lust-distorted voice which she did not recognize as her own. "Oh, don't stop, Dr. Ivanoff! Don't ever, ever stop! Please!"
Much as the middle-aged man would have liked to comply with the sensuous teen-ager's impassioned plea, there was no possible way to delay his on-rushing orgasm. Yet before his volcanic release swept over him, he was determined to make his triumph complete by sending the girl spinning into the ultimate ecstasy of release. All his efforts would have been wasted if he couldn't be the first man to transform her into a mindless mass "of electrified erotic sensation.
"Aaaaahhhhhh!" he groaned. "Now! I'm there! Cumming in your virgin cunt! CCCUMMMMIINNGGG!"
As he bellowed out his passion, the desire-demented doctor thrust his hand down between their perspiration-slickened bodies and began teasing at young April's taut little clitoral nerve center with practiced expertise. His jack-hammering cock surged into her one last, stupendous time, a soul-shattering stroke that slammed against the girl's sensitive cervix. Then, as his body tensed and jerked, and the floods of life-giving seed seethed down through his deep-embedded shaft, Ivanoff was rewarded for his efforts by the schoolgirl's piercing shrieks of uninhibited ecstasy.
The love cries of the gray-haired professor and his teen-aged employee echoed through the examining room in a lewd chorus of obscene lust, their spasming bodies rocked and bucked together on the leather couch as jet after jet of scalding male sperm splashed into the eagerly milking depths of the deflowered virgin's convulsing cunt, and she fell into a swooning state of dizzy unreality where there was nothing save pure physical bliss and the wanton exultation of total release.
"Sssoooo gggoooooddddd ... oohhh, sooo gggooooooddd ... ahhhh haaaahhhhhh ..." April babbled incoherently as waves of indescribable delight lifted her far away from her actual surroundings into a rainbow-hued universe of undistilled elation. "MMMmmmmmhhhhhhhhh ..."
After a seeming eternity, April fell silent and the gasping professor above her began to breathe more regularly as his deflating cock slipped from her sperm-sodden vagina. There was a lewd, wet pop as the useless penis withdrew, followed by a helpless sigh of total satiation from the young girl.
For a moment she was afraid to open her eyes - what if Dr. Ivanoff were sneering at her in the hateful way Ted Kingsland had? April couldn't bear to have the magic of her first love-making destroyed by crude, callous words and uncaring eyes.
"Well, April, how do you like being a woman?" the doctor's kindly voice asked.
The teen-ager's flushed face lifted from the sofa cushions, and a new, mature smile spread over her pretty features as she opened her eyes to gaze at the affectionately beaming man. Then, purring and stretching like a contented kitten, she let her pleasure-glazed blue eyes play over the sperm and blood stained contours of her newly awakened body.
I'll never be the same again - I can never undo what happened here this afternoon, she mused. The merest hint of a shadow passed over her smooth forehead as the magnitude of the deed occurred to her. No power on earth could restore her innocence and purity ... her girlhood dream of giving herself body and soul to the man she eventually married would never be a reality ...
Tossing her tousled brown curls, the teen-ager pushed away the fragments of disturbing thoughts and reached up her face to kiss the doctor.
"I feel marvelous," she bubbled. "Screwing's the most wonderful thing in the world - you were right, Dr. Ivanoff! I feel like a new person!"
The professor returned her spontaneous kiss, then glanced rather nervously at his wrist watch.
"I'm glad the therapy was successful, my dear," he started pulling on his Harris tweed trousers. "We'll continue it at your next Staff Morale Conference, three days from now."
"Okay, Dr. Ivanoff." April's blue eyes flashed with licentious excitement as she wondered what the next session held in store for her sensuous young body. "I - I'm sure looking forward to that!"
"And in the meantime," said the doctor, straightening his tie, "I recommend practice sessions with the guests or Lars and Ted and Angus. Whenever you feel like it ... " I can afford to be generous, now that I've gotten what I wanted, he thought, and it'll keep Sabina from being suspicious. "Nothing like a healthy sex life for a growing girl!"
When April Maye walked out of the examining room into the late afternoon sunshine, she was half expecting to find that the world looked different than it had before. She herself felt so completely changed that it was inconceivable that the universe would not mirror this transformation in some way.
Yet nothing save the angle of the sun had altered; everything else was exactly as it had been when she was still a pure young virgin. Same buildings, same trees and grass in the mall, same squirrels and birds, same sounds of laughter drifting from the tennis courts ...
For some unaccountable reason, the sixteen year old's euphoria began fading into a weary sort of depression. It must be because I haven't eaten all day, she assured herself, unwilling to accept that perhaps her defloration was not the 100% happy event she'd thought while still in the examining room. Carefully keeping her mind blank, she started across the grass toward her room in the opposite building.
Dr. Stanislas Ivanoff raised the shades of her examining room window to watch the teen-ager's pert buttocks wriggling across the courtyard. What a delightful afternoon it had been! Sabina would be furious if she found out, but it had been more than worth that risk.
'Gather the rosebuds while ye may ...' "he muttered, trying not to think about the blood and sperm stains on the leather couch. "Or perhaps Herrick should have said, 'Harvest the cherries while ye may ...'."
CHAPTER SIX
One rainy July morning, while April Maye was locked in Dr. Ivanoff's examining room enjoying her sixth Staff Morale Conference, the professor's mistress's suspicions reached the point where she could no longer deny their validity. The voluptuous blonde stood in front of her mirror, scrutinizing her face for lines, her golden hair for strands of gray, her proud breasts for signs of sagging. Despite the fact that her ruthless self-examination disclosed no symptoms whatsoever of encroaching old age, jealousy and bitterness still burned in the woman's heart.
Without admitting what she was intending to do, Sabina took her set of master keys and moved stealthily into the building where April Maye's bedroom was located. No one saw her go in - everyone was engaged in therapy sessions, or in the indoor sports center. Breathing more quickly than usual, the statuesque blonde pushed open the younger girl's bedroom door.
Mrs. Maye had a phobia about cleanliness, and her daughter had been taught to be almost unnaturally tidy. Instead of the usual adolescent clutter of dirty clothes and cosmetics spread over the floor and dressers, she found the place so immaculate as to look uninhabited. Even the closet was spotless, with nothing more interesting than a row of neatly pressed blouses for the spying woman to contemplate. The bedside drawer yielded a writing tablet and pen, three fifty-dollar bills, and a letter from the girl's mother cautioning her to watch her diet and try to convince Dr. Ivanoff that meat-eating was a sin unworthy of a fine human being like himself.
"Hhmmff!" Sabina sniffed scornfully.
She felt annoyed with herself for having been so childish as to snoop in April's bedroom for - she didn't even quite know what for. Evidence of her affair with Stanislas, or perhaps some secret she could use against the pretty adolescent. Frowning in frustration, she started toward the door, then suddenly stopped as a new idea occurred to her.
As a teenager, Sabina had kept a diary hidden under her mattress.
Sure enough, a red spiral notebook fell out from underneath the bedclothes. Ignoring the huge black letters on the cover which read: PRIVATE! TOUCH AT YOUR OWN RISK! she eagerly opened to the first entry.
"This is the first time I am keeping a diary," Sabina read, "for this is the first time in my life that I feel exciting and important things are happening to me. I never want to forget anything that happens to me this wonderful summer!!!"
Good God! thought the thirty year old blonde, a superior scowl furrowing her brow, just the sort of self-important nonsense you'd expect from a silly thing like her. She's just the type who'd use peacock blue ink and too many exclamation marks and draw little circles and hearts over her "i's".
Ignoring the nagging realization that, trite as April Maye's private scribblings might be, the girl was a luscious physical specimen of female seductivity, Sabina leafed through the half-filled notebook. After only a few seconds her high-cheekboned face grew black with fury, and her knuckles turned bone-white as she clutched at the diary.
"Today I am a woman! I am too tired to write it all down, but how WONDERFUL it felt with Dr. Ivanoff's thing inside my pussy. This had been the most important day of my life!!!"
That was exactly what Sabina had been 99% sure was going on for the past few weeks; she felt no surprise, only an avid anger. Stanislas knew that she hated it when he got himself involved with young girls! He had explicitly promised that this female student aide was for the sexual satisfaction of the male assistants, otherwise she would never have agreed to his hiring the Maye girl.
"The liar!" she fumed. "So I'm not good enough for him, after all I've done to help him?! He'd never have made his millions or set up this place without me behind him - he's far too absent-minded and foolish. Next thing I know the horny old goat'll be getting that silly schoolgirl pregnant, and he's just crazy enough to marry her. Then I'll lose my chance for the money!"
For years now - it astonished her whenever she realized how many years - the strong-willed blonde had managed her cousin's life for him and kept him away from the snares of fortune seeking females. She'd arranged publicity for his books, set up lucrative lecture tours, and dug up suitable clients who were more than willing to pay through their teeth for his confidential and unorthodox treatments. Not only had she written his speeches and edited his books, but she'd skillfully maneuvered him into accepting her opinions while believing they were his own inspired ideas.
"And this is the thanks I get!" she muttered. "After my own father put him through medical school - after I transformed him from a mediocre psychologist practicing in a dingy small town to a world-known celebrity! Sacrificed my own life for his! Oh, it's too much! Just too much to bear!"
Then Sabina did something she despised in others: she began to weep. Silent, shoulder-shaking sobs wracked her statuesque body as she forced herself to own up to the deepest reasons for her wrathful despair. Not only did she lust for Stanislas's money but, far more importantly, she was obsessed with the man himself. No one else she had ever met could still the raging fires of lust that burned in her sensuous loins, and though he was a child as far as common sense was concerned, he was more of a man than she'd dreamed possible when he was naked with his magnificent member poised above her hungry pussy.
Only her cousin could be as insatiable as she was herself, and she had understood this over-sexed streak in their personalities from the first time she'd seduced him, although she'd been only fourteen at the time.
"And I had a hell of a lot more sense than this April slut does at sixteen-going-on-seventeen!" Sabina remarked to herself. She was still turning over the pages of the diary, but was too wrapped up in her memories to read the turquoise-blue and flamingo-pink entries.
Sabina had not only been unusually quick at her school work, but had had a knack for bewitching her male professors into granting her unprecedented favors. Thus she graduated from college when she was only twenty, the same spring that Stanislas earned his psychologist's degree. Instead of becoming an elementary school teacher, going to New York to be a secretary or copyreader, or getting married like the rest of her classmates, she installed herself as her cousin's secretary-receptionist-research assistant. And she'd initiated the bizarre, but satisfying lifestyle which had now reached its peak of perfection in the luxurious isolation of the profit-yielding Serendipity Scientific Health Spa.
Here in the heart of the Allegheny Mountains they had everything they needed for an incomparable existence: plenty of sex-starved patients to satisfy their unnatural erotic appetites, money flowing in so fast they'd had to hire an additional investment advisor, and seclusion from suspicious colleagues who envied Ivanoff's success. Even the climate was perfect!
And now Stanislas had sabotaged their paradise by involving himself with a stupid teenager who would probably confess everything to her dangerously hysterical parent once she returned to Evanston, Illinois - if she didn't get pregnant. Who knew what she'd already written to her silly girlfriends? If it were anything like the contents of this diary they were as good as out of business already!
Shuddering, the irate blonde turned her full attention to the teenager's diary. The more that she contemplated this situation, the worse it seemed, and she wanted to know exactly how much this April girl had guessed or been told about the secret operations of the spa.
"June 27: Dear Diary, I feel very sad tonight, but I don't know why. Like always my Staff Morale Conference was super - everything always seems fine when I'm with Dr. Ivanoff. Today he said something so splendid: "The plainer the dress, the greater beauty does lustre appear." That was because I had on my shabby old faded cutoffs and a baggy tee-shirt. But when I am not having therapy I don't feel very happy lots of the time. I keep thinking about things that are unhealthy and I mean to talk to Dr. Ivanoff about them but I forget everything else when he's making me happy with his big thing."
"Oh, dear!" Sabina muttered. She quickly turned to the next entry.
"June 29: Dear Diary, I keep thinking about what Mrs. Unwin said to me this morning. Even if she was taking drugs like Lars said when he came in and heard the end of what she was saying, it was still really weird. Can Sabina really be Dr. Ivanoff's lover? I don't believe it! And why did Mrs. Unwin say that her husband had forced her to be here at the spa against her will if it isn't true? It's a dumb sort of lie to make up. And I think I can believe that Angus Hughes-Simpton raped her on their mountain climbing expedition. Every time I look at his nasty beady eyes I get the creeps.
What else is bugging me is that Lars treats me so coldly. I'd really like to be friends with him, and he turns me on, too - but of course Dr. Ivanoff said that I should only feel those feelings in therapy sessions, so I mustn't think about that. But why doesn't he like me, I wonder? I know why Ted's mad at me - 'cause I won't f- him. But who cares about him?
"Something else that is making me uptight is that my period is two weeks late. Dr. Ivanoff said that he sent away for birth control pills, but they haven't come yet. I didn't tell him about my period being late yet, but maybe I better tomorrow at my Staff Morale Conference. I don't know what I will do if I am pregnant, but I am not sorry about having made love with Dr. Ivanoff because now I am alive and can think for myself, and before I might as well have been dead. So I will accept whatever happens and try not to be scared."
Oh, no! Sabina nearly dropped the journal onto the floor in her horrified despair. Her very worst suspicions had actually come true! It's not fair! I'll make her have an abortion! she tried to calm herself. Christ, Stanislas will be sorry he did this to me. And this awful April girl will be even sorrier!
"April 30: Dear Diary, Today I got my period so I didn't say anything to Dr. Ivanoff. Not about anything. I didn't forget this time - I just didn't feel like saying anything. It was funny today - I liked him touching me, but not as much as before. I can't explain why because I don't know. But I know one thing: I really don't like Sabina very much. She keeps giving me funny looks at dinner and I can't even eat, I feel so weird. I have lost two pounds.
"Mrs. Unwin said a funny thing to me this morning - she said I should leave before it was too late. Too late for what? But mostly I am happier here than I am in Evanston, so I just smiled when she said that.
"I just read the last thing I wrote yesterday about thinking for myself and I think it is true, but it hurts more when you think about things. But maybe it's better to be alive and hurt than it is to be the way I used to be.
"Lars smiled at me today at dinner but he still doesn't talk to me, except to say hi and stuff like that. But this was the first time he smiled at me in ages so I feel happy in spite of everything else."
Well, thank God she's not pregnant, Sabina thought, but her face was still troubled. April didn't seem quite as stupid as she had presumed her to be - immature, certainly, but too inquisitive for comfort. Her hands shook slightly as she turned to the last entry in the teenager's diary.
"July 1: Dear Diary, Today I learned something that is too awful to write about the therapy sessions. I suppose I should have guessed it a long time ago 'cause that's what Dr. Ivanoff does when he gives me therapy, but it all seems dirty and sick all of a sudden. I don't know why. But I wish there was someone I could talk to about these things. I don't want to talk to Dr. Ivanoff, and besides, it's like I'm hypnotized when I'm with him, all I want to do is f-. I used to think I was crazy because of that but now I think everyone is like that and they just pretend not to be. I feel very confused, diary. I think sex is great, it makes me feel so good! But if that's all there is then I might as well be a dog or a cat or something. I thought Dr. Ivanoff really cared about me as a person but he is just screwing everyone and they are paying him to do it. It's all mixed-up and crazy!!! Or maybe it's me that's mixed-up. I don't like what's happening here - but I can't go back to Evanston and live that life again, either. Why is life so hard, I wonder?"
Sabina Ivanoff didn't waste time feeling sympathy for the troubled adolescent's plight. The girl knew entirely too much -she was a danger to them, and would have to be quickly and neatly eliminated. But how ... ?
The voluptuous blonde very carefully replaced the spiral notebook under the mattress and tiptoed from the room and out of the building. Plans whirled through her clever head as she hastened across Serendipity Scientific Health Spa's neatly landscaped lawns, past the indoor health center and the tennis courts toward the mens' dormitory. April's last entry had been written on July 1, and today was July 3, the girl's conference day. Presuming that she still didn't say anything about her doubts and suspicions to the professor - and she was willing to bet on this, considering the girl's lack of self-assurance and ingrained respect for her elders - there were three more days in which to do whatever was necessary to drive her away from Serendipity.
Sabina rapped hard on Ted Kingsland's door. She had already formulated a plan, one which she felt certain he would be glad to assist her with, for he was as bitter against the Maye girl as she was. Angus Hughes-Simpton could probably be enlisted as well - he was basically nothing more than a frustrated animal who thought only of ramming his perennially turgid penis into each and every warm female cunt which happened his way.
She'll be sorry! Sabina vowed as a rather hungover-looking Ted issued her into his room. She'll get what she deserves, and she'll be so turned-on by it that she won't dare say anything to outsiders. And that'll be the last I'll have to see of the little bitch!
"Good morning, Ted." She thrust her magnificently proportioned breasts forward and tilted her full hips to their most alluring angle. A little sensual incentive never hurt any worthy cause. "I hope I didn't disturb you, but I have an interesting plan to discuss with you ..."
Ted's sullen expression changed to one of lust as he gazed at his employee's mistress. Until now, she'd treated him as an unworthy underling, but now she stood on his doorstep posing like a whore.
"Come on in," he leered.
Despite the come-on smile she'd pasted on her lush red lips, Sabina felt no particular desire to touch the student who smiled and gestured her into his room. Yet she knew she'd soon be groveling with him on his unmade bed, and that she'd be feeling lust that would not be fulfilled. Only Stanislas could satisfy her, but in the course of the years she'd been with many males for reasons far less significant than her present objective.
I'll do anything to save the life I have with Stanislas! she vowed as she followed Ted into his room. Anything at all! I'll kill that little Maye bitch if I have to!
CHAPTER SEVEN
"You're crazy!" April declared into the telephone. "Absolutely crazy! Are you drunk or something, Lars?"
"I'm not drunk, but Angus was when he said they were going to get you tonight," the Danish boy sounded annoyed at not being believed, and also very worried. "I wish you'd listen to me, April! I think something funny's going to happen tonight. Don't go to the party - please!"
The half-naked teenager stamped her bare white foot in irritation. Lars had a lot of nerve; first he scarcely spoke to her for three weeks, and now he rang her up and thought he could boss her around. What was his problem, anyway?
"Of course I'm going to the party," she retorted. "I'm getting dressed right now, and I don't have time for stupid jokes like this."
"It's not a joke! I tell you I heard Angus say ... "
"Oh, Angus!" April interrupted rudely. Her irritation was heightened by the fact that when she'd answered the phone and heard the Danish student's voice, she'd hoped he was going to ask her for a date or something instead of saying these ridiculous things. "He's just a dope. Why do you bother to listen to anything he says, anyway, 'specially when he's drunk twenty cans of Olde Frothing Slosh like he did last night? Sure, maybe he said something about me, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't go out and have fun tonight!"
"But-"
"He's just jealous 'cause I never made love to him, the stupid slob! And all this stuff you're saying about a plot is crazy!"
"Will you listen to me, you stupid girl! I tell you-"
"And you're just jealous, too!" April slammed down the receiver.
For a long minute she stood looking at the silent telephone, anger and sadness mingling in her mind as she thought of the handsome Danish boy. Well, now she'd never get a chance to know him ... but if he were going to act stupid like that it was probably just as well ...
Pushing her own vague doubts and fears about the Health Spa to the farthest corner of her mind, the pretty brunette finished putting on her mini-skirt and ruffled halter top, applied a light touch of makeup, and made her way down to the hillside at the far end of the estate where the fireworks display, barbecue, and dance were to be held.
* * *
By the time the fireworks display began, the staff and guests of Serendipity Scientific Health Spa had consumed two dozen thick steaks, enough cans of Olde Frothing Slosh to fill two giant garbage containers, and several bottles of whiskey, vodka and bourbon. April, who was drinking vodka and orange juice, and who had so little appetite that she'd not done more than pick at her steak, was quite intoxicated. Unfortunately, as she gulped down screwdriver after screwdriver in an attempt to cheer herself up after the quarrel with Lars Mortensen, she only grew more depressed.
Ever since the night Ted Kingsland had treated her so crassly down by the manmade swimming hole, April had treated him with scornful indifference. Now, in a drunken effort to make the sullen Dane jealous, she allowed him to take her hand and lead her up a path to a pinnacle where they would have "a super view of the fireworks". She knew she was making a mistake, but no longer cared as she climbed up the pitch-black path beside him, clumsily splashing orange juice and vodka on her mini-skirt as she stumbled over rocks and tree roots.
So what!? Who cares!? her inebriated mind whirled senselessly. I'll show dumb old Lars I can take care of myself!
The sixteen year old was so confused by the unaccustomed amount of alcohol swimming through her bloodstream that she never heard the rustling sounds behind the bushes where Ted seated her, nor did she notice that the dark-haired UCLA football player was making peculiar gestures with his hands instead of looking toward the first red-gold star burst of the firework display. It was only when he suddenly lunged toward her and knocked her flat on the ground that she realized Lars Mortensen had been right, after all.
"Aaahhhhhh!" she shrieked. "What are you-"
Her cry died in her throat as the hulking figure of Angus Hughes-Simpton, the British student assistant, lurched from behind the shrubbery. To the petrified girl's intense horror, the brawny youth was completely naked save for his heavy leather boots, and in his hands he carried a length of rope.
"Go on, Angus!" a female voice shrilled as a second spray of artificial stars exploded into the sky. "Tie her up the way I told you to!"
Sabina Ivanoff stepped from the bushes behind Angus, and the expression of sadistic cruelty on her beautiful face terrified the intoxicated teenager almost as much as the immense flesh cudgel which protruded at a 90 degree angle from the English youth's hairy groin. Her mouth fell open as a scream rose in her throat, but before she could cry out Ted had roughly flipped her onto her stomach, ripped off her skimpy halter top, and fastened the ruffled garment tightly around her mouth.
"That's to shut you up while we teach you you're not better than anyone else!" he snarled, and then he, too, was yanking down his trousers to reveal the massive member which April remembered all too well.
Muffled, gagging noises choked from the terrified teenager's painfully trussed lips as she watched the two naked males bind her sandal-clad feet to two trees. Her legs were spread so far apart that the tendons in her firm-fleshed thighs ached dreadfully, and trying to strain against the tight-knotted ropes only made the agony worse. Angus, his round, acne-spotted face grinning like a mask of satanic lust, fastened her hands behind her back, and then the two males stood surveying their handiwork, massive members in hand.
April, stunned beyond comprehension, buried her face in the sandy soil beneath her face and clenched her tear-filled eyes shut. It must be a dreadful nightmare! It had to be! Things like this didn't happen in real life, not in the middle of a Fourth of July celebration!
"Good work, boys!" Sabina's ice-cold voice rang in the terrorized adolescent's ears. "Now, the little bitch is all yours! Show the little cock-teasing tramp what you think of her!"
"C'mon, Angus!" Ted growled, all his latent sadistic tendencies inflamed by the beautiful Sabina's vicious taunts. "Let's fuck the hell outta her!"
"I get to take her in the ass!" Angus was drooling with lust. "Sabina s-said I could!"
"Go ahead," Ted shrugged. "I sure don't care where I put my meat, just so I can bang the hell outta this cheating bitch!"
Why are they doing thing to me? Oh God, why? April's tormented brain screamed. What have I done to deserve this?
"Thinks she's too good for anyone but the doctor," Sabina's hate-filled words answered her unvoiced question. "Fuck her good, boys, and then we can say goodbye and good riddance to this stuck-up little cunt!"
She's jealous, the bound brunette realized through the mind-boggling waves of her fear and despair. But all I was doing is having treatments ...
Suddenly Angus's heavy weight was on top of her, knocking the air from her lungs and chasing all articulate thought from her brain. A second later, vicious male hands were clawing at her helpless flesh and Ted was rolling her onto her side and pressing his iron-hard weapon up against her sensitive belly. Oh God! What were they going to do to her?
Once again, Sabina's mocking voice answered her frantic question.
"That's the way - sandwich her like I told you to! Give the little bitch a treatment she'll never forget!"
Before April could fully comprehend what vicious depravity was in store for her, she felt Ted's oversized penis plunging without thought of pain or injury into her unlubricated cuntal orifice. This was only the seventh time in her life that she'd been entered there, and Dr. Ivanoff had always been considerate enough to make sure she was ready to receive his phallus. Now, at Ted's brutally sadistic impalement, she felt far more pain than she had at the time of her defloration.
"Uuunnggggghhhh!" she choked through the tight-binding mouth gag. "Uuuooowwwww!"
"Listen to her cry," taunted the vindictive blonde. "I wonder why she's making all that noise? We all know how much the little whore loves to fuck!"
The huge instrument inside her burning vagina surged forward, never stopped until its blood-bloated head crashed against the tender tissue of the sixteen year old's cervix. Then, without a moment's pause to allow her cuntal walls to accommodate themselves to his huge girth, the football player began stroking in and out of the unmoistened channel with bone-shattering fury.
By now, April was too panic-stricken to even attempt to cry out. What good would protests do, anyway, against these maniacs? Even if she hadn't been gagged, the loudly exploding fireworks would have blanked out her screams of terror. All she could do, she decided in a haze of disbelief, was lie as still as she could and pray that the punishing penis would not kill her, that he would cum very quickly and leave her alone.
Until she felt the indecent pressure of a second hot thickness jabbing between the widespread cheeks of her naked ass, April had forgotten about Angus, the thickset redheaded youth from northern England. She was still so innocent that she couldn't understand what he was trying to do to her until, with a flash of pain so intense that she truly thought she was dying, he rammed his lust-swollen cudgel into the tiny puckered opening of her anus.
"NNNGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
"Good, Angus! Fuck her in the ass! Good and hard - make her scream! That's it!" the spa-director's flaxen-haired mistress encouraged, her voice hysterical with sadistic passion. "Go, boys, go! Fuck her to death! Give her what she deserves!"
Never had the doubly impaled brunette dreamed that such inhuman pain could exist. Every inch of her cock-stuffed backside was on fire with flames of scorching agony, and for a few minutes her mind went blank from the overpowering shock of the two students' furious fucking. When her mind began to clear at last, however, she dimly realized that her body had begun to accept their bestial attack, that her elastic-walled rectal and vaginal channels were actually stretching to accommodate the twin flesh weapons.
Although she was still nauseated with horror and loathing at the animalistic attack, the young schoolgirl's relief at the lessening of her pain was greater than her disgust at the defilement of her helpless body. As the two rigid poles of white-hot flesh rammed again and again into her completely filled cunt and anus, she actually started to feel a throbbing pressure building inside her churning belly, a sort of masochistic pleasure-pain.
"Look at her twitching her ass!" gloated Sabina, knowing with feminine instinct that the greatest humiliation she could heap on her hated rival was letting the girl know they were aware of her traitorous body's response. "She likes it after all, the filthy bitch! C'mon, boys, fuck her harder! Fuck the shit outta her!"
None of the four orgiasts on the dark mountain top heard the stealthy footsteps stealing up the dark path toward them, not even when the intruder stumbled over Angus's hastily discarded blue jeans and crashed into the briar bushes with a low curse. They could scarcely hear their own grunts and groans, or obscene sounds of flesh slapping against naked flesh, for Abraham Lincoln's head was glowing red, white, and blue in the sky and the band which Dr. Ivanoff had hired from Dundale had broken into an out-of-tune rendition of "The Star Spangled Banner".
Lars Mortensen pulled himself out of the thorns, muttering more guttural Danish obscenities, and strained to see what was happening by the sporadic light of the fireworks. Dark clouds masked most of the stars, and the moon was a fingernail-thin sliver of hazy silver. Why, he muttered, hadn't he thought to bring a flashlight? And why, oh God, why had he been so proud that he'd let the intoxicated young girl go stumbling up the hillside together with Ted?
After a few minutes of futilely straining to see and hear above the commotion of the Independence Day celebration, the tow-headed Dane stepped resolutely into the clearing. He couldn't hope to fight off the two larger males, he knew, but he hoped that he might be able to scare them off and rescue poor little April before they injured her too badly.
No one noticed him as he tiptoed from behind the bushes, for the two furiously pumping males were both on the verge of orgasm and had clenched their eyes shut, and the sandwiched schoolgirl's vision was blocked by the massive bulk of Angus Hughes-Simpton lunging down over her. As for Sabina Ivanoff, the world-renowned professor's mistress, she had succumbed to the most perverted urges of her sensual nature and was staring with unseeing, glassed-over eyes at the fading face of Lincoln as she lifted her skirt and shoved her middle finger into her heatedly craving pussy.
Lars turned away, sickened by the salacious spectacle. He had seen plenty of lewd photographs in his time - booklets of this sort being sold in vending machines on every street-corner in the Danish capital - but never in his twenty years had he dreamed of anything as perverted as this. April, the girl whom he only now admitted that he'd been falling in love with, was actually writhing between the two brutes' bodies in obvious enjoyment!
An icy wave of disbelief surged through the unnoticed observer's slim figure as he gaped in horrified fascination at the salacious scene being enacted mere yards from his shock-widened eyes. For a long moment he remained rooted to the spot, hoping against hope that he was hallucinating; but April Maye's lithe, curvaceous loins continued to undulate up and down in undeniable ecstasy, and the incoherent cries that issued from her bound lips were certainly not wails of protest.
As the two plundering males' bodies stiffened and spasmed, and twin rivulets of glistening white sperm started trickling over April's crazily thrashing thighs, Lars turned away and stumbled blindly down the mountain.
"I'm crazy, just like she said," he muttered to himself as he lurched into the deserted mall of Serendipity Scientific Health Spa. "I thought I could save her - I even was dumb enough to think I might get her away from here. But I waited too long, because I couldn't believe the things I saw were for real. And now I'm just going to get out of this sick place and save myself. To hell with her - they've made her into a whore, if she wasn't one already."
Yet despite his bitter disillusionment, the young medical student found his feet turning back toward the mountain he'd just left as he slipped out of the spa dormitory with his backpack and rolled up sleeping bag strapped to his muscular figure. Might as well go that way as any other, he rationalized, not daring to admit to himself that he still cared about the girl. It's the quickest way to the highway leading out of town.
The fireworks display was finished now, but from down on the hillside below rose the raucous sounds of drunken laughter and the loud hillbilly tunes of Dundale's band. Light rain had just started to fall, but it didn't appear to dampen the crowd's enthusiasm.
"Taaaaakkkkeeee meeee baacckkk to hillbilly heaven!" crooned a local star as Lars thrust through the familiar thorn bushes and saw April's inert figure, still tied down by the ropes, sprawled alone in the clearing. She lay so limply that for one horrible moment he thought she might be dead, but as soon as he reached her he saw that she was conscious, though dazed, and weeping.
"Don't worry, it's going to be all right," he whispered as he untied her ropes. "Everything's going to be fine once we get out of here."
CHAPTER EIGHT
"AAAHHHHH! OH NO! NO, PLEASE! AAAAHHHHHHH!"
Lars Mortensen was jolted from a sound sleep by his wife's shrill screams, and automatically rolled over to comfort her. Stifling his sigh, he whispered soft, soothing words while his troubled blue eyes stared out the window above their bed at the early dawn of a Copenhagen morning.
Christ, I hope she didn't wake up the kids, he thought, as he always did when she woke up with these nightmares about the past. How long is this going to go on?
"Don't worry, April," he murmured into her soft dark curls. "It's all right ... everything's going to be all right ... someday ..."