Paula Logan, the high-powered new business executive of Bennett Advertising, with a master's degree from a prestigious Western university, had managed to turn the whole office against her in a matter of weeks.
Feelings of vengeful hatred had spread throughout the entire office when, during the second week Miss Logan, the new female executive of Bennett Advertising gave out a blue form to all secretaries and clerical workers in the department. This form required that each worker fill in what he had done during the day and how much time he had spent doing it. There was no disguising who was behind all this, and the reaction among the office underlings was so violent that half of them threatened to quit on the spot. But there were other good reasons why the people at Bennett Advertising Company hated Paula Logan.
Immediately after the tall, aristocratic-looking blonde had assumed her job she began to make life unbearable for her co-workers. Her first victim was her department's secretary, twenty-one year old Shelby Crofton, a buxom, shapely young brunette who had been working for Bennett for four years.
Early one morning the newly installed female executive had called Shelby into her office and abruptly informed her that her desk was about to be relocated.
"There's been far too much catting between you and the other secretaries, Miss Crofton. As of tomorrow morning your desk will be moved closer to my office so I can keep an eye on you."
Shelby could hardly believe her ears. Here was this newcomer talking to her as though she were some sort of misbehaving school child. Shelby, who never let herself be pushed around by anyone, nearly blew a gasket.
"Miss Logan, you may be my boss, but you're certainly not going to tell me where I can sit and where I can't sit," she retorted angrily, her fair cheeks flushing bright red.
But the new executive merely peered through her gold-frame glasses and said in a cool commanding tone of voice:
"Miss Crofton, you'll do exactly what I say without asking any questions."
And that was the end of the incident. Shelby, boiling with rage, retreated to her desk and began pulling drawers open and banging them closed, slamming her papers on the desk top and shuffling them with a seething helpless fury. From that moment on, the volatile young brunette vowed she was going to get back at Paula Logan no matter what happened.
Miss Logan's antics didn't stop there, though. She also managed to alienate some of the other executives and even Bennett's two top executives, John Frask and Adam March. She did this by firing off memos criticizing their work based on their weekly and supposedly confidential reports to the president, Xavier Bennett.
But while everyone had his pet gripe against the tactless career girl, the person most directly affected by her presence was Rod Newton, the other executive in the department and the person who nominally shared power with her.
Newton, a handsome thirty-three year old bachelor, had a carefree easy way of handling things. He got along well with all his co-workers and the Bennett clients he came in contact with, but as far as paper work and organization were concerned, he just didn't give a damn. He knew customers were often more satisfied with cheerful explanations of what went wrong than with long wordy letters they wouldn't read anyway.
Under the surface, though, Newton was more than a free and easy playboy. For more than a year his eyes had been on the post of vice-president, which had been left vacant, and up to now the field had been clear. To his dismay, Newton was beginning to realize that his only competition was going to come from a woman-a tough, icy career girl who already was giving him a run for his money.
Paula Logan, in fact, was threatening to grind him under her wedge-soled shoes, figuratively speaking. She put in long grueling hours of work, made detailed reports on new ways to use their energy, prodded everyone under her to push themselves to the limit of their endurance. She was one hard-ass bitch, all right, Newton thought to himself, but the funny thing was he could sense something intense and physical beneath that career girl act of hers.
It just didn't add up that a woman as attractive as Paula Logan could be such a grind. Hell, she had the lushly curvaceous body of a movie star, the haughty polished manners of an aristocrat-and here she was burying her nose in papers for long hours every day when she could be out having a good time.
The clothes she wore didn't make sense either. As far as colors went they were usually conservative-something dark or tweedy that matched up with the way she wore her hair-tied back in an austere bun that went with her gold-framed glasses. But the conservatism stopped there, for the hem length of her dresses reached no lower than six inches above the knee. It was as though she purposely wore them this short to tease the hell out of the men in the office in some sort of perverse way. Sure she acted cold and stiff, but every time she bent down to pick something up and her dress flared out she became the center of attention. The men would stop what they were doing and crane their necks to get an eyeful of her lacy garter straps and the trim of her white nylon panties.
Rod could swear she did it on purpose, though the other guys thought he was crazy. His intuition told him that beneath her frigid manners was a real woman, a real sex siren just waiting to be let out. If only he could crack through the surface he was sure he could get the upper hand on her and put her in her place. But how? That was the problem ... though not an unsolvable one for just by chance, Newton's stronger ally in the office struggle had come across a rather unusual incident involving Paula Logan.
It was the thought of this incident which caused the smile on Shelby Crofton's face as she traipsed up the stairs to the second floor of the Bennett building early one Friday morning in the fall. What she had seen was nearly making her burst inside with glee. She had to tell someone, and that someone, of course, would be Rod Newton. He would be dying to hear the news about the high and mighty Miss Logan, the same Miss Logan who was always so prim and proper in the office, but who had a secret life that up until now no one had known about.
Unfortunately, the young secretary was forced to contain her glee, for when she arrived at ten minutes to nine, Newton was not yet in his office, and from past experience she knew he wouldn't show up for another half hour. Paula Logan, on the other hand, was already hard at work, sitting at her desk and scribbling away on the rough draft report she was supposed to present to Bennett later on that day.
Shelby purposely avoided saying hello to her and headed toward the coat rack by the coffee machine where the other secretaries and the office boy had gathered. Sliding her bulky fur coat down off her shoulders she could see Kenny Vernon ogling her breasts the same way he did every morning. God, he was a horny little bastard, she thought.
"What are you lookin' at Oatmeal Face?" she sneered playfully.
"Such a beautiful dress you have, Shelby," he snickered.
The other girls giggled as the voluptuous brunette elbowed the slim blonde teenager out of the way to hang her coat up and then bent down to insert her plastic cup below the spout of the coffee machine. She had more important things on her mind than Kenny Vernon this morning, though Kenny didn't bother to take his eyes off her.
He was accustomed to the rough-and-tumble way she talked, and in spite of it the youth could feel himself getting turned on every time she came within three feet of him.
like now, for example, he had the distinct impression she was bending over the coffee machine an extra long time just to drive him crazy. His eyes wandered down to the hem of her tantalizingly short skirt beneath which he could see her pantyhose and the way they clung to her full rounded ass-cheeks.
Damn, he wanted to fuck her, he thought to himself. Half the guys in the office had done it already, but not him. She treated him like he was in the second grade, even though he was eighteen years old. He didn't know who was worse-Miss Logan or her. One of these days, though, he was going to get inside her panties even if it killed him.
The object of the young office boy's lewd daydream, however, was suddenly summoned by Miss Logan.
"Miss Crofton, would you please come here," Paula called out from her desk. It wasn't a question, it was an order-it was always an order with this dame, the head secretary mused in disgust.
Shelby stirred the sugar in her coffee, sighed deeply, and strutted slowly and defiantly toward her female boss, who was waiting impatiently.
"Please type this before ten, Miss Crofton. I have a meeting with Mr. Bennett and I need a final draft of my report and try not to have any mistakes in it."
"Yes, Miss Logan," Shelby answered with polite sarcasm. She glanced at the clock on the wall and noted it was not even nine yet. Slavedriver, she thought to herself. But she wasn't going to last long ... not when her secret was let out of the bag.
More than anything Shelby wanted to confront this snotty bitch with a certain little piece of private information just to see how she would react, but she knew it wasn't time yet. No, she would just have to wait and act humble in front of Miss Logan for the time being.
Obediently she settled into her typing chair and began to hammer out the report. But Miss Logan wasn't satisfied to have just one person working before nine in the morning. Instead, she immediately called Kenny Vernon into her office. Poor Kenny, Shelby thought to herself, he's going to get chewed out again. And she was right.
"Y-yes, Miss Logan," the freckle faced blonde stammered.
"Kenny, I received a call from Mr. French, the manager of Janson's Food Processing Co. He said that he hasn't received the report yet. Is that correct?"
"G-gee, I don't know, Miss Logan. I mean he should have."
"Should isn't good enough, Kenny," Paula scolded him. "I thought I requested that you deliver it to him by hand on Wednesday. Now suppose you tell me what happened."
The blonde teenager blushed in embarrassment. His job, which was the lowest and least remunerative in the company involved not only carrying messages to executives in different parts of the office building, but driving all over Chicago in his own car to drop off reports and other documents that couldn't be sent through the mail for various reasons. Generally he did his job without question, but the delivery to Janson's Packing Co, had taken over three hours and involved fighting the worst traffic jam he had ever seen. Miss Logan had handed him the envelope at four in the afternoon and by seven he was still stuck in traffic.
In the end he had decided to turn around and go home and just drop the envelope off in the mail, hoping it would get to Mr. French this morning. He should have known better, though, than try to put one over on this snooty bitch. Miss Logan was the type who kept an eagle eye out on everything, and now she had the goods on him.
"Well?" she demanded.
"L-look, Miss Logan, I was on the road till past seven o'clock. There wasn't nothin' I could do, so I just put it in the mail," he explained to her.
"Kenny, I'm disappointed in you, I really am. With that kind of attitude, you're going to be a messenger boy the rest of your life. The next time something like this happens, I'm going straight to Mr. Bennett. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes," the office boy stammered hopelessly. His embarrassment was compounded by the fact that Miss Logan had chewed him out loudly enough for everyone in the office to hear. He retreated from her cubicle like a dog with his tail between his legs.
Shelby glanced quickly over at Rod Newton, who had just staggered into the neighboring office, to see if the good-looking businessman had taken in the latest example of Paula Logan's high-handed behavior, but Rod was in a world of his own, being afflicted by his usual Friday morning hangover. His eyes were puffy and red, the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, his tie yanked down and his suit coat slung over his shoulder. Wearily he flopped down on the chair behind his desk, lit a cigarette and shook his head to revive himself. Shelby defiantly stopped typing and entered his office.
"You better sober up quick," she warned him.
"That bitch already has me typing up a long report for Bennett."
"Thanks, Shelby," Rod mumbled. "You're a good kid."
"Well?" Shelby said.
"Well what?"
"Well, don't you have something you want me to type?"
Rod glanced up at her absently and smiled in a crazy way. Shelby was always looking out for his best interests, and that was a good thing. Without a guardian like her he stood the chance of being eaten alive by that high-powered brain, Paula Logan, who was struggling to take his promotion away from him.
Think, think, Rod chided himself. He knew he had to make a good impression with Bennett this morning, even though his brain was barely functioning.
"You're right, Shelby," he said finally. "I've got to get that report done, don't I? Come in here and take some dictation."
Shelby gave him a quick conspiratorial smile, retrieved her steno pad from her desk and re-entered his office. Rod leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and began tapping a pencil against his teeth. Shelby was dying to tell him the good news, but checked herself, knowing that Rod had to concentrate on business at the moment.
"How's this?" Rod said. "Janson's combines old fashion quality and craftsmanship..."
He closed his eyes, straining to think, but the only images that came to his mind were those of the previous night-lewd visions of Ulanda, the tall, fashion model he had seduced, her lithe firm thighs scissoring open in sensual invitation on his big water bed, the animal agility of her athletic body beneath his as he rode her up and down in the wild untamed rhythm of their fucking.
"Yes?" Shelby interrupted. "What else?" Rod's mind drifted farther off into outer space, still reeling with the liquor he had consumed the night before. God, he thought, how could he possibly concentrate on a business at a time like this? He began tapping the pencil furiously against his teeth, only to be interrupted by "a voice from the neighboring office.
"Miss Crofton," Paula Logan called. "I would appreciate that report by ten, thank you."
Shelby turned to Rod, waiting for him to say something. She wanted him to tell Paula to drop dead, but instead he closed his eyes and squeezed his forehead.
"It's no use, Shelby baby," he admitted. "She's one up on me again. I can't think of a damn thing. You better go type her report."
"You better come up with something, Rod," Shelby warned him. "Bennett's going to blow his top."
"Don't worry about it. I'll dig up some kind of bullshit." He gave her a confident wink, leaned back in his swivel chair and propped his feet up on the desk.
"Miss Crofton?" Paula Logan called out again.
"Yes, Miss Logan," Shelby said curtly. "I'll type that report right away." And with that, she headed back to her desk, her secret still bursting to be let out.
At two minutes to ten Paula Logan was hovering over the young secretary waiting for her to finish the last page and making her so nervous that she made three mistakes in the final paragraph.
"That will do, Miss Crofton," the female executive said with crisp efficiency. Not bothering to reply, Shelby removed the last page from her typewriter, placed it on the pile with the others and watched her female boss neatly joggling the stack on the desk top and carefully inserting it into a file folder.
Rod Newton by now had doused himself with coffee and peeled his eyelids open. He winked at Shelby behind Paula's back as he headed toward the door of Xavier Bennett's office.
"Well, I see you're all prepared as usual," he said to Paula as she drew up alongside him. His female rival smiled half-heartedly and gave him a cold gaze from behind her gold-rimmed spectacles.
"I'm always well prepared Mr. Newton," she said calmly, eyeing him with distaste. "So I've noticed."
Newton opened the door chivalrously and allowed her to enter first, giving her a quick once over as she did so.
She was one hell of a tough customer, he thought to himself. As smart as a whip with a master's degree in business administration, but as cold as an ice cube. And yet, as he'd noted many times before, she was a damned good-looking chick. She had a trim well-formed body, with long sensual legs, ripely swelling tits, and a set of hips with a nice sexy wiggle, even though she tried to restrain it. As usual the way she was dressed today reflected the unique combination of conservatism and daring.
like now, for example, she was wearing a tasteful black dress with a high white collar. The hem came down midway to her knees, which wasn't conservative at all because it showed an eyeful of her supple, stocking-sheathed legs and an even bigger eyeful when she took a seat in front of Bennett's desk. Rod sat down in a chair opposite her and tried to keep his gaze off the tempting sight of her thighs and the lacy little strap of her garter, but it was a hard thing to do. He could almost swear she was practically exposing herself to him and Bennett too. In fact, he could see
Bennett shoot a quick meaningful look up at her from the letters he was signing.
The boss fixed his eyes on her long smooth legs and glimpsed the silken triangle of her white panties glimmering beneath the hem of her dress as she crossed her legs. The old man, as he was affectionately known, cleared his throat to regain his composure and smiled at both of them, though Rod could see he was practically drooling
"Well, we're right on schedule," the graying boss said, glancing quickly at the digital clock on his desk. Rod could sense that his boss was going to be plenty angry with him unless he came up with some brilliant ideas on how to promote Janson's Meat Co. Jesus, if there was anybody in the world who could get more excited about packing meat than Paula Logan it was Bennett himself.
Rod could even sense the excitement in the old man's voice as he tossed him the ball.
"Rod," Bennett said. "Suppose you kick off. Let's get a good handle on this thing so our advertising agency can pick it up and run with it."
Rod looked up at the ceiling and squinted his eyes, trying to give the impression that he was in deep thought.
"Well?" Bennett prodded after a long pause.
"Well, I was thinking we could suggest the idea about this thing combining modern technology with an old-fashioned craftsmanship," Rod offered lamely. "And?"
"Urn, of course, that's just the basic idea. We would have to work with them on it."
Bennett frowned in disappointment at Rod's obvious lack of enthusiasm for the new project and turned to Paula Logan, who immediately adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose and removed the neatly typed report from her file folder.
"Frankly, Mr. Bennett," she began, "I think we should take a hard-nosed approach to this product. Since it will be advertised through trade publications I suggest we cite facts and figures illustrating the Packing systems. In my report I have all this data broken down into an easy to read form so that the advertising people will be able to scan it and back up their claims with proven test figures."
Christ, Rod swore angrily to himself, here goes the human computer again, the machine with all the answers and all the big words to impress the old man. It wouldn't be so bad if she were an ugly old witch, but there she was sitting with her legs crossed under that short dress of hers and that lacy little fringe of her garter strap right out in the open for everyone to see. It was enough to drive a man wild with lust. More than anything in the world, Rod wanted to get this cold-hearted bitch down on all fours and shove his cock up inside that tight little cunt of hers.
Unfortunately, at the moment he had to concentrate on business, or at least try to, as Bennett said:
"Very good, Miss Logan, let's take a look at this report of yours."
Paula handed it to the boss like a proud school girl while Rod winced inwardly. She had really put him down this time. Here it was Friday, the end of the week, and she had a twelve page typewritten report in her hands. Jesus, she was a real killer.
"Very good, very good," Bennett praised her efficiency as he flipped through the bulky document.
Sitting it down on his desk, he turned to Rod.
"Well, Rod, have you got anything to add along these lines?"
Rod looked down at the crumbly mess of coffee-stained papers in his hands and desperately tried to think of something intelligent to say. Finally, he broke into a broad smile, revealing his even white teeth.
"That's a damn good idea," he said jovially. "That's really an excellent idea." He turned and focused his smile on Paula, who greeted it with cold stony silence. Shit, at least she could let him save face in front of Bennett.
The boss settled back in his chair.
"Yes, Miss Logan has been producing a lot of good ideas, hasn't she, Rod?"
"Yes sir," Rod smiled. Bennett smiled back at him, then abruptly wiped it off his face.
"I like good ideas, Rod. I really do. I like to see people come up with good ideas. In fact, Rod, I wish you would come up with a good idea once in a while."
Rod Newton's own smile dropped off his face and fell on the floor. Bennett had never been this blunt before, though he'd been throwing a lot of hints around lately. Rod could feel a cold sweat breaking out on his palms and he laughed nervously.
"All right, that will be all for now," Xavier Bennett said abruptly. "I'll review your report, Paula, and consult you some time before the meeting with Janson's. This looks very well done."
"Thank you, Mr. Bennett," Paula said stiffly.
After the greying patriarch had dismissed the meeting, Rod headed to the coffee machine and sidled up to Shelby Crofton, who was stirring the sugar in her second cup of the morning.
"That bitch," he growled. "She really put the knife in me today."
"Bennett really chewed you out, huh?"
"I think he was ready to fire me on the spot. He just loves Paula Logan."
"Well, he won't when he finds out her little secret," Shelby smiled cryptically.
"What secret?" Rod said, his ears suddenly perking up."
"It's a bombshell. Let's go into your office."
Puzzled, Rod led the way in, drew his desk chair up close to his young ally and listened intently as she related her story in a hushed rapid whisper.
"Tell me again," Rod demanded in disbelief when she had finished. "It can't be true."
"But it is," Shelby swore. "Except I've got no proof. When I went back to the playground to get my little brother I actually saw that bitch hiding in a clump of bushes. Her skirt was all bunched up, and I swear she was exposing her panties to those two young kids. like a couple of idiots Eddy and this friend of his were just staring at her, you know, like she was crazy or something."
Rod let out a low whistle, astounded by the secret Shelby had revealed to him, but then he began to fear that perhaps the young secretary was letting her vengeance get the best of her.
"God, I'd love to believe it, but it's too incredible. She couldn't possibly do something like that. . . exposing her panties ... Jesus!"
"I saw it with my own eyes," Shelby huffed. "And I watched her run away to her car. It was a blue Datsun just like the one she drives to the office."
Although doubt still lingered in Rod Newton's mind he began to recall the scene in the office earlier in the morning-the way Paula Logan had crossed her legs, the way he could see her garter belt and even the lacy trim of her panties beneath her skirt.
Hell, he thought finally, it was entirely possible that the hard-nosed career woman led a double life. It was very-likely that she was hiding a secret-a secret which just might prevent her from becoming vice-president of Bennett Advertising if it were ever revealed.
"You know something, Shelby," he chuckled. "I might just play private detective tomorrow. I think Paula Logan really does have a secret. Get me her address from the personnel files, will you?"
* * *
Though his evidence was flimsy, Rod Newton was absolutely right. Paula Logan did have a secret, and if it ever became known she would be out of a job in no time flat. To a casual observer, though, Paula did not seem like a woman with something to hide.
In fact, the attractive blonde looked much like any other well-dressed career girl that Friday evening as she headed home to her apartment.
Her behavior appeared perfectly normal. A block away from home she purchased food from a small corner store and the evening paper from a nearby newsstand. Wearily, she trudged up the two flights of stairs to her apartment, struggling with the groceries and let out a deep sigh of relief as she entered her comfortable modernly furnished living room.
Fifteen minutes later she had made herself a pitcher of martinis and was slipping out of her office dress in the bedroom laying it neatly on her big double bed. Enjoying a cool, soothing sip of her drink, she strolled to the large mirror above her dresser to take a good look at herself, something she was doing more frequently during long weekends at home alone.
After carefully removing her gold-framed glasses, she undid the neat bun of her rich golden blonde hair and let it flow down over her shoulders in thick lustrous cascades. The transformation was miraculous. In just a matter of seconds, she had changed from a coldly efficient female executive into what could have passed for an alluring sex siren.
Fully conscious of her own metamorphosis, Paula stared at her reflection in the mirror until it gradually began to hypnotize her. Slowly, almost mystically she glided her hands down over her voluptuously flaring hips and began casually caressing the lacy hem of her white slip. Then she gripped the silky material and pulled it up over her head, letting it drop from her fingertips to the floor. Then her hands glided over the tapering contours of her midriff up to the cups of her daringly brief brassiere.
She could feel her full rounded breasts swelling ripely against the silken confines, desperately wanting to burst free. She squeezed them together, exaggerating the fullness, feeling her nipples rise erect at the sensual touch of her own fingertips. Arching her body she slid her hands around in back and undid the tiny snaps, and as the brassiere slipped down off her shoulders, the lushly swelling, pink-tipped mounds of her huge breasts burst forth, free at last from their artificial constraints.
The reflection in the mirror showed a maturely developed young woman of twenty seven normal-in fact, more than normal, from a physical standpoint, and this was what galled her. For as she gazed at herself she was overcome with an intense feeling of self-contempt. God, what's wrong with me? she asked bitterly. Why can't I behave like a normal woman? Why can't I be satisfied with a normal man?
As these questions turned over in her mind, her hands descended to the white silk of her brief bikini panties. Here is the source of all my troubles, she thought to herself as she hooked her thumbs inside the delicate little waistband. The rippling touch of the silky material against her skin sent unwanted chills of pleasure racing up and down her spine. Her other fingers gently caressed the outer surface, smoothing and molding it to the outline of her provocatively rounded pussy mound. God, she thought, her panties felt so soft, so cool. How she loved to fondle them, even though she knew it was wrong' This strange unnatural fetish that had possessed her since childhood.
Trying not to think about the events of the past which had led to her horrible panty compulsion, the voluptuous young blonde turned away from the mirror, headed to her closet, and slipped into a gauzy pastel blue, nightie that extended only to the very top of her rounded thighs, barely covering the narrow white crotch band of her panties beneath. Quickly, as though to gain much-needed moral support, she downed her martini, poured another, and headed into the living room to read the evening paper.
But even now she could not escape her innermost thoughts, for almost against her will, her fingers flipped to the sports section, which she knew would rekindle her youthful memories.
Her eyes scanned the football news photos of heavy-shouldered men slamming into one another with the force of brute elephants, glanced over the summaries of the professional games, bypassed the scores, and came to rest finally on a tiny two-inch column previewing a local suburban high school game.
It was an odd thing for a young single woman to do, to dwell on an obscure column in the sports page like that, but Paula Logan nevertheless noted the time and location of the early freshman game, which was to take place the following morning in Oakville. And then as she stared at the tiny column of newsprint, the lines began to wave and blur in front of her eyes while her mind tumbled back and deep into the past to that terrible autumn day when she was twelve years old...
On that particular day she was standing on the sidelines of a makeshift football field in a public park not far from her home. There were other girls on the sidelines too, but they were cheering and yelling at the young boys on the field who had grouped themselves into two teams to play tackle. Instead of joining in the fun, young Paula was pouting and sulking on the verge of tears, for the boys had just kicked her off the home team
It had happened when Fred Harris, a big rough-looking boy from Oakville, a poor neighborhood nearby, decided that touch football was a sissy's game, and if they were going to have any fun at all they should play tackle.
"Come on," he yelled to Bobby Smith, the home team captain. "Get rid of that girl and let's see who's tough and who ain't."
Bobby, an agile young boy of fourteen at the time, wasn't about to be bullied by Fred Harris, and he was having second thoughts about playing tackle.
"Are you crazy or somethin'? We can't play tackle without equipment," he protested. "Pussy!" Fred chided him. "Oh yeah!"
"Yeah. That girl's the best one on your team," the bigger boy taunted.
"That's what you think."
"Okay well show me then. Let's play tackle."
Bobby's face was red with anger now. "Okay," he said, and then stormed away to the other side of the scrimmage line to his team huddle.
"We can't chicken out now. We gotta play tackle," he convinced the others and looked up at Paula, who was dressed in a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. "You better go to the sidelines."
The confident expression on the young tomboy's face suddenly dropped. "Oh no, I'm playing too!" she cried.
"No, you're not. You'll get hurt. Didn't you hear what I said, we're gonna play tackle."
"I'm playing too!"
"Hey, come on Paula, you're a girl. You can't do that," one of the other boys complained.
"Yeah, come on. We wanna beat these guys."
"Go be a cheer-leader for awhile, will ya?"
The twelve year old girl could feel the tears welling in her eyes. Almost every weekend she had been playing touch football with the same boys, and she could run and pass better than most of them. Now just because Fred Harris and his tough guys were challenging them they were willing to discard her. It wasn't fair at all.
"Aw, Paula, don't be a sorehead will ya?" Bobby pleaded.
"You guys playin' or not?" Fred Harris yelled.
Paula knew when she was defeated, and she turned quickly away from the boys and walked back to the sidelines, not bothering to join the other girls. Instead she watched sourly as Wyndmoor's team ran roughshod over the home team. On the third play, as Bobby Smith faded back for a pass, Fred Harris broke through the line and smashed into him with a bone-crushing thud.
A moment later everyone from the neighborhood and all the girls on the sidelines were gathered around the injured player whose face was red with pain as he writhed on the ground.
"Oh fuck," he groaned. "I think I broke my elbow." After Bobby, the star quarterback, had been carried off the field, his teammates milled helplessly around, as though their heads had been chopped off. They did this until Paula suddenly stood up and with her hands on her hips began castigating them.
"You're not gonna let those guys win, are you?"
"Yeah, well, what do you suggest?" they grumbled.
"Yeah, and who's gonna be out quarterback?"
"I am," Paula announced defiantly.
Surprisingly, the young girl took command of the situation with ease, and she avoided being tackled by giving quick hand-offs and short passes. She could see she had made Fred Harris good and angry by bringing her team right down to the goal line. One more play and she could score a touchdown.
At that moment the other team called a time out and huddled behind the goal. It was an extra long time out, and she could hear the big rough-looking boys laughing and shouting and clapping their hands together, though she couldn't possibly anticipate what they had in mind for her. She didn't find out until the next play which she realized she would have to run herself in order to get a touchdown, since the ball was practically on the goal line.
Everything whirled by so quickly, it became a jumble of confusion. The ball was snapped back from center, she raced furiously around the right end to score the touchdown and suddenly, without warning, all the rules disappeared and the game became something other than football. Fred Harris' entire team was charging her from all sides whooping and yelling, their faces contorted into strange lustful expressions the young girl had never witnessed before in her life.
Fred Harris was the first one to bring her to the ground. His head dove in between her legs, his hands driving into the backs of her knees and collapsed her like a folding chair. The sweating bodies of the big, tough-looking boys closed in all around her. Eager hands pulled at her sweatshirt and blue jeans.
"Get the quarterback," someone yelled.
"Yeah, get her, get her!" the others chanted in chorus as they closed in even tighter around her.
"Stop, stop! Don't! Please!" She tried to protest as she wiggled and squirmed in a desperate effort to break loose, but her frantic pleas went unheeded. She could feel clammy, excited young hands half-tearing her sweatshirt up over her head as she desperately thrashed and kicked.
Other pairs of hand popped open the snap of her blue jeans, ripped down the zipper, and pulled them off her flailing legs. Her pleasant tomboy world had suddenly turned into a horrible nightmare.
"We got her now!"
"Come on, let's take the rest of her clothes off."
"Yeah, we'll show this stupid chick."
Tears poured from the helpless teenager's eyes and she began to scream uncontrollably, loud piercing cries that rent the air of the calm, peaceful playing field. Before she knew what was happening, her small training brassiere had been torn loose, and she was naked except for her flimsy little white nylon panties.
Struggling mightily to protect her virginal young loins from the ravishment she thought was sure to come, she clamped her hands fiercely around her panty waistband, fighting to keep it from being ripped away from these crude, savagely aroused boys. Her legs kicked and pushed, her arms twisted and pulled, she screamed and screamed until she thought her vocal chords were going to burst, and suddenly the kids around her began to come to their senses.
"Hey, come on, cool it."
"Yeah, let's get outta here."
"Move it before the cops come."
One by one they silently disengaged themselves from the tangled pileup they had formed around the defenseless young girl. As they scurried away she could see the boys from her own team gathered around her, strange looks of excitement and horror mingled on their faces. But then they too began to turn and walk quickly away, breaking into a fast run, as though they were hurrying away from some beggar with a terrible disease.
The twelve year old girl was up on her feet now, tears pouring down her cheeks, her face livid with rage. Her young, newly developing body exposed and humiliated, she began screaming every foul curse word she had ever heard in her life.
"Bastards!" she yelled, the cords of her neck standing out in relief as though they were about to burst. "Dirty bastards!"
Silently the young boys scooped up their coats and hurried homeward in separate directions, not once looking back, leaving her to her own fate ... a twelve year old girl alone and humiliated.
She was standing there practically naked, only her panties left to protect her. Her clothes lay scattered around about. Only moments ago she had been one of the gang wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, just like the boys wore. But in just a few brutal seconds she had been taught that she was a woman. For the first time in her life she had become the object of male lust, and now she was stripped naked except for her frilly little panties, the badge of her femininity, the femininity she swore she was going to use against men for the rest of her life.
A shudder of horror trembled through Paula Logan's body even now as she recalled the horrible event from her past, and she fixed herself a third martini. God, what a deep scar that incident had left on her!
Ever since that day she had been marked with an unnatural craving for revenge-a craving that expressed itself in a terrible need to expose her panties to young boys and tease them until they could barely stand it. It was the amazed expression on their faces that satisfied her. She reveled in her power to shock and tantalize them without completely giving herself to them. She reveled in her female ability to render them helpless, just as she had felt helpless when attacked by those teenage boys so many years ago.
A funny little smile crossed the bitter blonde's face and she began to tear out the clipping of the high school football game that was to take place tomorrow. She was going to take a little trip tomorrow-just a short trip to a certain high school football field in the suburbs of Chicago.
CHAPTER TWO
When Rod Newton awoke at nine on Saturday morning, he felt more than a little ridiculous assuming the role of private detective. He felt downright silly, in fact, packing his camera and telephoto lens in their carrying case and carrying it downstairs to his convertible parked in the lot of his suburban apartment building.
He had dressed casually, as though he were just going to do a few errands-a dark turtleneck sweater and brown cords, along with a pair of sunglasses which were a bit conspicuous for an autumn day in October, even though it was a clear beautiful day. At least, though, the sunglasses might prevent Paula Logan from immediately recognizing him if she just happened to sight him from the rearview mirror of her car as he followed her.
As he headed his car toward Chicago city center, he began feeling even more absurd. What if he spent the whole day waiting outside her apartment while she, in turn, spent the whole day inside. What if she had already left, and what if he did follow her and found that she didn't do anything abnormal? Hell, he might have to spend two weeks on her tail to verify what Shelby Crofton had told him. And furthermore, what if that sexy little secretary's imagination had just run away with her? Paula Logan certainly didn't seem the type to expose her panties to young boys, but still Rod had faith in the fallibility of humankind. Everybody had some kind of secret they were hiding, he told himself, and he was personally going to avail himself of Paula Logan's to put her in her proper place!
An hour later he was threading his car through the tangled traffic of downtown Chicago, negotiating it toward the street address Shelby had swiped for him from the personnel file. After he had found it, he was obliged to cruise around the block several times to wait for a parking space to open up, and after that he had to wait an hour more before Paula emerged from her apartment house. When she did, though, it was one hell of a surprise.
In fact, it was so surprising that Rod even whistled under his breath. Was this the same Paula Logan he knew from the office; hell, no, it couldn't be.
The woman who was coming down the steps of the town-house looked like some sort of movie star. She was wearing an ultra short skirt that revealed enough thigh to practically make him cum in his pants. On top of that she was sporting a white see-through blouse, even though October was not known to be one of the hottest months of the year. Her hair, too, was different. None of this tightly pulled bun business. . . just long glossy honey-blonde tresses that flowed luxuriantly down over her shoulders. And the glasses ... what happened to the gold-framed glasses that usually made her look like an accountant? She must have traded them in for a pair of contact lenses or something. He peered forward in his seat to make sure he had zeroed in on the right woman, and sure enough he had. No doubt about it, the blue Datsun she stepped into was the same one he'd seen in the office parking lot.
Excitedly, the amateur private detective gunned his engine and five minutes later found himself following his business rival through the maze of city center streets, his car trailing discreetly behind the blue Datsun that zoomed onto the expressway leading northwest out of the city.
Rod was growing more ecstatic by the moment. His dumb idea about playing detective was beginning to pay off. After all, who could expect that Paula Logan would be jazzed up like a sex siren on a Saturday morning? What Shelby had told him was beginning to sound like the truth.
Paula, for her part, was completely oblivious to the convertible tailing her. She was aware only of the strange feelings of excitement and tension, that were beginning to creep up on her. She was so tense, in fact, that the palms of her hands were beginning to sweat against the steering wheel. She could feel a parched roughness in her throat, and even her leg began to tremble as she pressed her high-heeled shoe down on the accelerator. God, she knew what she was going to do was wrong, but she couldn't help herself.
All morning in spite of the warnings her conscience had been flashing to her, she had felt the heady anticipation of encountering young teenage boys on the football field-handsome young boys, naive and innocent. Soon she had left the choking smog of the city behind as she followed the expressway exit ramp onto the turn-off for Oakville. It was a clear autumn day, the sun shining brightly above, a light breeze blowing through the red and gold trees-the kind of day that would make anyone feel relaxed-anyone, that is, except Paula Logan, whose perverted excitement was growing by leaps and bounds.
By noon she had arrived at the Oakville High athletic fields just in time to witness the crowd of young boys and girls pouring out from the bleachers of the main field.
This was ideal, she thought to herself, as she tamed the blue Datsun to a slow cruising speed. The freshman football game was just over, and the high school varsity team wouldn't be playing for another two hours. There were bound to be some stray boys lingering after the game, perhaps playing touch football by themselves, in one of the adjacent fields.
Behind her, Rod Newton abruptly eased off his accelerator and followed at a safe distance. Just what in the hell was this broad doing? he wondered to himself. Why would she drive all the way out to this suburban high school football field just in time to miss the football game, unless of course she were looking for something else-perhaps some stray boys, some boys very similar to Shelby's little brother and his friend! Rod grinned at the thought of getting a peek at his female co-worker's private sex life. This, in fact, was even more exciting than getting the best of her in the office battle.
Gradually the crowd began to thin out, knots of exuberant boys and girls heading towards their cars in the parking lot. Horns honked, tires squealed as the cars wheeled out over the macadam, and in the middle of this noisy crowd of teeny-boppers was Paula Logan in her blue Datsun just cruising along looking for unsuspecting little boys. If only she knew her every move was being followed, Rod chuckled gleefully...
By now, Paula had finally sighted her prey. Just as she'd expected, there were two young boys aimlessly tossing a football in a small field on the other side of the main bleachers. The field, which looked like a practice area, was located adjacent to a small stone building and was bordered on the far end by a steep embankment.
Immediately the possessed blonde's muscles tensed and her heart began to thump in her chest. Bringing her car to a halt only about twenty-five yards or so from where the boys were playing, she glanced at the stone building, which was actually a field house, noted that it was empty, and turned off the engine.
Inside the trailing convertible a big wide grin crossed Rod Newton's face. That was it, he thought. This was the moment he would discover what made Paula Logan tick, the moment the desperate job battle would turn in his favor.
The attractive blonde-haired woman in the blue Datsun slipped on a pair of sunglasses and withdrew a compact mirror from her pocketbook. She nervously caressed the long lustrous locks of her hair and shot quick glances out of the corner of her eye. Good, she thought to herself. They hadn't noticed her yet, since they were too wrapped up in their little football game. Finally, though, she could stand the temptation no longer. Inserting the compact in her pocketbook she kicked off her shoes, curled up her legs on the front seat, and resting her arm on the door panel of the driver's side, turned to feast her eyes on her catch-two innocent young teenagers who hadn't the faintest idea what was in store for them.
God, they were so youthful, so naive, she mused. Their guileless innocence was practically making her drool, and yet at the same time she despised them for the very fact that they were young males, that they reminded her of the terrible thing a group of young boys had done to her in the distant past.
The boy on the left from her vantage point looked about thirteen. He had thick brown hair and deep-set brown eyes. He was wearing a tight-fitting T-shirt that molded around his chest to reveal his developing muscles. His faded jeans clung tightly to the slender cheeks of his buttocks, and her eyes fixed on him intently as he faded back to throw a long pass.
The boy who was running swiftly to catch it was shorter and a bit stockier but about the same age and with wild curly red hair. His agile young legs churned powerfully as he raced after the football that had been thrown over his head, and with a graceful lunge he caught it in his fingertips, brough it down against his chest and dove expertly to the ground, rolling on his shoulder and bouncing quickly to his feet.
"Nice catch, Bonzo," the brown-haired boy called out.
"Lenny," the second boy shouted back, "your turn next." And cocking his arm, he hurled the football in a long high arc.
Paula watched all this as though she were witnessing a ballet of youthful innocence. God, how could she do what she had to do next to these inexperienced youngsters? How could she shock and tantalize them by exposing her panties to their inexperienced eyes? Yet now, even as these doubts plagued her, she found herself slipping gradually into an overwhelming trance-like state.
Tense with anticipation she moistened her full red lips with the tip of her tongue and began gliding her hands sensually up over the gauzy material of her see-through blouse. Slowly, one by one, she undid the top three buttons to reveal just a hint of her voluptuous white breasts and the alluring deep valley between them.
From a distance, Rod Newton squinted his eyes to focus more accurately on this incredible sight, and now beyond any doubt, he realized that Shelby had been right. Jesus! Paula Logan was going to pick up those two young kids. Excitedly he pressed forward in his seat, draping his arms over the steering wheel. In fact, he was so worked up he had almost forgotten that he'd brought his camera along with him. Damn, what was she going to do next?
For a long moment Paula merely stared lustfully at the two teenagers, who were still absorbed in their game, and as she stared her yearning nipples rose to erect little points against the restraints of her flimsy white brassiere. Chills of lewd excitement began to pulse through her trembling body. God, how desperately she wanted these kids to look at her. How desperately she wanted them to gape in amazement as she lured them over to the car and exposed herself to them! With the palms of her hands, Paula pushed her proudly swelling breasts up against each other, squeezing her aching nipples through her brassiere with the tips of her fingers.
Any minute now they would see her, and any minute they would stop dead in their tracks, bug-eyed. Then they would be all hers, trapped in the web of depravity she had so carefully spun for them.
In a minute it happened. Lenny Jones, the brown-haired boy, just by chance glanced over in the direction of the blue Datsun he had seen out of the corner of his eye. He did so at the very moment the football was hurtling directly toward him and the sight that struck his eyes was so amazing that his mouth gaped open, his hands fell to his sides, and the football bounced off his chest without him even blinking.
"Jesus Christ!" he gaped.
"Hey, what happened? You look like you saw a ghost," the redheaded boy called out.
"Ghost, shit. Take a look over there, Davy."
Davy stopped dead in his tracks, shot a glance at the Datsun and froze. Jesus Christ was right! The blonde-haired woman in the car had her blouse unbuttoned part way, and she was rubbing her half-naked tits in broad daylight. The two boys stared at her in unconcealed wonder, their eyes glazed, their mouths hanging incredulously open.
Sudden pulsations of joy rippled through Paula Logan's body. She had them now. They were all hers to do with as she wanted! Casually she slid down in the car seat, her short tweed dress bunching up around her hips. Her long slender right leg reached out, and with her toes she pressed down on the door handle and kicked the passenger door halfway open.
"Holy shit, what do you think she's doing?" Davy asked.
"Beats me, but I'm gonna find out. She looks like a spaced-out chick. Come on, Davy, get down so she can't see us coming."
The two teenagers sank to their knees and stealthily crept over the grass to get a better angle on the front seat of the car. To their amazement, Paula's stretched out foot kicked the door open even wider until it swung out full length.
Bu Paula Logan wasn't the only one who took in their look of youthful surprise: Rod Newton saw it too, even though he couldn't see what his scheming co-worker was doing at the moment. Now was his chance, he thought. While she was sunk down in the car seat and the two kids were absorbed in gazing at her he could sneak behind that field house and make his way to the steep embankment at the other end of the playing field. From there he could see exactly what was going on and what's more, take photographs of it. Christ, he thought, it was almost unbelievable that this super-efficient business woman had just transformed herself into a lust crazed child-seducer, but there it was-happening before his very eyes...
As the titillated whispers of the two young teenagers floated to her ears, Paula reclined sensually back against the cool plastic car seat and spread her willowy legs brazenly apart. Her left foot dangled off the front edge of the seat and touched the thick-carpeted floor while her right leg she tucked back under her thigh. Even now she could feel tiny warm droplets of moisture seeping down into her flimsy panty crotch band. Come closer, she murmured to herself, come closer and see Paula's panties. You want to touch them, don't you? You want to run your hot little fingers over the cool silk and feel my hot little pussy. You want to, don't you? As a tantalizing smile played lewdly over her lips, she reached down for the hem of her short skirt and worked it even higher to reveal the entirety of her daringly brief white bikini panties.
"Oh wow!" Davy Matson moaned ecstatically. "I gotta get closer."
"Hey, wait a minute. You can't-she's gonna see us."
"The hell with that. I'm gonna get a fifty-yard line seat."
Before Lenny could restrain his friend, Davy was crawling on his hands and knees toward the convertible like a hungry dog.
Paula, fully conscious of the excitement she was arousing, slowly caressing the insides of her stocking-sheathed thighs. Her fingers rippled up and down over the firmly yielding flesh like tickling feathers, slithering inch by inch up toward the silken sheen of her panties, and she could feel the hot wet moisture of her loins seeping out in greater excitement against the tightly confining nylon.
Davy by now was within ten feet of the car, and he could hear his companion crawling up fast behind him. The sight of the lewdly sprawled woman on the front seat was making his cock shoot up inside his pants like a bamboo pole. Jesus, she was driving him crazy! He thought any minute he was going to cum in his pants!
In the meantime, Rod Newton had sneaked around the stone-house unnoticed and hidden himself along the embankment about seventy-five yards away from the car. His view was not as good as he would have liked, but he could still see plenty, especially after he'd attached a telephoto lens to his camera. He could see Paula Logan, the high-powered executive of Bennett Advertising, invitingly laid out on the front seat of her car on the verge of seducing two young boys. Hell, that was all he needed! He had something on her now, and if she thought she was going to get the best of him she was dead wrong. Still, even though he had discovered her secret, he continued watching the salacious spectacle unfolding on the playing field below. He could feel his cock springing out hard and rigid against the confines of his pants. Hell, that bitch was one big tease all right, and if it was the last thing he did he was going to shove his cock inside those flimsy little panties of hers. But for now he was just going to watch.
Down below inside the Datsun, Paula suddenly removed her sunglasses and stared straight at the two boys creeping up on her. For a moment, a surge of terrified panic sped through the teenagers' bodies, and they were on the verge of bolting until the attractive blonde-haired woman spoke to them in a deep, throaty voice.
"You like my panties, don't you? You want to touch them?" She murmured hoarsely. Her eyes looked kind of funny, the boys noticed, as though she were in another world or something.
Too dumbfounded to say anything, Davy and Lenny gazed at her in disbelief as she smiled at them like a beautiful seductress.
Then she raised herself up in the seat and propped her shoulders against the car door on the driver's side, her quiveringly milk-white legs still splayed obscenely apart. She began running the tips of her fingers slowly along the lacy edge of her panty crotch band, soft throaty moans tumbling from her throat. As she tilted her head back against the rolled-down window, her long flowing golden locks cascaded over the door panel on the outside like beautiful silk.
Davy could see the elegant curve of her neck leading down to the parted folds of her blouse where it swelled into the roundly curving cleavage of her half-naked breasts. like a moth drawn to light, he moved toward the lewdly beckoning woman despite the cautioning whispers of his friend.
"Come, little boy, come here," Paula urged in a low other-worldly voice, mesmerized by her own power over him.
Only moments ago this red curly-haired teenager was enjoying a simple game of catch with his friend. He had been a sexual innocent just like all the other inexperienced youngsters in the world, but now she could see the first faint glimmerings of lust in his wide-open eyes-glimmerings of lust such as she had seen once before in the distant past. Only this time it was different. She was the one in control now, the one who could make him do whatever she wanted! Stop if she said stop, come if she said come. A low inviting groan purred from her throat as she arched her back away from the car door and spread her legs even farther apart, thrusting her vagina forward, teasing him with the sight of her brief white panties, the silken second skin that guarded the treasure of her loins.
His hand was at the car door, trembling as he tried to decide whether to jump in the front seat with her or run away. Hell, he couldn't run away from something like this, from some strange beautiful woman who was offering her body to him. God, how he wanted to fuck her if she would only give him some signal, if she would only let him know. He'd never fucked a girl before, never even touched one, but man he sure knew what to do, given half a chance.
But the lewdly positioned woman was not about to give him that chance. She was going to let him dangle there for a good long moment until his little cock bulged so hard in his pants that he couldn't stand it any longer. She was going to tease him and make him pay for what other cruel teenage boys had done to her in the past.
Paula glided the tips of her fingers back and forth along the insides of her thighs, up over her stockings to the lacy white straps of her garter belt and the small unprotected area of naked trembling flesh between.
"Ummmh," she moaned through slightly parted lips as she rested her head back against the door panel, letting her eyes flicker shut.
Tiny electric sensations streamed through her body as her fingertips began tracing the lacy trim of her panties, squeezing the edges ever so slightly toward the center to reveal the curly strands of blonde pussy hair nestled beneath.
Davy Mastor's eyes bulged out like watermelons, and his stiff young cock danced savagely inside his pants. Jesus, he wanted to cum all over her panties. Why didn't she say something to him? What did she want him to do?"
"Get inside, quickly," the mysterious woman whispered at last, determined to get this boy even if his friend didn't seem to want to move. His hands trembling, his heart pounding like a tom-tom, Davy half-leaped onto the front seat.
"Get up on your knees on the seat," she ordered him. His whole body shaking like a vibrating machine, he obeyed her command, not realizing that he was unwittingly posing for a photograph for high on the embankment seventy-five yards away, Rod Newton framed the scene below, adjusted the focusing ring on his telephoto lens and began shooting.
"You like my panties?" Paula cooed at the helpless teenager. "You want to touch them, don't you?"
"Y-yessss," Davy stammered. "Shit yesssss!"
Slowly, rhythmically, she began to thrust her pussy up and down in a lewd grinding motion, tantalizing the young boy with the enticingly rounded mound of her cunt as she undulated her full rounded hips in obscene sexual rhythms. All this time the red-headed boy knelt rigidly still, his body shaking and trembling as he hovered before her like a young slave in front of a goddess.
Lightning sensations of forbidden excitement flashed through Paula's belly at the thought of the power she wielded over this powerless youngster. Velvety moisture seeped down between the pulsating lips of her vagina as .she carefully drew the lacy crotch band to one side and briefly exposed her desire-swollen pussy to his eager eyes.
"Oh wow!" Davy whined like a tortured animal. She was flashing her cunt at him, and he was just kneeling there like a dumb ass-hole. Christ, he couldn't stand it any longer! He was going to jump right on top of her!
But before he could move, she began whispering instructions to him in a sharp commanding voice.
"Undo your zipper!" she ordered him like an angry school teacher.
"Oh J-Jeeeesus!" he gasped as he fumbled with his fly and felt a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
In the meantime, his friend found that he couldn't stand the suspense any longer. Lenny Jones crept forward on his hands and knees, his stiff cock thrashing around inside his pants like an angry snake. When he had reached the car he timidly rose to his feet and peered into the front seat just in time to see the strange mystery woman reaching inside Davy's pants and grasping his young cock firmly in her hand.
"Holy balls!" the spying teenager swore out loud, though he wasn't the only one who was amazed.
Hidden behind a low shrub on the embankment Rod Newton zeroed in on the scene again with his camera. What a shot! That young kid on his knees with his cock hanging out and Paula Logan's hand wrapped around it. This was going to be an award-winning photograph, he chuckled to himself as he snapped the shutter.
Davy Maston couldn't hear the distant click, however. The only thing he could hear was the crazy pounding of his own blood inside his head and the excited fluttering of his heart as the lust-demented older woman wrapped her fingers around the entire length of his hard young cock and began stroking it back and forth, making it swell and pulse as though it had a lewd life of its own.
"Oh wow!" he gasped out loud, supporting himself with one hand on the dashboard and the other on top of the car seat. Crazy sensations rippled up and down his spine, and his balls ached as though they were going to explode any second. Her clasped fingers glided down the length of its rigid base as it jerked and palpitated with excitement.
"Aaaaagh!" he moaned as she reached inside his pants and began massaging the small hairless sac of his balls. His young aroused cock quivered and throbbed, ready to spew its white-hot load in mid-air.
"Get closer!" she hissed. "Closer!"
As waves of savage excitement swarmed through his body, the curly-haired youth moved deeper in between her widespread legs.
He could feel them moving together, circling around his own legs where they were bent at the knee, trapping him in her web, her body sliding down in the seat so that the hem of her skirt pushed farther up over her stomach.
"Now I'm going to let you fuck my little panties. That's what you want, isn't it?" she breathed.
"G-geeze yes, yes!"
The sweating palms of his hands gripped the car seat and dashboard on either side for dear life as his friend looked on in utter amazement from behind. Lenny Jones' mouth was wide open, his face pale and his entire body trembling. Holy balls! He wanted to jump right in there and push Davy out of the way. Jesus, this was the first real live piece of ass he'd seen in his entire life.
Lenny's young cock throbbed wildly inside his pants as he gaped at the lewdly aroused woman's rounded thighs wrapped luridly around his companion's legs, the thin straps of her garter belt expanding and contracting as she rhythmically squeezed, and released her obscene scissor-grip around his legs. And then right before his eyes, he saw her suddenly yanking Davy's pants down below his buttocks. Goddamn, he must be about ready to shoot his wad!
As the swollen lips of her pussy palpitated insanely beneath her panties, Paula grasped the captive teenager's cock and guided it up against the hotly swelling mound of her vagina, feeling it pulse and throb with spasmodic ecstasy.
Deep passionate moans poured from her lips as she levered her legs up high and wrapped them firmly around the young boy's muscular white buttocks.
"Ooooo Christ!" he wailed, clenching his eyes shut against the aching pain inside his heavy balls. His arms strained against their supports as the obscenely aroused woman guided the narrow rubbery head of his cock up tight against the obscenely moistened crotch band of her panties still sheathing her palpitating cunt like a silk scabbard.
"Uuuggghhh, God! I'm gonna cum!" he wailed, his body shuddering with unknown pleasure.
Paula gasped and moaned as her cream-white thighs squeezed against the teenager's hips and her pussy mound began to undulate in an intense quickening rhythm.
"More! More!" she demanded .as she suddenly reached out and grasped his hard unspoiled ass-cheeks and pulled his naked hips closer to her.
His throbbing young cock pushed the soft wet silk of her panties a quarter inch up into the tight slippery depths of her pussy, straining futilely against the frustrating restraint of this strange condom.
"Oh God, cum, cum!" she gasped as she tore at his buttocks, her fingernails raking deep welts in his resilent skin.
Sweat was pouring off the young boy's face now, not the cold sweat of fear but the hot dripping sweat of youthful passion. His heart leaped up inside his throat and pounded there like a jackhammer as his hands tore themselves loose from the car seat and dashboard, and he lunged forward on top of the lewdly squirming female beneath him.
"Aaaaahhh, nooo!" Paula squealed, suddenly aware that the once-helpless youngster was seizing the initiative. But it was too late now. Her own body had deserted her and she could feel wickedly pulsating sensations of her own desire rippling out of control through her belly.
like an animal gone wild she locked her legs even tighter around the young boy's buttocks, pushed up his T-shirt, and dug her nails into the naked skin of his back.
"Fuck me, fuck me, dammit!" she screamed, her stocking-sheathed legs hotly squeezing his virginal young body, her feet pointed high up in the air above the Datsun.
Obediently, the young boy grunted like a baby elephant and shoved his hardened cock hard up inside her wetly throbbing pussy, pushing the panty silk far into the depths of her vaginal cunt. He grasped her soft half-clad breasts hungrily as his body squirmed and jerked in an awkward dance of adolescent lust, kneading and squeezing them until submissive moans of lewd abandon broke from her throat.
"Harder, harder!" she wailed, raking her fingernails across his back until she could feel their path lubricated by blood.
The young boy grunted and moaned as his watching companion grasped the rear door of the car so tightly that his muscles shook and shuddered.
"Oh God, I'm gonna cum!" Davy moaned. His stiff young cock twitched spasmodically inside the warm walls of the writhing woman's panty-lined cunt, and then it burst like a bomb.
Wave after of hot wet liquid poured into the strange woman's savagely grasping cunt pounding against the unnatural barrier of her panties. Her legs jerked and squeezed as she dug her fingernails into his buttocks, her belly quivering with perverse passion, her cuntal lips clasping and unclasping around the eager young cock erupting frantically inside her. She moaned and shuddered, her head tossing back and forth in desperate abandon until finally she exhaled a heavy gasping breath and released her legs.
The young boy pulled out of her abruptly, his mind awhirl with confusion. Hurriedly he jerked up his shorts and pants and buckled his belt as Paula sprawled out luxuriously on the seat, letting her eyes flicker closed.
Davy was scared to death now as he stumbled backward out of the convertible. Jesus, he was sure somebody must be looking.
"Come on, quick!" Davy repeated, grabbing Lenny's arm. It was a tough struggle, but the red-haired boy finally managed to pry his partner loose and the two of them dashed back for their football and then blitzed across the field as though they were being chased by jet planes. They weren't the only one who were excited, though. On top of the embankment, Rod Newton was so shaken that when he lit a cigarette to calm his nerves he found that his hands were trembling uncontrollably.
Jesus, he had never expected anything like this, never in his life! Funny thing, though ... his blackmail mission had suddenly become less important. The thing he wanted most now was to fuck the living daylights out of snobbish Miss Paula Logan. Jesus, what a cock-teaser!
* * *
When Paula arrived home that afternoon she found herself in a state of total confusion, her body trembling all over. Immediately the exhausted blonde headed into the kitchen to fix herself a martini, though she wasn't accustomed to drinking during the day. I haven't gone this far in a long, long time, she thought to herself as she hurriedly shook the gin and vermouth in a container and poured a drink.
What if someone saw me? God, it's bound to happen someday if I keep doing things like this in public. The muscles of her whole body felt tight and stiff, and her mind was on the verge of snapping. How much longer could she carry on the double life she was leading, acting cool and crisp in the office like a robot and seducing young boys on the side?
The tension was killing her, and after she had finished the martini, she entered the bedroom and began sobbing like a frightened child. If only there were some way she could rid herself of the strange compulsion to expose her panties in front of young boys, everything would be all right. But it was impossible, impossible, she thought to herself.
Paula passed the rest of the weekend idling listlessly around her apartment, trying to concentrate on some books on advertising which Mr. Bennett had suggested she read. Early Sunday evening, after a meager dinner which she forced herself to eat, she climbed back in bed and gradually drifted off to sleep.
The following morning she woke early and after seriously contemplating not showing up for work, dressed herself in a dark-blue top with a red and blue plaid long sleeved blouse underneath. As usual, she pulled her long blonde hair back in an austere bun, donned her gold-rimmed glasses and headed out to her car.
When she arrived at work at a quarter to nine, she was surprised to find Rod Newton already at his desk, his feet propped up on it as usual, a broad grin playing over his handsome arrogant face. He certainly looked bright and cheery, she thought to herself as she passed by his office, but she quickly looked away, partly out of guilt since she had a strong feeling that Rod wouldn't be with the company much longer. Good riddance to him anyway, he was nothing but a little playboy who thought he could succeed in business by charming everyone, not by putting in long hours of hard work as she did.
"Well, hello, Paula," her fellow executive called out to her in a pleasant voice as she walked briskly by.
"Good morning, Mr. Newton," she answered formally as she entered her office, a small cubicle surrounded by metal partitions and topped by frosted glass windows.
To her surprise, Newton strolled casually up to her desk and asked if she wanted a cup of coffee. She removed her gold-framed glasses to stare at him, trying to figure out what his game was. At first she thought he was being sarcastic because ever since she'd been with the company she had refused to take her turn at coffee duty like the rest of the girls. A moment later, though, she could see he wasn't being sarcastic at all, he was smiling so pleasantly at her.
"All right," she said finally. "I think I will."
Before she could count to ten, her rival was back with a steaming hot cup which he set on her desk. Uninvited, he pulled a chair up, lit a cigarette, and casually crossed her legs.
"Tell me something, Paula," he said. "Do you think you'll make vice-president?"
The question was so blunt that it caught her completely off guard, and she could almost feel herself blushing.
"Why ... I haven't the slightest idea. Mr. Bennett hasn't mentioned a thing about it. Why do you ask?"
Rod grinned coyly, realizing he could afford to grin now that he had taken those incriminating pictures of her seducing the two young kids. He'd dropped them off at the photo lab and requested a rush job.
"Just curiosity," he said. "He certainly seems to be very fond of your work."
"Well, I happen to be fond of my work too."
At that Rod threw his hands up in the air. "Look, don't bite me," he grinned. "I'm just making conversation. After all, I don't get much chance to talk with you. You're always so busy."
"Mr. Newton, I know you're trying to get at something, but I don't know what it is." She glanced quickly down at her wristwatch. "It's almost nine now, and I have a lot of work to do. Perhaps you could do the same."
Snotty bitch, he thought to himself. She really played that office robot act to the hilt. He was going to enjoy it when he knocked her down a notch, when he showed her the pictures of that young kid screwing her through her panties and caught the expression on her face. Shit, he was really going to enjoy it, but now was not the time to spring his surprise. Now was the time to just act normal, and so he took another sip of coffee and rose from his chair.
"Just call me Rod," he winked from the entrance to her office. He gave her a last lingering grin and went on his way.
As he left, Paula looked up from the papers she had pretended to busy herself with and felt a strange uneasiness clouding her mind. Why was he suddenly trying to be so friendly to her, and why had he just dropped into her office to pay her a visit? There was something ominous in his tone of voice, something a bit too familiar for her taste. Paula continued to ponder this strange behavior until Mr. Bennett called her into his office, at which point she dismissed all thoughts of her rival from her mind.
As she took a seat on the opposite side of the president's desk, she saw him lean back in his swivel chair, fold his powerful hands in his lap, and smile at her in a fatherly way. Paula knew that was a good sign, because Xavier Bennett did not smile at everyone, and he did not give compliments easily, which was the way she liked it.
There was no other male she admired more than this handsome fifty-five old businessman. Even from the alertness of his deep-set brown eyes it was evident that his mind was as sharp as a razor. He exuded an air of calm confidence that was reflected in his strong distinguished features, his neatly combed-back graying black hair and the rugged character lines in his leathery suntanned face.
"Paula," he said finally. "I want to tell you that you've been doing an excellent job. I've read every word of your report, and I agree with you completely. You've hit on exactly the right approach for the advertising agency."
"Thank you, Mr. Bennett," she answered promptly.
"I also want you to know that we're seriously considering you for the post of vice-president. We've kept that post open for a long time-ever since Steve Haines left-and we've done it for a good reason. We want to find the right person. Of course,-there's one problem. We've never had a woman in that high a position before."
Paula braced herself for what she thought was going to come, the thing she had been fighting all her life. He was going to tell her that her work was excellent, but that women just weren't suited for executive positions. They received expensive training then left to get married, pregnant, etc. Her mind flashed back quickly to the experience which had occurred when she was twelve years old-the day the boys had sent her to the sidelines. Men were all the same, she thought bitterly. They let you play the game, and then whether they were twelve or thirty, shoved you aside when you played too well.
Surprisingly, though Xavier Bennett did not say what she expected.
"In spite of the fact that we've never had a woman vice-president," he resumed, "I'm willing to back you, provided you can show me you know how to handle men. You have to understand, Paula, business just isn't statistics. The human element is the main thing-especially when you're dealing with advertising. And if you're going to be vice-president, you've got to know how to handle men like Adam March and John Trask. In essence, you've got to become one of the boys, and if you can do that, you're a sure bet for vice-president."
"Mr. Bennett," Paula interrupted him. "I certainly can't be one of the boys, but I think I've proven that I'm competitive and I know what I'm doing. I think I can earn the respect of all our employees."
"Good, good!" Bennett smiled. "I have confidence in you, Paula, and I know you can do the job."
"Thank you, Mr. Bennett, thank you very much," Paula said and, realizing that the brief meeting was at an end, she rose from her chair in front of Xavier Bennett's desk.
As she left the room, the fifty-five year old widower's eyes fixed on the slender columns of her legs and the neatly rounded mounds of her firmly swaying ass-cheeks. Damn, he thought to himself. If she would only loosen up, she'd be one hell of a broad...
CHAPTER THREE
In the meantime, Rod Newton hadn't been able to get a stitch of work done the whole time Paula was in Bennett's office. He had a hunch that the boss was praising his female rival's work, and it was getting him very upset. His hunch was confirmed when the female computer emerged from the president's office with a smug little smile on her face, the first one he had ever seen her give.
Shit, he thought to himself, she was damn well going to be the next vice-president unless he moved fast, unless he developed a sure-fire plan to stop her. For the rest of the day, Rick racked his brains, smoking cigarette after cigarette. The first part of the plan was easy. He was going to pay Paula a visit and show her certain photographs he had taken. That he would do tonight. The second part of the plan was more difficult, for not only did he want her to give up her ambition to be vice-president, he also wanted everyone else in the office to know what a hypocrite she was, to know that her high-powered career girl act was just a phony and that deep down inside she was a sex-crazed whore lusting after any little-boy cock she could find.
That would be his ultimate vengeance for the fact that she had tried to do him out of what he thought was rightfully his. And that was where things got complicated. By mid-afternoon, though, a definite plan was finally beginning to take shape in his mind. The plan involved a party he was going to throw, a real wild party-in fact, an orgy. Two things were necessary for it to succeed. First he had to lure Paula to his apartment on the appointed night, and second he had to make sure that people from the office would show up, because he needed witnesses to observe the real Paula Logan, the woman he had seen seducing two young boys on a suburban football field the day before yesterday. To make the plan succeed, he needed the cooperation of Shelby Crofton, and he knew the young brunette secretary would be plenty willing to help out.
By the time five o'clock rolled around Rod Newton was on top of the world. Over at the coat rack he accosted Shelby and invited her to the bar across the street for a drink, an invitation she willingly accepted.
The bar was a dingy joint with a pool table in the back and half-drunk laborers occupying the stools facing the counter. They all turned around and stared brazenly as Shelby entered with Rod, glancing at her coat as though it were mink and gaping at the large pair of tits that swelled voluptuously beneath it.
Rod led the young voluptuous secretary quickly to a booth in the back room near the pool table and took a seat opposite her. He ordered two drinks when the bartender finally came around and then proceeded with his business as Shelby slipped out of her coat.
"Listen," he said excitedly. "I've got some good news. I found out about Paula Logan. You were absolutely right. She-likes little boys."
"You see? I told you so," the aggressive young brunette said as the bartender placed two drinks in front of them.
Rod reached out, grinned at her, and patted her hand. "I'm gonna fix her, Shelby baby. I'm gonna fix her for good."
"It's about time," Shelby said. "What did you find out?"
"I can't tell you right now, because it's part of a plan I'm still trying to work out, but I need your help."
"Oh yeah?"
"That's right," Rod confided. "You've got to invite some friends of yours from the office to a party I'm having at my apartment."
"A party? Oh yeah?" Shelby cooed, too dumb to realize that he was trying to imply something important.
"It's more than a party Shelby. It's something special. I want you to bring some girls who know what it's all about, you know what I mean?"
"So ... you're planning an orgy," Shelby whispered secretively, her blue eyes lighting with a seductive twinkle. Rod grinned.
"That's right, sweetheart. A genuine orgy, and Paula Logan is the star performer."
"You're putting me on, Rod," the eager young brunette chided.
"I'm telling the truth, I swear it. I've got a plan and I think it'll work. It's something our little Miss Logan can't possibly back out of."
"Tell me, I'm dying to hear about it."
"No, no," Rod objected. "Not yet, you'll find out in good time. But I need your help. Can I count on you?"
"You can count on me all right," the young secretary swore, the expression on her face becoming cold and calculating. "That damn Logan bitch has been on my ass ever since she started. I'm getting sick and tired of the high-handed way she acts."
"Well, if things work out right, Paula Logan isn't going to be on anybody's ass except her own," Rod chuckled confidently.
After glancing at his watch, he downed his drink and hurriedly excused himself. He laid a five dollar bill on the table in front of his female ally and headed out the door before she could protest his abrupt departure.
When he arrived at the photo lab, it was almost closing time. Behind the counter stood the proprietor, a white-haired old man with slumping shoulders, who scanned his customer up and down as if he were memorizing a description for the police. Finally, the old man took his claim slip.
"All thirty-six of them come out?" Rod inquired as casually as he could.
"Nope," the owner said. "Just twenty-four."
Rod's face went pale.
"Twenty-four, what are you talkin' about? There were thirty-six shots."
"Show ya what I mean," the old man said cunningly and shuffled into the back room. He returned a moment later with two separate boxes. Pointing to the first box, he said:
"This here box has twenty-four slides. That runs you the normal price. This other box has twelve slides in it. That's gonna run you twenty dollars."
For a moment Rod didn't know whether to blow up or simply grab the smaller box and dash out of the store. The he saw a sly smile cross the old codger's face, and he burst out laughing.
"Okay you greedy old bastard," he chuckled as he reached in his wallet. "Now tell me how they came out."
"Look for yourself," the owner said as he pocketed the folding money and handed his client a small viewer from the counter.
Rod opened the box excitedly, slipped in the slides one by one, and smiled like a baby. Perfect! Absolutely perfect-each one of them. Close-ups of the seductive expression on Paula Logan's face, shots of her lewdly spread legs with the young kid gaping down at them, and even a couple of beauties showing the super-career girl's hand wrapped around the teenager's cock. Hell, this stuff was so hot it was burning his hands.
"Friend of yours?" the old man leered.
"It's my grandmother," Rod said, inserting the slides in his coat pocket as he turned to hasten out the door.
* * *
At the same moment, the object of the incriminating photos, Paula Logan, was just changing out of her work clothes and donning a long gauzy peignoir in the privacy of her city center apartment. Customarily she didn't drink at all during the week ... but tonight she felt was an exception as she happily went about mixing a pitcher of martinis. After all, there weren't many girls who'd been practically assured of becoming vice-president in a large company. She deserved it too, she thought. She had worked hard getting a master's degree and from there learning all about advertising marketing.
Ironically, though, if it hadn't been for her special problem, the strange compulsion to expose her panties to young boys, she wouldn't have gotten where she was now. It was to keep from dwelling on this obsession of hers that she'd buried herself in work and stayed free of romantic entanglements with men her own age. Her sexual needs being satisfied in her own perverse way, the only thing that remained was to absorb herself in the business world where she had carved an important niche.
Even now, as she transported the pitcher of martinis and a glass to the low-slung living room couch, she was in the process of improving her mind, for on an end table nearby lay a half-read book on the psychology of advertising which Mr. Bennett suggested she go through. If only she could master some of the techniques of relating to people she would have the coveted position of vice-president in the bag, and this was the only way she knew to begin the task-by reading a book.
Her eyes scanned the pages rapidly in an alert professional manner, and within ten minutes she was thoroughly absorbed in the material-so absorbed, in fact, that she did not hear the door-bell until the fourth ring, and then she practically jumped from her seat. Who in the world? she thought to herself, glancing at her watch as she went to the door. It was seven o'clock in the evening. She wasn't expecting anyone, and it certainly didn't seem like a logical time for somebody to pay a visit on her. Hesitantly she opened the door a tiny crack, and got the surprise of her life. It was Rod Newton!
Dressed in a neat brown shirt, his suit coat draped over his left shoulder, his top shirt button undone and his tie pulled down, he was casually resting one arm against the doorjamb. And he was smiling at her-that arrogant little smile of his-as though it was the most natural thing in the world to just drop by like this.
"What are you doing here?" Paula gasped, ready to slam the door in his face.
"Just thought I'd stop by for a minute," he chuckled suggestively.
"How did you find my address?" she demanded angrily, self-consciously clasping the folds of her peignoir together at the top.
"Easy. I just looked it up in the personnel file."
"Well I can see somebody's going to be in trouble. Those files are supposed to be confidential."
Rod calmly lit a cigarette and blew smoke through the crack in the door.
"Listen, I have some important business I want to discuss with you. I suggest you let me in."
"You can discuss it from right where you are," she huffed, absolutely amazed at his brazen attitude.
"If you're smart, baby, you'll let me in. My business concerns two young boys and a certain woman."
The words hit her like a fist in the stomach, and the events of the Saturday morning she'd spent on the suburban high school football field flashed through her mind like a quick nightmare. But how could Rod Newton possibly know about that? How could anyone know about that?
Her look of surprise registered with Rod, and his confidence grew. Before she could shut the door on him he pulled out a stack of color slides from his shirt pocket and flashed them before her eyes.
"I think you'll be interested in these," he leered. "They're not exactly pictures of sailboats."
Paula's eyes darted desperately back and forth, trying to find a way out of the trap she knew was being set for her. But it was hopeless. Somehow, he had found out what she'd done. Somehow he had learned the truth that no one else had discovered, and he was holding the proof in front of her eyes, or at least pretending to.
"You better let me in," he grinned. "You wouldn't want any of those nasty office rumors to make the rounds, would you?"
Paula grew suddenly pale at the implied threat, her hands trembling as she clenched the door knob tightly. God, it was all over now. Someone had discovered her secret life, and that someone was the very man who could do the most harm. How desperately she wanted to claw his eyes out! But in spite of her growing anger she knew she must remain outwardly calm. He could be bluffing after all. Grudgingly she undid the chain lock on the apartment door and opened it.
"Well, well, well," Rod clucked as he swaggered inside and eyed the living room. "Pretty nice setup you have. Pretty nice getup too," he leered as he eyes the diaphanous gown she was wearing. Hell, he could see practically everything-those large round, up-tilted tits of hers, even the outline of her tight-fitting bikini panties. No sir, this wasn't the same Paula Logan he knew from work. This was the Paula Logan who fucked little boys.
Instinctively the young career girl crossed her arms over her breasts to hide them from his searing gaze. Then she turned and headed briskly into the bedroom to slip into something more modest. To her surprise, though, the uninvited guest simply followed her in and sat down on the edge of the bed, bouncing on it slightly as though trying it for size.
"I don't discuss business in the bedroom. Mr. Newton," she informed him coldly as she tightened the belt of a dark blue bathrobe around her waist.
"Oh, I like bedrooms. I always talk business in the bedroom. How about a drink?"
"Look, if this is some sort of joke, why don't we just forget about it," Paula retorted.
Rod gave her a level gaze, knitting his eyebrows together.
"I said I'd like a drink," he repeated slowly.
For the first time Paula realized this brazen intruder was a dangerous foe, not just an ineffectual playboy. His menacing tone of voice was beginning to frighten her, and after hesitating for a long moment, she went to the living room to retrieve the pitcher of martinis. She paused there, wondering whether to call the police. But what would she tell them? And if she did call, he was sure to use whatever information he had against her. No, the only thing to do was to bring him the drink he wanted. Only she'd be damned if she was going to get him a glass too.
"Tell me, Paula," he said as she re-entered the bedroom. "Do you usually spend your evenings sitting at home drinking martinis?"
He was sitting casually on the edge of the bed as if he owned it and staring at her with a kind of mocking curiosity. Rudely, she thrust the pitcher of martinis in his hand and took a sip from her own half-empty glass, backing away toward a low bureau against the wall. "No glass?" he inquired.
"Not for you," she snapped. "You're not exactly a guest."
"You're a very nasty little girl," Rod informed her as he grinned back and took a deep draught from the pitcher.
"Suppose we discuss business, Mister Newton."
"Don't pull your high and mighty act with me," he cautioned her. "We're out of the office now. It's just you and me."
Paula's face flushed red with anger. God, she wanted to toss her drink in his face, but somehow she managed to control herself.
"Okay, I'm ready to talk," he said finally in a level but still threatening voice. Casually he tossed his suit coat onto the foot of the bed and took the slides from his pocket.
"Here take a look at these," he teased. "You'll enjoy them."
He held the slides in the hand of his outstretched arm like bait for a helpless fish as Paula, trembling desperately, approached him, setting her drink on the bureau.
"Here take them." He raised them up toward her out-reaching hand and slid the top one off the stack with his thumb.
By God, he thought, she was trapped now. She was shaking all over, her fingers trembling so badly she could barely get a grip on the mounting.
"Go on," Rod coaxed. "Raise it up to the light and take a good look. Take a real good look, baby." '
Paula's mind was torn in half. She wanted to snatch the whole stack of filthy photos from his hands and destroy them before he could stop her. But at the same time she knew she must force herself to see how incriminating they really were. Reluctantly, standing at the edge of the bed to one side of him, she raised the tiny mounted piece of film toward the overhead light and inspected it as her tormentor grinned cruelly up at her. A wave of panic surged through her body, her heart pounded, and her face paled.
God, she was finished now! It was all over. The tiny piece of film had captured the young boy with his pants down, his thickened little cock cuddled in her hands. The camera had focused on her face so clearly that anyone who knew her would recognize her immediately. She was ruined, destroyed! Angrily she hurled the evidence down at him, wishing it were a brick instead of a flimsy piece of film.
"What do you want?" she hissed contemptuously.
"We'll talk about that in a minute. I'm going to pour you a drink first to take away that nasty edge in your voice."
Gloating in his new found power over his rival, he hoisted up the martini pitcher from the floor by the bed, ambled over to the bureau where her glass was sitting, and casually refilled,it.
"Here, take it," he offered. "You're going to need it."
Paula gazed at him bitterly, helpless anger rising inside her body. She wanted to kill him, destroy him for what he had done. He pressed the glass into her unsteady hand and grinned at her in hateful triumph. He had her just where he wanted her-under his thumb, only that wasn't the only thing she was going to be under tonight.
"Drink up, doll. It kills the pain."
Paula's knuckles turned white as she gripped the thin stem of her glass. Then suddenly her hand made a swift upward movement and in a split second her tormentor's face was dripping with gin and vermouth.
"That does it, baby!" Rod rasped furiously as he lunged toward her. He grabbed her wrists, twisting them painfully until the glass dropped from her left hand. Violently he pinned her arms behind her and pulled her body tightly against his.
"Don't or I'll call the police!" she gasped helplessly.
"Don't give me that shit. You would have called them already."
"Let me go!" she squealed, desperately trying to free her wrists from his grip. But it was hopeless, she knew she could never resist anyone as strong as him. Before she knew what was happening he had forced her down on the bed and torn her bathrobe loose at the waist.
Kneeling on the mattress his knees wedged in between her legs and splayed them apart as his hands wrenched the robe down off her shoulders. The skirts of her flimsy peignoir underneath spread apart, leaving the insides of her thighs naked and unprotected.
"This time, you're the underdog," he hissed down at her between tightly clenched teeth. Squirming helplessly, she tried to free her legs to kick at him, but he only forced his knees tighter between them, wedging her thighs farther apart. He bent forward from his haunches, still firmly positioned between the struggling girl's legs and pinned down her shoulder with one hand as he seized her jaw with the other.
Pressing his lips hotly against hers, he speared his tongue up between them into the warm wet cavern of her mouth.
Desperately she tried to jerk her head away, but his hand held it in place. She gasped for air as his tongue jousted with hers and then thrust deep up into her throat, squirming like a wild animal with a life of its own.
"Aaaaaaagh!" she choked, her body jerking violently as she tried to break away. But as quickly as he had inserted his tongue, he withdrew it and, with his hands pressing down her shoulders, his face only inches from hers, he gazed cruelly into her eyes.
"Now, you're gonna feel some real hard man-cock inside that hot little juicy pussy of yours," he snarled obscenely down at her.
"N-no, don't rape me! I'll give you anything you want. J-just get out of here."
"This is what I want, baby," he muttered as he lowered his head again and began kissing her neck with savage passion.
She struggled to free her legs held wide on either side of his thighs, but he spread his knees farther apart, stretching them wider with brutal cruelty.
"Just relax baby," he crooned. "I'm better than any thirteen year old kid. Besides, I want to teach you a lesson for throwing that drink at me."
"N-no! God! You're hurting me!" she wailed.
Suddenly he pushed himself off her shoulders and thrust back to a kneeling position. She squirmed back on the bed, seeing a chance to bring her legs together, but his hands quickly grasped her calves just below the knee, raised them up, and held them against either side of his chest as his arms clamped around them like tight vices. Her limbs were locked in a helpless position.
"Stop! Let me go!" she squealed like a frantic child.
"Nothing' doing," he growled, reveling in his power over her. "I want to get inside those pretty little panties of yours."
"God-d-d, no! Not my panties!" she wailed, tremors of fear pulsing through her body. No one had ever taken her panties off, not even the innocent young boys she had exposed them to. It was her panties that allowed her to control males, to tease and torture them. She could never let them be stripped away! Desperately, she tried to thrust herself to a sitting position to escape the powerful hold he had on her legs, but as her arms strained to push the top half of her body upward, he suddenly levered her trapped legs high splaying them lewdly apart. Her balance was ruined, and she toppled back onto the mattress.
Seeing her upended, he jerked her legs back down against the mattress, spread them wide, and pinned them down with the strength of his forearms. Lurching forward again, his fingers hooked into the narrow elastic of her panty waistband on either side of her hips.
"No, not my panties!" the horrified woman gasped, bucking and squirming like a trapped animal. Arching her back powerfully and tensing her muscles she again tried to break loose, but he only tightened his grip on her, spurred on by the excitement of her desperately writhing loins.
His buttocks resting back on the heels of his shoes, he bent low until his face was only inches away from her pussy, framed by the milk-white "vee" of her thighs. He could see the thin strands of her blonde pubic hairs curling out from the leg band of her white panties on either side, the shapely mound of her cunt swelling beneath the crotch band, and he licked his lips in nervous preparation for the feast that was about to begin. His head lowered slowly to the point of the silk-swathed triangle, and his tongue flicked at it with a sudden snake-like swiftness.
"OOOOOOH, God! Let me go!" she wailed bitterly. She pushed up to a sitting position and reached forward to grab his hair in her hands. She yanked it brutally, but it only seemed to excite him more, and his tongue pushed the panty silk forward into the tight little opening of her diaphanously guarded pussy until she could feel his saliva mingling with the hot seeping moisture of her own loins.
Levering up her thighs, he raised them so that they fell over his shoulders on either side. Helplessly Paula kicked at his back with her naked heels trying to hurt him with all her might, but she was powerless as a tiny child, and his fingers hooking into her panty waistband again began to roll them slowly down her hips. Her whole body bucked in wild protest.
"Nooo, not my panties, no!" she squealed.
Rod grinned up at her from between her legs with a triumphant smile on his face. So that was it, he thought to himself. It wasn't just young kids she was after. Panties were her hang-up. Her whole thing was to go around exposing her panties to teenage boys without actually letting them get inside her. She was a cock-teaser ... just one big panty-flashing cock-teaser!
It was going to be easier than he thought to turn her on. All he had to do now was keep her panties on, and he could have anything he wanted. Without warning he unhooked his thumbs from the frilly waistband, pushed her legs away, and hoisted himself to a standing position at the side of the bed. Hurriedly he pulled his shirt from his pants and began unbuttoning it.
Paula saw her chance and attempted to dash past him toward the door, but his arm caught her waist and hurled her back down onto the mattress. She realized it was impossible to escape now, and in spite of her fear she found her eyes glancing at his powerful hairy chest and muscular biceps while at the same time seeking another escape route. There was no doubt that this was a man before her and not a young boy-a man who wanted to dominate her in the same way she dominated the boys she exposed herself to. Her eyes wide open in horrified amazement, she watched as he stepped out of his pants and dropped his shorts. His hugely erect cock sprang right out like a menacing spear beneath his belly.
"N-no! Don't, Don't!" she gasped in horror as he smiled cruelly down at her. Propelling herself slowly backward with her arms along the bed, she tried to reach the safety of the far edge, but in one swift move he dove at her, seizing the smooth trembling soft flesh of her hips through her peignoir and pulling her toward him along the mattress..
Paula froze, all hope gone. She was sure he was going to rape her now, and there was nothing she could do about it. He would shove that huge thick cock of his up between her legs and expect her to scream. God, how could any woman take something so big inside her without being split apart? At that horrible thought she came to life and squirmed again as his naked body mounted on top of hers. The trembling thickness of his cock pulsed obscenely through the gauzy material of her peignoir against her almost naked belly.
His hands tore at the narrow ribbon holding the flimsy garment together at the top, and as she mustered the last of her strength to fight him, he pulled it down off her shoulders and clamped his mouth savagely on her naked milk-white breast. She squealed in panic as his tongue swirled around the rigid bud of her nipple, sending crazy sensations darting through her body. Hungrily he sucked the swelling heaving mound deep inside his mouth as groans of protest poured from Paula's lips.
Finally she managed to push his head back and hold him at arm's length while his erect cock throbbed excitedly against her belly as he supported his torso in a push-up position, his arms on either side of her shoulders.
"Goddamn, I've been waiting a long time for this," he swore vengefully at the woman who was trying to take his job from him. A cruel grin flashed across his face as he contemplated what he was going to do to her, how he was going to make her pay for her ambition.
"N no, please don't do it to me, she pleaded in a trembling voice. All the calm composure she displayed in the office had disappeared so that now she was a squealing mass of fright, in thrall to the dominating male on top of her.
"Don't worry," he reassured her. "I'm not going to fuck you yet. I'm gonna tongue that little wet pussy of yours, and get you nice and hot. . . just the way you were with those little kids the other day."
Paula groaned in despair, clenching her eyes tightly shut as if to brace herself for what was to come. Her energy was almost gone now, and she did not know how much longer she could resist this intruder's lustful will.
Rod drew himself up on his knees and spread her legs yet wider apart on either side of his body. Resting his buttocks on his heels he bent forward and gripped the insides of her soft fleshy thighs. He had found her weak spot now-those panties of hers-and he was going to take full advantage of it. His fingers hooked into the narrow elastic panty waistband, but instead of sliding them down off her hips he merely drew it slowly down from the center until it revealed the hair-covered mound of her pussy. His fingers rested on the stretched elastic, brushing tantalizingly against her soft blonde pubic hair.
Paula lay perfectly still, tense with anticipation. It was all over now, her body could no longer resist the humiliation that was to come.
With his fingers resting on the surface of her pulled-down panties, he moved his thumbs gently to the hair fringed lips of her pussy, and with a slow outward movement began to draw them apart until the pinkly moistened slit was exposed to the mercy of his gaze. He watched it greedily for a moment, and then with a low animal-like groan dropped his head and buried the full length of his slippery slithering tongue deep up into the moist softness of her cunt.
His blackmailed business rival jerked, a soul-searing moan escaping from deep in her chest. Her ass-cheeks ground down into the mattress in a vain attempt to escape the maddening assault on her most secret flesh.
"Oh God, oh ooooooh!" she whimpered before her co-worker's attack. Her head was up off the mattress watching in horrified disbelief that this nightmare was actually happening to her as his head began to rock up and down in greedy feast between her legs.
"AAAAGGHHH! NO, DON'T, STOP, STOP!" she wailed bitterly, her head falling back on the mattress and flailing helplessly from side to side as his tongue speared in and out of the involuntarily dilating lips of her moistened cunt. In spite of her terror and humiliation at the debasing things being done to her defenseless pussy, tiny wisps of weird erotic sensation began to ripple down deep in her naked belly.
Rod's hands reached up over the white flatness of her quivering belly and dug harshly into the softly trembling mounds of her tits, his fingers rolling the hardening nipples between them in unrelenting fury. As his mouth and tongue worked in slavering subjugation at the widespread tightness of her cunt, his eyes remained wide-open to delight in the contortions of her fear-contorted face. He was waiting for her to turn into the sex-crazed siren he had seen offering herself to those young teenage boys.
And he would not have long to wait either, for even now as Paula struggled with the last ounce of resistance in her body she could feel the animal desire flaring even more intensely in her loins. It was impossible to believe these tiny electric thrills were being caused by a grown man who was forcing her to submit to his will and not from young boys whose every move she could control. God, it was so different from anything she had experienced before. For the first time she could feel the savage thrill of illicit adult sex rippling through her soul as this man she so hated made obscene wet sucking noises between her legs.
Newton's eyes remained locked on her face as he continued the torturing thrusts of his tongue deep up into her moistened pussy. He watched her body struggle and squirm as she tried to fight the lewd sensations that threatened to burst out of control. God, he wanted nothing more than to hear her suddenly beg and scream for his cock inside that hungry little pussy of hers. Chuckling softly to himself, he jerked her panties down another inch or so, bent forward again and traced tiny lewd circles with his tongue around the moistly pulsating little bud of her clitoris.
The searing hot contact with this sensitive nerve center brought a low moan of anguish from the helpless blonde's parted lips. She clenched her eyes shut and bared her lips back over her teeth to brace herself against the torturing sensations it sent racing out of control through her captive body.
"OOOOOOOOOH God, Don't suck me! Don't! Don't!" she whimpered, desperately trying to screw her pussy back down and away from the hotly flicking tongue.
His only answer was a lewd chuckle from between his wet lips and another stab in between her moistly glistening cuntal flanges. Slowly his fingers slipped down between the mattress and her buttocks until he could seize the fearfully trembling mounds of flesh. Digging harshly into them with his nails, he lifted them up tighter to his face for better access to her reluctantly preferred loins.
Paula could feel her body rapidly deserting her now. Her ass-cheeks spasmed involuntarily as her tormentor's tongue flicked maddeningly at the hidden depths of her cunt. "Stop, stop! I can't stand it!" she gasped as she twisted and squirmed on the bed. Clenching her teeth together, she fought with all her remaining will against the unwanted sensations of pleasure that threatened to burst free inside her at any moment.
But it was a losing battle as Rod Newton continued to lick without cease at her lewdly inflamed pussy and knead the firm roundness of her undulating ass-cheeks. And then after a final desperate struggle within her tortured mind, something snapped. She could stand it no longer-the obscene postition of her body, the wild pulsations of lust that were beginning to ripple through her cunt, the lewd placement of her panties, stretched to the limit between her thighs.
Never before had she experienced such savage pleasure with a man of her own age, a man she could not control. She jerked spasmodically and began a slow gyrating movement up and down against his obscenely thrusting tongue. Her hands curled down into his hair as a low, soul-stirring moan issued from deep in her chest. . . She knew she was ruined now.
Her body had betrayed her, and there was no turning back.
Paula's lust-fired company rival easily sensed the beginning of her surrender and grinned in triumph as he drove his tongue rhythmically in and out of her dilating pussy. He could feel her silk-soft moistened pubic hairs graze tantalizingly against the tip of his nose as her buttocks clenched and loosened in a slow hypnotic rhythm up against his face. Any minute now, she would be turned on the way she'd been with those young kids. Any minute now she would be his, and he watched the lustful contortions of her face as she tried to banish the wild thrills that were threatening to overcome her.
"Now, I'm gonna fuck you," he breathed savagely. "Better than any little boy could!"
Paula lay still, her body trembling with both fear and desire, her panties suspended tautly between her legs like a stretched rubber band, her breath coming so fast she felt her lungs would burst. Her belly quivered and heaved as though he already had his long thick cock shoved deep up inside her helplessly aroused pussy.
Rod came up to a kneeling position again between her thighs and gloated over the humiliated form of his office rival.
"I'm really gonna fuck you," he breathed harshly. "I'm gonna fuck you like it's never been done before. I want to see you twist and squirm when this cock of mine sinks into your snotty little belly!"
Paula clenched her eyes shut again and held her body rigid. There was no fighting it any more. He was determined to rape her, and the horrible thing about it was that she was going to enjoy it, she was going to enjoy being dominated and penetrated by a full-grown male cock. Oh God, she had sunk to the very depths of depravity!
"Spread your legs wider," Rod grinned as he reached forward and roughly jerked her panties down even farther. He pushed her panty-hobbled thighs flat against the mattress and, straddling her hips with his knees, guided his madly pulsing cock-head forward. The thick rubbery head parted the already moistened lips of her cunt and inched its way up inside, throbbing with lustful intensity.
Turning her head to one side on the mattress Rod shuddered as she felt the searing electrical contact of his cock-head. She held her breath for what seemed an eternity, her body trembling with frantic excitement.
"Oooooooh," she breathed as she felt the throbbing pressure against the tiny elastic opening of her passion drenched pussy.
"Aaaaaaagh," she coughed as the round bulbous tip slipped through, stretching the tight little passage cruelly until Paula though it was surely going to split apart.
"Ooooooooh, God, no, you're hurting me!" She was suddenly pleading at the top of her voice as her eyes opened in pain and fear. God, he was torturing her, and he was enjoying it!
Suddenly the grin on his face faded only to be replaced by a frightening expression of savage primitive lust. He could stand it no more, watching the woman who was his most dangerous career competitor lying spread-eagled beneath him with the head of his lust-swollen cock disappearing into the dark blonde hair of her pussy. He had to fuck her, he had to, and quick!
As he fell forward, his weight smashed her huge globular breasts back tightly against her chest. Thrusting his hips at the same time, he drove his massively bloated cock up into her cunt like a raging bull after the red flag, pushing the soft moist flesh of her cuntal walls in rippling waves before it. There was no stopping him until with a loud groan his sperm-filled balls smacked heavily down into the narrow crease of her tightly clenched ass. And down below his sperm-filled balls, her tight-stretched panties held him like a silken glove.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Oh God! Oh God! she cried beneath him. She had never been so filled in her life-his cock felt as though it had ripped her pussy into a thousand tiny shreds as he speared into her without mercy or thought of injury. And now, now his painfully impaling member lay sunk in her belly, filling every part of her insides. A man's cock, long and hard and thick, not a boy's slender immature young cock. There wasn't one tiny ridge on the blood-engorged rod of flesh that she could not feel as it pressed against the tight sensitive flesh of her pussy, enclosed in the spasmodically clutching sheath like a sword sliced cruelly into its piteous victim's belly.
He lay still for a moment, his face poised directly over hers. Paula, too, lay immobile, afraid to move for fear of the pain it might bring. Neither made a sound for a long moment, and then suddenly she felt a throb deep. inside as the thickness of Rod's cock jerked up another half inch deep inside her cock filled pussy.
"Auuuuuuuuuugh! It hurts! It's too big!" she wailed, her face contorting to the deeper pain. Even as she protested, her hotly fluttering cunt-lips flowered wide to accommodate the lust-bloated shaft of his madly pulsing cock. God, this was going to kill her!
"Told ya I'd stretch that tight little pussy of yours, baby," he taunted her, again flexing his still burgeoning hardness.
"Aaaaaaaaagh," she groaned deeper this time, the cords in her neck standing out from the pressure of her resistance.
"like it?" he grinned down in lewd delight at the pained expression on her face.
There was no answer.
"like it, baby?" he flexed again.
"Oooooooh, yes, yes," she cried, afraid now to offend him. The pain was just unbearable. God, he was destroying her. She had never known a cock could be this huge.
"Beg me then," he hissed.
"W-what" was all the anguished girl could utter. "Beg me."
"Oooooooh, no, I can't, I can't," she moaned beneath him.
"Beg me to fuck you now!" His rigidly throbbing cock flexed a third time deep up inside her quivering belly, forcing another groan from her lips.
Ooooooooh God, don't, I can't." She struggled with all her strength and courage to escape this one final humiliation. This she knew would be the ultimate unconditional surrender. There would be no escaping him ever again.
Newton inched his turgid embedded male weapon deeper into her imprisoned belly, digging his fingers into the wriggling softness of her buttocks at the same time.
"Do it," he commanded, savage fire burning in his eyes. "Beg me, you bitch!"
"Oooooh, God," she sobbed, her resistance broken by the very pain and utter helplessness of her position. "Do it to me, do it to me."
"Not like that. Say-Please fuck me, Mr. Newton," he demanded, reveling in her obvious shame.
"Please fuck me, Mr. Newton," she hissed through clenched teeth, tears gushing from her eyes as she spat out the salacious words. Her humiliation and degradation were complete. She would never be the same again. She had allowed herself to lose control over all the things she knew were right, and now she wished she were dead. There was nothing left but the relentless male cock-shaft buried deep up inside her lewdly violated pussy, her panties stretched between her widespread thighs.
Rod Newton clamped his wet lips suddenly right down over her mouth and began a slow rocking motion with his hips as he straddled her open legs. He could feel her tight-clenched cuntal passage widening slightly with each pulsating stroke as she groaned in defeat beneath him. It wouldn't take long to turn this smooth Venus-bodied panty-freak into a raw squealing mass of helpless feminine desire. He could predict it by the way she'd responded to his earlier touches.
Paula's body began to react again with savage passion in spite of the fact that Newton had made her beg-maybe even because of it, the confused blonde mused fleetingly to herself. She had lost the battle against these obscene feelings now, and even the agonizing thought of her total surrender sent chills of unexplainable excitement running up and down her spine as she felt the slow rhythm of his cock begin skewering wetly up between her legs. Her whole body twitched and writhed beneath him and she groaned incessantly up into the moistness of his mouth, shoving her tongue with a sudden complete reciprocating abandon deep into his throat.
Low hums of passionate servile acceptance came in torrents from her throat, her face contorted with lust, her mouth working, her neck straining for the release she now so desperately craved.
Rod dug his fingers even harder into her obscenely working ass. They flexed and relaxed, oozing like dough between his fingers as he pressed his hands tightly into them. He jerked her up harder to his loins and felt her straining with him, the moistly tingling orifice of her cunt flowering even wider to receive his cock to greater and greater depths.
The pain was gone now and her panty-held legs twitched up against his straddling thighs. Her eyes were closed and her tongue worked and slaved inside his mouth as small mewling sounds of velvety pleasure rumbled from her throat. The cords in her neck and thighs stood out in livid relief as she writhed beneath him from the intensity of her feeling. With horror and self-loathing, she realized that she had to satisfy him now, or everything would be lost. Her job, her self-respect, everything! And, God, she was actually enjoying it.
Rod slaved above her, moving suddenly into longer, smoother strokes that brought his cock almost all the way out of her hotly clasping pussy on the backstroke and then thrusting forward again deeper and deeper. He grinned at the thought of besting this cold-hearted bitch, and slid his fingers down over her ass-cheeks until he found the small puckered opening of her anus cradled defenselessly below. It was soft and warm and he could feel it working with the movement of her ass-cheeks pushing against his loins. With his outstretched middle finger he pushed into the tight little hole until her body jerked with increased excitement.
"Oooooooooo," she groaned from the outrageous probing of her nether flesh.
But there was no respite. With a vicious lunge, he shoved his finger all the way in up to the hilt until his palm slapped flat against her obscenely skewered ass.
"Aarrggh!" she groaned, but he continued working his finger around inside, stretching the rubbery softness wider and wider as he ground into her. Then he slipped another finger in and felt the tight resistance give way as it moved into the soft warm depths of her rectum to join the first. The deep guttural noises coming from her chest slowed into whimpers of pain for a moment and then subsided to be replaced by greater moans of unwanted pleasure as her anus gradually became accustomed to the strange unnatural invasion.
Her victorious co-worker smiled a smile of triumph down into her open mouth as he felt her begin to screw her rectum back onto his probing fingers while he probed them methodically around the warm elastic lower recesses of her belly.
She was hopelessly impaled between his hard throbbing cock in her shamelessly aroused pussy and his fingers shoved tightly up her anus. And now, moaning and mewling again beneath him, she began twisting and squealing in abandon under the lewd double ravishment of her loins.
He slid his other hand slowly up from the frantically gyrating cheeks of her ass to where his stiff cock was sliding in and out of her pussy, and could feel the soft, hair-lined folds clasped tight to its hardness, pulling and giving with each long hard jackhammer thrust into her. For a moment, he fondled the contracting lips of her lewdly stretching pussy at the place where he entered her, bringing softer moans of abandoned sensation from her mouth and at the same time feeling the ever-widening passage of her clasping pussy opening in greedy desire to swallow the whole of his cock plunging far up inside her.
She was ready to cum-he could feel it as her legs jerked savagely beneath the arch of his thighs. He ripped his fingers from her wildly clutching anus and seized her melon tits, pinching her nipples until she squealed with pain. The pile-driving thrusts of his huge cock drove deep up inside her cunt with salacious wet sucking noises that only carried her closer and closer to her elusive orgasm.
"Oh, oh, oh," she chanted wantonly beneath him, her face a mask of unbridled passion, all thoughts of her panties or the teenage boys she'd seduced-or her precious job-now vanished from her lust-crazed mind.
He grunted and groaned as he quickened his stroke so that his rock-hard shaft bored far up into the hidden untouched recesses of her womb. Her tits heaved and quivered beneath the pressure of his chest, her tiny swollen nipples digging into him like buttons on a coat. And suddenly she shivered under him.
He felt her cunt opening around him and warm gushes of fiery orgasmic liquid flooding around his frantically pistoning cock. Faster and faster he thrust, digging deep, deeper-wanting her to remember this fucking all her life. He felt her jerk up toward him several times, the lips of her cunt working and sucking as though trying to milk him dry. Her breath was coming in short desperate gasps and he thrust deep again, suddenly feeling his own hot wet sperm rush up from his bloated swollen balls and shoot from the tip of his cock far up into her orgiastically quivering belly.
Paula spasmed and twitched with the force of her passion, gasping and crying like a tortured animal. And finally her legs went limp, continuing to twitch and jerk as the energy drained from her body. Her heart pounded in her chest as though it would burst. Her body was beaten and satisfied as it had never been before, but the sudden wave of shame and humiliation returned to her again as she remembered where she was and who was lying on top of her. Oh God, how would she ever be able to go to the office again?
* * *
When Paula awoke the next morning, strange feelings mingled confusedly in her mind. On the one hand, the unhappy blonde felt enormously depressed at the prospect of resigning from Bennett Advertising for that was what she would surely have to do now that she had been blackmailed. But on the other hand, she felt an unusual kind of satisfaction combined with a deep sense of guilt-the same kind of feeling she had experienced in the past after seducing young boys.
She hated to admit it, but deep down inside she had actually enjoyed the savage assault on her body by her unscrupulous office rival-not that she meant to give in to Rod Newton that easily. She still had a plan in mind to save her job, and she intended to do her best to make it work. But how could she make it work, she wondered as she tossed off her bedcovers and approached the dresser mirror.
Lazily she ran her fingers through the thick locks of her rich blonde hair, and then the idea struck. This time, to get her way in the office, she would use a pound of honey instead of a teaspoon of vinegar. Rod Newton couldn't be a complete sadist, and if she turned on the charm, perhaps she could persuade him to realize that he'd made a mistake and to give her those obscene photos back. She might even have to seduce, him, but it would be worth it, even though she despised him for what he'd done to her.
At least she could reassert her power over the male sex and, if successful, still qualify for the vice-presidency. God, it was going to be difficult to act pleasant toward a man of her own age. It had always been difficult, though at one time she remembered trying to do her best.
It was the time when Mark Curtis, a fellow senior in the small Western college she had attended as an undergraduate had proposed marriage to her.
She had thought the matter over for several days and then decided to accept his offer though she'd still had misgivings. She loved Mark as much as she could love any man, but for some reason he just did not excite her sexually, and the problem, she realized, was hers, not his. She could recall vividly the first night he had attempted to sleep with her in his off-campus apartment. Sensing somehow that the attempt was going to end in disaster, Paula tried in vain to make excuses.
"Wait a minute. Where are you going?" her thin scholarly-looking fianc' had demanded as she gathered her books up and threw a sweater over her shoulders.
"I've got to leave now, Mark. I've got a lot of studying to do before finals."
"Leave, what do you mean? I thought you already finished studying?"
"I did, but-" she hesitated as he curled his arms around her shoulders and gazed at her tenderly.
"Paula, for Pete's sake, we're engaged now."
"I know, Mark, I know, but there's something I can't tell you."
"You mean you don't want to sleep with me. That's it, isn't it?"
God, she hadn't meant to hurt him, but what could she say?
"It's not that, Mark. It's a certain problem I have that I just can't tell you about."
"Oh, Paula, for Pete's sake. You're just scared that's all. It's the first time, isn't it? Every girl is scared the first time."
He said it with great assurance, as though he were certain of his facts. And technically he was right, for she'd never slept with a man before, although there were two nameless young boys in her past whom she'd thoroughly enjoyed going all the way with-whose every trembling move had inflamed the hot relentless desires of her pussy.
But she was not about to reveal her secret to her fianc' and she allowed him to retain his illusions. In fact, she even went so far as to abandon her plans to return to the dorm and she accompanied him into the bedroom, though she dreaded what she knew was about to happen.
Swiftly, Mark removed his clothes and set his glasses down on the make-shift end table by the head of his bed, then waited for her to do the same. Doing as he expected, she too stripped naked-all except her panties.
"Well, aren't you going to take them off?" he said as though the way for them to make love was to immediately remove all their clothing and jump into bed.
It was impossible to explain to him what her panties meant to her, how they were the focus of her forbidden escapades with young boys. Her whole secret sex life ever since the age of twelve had centered around them. They were the red flag that she waved in front of young teenagers to attract their attention, to assert her power over them, and her whole body trembled with delight as she teased them with the thought of what unobtainable treasure lay beneath.
Mark, however, couldn't possibly understand something like that. Her young fianc' wasn't totally inexperienced in sex, of course, but he had no idea of the forbidden side of it, the strange ways in which men and women can heighten their lust to a wild fever pitch. His idea was simply that a man and a woman took off all their clothes and went to bed-a very rational idea for a scholar who intended to pursue a doctorate in biology
Paula hid her true feelings and did as he bade her, removing her panties and then lying down on the bed beside him. It was one of the dullest nights she ever spent-ten minutes of kissing and petting and then a premature attempt at intercourse which left her completely cold.
After it was all over, and her fianc' had cum, she was left hanging in the air, with images of handsome young boys whom she could so easily tantalize and seduce floating through her mind in spite of her will to shut them out. From that point on, she knew her engagement was over. That same night she left Mark's apartment and, propelled by an inner compulsion that she could not resist, set out in her car for a local pool hall where she knew she would find teenage boys.
The attractive college coed as usual succeeded with ease, luring a wide-eyed thirteen year old boy into her car and driving to a rural area where she joyously seduced him. They were all the same, yet all so excitingly different-these young boys, so bashful and so eager that they aroused the same lustful eagerness in herself, although she always maintained firm control of the situation and made them do exactly as she wanted. She could remember how nervously this particular teenager had rolled her panties down below her hips, the almost frightened look in his eyes as she guided his head in between her legs and felt his tongue begin to lick at her naked pussy. God, how much more exciting it had been than the boring conventional way her fianc' had attempted sex. How much more exciting it always was when forbidden!
Now, however, as she stood in front of her dresser mirror lost in reflections, the young career woman realized that her secret life was about to break into the open, and that she must do everything possible to stop that from happening. Yes, she thought to herself, the only approach was to play up to Rod Newton in the hope that she could conquer him. Assuming she was successful, she could always fire him at the first excuse after she was named vice-president.
The first thing necessary, Paula decided, was a sudden change in appearance to make herself look more attractive in the office and thus convince Newton that she had changed her high-handed ways. So, instead of tying her hair back in the usual school teacher's bun, she began running a brush through her thick blonde locks until they glowed with a lustrous sheen. Then, instead of putting on her glasses, she retrieved her contact lenses from her dresser drawer. There, she thought to herself when she was done, this should certainly make a difference.
The difference was noted immediately at the office-especially by Shelby Crofton at the coffee machines, who nudged Kenny Vernon firmly in the ribs.
"For Pete's sake, will ya look at that!" Shelby gasped.
The blonde office boy could hardly believe his eyes. Miss Logan was wearing her hair long and her glasses were gone. And hell, the dress she was wearing was so short he could practically see her panties from where he was standing. Jesus, she looked like a real sexy broad!
Late, when Shelby entered Paula Logan's office, she discovered that not only had her boss's appearance changed, her whole personality had too, or at least that's the way it seemed.
"No, Shelby, I really don't have anything for you to do at this moment. Why don't you just enjoy your coffee," her female boss smiled at her.
What a change! It was almost too good to be true. For the first time since Paula Logan had started working at Bennett's, she was actually becoming pleasant!
When Rod arrived at nine-twenty that morning, late as usual, Shelby scurried immediately into his office.
"My God!" she said breathlessly. "You really must have done something. She's changed completely."
Rod glanced over his shoulder at the new Paula sitting in her office, wearing her blonde hair down in the style he recognized from the evening before, and obviously sporting contact lenses instead of glasses.
So, he thought, I'm supposed to think that all she needed was a good stiff cock. Ha! He was a bit too smart to fall for that act. For one thing he accurately sensed that Paula Logan was just playing a role as usual. In the past she'd worn one costume in the office and another on the weekends when she set out to seduce little boys. Now, he was pretty sure, she'd just switched costumes, that's all. She's a clever broad, he thought shrewdly to himself, and it certainly doesn't make sense that she would just suddenly change her personality for everyone in the office to see. In short, he was still worried. Paula Logan was up to something, the clever little bitch. Still, he had further plans for her, so he'd play along for a while.
"Listen, Shelby," he said. "Have you got anybody lined up yet for the party at my place this Friday?"
"I talked to a couple of people. I called two girl friends last night and I talked to three girls from the office this morning."
"Good, good! The more people you can get from the office the better. You're my official hostess."
"Sure, Rod," Shelby said. "But I still don't see what you've got in mind."
"Just trust me, Shelby baby. I'm gonna get Paula Logan off your back once and for all."
"Okay, I'll trust you," she shrugged, a mischievous twinkle glittering in her clear blue eyes. She frowned at him quizzically and headed back to her typing desk.
With the exception of lunch, which he ate in a small diner across the street from the company, Rod remained in his office until late afternoon, letting Paula sweat, though he was still suspicious about what kind of game she was trying to play. At four he finally sauntered into the neighboring cubicle to pay her a little visit.
"I've been expecting you," she said quite pleasantly, smiling at him as he stared back in response.
"Oh have you?" he said suspiciously.
"Yes, I expected you much earlier in fact." Paula continued smiling at him, though deep down inside she wanted to kill him for taking advantage of her the way he had. She managed to suppress her primitive venal urge by thinking about how she was going to get the best of him, and held her smile as though she were posing for a portrait.
Rod, for his part, still eyed her suspiciously but began to warm up. Hell, how could he help it? She was flashing that winning smile at him, looking warm and satisfied. Maybe all she had needed was a good stiff cock to break down that icy reserve of hers.
His ego surged sky-high as he contemplated this somehow un-likely thought, as he pulled up a chair.
"Look, baby, why don't we just stop this battle and call a truce."
"That's fine with me, Rod," Paula said, using his first name without a trace of embarrassment. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, smiling at him easily, though she hated herself for doing it.
"I'll tell you what," Rod said. "I'm having a little party at my apartment this Friday. Why don't you just come along?"
"Well, I might and I might not," she answered coyly.
"Oh?" Rod grinned.
"It depends on what you offer me in return."
"The photos, you mean?"
"Yes, exactly. That was a rather nasty trick you pulled, taking pictures like that!"
"Not as nasty as trying to screw me out of the vice-presidency," he countered. "Stop over at my place around nine or ten on Friday, and we'll make a deal. Okay?"
He gave her a quick wink as he backed out of her office, but the moment he reached his desk, he began thinking things over. There was something strange about her behavior.
By all rights she should be feeling depressed and hating his guts. But no, she was sitting there smiling at him as though they were the best of friends. For the first time, Rod began to realize exactly what she was up to. She was still in there fighting for her career, and undoubtedly at his expense. She was tougher than he thought. Any other woman in this position would have quit her job and gone to another town.
But the fact remained, he still had the goods on her, and he was going to have a little fun with her besides. He was going to get her in a situation she could never live down. He was going to make sure she got screwed by everyone in the office, just like she screwed them-only in a different sense of the word. This phony act of hers was going to come apart at the seams.
* * *
Rod Newton's apartment in an exclusive building in Chicago, was an elegant bachelor pad-the kind of place that could serve as a background for an ad in Hustler magazine. And on Friday night it looked especially elegant. The spacious living room area was furnished with expensive modern furniture-blue cord couches against walls at opposite ends of the room, a thick spool table laden with bowls of appetizers and party sandwiches, low comfortable scooped-out chairs, and on the floor, thick wall-to-wall brown carpeting.
Across the room from the table stood a leather padded bar and behind it Rod's official hostess for the evening, Shelby Crofton, who was dressed in a tight-fitting low-cut black dress that made her look like a racy sexpot. Leaning on the counter, the buxom brunette was busy sampling the expensive imported liqueurs that Rod stocked-at great expense-for some of his more discriminating dates, like Wanda, the tall model from the advertising agency that was used by Bennett's. As Shelby oohed and aahed at the strange, sweet tastes, Rod scurried about to make sure everything was well-arranged for his little "party."
This would be the most important soiree he'd ever thrown in his life, for if things worked right, Paula Logan was certain to quit the company in disgrace as a result of it and pave the way for him to assume the vice-presidency. He straightened the throw pillows on one of the couches and turned to the vivacious secretary behind the bar.
"Hey Shelby, come over here, I want to show you something," he said.
Shelby set down her drink and followed him to the bedroom, the center of which was occupied by a luxuriously large bed. To one side of it stood something that looked rather out of place-a red and white checkered table cloth spread loosely draped over an indistinguishable object. It looked like the kind of drop-cloth that artists put over their sculptures before the grand unveiling. "See this?" Rod said.
"Sure, I see it. It looks like some sort of tablecloth."
"You're right, Shelby baby. It is a tablecloth, but there's something underneath it."
"What is this? Twenty questions?"
Rod grinned, then ambled over and ripped the checkered cloth off the hidden object with a dramatic gesture. Underneath was revealed a slide projector mounted on a table with casters.
"So what?" Shelby said, shrugging her shoulders.
"This, baby doll, is our 'light show' for the evening. I have certain slides in here that I'm going to show in front of our dear Miss Logan. Certain slides that are going to embarrass the hell out of her."
"Will you stop talking riddles!" Shelby demanded.
Rod faced the secretary, a rugged grin lighting his face, and grasped her shoulders.
"Shelby baby, this is what you and I have been waiting for. When I get Paula Logan in this room and she sees those slides, she'll flip out. And when everybody else from Bennett's is sitting in this room looking at the same slides, they're gonna flip too. That bitch will be on her way out of a job in no time flat."
"You mean you really got something on her?" Shelby gasped incredulously.
"You're damn right, baby," Rod assured her. "Here's where you come in. I want everybody from the office inside this bedroom around ten o'clock. Tell them you're gonna smoke a joint or something. I have some grass in a plastic bag behind the bar."
"Oh, I get it," Shelby said. "Once everybody's in the bedroom, you walk in with Paula Logan, and we start the slide show. But how are you planning to keep her in there?"
"Just leave that to me, sweetheart," Rod grinned and clapped her on the shoulders just as the doorbell rang. He looked up. "It looks like we have guests."
Jovially, the buoyant host parted company with his female ally and answered the door. He was greeted by one of Bennetts top ad men. John Trask, an auburn-haired man dressed in a blue suit and striped regimental tie.
"Hello, Rod my man," Trask grinned as he entered the apartment. "This sure as hell doesn't look like an orgy to me."
"The guest of honor hasn't arrived yet. Just wait my friend, just wait."
Clapping the hefty ad man on the back, Rod led him to the bar, and was joined by Shelby, who emerged from the bedroom. Trask eyed the young secretary's low-cut dress and whistled appreciatively.
"So this is the guest of honor!"
"Afraid not," Rod laughed. "The guest of honor is none other than Miss Paula Logan."
At that, the smile on the ad man's face suddenly disappeared.
"Now you're putting me on, old buddy. If Paula Logan is coming to this party, I'm leaving."
"Just hang on," Rod assured him as Shelby fixed a scotch and water, which she knew from past experience was Trask's usual libation.
"I'm serious, Rod. If that bitch comes in here tonight I'm either gonna walk out or belt her in the mouth. I got the worst goddamn memo from her today that I've ever seen from anybody in the home office. She blamed me for losing the Hanson account in no uncertain terms."
"You're not the only one who hates her," Shelby said as she set Trask's glass in front of him and began fixing a gin and tonic for Rod. "I know at least three girls in the art department who'd like to strangle her."
"Well, in that case, I don't get it," the sandy-haired ad man said in a puzzled tone of voice. "If everybody hates her, how come she's the so-called guest of honor tonight?"
"You might say it's a surprise party for our dear Miss Logan. We have a certain surprise that we're going to show her. A surprise she won't like at all."
"Now you've really got me confused," Trask said.
"Don't worry about it. I've got it all planned," Rod reassured him as the doorbell rang again. "Believe me, the people from the office are going to have the time of their life."
Setting down his drink, Rod crossed the living room and opened the door on a group of people from the modeling agency that the Bennett Company used. Ulanda, the six-foot tall model, was the first one to greet him.
"Oh darling, it's going to be such a divine little party," she raved in her usual ecstatic manner as she threw her arms around him to plant a kiss on his lips. The others in her party included two more models and several account executive types, and as they entered, Shelby turned on the stereo set in back of the bar so that the apartment suddenly filled with blaring rock music. Rod was beginning to get high just anticipating what would happen when his female nemesis walked in.
Ten minutes later people from the office began filtering into the plush bachelor pad: Kenny Vernon, the blonde office boy; Elena Overton, a dark-haired artist who had been practically fired by
Paula Logan; and several junior executive types Who were scared to death of their female boss' icy superiority. Rod practically rubbed his hands together in glee. Shelby had done a good job all right. She had invited just about all the people with a grudge against Paula Logan-the very people who would gloat over seeing the incriminating photos he had taken blown up to twenty times their normal size and flashed on the wall before their eyes.
"Drink up, everybody!" he called out above the din of the blaring stereo set."We 're gonna have a real blast tonight!"
CHAPTER FIVE
The scene was quite different at Paula Logan's apartment, though, it was quiet to the point of being morbid. Paula had dressed for the party almost an hour ago, slipping on an elegant short blue dress that molded tightly to the voluptuous curves of her breasts and ass. But even now the nervous blonde had not quite mustered the courage to set out for Rod Newton's place. Instead she was dallying, fiddling with a small gold earring as she took a needed sip of her second martini of the evening.
She couldn't help feeling there was something very ominous about this party. Why hadn't Newton come right out and said he wanted her to resign from Bennett Advertising? Why had he insisted that she show up at his party tonight? It must be that he wanted a repeat performance of what had happened the night he had dropped in on her. If that was the case, there was very little she could do. She would have to lead him on until he gave her those dirty slides he'd taken, and when that happened, she would wreak her vengeance on him.
In spite of the dizziness she was beginning to feel from the two martinis, Paula raised the long-stemmed glass to her lips and took another long sip. God, how she needed that drink now.
* * *
Back at Rod's place, the party was growing noisier and more festive by the minute. The living room was thick with clouds of cigarette smoke, conversations were flowing, and the music was blasting, its heavy vibrations rattling the paintings on the wall. Couples lay leisurely spread out on throw pillows on the floor, men were beginning to loosen their ties, and all the while Rod Newton was biding his time ... waiting for Paula Logan to make her entrance.
On the other side of town, finally, at about a quarter to ten, the reluctant career girl overcame her hesitancy and headed for her car parked a block away. Her head was beginning to spin even faster now, though she wasn't really drunk yet. In fact, she felt almost carefree, having resigned herself to the fact that whatever happened tonight couldn't be avoided. And besides, she was bound to get those films back...
. . . Five minutes after Paula left, Rod Newton made a phone call. The phone rang ten times without being answered, and he set the receiver down at last.
The thing to do now was to set his plan in action. Wending his way through the crowded living room, he located Shelby who was bent over the bar counter displaying her full upright tits to one of the advertising agency executives.
"It's time now," he whispered in her ear as inconspicuously as he could. "Start getting our office people into the bedroom!"
"What if somebody else wants to come in and smoke a joint?" she whispered back.
"The more the merrier. But start getting them in there."
A vengeful grin lit up the obedient young secretary's face, and she reached below the bar to locate the plastic bag of marijuana that Rod had secreted there along with a small box of cigarette papers. At last, she thought to herself, she was finally going to get back at that snooty Miss Logan, and it was about time.
Rod remained by the bar as Shelby began rounding up the Bennett people and herding them into his bedroom. The plan was starting to work like a charm, and now all he needed was one certain young advertising executive to show up at the door. As he nursed a drink to kill time, Ulanda, the model, slinked up next to him.
"Darling, you have such a horrible expression on your face," she cooed in his ear.
"Oh really?" Rod said casually.
"Yes, you look as though you're devising some truly awful plan."
He grinned at her, realizing he could make good use of the uninhibited agency model. She'd be the perfect catalyst to get things going in the bedroom.
"You're absolutely right, Ulanda, my love. Terrible things are going to happen in the bedroom tonight. Shall we join the others for a joint?"
"Oh, it sounds so exciting, darling. Just lead the way."
The tall alluring model wrapped her arm around Rod's waist and accompanied him into the bedroom where Shelby was busy rolling joints on the floor by the bed.
"Oooooooh-I just love grass," Ulanda swooned exultantly at the sight of the thickly rolled joints on the carpet. As Rod handed her one she inserted it in a long-stemmed cigarette holder, lit it and took a deep drag.
"It's so strong I just know you have evil plans for these lovely people. Take some, Rod."
"No, no," Rod protested. "I've got to stay sober tonight. I have my evil plans to attend to."
"You must darling. It makes your balls grow."
Reluctantly, Rod took a short swift drag, wincing as the powerful drug burned his throat and set his head spinning. My God, he thought, that grass was equal to five martinis, but so much the better. Once these people were loosened up, there would be no holding them back when Paula Logan walked in.
In just a matter of minutes the plush bedroom was filled with an incense-like cloud. Rod observed the glazed-eyed expressions on his fellow employees' faces as they relaxed further and spread out on the floor. He was almost getting high himself. Finally, Ulanda stretched her long luxurious body and announced in a deep throaty voice:
"Darlings, it is so hot in here. I do believe I'll take off my dress."
The dark-haired model rose to her feet, curled her hands behind her back and slid down the zipper of her tightly clinging black sheath. All eyes were fixed on her as she stepped out of it and lifted her slip up over her head. Her brief black lace brassiere came next as she slid the straps down over her shoulders to reveal the full white mounds of her voluptuously swelling tits.
"There, that's so much better," she sighed as she sank down to her knees and took a deep drag on the joint. "Come darlings, we must all take our clothes off," she urged the others in her cultivated but commanding voice.
At last, Rod mused, this pleasant little party was about to turn into the genuine orgy he'd hoped for, thanks to Ulanda's well-known lack of inhibition. If it kept up steam, it would be the perfect scene for his rival to walk into.
The dream-like trance induced by the heavy blanket of marijuana smoke was abruptly interrupted-for the host at least-by the distant sound of the doorbell. Instinctively, Rod knew it was Paula, and he rushed to answer the door. His expectations were confirmed a moment later when he swung the door open and greeted his office rival face to face. Neatly turned out in a dark tasteful cocktail dress that amply displayed her long alluring legs, she flashed a forced smile at him.
"Well, don't we look nice tonight," Rod chuckled.
"Yes, don't we," Paula said, trying her best to conceal her bitterness
"Come on in and meet my friends," Rod said warmly, taking her coat. "Here, you know George Innes from the model agency, don't you."
The greying man sporting a flashy wide tie acknowledged the introduction and gave her a quick once-over.
"Oh y-yes, Mr. Innes, of course," Paula said nervously. "I've spoken to you over the phone."
"And here," Rod interrupted, leading her deeper into the party, "You know Ben French."
"Mr. French, certainly..."
"And here and here and over there are a lot of people you should know," Rod continued, hardly giving her a chance to speak to Mr. French. He held her firmly by the elbow as he conducted her through the smoke-filled room. Paula's eyes darted quickly from group to group, noticing that everyone seemed to be enjoying himself, though she still felt very uncomfortable. But what was there to worry about? What could Rod Newton do to her at a party with so many guests from the business world? It was later that she was worried about. . . once the party was over and her blackmailer was drunk. The best thing to do would be to press him for the photos now. He certainly seemed mellow enough, and there might be a good chance she could pry them away from him.
"It certainly looks like an enjoyable evening, but perhaps we could conduct our business first," she suggested nervously.
"Our business? Right, of course. Those slides."
"Yes, I would like them back."
"Of course you would," Rod grinned. "Of course. I've got to drop your coat off in the bedroom, and we can both take a look for them in there."
". . . I would appreciate that," Paula sighed with relief. God, she hadn't thought it would be this easy at all. What had come over him anyway? Had he realized the seriousness of blackmail and decided to forego it?
Rod led the way to the bedroom and stopped just outside the closed door, bending forward to place his ear against it. "Listen," he said.
Paula's ears strained for a moment and then she heard muffled giggles from the room mingled with the sounds of light groans.
"I don't know." Rick said. "It sounds like there's a private party going on in there. It might be better to wait till later."
Straining to control his delight, Newton could barely keep a wide smile from breaking out on his face. He could see how uncomfortable Paula was now, how desperately she wanted those slides.
"It ... it won't take long to find them, will it?" she stammered.
"Well, they're in my dresser drawer somewhere. I'll have to look for them. Of course, they're pretty important to you, aren't they?"
"Y-yes," Paula broke down. "Please, look for them now."
"All right," Rick said finally. "But I can't vouch for what we're going to walk into."
He grasped the doorknob, turning it with torturous slowness, teasing her until she could barely stand it any longer. Then, stealthily, he pushed the door open inch by inch.
The acrid tang of marijuana smoke seeped through the opening like a deep fog, making Paula reel from its power as she took the first step inside.
She squinted her eyes to adjust to the poor illumination, but before she could focus on the smoke-dimmed figures inside she was greeted by a loud chorus of familiar voices.
"Surprise, Miss Logan!" they shouted, sending a wave of shock rippling through her body. Instinctively she took a step back but heard the door click shut. When she spun around in panic she saw John Trask, the massive well-built man standing directly in front of it, with one hand behind him firmly clasped around the doorknob. To her horror he was dressed only in his undershirt and shorts with a lewd grin playing across his face.
"So the female executive is paying a visit to the bedroom," he announced. "I didn't know you mingled socially with the lower classes from the office."
Paula stepped back, her heart pounding wildly in her chest, her throat suddenly dry with fear.
"I. . . I" her voice cracked. As she turned away in panic, her eyes flickered over the figures gathered on the floor by the bed and throughout the room.
She recognized the office boy, Kenny Vernon, kneeling down with a funny looking cigarette dangling from his mouth. His skinny chest stripped bare and his body clad only in socks and undershorts, he was looking at her with a strange vengefulness burning in his eyes, not his usual expression of confused innocence.
"Hey, look everybody!" he mocked. "It's Miss Logan."
Next to him, one arm resting on the mattress of the bed, sat her own secretary, Shelby Crofton, her large out-thrust breasts bolstered by a lacy brassiere and her provocatively swelling hips swathed in white silk panties, but nothing else.
For a moment Paula thought she was going to black out. Her eyes darted to and fro, desperately searching for a friendly face. They lighted on another salesman, Adam March, on two young junior executives and on a long lithe female whom she didn't recognize at all and who was reclining casually naked on the carpet as if nothing fazed her. But without exception, everyone from the office was staring at her in cold stony silence, muted cruelty visible in their eyes.
The atmosphere of the room was so tense Paula could almost feel the invisible vibrations of hatred being focused on her. And then she sighted the strange checkered tablecloth draped over an object by the bed. It was so out of place, she didn't know what to make of it.
"Miss Logan is looking for some slides," Rod announced finally.
Paula could feel her cheeks burning with rage, and she struggled desperately to control herself. She dare not say anything now. She had to find a way out of this horrible trap.
"Maybe we can help her look, Rick," the voluptuous young Shelby offered sarcastically.
"Yeah sure, we'll give you a hand," Kenny Vernon chimed as the older woman stood frozen in horror in the middle of the room.
"Thanks," Rod said jovially, turning toward the dresser as the two others came to join him.
"What do they look like, Rick?" Shelby asked as she kneeled down and pulled out the bottom drawer, her eyes flashing a shifty glance at her frightened female boss.
"Oh, just some slides. You know, they're in a plastic case, that's all."
"Are they color slides?" Kenny asked.
"Yeah," Rod said, "just regular color slides, you know, I'm sure they're around somewhere. Hey, Paula, why don't you help us look for them?"
"It's-it's all right, it's n-not important," she said helplessly.
"Sure it is, you wanted them right away," Rod contradicted her.
"N-no, please. Don't look for them now. J-just find them some other time." She looked toward the door, desperately seeking a means of escape, but Trask was still there planted squarely in front of it. The other people in the room, the young secretaries and advertising men were all watching the scene with a curious interest now, though they didn't know exactly what was going on yet. They knew something was going to happen though and in a moment it did.
"Maybe they're here," Shelby Crofton suggested. Before anyone knew what she was doing the drugged brunette leaned over toward the object draped by the tablecloth and yanked the cover off with a dramatic gesture. The slide projector mounted on the table with casters was suddenly revealed to Paula's incredulous eyes.
"Oh God!" she gasped.
"Well, look at that," Rod said. "Maybe those are the slides in there."
"N-no, please!" Paula suddenly cried out, realizing at last what his trap was. He was determined to humiliate her in front of her co-workers, and there was no way out. She tried to lunge toward the projector, but Rod stepped in front of her.
"Somebody put the lights out. We're gonna have a little slide show," he announced as he held her wrists tightly together and forced her toward the bed.
Instantly the lights were out, and an excited murmur filled the room. Paula tried to struggle away from her captor but found herself being abruptly forced down on the mattress.
"No, don't please! Please don't show them!" she begged him, but she could see the look of vengeful pleasure in her own secretary's eyes as Shelby settled behind the projector and aimed it at an empty space on the opposite white wall by the door.
Paula struggled to break free but Newton was immediately up behind her on the bed, sliding his arms tightly through hers, locking them in place and holding her body in a half-kneeling position so that she could do nothing but look at the illuminated square on the wall.
"Go ahead, roll them," he commanded, as Paula clenched her eyes tightly shut, trying to blot out what she knew was going to come, but to her surprise a roar of laughter greeted the first slide. It was a photo of a view which Rod had shot on his vacation during the summer.
"Look!" Rod prodded her. "Take a good look." Fearfully, Paula opened her eyes, saw what the others had been laughing about and let out a deep sigh of relief.
He loosened his grip on her slightly. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
A confused buzz of muffled voices traveled through the thick, smoke-filled air.
"Hey, what is this?" John Trask called out. "I thought we were gonna see a real show." Rod grinned inwardly as Paula's mind whirled with confusion. God, he was a horrible sadist. What was he trying to do to her?
The slides flashed on in rapid succession: landscapes, beach scenes, photos of Ulanda, the model, and then a shot of a blue Datsun parked on the shoulder of a driveway by, a football field. It went by so quickly that Paula barely had time to gasp. Two shots of a lighthouse flashed on the wall and then a further shot of a woman in dark glasses inside the car.
"Please, please don't show them. God, no!" Paula gasped in anguished horror.
"You haven't seen anything yet, baby!" Rod whispered in her ear from behind as his arms circled around her waist and slowly began to travel up toward her white fleshy tits. Paula's heart was beating crazily inside her chest, and her eyes were wide open now as though she were witnessing her own execution.
The next slide brought a titillated whisper from the drug-stimulated office workers who were avidly watching the presentation. It was a close-up of the attractive blonde woman in the car with the top three buttons of her blouse undone, the tight cleavage of her proudly swelling breasts tantalizingly revealed. Paula held her breath in tense anticipation as Newton's hands began kneading and squeezing her breasts through the soft crinkly material of her blue dress.
"Oh God, what do you want from me?" she squealed in helpless frustration.
"Nothing yet, just watch the pictures."
They began to flash on the wall like horrible memories from her past, every lurid detail illuminated in front of her and the people who worked with her...
. . . the abandoned blonde-haired woman reclining on the car seat, her legs spread wide apart, her fingertips caressing the frilly crotch band of her white panties.
Then in rapid succession: the young brown-haired boy crawling into the car seat with her, his pants down, her fingers massaging his swollen little boy-cock, the boy bending forward, her fingers guiding his cock against the glistening material of her panty silk.
God, it was a nightmare, a nightmare! She couldn't stand it any more. "Stop! Stop!" the shamed woman cried out desperately, trying to break loose from her tormentor who tightened his vise-like grip on her arms for a brief second.
The light from the slide projector suddenly flickered off, and the soft room lights went on, casting a fantasy-like haze over the bedroom. All Paula could see were the dim outlines of faces she knew contorted in lust, strange whisperings being exchanged between them; the firefly glow of marijuana cigarettes being lit; and then before she knew it, Kenny Vernon standing by the edge of the bed facing her as Rod held her tightly in place.
Frantically, she twisted her head to one side to avoid looking into the teenager's vengeance-twisted face. His eyes were filled with lust as he moved closer toward her.
"So, Miss Logan ain't any better than the rest of us," he sneered viciously.
"That's right," Rod grinned. "Except Miss Logan-likes to flash her panties to teenage boys. Come on, Miss Logan, show everyone your panties. Kenny'll like that. He's still a teenager."
"N-no God, don't make me do this," she squealed helplessly, but it was too late as Rod firmly grasped her shoulders, forced them backward onto the mattress and pinned them to the bed with his knees. One knee on either side of her head, he reached forward for the hem of her dress skirt and drew it up over her thighs as she kicked out wildly with her legs. She was powerless to resist as her panties were mercilessly exposed to the hate-filled teenager in front of her.
"Come on, somebody hold her legs," he commanded, and immediately Shelby grasped one ankle while Adam March grabbed the other.
Kenny sank down on his knees at the foot of the bed, tightly grasped her squirming thighs and, stretching her legs flat on the bed, buried his head between them. Shit, he was really going to enjoy this, he thought to himself, after all the crap Miss Logan had given him. It was even better than the thought of fucking Shelby. His tongue began a slow circulating motion against her panty silk wedging it ever so slightly between the tiny lips of her cunt until he could feel the first droplets of moisture seeping down from deep in her loins. Tiny tingling sensations raced through his marijuana-drugged body as the fearfully trembling career girl jerked against the sudden lewd contact.
"Oh God, please let me go!" Paula wailed, struggling hopelessly against the hands that held her legs splayed wide apart, against the knees that pinned down her shoulders.
"Not on your life," Rod growled down at her as he pressed hard on her shoulders to keep her from moving. At the same time the young office boy's tongue began burrowing even deeper between her pussy-lips, pushing her panty crotch band before it.
Her legs jerked and strained wildly against the teenager's hands tightly clasped around her legs, but it was hopeless. There was no way to escape the horrible humiliation she was being subjected to, and her head began to spin from the combination of her fear and the liquor she had consumed. The hazy thickness of the heavy marijuana smoke made the room waver in front of her eyes as though everything was part of a dream. She saw the mirage-like figure of the young blonde boy suddenly draw his head out from between her legs and stand up in front of her, then slowly begin pulling his shorts off his legs, a weird unearthly smile crossing his face. She watched in horror as he dropped them and his young eager cock sprang out hard and stiff, threatening her like a menacing spear. God, it was so large for a young boy, she thought to herself in spite of her struggle to break free.
The freckle faced teenager grinned at her and then whispered hoarsely.
"I've been waiting for this for a long time, Miss Logan. Now it's my turn to give you orders. Get up on your knees."
"Nooooo, nooooooo!" Paula rasped as the youngster began stroking the swollen bulbous head of his cock. Newton behind her raised up her shoulders and struggled to pin her arms behind her before she could break loose. He was having trouble until John Trask suddenly emerged from the fog of the crowded room and began stripping off his own underwear.
A moment later the burly businessman was up on the bed behind the captive woman, taking over from Rod Newton who willingly relinquished the job just to get a better view of his rival's humiliation.
Trask's ferocious hands clamped around the helpless woman's waist and turned her over, planting her up on her knees, with her ass-cheeks facing him. She lurched forward to escape but found she could only assume a pushup position, her out-stretched arms supporting the top half of her body as Trask locked her buttocks against his loins.
"Noooooo," she screamed savagely. "Let me go, let me go!"
"Not until you suck that boy's cock," the businessman grinned brutally, his own cock throbbing against her quivering ass-cheeks through her dress.
God, she was trapped now, hopelessly caught from behind while in front of her the young teenager's cock stood poised like a spear ready to penetrate the depths of her mouth.
"We want to see you perform now, just like you did with those two little kids," Newton growled at her as he stood next to the teenager, with the slides which he had just removed from the projector in his hand. He shifted them from hand to hand as though they were playing cards, grinning at her sadistically. "You put on a good show and you'll get these slides back, all of them."
"No, no, I won't," she whimpered helplessly, but Trask suddenly hiked up the hem of her skirt, doubled it up over the small of her back and wedged his throbbing male hardness between her panty covered ass-cheeks.
"Ooooooh God!" she moaned at the sudden harsh pressure. In front of her the teenage office boy's eyes lit up gleefully at his female boss's helpless position and he suddenly grasped the long thick locks of her golden hair, pulling her head forward.
"Suck my cock!" he commanded in a deep masculine voice the humiliated older woman had never heard from him before. She closed her eyes in bitter submission, still determined she would not go through with this without a fight. Bravely, she clenched her teeth tight as the soft rubbery cock-head of Kenny Vernon's cock slipped in between her resisting lips.
"Suck it!" he commanded her again, this time louder, and yanked her head forward. Her eyes opened wide in horror so that she could see the rigid slender shaft disappearing slowly into her mouth. God, it seemed incredibly long, much too long for a teenage boy! She hesitated a moment, sickened by the thought of being made to do such a lewd thing with a mere office boy.
But by this time she felt herself being nudged from the back as the ad man thrust his hips forward against her panty-swathed buttocks. As she suddenly gasped from the unexpected propulsion from behind the eagerly pulsing pole of male flesh in front rammed even deeper into the moist cavern of her mouth.
She could feel the glans of the lewdly inflated head sliding wetly up the full length of her tongue inside, tiny droplets of lubricating fluid seeping from it to fill the warm cavern between her cheeks with its pungent salty taste. The teenager's sinewy white hips began a slow undulating motion, his thickly inflamed young cock sliding in and out of her mouth with a wet sucking sound guided by his hands gripped tightly in her hair.
Trask grinned from behind as he poised his pulsating rigid cock against the tautened silk of her panties, ready to shove it forward in between her ass-cheeks when he was good and ready. His grin widened with each grunt the office boy made ramming into the office tyrant's helplessly trapped face. He began running his rugged hands over her panties, caressing the cool silken material, sliding the frilly elastic together so that it wedged in the crevice of her buttocks. God, this snotty bitch was really getting what she deserved now. His fingers kneaded the rounded contours of her ass-moons hungrily as he watched the office boy's distended young cock sawing into her helpless mouth.
Paula could feel the ad man's hands in back roaming over the tops of her thighs and her ass-cheeks and in front she could see the small blonde tufts of pubic hair curling out around the base of Kenny Vernon's virile young boy-cock. God, she wanted to get it over with as quickly as she could. Reluctantly she began to suck, running her tongue wetly around and around the wetly lubricated cock head and flicking the tip teasingly into the tiny open slit of the moist glans until she could feel it throbbing as though it had a life of its own and would erupt any minute in a great fountain of gushing sperm.
Her tortured mind droned on senselessly, the very helplessness of her position excusing away the weird masochistic sensations rising erotically in her belly. Her head bobbed up and down slavishly over the obscenely impaling shaft of flesh, sucking to end it now, sucking to draw the thick milky semen from it until she killed this impudent young man's lust.
Kenny groaned and twisted above her, gasping obscenities and watching with contorted delight the oval-shaped lips straining at his cock. Behind her, Trask began playing at Paula's kneeling form like a sex-crazed fiend, running his hands brutally over the milk-while softness of her hips, twisting and squeezing the flesh until small red welts began to appear wherever they touched. Groaning, he pushed her hem farther up along her back and pressed his lips against her spine, tracing a path that sent shivers running to the tips of her heavy still-clothed tits. His hands descended down to the elastic waistband of her panties and yanked it down over her ass.
"Aaaaaaaaagh, noooooo!" Paula tried to protest, but the cock driving deep into her mouth muffled her cry into a vain unintelligible sound.
Moistening the tip of his middle finger, Trask slowly glided it up in between her naked ass-cheeks, his other fingers rippling over her wetly moistened pubic hairs. The tip of his finger began circling lightly around the tight nether ring of her anus, and then with a sudden thrust sank deep up inside.
Paula jerked forward from the unexpected digging pain and Kenny thrust up again, impaling her mouth more fully on his saliva-moistened cock-shaft until she felt as though it would choke her to death. She gagged slightly at the startling entry, struggling to regain her breath. It came in a great gasping sound as she sucked in from the pressure of the finger digging deep up into her defenseless rectum.
Mewls of pained protest escaped from around the tight sucking oval of her lips as he dug in harder and harder, expanding her rectum until she thought she would faint from the agony of the cruel probe. Her concentration on her skewered anus was short-lived as she felt a sudden tightening of the hands holding her head down on Kenny's tirelessly pummeling cock.
The drug-incited youth's pelvis began jerking wildly, ramming his achingly stiffened member deeper and deeper up into his boss's submissively sucking mouth. She could feel it throbbing against the warm slimy inside of her cheeks and knew this was it. This mere office boy was going to cum in her mouth; the ultimate humiliation was now being forced on her!
But she wanted to get it over with. She wanted to end the degradation that would take her one step closer to the photographs in Rod Newton's possession, because she knew those photographs could follow her anywhere she went, even after she had long departed from Bennett Advertising Company. It wasn't just her resignation Newton wanted, she realized, it was her body and soul. He wanted to humiliate her because she was a woman who had dared to take a man's job. She sucked hungrily, her mouth salivating as it never had before, as Trask behind pulled and stretched the tight puckered ring of her anus with his middle finger.
Kenny groaned above her flailing head and rammed deep up into her throat. Then suddenly his cock began a jerking motion as, with a savage vengeance, it spewed the hot jets of his cum deep up into her throat.
Paula groaned and continued sucking, her Adam's apple bobbing in rapid rhythm as she swallowed the gushing sperm that squirted hotly into the working moistness of her mouth. She clasped her lips in a tight elastic ring around the furiously squirting male instrument, swirling her tongue around and around its throbbing head. She wanted to suck it dry, to hurt him for the bitter humiliation he was forcing upon her. His groan of pleasure, mistaken by her for pain, incited her to greater effort. It continued for almost an eternity, and she thought it would never end until finally the hands clamped on the sides of her head fell away and the emptying cock gave one last spurt of its depleted seminal fluid and stopped.
The finger in Paula's expanded rectum popped out and the burly old man behind her pushed her gruffly forward.
"Lick him clean," he commanded hoarsely.
The humiliated career woman followed his command quickly, anxious to end it all. She began at the base where the tiny tufts of the teenager's pubic hair protruded and began to lick around it, twirling the tip of her tongue into the thin sticky streams that had escaped the sucking vacuum of her lips. She could feel its satiated limpness jerking slightly under the teasing ministrations and licked avidly to complete her degrading task before Kenny's cock sprang to life again.
"Oh wow!" the blonde office boy shrank back, his eyes glazed with amazement. The athletic businessman behind her grinned, a cruel twinkled sparkling in his eye.
"You're not finished yet, Miss know-it-all," he sneered down at her as she buried her head in her hands on the mattress.
From the other room, Paula could hear the frantic pounding of the music from the stereo, and right here all around her she could sense the fascinated eyes of the office workers gloating in her humiliation.
God, what have I ever done to them? What have I done to deserve this? But as these thoughts whirled through her mind, the ad man behind her suddenly gripped the little elastic band of her panties suspended between the tops of her thighs and crudely yanked them down to just above her knees.
"No, don't take my panties off, please noooooo," his helpless victim wailed bitterly.
"Don't worry, Miss Logan," Trask sneered. "I just want to get a better shot at that tight little ass of yours."
Before she could resist, he clamped her tightly around the waist and pulled her ass-cheeks back toward the menacing thick shaft of his huge cock. Still clad below the waist in her garter belt, stockings and high heels, she jumped at the sudden contact with her vulnerably naked buttocks.
"G-god no, not there, not there!" she pleaded desperately, straining as she pushed up with her arms to brace herself.
"Why not, baby?" Trask cracked. "You've shafted everybody else up the ass. Now it's your turn."
Paula couldn't believe it was about to happen. Wasn't it enough that they had humiliated her by making her suck the office boy's cock? Now there was going to be a further humiliation. This crude ad man was going to fuck her in the ass while all the secretaries and office workers looked on. God, it was too much to bear!
Desperately, she clenched her legs and buttocks together in automatic reaction to the horrible thought. God, it would kill her to have a huge man-cock penetrate her there.
"Man what a nice little ass our lady executive has," she heard Trask crooning behind her. "I'm gonna love this."
Through the haze of bitter sensations that enveloped her the blackmailed blonde felt his powerful hands drawing her ass-cheeks apart. She tried to hold them together but the pressure of his thumbs inserted in her innermost crevice was too great. They were cruelly stretched away from each other until she could feel the cool air rushing into the hot interior between her legs.
"It's too tight," he gloated from his kneeling position. "Better stretch it out a little."
She could feel the tip of his finger again at the entrance of her naked rectum, and she clenched the puckered tiny folds tight in a feverish effort to stop the cruel penetration she knew was coming.
For a moment he probed the outer edges of the small elastic circle and then moved forward with a grin, sinking his finger with a jerk up to the first knuckle. Paula jumped from the anticipated pain that was, in fact, not as keen as she'd thought it would be. It was still stretched from his obscene prodding while she had sucked Kenny Vernon a few moments ago. She relaxed slightly until suddenly she felt the extra pressure of another finger ram unexpectedly in alongside the first. It hurt this time, and she jerked forward to escape its painful entry, her body moving a few inches up the bed, groaning as she did so.
"God, no, it hurts!" Tears of pain and humiliation ran from her cheeks again. God, he was really going to make love to her there in front of all these people! This was the ultimate degradation and surrender. She opened her eyes and saw the leering gazes of her co-workers fastened on her, their faces flushed with excitement.
God, she wished she could die rather than go through with this! The degraded woman cringed her buttocks away from her tormentor, but it was useless. He planted the palm of his hand on the small of her back and pushed down tight, his fingers digging cruelly up into her back passage, expanding it mercilessly as he twisted and turned them, preparing her rectum for the coming assault.
As suddenly as he had shoved his fingers in he withdrew them.
They seemed to slip out reluctantly, the elastic ring of her anus clinging to them until they popped out with a slight sucking sound. He forced her legs wider with his knees, dropping his head to her buttocks and licking wetly at the crevice between them, moistening the tiny hole as he prepared for a greater entry.
"Ready now, Miss Business Exec?" he called down at her.
Paula tried desperately to scurry forward on the mattress on her hands and knees, but his hands gripped the tops of her stockinged thighs and pulled her forcefully back. Her buttocks were high in the air now, waving as if in open invitation to the cruel ravishment that was about to begin.
CHAPTER SIX
The big man's knees behind her pushed her legs farther apart, the hair of his legs brushing against the sensual material of her stockings. She was held wide and helpless, completely at his mercy and she bit hard down on her lower lip to keep back the tears of impotent frustration brimming to her eyes.
His hand fastened harshly onto her lips, holding them steady in the air as she felt his thick swollen cock-head impress itself into the moist naked slit of her buttocks. She gasped in surprise from the first contact. It was huge! She could never take that in her rectum without her belly being ripped in half. In fearful panic, the entrapped woman jerked forward again, attempting to move away.
"Hold her!" Trask yelled.
Rick Newton's hands suddenly reached out and pinned down her shoulders, holding her against the mattress. She was wide and helpless now before the unnatural onslaught of the man behind her and she could feel his hairy loins and his obscenely searching cock throbbing hard into her upturned rectum.
His hands coursed down over her ass-cheeks, his thumbs pressing either side of the tiny puckered anus, stretching it wide. Then she felt a probing between the thumbs that was soft and rubbery at first and then grew to a hard, unyielding bluntness.
"Pleeeeeese noooooo! It's too big!" she pleaded in a soul-shattering moan as she felt her tightly resisting nether ring giving way before the merciless pressure of his cock-tip popping inside with a jerk.
"Hold her, hold her, that's it Rod!" Trask puffed from behind. "God, it's tight."
She gasped and then groaned again, but the sounds echoed through the room unheeded. There was no one to help her, no one in the world, all that existed was the excruciating torture of her anus being defiled by the beast behind and the cruel hands pressing her shoulders to the bed. There was no escape from the horror and degradation of the depraved attack on her helpless body. The blunt intrusion of his thick throbbing cock vibrated through every fiber of her being, pushing the soft rubbery flesh inside her widely stretched anal passage in great waves of pain before it, filling her belly ceaselessly as though she were being impaled on the trunk of a giant oak by the barbarians of old.
She moaned in submission, her eyes opened wide in torment until suddenly she felt the coarse hair of his loins grinding against the softness of her buttocks, the cruelly ravaging cock thickness buried to the hilt. She groaned in anguish, hung on the end of the stone-hard cock like a pig on a giant roasting spit.
The ad man behind her gasped with sadistic pleasure and began to saw rhythmically and without mercy deep up into the agony-racked depths of her back passage, bringing further sobs of pain and misery from her lips. She had never felt so soiled and debauched in her life, and her whole rectum felt seared and used as Trask levered up on his knees and began to plunge the full length of his punishing male-cock back and forth into her with long smooth strokes. It pulled tiny ridges of her tender inner flesh out with the base of his cock as it withdrew for another vicious lunge up inside.
She was aware of Newton chuckling to himself and pushing down hard on her shoulders with each thrust the lewdly rampaging cock made into her from behind, trapping her servile body between the skewering hardness plowing into her anus and the hands holding her in front. Her body jerked and quivered, and her thighs periodically convulsed as an extra hard forward movement seared into her tortured rectal passage.
She could hear the ad man's grunts of lust floating through the room around them and hated herself for the pleasure it was bringing him. In spite of her pain she clasped her anal muscles tightly together trying to rip the plunging column of his relentless cock flesh from his body.
"Aaaaaaaaagh, God it's tight!" he groaned, throwing his head back in ecstasy caused by the warmly clasping nether folds enveloping it.
She couldn't permit this indecent sodomizing of her rectum to continue much longer. The humiliation was too great. She had to end it, she had to. She began to move backward to meet the forward lunge of his cock, undulating her body and swinging her buttocks in rotating circles, clasping his member tightly with the slight throb of her rectum on the out-stroke. Trask watched with delight as the reddish-pink skin from the obscenely distended hole drew back with his cock and sent spasms of pleasure rippling up his spine.
Rod Newton grinned as he observed the depraved scene unfolding before his eyes. He could see how, in spite of herself, Paula Logan was getting worked up to a savage frenzy just the way she'd been with those young kids she had seduced. And he gloated over it too, for he wanted everyone in the office to see what a slut she really was. He was really getting back at her with a vengeance now!
Paula was amazed to find that, as she began actively thrusting back to meet Trask's powerful strokes, the very realization of the debasing humiliation of her position sent shooting jolts of masochistic delight coursing through her veins. She had to play her servile role to the hilt. She had to make him shoot his obscene cum up into her ass-hole!
He could see her head buried in the mattress, the long locks of her blonde hair lashing from shoulder to shoulder as she gasped and moaned in the throes of orgasm. She bucked and churned her body against the ad man mounted behind her, mewling and groaning, encouraging him with the motions of her ass to end it all. Trask, who sensed her sudden frantic need, began to ram rapidly up into her, hard and deep, battering her quivering ass with his pelvis. He gripped the tops of her thighs with his fingers, squeezing with all his strength to pull her back over his expanding cock as though he were slipping a sleeve over an oversize arm. His eyes bulged wide at the spectacle of her abandoned young body bucking before him, and the sadistic desire to hurt rippled through him as he jogged forward with a mighty thrust that seared up her cruelly stretched anus like fire.
"Aaaaaaaggghhhhhh!" she groaned helplessly as he flicked deeper again.
With the last half-groan, half-scream, Paula could feel in her agony the impaling tormenting staff begin to grow and expand until she thought it would never stop. It was killing her-it was stretching her muscles beyond all human endurance.
"Oh God cum, for God's sake cum!" she gasped in weirdly combined pain and masochistic pleasure as she fucked back wildly at him.
He moaned above her, incoherent words sputtering from his lips, and shoved forward with a thundering thrust that almost tore through the walls of her quivering belly as he exploded his hot thick cum in wave after wave up into the depths of her rectum.
She knelt abjectly in front of him, buttocks still waving high in the air, and pressed back against his hairy loins as he poured his sperm deep inside her anal passage, filling her soft rectum to the bursting point with warm sticky wetness. The satiated ad man groaned with delight and collapsed over her body, flattening her to the bed. After a while the blackmailed woman felt his weight lifting from her and the softness of his deflated cock slipping out with a wet sucking noise from the confines of her flooded, forever expanded anus.
She felt wet and slightly sore there but nothing like what she had experienced at the beginning. There was nothing left now. Her fellow workers had debauched and humiliated her beyond all belief. But this was only the beginning. Through the dream-like haze of the dimly lit room she could see her own secretary crawl up on the bed and with a look of hateful revenge burning in her eyes, suddenly rip the zipper of Paula's dress down her back. At that point of exhaustion, the abused older woman barely resisted as the expensive garment was slipped off her shoulders, yanked down over her waist, and torn from her legs.
"That's it, Miss Logan," the drugged brunette vixen crooned in a throaty voice. "Let's take all your nice little clothes off."
"No, don't do this to me!" The female executive pleaded in vain for mercy. But there was none to be had, as her drug-crazed co-workers crudely pulled her slip over her head. Desperately she tried to reach down to pull her panties up, but her arms were suddenly pinned to the mattress and she was laid flat on her back. Someone's hands slid between her shoulders and the bed, undid her brassiere snap, and slid the straps down off her shoulders.
Her mind was so beaten and battered now that she hardly knew what to do when Shelby Crofton suddenly kneeled between her legs.
"You're going to enjoy this, Miss Logan. I'll bet you've never been fucked by a grown-up girl before," she hissed vengefully.
The young brunette's knees splayed Paula's legs wide apart and she lowered her own panty-cloaked vagina down on top of her boss's naked pussy.
"Look, Miss Logan, I've got panties, too," she crooned as she began to rub her pussy wildly against the other woman's.
"God, no, not this!" Paula squealed helplessly at the obscene lesbian act she was being forced to submit to.
Her mind began to spin crazily as though she were tumbling head over heels into a deep chamber of horrors. Harsh masculine hands seized her voluptuous tit and began to caress her nipples until they grew hard and rigid with unwanted excitement. The young secretary slipped her fingers through Paula's garter straps and began to move the older woman's legs in an outward splaying rhythm.
"We've got you now, Miss Logan," the voices seemed to be screaming in chorus. "It's our turn to have fun now."
The voices grew in volume, rang and shouted in her ears as her body began to spasm and undulate. Her mind floated away from her body as hands rubbed and kneaded her abused pussy tweaked her nipples, and pulled savagely at her hair. Then as suddenly as her perverted rape had begun, Shelby Crofton dismounted from between Paula's legs only to be replaced by the naked body of one of the other businessmen.
His massive loins crushed her against the mattress, and she could feel the thickly huge palpitating shaft of his cock penetrating suddenly right up into the depths of her cunt. She twitched and spasmed, her body jerking with overwhelming pulsations of unwanted desire. The room began to spin, the voices faded like the sound of tinkling glasses, and without knowing what she was doing she wrapped her stocking-sheathed legs around the ad man's naked body, squeezing and releasing her thighs around his ass as he pumped his hugely throbbing cock relentlessly up into her pussy. The rampaging hardness rippled through the velvet moisture of her savagely aroused cunt like a rocket blasting off into space, and then she heard a voice from somewhere wailing.
"Fuck me, fuck me, you bastards!" Somewhere deep in her mind she realized it was her own voice, but it didn't matter now. Everything was lost. There was nothing left but the savage obscenity of being fucked until she could not stand it any more, of hands brutally squeezing her nipples, fingers gliding deep up into her rectum and prying her ass-cheeks apart.
"Oooooooooh God, cum all over me, you bastards!" she panted, the tendons in her neck bulging like steel rods, her head flailing from side to side.
From his position by the foot of the bed, Rod Newton watched the lewd goings-on with brutal glee. He was the victor now. Paula Logan would never show up in the office again after the humiliation she had suffered.
He watched her wedge shoes dig into the ad man's back as her body jerked and gyrated, trying to squeeze every last rigid inch of his cock deep up into the hotly clasping walls of her pussy. He listened with delight to her savage cries of delirious lust as she gritted her teeth together and raked her fingernails over the other man's sweating flesh.
And as Rod watched, he slowly began to strip off his own clothes. He was going to enjoy his office rival's cunt one last time before she left the city in humiliation. God, he'd beaten her now. She was finished. No woman was going to take his job away from him. And in spite of the way she was performing now, he was never going to return those photographs to her. He was going to save them for the ultimate triumph over her.
On Monday morning Paula Logan called in sick for the first time in her career with Bennett Advertising Company. On Tuesday she did it for the second time, and during both days her empty office was the object of intense gossip among the young secretaries, office hands, and junior executives as they passed by.
Except for these occasional whisperings, an air of stillness pervaded the office, for by now almost everyone knew what had happened at Rod Newton's party on Friday night, and almost everyone was waiting to see what Would happen when Miss Logan returned to work.
Everyone, that is, except Xavier Bennett who, being the boss, had no idea what was going on. From time to time he would emerge from his office and remark how quiet everything seemed to be. On Tuesday he strode up to Shelby Crofton's typing desk and inquired as to Miss Logan's whereabouts.
"Sick again? That's strange, I can't remember Miss Logan ever losing a day of work before," Xavier Bennett muttered in his absent way.
Shelby Crofton and Kenny Vernon could barely keep from bursting out laughing, and as the president returned to his office he couldn't help overhearing their muffled giggles. This strange behavior was still a mystery to him, and he knew there was something behind it. For some reason it seemed to be connected with Paula Logan's absence, and he would certainly like to know why.
He also wondered why it had to be his female assistant who was out sick instead of someone else-like Rod Newton. This was just the time he needed that high-powered brain of hers to work with the client in setting up the promotion campaign for the clients products.
Paula Logan was one hell of a woman all right. Even the client had said she'd provided a fresh outlook on promoting the new product. On top of that, her statistical work was always accurate and flawless. The only problem with Paula, he'd noted many times, was her inability to handle people-if she could just be a little bit looser, a little more friendly, she would have it made in the business world or anywhere else for that matter.
In fact, the fifty five year old widower mused, if she'd just loosen up she would make an ideal companion for someone like him. He'd been thinking about that a lot lately and came to the conclusion that he needed to be around someone as intelligent and beautiful as that young lady.
True, her personality was a little stiff, but those short dresses she wore more than made up for it. By God, they made him feel like he was twenty years old again looking at her, and there were times when he couldn't stand up from his desk for fear of revealing the thick bulge in his pants.
You know something, Xavier, you might just give her a whirl, he was telling himself more and more often and, for the first time in years, ever since his wife had died, he began to feel vital again. For the first time he had something to look forward to other than things connected with the business. Now stop dreaming, Xavier old boy, he chided himself. You're fifty five years old, and you've got a lot of work to do today. With that, he briskly snapped on the intercom and called for Miss Crofton.
"Miss Crofton," he said when she entered. "I'd like you to take this to Mr. Newton and tell him I want a detailed report of his campaign for the Hansen Company."
"Yes, Mr. Bennett," Shelby replied, and took the file folder he handed her.
Bennett exhaled deeply and hoped for the best. This kind of work was really more up Paula's alley than Rod's. He hoped that for once Newton could get his figures straight.
Inadvertently, the graying industrialist had forgotten to switch off the intercom and overheard the following conversation between the young dark-haired secretary and his male marketing analyst:
"Thanks, Shelby baby," he heard Newton say. "I'll start working on this little package after I get a couple of cups of coffee."
"You better do a good job," Shelby warned him. "This is the old man's pride and joy."
"Now you're beginning to sound like Miss Business cunt. If there's one thing I don't need it's another female nag like her. I took care of that bitch, and I don't need a replacement."
"We all did," Shelby giggled. "Do you think she'll ever show up here again?"
At that, Xavier Bennett leaned forward and began listening intently to the eavesdropped conversation over the intercom. It was curious all right, but it only served to further confuse him about the unusually quiet atmosphere of the office in recent days.
"No," he could hear Rod Newton saying. "I think she's got her bags packed. At least that's what I'd do if I were in her position."
"She's really got brass balls if she does show up here again."
The conversation drifted away amid shuffling of papers, and Bennett flicked off the intercom switch. Now he was really puzzled. It sounded as though the whole office had ganged up on his favorite young executive in some way or another. But what had they done to make her stay away from the office for two days, for now he realized she wasn't sick at all.
The puzzling mystery plagued him until four-thirty in the afternoon when he began going through the late inter-office mail. He sifted through the usual memos and reports that filled the wire basket on his desk until he came to an unusual unmarked white envelope sealed with Scotch tape. The curious thing about the envelope was that there didn't seem to be a letter or note of any sort inside it, but rather a small hard rectangular objects stacked together.
Mystified by it, he slit open the Scotch tape, tore up the flap and removed a stack of ten color slides. Now what in the hell was this? he wondered as he glanced at them, still not connecting them in any way with Paula Logan.
It was not until he had held each one of them up to the light and examined them carefully that he added up two and two. And when he did he practically fell off his chair. What the slides showed was practically impossible to believe-they were all pictures of a tall attractive woman slumped down in the seat of a car with her legs lewdly spread apart.
There were unimaginably filthy pictures of this same woman with her hands wrapped around the stiff young cock of an innocent teenage boy. It was unmistakable that this woman was seducing the boy, and it was equally unmistakable that this very woman was one of his favored employees, Paula Logan.
Bennett went through the slides again and again, a strange kind of excitement pulsing through his body. The hair was a different style but the same color. The expression on the face was that of a tempting seductress, but the face sure enough belonged to Paula Logan. My God, she'd been leading a double life all along.
Never in the world had he expected anything like this. If there had been one person he deemed beyond reproach it would have been Paula Logan-now this evidence in front of his eyes was telling him exactly the opposite.
For several moments the handsome middle-aged executive sank back in his chair and simply stared at the wall. So this was what that scoundrel Newton had been talking to Shelby Crofton about!
This was the reason Paula hadn't shown up at work. Someone had blackmailed her, someone who was obviously jealous of a woman rising to a high position at Bennett Advertising Co. That shiftless Newton!
At the same time as the slides had shaken him to the core, the advertising executive found himself titillated by them, and after restraining himself for a good five minutes, held them up to the light and reviewed them again, one by one. He could barely believe that his prim and proper female executive could be so highly sexual. The expression of raw lust on her face as she grasped the young boy's cock in her hand almost made him tremble, and he felt his own cock awakening in his pants. In fact, his hand was even shaking slightly when he picked up the receiver and began dialing her phone number, which he had got from the address book on his desk. The phone rang five times, and when the young business woman finally answered it she spoke in a voice that her boss barely recognized. It was hollow and hoarse and sounded very old.
"Paula, how are you feeling?" Bennett asked pleasantly in a buoyant tone of voice.
"Not very well, Mr. Bennett," came the reply. "Not very well at all."
"I hope it isn't the flu."
"No, Mr. Bennett." Paula sighed wearily, making no effort to disguise the terribly depressed state she was in. "It's not the flu."
"Well, I think I know what it is," her boss said sympathetically in his gruff masculine voice. "You're down in the dumps. It happens to the best of us, and there's only one way to get out of them."
"I'm-I'm afraid it's more complicated than that," Paula said slowly.
"Nonsense," Bennett reprimanded her. "I'm going to cure you tonight. I want you to be ready for dinner at seven. We'll go to Pierre's."
"B-But," Paula tried to protest.
"But nothing. I'll see you at seven on the dot," he said commandingly and hung up the receiver.
True to his word, Xavier Bennett arrived at Paula's doorstep at seven sharp and entered her apartment like a cheerful Santa Claus.
"Well, you certainly don't look very ill," he greeted her buoyantly as he eyed her ravishingly clad figure sheathed in a dark evening dress. "You know something Paula, you're a beautiful woman, you really are."
He gazed admiringly at her long flowing blonde hair, her deep-set eyes and the roundly swelling mounds of her firm tits beneath the low-cut top of her dress. In spite of his own forced attempt at gaiety Bennett noted the look of wistful sadness of her eyes, and for the first time he could see her as a vulnerable cameo of feminine beauty, rather than just a pretty, efficient career-girl type. She was wonderfully beautiful tonight, he thought to himself, in spite of the images that ran through his mind from the damning photographs. He was blissfully unaware that Paula had consented to this rendezvous only to inform him of her resignation.
As her host escorted her to his car he felt alive with electric vitality. He felt like a young man again that night.
Especially when he took in the admiring glances of the well-heeled businessmen gathered around the tables of Pierre's. They began whispering among themselves as he led his ravishing escort to the best table in the house and seated her with pride.
Paula, for her part, began to feel her spirits rise in spite of herself. She had given up all hope that Rod Newton would refrain from showing her boss the incriminating slides he had taken, and now, ironically, she hardly cared. Her career at Bennett was finished anyway because of what had happened at his apartment, and at the moment she felt a strange freedom she had never experienced before.
The worst that had happened was over, and she was free to find herself a new career where, with her brains and drive, she could succeed equally well. Moreover, she had firmly resolved to control the hateful compulsion that had led her to expose her panties to young unsuspecting boys. She had finally seen the sordid results of that obsession once it had been discovered by someone else, and she never wanted to live through the harrowing experiences of the past few days again.
The meal progressed like a regal feast. Xavier Bennett ordered the most expensive and exotic dishes on the menu, commanded the best wines, and pronounced their names with a perfect French accent. He was truly a man who knew how to handle himself, and her admiration for him grew by leaps and bounds.
By the time coffee and cognac came around for the last course, Paula could feel herself growing mellow, though still haunted by the shame of what had happened during the weekend. Her boss, sensing her deeply troubled mood, reached across the table and touched her hand.
"I hope you've enjoyed this tonight, Paula," Bennett said. "I know I certainly have. I haven't enjoyed myself as much in years."
"I have, Mr. Bennett, I really have," Paula smiled back quietly.
"Call me Xavier, Paula." His hand squeezed tightly around hers, and as it did so, she could feel herself slipping into a dream world, a pleasant dream world for a change. Mr. Bennett had been almost like a father to her.
After they had finished their coffee she gracefully accepted his invitation to go back to his house in the exclusive area of Chicago.
It was an old house solidly built from stone and with a kind of Victorian elegance inside. The huge living room was covered with rich wall to wall rugs; a crystal chandelier hung suspended from the ceiling; and at each end of the vast room stood two huge fireplaces, faced by large modern couches.
Bennett took his young employee's wrap, hung it up in a closet and returned to offer her a brandy. As she sipped it, he removed his suitcoat, stacked the fireplace with wood chips and thick dry logs, and in a moment had started a roaring fire. Then he settled comfortably into a couch and waved Paula over beside him.
"You know, it's been a long time since I've been out with a charming woman like you. I've kept pretty much to myself since my wife died, but I think I've been mourning long enough. I'd like to do this more often, Paula."
"I-I'm afraid I can't, Xavier. It just wouldn't be right," Paula said shyly.
The middle-aged executive gazed at her curiously and smiled.
"Of course, it's right, I know it is."
Paula looked straight ahead into the fireplace, watching the hypnotic shapes of the flames as soft tears began to well in her eyes.
"I'm afraid you don't know certain things about me," she said painfully, feeling a deep ache inside.
"Nonsense, Paula," Bennett interrupted in his business-like way. He reached into his suit coat on the couch beside him and withdrew the plain white envelope, flashing it before her eyes.
"I know more than you think I know thanks to a certain third party who deserves to be shot."
Paula gasped in surprise and sat forward on the edge of the couch. The horrible uneasiness she had always experienced with Newton before suddenly returned to her. She realized in a flash that the incriminating slides were inside the envelope and thought she could not bear to hear him go on.
"Please," she pleaded. "Don't say it."
"I'm not going to say anything at all Paula. You have nothing to worry about," he reassured her, and with a regal gesture he flung the envelope into the raging fireplace.
Paula rose to her feet as though she could hardly believe what was happening, and tears of relief streamed to her eyes. Xavier Bennett approached her and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her nubile young body close to his.
"The only thing you need," he said, "is a real man to take care of you. Shall we?" he nodded toward the stairway leading to his second floor bedroom, but Paula's body froze in his arms.
"I'd ... I'd love to, Xavier, but I just can't...."
"In other words, you're trying to tell me you can't be satisfied with a man, is that it?" he asked sympathetically.
Paula was on the verge of tears now, the terrible nightmare of what had happened at Newton's apartment flashing through her mind. God, how she wanted to clear her mind, to tell her boss all about the terrible compulsion that had ruled her and ruined her. It didn't matter now, for she knew she could not work for him any longer. She would have to resign in disgrace no matter what happened.
"I don't know, Xavier. I've tried it, believe me. I was engaged once to a very nice young man ... it. . . it just wasn't exciting at all."
"And do you think all men are like that, Paula?"
Her hate for the male sex, for the things that little boys had done to her in the past, for the way that men like Rod Newton had humiliated her, welled up so strongly inside her soul that she couldn't contain it any longer.
"Men are nothing," she hissed at him with sudden violence, watching his face grow red with anger.
"Little boys are better, is that what you're telling me? You mean you can only get your kicks exposing your panties to little boys. . . ? "
"Yes! Yes!" Paula screamed hysterically.
"They're mine, I can control them and tease them! They're in my power."
As he stood in front of the hysterically shouting young woman, Xavier Bennett was struck with a sudden revelation. He realized now that Paula Logan would never respond to gentle treatment from a male, that her mind was geared to being crudely and physically dominated by them, though she would protest this bitterly.
He realized that in her adventures with young boys-as evidenced by the slides he had seen-she was daring them to rebel against power, to dominate her by suddenly ripping her panties away. It was the forbidden expression of untamed male lust, and only this, which unlocked the real secret of her loins.
And realizing this, Bennett suddenly slapped her in the face. He was going to cure her sickness once and for all. Tonight he was going to give her all the crude violent lust that she needed; he was going to break that deep-rooted cycle. Deep inside him he felt an intense attraction to this strange, confused woman. What he was going to do now was only an act, but it was going to be the most convincing role he'd ever played.
Paula reeled back, her hand protectively guarding her burning cheek, her head spinning with disbelief. "N-No," her voice quavered as her boss moved resolutely toward her. "N-No, not you too!"
"You're getting a man this time, Paula, a real man, not just some little boy."
Fiercely, he seized her wrist and yanked her violently protesting body toward the stairway. He struggled mightily with her, dragging her up the stairs, until, once inside the bedroom, he hurled her down on the mattress and tore her dress away from her body.
"Oh God, Xavier, please don't do this!" she whimpered. But her words were blotted out by the sudden "clamping of his mouth over hers as Bennett's body fell heavily on top of her struggling frame.
As the night drew on her moans of protest yielded to plaintive sobs and finally to deep gasps of carnal pleasure.
Xavier was happy, he knew that Paula was going to be the best vice-president his company was ever going to have. To hell with Rod Newton, Paula was here to stay, he would make sure of that. Yes, he would certainly make sure ... Rod Newton arrived and watched Bennett and Paula Logan walk up the stairs at the same time, practically arm in arm.
He had never seen his rival so radiant before. Laughing, smiling, she exchanged jokes with the boss and instead of entering her cubicle, immediately followed him to his office.
The scene was too unbelievable to be true and, possessed by curiosity Newton crept to the locked door at the president's office, intent on eavesdropping regardless of how obvious it would appear to anyone else. When he put his ear against the door he could hear gales of laughter from inside.
"Paula," he could hear Bennett say, "I feel happier now than I've been in a long time."
"Oh Xavier, you've taught me a lesson, all right." Newton's female rival replied. "And the breakfast was delicious."
"Of course, my dear," the patriarch added. "Only the best for my new vice-president."
The shock of those words hit Rod like a fist in the stomach. Numbed, he crept back to his office, stared into space in dumb silence, and finally began writing his letter of resignation in long hand. In spite of his clever and carefully carried out plan, he had failed. He had been beaten by a woman, and one hell of a woman at that.
"So it goes," he sighed to himself as he signed his name at the end of the terse little note.
