The sun shone brightly, as though the gods were smiling, the air sparkled, the Best Man was punctual and sober, the Matron - of - Honor and the bridesmaids in their lovely dresses made a beautiful picture as they clustered around the fabulously beautiful bride - it was, according to everyone's opinion "a beautiful wedding!"
There was an added feeling for celebration, which made for an extra fillip to the special occasion. The groom, Robert "Bud" Pearson, III, had also just been made the new District Attorney. This was truly a feather in his cap, because, in spite of his young age, he had had very stiff competition, and he had defeated the incumbent, a man who had held the position for many years, by a very healthy margin.
Robert, or "Bud", as he was sometimes called by his closest friends, had been going with Wendy practically as long as they could remember.
She was tiny and dark, in a piquant, lady - like way - a true miniature lady. Wendy had gone with him all through high school, and waited patiently while he finished Law School, going herself to a fashionable "Finishing School for Young Ladies" where she spent a lot of her time fending off would - be daters, and just ordinary guys on - the - make. She knew from the start that she wanted to marry Robert, and he had the same idea. That didn't stop a lot of other guys from trying, though. Who could blame them, when she was the prettiest girl in town, and so sexy in a lady - like way? It wasn't really all that long, it only seemed like it to Wendy and Robert. They were both still very young and enthusiastic, with plenty of time to enjoy life.
Wendy had helped in her fiance's campaign, of course, and it had been a hard fight. In some ways, Robert's youth and lack of political experience had been against him, but in the final analysis, it had really helped him. The people were tired of the same, old tired speeches, and motheaten proverbs. Robert gave them new ideas and new thoughts, the ideas and thoughts of youth.
Unfortunately both he and his bride had been brought up in the strictest of moral and religious codes. They had done a great deal of necking in the summers between college terms, and once, last year, Wendy had got so hot she could hardly contain herself. Robert was nearly in as bad a way. And all that was just from some hot wet kisses, a squeeze of Robert's hand on her breasts and before she knew it, she had squirmed her dress up to her waist and Robert's hand was under it, fondling her hot little pussy. They had both pulled back, though, conditioned to behave in a 'proper manner', and panting, and gasping had driven home to lie in their separate beds and dream of when they would be married. To Robert, a woman's body was sacred, especially Wendy's, and he would never take it until it was condoned by 'society'.
But now they were finally married. Everything was legal and sanctioned. They were not extravagant on their honeymoon. They could not go far away, or stay for an extended time. Robert had to be back to be sworn in as the District Attorney. But they took a small trip to the beach, to a small hotel, and prepared to enjoy their first night as a married couple.
They were both very nervous and apprehensive; Robert because he didn't want to 'hurt' Wendy, and Wendy because she didn't want to disappoint Robert.
It wasn't that either one of them was completely ignorant about sex, its deviations, variations, and perversions. Both had studied abnormal psychology in school and done their share of reading - technical books, of course - that treated on sexual matters. But their strict upbringing precluded them from even thinking of indulging or engaging in anything but 'normal' sex for the purpose of having children. That was the way, by their upbringing, that they thought of the subject.
Wendy retired modestly into the bathroom, while Robert changed hastily in the semi - darkness of the bedroom, donning his brand new pajamas. Wendy undressed, carefully folding her clothing and undergarments so they wouldn't be mussed. As she unhooked her bra and pulled down her pantyhose, she did permit herself a quick look in the full length mirror at her naked body. She had to admit that she was as beautiful as any girl she had seen in magazines. Maybe that was immodest, and maybe she wasn't as sexy looking as some, but her firm high breasts jutted out pointedly, the nipples large and firm with a darker center ring. The skin on her body was as perfect as her facial complexion, smooth and milky white. Her brown eyes were dazzling, her dark hair curled in little tendrils around her small head. Her legs were slim and graceful. She hoped that Robert would be sorry that they had waited so long. For just a second her eyes darted to the private triangle below her navel and she glanced at the dark pubic hair that adorned it. She rubbed her hand over it gently, then quickly pulled it away. That wasn't 'nice'.
As she looked she heard Robert's voice calling her from the bedroom. "You almost ready, Hon?"
"Almost," she replied, gaily. Oh, she wanted this to be fun. Love should be exciting, she thought, as she pulled her flimsy, sheer nightgown over her head and let it drop in clinging folds around her body. She clicked off the bathroom light and went into the bedroom.
In the semi - darkened room, her eyes took a moment to adjust. She could not see her new husband. He had already climbed into bed and was steeling himself for an ordeal. He remembered every bit of literature and piece of information he had ever read about how a husband should treat his wife on the wedding night, especially if she was a virgin. Kindness. Gentleness. Take it easy. Remember, it's painful the first time for a virgin.
He was willing himself not to become too excited too soon, when Wendy opened the door and stood framed in the window between the bathroom and where he lay on the bed. Robert had opened the curtain and the windows a bit.
Just enough moonlight lit the room to frame and outline every luscious curve of Wendy's body. His male rod stirred and began rising just at the sight of her through her night apparel she wore. It was even sexier to him than if Wendy had appeared completely naked. Had Wendy known that fact of life she probably would have been nude rather than clothed in a piece of silk that only enticed more than it hid. She did not want to overly excite Robert on this, their first night and spoil things for him.
"Robert?" she whispered in a small voice.
"Over here, sweetheart." he replied.
Her eyes became accustomed to the dim light and she moved toward the bed. She lifted the covers, climbed in on the opposite side, and rolled into Robert's arms. She pressed herself close to him as he embraced her as tenderly as possible. His hands moved to her breasts, cupped one of them, and squeezed. She gave a little moan which Robert completely misinterpreted. He thought he was hurting her. He withdrew his hand. She pressed herself closer to him and almost melted her pelvis into his legs. She felt the large hard bulge, and hoped she wasn't rushing things. She did want him with all the fervor of her young passion. She hoped he would take his time, but she needed to be prepared for this first invasion of her most sacred possession.
She wanted to feel her husband's organ - feel it for the first time with her hand and not be ashamed of wanting it, and thinking about it. But did she dare? She returned Robert's squeeze with one of her own on his hand, then slowly inched her hand down his side and leg, approaching his organ closer and closer. She sensed its hardness now, and its heat.
Robert felt her hand coming down lower and lower and could hardly stand it. He reached for her shoulder, found the top of the flimsy garment and thrust his hand inside it. He cradled a bare breast with one hand and tried to struggle out of his pajama pants with the other. He untied it as quickly as he could and was inching it down his thighs with his feet, first one then the other. It wouldn't move quickly enough. The pain and throbbing of his cock was. agonizing. Finally he managed to expose his pulsing rod and rolled over on top of his wife.
"Not yet, darling, not yet," Wendy almost moaned.
Robert Pearson reached down with both hands and lifted Wendy's nightgown. His penis contacted her pubic hair and he spurted cum all over it.
"Oh God! Oh, God, no! We've waited too long!" Wendy realized what had happened and could feel his large member pulsating and throbbing. She felt the moistness on her body and began sobbing. "Oh, I'm sorry, Robert. I'm sorry!" Robert rolled off her like a shot. He was embarrassed and ashamed. He had never had so little control before; not with any of the few women he had fucked. He threw off the covers and almost ran into the bathroom, slamming the door as Wendy called out, "Robbbeee!"
Then she lay there, trying to think what to do. Being a woman, she had not been nearly ready for that first insertion and thrust but she wanted her husband. Perhaps if she gave him time to recover? That's what he needed, she thought, just some time.
But Robert continued to stay in the bathroom. After a half - hour went by, an hour. Wendy began to wonder if something was seriously wrong. She got out of bed, tip - toed to the bathroom door and knocked on it gently. "Buddy?" she whispered again. There was no reply. "Sweetheart, it's all right. Come back to bed. Please!" When there was still no reply, she called again. "Robert? Please come to bed."
The door opened and Robert stood there looking like the end of the world. He was almost in a daze. Wendy took him by the hand and gently led him back to the marital bed. They both just lay there quietly for several moments. Finally Wendy broke the silence.
"Darling?"
He did not reply.
"I - I've heard ..." she began, hesitantly, "... I've heard that there are other ways."
"No!" Robert almost shouted the word. It was almost a snarl, a grunt. He too, 'had heard', and once a whore had sucked him. He did not intend to let his wife humiliate herself in that way. Wendy sensed what he was thinking, and hastened to add, "not for you, sweetheart, for me."
"W - Whattt!?" Robert Pearson was flabbergasted. He could hardly believe his ears. Was his wife - his sweet innocent Wendy, suggesting that he commit an act of perversion on her?
"I'm sorry." Wendy said again. It seemed that she could do nothing right on this night of all nights. "I - I only thought it might excite you again - and make me more - more ready." she finished lamely.
Robert inhaled and exhaled with a deep long sigh. "Wendy, listen to me. I'm sorry for what happened. Sorrier than you are, believe me." He sounded more like a lawyer in a courtroom than a husband on his honeymoon. "But," he went on, his voice beginning to sound more and more pompous, "It - it's just one of those unfortunate things. I - I should have been in more control of myself but the whole thing was just too much for me, the wedding, the excitement, the election. It's no great catastrophe. We'll be married a long time. There'll be plenty of other nights. But, please don't suggest anything 'unnatural', something that we might both be sorry that we did. I - I have the greatest respect for you," he continued, making it worse, "the same as I have for myself. I wouldn't want either of us to engage in any perverse act that we might be ashamed of later."
With that pompous statement, Robert Pearson, the third turned away from his bride and moved away to his extreme side of the bed. Wendy thought for a moment that she was going to cry. She contained herself and spent a moment reflecting. Robert was right. She was a little hussy for suggesting it. Sweet, pure little Wendy, wanted her husband to play with her pussy with his fingers, or to go even further, with his lips and tongue. No! Robert was absolutely right to have reprimanded her. Why, she was acting no better than a street - walker.
"I'm sorry, darling," she said for the third time, and ran her hand down over her stomach, touching the top of her pussy. It was still moist and wet with her husband's semen.
Quietly, she got out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom to wash herself. The very least she could do was eliminate any reminder to Robert of his failure. In the shower she soaped herself and had to restrain the desire to put her hand down and play with herself. That wasn't 'nice', either. But Wendy was as passionate as the next woman, and desired sex with all the heat and abandon of her female sex, whether she was ready to admit it or not.
Finally, she was clean again and had dried herself, rubbing briskly with the large fluffy towel. She carefully extinguished the bathroom light and crept back to the marital bed. Robert was breathing deeply. She couldn't tell whether he was really asleep or merely pretending because he was too embarrassed to talk further. Wendy only hoped that she hadn't disappointed her husband too much. She moved closer to him and gently allowed her hand to rest on his stomach, being careful not to touch his by now limp and useless organ.
Almost at the same moment when Robert failed in his attempt to consummate his marriage, another scene was taking place in the home of Mrs. Maryanne Scott back in Los Angeles.
Mrs. Scott had moved into the community about three months before Robert and Wendy were married and before Robert's election as District Attorney.
She had campaigned for Robert and had made a sizeable donation to his campaign fund. In this way, she met not only Robert and Wendy but most of their friends.
She did not confine her activities and circle of friends entirely to the society that the young District Attorney and his wife moved in, but Robert Pearson, the third, and Wendy were her principal targets and prey.
Attended by her faithful servant, Mrs. Higgins, Maryanne Scott was conducting a service of sorts. The room itself had been changed from an ordinary room into something resembling a crypt. There was also an altar, hanging draperies and large candles, all in black. Above the altar, hung a portrait of her "Master" the Aga Shah, the innovator of "The. Movement". Mrs. Scott and her assistant were praying to the Aga Shah, the "Master" asking for guidance and direction, and swearing to do his bidding as He commanded.
As they offered up their prayers and themselves into His hands, they seemed to hear His voice, commanding them and instructing them. They replied aloud, speaking to his portrait.
"We understand, Master." Mrs. Scott murmured, her two palms pressed together. "Yes, Master. Robert Pearson and his wife. I have already told you about their marriage. I have prayed to You to desecrate their wedding night."
She listened a moment and smiled evilly. She was a beautiful and voluptuous woman, who appeared to be not more than thirty. She contrasted Wendy in that she was tall, with ash - blonde hair. Her features had an unhealthy pallor. Her breasts were almost twice the size of Wendy's, not quite as young and upthrusting, but delightful for all of that. Her figure was statuesque, rather like the Venus de Milo, but slimmer in the waist. She was sex in female form. Her lips were lush and inviting. There wasn't even a sign of a wrinkle on her face. There was an unearthly stillness to the immobile features of her face.
After listening intently for a moment, she noddetf with satisfaction. "Good. Good," she murmured again. Apparently her supernatural contact had informed her of Robert's failure with his wife almost at the moment it happened.
Impossible? Who is to say?
People for hundreds of years have believed in the supernatural. Many people still believe in ghosts, even literature for generations has mentioned such things as "beasts, and bogies, and things that go bump in the night."
Mrs. Scott was a 'true believer'. She was not under thirty. Her age was unknown. She herself had forgotten how many years she had lived, always doing "Her Master's" bidding, and remaining always, seemingly ageless. Other people seemed to grow old, but not Mrs. Scott.
Mrs. Scott moved quite often. It usually took some time for people to become suspicious of her, but eventually, for whatever reason people grew to hate her and she was unable to remain in a community any longer. The world was large "The Master" had many places and people to conquer, conquer.
She was always welcomed into any community where she moved - at first. She appeared to have plenty of money. She moved in the best circles, living in a style that few could afford, entertaining lavishly and was a most gracious and charming hostess.
No one ever called her by her first name, except her assistant, who posed as her housekeeper and companion, Mrs. Higgins. Mrs. Higgins was only a neophyte in "The Movement". She was old, and she looked old. But she had almost served her time as "The Master's" disciple and was shortly due to be rewarded with the same beautiful face and figure, as well as the privileges of Mrs. Scott. She was growing impatient with her secondary role as assistant to Maryanne and wanted more than anything to become a full - fledged "Believer". She had tried to conceal her growing impatience from Mrs. Scott, not always with complete success. There were times when Maryanne had to remind Mrs. Higgins of her position, and that she, Mrs. Higgins was required merely to act as her assistant. However, the old woman did persist in asking Mrs. Scott quite often, "When? When?"
She was doing it now while Maryanne prayed to her master, the Aga Shah. "Ask him," she urged Mrs. Scott. "Ask him!"
Maryanne ignored Mrs. Higgins and went on praying, asking for guidance and swearing herself on the "altar of the Master." She listened again when she stopped her chanting and nodded with understanding. "Yes, Master. I understand. As soon as they return from their honeymoon." She was forced to grin again when she uttered the word
"Honeymoon." She knew that Robert Pearson., the third, and Wendy were in for a disappointing time, not only on their honeymoon, but an even worse experience once they returned to Los Angeles.
She continued nodding her understanding and murmuring, "Yes, Master," to the unheard commands. "As soon as they return. A party? Of course. I will begin the arrangements immediately."
With that, she bowed low, kissed the foot of the altar, again pressed her palms together and backed away slowly, her eyes riveted to her Master's image. Together, the beautiful Maryanne and the crone made their way out of the altar room and into the lavishly appointed sitting room.
"You may start dinner," Maryanne coldly ordered her servant. "And bring me my guest address book. We are going to have a party to celebrate the return of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Pearson from their honeymoon." With that she laughed loud and coarsely.
"Yes, Madame," the servant bowed deferentially and left the room.
Maryanne went to her always well stocked bar and poured herself a drink. She gulped it off like a longshoreman and poured herself another. This one she carried with her into the bedroom and surveyed the king - size bed and dresser, surrounded completely by mirrors. They were two - way mirrors. Behind this room was a small corridor that encircled the room on three sides. A hidden door to this room was activated by a secret button which Maryanne pushed, then entered through the opening revealed by a sliding panel in one wall.
In the corridor was video tape recording equipment, which could be used to record the activities in the bedroom. At the far end was a door. Maryanne entered the door and went into a small intimate room equipped with a special television set which would accommodate the video tapes and play them back on the T V. almost immediately. It was neat and clean, all was in readiness. Her methods were always the same. Whomever Her Master chose was first seduced by sex and then blackmailed. In the case of Robert and Wendy, Maryanne was certain that Wendy would not succumb to a lesbian approach; certainly not at first. Therefor, her initial victim had to be Robert. It should not be difficult - especially with Her Master's help.
Maryanne smiled to herself and began rubbing her hands over her luscious body; gently fondling her own breasts, then working down slowly over her flat belly, lower yet to her thighs and legs and back up to a point between them. She squatted slightly to give her hands more play and feel, then rubbed the palm and fingers hungrily over her pussy. She was getting excited just thinking about what she would entice the handsome, wholesome District Attorney, Robert Pearson, the third, to do under her guidance. All of it would be captured on video - tape, of course, the cameras operated by the faithful Mrs. Higgins.
The Master had chosed his Disciple well. Maryanne had lived up to his every expectation, and so she would again. Perhaps that was why he had 'chosen' her.
Meanwhile, back in the small hotel on the beach, Robert's and Wendy's honeymoon was almost as unsatisfactory as the first night, not quite, but almost. The stretch of beach near the hotel was deserted. It was too cold for swimming or even much sun - bathing, and there wasn't much else to do. Except of course, make love. But it was obvious to both of them that they were not enjoying themselves. The second night in bed, Robert had managed to prevent himself from cumming too soon. Actually, he failed to reach a climax at all. Wendy's virgin pussy proved to be so tight that he was unable to fully penetrate her. This time he did play with her cunt, but only with his fingers. He was forced to do something to try to moisten the tiny fur - lined lips and entrance and to try to force it to dilate. He kneaded her breasts and kissed her passionately. Then he would place his hand on her pussy and feel that it was moist. But each time he mounted her and tried to insert his penis, it only went so far and was resisted by her virginal cherry. She also moaned a bit in the process of his attempts,, and Robert always immediately withdrew. He thought he was 'hurting' her. He did not realize that she was moaning with pleasure and that that was the precise moment when he should have shoved and rammed his cock into her.
The sorry result was that he could not get inside her and the effort turned him off to the point that he lost his erection.
Things continued like that for almost the entire week. Both of them became more and more frustrated. Wendy found herself wishing and thinking that her husband ought to let them try something different. A different position perhaps - but something! Oh, they both knew all the proper and technical names for the various variations of sexual intercourse. But Wendy was afraid to mention the subject after Robert's reaction the first night. And Robert was feeling like a complete failure. Robert seemed to resist and resent any suggestion for anything but what he considered 'normal' sex. That meant the man on top and the woman under him.
So, they struggled along for almost an entire week, pretending to have fun during the day and trying to consummate the marriage each night. Finally, on their last night, Robert had really worked Wendy up into a frenzy of passion with his kisses and kneading her breasts, and playing with her hot little pussy. Her cunt was hot and moist, but her maidenhead was still intact, which completely frustrated them both. Robert worked and tried to penetrate his way inside her, always giving up too soon, until Wendy, in complete frustration, suddenly grabbed both of his ass cheeks in her hands and literally pulled him into her. She kept straining on his buttocks, urging him on and on until finally there was a small sound inside her, a rending and tearing, a great surge of liquid, and she was free. Robert realized what had happened and the thought of it excited him beyond restraint. He too spurted his load into her, puffing like a grampus and sweating like a pig.
Finally, they both lay on the bed, exhausted and spent. But Wendy was happy. She really wasn't sure whether she had had an orgasm or not, but at least she was no longer a virgin. She had given herself to her husband and made him happy. That was enough in itself. For him to be happy made her happy. Now that the first awful hurdle was over, they would have lots of time, as Robert said, to make love. Perhaps even, in time, Robert would relax a little and indulge in a few 'variations'. She would be patient and not rush him. After all, wasn't she married to the most wonderful man in her entire society? They would be happy. She was sure of it. She lay there, quietly, in the dark, and thought about their future.
Robert had gotten up and gone to the bathroom to wash himself. He, too was happy. He had 'made' it at last. It wasn't exactly as thrilling as he had expected, but after all a husband isn't expected to enjoy his wife like that, not like she was a whore or something. He had too much respect for her for that.
Robert smiled, turned off the bathroom light and went back to bed. Wendy heard him humming to himself and knew that that was a good sign. "Are you happy, darling?" she asked.
"Ummmmm," was his reply.
"So am I," she whispered.
"Good night," Robert said, and patted her absentmindedly.
"Good night, darling." She was only slightly daunted by the fact that Robert turned Ms back to her and was asleep almost immediately.
Chapter Two
Maryanne lost no time in getting in touch with Robert when he and Wendy returned from their partially successful honeymoon. The District Attorney had not been in his office half an hour when his secretary informed him that Mrs. Scott was on the telephone. Of course Robert accepted the call immediately. He could hardly afford not to. He was well aware of the charming lady's monetary contributions and help during his recent campaign. Besides he had it in mind to ask for future help, both monetary, and to help him and his wife meet influential people. She had a name for being a charming hostess, and invitations to her parties were much sought after.
He lifted the phone and assumed his most pleasant, politically charming voice. "How are you, Mrs. Scott. How good to hear from you."
Maryanne assured the District Attorney that she was well and inquired about his own health and that of his wife, and hoped that they had had a wonderful honeymoon.
"Oh, yes, perfect," Robert replied. "It was wonderful!" He felt a little guilty about this little white lie. "What can I do for you?"
"Oh, Mr. District Attorney." Maryanne gushed in her sexiest voice. "It isn't that I want you to do anything for me, but I thought I might do something for you."
"Well, as a matter fact..." Robert started, then broke off as Maryanne continued. "And to invite you and Wendy to a small party I am planning on giving on Friday evening."
"I'm sure we would be delighted to come," Robert accepted quickly.
"I will look forward to seeing you then," she cooed. "Around eight - ish?" she replied.
"Good. Maybe we can talk about some small business I want to discuss with you."
"Oh, no. No you don't, you naughty man. I will not have business discussed at a party. Parties are strictly for fun. But if you're free next week, perhaps you'd like to drop over for tea one afternoon and we can discuss it then." "It's a date."
"When?" Maryanne pressed for a firm commitment.
"Well, let me see. I'll have to consult my calendar," he hastily looked through his appointment book. "How about Tuesday afternoon?"
"Tuesday would be perfect."
"See you then." Robert said.
"Yes, but first I will see you on Friday evening. And be sure to tell Wendy. New brides don't like last minute surprises. She might want to buy a new dress or something."
"I'll tell her this evening. And thanks for calling, Mrs. Scott."
"Goodbye." Maryanne hung up and smiled. She turned to find Mrs. Higgins at her side. "It is all arranged." she said to the older woman. "Now I must send out the invitations. When they learn that the new District Attorney is coming, we won't be able to keep people away."
She was right. That Friday evening, everyone who was anybody was present to celebrate the District Attorney's - return with his new bride. Maryanne circulated continually, like any gracious hostess, and carefully noted, for future reference, the ones who might be useful in the future, and the ones who were all talk and no action, and those who didn't get on with their wives, or who talked too much when they had a little too much to drink. She wore a cordless mike under her dress. Every conversation she could evesdrop on was taken down on a small recorder upstairs for future reference.
District Attorney Pearson and his charming wife Wendy were graciousness itself. Most of the guests were friendly to them and were already his supporters. When the party broke up, no one had any doubts that the rising star would go far in politics - and why not. He was handsome, charming, and had the added asset of having a charming and beautiful wife. All in all, the party was a huge success, and Robert was properly grateful, as he took his leave at the door.
"I can't begin to thank you, Mrs. Scott." Robert took Maryanne's hand and shook it warmly.
"I'm so glad you enjoyed yourselves," Maryanne replied with her most charming smile. "We must do this more often."
"Any time you say. Goodnight." Robert said. "Goodnight." she answered with a smile. "I'm looking forward to our appointment on Tuesday afternoon."
And they were gone.
When the last guest had departed, Maryanne turned to Mrs. Higgins as she was about to retire to her room.
"We will speak to "The Master" every morning until Tuesday. Tuesday you will be prepared to assist me."
"Yes, of course, Mrs. Scott." the old one murmured and bowed her head.
Someday, she thought, I will be as she is. I will be a "True Believer". I will be young and beautiful. If this comes off as she has planned she would ask "The Master" to keep his promise and promote her to that position.
On Tuesday, promptly at the appointed hour, Robert Pearson, the third, presented himself at the home of Mrs. Maryanne Scott. He had canceled all appointments for the day and was prepared to be at his charming best. He had a feeling that he needed this woman, not only for her money and support, but in some other way. She was a forceful commanding person. He liked that kind of woman. He hadn't given her a single thought sexually - that wasn't in Robert's nature - at least he thought it wasn't. It was true that he had sown a few wild oats before he married Wendy. That was the way things were supposed to be. His attraction to Mrs. Scott was something different. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it was almost as if he were compelled to come to see her. And she was valuable to him, both financially and socially.
Maryanne opened the door to him herself. Mrs. Higgins was already upstairs, preparing the videotape recorders, focusing them and putting on the 'zoom' lenses that would allow for close - ups for the bed, couch and chair. The "True Believer" was wearing her sexiest dress. It was not obvious, but more subtle. It clung close to her body, outlining every curve, emphasizing her large breasts. She was also wearing a very exotic perfume that Robert noticed as he first entered the door. The perfume was actually a potion in a very mild form. Every "Believer" is supplied with her potions, and Maryanne had her share.
They exchanged greetings and she led Robert into the living room. "You look tired." she commented.
"I am - a little. It's been a busy week." "You have such a responsible job," she continued. "And there is so much to be done. I do want to be of help to you if possible."
"You have been a tremendous help already, Mrs. Scott, and I owe you a debt of gratitude. But if I can prevail upon you to take over the Chair of this Committee I have in mind ..."
"I may do - I will have to think about it. How about a drink?"
"But it's so early in the day!" Robert raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, it is early, but you do look as though you could stand a bit of relaxation."
"Well, maybe you're right." Robert agreed. He was willing to agree to practically anything Mrs. Scott said, if only he could persuade her to give further of her time and money. He had no way of knowing of course that Maryanne was willing to give even more than that. "What will it be?" she asked. "Oh, I don't know." he answered agreeably. "I hardly ever drink this early so maybe I'll leave the choice to you."
"It's rather warm out. How about a Mai Tai?"
"A MaiTai? I don't think I've ever had one."
"Really? Then that is what it shall be. You really should try one of my Mai Tais." She began mixing the ingredients. She knew that given enough fruit juice, the liquor became tasteless no matter how heavily the drink was loaded.
"They tell me in the West Indies," Maryanne went on, "That my MaiTais are absolutely authentic and rank with the best the natives can make."
This was just a conversational gambit, and Robert took the bait. "I didn't know you had been in the West Indies," he said.
"Oh, more than just 'been there'." she replied. "I lived there for almost two years after Mr. Scott died."
"It must be interesting - traveling about like that."
"Yes, it is," she agreed, as she brought him his drink. "But after a while it becomes boring, like anything else. I find that I like it here on the West Coast as well or better than anywhere else in the world."
"I'm pleased to hear that," Robert smiled politely. "I hope you plan to stay for a long time."
"Shall we drink to that?" she raised her glass in a toast.
"I can't think of a better thing to drink to," Robert replied gallantly, raising his glass and clinking it lightly against hers. He took a large swallow of his drink, licked his lips, and said, "Umm, that's good!"
"I'm glad it pleases you." Maryanne returned sitting close to him on the sofa, her perfume wafting gently in his direction.
That is a lovely drink." Robert grinned, relaxing on the sofa, and loosening his tie a little. He thirstily finished his drink in short order, and set it down on the coffee table.
"Now, about that Committee ..." he began in a business - like manner.
"Oh, first, let's have one more before we talk business!"
"Oh, I - I don't think I should. It's so early in the day."
"Mr. District Attorney," Mrs. Scott's voice dropped seductively, "You want me to take that Committee, don't you?"
"Indeed, I do."
"Then, I insist. Another of my famous MaiTais, and then we'll get down to the cold hard facts of life." Maryanne grinned to herself when she said that. Robert had no idea of her double meaning. "Hot, hard facts of life," Maryanne murmured to herself as she picked up the empty glasses and returned to the bar. While she mixed the second cocktail she stole a glance at Robert. He had tugged his collar and tie open still more, and seemed to be warm and relaxed. "Take your coat off, Mr. District Attorney," she invited. "Make yourself comfortable."
"Thanks, it is a little warm."
The drink seemed to be having an effect, but Maryanne couldn't be sure of Robert's tolerance for alcohol. Perhaps something a little extra was what was needed to be on the safe side. When she poured in the fruit juice, she took a small vial from her bra and emptied its contents into Robert's drink. This potion was odorless and tasteless. It not only released all sorts of inhibitions, but it was also a powerful aphrodisiac. If everyone could get this potion, no one would ever use hash or pot again.
She stirred the mixture and brought it back to the District Attorney. "This time, here's to you!" she said huskily, as she handed it to him.
True to tradition, he responded with, "I'll drink to that!" and he did.
It glided down smoothly. Maryanne sat close beside him, waited a few moments, then moved a little closer. As she spoke her hand rested casually on Robert's knee. The District Attorney tried to pay attention to the conversation, but found his mind wandering elsewhere.
"Now, what was this about a Committee?" she was saying.
"Yes ... er ... yes, the Committee ..." Robert looked at her and could only think of her luscious red lips, and the shape of her enticing breasts as they pressed against his arm.
Wow, she is really beautiful, Robert thought, and took another large swallow of his drink. Maryanne's hand slid further up his leg, and he could feel that old familiar stirring in his groin.
"It would mean quite a lot of extra work, of course," she went on casually. "But if you think I can help, I'll manage it somehow. I certainly want to, if it will help you." She leaned over even nearer to him and allowed her hand to brush accidentally over his crotch.
His huge rod jerked under his pants, and he could feel it harden. Did she know what she was doing? And what was he thinking about, anyway? He tugged at his collar and tie again, this time loosening it completely, and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.
"Here, let me," Maryanne reached over obligingly, and then began unbuttoning his shirt all the way down.
"Mrs. Scott.. !" Robert began, but could not find words to continue. His body was beginning to respond to the potion she had given him, and he felt as if he were on fire. His cock was stiffened harder than he had ever felt it before. He looked at the woman next to him and let his mind wander. What would she look like without any clothes on? What would it be like to make love to her? He had to know. He had to find out. He gulped the last few swallows in his glass as Maryanne finished unbuttoning his shirt and began pulling it out of his pants. The shirt tail slid over his penis and he jerked involuntarily again.
"C - could ... could I have another drink?" he gasped, extending his glass.
"Why certainly, Robert." Maryanne took his glass, patted the front of his pants and went to the bar.
Quickly, she mixed another MaiTai, just a plain one this time. One potion was quite sufficient. That coupled with the liquor she had put in the drinks were enough to set Mr. District Attorney, Robert Pearson on his ear. And that was exactly what she planned on doing.
"Has everyone always called you "Bud"? she asked as she brought back his drink.
"Hmnn? What?" Robert was beginning to feel simply wonderful. He was burning with desire. Never had he felt such delicious throbbings in his inflated cock. He was rapidly going, as the kids say, "Out of his skull."
"Bud. I've heard several people call you that." Maryanne handed him a drink. He gulped it eagerly, as if his tongue was burning, which it was. Bud? Oh. Yeah, Yeah, they - they used to call me that in school."
"I thought so," the voluptuous woman answered.
"Huh? What - whatdya mean?" he asked thickly.
"Oh, you know." she answered in an amused voice. "All the men wonder if a blonde girl is really a blonde. I was just wondering if you really had a "little bud."
Robert stood up indignantly and stripped the shirt from his back, throwing it on the sofa. "You - you think all I have is a tiny little bud!! No sir! Nossir! It's all there. All of it, just like anyone else's."
"Well, you better believe me," Robert slurred drunkenly. "Robert Pearson don't lie. Nossir. Whatever else I am, I ain't a liar."
"All right then. Show me!"
"I'll show you! I'll show you!"
Robert unbuckled his trousers. He was beyond caring what was 'proper'. Why shouldn't he take off his clothes in front of Mrs. Scott, and show her that his prick was as big as anyone's? He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he zipped down his pants and let them fall to the floor. She had bent over a little to see better, and her breasts were jutting out more than ever, her lips and body looking even more tantalizing. He tried to step out of his pants, but they wouldn't go over his shoes. He almost fell to the floor, sat down, and began yanking at his shoes. Maryanne smiled to herself, reached under the coffee table and pressed a button. Mrs. Higgins, upstairs would activate the video tape recorders now.
"That's it, Bud. Go, boy, go!" Maryanne urged him on as Robert nearly tore his shoes off and slung them away. He pulled off his trousers and stood up dressed only in his shorts and socks. "Well?" Maryanne smiled. "Well, what?"
"Well, don't stop there. Go ahead, take them off. I can't tell anything with all those clothes on."
Robert gave the woman one more look. His thoughts were wild and erotic now. Yeah, yeah. Get naked. If I get naked, she'll get naked. Then I'll fuck her. Boy, will I fuck her!
With a quick motion he drew his shorts over his extended cock and let them fall around his ankles. His male rod stood out at full length, throbbing, and there was no question that he was a full - fledged man. His pubic hair glistened in the light of the lamp.
"See?!" Robert said, belligerently. "Now do you believe me?"
Maryanne merely smiled - her sexiest and most provocative smile. "Come here, lover." she murmured.
Robert almost fell over himself getting to the sofa. He threw himself upon her and tried to pull her face to his.
"No, Bud. Not yet. But I will kiss you. I'll do things to you that you never dreamed of. But first, it's your turn."
"What? What do you mean? Whaddya want me to do?" His speech was getting thicker by the minute, his passion mounting.
"Well..." Maryanne began teasingly. "You might begin by taking your socks off. Socks are so unromantic, don't you think?"
She rose and moved toward liim as Robert bent to take off his socks. "Besides," she continued, "I want to see you completely naked. I don't want you to even have your socks on."
Robert tossed his socks aside, grinned a silly grin and stood up. "How's that?" he asked stupidly.
"Hmmm. Not bad. You've got a nice body. Turn around."
Robert did an awkward pirouette. Maryanne was having him act like a fool for the benefit of the video tape recorders upstairs, recording everything he did.
"Yummm. You've got a nice big cock!" she whispered, and moved close to him, brushing his penis with her pelvis.
Robert thought he would cum right there. Wildly, he tried to throw his arms around her to embrace her.
"Slow down, Bud. Easy. I told you. You'll get everything you want as soon as I get everything I want."
"What - what do you want?" Robert could barely get the words out. He stumbled to the sofa, and finished the last of his drink. His vision was - strange, now. Tilings seemed sharper, yet with a strange kind of halo around them that distorted the way they looked. The woman standing before him represented all women to him, all desirability, all sex. He had no thought of resisting her. He only wanted to do her bidding and please her. Nothing else mattered, except perhaps, the hope of finally possessing her.
Maryanne surveyed her victim with a practiced eye. She knew how 'proper' he usually was, how strict a moral code he had, and how he would resist anything that suggested 'abnormal' sex' in his eyes. She had to be sure that the drinks and the potion had made him into her complete slave.
"Would you like to see me - naked?" she teased. "Oh, God! Would I.. !" He moaned and tried to embrace her again, but she held him off.
"Well, then, why don't you help me? Start by taking off my shoes."
Robert slid off the sofa to the floor, sat by her feet and removed her shoes. Maryanne hadn't worn any hose, on purpose. Her feet were bare inside her stylish high heeled sandals.
"Ummm. That's nice. Now, you can massage my feet, darling Bud. They're tired."
Robert immediately took one foot in both hands and began to massage it from toe to ankle, top and bottom with firm caresses. Maryanne lay back on the sofa. This was going to be fun. she thought, in addition to the humiliation it would heap on the District Attorney of the town.
"That feels good, darling Bud. Why don't you massage it with your mouth?"
She had one fleeting moment of doubt. Would this very 'proper' young man, tins pillar of righteousness, actually allow himself to be conned into kissing and licking her feet?
She offered up a silent prayer to Her Master, and hoped he would not fail her. He didn't.
Chapter Three
Robert hesitated only a brief instant, then bent low and began kissing her feet. She looked down at him smugly and watched, hoping the Video tape would come out clearly.
"Lower. Lower, darling Bud. All over. Suck my toes." she whispered and blew a thin hot stream of air into his ear.
Robert's male organ gave another twitch. She looked at it intently. A small bit of cum had oozed its way to the top. He was ready! Boy, was he ever ready! Robert bent even lower, and took a foot in each hand. From one to the other, he licked and kissed and ran his tongue up and over them. He placed a big toe in his mouth and began sucking it.
"Oh, good, darling Bud, sweetheart!" she cooed. "Suck it good. Suck it like a cock!"
His tongue became even more active. His hips began to sway in involuntary movement to his sexual thoughts as he worked and sucked. He wanted to do everything she asked, no matter what. Maryanne let him continue for awhile, briefly, then decided there was no use in wasting Video tape. He was ready to be taken upstairs - to the bedroom. There was much more scope for activity there and the view for the cameras would be better.
"That's enough for now. Follow me!" He rose and followed her to the foot of the staircase, his huge cock waving in front of him. Maryanne stopped at a small table, opened a drawer and took out a small leash.
As Robert approached her, she said. "You know, Bud, I've always wanted a little pet, and I've never had one. I've always wanted a little doggie. Will you be my little doggie?" "Anything - anything. Oh, God!" "Bend down then - on all fours." Robert, obediently dropped to his hands and knees. Maryanne carefully fitted the leash around his neck, and began leading him up the stairs. "Come on, little doggie. Come, pet." she urged and hoped to The Master that Mrs. Higgins had the cameras working properly. This ought to look good on television.
Robert followed her, hopping up the stairs, giving little yapping noises like a pet poodle on the way. Maryanne laughed as though she were delighted with his performance, urging Robert on to even more ludicrous antics.
At the top she stopped, facing a wall where she knew there was a videotape recorder trained, and commanded. "Now sit up and beg for mama. That's a nice doggie. Sit up - upsy daisy!"
And Robert Pearson, the third, District Attorney for a huge west coast city sat up on his hind legs, his hands limp in front of him, and pretended to beg like a dog, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and panting.
"Oh, that's a nice doggie." Maryanne patted the top of his head. "Now mummy must be nice to her little bow - wow." and she led him into her bedroom.
This was where the real work was to be done and where Mr. District Attorney would receive his real come - uppance. She led him to the bed, took off the leash and faced him.
"No more little pet, Bud. How much do you want me?"
"More than anything. More than ..." Robert dropped to his knees and clasped his arms around her waist.
"Get up!" she commanded sharply.
He arose unsteadily. "Undress me!" He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came. This was what he wanted more than anything - to see this beautiful woman with all her clothes off - completely nude!
"The zipper is in the back" she ordered him. He moved back of her quickly and pulled the zipper of her dress down. The garment fell away and she stood clad only in bra and panties. "Well, what are you waiting for? Take them off too!"
He sprang into action, removed her brassiere and flung it aside. He tried to grasp her breasts, but she forced his hands away. NO, first the panties!"
This action forced him to his knees again in order to draw them down around her hips and help her out of them. She steadied herself with one hand on his shoulder, while she moved her feet out of them, then held him down on his knees when he attempted to rise.
"Kiss me now, Bud. Kiss me - all over!" When he again tried to rise, she held him in a kneeling position. "From the bottom, up." she ordered.
This time, Robert didn't even hesitate. He began kissing and tonguing her from her feet straight up to her loins. She spread her legs apart and ordered him inside her thighs - the fleshy part. He was beginning to get the idea now, and decided he liked it. Maryanne could tell his change of attitude by the way he kissed, and sucked and nibbled. When he reached her softly hair covered cuntal slit, she stopped him.
"Now, from the top."
He immediately rose and tried to hiss her on the mouth. She turned away. "Not yet. First my ears, my neck, my breasts ..."
He nodded with understanding and fell to work. He wormed his tongue inside her ears, nibbled her neck and carefully sucked and licked each breast until they stood out as pointed as horns.
"That's good, Bud. That's nice." she urged him on. "Now lower - lower."
He obeyed without question, kissing and nibbling her stomach, putting his tongue in and around her navel and kissing further down.... Now his lips rested just above her thatch of pussy hair. "Kiss it. Kiss it nicely."
Robert nibbled and ran his tongue over the pussy hair, went lower and found the vaginal slit. His tongue slid inside and found the tender little bud of her clitoris. He began sucking and licking as if he had done it all his life.
Maryanne fell back on the bed and opened her legs wide and upward to give him greater access.
She wanted his whole tongue in her cunt. She played with his hair and screwed her ass cheeks up against his hot moist tongue. It was all she could do to stop from cumming. She pulled herself away from him. "Kiss my ass, sweetheart." she whispered. "Kiss and love my ass!"
Robert was too far gone to resist now. He looked at her smooth white cheeks and began kissing every inch of them.
"In the middle - kiss it there. Put your tongue in!"
Robert found the spot, stiffened his tongue, and ran it up and down her anal canal. Maryanne could contain herself no longer. She had to cum - she had to! She turned her body forward again, wrapped her legs around Robert's face as he buried his tongue in her cunt again, and spurted her boiling cum deep in his throat. She came and came and came. This was the greatest orgasm she had had in a long, long time.
At last she lay exhausted while Robert still tried to suck and lick her and moved his hips from side to side, his cock flesh still as stiffly erect as when they had begun.
Maryanne looked down at it and smiled an evil smile. She had to smile when she thought about Wendy and how she was going to react when she saw her husband kissing a woman's feet, being led around on a dog leash and finally sucking and licking her cunt and ass. The girl would do anything after she viewed these films.
While she permitted the man to suck and lick the last of her cum from her still gently throbbing vagina, she reached out and again pressed one of the buttons which would signal Mrs. Higgins that the show was now over. She could stop the video tapes now.
"Stand up!" she ordered Robert. He immediately rose. Anticipation was in every muscle of his body. He was ready to shove his hard cock into her and probably ready to cum in a matter of seconds. There had to be a better way to teach him who was boss.
"Now," she hissed like a snake. "Jerk it off!" Robert's eyes widened as he tried to wipe his brain clear and understand what the woman was saying. "Wha ... what?"
"Let's go in the bathroom. I'll tease you and you jerk off into the toilet. I want to see that beautiful cum of yours spurt out and go to waste."
"But... but you said..." Robert began to protest.
"I said nothing." Maryanne snapped. "You want to please me don't you?"
"Yes, but..."
"Then do what I say." With that she got up and gave his testicles a tickle with one hand. The action caused his throbbing cock to jerk violently. She grabbed him by the end of it and began to lead him into the bathroom, using his penis as a leash.
Once in the bathroom, Robert found himself holding his own throbbing cock and jerking it up and down. The woman's hands were all over his body, making it impossible to hold back. He remembered fleetingly doing this when he was a kid, in the bathroom of his parent's house, when he had forgotten to lock the door. He had been yanking away when his mother had come in. She had taken one horrified look, then turned and ran, slamming the door. That night his father had given him a two hour lecture on the evils of masturbation. "It scrambles your brain, son." he said. "People who do that go crazy."
His father had frightened him to such an extent that much as he had been tempted he had never done it again, until now. As a consequence, he had had more than his share of wet dreams, especially when he had been courting Wendy. Nature will always find some way of releasing the pressure.
But now he was doing it to himself again - really jerking off. He felt it getting hotter and hotter - harder and harder. He wondered if it would really scramble his brain. Suddenly he reached a climax and the cum gushed as though it would never stop.
Maryanne patted his back. "That's a good boy, Bud. Now don't you feel better?"
Robert nodded dumbly and stared down at the organ in his hand which was rapidly going limp. Maryanne handed him a Kleenex, "Here, wipe it off. Wash yourself and come lie down." With that Maryanne went back into the bedroom, pressed the intercom and ordered Mrs. Higgins to bring a cup of specially brewed coffee for Robert to drink. In addition to coffee it contained a small sleeping potion designed to give him some rest, and wipe all thoughts of the afternoon's happenings from his mind. Maryanne couldn't erase all memories of what he had done, but he would only remember vague details, not specifics. She would remind him of them - later.
Robert stood in the bathroom and stared dumbly around. He could not seem to clear his mind. It was hopeless. He was confused and tired - so tired. He washed himself, and entered the bedroom where Maryanne had donned a negligee, and beckoned to him.
"Here, Bud, Darling. Come lie down. You must be very tired."
"Yes, Yes, I am - a little." His brain was still in a fog. He was hardly aware of Mrs. Higgins entering with a cup of coffee. He wasn't even conscious that he sat naked in front of two strange women. It didn't seem to register.
"Thank you, Mrs. Higgins, that will be all," Maryanne waved the old woman out curtly.
Mrs. Higgins backed out slowly, but not without seeing Robert's enormous cock. Even limp as it was, it was still huge, and she couldn't take her eyes off it. Soon, some day, she would be attractive to a man like that. Soon, she too would ... she hesitated in the door.
"I said, 'That will be all!' Maryanne's sharp voice shook her out of her daydream. She left quietly and closed the door.
"Here you are, Bud, darling. Drink this!" She held the cup to his lips and he drank deeply. "It will make you feel better and help you rest."
Robert drained the cup, gave a big sigh, and fell back on the bed. Within minutes he was asleep.
Maryanne set up a still camera and took a few fast shots of him stretched out on the bed in the nude. They might come in handy some day. Anyone seeing them would wonder who had taken them - and why.
Several hours later, Robert woke with a start. He sat up on the bed and tried to remember where he was. His mind gradually came back into focus, as he rubbed his head and tried to clear the fuzziness from his mind. What had happened. He remembered visiting Mrs. Scott and having a drink. He vaguely remembered being sexually attracted to her - but couldn't remember details after that. The potion he had been given affected his memory that way.
He got up and stumbled into the bathroom. He thought it looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't be sure. He doused his face in cold water from the tap and began to feel a little better. Returning to the bedroom he found his clothes neatly laid out on the chaise longue. He couldn't remember removing them, but he must have been tireder than he had thought. He shouldn't have had those drinks so early in the day. He hoped he hadn't disgraced himself - falling asleep that way. He glanced at his watch. It was shortly after five. He guessed he couldn't have slept too long, but he felt better for it.
When he had finished dressing, he went to the door, opened it gingerly and looked out. There seemed to be no one about. He went to the stairway and started down. At the bottom he met Mrs. Higgins.
"Mrs. Scott said she hopes you had a pleasant nap. So do I." she added, just for good measure.
"Well, thank you." Robert hesitated. "Uh ... where is Mrs. Scott?" he asked.
"Oh, she had a previous appointment and had to leave. She asked me to tell you that she was sorry, and to give you this." Mrs. Higgins produced a pale blue envelope, scented with the same perfume he remembered Mrs. Scott wearing.
"Thank you." Robert took the envelope and stuffed it into his pocket. "Well - I must be going too. Please thank Mrs. Scott for me, and - uh - tell her I'll be in touch."
"Yes, sir." the old lady said quietly and opened the front door.
Robert opened the envelope as soon as he was in his car. There, in the privacy of the front seat, he read it hastily. It was handwritten in a strange unfamiliar handwriting.
"My dear Bud," it began, "I did so enjoy our afternoon and I hope you did also. I will be more than pleased to accept the position of Chairperson to your Special Committee, and will endeavor to lend my support to as many of your official affairs as I can - both financially and morally."
Morally, Robert thought. The word conjured up some experience that eluded his memory. He felt a stirring in his loins, and shifted his position slightly on his seat. He returned his attention to the letter.
"I regret that Wendy and I have not had the opportunity to get to know each other better. Would you please ask her to come to tea tomorrow at three? If tomorrow is not convenient for her, please ask her to call me and we'll set up another time. I feel that my support and that of others depends partly on her. She and I should have a talk about it."
A rather ambiguous remark, Robert thought again, but in a way it made sense. Wendy could do a lot towards furthering his political career. She had already helped him become District Attorney. Now with Mrs. Scott's help, there was no telling how far he could go.
The letter concluded with; "I trust you will persuade her to keep the appointment and accept my invitation. I really did have a wonderful time this afternoon, and I hope you will agree, once you have thought about it, that you did too." It was signed; "Affectionately, Maryanne."
Robert hurriedly stuffed the letter into his pocket, started the motor and pulled out of the driveway. His first thought was to go home, it was rather late. On second thought however, he decided to go back to the office to see if there had been any calls, or of his secretary had made any new appointments for him. His real reason, of course, was to destroy the letter from Maryanne. He didn't want to leave it anywhere that it might be found and traced to him. He didn't want, either, to carry the note home, and destroy it there. For some reason that he couldn't explain, he didn't want his wife to see it. He would take it to the office and get rid if it there.
Chapter Four
Robert wended his way through the heavy traffic carefully, and finally reached his office building.. He parked in the specially reserved space marked, "District Attorney," got out and hurried into the building and up to his office. The place was deserted. It was long after closing time for the rest of the office staff.
He entered his private office, went to his desk, and took out the note again. As he re - read it, for a moment a strange feeling of foreboding came over him. He couldn't understand why he had doubts concerning the invitation to Wendy, and the odd manner of phrasing them that Mrs. Scott had used. He shrugged off those feelings and pondered instead why he should have a feeling of having been completely satisfied, a feeling that he had not had since he had gone on his honeymoon with Wendy. He had a vague idea that he might have cheated on his wife, but his memories of the afternoon were vague and tenuous. However 'something' must have happened to make him feel the way he did. He had the feeling that he and Mrs. Maryanne Scott had made some kind of connection, and he was aware that she seemed to 'go for him' as the saying went. He only hoped that Wendy didn't get suspicious. If he had stepped out of bounds he must be careful that it didn't happen again. After all, he had campaigned on a platform of "Morality." It wouldn't do if it became known or suspected that the new District Attorney, newly married, had an interest on the side.
He took the letter and envelope, held it over the ashtray, and held his lighter to it. He watched it curl up and crumple into ashes. He checked his appointment calendar, there were no new appointments or meetings set up. He looked vaguely around the office, shrugged and went back out to his car. On the way he found himself trying to remember exactly what had happened at Mrs. Scott's place that afternoon. All that he really knew was that he felt wonderful, and that he would like to go on feeling that way. His heavy cock throbbed slightly again, and he knew he would have to remember sometime, just what had happened. He had a sudden feeling that it must have been something sexual. It wasn't like him to have such a blank in his memory. Whatever it was, he made a silent vow that it mustn't happen again.
The appointment that Mrs. Scott had been in such a hurry to keep was a most unusual one. It took place in a room of the city's largest hotel and was with one of the most powerful underworld figures in that area - Mr. Gunnar Wyberg.
Gunnar was a large heavy man. He resembled an ex - boxer or a bodyguard more than anything else. He was in his late forties and had clawed and scratched and double - crossed his way up the ladder of "The Family" any way he could. He had performed myriads of jobs from simple muggings to bombings, to out and out murder. He had as a result, a good sized piece of "territory" of which the West Coast was a part.
Gunnar was "number one" in the city and surrounding territory. It was to him that all the smaller operators of gambling, prostitution, and dope peddling paid off. The election of Robert Pearson as the new District Attorney had posed a threat to his operations until he and Mrs. Scott had made contact. Gunnar, although not even a minor "Believer" was a small cog in the Master's machinery, and had immediately welcomed and accepted any help from Maryanne in order to try to get Robert Pearson under his control. She needed him for her plans, and he needed her for the same reason.
"Mrs. Scott!" he welcomed her in his booming voice. "Do come in. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. May I get you something to drink?"
"Nothing, thank you," Maryanne answered coolly. "I have only a moment. I suppose we could have discussed it over the phone, but I prefer to talk to you personally." She laughed lightly, trying to make the remark into a joke. Actually it was Mrs. Higgins she did not trust. "Step one of our plan has been accomplished. I have enough evidence on the District Attorney to ruin him."
"Your the greatest, doll." Gunnar grinned in admiration.
"Don't call me 'doll', Mr. Wyberg, and remember your place!" Maryanne snapped back.
"Sorry," Wyberg said, sheepishly. "Don't get uptight. I didn't mean to put you down. It's just that I think you did just great - that's all."
"Now I'm ready for you." Maryanne told him. "I've made sure that Mrs. Pearson will be at my place tomorrow. I will show her the evidence of her husband's degradation. She will probably go into a state of shock. You will be there to "calm her down", if I may put it that way."
"Boy, will I ever 'calm her down'." Wyberg gloated and licked his thick lips. Imagine him, Gunnar Wyberg, making it with the District Attorney's new bride.
"I know what you're thinking." Maryanne interrupted his thoughts. "But don't rush things. I want her thoroughly degraded and humiliated, like her husband. Naturally I will keep a filmed record of the entire proceedings."
"Naturally." Gunnar agreed. "But just one thing. Don't photograph my face. I don't particularly want to appear in any of your 'art films'."
"I don't need anything more on you, Gunnar. And I don't think you will be stupid enough to try to double - cross me. Not if you know what's good for you."
"Me! I wouldn't double - cross you." Gunnar feigned horror at the thought. "Why lady, you and me are partners." He gave an evil grin, then hesitated. "Aren't we?"
"As long as you obey orders and do as you are told."
"Yeah - yeah, sure." Wyberg didn't quite know how to react to Mrs. Scott. He was not interested or concerned with Mrs. Scott's "Movement". All he wanted was her help and support. He couldn't afford to have anything happen to ruin this set - up. It would be bad for his standing with "The Family."
"Anything you say." he apologized.
"Be at my house promptly at 2:30 tomorrow. Wendy Pearson has been invited for three. I may need you to help me set up things and do a few chores."
Wyberg frowned instinctively, then immediately wiped it from his face. He didn't like being ordered around, but he had no choice. He was willing to do anything to scandalize the District Attorney, the thought of taking the District Attorney's wife - that proud little bitch and fucking the living daylights out of her was the most pleasant "chore" he could ever remember having been given. His male rod began to stir inside his pants. Wyberg wasn't a handsome man. Actually he was rather repulsive in appearance, despite the fact that he spent a fortune on the latest clothes, and did the best he could to keep his weight down. He was a lumbering ox - the picture of grossness. Even so, many women had gone for him in the past - had really been turned on; women he had not had to pay, or force to submit. He had one of the largest, thickest cocks most of them had ever seen. He had found during his life, that many women practically swoon at the sight of an unusually large penis. He was - in short - well endowed.
Mrs. Scott got to her feet and started out. "At two - thirty tomorrow, then. I'm sure you will enjoy the afternoon."
"I'm sure I will too." Wyberg answered. "Thanks for coming, Mrs. Scott."
Maryanne swept out of the room regally and went towards the elevator. Wyberg stood for a moment in the doorway and watched the back view of her swaying buttocks. It was going to be fun with Wendy Pearson, Gunnar thought, but I'd give my right arm to have a roll in the hay with this way out bitch. He enjoyed an amateur, but he personally enjoyed it much more with a "pro". And he was sure that Mrs. Scott was certainly a "pro."
When Robert arrived home he found that Wendy had prepared a rather special dinner for him. She was a good cook and had gone to great lengths to please him. There were candles on the table and a chilled, imported wine. His wife was certainly trying, Robert thought. Maybe some day - or night - they would manage to have a complete, fully satisfactory sexual relationship.
While he sipped his wine and enjoyed the delicious roast that she had prepared, he broached the subject of her appointment tomorrow with Mrs. Scott. He tried to make it sound as casual as he could.
"I saw Mrs. Scott today." he mentioned lightly. "Oh? How is she?"
"She's fine. Fine. She's going to head up my Committee for me, that Special Committee I was telling you about."
"That's good."
"She's also willing to help me in civic affairs all she can, financially, as well as lending her moral support."
"Wonderful."
"She wants to discuss some things with you. She wants you to come to tea at her house at three tomorrow." Robert blurted.
"What in the world could she possibly want to discuss with me? I was planning on going shopping with..." Wendy began, but Robert interrupted her quickly.
"No. No, you've got to keep this appointment."
For a moment Wendy looked at her husband with wide, questioning eyes, a little surprised. Robert seemed so intense.
"I - I mean - she made quite a point of it." Robert continued. "She - she wants to get to know you better. You know what people say," he added lightly. "A man is judged by his wife, darling. I sometimes think I wouldn't have been elected if it hadn't been for you. The people were voting for you as much as for me."
"Oh Robert, that's silly."
"No, it's not. People do judge men by their wives. Mrs. Scott can do a lot for us - for me. So, please, keep the appointment for tomorrow."
"Well, of course, Robert, if it means that much to you."
Robert smiled back at her and relaxed. Not that that was out of the way he could enjoy the fine food. He took another sip of wine and let it trickle down his throat. Again, he had some vague recollection of the drinks he had enjoyed at Mrs. Scott's. Could she have put something in them? The next moment he shook off the thought. Ridiculous! Why would she do anything like that?
They finished the meal in relative silence. Robert retired to the living room and started to read the evening paper. In a matter of moments he dozed off and fell asleep. When Wendy finished clearing the table and stacking the dishes she came in and found him dead to the world. He was snoring. Her shoulders sagged disappointedly. She had hoped that they would have a nice cozy evening together; their first since their return from their honeymoon. Then, maybe another chance at getting together in bed. She was selfish, she told herself. Robert had probably had a hard day. She must train herself to wait until he was in the right mood. She made a mental note to herself not to fail him again and went upstairs to the den and watched television, dozing off in the middle of the "Tomorrow" show, and didn't stir again until the mornings sunlight crept in through the blinds. When she went into the bedroom, Robert was sound asleep in bed. He had evidently wakened, moved up to the bedroom, undressed and promptly fallen asleep again. He was still snoring.
Gunnar Wyberg arrived at Mrs. Scott's exactly on time. If anything, he was a little early. He was admitted by the venerable Mrs. Higgins and ushered into the living room.
"Would you care for anything to drink, sir?" Mrs. Higgins inquired.
"Sure, okay. Scotch on the rocks?" "Certainly, sir." Mrs. Higgins went to prepare the drinks. "What a crude man!" she muttered to herself. He reminds me of an animal, she went on thinking. Was there really a woman in the world who could accept and enjoy such a man if he weren't powerful and wealthy. Probably, she decided. God makes all kinds and the Devil takes what he needs for his own purposes.
As she returned to him with the drink, Mrs. Scott came down the stairs and also entered the room. "Oh, you're here. Good. Before Mrs. Pearson arrives I want to brief you on a few things. Bring your drink upstairs."
She turned and went back to the stairs. Gunnar took his drink from Mrs. Higgins and followed her up to the bedroom.
"This is where you and she will eventually wind up - that is, after she has seen her husband on television. Well show those in the den."
Mrs. Scott went on to point out the two - way mirrors and the video tape recording equipment in the corridor that ringed the room. Gunnar laughed coarsely. He was already beginning to enjoy himself.
"Looks like one of those haunted houses in a mystery movie."
"There is no such thing as a "Haunted House." Mrs. Scott told him sharply.
"Oh! Well, if you say so. I wouldn't know." he grinned.
"Now remember, use your imagination. I want you to treat her like the cheapest and most common of whores. I'm sure you know just what I mean."
"Lady, I know exactly what you mean. Don't worry. You'll get everything you want."
Mrs. Scott and Gunnar Wyberg had already moved to the den when the door chime announced the presence of the young unsuspecting Wendy Pearson. Mrs. Scott glanced at her watch. It was three o'clock on the dot. Robert had trained his wife to be punctual at least. Mrs. Scott nodded at Gunnar and re - filled his cup with tea. There would be no more drinks served this afternoon - not until much later at least. Gunnar sipped the bland liquid and tried to concentrate on what was in store for Wendy Pearson - and himself.
Mrs. Higgins opened the door to Wendy and promptly led her upstairs to the den. "Mrs. Pearson, Madame." She announced to Mrs. Scott and Gunnar.
"My dear! How nice of you to join us!" Mrs. Scott gushed and rose to greet the young bride. "This is Gunnar Wyberg, a good friend of mine. Do sit down, my dear."
Wendy took the preferred seat and crossed her legs primly. She was dressed rather warmly for the day in quite a severe afternoon dress. She had chosen it on purpose. It was of a dark wool, quite plain. The hem was slightly longer than the current fashion. Underneath she had chosen a fairly confining bra, a full length panty - girdle and dark panty - hose. Her heels were medium height.
Mrs. Scott surveyed the young woman who sat there so haughtily and could hardly contain a smirk of contempt. An hour from now she wouldn't be so proud, the "True Believer" thought. But she only smiled sweetly and said, "Won't you join us in some tea?"
"Thank you," Wendy answered politely and lowered her eyes. She had caught a glimpse of this Mr. Wyberg, whoever he was, leering at her, practically undressing her with his eyes. He made her nervous.
Mrs. Scott poured the tea with a practiced hand, passed it to Wendy and went on making small talk that really wasn't so small.
"Mr. Wyberg is a very influential man in the community. I took the liberty of inviting him to meet you. He can be of great value in Robert's - uh - I mean, the District Attorney's career. That is, if we can persuade him." she finished with a smile.
"Oh," Wendy did her best to turn on a pleasant expression in Gunnar's direction. "Well, I - I'm sure my husband is grateful for all the support he can get." she said politely. "What business are you in, Mr. Wyberg?"
"Business!" Gunnar was taken aback for an instant. Mrs. Scott filled the breech immediately. "Mr. Wyberg has many interests; Real Estate, Travel agencies, Insurance, several small hotels - just to mention a few."
"I see," Wendy sipped her tea. "It's strange that we haven't met before."
"Well, I - I'm outta town a lot." Gunnar finally managed to find his tongue as he ran his eyes up and down this outwardly prim and proper young miss.
Wendy took another sip of tea and then moved the conversation along. She was anxious to know why Mrs. Scott had insisted that she come over, and even more anxious to leave the place. The whole atmosphere, including Mrs. Scott and Mr. Wyberg, gave her the creeps somehow. "Well, now. My husband said that you had something to discuss with me. Could we get started? I did have another appointment this afternoon and I..."
"Oh, of course, my dear. Certainly." As Maryanne spoke she began pressing a panel of buttons on the end table near her seat. The draperies came together blocking out the sunlight, and a fairly large, unusual television set was revealed. "I know how much help you have been to Robert during his campaign, and I'm sure you want to be of even more help to him during his term of office."
"Of course." Wendy replied, and continued to wonder what the woman was leading up to. A television set. What was this all about?
Meanwhile, Maryanne kept up a steady conversational drone. "You are quite young, my dear, if you'll forgive me for saying so, and judging by what Bud tells me, fairly inexperienced."
"Bud?" Wendy thought. No one ever calls Robert "Bud" except some of his college buddies. First she calls him Robert, now she calls him "Bud". Where does she get off, Wendy asked herself, and bit her lip not to say anything.
"You - you and my husband seem to be quite well acquainted," she blurted out as her face flushed and she found herself becoming angry at the older woman's familiarity.
"That we are, Wendy. Before we begin our little talk, I thought you would like to know just how well acquainted we've become. So, I've prepared this bit of'entertainment' for you."
With that, she snapped off the one remaining light in the room and activated the television screen. Robert appeared on the screen, twice as large as life. It was at the point at which Robert had begun disrobing. He was unbuckling his trousers and had difficulty getting them off over his shoes. Almost falling to the floor, he sat down and yanked at his shoes, throwing them off impatiently. He stood up, removed his trousers and stood there clad only in his undershorts. The noticeably large bulge under them was quite evident. Wendy sucked in her breath with an audible gasp. "Where did you get these pictures? What...?"
"Patience. Patience, my dear. As you can see, no - one is forcing your husband to do what he does."
Wendy did not want to look. She wanted to turn her face from the screen, or better yet, run from the room, but curiosity held her. She sat and stared while Robert waited a moment, then ripped his shorts off his body exposing his fully erect, heavily throbbing cock.
Wendy let out another gasp. Even she had never seen her husband stark naked. He had always been in bed when she came into the bedroom, and clothed in pajamas. She hadn't realized what a large penis he had when it was fully expanded. And what was causing the erection?
She learned in a moment as the camera panned Robert to the sofa and he fell all over himself trying to plant a kiss on Mrs. Scott's face. Wendy reacted again when she saw Maryanne.
"You!" she hissed.
"I'm sorry, my dear." Maryanne answered in a whisper. "But it is time that you learned that men are polygamous creatures."
Meanwhile Robert had awkwardly removed his socks and had done an ungainly pirouette as Maryanne had ordered. My god! Wendy's thoughts tumbled wildly. He's acting like a stupid fool - a clown. Whatever has gotten into him?
Wendy squirmed in her chair as she saw Robert bend to the floor and tenderly remove Mrs. Scott's shoes, take one foot in his hand, massage it and then eagerly begin licking and sucking it.
"Oh, my God!" she wailed. She wanted to hide her eyes. She couldn't stand to look. Yet, she couldn't stand not to look at the incongruous images of her husband on the screen.
Now Robert was on the floor, prostrate, licking and sucking the soles of both feet and sticking his tongue into, on, and between each toe. A quick close - up lingered briefly on Robert's extended cock and the slight bit of cum that oozed from the small slit at the end of it. Mrs. Higgins had done her work well.
Gunnar Wyberg divided his time between trying to watch the television and Wendy Pearson. He was relishing her agony as she watched her husband make a fool of himself on the television screen. He was also enjoying the man's actions. God forbid that he should ever be put under Maryanne's spell.
The film had, by now progressed to Robert's performance as a pet dog. When Wendy saw her husband bouncing on all fours, and sitting up to beg, and being led up the stairs at the end of a leash, she began to cry. Maryanne knew that she had broken completely. She did not want to ply the girl with liquor. She wanted her fully conscious and aware of what she did and what was going to be done to her later. But what she needed obviously, was something to prevent her from going into complete hysteria.
As the picture continued with Robert undressing her, then kissing licking and sucking her all over, Maryanne moved to the bar, poured some water into a small glass, and emptied into it a small vial of clear liquid. It was the combination relaxant - aphrodisiac. She brought it to Wendy quickly.
"Here, dear. This will make you feel better."
Wendy took the glass and automatically started to drink. Then she stopped. "What is it?"
"Water, my dear. Just some water."
Wendy tasted it cautiously. It was really water. At least it tasted just like water and nothing else. She drank deeply. Her entire body was burning with humiliation. Still she could not tear her eyes away from the television. Her husband was going down on the older woman. He was doing the very thing that she had asked him to do on their honeymoon, and he had reacted so violently.
She saw the woman turn over and watched, horrified and fascinated, as Robert stiffened his tongue and put it into the woman's rectum. She wondered what else her prim, straight - laced and oh - so - proper husband would do, and then saw, as Mrs. Scott again turned over and shot her cum into Robert's mouth. She watched him lick, gulp and swallow it. Then, for some strange unknown reason, her own pussy started to become hot and irritated. In spite of her revulsion at the obscene television images she had been watching, she felt her own hands on her body as she began fondling her own breasts and rubbing her hands over her stomach. The potion Mrs. Scott had given her was beginning to take effect.
The light on the television went out. The strained and distraut young woman thought she would scream. Partly over what she had seen, and partly because of her own sexual hungers. God, she was hot! She needed sex, and her drugged mind told her she had to have it now. If her husband could do all those things, why couldn't she have the same privilege? Her squirming jerks and twists had worked her heavy dress up higher on her legs. The sight excited Gunnar even more than the lewd television show had. He began squirming too as he heard Mrs. Scott's voice.
"I'm terribly sorry, my dear," she was saying soothingly to Wendy. "I know this has come as a great shock to you, but really it shouldn't. Now, tell me the truth. You and your husband haven't really had what you would call a good sexual adjustment in your marriage, have you dear?"
Wendy mutely shook her head, and tried to control the intense feeling of sexuality she felt creeping up into her loins.
"Many men are inhibited with their new wives." Mrs. Scott went on. "Even more inhibited than their wives are. But as you saw, deep down, he is a very warm and vital man, ready and willing to do anything that will satisfy a woman."
Wendy nodded and tried to control herself. It was difficult for her to concentrate on what the woman was saying. She herself, was so hot, so excited, she felt like she might cum right there.
"Unfortunately," Maryanne continued. "There is this televised record of your husband's sexual activities. It would be ruinous to his career if anyone ever saw them except us."
"Oh my God! You wouldn't!" she turned toward Mrs. Scott and really saw "The True Believer" for the first time. Maryanne's face was contorted with a smile and expression that was really truly evil. At last, Wendy saw her for what she was - and felt, deep in her gut - the evil that emanated from her.
Chapter Five
Wendy stared at Mrs. Scott in horror. "Oh, no, please - please don't hurt him. I - I'll do anything you say. Anything!
"I thought you would, my dear. You are a very sensible - and I might add - a very sexy young lady. Mr. Wyberg will be most happy to oblige. Won't you, Gunnar?"
Wyberg was having a large problem himself, controlling his own urges. He had never been so hot in his whole life. "Boy, will I ever!" he managed to blurt out.
Maryanne turned back to Wendy. Her voice was like cold steel. "You will obey every instruction given you and do everything you are told. If you do not, these video tapes will be made public."
"No. No, please!"
"Take her into the bedroom!" she ordered Gunnar curtly.
"Okay, doll, let's go." Gunnar managed to get himself and his huge throbbing penis up out of the chair. He took Wendy by the hand and pulled her relentlessly into the bedroom.
Maryanne left by the other door, entered the corridor and found Mrs. Higgins waiting. "Is everything ready?" she asked.
The old one nodded and moistened her lips. Even she was going to enjoy this. It wasn't often that Maryanne had the privilege of degrading two such young, tender souls. She glued her eyes to the camera and prepared again to make a filmed record of Wendy Pearson's fall from grace.
Gunnar wasted no time on formalities once he had Wendy alone in the bedroom. He had even forgotten that the entire incident would be taped. He sat, sprawled on the chaise lounge and began giving the young bride orders.
"Okay, sweet - stuff - let's see your cunt!" When she hesitated he spoke in a harsher tone. "Come on, come on. Strip!"
Wendy's hands instinctively went to the zipper behind her dress. She yanked it completely down, eased her arms out of the sleeves and let it drop to the floor.
"Oh Christ, baby, you've got too many clothes on. Take 'em off. Take 'em off!"
Wendy's mind was torn between the humiliation she felt at showing her body to this completely strange animalistic man and her desire to protect her husband's reputation, get even with him and satisfy her own desires that permeated her entire body from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. She began wiggling out of her panty girdle.
"You women wear the damndest things," Gunnar commented, lewdly, as he watched her pull them over her hips, exposing her dark brown hair on her pubic triangle that showed between her legs.
"Come on, sweetie. Faster. I haven't got all day." he urged her, and had to turn to one side and adjust his thick cock again as it began to jerk involuntarily.
Wendy did her best. She felt herself actually wanting to denude her body before this man. Doing it to save her husband was one thing, but why would she actually want to do it? She hastily removed the rest of her garments.
"That's good. That's real nice, doll. Now the bra. Lemme see those big fat titties you've been hiding!"
With almost studied carefulness, she unclasped her brassiere and let it fall to the floor. Her large, full breasts burst into full view. Gunnar exhaled sharply in appreciation. His mouth began watering again when he saw the hard, pointed nipples jutting out. The potion was doing its work well.
"Come 'ere!" he ordered sharply.
Wendy walked toward him slowly, clad now in only her panties. She caught a glimpse of her swaying tantalizing body in the four mirrors lining the walls of the room. It was like a kaleidescopic effect.
"Siddown!" Wyberg ordered again, and pulled her onto his lap. The twin cheeks of her buttocks felt good even through her panties, rubbing against his lust - hardened cock. He cupped both hands around her firm white breasts and began kneading them, pausing to twist a nipple. Then, pulling her back he planted one of his vilest, wettest kisses on her mouth. His tongue forced her lips wide as the inside of her mouth with his tongue, crushing and pressing her tits at the same time. He held his mouth clamped to hers and began sliding his hands down the sides of her body, over her stomach, past her panties lingering a moment to press a palm against the dark hair on her pussy mound and then dug a finger into her vagina roughly. She tried to moan and squirm away from the brutality of his handling but his hands and arms held her torso tightly while his weight on her face pinned her down.
He fumbled for the top of her panties and ripped them off in one fast motion. Now the black pussy was fully exposed. With another quick move, he released the grip on her mouth, turned her over and began fondling the twin mounds of her smooth white buttocks, gripping her neck and head firmly with his other hand. Her face was buried in his own crotch. He felt her hot breath on his stiff cock even through his own pants. He ran his hand teasingly over each buttock cheek and up and down the warm crevice, pausing to insert a finger in the tiny anal hole. She moaned again as the rough digit violated the small opening. It only served to excite him more. She screwed and twisted his finger up into her, skewering her more firmly.
"Pull down my zipper!" he ordered suddenly. Wendy could hardly move. Her arms and hands flailed helplessly.
"Pull it down, I said." Gunnar repeated in a low, brutal voice. "Pull it down and take it out."
Somehow she managed to raise up sufficiently to get one hand under herself, and in the doing, forced Gunnar's finger further up into her asshole. It didn't feel quite so painful now that the initial insertion had been made. She could feel her own passion mounting, her cunt becoming moist as she felt for the top of his fly and pulled down the zipper.
"Take it out, baby. Take it out and kiss it."
Gunnar lifted her body slightly to enable the impaled girl to carry out his orders. With that motion he worked his free hand between her legs and inserted two fingers into her pussy hole. Now he had her skewered with both hands, front and back. He worked furiously in opposite directions, finger fucking and finger reaming at the same time.
Wendy's hand finally found the enormous organ inside Gunnar's shorts and struggled to release it. Gunnar shifted from side to side as she worked his cock through the opening and brought it out into the open. It came out with a woosh like a coiled spring and stood waving not two inches from her face. She looked at it with a combination of fascination and horror. She had never seen anything so huge - not even in medical books. On the television screen, she had thought that her husband's cock was enormous, but it was nothing compared with the thick, long, blood - filled rod that now tickled her lips, her nose, her chin.
Gunnar dug his fingers again, suddenly and deeper into her asshole and cunt. "Suck it baby. Suck it good!"
Wendy felt a sickening feeling of revulsion engulf her whole being. She had thought' of pleasing Robert this way if he wanted it, but this - this monster - this animal! However, she could not refuse even if she wanted to. And the next moment, she didn't want to. All resistance was gone. She closed her mouth over the head, her teeth scraping the thick skin slightly as she went down.
"Easy! Easy, you fucking bitch. You bite me again and I'll slap you senseless. I said 'suck it'!"
Wendy relaxed her mouth slightly, opening her lips a bit and trying to keep her teeth out of the way. Then with a slow, sawing motion, up and down, up and down, she began fucking herself in the mouth with Gunnar's throbbing rod. Her own cunthole was dripping now as Gunnar worked a third finger into it.
Gunnar permitted himself a glance into one of the mirrors. Anyway or side he looked he could see the helpless girl, lying face down on his lap, sucking his cock and with his own fingers and hands torturing her asshole and cunt unmercifully.
Behind the two - way mirrors, both Maryanne and her assistant were enjoying the view as voyeurs. Maryanne's breath began coming in short gasps as she, herself, began feeling heat creeping up between her legs. "Now strip her," she hissed. "Strip her and fuck her."
Gunnar could not possibly have heard her whisper inside the bedroom, but almost as if he had telepathy he removed his hands from inside Wendy's tenderest parts, shoved her head and mouth deep down on his cock - head, reaching into the lowest region of her throat he could reach, then yanked her head back quickly and literally threw her on the bed. He was a man of enormous strength with thick biceps and heavy muscles. She was like a feather in his arms.
She landed on her back and just lay there, panting for breath. Wendy was too weak physically, and too far gone passionately, to resist any suggestion or order the man might give her. Gunnar ripped off his coat and shirt, unbuckled his belt, dropped his pants to the floor and stripped off his shirt. He, too, was now naked, except for his shoes and socks. He moved to the foot of the bed as Wendy had raised her legs, exposing the pink, moist slit of her vagina to the full expanse of his view.
"That's it, bitch. Hold it, just like that!"
Wendy paused, feet in the air, legs apart, and watched, horrified as Gunnar climbed between her legs and over her, his cock rubbing over the wet flesh of her open - spread vagina. Her clitoris poked up at the top of the thin hair lined slit and throbbed.
"Now I'm gonna fuck you, you little whore. Fuck you like you never been fucked before!" Gunnar promised as he took the thick head in his hand and guided it toward the soft, fleshy lips of her cunt.
Wendy was aghast at the enormous size of his male member.
"Oh, God! Please - please don't hurt me." she found herself begging. She couldn't take something as large as that. She just couldn't imagine herself filled with that enormous monster cock. It had been all she could do to get her mouth and lips around it. How could she take it into her small, tight vagina? He would kill her. She knew it. Yet, somehow, perversely, she wanted it. She could not contain the longing and passion she felt. It was partly the potion she had had, and partly the frustration she remembered when she had tried to have 'normal' intercourse with her husband.
"Hurt you? You'll love it!" Gunnar answered. "Tell me how much you love it!"
"I - I love it," she whispered.
"I can't hear you. Tell me louder, whore. Say 'fuck me'."
"I can't." Wendy buried her face in her hands. "Oh yes, you can." Gunnar pressed forward and shoved. Moist and wet and ready as she was, the young girl's cunt slit could not fully accomodate a cock the size of his. He wormed half of it into her and she screamed. " Aaaaauuuughhh!"
"Say it, say it!" Gunnar kept urging and inched the great rod inside still further.
"Oh God, yes. Fuck me! FUCK ME!" "Say - please."
"Please, fuck me! Oh, God! Aaaauugghh!"
Wendy thought she would faint as Gunnar gave one last heave and shoved his cock up into her to the hilt. His balls slapped lewdly against her ass cheeks. He had cruelly lifted her legs higher and higher - wider and wider - forcing them back against her breasts and face. She was rolled up now into a tight little ball. Gunnar reached behind her and grasped both ass cheeks. He pressed her in close and began a slow, rocking motion. Slowly, one hand went to her exposed clit above his prick. The girl was helpless under him. Great tears welled up in her eyes, but this only made him angry.
"Stop crying, you silly cunt." and he clamped his mouth to hers and completed her humiliation with his tongue.
Wendy could not contain herself. Her entire body rose up to meet every thrust. She met fuck for fuck, and began pounding her cunt against a man she wouldn't have spit on an hour ago. A great shudder ran through her entire body. It was as if the top of her head had suddenly flown off.
"Auurrrgghh! Christ! I'm cumming. I'm cumming!" and she gave herself up completely to the human animal who was sunk deeply inside her tight quivering little belly.
The cries, the moans and the sudden eruption of the new bride was more than Gunnar could stand. He had wanted to hold off, prolong this, but he couldn't. Despite his control, he suddenly jerked, yelled and shot a hot jet of boiling cum deep into her quivering cunt.
"Great, baby! Great!" he grunted and shoved against her a final time. He lay still for a moment, his large frame completely covering her.
Inside the corridor, Maryanne hissed again. "Get up. Get up so we can see her laying there."
Gunnar wearily pulled himself out of Wendy's vagina. He was spent, and so was his cock. It was still large, even when deflated. It hung dejectedly, still oozing cum. He backed off from the bed, giving the cameras an opportunity to photograph every inch of Wendy's violated body. Her lovely dark pubic hair glistened, partially with her own cum, partially with that the brutish man had ejaculated into her. Her legs were still spread obscenely apart as if she hadn't the strength left to close them. Mrs. Higgins panned and tilted the camera slowly, taking in every inch of the girl's condition.
"Now, the bathroom." Maryanne hissed again.
Gunnar had started into the bathroom but stopped with a sudden thought. Mrs. Scott's telepathic influence was reaching him. He turned back and snarled at the pitiful figure on the bed. "Get up!" he ordered.
"What?"
"I said, 'get up'!" Gunnar repeated. "Come with me.
Wendy slowly lowered her legs and wearily rolled off the bed and got to her feet. She half - stumbled toward Gunnar and followed him into the bathroom.
Gunnar went to the wash basin. He dangled his cock over the edge and put his hand on Wendy's back, rubbing his fingers up and down and tickling her.
"Wash it off," he told her.
Wendy took the giant cock, picked it up gently, turned on the water, soaped her hands and began stroking and washing it while Gunnar continued playing with her back, her smooth round ass cheeks, and her tits. God! he thought, if she keeps this up long enough I'll be ready again.
She rinsed his prick carefully, took a large towel and dried it. "Good. Good girl," he told her. "You learn fast." For a minute he wondered if Mrs. Scott would like him to pee in her face. He felt the urge to urinate. But he reconsidered. All that could come later when Mrs. Scott's purpose had been served and she turned this lovely creature over to him. What a whore she was going to make. All she needed was a little more experience.
"Okay," he grunted, and left her alone to clean herself as best she could. He returned to the bedroom and put his clothes on. Maryanne was waiting for him. "Okay?" he asked.
"Very good, Gunnar." the "True Believer" answered. "You can go now. Leave her to me."
Gunnar finished dressing hastily and started out. Then he turned with another thought. "I will get another crack at her, won't I?"
"Oh, undoubtedly." Maryanne answered. "And when you finish, there can always be a reward for you."
Gunnar stopped at the door. All this and a reward too! He laughed.
Maryanne waved him out. She went to the bathroom, opened the door unceremoniously, with no consideration for privacy, and looked at Wendy who was sitting on the toilet stool.
"Very good, my dear. You performed beautifully. I think that you and your husband and I understand each other. I will let you know when I require your services again."
With that she closed the door and left the room.
Wendy spent at least an hour in the bathroom trying to scrub the uncleanness she felt from her body, but it was no use. The potion was beginning to wear off, but its side effects remained. Despite the revulsions, she could not help admitting that she had been satisfied sexually for the first time in her life. But the way in which it was done was too much. How would she ever face Robert? What would she tell him? Then, she remembered the television film she had seen. He had some explaining to do too. After all, he didn't know about her. She did know about him. Unless ...? A horrible thought crossed her mind. What if - what if Mrs. Scott had taken television tapes of her performance too?!
Mrs. Higgins was, at that moment, taking the cartridges out of the video tape recording machine, even as a dejected and confused young Wendy Pearson went downstairs and left the house.
Robert had left his office early again that afternoon. He had tried to work, to see various committees and individual callers that always occupy a District Attorney's time, but he couldn't. Every time he tried to concentrate, his mind returned to his experience with Mrs. Scott. He had finally been initiated into the mysteries of pure, unadulterated, abandoned sex and the more he savored the memory, the more he realized that he had enjoyed it. Try as he might, he still could not remember the details of his experience, and this annoyed him. He wondered if he had fucked her. It didn't seem to him that he had. He also found himself wondering just why the woman had been so insistent on seeing Wendy. No doubt she would tell him as soon as he went home. So, that's what he decided to do, leave the office early and go home. He would be there waiting for Wendy when she came back from the tea party with Mrs. Scott.
Wendy found him there when she arrived. He was in the study mixing a drink and seemed to be in good spirits.
"Hi, Honey." he greeted her. "Have a good time?"
Wendy's first impulse was one of relief. From his attitude and general mood, Robert evidently suspected nothing. Her next thoughts were ones of anger and contempt. How could he stand there grinning and sipping a drink after what she had seen him do with that woman? But then she remembered that her husband was a charming politician. He was trained to conceal his true feelings and emotions. He undoubtedly didn't know that Mrs. Scott had made a television video tape of his actions. But if he didn't, why had he been so insistent that she keep her appointment with Mrs. Scott? There were no answers to these questions. She debated for a fleet instant what her position and attitude should be. Should she tell him everything that had transpired - confess everything? No! Why should she? The potion that Mrs. Scott had given Wendy was a slight variation of the one she had given Robert. Both contained aphrodisiacs and tranquillizers, but Robert's had been stronger, and was memory erasing to a degree, burying most of his experience and actions deep in his subconscious. Wendy could remember everytlung vividly, every humiliating act she had performed and the way in winch she had permitted herself to be used and enjoyed by that horrible Gunnar Wyberg person.
Her attitude of anger superceded her fear of exposure, but she put on her best smile and resolved not to let her husband know the truth - not just yet anyway. The question in her mind was - would he now make love to her with as much abandon as he had with Mrs. Scott? She intended to find out as quickly as possible.
She went close to him and rubbed herself invitingly against his body, offering her lips to him. When he responded, she kissed him wetly and passionately, her tongue probing deep into his mouth. It was something she hadn't done before, believing as she did, that the man should take the initiative. He pressed himself against her for a moment, then broke away, embarrassed.
"Hey, what did they feed you over there? It's only five o'clock!"
"Believe it or not," she answered gaily. "Nothing. Just tea and a glass of water. But I'll have a drink now, darling. Bring it upstairs while I get out of these warm clothes and make myself a little more comfortable."
With that she swept out of the room, deliberately wiggling her hips as provocatively as possible. Robert watched her with a puzzled expression. What the hell had happened at Mrs. Scott's? Oh well, Wendy would tell him in her own good time. And if she didn't, he'd get it out of her somehow. He mixed himself another drink and one for Wendy and took them into the bedroom.
Wendy had already stripped herself of clothes and was lying stark naked on the bed. She raised her arms to him and beckoned him toward her.
"Why don't you get comfortable too?" she asked suggestively.
"Wendy, for goodness sake - it's only a little after five!"
"So what? Are we making love by the clock, now? Do we have to make love only when it's dark and we can't see each other?" With that she dropped her hand to his leg, inched it up to his crotch and gave his balls a squeeze.
Robert's thoughts became wild. What in hell had gotten into his wife? What had Mrs. Scott told her? He was reasonably sure that the woman didn't want to break up his marriage or ruin him in this town. She had indicated as much. No! He put the thought out of his mind. Maryanne Scott was trying to make his marriage happier. She was trying to break down all the moral do's and don't's that had been instilled in him and Wendy since childhood. She must be something of a psychologist, that woman. Wendy was certainly in the mood for sex, and so was he, now. This time it would be better. He gulped his drink, took another look at his young wife's naked body stretched out on the bed, and began taking his clothes off. He started toward the bathroom when Wendy's voice stopped him. "Don't Robert!" "Don't what?"
"Don't go in there to undress. Take off your clothes in here, where I can see you."
For a moment he was nonplussed. What magic had Mrs. Scott worked on his prim, prissy wife? Then he had a second thought. Perhaps it wasn't his wife that was prim and prissy - maybe it was he, himself. He grinned at her as she sipped at her drink.
"My, we are feeling sexy today, aren't we?"
"I am - I don't know about you," she answered, and rolled her body toward him, spreading her legs and exposing her still hot cuntal slit to his view.
Robert began hastily removing his clothes. For the first time he didn't care about convention, or what was 'proper'. Or even about being gentle with his wife. He literally ripped off his coat, shirt, pants, stumbled out of his shoes, pulled off his shorts and fell on the bed. His arms engulfed Wendy's eager body as she put her drink on a nightstand and wrapped her arms around her husband. She pressed her thighs and pussy into his hardening cock and opened her mouth wide for his tongue.
This was a new, wildly sexual Wendy that Robert had never known before. He could hardly believe it as he moved his hands up and down her back and pressed her breasts with all the fervor of a new and sexual love.
Wendy felt her lubricating juices surging into her cunt and rolled over still further on top of her husband, then slid down his stomach and began tickling his cock with her tongue. "Oh, God! Wendy!"
She began sucking him, and as he erected and hardened into full bloom, turned herself around until she lay with her pussy on his chin. "Do it to me, too." she whispered back at him, hoarsely. "Do it to me."
She sucked at his prick harder, rubbing her lips up and down the head and the sensitive seminal canal. At the same time, she practically forced the lips of her cunt into his mouth. He grabbed at it eagerly with his tongue, found the opening and the extended clitoris and began to return her kisses in kind. Wendy Pearson and her husband were locked in a "69" and giving to each other in a way they had never imagined trying before.
Robert thought he would burst. He had to have her. He wanted to fuck her good and deep and full this time. She was his wife and he wanted her more than anything in the world. With a rough sudden motion, he yanked her head back, grabbed her body, and spreading her legs turned her on the bed. The next minute he was on top of her, searching for the ready moist slit. He shoved his cock into her without further preparation. She gave one small cry and closed her legs around his waist.
Robert jammed his cock into her to the hilt. His toes clawed at the bedspread for leverage trying to probe her cunt deeper. His balls slapped against her naked ass cheeks as she raised herself to meet every thrust. Her belly met his as she gave as much as she received.
Together they swayed, rocked and pounded. Robert raised her legs as much as possible, forcing them back into her breasts, placed both hands on her buttocks and began fondling her tiny, puckered asshole. Wendy gave another small cry. "Auuugh, that's marvelous. More. More, darling."
He inserted a finger and wormed it into the tight, resisting little hole. The next moment he felt Wendy's hands on his ass. She was pressing him in. Her finger, too found his anal opening and was probing it.
They impaled each other deeper and deeper and before he could stop himself, he spurted his hot, scalding cum deep, deep down inside her. They finally made it. They were at last, one. Locked together in the heat of unabashed passion, they had both had a simultaneous orgasm that left them limp and exhausted.
"Oh, my God!" Robert managed to gasp as his cock jerked for a final time and he began going soft.
Wendy wondered what lay in store for them now. As angry as she had been at Mrs. Scott earlier - as humiliated as she had felt when she had been forced to give herself to Gunnary Wyberg, this experience with her husband had made it all seem like a dream, a nightmare to be forgotten. She had made it with Robert, and everything was going to be all right!
Chapter Six
A few days later, District Attorney Pearson received a visit from Mrs. Scott in his office. Although he was quite busy, he didn't dare keep her waiting.
"Show Mrs. Scott in," he told his secretary, "and I'll take no calls until she leaves. I don't wish to be disturbed for any thing."
"Yes, sir," the young girl murmured, and went out to fetch Mrs. Scott.
Robert found himself watching her behind swing from side to side as the attractive young girl left his office. It was something he wouldn't have noticed a week ago. His experience with Mrs. Scott and finally with Wendy had definitely made him 'sex conscious'. He was looking at attractive women and girls with an entirely different eye. He measured, theoretically, the size of their breasts, noticed the shape and contour of their thighs and legs, visualized their pussies, and definitely enjoyed watching the cheeks of their asses bounce and sway from side to side as they walked. He was also finding his own sexual capacity and desires becoming more frequent. Robert had always been' an intense young man. He had been taught that work and study came first, pleasure second. Now, he was conscious of his throbbing cock stirring inside his pants with greater and greater frequency. Many times during the day he had to shift his position to keep it from becoming too uncomfortable and will himself to concentrate on the matters at hand.
He rose to welcome Mrs. Scott's entrance, smiled and assumed his best and most charming manner. "Mrs. Scott - Maryanne - how good to see you again."
"Hello, Bud," she replied. She had no intention of permitting the District Attorney to forget their intimacies. She wasn't sure whether Wendy had told him about the Video - taped record she had made, but if Wendy hadn't, she would, in due time, and if it suited her purpose.
"Do sit down." The young District Attorney said, almost obsiquiously. "I trust you've come to discuss our Special Committee?"
Maryanne took the proffered chair, crossed her legs provocatively, showing a vast expanse of leg and thigh, and lit a cigarette.
"Well, frankly, Bud, no. There is more urgent, important business at hand."
"Oh, really? Well, let's have it. I'm all ears."
"First - tell me how your wife and you are getting along."
"Getting along?" Robert was a little puzzled by the question. "Why, fine. Just fine. Why?"
"Have you noticed any change in her?"
Robert paused for a moment. He wasn't quite sure what the woman was getting at, but he had an idea it was probably sexual. He knew that he had indulged in sex in some way with her, even through he still couldn't completely remember the details. There was no reason not to be completely frank with her, he finally decided.
"Well - uh - yes. Now that you mention it," he finally answered. "She - uh - she does seem to be more relaxed, sexually. We - uh - we have a much better relationship now than when we were first married."
"Good. That's what usually happens, and I'm glad."
Robert paused again to bolster up his courage and ask the question that had been on his mind ever since Wendy had returned home from that first tea party at Mrs. Scott's house. "Say, would you tell me something?"
"Anything you wish," Maryanne replied cordially. This fool was going to play right into her hands, just as he had done before. She had been prepared to act the 'heavy'. It wasn't going to be necessary.
"Well, I was wondering." Robert began in his usual hesitant way. "I was wondering just what went on over at your house that afternoon."
"Oh, it was most interesting, Bud. Almost as entertaining as the day you were there. We had some tea and I showed Wendy my wonderful video - tapes of you."
Robert's face went white. "Video - tapes?" he managed to stammer. "Of me!?"
"A complete record on video tape of your marvelous antics. Wendy was a little shocked at first, but she soon recovered."
"Antics? What - uh - what kind of antics?"
"You mean you don't remember?"
Robert shook his head negatively and admitted that his actions were a little hazy in his memory. Whereupon, Mrs. Scott gave him a blow - by - blow, suck - by - suck account of the paces she had put him through, including the bit with the dog leash. As she spoke, Robert began blushing a deep crimson. He rose from his chair and went to the window. He couldn't face the woman while she recounted his lewd, degrading and obscene acts.
Finally, he interrupted long enough for one question. "You - you mean you were taping everything I did?"
Maryanne merely nodded, smiled and took a deep drag on her cigarette.
"And - and you showed these tapes to Wendy?"
Maryanne gave him another nod with an amused smile.
"But she - she didn't say anything to me about it!"
"Of course not, Bud. She rather liked the idea of finding out that you were a real man - a human being instead of a human computer. What was her reaction to you in bed after that?"
"Great! She didn't seem like the same woman!"
"That's right. And you aren't the same man. I'm sure she enjoys the new Robert Pearson. You should both be grateful to me for what I did."
"Oh, I am - I am, Mrs. Scott, believe me."
"Good. I expect that, deep down, Wendy is too. You see, she had quite an experience at our little tea party also."
"Experience!"
"Yes, indeed!"
Maryanne now launched into a minute, detailed account of Wendy's actions with Gunnar Wyberg. She left out nothing. Robert began twisting his hands, rubbing his neck and finally loosening his tie. "I - I don't believe it!" he finally blurted.
"Bud, you know I never lie. If you doubt me, come to the house, and I'll show you my video tapes of Wendy."
"Oh, my God! Oh, you - you bitch!"
"Not quite, but you're close." Maryanne smiled again and lit another cigarette.
Robert turned and perhaps for the very first time really looked at the woman closely. As she sat there, exhaling a stream of cigarette smoke from her mouth and nostrils, Robert had the same fleeting insight into what and who this woman really was as Wendy had experienced. His puritan, logical mind refused to accept it, but he couldn't rid himself of the feeling that this woman was, somehow, the embodiment of 'evil'.
Meanwhile, Maryanne continued her conversation. "The man in question - the one I told you about - is outside. I think it's about time you met him."
"You mean - here?"
"Of course, Mr. Wyberg is a business man, just like you. He has some business to discuss. Would you ask your secretary to have him come in?"
Robert moistened his lips. He didn't like the way things were going at all. But what could he do? He pressed the intercom on his desk and asked the girl in the outer office to send Mr. Wyberg in.
In a moment, Gunnar Wyberg strode into the District Attorney's office. He was, as usual, attired in the latest fashion and the most expensive, tailor - made suit that money could buy. But in Gunnar's case, the clothes were wasted. No matter how much he spent on clothes, they somehow always looked as if they had been slept in.
"Mr. Wyberg, meet District Attorney Robert Pearson," Maryanne made the introductions.
Robert shook hands with the ungainly man reluctantly. "How do you do, Mr. Wyberg. Won't you sit down?"
"Don't mind if I do." Gunnar grinned. "Nice little office you've got here. You oughta have a bigger one - your honor." he stated with over - enthusiasm in a loud coarse voice. "Have a cigar."
"No, thank you." The District Attorney replied and hoped he wasn't offending the man. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was in trouble - big trouble.
"All right, Gunnar," Maryanne picked up the ball and ran with it. "The District Attorney is a busy man. Let's get down to business."
"Sure, sure. Well, Mr. District Attorney ..." he began.
"You can call him Bud, Gunnar. All his friends call him Bud, isn't that so, Bud?"
"Uh - uh, yes, certainly. Any friend of Maryanne's is a - a friend of mine." Robert managed one of his cliches.
"Great! Okay, Bud, this is the deal, see. My associates and me have got a pretty good thing goin' in the city. Oh, it extends into the county too, but the city is our biggest operation - especially during conventions. Know what I mean?"
Robert squirmed in his seat. The name 'Gunnar Wyberg' was beginning to ring a bell. He had been told about a vice ring when he had been running for election. Gunnar Wyberg's name had been whispered as the head man.
"No - no, Mr. Wyberg." he was stalling for time. "I - uh - I'm not sure quite what you do mean."
"Oh, in that case, I'll just lay it right on the line. You play ball with us, we play ball with you."
"What - what kind of ball?"
"Just see to it that there ain't no trouble here. Now, I know you ran your campaign on a platform of 'clean up vice' and all that other crap, and well even help you with that, too. You can have your boys make a couple of raids now and then. We'll even give you a couple of guys to arrest and bring charges against. But no rough stuff. Understand? My book parlors and houses continue just like before. And no narc raps, either."
Robert swallowed hard and looked at Mrs. Scott. She merely smiled, crossed her legs and gazed innocently out the window.
"That's the way it is, Bud." she remarked. "But the people - " Robert protested. "They'll crucify me. If I don't do what I promised, they'll never elect me again!"
"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that," Maryanne replied calmly. "You have powerful forces on your side now, Bud. You'd be surprised what can be accomplished. The 'people' can be manipulated to do almost anything, if they're approached in the right way!" "She's right," Gunnar put in. Robert struggled with his conclusion for a long moment, then finally shoved his chair to the wall and got up. "No. No, I won't do it! I can't do it!"
"I think you will do it, Bud. Even if you don't care about yourself, surely you wouldn't want your wife disgraced along with you."
"My wife? You can't prove anything. Anyway, how do I know you're telling the truth? It could all be a pack of lies. You're good at that!"
"Yes, indeed I am." Maryanne kept her cool. "But in this case I am not lying. If you don't believe me, come over to my home again and I'll show you her little video tapes."
Robert's mouth dropped to the floor. He had to steady himself on the chair. "You - took pictures of her, too?"
"Excellent shots, my dear District Attorney. I think you'd enjoy seeing them."
"Yeah," Gunnar chimed in. "She was a great fuck. Hot little bitch."
Robert Pearson wanted to punch the man in the mouth, but he knew it would do no good. He was no match for the man physically and certainly no match for Mrs. Scott mentally.
"Don't be so blue, Bud. Things could be a lot worse. Gunnar here, will see to it that the city gets a handsome payoff. You'll be able to lower taxes for the property owners and the whole town will be grateful for you."
"Sure!" Gunnar agreed. "Unless, of course, you'd rather put the dough in your own pocket. Who's to know?"
"Of course not!" Robert replied, vehemently. "I wouldn't take a dime of your filthy money!"
Maryanne shrugged. "That's entirely up to you. Meanwhile, we understand each other. You don't interfere with Gunnar, and your reputation, and Wendy's, remains a safe secret with us." She rose and turned to Wyberg. "I think that's all for now, Gunnar. We mustn't take up any more of the District Attorney's time. He's a very busy man."
"So long, Bud," Wyberg threw over Ins shoulder, as he and Mrs. Scott left the office.
Robert Pearson slumped back into his chair. What in heaven's name was he going to do? What could he possibly do? The answer came almost immediately. Nothing! Mrs. Scott and Gunnar Wyberg now ran the town. He was the people's representative in name only!
Mrs. Scott and Gunnar Wyberg took full advantage of their power over the District Attorney. Maryanne envisioned and made plans for further 'parties', while Wyberg opened more houses of prostitution and crooked gambling joints. There wasn't a thing the District Attorney could do about it.
Wyberg was as circumspect as possible but it didn't take long before the word got around that the city was 'a wide open town'. Whores from all over the country flocked in. The town council and Chamber of Commerce were torn between their puritanical horror, and the tremendous amount of business that gambling and prostitution brought into the city coffers by virtue of the number of organizations that suddenly found the town an ideal place in which to hold their conventions.
Gunnar Wyberg, true to his word, and checked by Maryanne, took out all proper licenses and saw to it that the City's Treasurer received all taxes due from his illegal operations. From time to time, when self - styled "Clean - up Groups" and Committees visited District Attorney Pearson to complain about the 'appalling conditions' in their fair city, Robert denied allegations vehemently, professed to know nothing about what was going on, and pointed with pride to the abundant amount of money in the treasury and the fact that the surplus enabled him to authorize new schools, playgrounds, parks, and other advantages to the city at no extra cost to the tax - payers.
Mrs. Scott, also took full advantage of the city's growth. The more industry and new population acquired by the city, the more constant and lavish her parties became. Soon, she was the most sought - after hostess in town. All the bigwigs vied to be invited to her home. Gradually, and with perfect timing, Maryanne saw to it that the entertainment provided became more interesting. As the liquor flowed in greater abundance, as her guests began to lose their inhibitions, she introduced wilder and new games into the proceedings.
Most of those favored with her invitations were in the age group between early thirty and middle forty. Most had been married anywhere from five to ten years or longer, and most of them had begun to tire of their partners where sex was concerned. Their bedroom activities, mostly were simply a matter of routine. They went through the motions, but they did not really enjoy themselves any longer.
To enhance their pleasure and titillate their excitement, Mrs. Scott always managed to come up with some new variation on sex play. For example, she introduced a childhood game called "Post Office" with new and adult variations. As she explained to the gathering when they were in the proper mood, and sufficiently uninhibited from the liquor and potions, "Now, I'm sure you all remember Post Office from when you were children. Well, this is just an adult version. In Post Office it is always the girl who has the privilege of choosing who she wants to deliver the mail. So - all the girls line up on one side of the room, and all the men on the other."
As she announced the rules, Mrs. Higgins quietly passed among the guests and handed out note paper and envelopes and the refined ladies and gentlemen obeyed Mrs. Scott's instructions to separate female and male.
"Mrs. Higgins is providing you all with paper, pencils and envelopes. Each girl will write the name of the man on the envelope and print a note to him, giving him any instructions you wish."
"We only have so many rooms here, so you will have to take turns. All deliveries will be made in closets, bathrooms or the kitchen. All these rooms will be totally dark. When Mrs. Higgins takes your envelope, she will give you a number. When your number is called you will find out your address and go there."
While the ladies wrote their notes, the men gulped their drinks and wondered uneasily who would choose them.
District Attorney Pearson, was of course, one of the first men to receive a letter for delivery. Wendy was one of the first seven ladies to be assigned an address. It turned out to be a small closet off the master bedroom. She wasn't sure that she was going to like this game, but like everyone else, she could not afford to offend Mrs. Scott. She wondered who would choose Robert. She herself had picked a rather good looking young man who had been introduced to her only that evening, a Jim Barnes, she thought. At the moment when she opened the closet door, went in and closed it, she couldn't quite remember if the name had been Barnes or Burns. Barnes, she thought. The Jim part she was sure of. He seemed to be in his early thirties, tall, quite slim.
The door opened and two hands reached out and fumbled for her in the darkness. She would have liked to ask some questions, but that was against the rules of the game.
It was exciting to be kissed and caressed when she wasn't even sure it was the man she had sent the note to. He found the zipper on her dress and pulled it down slowly. Wendy hadn't worn too much underclothing tonight. She wore only a small bra under her dress - not even panties. She felt Jim's hands fumbling for her bra. She pressed in close to him, allowed her hand to drop down and finger his fly, looking for his zipper. She pulled it down just as he loosened her bra and pulled both it and her dress over her arms and down to her waist. She felt inside the man's shorts and found his hard cock - head. It was already hot and throbbing. Jim inched her dress down over her hips and let it drop to the floor. She felt for his belt buckle, undid it, and unbuttoned his shirt. His pants dropped to the floor beside her dress and he stepped out of it. She ripped his shorts below his hips and pressed her pussy to his cock.
"Oh, God!" he moaned. "Who are you. Oh, God!"
"Your lover." she answered, in a whisper. "Kiss me!"
The man was more than willing. He dropped to his knees and began sucking and licking her hot little cunt. "That's it, darling. Suck it, kiss it, lick it. Faster!"
Finally, standing there in the dark she felt her cum gushing down her legs as she shuddered in a sudden orgasm.
"Oh, that's so good! Now you!"
She dropped to her knees as he stood up and she found the head of his throbbing cock, thrust out her tongue to the tip of it and started teasing Ins balls. Jim let out a moan and shoved his rod deep into her throat. She felt the canal jerk and jump and she knew he was ready. A gush of thick hot cum spurted into her mouth. She had never tasted cum before. It was good. She milked him dry while he moaned and groaned like a man totally engrossed in his own pleasure.
"You can go, now," she said finally. "There may be other people wanting to use this closet."
The man pulled on his clothes in a hurry, as Wendy stroked his back and face. He gave her another deep kiss on the mouth.
"Any time, Mam," he said in answer to her whispered thanks. "Any time at all!"
Chapter Seven
Robert, meanwhile, had been given a letter addressed to "Bathroom in servant's quarters, downstairs, third door to the right off the corridor. He had no idea who had chosen him to be her mailman, but the thought of making love to an unknown woman excited him. He went down the backstairs, fumbling through the darkened corridor, finally finding his way to the third door to the right. He went in, adjusting his eyes to the dim light reflecting from the window, saw another door, decided it must be the bathroom and went inside. He could feel with his hands it was a well - rounded figure. He couldn't think of a thing to say.
"Yes?" came from the darkness, "Are you the mailman?"
Robert found his voice. "Uh - yes. The letter said the bathroom in the servant's quarters. Is this the right place."
"It's the right place," the low, husky voice replied.
Two hands pulled him in and placed his hands around her body. He could feel that she was totally naked. Sinking to the floor, she pulled Robert down with her.
"Take off your clothes, Mr. District Attorney." Robert needed no further urging. He stripped as quickly as he could, leaving everything where it landed on the floor. His hands reached out and played with her body, his fingers and palms running lightly over her full rounded buttocks, her stomach, her thighs, legs and tits. Who in the hell was she, Robert wondered? Whoever she was, she was exciting him beyond endurance. She rolled over on top of him and began playing with his face with her mouth. She kissed his nose and his eyes, blew hot breath in his ear, and gradually eased her moist pussy down over his cock, pushing it into the warm wet cavern of her waiting, hungrily clasping cunt.
She was the one who was doing all the work. She was fucking him! She rode him as though he were a horse. She bounced, weaved and slid from side to side on his throbbing cock, reared back and lurched forward and kissed him ravenously. He had never had a woman make love to him like that before and he loved it!
"Oooohhh!" she moaned. "You're wonderful Mr. District Attorney! Fuck me! Harder! Harder!!"
Robert shoved as deeply as he could. "Oh, I'm cuuuummmiinng! I'm cuuummmiiinng! Come with me, please!"
Robert fucked as hard as he could, but he couldn't make it. "Oh, that was great! she whispered. "I knew you would be. But you didn't cum!"
"I'm sorry." he whispered back.
"Don't be sorry. I'll make you cum. I'll make you happy. Let me try. Get up on your knees."
Robert did as he was ordered, wondering what she had in mind. She knelt in front of him, and took his large, now limp member in her mouth. "Now, fuck me, darling," she said, her tongue swirling and licking and sucking. "Fuck me in the face!"
As he shoved forward, he could feel her throat open and she took almost his whole length, still sucking and licking, and playing with his balls with her hands. He had a mental picture of his huge rod going straight down her throat, and the thought excited him so much, he could feel the familiar stirring and his throbbing cock immediately regained its hardness and length. My God, he thought. I didn't know anyone on earth could take all that length into their throat. That much would gag most people. He fucked forward again, and suddenly he could feel his hot cum, gushing down the length of his penis and bursting forth into her mouth. He could feel her throat working and swallowing, and the feeling excited him even more, until he thought she would milk him of every drop he had in his body.
"Aaaaarrrgggghhh, Aaaarrrgghh!" He roared, in the sudden release, and felt as if it was cumming clear up from his toenails.
"My God, that was fantastic!" he cried, as soon as he could get his breath again, after the force of his orgasm had been spent. "I never felt anything like that in my entire life!"
"You'll have to go now, darling. We're not allowed to keep our address too long, as other people are waiting." Robert scrambled into his clothes in the dark, wondering who he had just fucked in the mouth, and wondering if he would know her if she met him on the street. He wouldn't mind having a return engagement with that one, he thought. He wondered idly who was with Wendy. It was funny not knowing who you had the experience with, and somehow made it even more exciting.
While Wendy and Robert had been having pleasure with their unseen sex partners, the other guests were having equally abandoned fun. Mrs. Scott's party was a huge success. She and Mrs. Higgins also participated, manning their video taping equipment equipped with infra - red film that recorded every lewd act that her guests had performed.
Later that night, after everyone had wended their exhausted way homeward, Maryanne and her assistant offered themselves up again to The Master. The black candles in the chapel burned with even greater brightness than ever before. The incantations were more intense and they evidently were well received. Maryanne had succeeded in degrading and overpowering practically everyone of importance in the entire community. For this she would surely receive a special reward.
Mrs. Higgins, however was not as pleased with Maryanne. When they completed their obedience to Their Master, the Aga Shah, and were about to retire, Mrs. Higgins stopped her Mistress in the hallway.
"You did not ask Him," she said.
"I'm sorry. It slipped my mind." Maryanne lied.
"Tomorrow?" Mrs. Higgins asked.
"Yes, yes, of course. I promise. Good night." Maryanne left her servant and went to her room. Mrs. Higgins, however, did not retire immediately.
She went back into the Chapel. She had had quite enough of Mrs. Scott's lies and promises. She was certain that she had earned her right to become a True Believer and she intended to become one. With all the fervor she could command, and calling on every incantation she could remember, she begged The Master to honor his promise.
"Help me!" she pleaded. "Help me, and I will help you. Freedom for me will mean freedom for you."
A strange black light began to pervade the Chapel and the woman knew she had received an answer. No sound was heard, but she knew and understood. Someone would come to teach Maryanne a lesson - a much needed lesson. The Master was becoming impatient with Maryanne. Mrs. Higgins had earned her right to become a True Believer, and she would become one. The Master had made her a promise!
Gunnar Wyberg's operation in the city began to rival and out-do that of Chicago during the heyday of Al Capone.
There were prostitutes in every hotel and on every street corner. Every drug store operated a bookie joint in the back. There were lewd shops for any and every curious mind that visited the town. Not even in the old days in Chicago had anything like it been seen. The District Attorney was powerless to stop the orgies, the sale of dope, the prostitution and everything else that appealed to the most erotic interests of both men and women.
Conventioneers loved it. They had but to visit the equivalent of the Old Bowery, sit down and order a drink and be served by waitresses that were not only 'topless' but 'bottomless' as well! Some of the more 'exclusive' places featured shows that went all the way, men and women fucking, women and women going down on each other and sticking dildoes into each other. There were even shows to satisfy the male homosexuals, men sucking each other and fucking each other in the ass.
Nothing was too lewd, obscene or far out for Wyberg's imagination. He was a showman and an entrepreneur who knew what people really wanted to see but wouldn't admit it to themselves. Wyberg gave it to them - in spades.
Wyberg could have virtually any woman in the city he desired, and did. But in the back of his mind was always Wendy. He coveted the District Attorney's wife more than any broad he had ever used and subjected to his own vile imagination.
He remembered Mrs. Scott's promise to give him another crack at the haughty bitch, and he intended to hold her to it. He also remembered her suggestion that when he had had his fill of her, he could have her in one of his houses as a prostitute.
The next day, Wyberg dropped in on Mrs. Scott quite casually and unexpectedly. Maryanne received him most cordially. There were few men in the world that really turned her on, but Gunnar was one of them. He was so gross, so much like an animal. He excited her beyond belief.
She greeted him with a large embrace and kissed him warmly. He returned the greeting half - heartedly and shoved her away.
"Got somthin' to talk with ya about." he informed her.
"Sure, sure, Gunnar, anything. What's on your mind?"
"It's about that little bitch, the District Attorney's wife. I dig her. I want her again - only this time, my way. And you said I could have her for one of my houses. You promised."
"Sure, Sure, Gunnar, I remember."
"Good. So then, how's about you setting it up - like for tomorrow night, maybe?"
"Whatever you say." Maryanne felt a heat of passion rush over her body. Gunnar Wyberg was her kind of man, he was a human Devil, walking evil. The closest she could get on earth to getting close to her Master. She got up from her chair, went to the bar and mixed him a drink. She sprinkled it liberally with her most powerful aphrodisiac and handed it to him.
"Scotch on the rocks. Just like you like it." she told him.
"Thanks."
Wyberg took it and drank deeply. Maryanne walked around his chair slowly and began divesting herself of her clothes. At first Gunnar paid little or no attention to her. Finally he did.
"Hey. You ain't got a bad body, doll. Not bad, at all." He gulped more of his drink and felt his prick harden. Maryanne, meanwhile, was doing the most seductive, sexiest strip - tease of which she was capable. The Master had been kind to her and her body was provocative and exciting. She was only wearing a hostess gown, no bra, and no panties. She stripped off the gown and sat on Gunnar's lap.
"I want you," she said, "I want to make you happier than you've ever been in your life."
"That'll be the day." he answered.
"Oh, I don't know. I may have a few tricks you haven't heard of."
"Yeah?" he leared. "Show me!"
"I will," she replied seductively, and went to the bar. " Do you want me to undress you?"
"Naw! I'll do it myself. I don't like women pawing all over my body - unless it might be the District Attorney's wife," he added with a suggestive grin.
Gunnar was now lying prone on the sofa, stark naked except for his shoes and socks. His clothes were strewn on the floor where he had dropped them as he took them off. His prick was limp, but even in repose it was still one of the most magnificent cocks Maryanne had ever seen, or even fantasized about in dreams.
"Not very sexy today," she remarked as she passed the sofa and flicked her finger at the tip of his huge organ.
"Well, I already fucked two kids at one of my houses. One was fifteen and the other only fourteen. They ran away from home and they don't want to be caught and sent home again. Someone recommended them to me."
"Virgins?" Maryanne asked, interested in spite of herself.
"Naw. Who's a virgin these days? Kids lose their cherry before they're old enough to go out to the Junior High dances. It's that damned pill. I don't know what gets into parents these days." Maryanne wanted to keep Gunnar talking about sex, keep his mind on the matter at hand, as it were. She also wanted to keep him talking until the potion she had slipped him began to take effect.
Maryanne had dropped to her knees in front of the sofa and now she carefully bent to his cock and inserted the head of it into her mouth. Gunnar squirmed as he felt her warm mouth begin sucking and her hot tongue and warm lips embracing the head of it. She took his two testicles in her two hands and worked them gently around as if she were kneading cookie dough.
"Hey! That feels good, baby. Ummmm. Roll them around some more. I like it!"
Maryanne could feel the immense throbbing cock begin to stiffen and expand as she sucked and licked, rolled and kneaded the huge male shaft and the pendulous, hairy balls.
"Ummmm, ummm." Gunnar muttered again. "Good. Don't stop."
"I love to lick your cock," she said, and lick it she did, every single inch of it, around and around, up and down, tickling the end with her tongue and sucking with her warm lips. She lapped at it with a wide hungry tongue that soon had Wyberg panting for breath and running his fingers through her hair.
"You're good, baby. You're really good." He began working his cock in and out of her mouth as his erection grew and built, bigger and larger and thicker.
Maryanne knew it was exciting for a man. As she let her mouth tickle down the length of his cock, she went to work with her tongue. No tongue was faster, no lips sucked more greedily. She made the man feel as if every stroke was pure joy, not only for him, but for herself, as well.
His hips began moving and grinding in time to her up and down motion with her mouth. She could feel the canal ready to pulsated. "Not yet, darling. Hold it for a while. Not yet. Turn over."
Gunnar rolled himself over onto his stomach with great reluctance, and Maryanne went to work on the crevice between his ass cheeks. She planted wet kisses on each cheek, licking and caressing them as if they were a baby's. Gradually she started in the crevice between them, nibbling, tickling and biting every quarter inch of the way.
Gunnar's penis was on fire. It was all he could do to keep himself from cumming, all by himself.
"God!" he exclaimed over and over. "Goddamnit! Fuck it, baby! Shit! Goddamn! Son - of - a - bitch! Oh baby, don't stop!"
With that Maryanne rolled him over again. It wasn't easy. She started licking his cock again, kissing in larger and larger circles around the base of it on his bare belly, up the centre of his belly, sucking his small useless nipples, reaming her tongue into his ears, and finally into his gasping mouth. Then she sat down on his huge organ and started pumping. Within a few seconds, she felt him jerk with a groan, and then suddenly with a mightly lurch his cum was shooting like a geyser into her cunt. Maryanne smiled and was satisfied. That would give him something to think about. Gunnar might have the hots for Wendy, but he would long remember this orgasm.
"Happy, lover?" she asked.
"That was the greatest!" he gasped.
"Still want Mrs. Pearson?" Maryanne asked him as she picked up her clothes and started to put them on.
"Aw, lover - you know how it is. Sure. Anyway, she's too high and mighty. I want to bring her down a peg."
"You'll have her. Nine o'clock tonight okay?"
"Promise?" he asked.
"I've always followed through so far, haven't I?"
"Yeah. I'll be here. I'll buy the liquor and the food. This is going to be a party she won't forget for awhile."
Gunnar got up and started dressing. "Hey!" he called to the other room to Maryanne. "How do you know she won't give us no trouble?"
"If she does, we'll take care of it." Maryanne replied. "Just see to it that you aren't too loaded when she gets here."
"Don't worry baby. I will act like a perfect gentleman - up to a point," he finished and gave out with a rude, coarse laugh. "See you tonight, lover. And thanks!"
"Don't mention it," Maryanne called back as she dressed with an expectant smile on her face. She, too, was looking forward to seeing young Wendy Pearson getting it from this brute, as if she was nothing but a whore from off the streets. Maybe it would teach her not to be high - falutin' all the time.
"Mrs. Higgins!" she yelled through the intercom set into the wall.
"Yes?" came the answer, promptly.
"We're having a little party tonight. Get things ready."
"Yes ma'am," Mrs. Higgins replied, seething, and wondered how much longer she would have to take orders from this overbearing woman.
Chapter Eight
Mrs. Scott went directly to the telephone and called Wendy. In firm, commanding tones she ordered the proud little girl to be at her home that evening promptly at eight - thirty.
"But - but, Mrs. Scott - " she protested, "Robert and I have made other plans, and .. !"
"Cancel them!" Maryanne ordered harshly.
"How can I?"
"Simple. Just tell Bud that I have invited you here to meet some people who will be helpful to him, and who can be depended on to donate large sums of money to all of his pet projects. I think he will see reason."
"But..." Wendy began again.
"If he objects, just remind him that I have some excellent video tapes of you both, including several taken with infra - red film during our last party. If he still doesn't see reason, or if you fail to cooperate fully, I will see to it that your activities will be sold to every cheap girlie magazine, and every stag movie outfit in the country. You might also remind him I have some excellent tapes of his antics."
There was a pause. Then finally, with a helpless bitterness in her voice she answered. "What time did you say?"
"Eight - thirty, and don't be late. My guests don't like to be kept waiting." Maryanne hung up abruptly. She smiled to herself. It felt good to make this haughty young miss grovel. She hoped the Master would be pleased. She went to the chapel knelt in front of the large portrait of the Aga Shah and offered up her prayers.
Wendy had no trouble breaking her date with her husband. "Mrs. Scott insisted, darling," she said. "She says she had some people coming over who can help you." "But why only you?"
"I don't know. Maybe its a hen party. Anyway, you're not invited."
"Okay," Robert shrugged. "I'll find something to do. Try not to be too late. He went to her and hugged her close. His timidity toward his wife's body had vanished and he had no compunction about feeling her up and exciting her sexually, even in broad daylight.
By the time Wendy arrived at Mrs. Scott's she was three sheets to the wind from the martinis she and Robert had had before dinner. She had merely pecked at her food, wondering what Mrs. Scott had in mind for the evening. She was reasonably sure it would be something sexual. She hoped that it wouldn't be Gunnar Wyberg again, but deep down inside she had a feeling it would be.
She arrived at Mrs. Scott's house precisely at eight - thirty and rang the door bell. Mrs. Higgins admitted her and beckoned her without a word to follow her up the stairs to the bedroom with the mirrors.
"Mrs. Scott says you should get undressed, take a shower, and wait." she instructed.
"For whom, or for what?"
"I merely follow instructions, Mrs. Pearson, the same as you do." Mrs. Higgins told her and went out and closed the door.
Wendy heaved a sigh, undressed and finally decided to have a soak in the large ebony bathtub. There was something decidedly sexy about a black bathtub and she enjoyed it fully. As she immersed herself in the bubble bath she found herself fingering her own pussy. Well, she thought, Gunnar isn't really that bad', if you don't look at him. She remembered an old saying that "All cats are gray in the dark". She giggled and continued to soak in the bubbles as Wyberg arrived downstairs.
Mrs. Higgins ushered him into the living room where Maryanne was waiting for him with a drink. He took it.
"What's in it, besides Scotch?" he asked suspiciously.
"Nothing," Maryanne replied. "And that's the truth.
Gunnar took a sip and frowned. "Well I want something in it, see? Haven't you got something that'll give me more staying power? You know what I mean."
"Of course I have, lover. Give me your glass." She opened a small drawer, took out a vial, and shook a little of the powder into his drink. She handed the drink back to him. "You'll stay hard for a week with this, lover."
Gunnar tasted it, paused and waited for it to react. He evidently expected results in seconds. He looked at her with a question in his eyes. "I don't feel anything," he said.
"You will, lover. Give it time."
"Is she here yet?"
"Upstairs, waiting for you. Remember, every word you have ever uttered in tins house is on tape."
Gunnar sipped his drink, "And I suppose the video tape will be rolling during my little party?" he stated again.
"Of course, you don't think I would let a chance like this slip by." she murmured suggestively.
"Gimme another drink." Gunnar mumbled.
"Do you think you should? That one was pretty strong? And there's a bottle beside the bed on the night - table."
"Okay. I think I'll go up now."
"Have fun!"
She moved to a hidden microphone as the big man climbed the stairs. His penis was getting larger and larger as he walked, the potion was certainly working. Maryanne spoke sharply into the intercom. "Mrs. Higgins, my guest is coming up to the bedroom. Be ready for him."
"Yes, Ma'am," Mrs. Higgins replied with as much respect in her voice as she could manage. Soon, she thought, soon it will be my turn.
Gunnar pushed into the bedroom, and stopped at finding it empty. "Hey!" he called. "Where are you?"
"I'm in here, Wendy called from the bathroom. He walked through the door and stared at her immersed in a bubble bath.
"Okay," he grunted. "You should be clean enough. Get out!"
Wendy pulled the plug, and let the water drain out, while she still sat surrounded by bubbles. As the water level dropped she became more and more visible to the hungry eyes of the hot and ready man watching. Gunnar could feel his cock swelling to enormous proportions. He didn't know how much was the sight he was looking at and how much of it was caused by the potion Mrs. Scott had given him downstairs.
"Don't move," he said, "I'll be right back." He went back into the bedroom, removed his clothing as fast as possible and went back into the bathroom.
"Get up," Gunnar ordered. "I think I'll have a shower."
Wendy glanced up, saw his huge organ standing out in front of him, and stood up in the bathtub.
My God, she's gorgeous, Gunnar thought. What a great piece of ass. He stepped under the shower and adjusted the water taps. He grabbed her hand and pulled her in with him under the spray. "Okay, bitch, wash my back. Wash me good all over!"
The girl obediently took a cake of soap, working it up into a lather and began soaping the large hairy body from top to bottom. She got down on her knees and began scrubbing his legs and ankles. Gunnar grinned. "That's the way I like you, down on your knees. Now lick it off!"
Wendy tried to use as much of the cascading water as possible to prevent too much soap from getting in her mouth. She licked his wet body up as far as his jutting male rod, and then she began sucking it.
"Good. Good, Baby. You're gonna make a real good whore."
Wendy didn't know what he meant, she didn't like the sound of it, but decided it was just a figure of speech and went on with what she was doing.
"Okay," Gunnar said finally. "Get ready, I'm turning on the cold water." With that he switched off all the hot water and blasted them both with an icy shower. Wendy shivered and goosepimples broke out all over her body. "Keep sucking, baby," Gunnar ordered roughly. "I'll tell you when to stop!"
At long last he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. "Okay, baby, you can dry me off now."
Wendy got up, stepped out and went to the towel rack. She took a large fluffy towel and started rubbing the big man. She again got down on her hands and knees and started rubbing his body dry. "You ain't done the best part," he growled. She dropped the towel and began again sucking his cock, licking the water from it and teasing the head with her tongue.
"Feels good," he grunted again. "Dry it all off and feel me up back there."
She slowly worked her way around his swirling testicles, under his thighs and to his buttocks. Wendy didn't dare offend him or disobey his instructions. Why, oh why did Robert have to be so ambitious? Why did he have to run for District Attorney, and get himself involved with Mrs. Scott? She and Robert could have had such a happy life together. Now it was all ruined.
"Stick it in real good, sweetie," he ordered her, breaking into her thoughts. "Make it stiff and hard."
Wendy stiffened her tongue as much as she possibly could and pressed it into him. He rolled his hips and pressed the cheeks of his ass into her face.
"Now, play with my cock and balls, again."
She reached out her hands, took his great rod in her hands and began rubbing it. She dropped one hand from time to time and teased his testicles.
Gunnar continued rolling his ass from side to side. He was as hot and ready as he could ever remember, but not really to the point of cumming.
Abruptly, he left the bathroom and went into the bedroom and sat down in a large easy chair.
"C'mere!" he ordered.
Wendy followed him and in spite of her revulsion at her hopeless position, felt herself getting passionate at the sight of his huge cock standing at attention in front of him.
"Sit on it!" he ordered again.
She sat on his lap and began slowly forcing her vagina down over the huge throbbing member. The large, animal - like man had but one thought - use her! Humiliate her as much as possible. Gunnar mercilessly pushed his cock up into Wendy's tight, clenching pussy.
"Screw it, bitch! Tell me how much you love it!"
Wendy pressed herself down onto his rod as hard as she could. It rubbed and irritated her cunt walls like sandpaper, but she didn't dare complain. She let out a small moan. "Aaaauugh!"
"It's good, huh?" Gunnar grabbed her head, pulled it back and kissed her deeply on the mouth, probing her throat with his tongue. "Tell me how good it is," he grunted as his mouth and tongue found hers.
"It - it's good," Wendy managed to say as she fought to free her mouth from his thick lips and probing tongue.
"Talk to me nice," Gunnar urged her further, and reamed his heavy cock into her sensitive cunt.
"What - what do you want me to say?" Wendy asked timidly.
"Say what the whores say. Tell me you want my cock in your cunt."
"I - I want your cock in my cunt."
"Tell me how good it is!"
She moaned at him, too frightened not to do his every bidding.
Gunnar was really fucking now and her juices began to flow. In spite of herself she found that she was enjoying this tremendous cock deep up inside her belly. She began moving her ass in time to his thrusts. She needed little urging, but he wanted to hear the sweet young thing say lewd and obscene things.
"Tell me to fuck you."
"Fuck me."
"Beg me for it." he urged. He loved to hear his women degrade themselves with words as well as deeds.
"Please!" Wendy sobbed, tears beginning to flow from her eyes. "Please fuck me."
Gunnar's huge throbbing organ started to get to her. She felt its hard fleshy staff tickling her clitoris. She was getting hot and ready to cum. She began begging in earnest.
"Oh, God, yes. Fuck me. Please fuck me. I - I - I'm cuuummiinng! Ooooohh! I'm cuummmiinng!" and cum she did! She exploded her juices all over Gunnar's hard driving cock as she sat on it and screwed herself onto the huge shaft.
"Was that good?"
"Mmmmm yes, goo - ood!"
"I ain't cum yet. You got yours all over my cock!"
"Oh yes. It was good!"
"Suck it off!"
"What?!"
"You heard me, go down on it now and suck off your cum. Clean it up. Whore."
It was the third time he had called her a whore. She again had a moment of fear despite the enjoyment she had felt from having the huge throbbing cock deep up inside her belly. She withdrew from his rod, dropped to her knees again and began kissing his wet shaft, moist from her own cum. She was surprised that it did not nauseate her or taste bad. She rather enjoyed it, as she teased his cock with her mouth and lips. It remained as hard and erect as before. Mrs. Scott's potion had seen to that.
"That's fine," Gunnar grunted again as he watched the proud little bitch suck at his cock. He enjoyed seeing women humiliate themselves. "That's good, doll. You're okay. I think I'll place you in one of my houses. You're almost as good as a professional."
Aghast, Wendy ran into the bathroom and locked the door. She tried to scrub herself and her thoughts clean but it was no use. She had been used and debased beyond endurance, and now he was trying to humiliate her still further. She couldn't stand it, She just couldn't.
Gunnar paid no attention to her. He dressed and went downstairs. He poured himself another large drink and went over to Maryanne.
"Get that guy over here," he ordered her.
"What guy?"
"Hef husband - the District Attorney."
"What for, whatever for?"
"I wanna see his face while he watches his wife get it every way there is."
Maryanne hesitated. She had an uneasy feeling that she was losing control of the whole situation. She liked to be the one to give the orders.
"But, Gunnar - " she started to protest.
"I said - 'get him'!"
"I - I don't know where he is. Wendy said he went out."
"Then ask her."
"All right, all right, Gunnar, take it easy." She went upstairs to the bathroom where Wendy had locked herself in. She knocked softly on the bathroom door.
"Wendy? Wendy, unlock the door and come out." She waited a moment and listened at the door. All she could hear was low sobs and moans.
"If you don't I promise you that my video tapes of you and Robert will be shown in every theater in the country. Not only that - I have some lovely stills of you and Gunnar, and Robert and me. We have nothing to lose by publishing them. I know of at least five underground magazines that will pay handsomely for them. Now, unlock the door and come out!"
There was another long pause, then the key turned and the door opened. Wendy stood framed in the doorway, completely naked, her head bowed, a thoroughly defeated and humiliated young woman.
"Where's Robert?" Maryanne asked.
"At his club."
"Which club?"
Wendy gave her the name, her head still bowed. She didn't dare look up, she was so humiliated. "Phone number?"
"Thank you," Maryanne smiled with mock politeness when she got it. She left the room, went to the phone in the hall and put in a call to Robert. It took a moment to get liim away from his backgammon game. When he finally answered, Maryanne's voice was cold as steel, hard and firm. "Bud, this is Mrs. Scott. I'd advise you to get over here right away unless you want a full - fledged scandal in the papers tomorrow morning."
"Why?" he asked. "What's going on?"
"You'll see when you get here. And make it fast!" She hung up abruptly.
Upstairs, Wendy still stood in the doorway between the bathroom and the bedroom. She couldn't stay and take any more humiliation. At the same time, she couldn't leave, because of the threat of exposure by Mrs. Scott. She was truly on the horns of a dilemma. Downstairs, the doorbell chimed. Mrs. Higgins answered it to find a hatless, coatless District Attorney Pearson wide - eyed and frantic.
What's going on here? Where's Wendy? Where's my wife?"
"She's being well taken care of, Mr. Pearson." Mrs. Higgins spoke softly. "Follow me!" With that she led Robert up the stairs and into the bedroom of mirrors.
When Robert entered, Wendy was in the throes of another orgasm. Gunnar was in his glory. "Kiss it, baby. Suck it!" Gunnar leered at Robert, who merely stood, stunned and shocked at what was being done to his wife. "My God! Wendy!" he finally managed to blurt out and ran towards the bed. Gunnar stopped him.
"Easy, old buddy. I just want you should watch. But don't get no wild ideas, or we'll have to tie you up to watch. There ain't a thing you can do about it."
Robert stood back and miserably watched his wife being humiliated and used like the commonest of whores. Most whores wouldn't even have stood for it, but she was helpless. Tied to the bed, and spreadeagled, completely beaten mentally, she just lay there and let Gunnar do to her what he would. He worked himself up into a frenzy and managed to cum, spraying his hot burning semen deep up into her helpless pussy. Robert turned away and buried his face in his hands.
"Okay, shit - face, get out!" Gunnar ordered him. Robert was only too glad to leave the room. He ran, tripped and fell down the stairway. Maryanne was waiting at the bottom. "Just forget it, Bud," she said. "It won't seem so bad tomorrow."
Robert fled from the vile house and drove around aimlessly until dawn. He went to his office, made some coffee, shaved, and tried to assume a proper appearance for his appointments.
Gunnar finally had his fill of Wendy and in the wee hours of the morning finally left her spread obscenely out on the bed, her naked body splattered with the lewd dregs of his slippery cum.
Mrs. Higgins had every lewd vile act recorded on Video tape. Even she had become excited by what she had just witnessed. She shut off the tape recorders and fell into bed, exhausted by her long night of watching and recording. Before Gunnar left, he stopped to give Maryanne some instructions.
"Send her to the Olympia Hotel when she wakes up, and we'll make a little money outta that tight little pussy."
"Gunnar! You can't do that!" Maryanne protested.
"Don't tell me what I can, or can't do! I do anything I damned well please in this town. And don't give me no lip if you want to stay healthy."
With that he too, left, leaving Maryanne with her thoughts.
Chapter Nine
Robert did his best to concentrate on his work. He kept his appointments, met with committees and went through the motions of being Mr. District Attorney.
At one o'clock, his secretary delivered a note, heavily sealed with scotch tape. It was addressed to him and he recognized Wendy's handwriting.
It said; "Dear Robert, I'm sorry for everything. I can't stand this any longer. Please forgive me, and don't try to find me. It will only result in more trouble for you, and humiliation for me. I love you. Always remember that." It was signed; "Wendy."
Pearson immediately rose from his desk. His immediate impulse was to search the entire town, the whole world if necessary, and bring her back. In spite of what he had witnessed, he still loved Wendy and wanted her back, safe, and at home with him.
Just as he went to the door to inform his secretary that he was leaving, the girl herself entered.
"There's a gentlemen who insists on seeing you at once, sir," she said. "He said that it was very important, very urgent, and that it concerns your wife."
Robert went back to his desk, tried to assume a normal attitude, and straightened his tie. "Show him in."
The girl stepped back and admitted a tall, extremely handsome Latin looking man. He might have been in his forties, or his fifties. It was difficult to tell.
"How do you do, Mr. District Attorney," He spoke with a charming Italian accent. "My name is Ramon DeFlores.
"Yes, Mr. DeFlores, what can I do for you?"
"Nothing, sir. Nothing. I have come to do something for you."
"Oh? You - you said it had something to do with Wendy - with my wife?"
"So, it does. Where is she?"
"I don't know." Robert had great difficulty maintaining control. He was about to break into tears. He picked up Wendy's note and handed it to DeFlores. The man read it quickly, smiled and nodded.
"Don't worry, Mr. Pearson. I will put a stop to all of this, and see to it that your wife is returned to you safely. "But - how?"
"You must leave that to me. I am afraid I can give you no real answers, or anything definite. But, rest assured, your wife will come back to you, and all will be well."
"My God, if you can do that, I'll pay you anything - anything I can manage to raise. I'm not a rich man, but..."
"Money is not involved here." DeFlores interrupted. "There is something much more important to be done. And now, if you will excuse me..."
Ramon DeFlores left the office, but not without a final admonition. "You are to do nothing - absolutely nothing. Go home, have a drink and try to relax. I will attend to all details."
Robert sat at his desk for a long moment. Who in hell was Ramon DeFlores? Could he trust him? Was he part of this whole diabolic mess that he and Wendy had gotten themselves into?
He finally decided to take the man's advice and go home. He was useless here, anyway, he couldn't concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing. He was worn out, physically and mentally. He got into his car, drove home, took a drink and stretched out fully clothed on his bed, intending to merely rest for a few moments. Before he knew it, he had fallen into an exhausted sleep.
He might not have slept so peacefully had he known what further tortures and humiliations Wendy was undergoing. After her ordeal, Maryanne made her bathe, dress, and then had her driven to the Olympia Hotel, as Gunnar had instructed.
The Olympia Hotel, for all its fancy name, was a flea bag in the worst part of town, one of Gunnar's whore houses. Gunnar had already informed his madam to expect a new tenant, and to spread the word that some special, young cunt was now available.
Almost as soon as Wendy arrived and was shown the small room she was to occupy, she had her first visitor, a rather timid man who didn't quite know how to take such a lovely young woman, although he had paid fifty dollars for the privilege. It was Wendy, tired and weary as she was, who had to tease him into a hard on and finally, after sucking him, excited him into an orgasm. If she was going to be a whore, she might as well be a good one. Anything to save Robert. She only hoped she would prove to be good enough that Gunnar and
Mrs. Scott wouldn't be angry with her, and make trouble for her husband.
While Wendy was 'entertaining' her first client, Ramon DeFlores had gone to Mrs. Scott's house. The moment Mrs. Higgins opened the door and looked deep into his eyes, she knew that her prayers had been answered. Here was another "True Believer" of the highest order; neither she nor Mrs. Scott would be a match for this man. He was one of the "Master's" right hands. Mrs. Higgins could hardly wait to welcome him into the house and call Mrs. Scott. As soon as she had performed her duties she went to the Chapel, knelt before the portrait of the Aga Shah, and offered up her thanks to her Master.
Mrs. Scott, blanched a sickly white when she saw Ramon DeFlores. One "Believer" can always tell another, always recognizes the odor of evil.
"To - to what am I indebted for the honor of this visit?" she began, hesitantly.
"You have displeased our Master in many ways, and too many times." Ramon told her. "We have our rules."
"I know. But I thought.. !"
"First of all," Ramon interrupted," You should have prepared Mrs. Higgins for her promotion several years ago."
"I meant to, but..."
"You were jealous of her, and enjoyed your feelings of power." Ramon told her.
"Secondly," Ramon continued. "Our Master feels that you have gone too far with District Attorney Pearson and his wife. You will turn the entire community against our Movement, and our Master's pursuit of new souls will be made that much more difficult. A scandal such as you propose would merely turn people back to Orthodox Religions. You should know by now that this kind of thing always results in a set - back to the Movement. You have to be much more subtle than you have been. We cannot have the bulldozer tactics you have employed. The Movement has to come before your petty feeling of power and need for revenge. We absolutely cannot have the kind of thing you have been doing. Accordingly, you will be punished."
Maryanne's body grew cold with fear, and hot with burning humiliation at the same time. She thought she had been invincible, now she knew she was vulnerable.
"What are you going to do to me?"
"The punishment is prescribed." Ramon took out a small, gold - bound book and carefully studied the pages. "For insubordination and failure to conduct yourself as properly befits a 'True Believer' Our Master had decreed that you be allowed to revert to your true self. You will forfeit all your potions and incantations. You will in future act as housekeeper to Mrs. Higgins, with all subservience. You will become pregnant, and bring up your son to be a True Believer to serve our Master."
"Then - then, He is not totally finished with me?"
"As a 'True Believer', yes. As a tool to achieve his ends, no. You will now retire to the Chapel, remove your clothes, and humble yourself before the Master."
Ramon DeFlores rose, buttoned his coat, and without another word, left the house.
Maryanne blanched, with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and started dispiritedly toward the Chapel. She dared not even call Mrs. Higgins for help. The old woman had been eavesdropping on the entire proceedings, and smiled grimly to herself. "At last." she muttered. "At last."
Maryanne entered the Chapel, stripped off her clothing, placed both palms together and knelt in front of the portrait of her Master. She wept, and begged and pleaded, but received no message. Finally, in a burst of weeping, she stretched out on the floor, and gave herself up completely to her humiliation. She seemed to go into a trance. She seemed to be floating in limitless space, a never - never land with nothing but limitless space. It was cold - colder than any place she could ever imagine. There was a feeling of great emptiness ... eternal emptiness ... eternal nothingness ..., and cold, so cold!
She seemed to linger there for an eternity. There seemed to be no such thing as time... only emptiness ... nothingness ... and cold. It was the most frightening thing she had ever experienced. Eternal nothingness ... eternal emptiness ... Eternity ... nothingness ... cold ... cold ... cold ... nothingness ...
She screamed in agony. The coldness seemed to enter her very body. To enter her bones, her blood, her womb! Her womb! Suddenly she knew! She had been impregnated with the Master's own brew of sperm. She would soon give birth to another Believer a son - devil who would carry on the work of debasing mankind, and enrolling souls into the Master's army.
When she finally found the power to move she returned to her bedroom. She wanted to take a shower and wash the filth from her body. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. She looked old and haggard. There were lines on her face, her breasts seemed to sag. Her skin looked like a suit that was several sizes too large for her, it hung in folds above her hips, around her jaw, under her eyes.
"Oh, God!" she thought, and then laughed sardonically. It was no good appealing to God. She had turned her back on him for too many years. Her Master had willed it that way, and that was the way it had to be.
In the upstairs servants quarters, the exact opposite effect was beginning to take place. Mrs. Higgins looked as if she had regained a bloom of comparative youth. Her face became firm, and she started to regain some of her former beauty. She experimented with jars of make - up and potions she had removed from Maryanne's room. She was surprised at the changes that were taking place. She was looking almost beautiful. She was becoming young and attractive again. Her wishes, her prayers, and her years of dedication were finally being rewarded.
Within the hour, the two women had changed places. Mrs. Scott looked like an old hag, Mrs. Higgins looked like a younger and more vital woman. Mrs. Higgins descended the stairs, wearing a beautiful robe that had once been the star of Mrs. Scott's wardrobe.
"You may lay out my clothes now, Mrs. Scott." she ordered, enjoying the act. "I will be leaving town tonight. Pack everything that I will need and put the rest in storage. You know what to do. You have been given your instructions."
Mrs. Scott merely nodded, and whispered, "Yes, Ma'am."
At his home Robert woke from his exhausted sleep, and tried to settle himself to merely waiting. He dared not leave the house and could not settle to anything. Restlessly, he prowled, around and around, up and down, trying to pass time until he heard from Mr. DeFlores. He couldn't relax, he couldn't eat, he couldn't even sit. So he prowled, paced and prowled, for hours on end. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the call came.
"Mr. District Attorney?" the soft voice began.
"Yes! Yes, sir." Pearson answered eagerly.
"You will find your wife in room 303 of the Olympia Hotel. I suggest that you take a contingent of your Vice Squad and go there immediately.
"But Mrs. Scott - Gynnar Wyberg?"
"Mrs. Scott has, been taken care of. You will find Mr. Wyberg in room 510. Evidence to convict him on narcotics, prostitution and gambling activities will be found in a locked drawer in his desk."
"How can I ever thank you?"
"Oh, there will come a day." Ramon replied with a smile. "You'll hear from me."
The connection was broken. District Attorney Pearson wasted no time in carrying out his instructions. He and the Vice Squad arrived at the Olympia Hotel within minutes. When he identified himself and demanded admittance to Rooms 303, and 510, the clerk panicked and tried to run out a back door. Some of the police officers stopped him.
Robert slammed into room 303 while the rest of his men broke their way into 510. Wendy screamed when she saw him. Robert went to the bed, took Wendy in his arms and embraced her tenderly.
"Darling, darling, shhh! Hush!" He rocked her back and forth and cradled her close. "I'm so sorry."
Wendy couldn't hold back her tears. They were partly hysterical, but mostly they were tears of joy.
"Hush, it's all right now. Sshh! Wendy. It's all right," Robert soothed her. "Get dressed darling. We're going home."
True to Ramon DeFlores' words, all the evidence needed to put Gunnar Wyberg and his boys out of business, and away for a good long sentence were found in his locked desk drawer in Room 510.
Unfortunately, when the District Attorney and his squad raided Mrs. Scott's house the following morning, they found nothing. All the mirrors had been stripped off the walls, the video tape equipment had been removed. The house looked empty and deserted. It was hard to believe that so short a time ago this drab house had been the scene of so many of Mrs. Scott's fabulous parties. What happened to Mrs. Scott and Mrs. Higgins? Well, they're operating in another city now. Their names are changed, but their methods remain virtually the same.
Robert and Wendy didn't really care what happened to them, as long as they were gone from their lives forever. And in a way - in spite of the horrors and humiliations they had been exposed to, they had to be grateful, in a strange way. They had at last come to know and love each other - in every way possible! And... they knew, too, that they both were going to need some extra fucking on the side to keep them happy after all the other cocks and cunts they'd tried ...
Chapter Ten
It was two weeks later, and Bud's younger seventeen - year - old brother Rick had come to visit with them a few days. By three o'clock on that hazy languorous afternoon Wendy had finished the housework and was ready for adventure. As she strolled across the living room toward the bedroom, she was very much aware that her newly acquired poise and self - confidence were attracting envious attention, to say the very least. Every time she walked down the street now all the men looked at her as though they wanted to fuck her on the spot. The time she had spent as Mrs. Scott's "house guest" had certainly done wonders for her, she mused whimsically and oddly felt her cunt twitch and flood up between her thighs at the thought of all the beautiful pussy - splitting fucks she had had there.
It was then she became aware of a faint drumming sound upstairs, and suddenly a muffled baritone burst into joyful song. It must be Bud's brother, Wendy realized, singing in the shower. She remembered what her husband had said about Rick having a secret boyish crush on her and a little smile curved her full, pouting lips. Perhaps she could get him to fuck her. Why not? she asked herself. There was certainly no harm in trying. She walked back to the front door and let herself fall to the floor with a loud thump.
"Heelllppp!" she cried in a shrill piercing voice. The singing upstairs stopped immediately, and the house was silent. "Help," she cried again in a feebler voice.
Still dripping wet from his shower, the handsome youngster came leaping down the stairs with just a towel tied around his middle "Wendy!" he exclaimed, "what happened!"
"I... I don't know," the voluptuous young woman faltered pathetically. "I must have fainted ... I blacked out."
"Here, let me help you. Come in the living room," Rick said. He lifted her to her feet and led her toward the couch. He was much more muscular than Bud and a lot handsomer, Wendy realized. Formerly, with her mixed - up values, she had thought her husband was the most distinguished, elegant - looking man in the world and had written off his young brother as being too much of the jock - type to have any real brains. She knew he had a reputation around the campus where he went to college as being quite a ladies' man.
"Too bad Bud isn't here," Rick said when he had installed her on the couch. "Excuse me; I'll go put some clothes on."
"Could you give me a drink first, Rick?" Wendy asked quickly, wondering just how brazen she dared be with him. "I feel a little shaky."
"Scotch?" Rick asked.
"On the rocks," she nodded.
At this he raised his eyebrows slightly and looked down at her with a little smile. Then he went to the kitchen and soon returned with two drinks.
"Sit down here beside me, Rick," Wendy' said, patting a place near her on the couch. "I had a little spat with Bud this morning and he left kind of mad. Maybe the drink will help me get over it."
"He mentioned something about a little quarrel," Rick admitted vaguely as he handed her the drink and sat down beside her. "I'm afraid you got your dress dirty when you fell."
Wendy took a sip of her drink and decided not to beat around the bush any longer. She looked her young brother - in - law straight in the eye and said, "I could take it off."
"I suppose you could," Rick said with a little smirk. "And if my brother just happened to walk in, it would serve him right. Is that the idea?"
"Yes," Wendy replied. She reached up under his towel and quickly caught the shaft of his hardening cock in her hand. Hefting what she felt she found it to her liking. It couldn't match Gunnar's but it was young and lusty and a lot bigger than Bud's long thick cock which once she had found so enormous. Eagerly, she yanked away the towel and let her eyes feast on the sight of the twitching swelling rod of flesh rising up from his hairy crotch before lowering her head to take it in her mouth.
"Jesus Christ!" the youth groaned as he watched her ovaled lips slide over the bulging head of his penis and halfway down its throbbing length. "Bud said you wouldn't suck cock!"
Wendy raised her head with a strong suction of her mouth so that his now rock - hard member popped from her mouth with a loud lewd slurp. "He didn't know how to make me," she answered with a wicked smile. Her tongue flicked out to daintily scoot up the tiny droplet of cum gleaming in the tip of the blood - gorged head, then she lowered her mouth to take the whole wildly pulsating shaft deep into her throat. Up and down she went on his convulsively jerking cock, taunting it with the tip of her tongue until he groaned.
"Come on, Wendy, let's fuck. Get that dress off!"
She leaped up and with flying fingers unbuttoned her shirt - dress while Rick painfully squeezed the head of his cock in his hand to keep from shooting his load right then and there. When she stood naked in front of him in all her bronze glory, he grabbed her to him and began nipping the soft flesh of her belly, her flanks her tits, all over, like a wild animal. Unable to hold back any longer, he twisted her under him on the couch and slid between her openly splayed legs. Instantly, her slender fingers closed over his frantically jabbing rod and guided it between the moist, sparsely haired lips of her pussy - juice flooding cunt.
"Mmmmmmmmmm," she murmured deliciously, closing her eyes and beginning a gentle undulation of her hips as his hard solid cock began to piston slowly at first, then more rapidly, in and out of her snugly clasping vagina. Soon his balls were smacking into the wide - split crevice between her asscheeks, teasing her tiny puckered asshole with every stroke, and in her sensual abandon, she had completely forgotten the motive behind her actions when a nasal voice twanged nastily right above her.
"Is this little performance all for my benefit? Really, Wendy, I'd never have believe you could be such a bitch! And, really, Rick, I'd never had believe you could be such an ass! Don't you see she's just using you to get even with me for the fight we had this morning?"
Wendy opened her eyes without ceasing the rotary motion of her hips and looked dreamily up at the face glaring down at her. "Go away, Bud, you silly old poop," she said
"Silly poop!" the tall gaunt District Attorney exploded. "I'll silly poop you, you cunt! Get off her, Rick."
"Don't get your balls in an uproar," his brother growled. "This is some hot pussy, and there's plenty of it for both of us. I knew what she was doing, and I thought we'd give her a little lesson she won't forget right away. Take off your clothes, brother. We'll sandwich - fuck the little bitch!"
"What! What on earth are you talking about?" Bud snapped waspishly.
"You fuck her up the ass while I fuck her cunt, for Chrissakes," Rick grunted. "Or the other way around if you'd rather."
"Is that possible," the astonished lawman asked incredulously. Then his features twisted with sadistic pleasure as he answered his own question, "I suppose it is," he mused out loud. "How would you like that, Wendy, dear? How would you like my nice hard cock up your ass? After all, you wouldn't let me put it in your cunt before I left for the office this morning. I believe it would be poetic justice. Put her on the floor, Rick," he ordered with sudden enthusiasm, beginning to hastily throw off his clothes.
"Ohhh, nooooo! You'll kill me!" Wendy wailed with feigned terror as Rick slid his cock out of her and lifted her off the couch onto the floor. If only they knew ... she thought to herself, remembering how Mrs. Scott's friends had initiated her into this particular variation of sex on one long blissful afternoon in the mansion. God! she thought wistfully. She'd really been spoiled. She looked up at the two erect cocks now jutting from the naked loins of the men standing above her. Rick's was of a fair size, and Bud's was long and thick just like the rest of him. Oh well, she consoled herself as the two men lay down on the floor, one fucking in front and the other behind, at least that would be exciting.
She reached down and steered Rick's slippery cock back into her expectantly quivering cunt while Bud fumbled feverishly with her nakedly raised asscheeks. At last, she felt the hard rubbery cone of his long thick cock pressing against the tiny puckered ring of her asshole and braced herself for the short - lived flash of pain which always accompanied a cock fucking up into her bowels. It was better this way, she thought. It was less bitchy. Bud would be proud of himself, thinking that he had really punished her, and he and his brother would remain good friends.
"Uuuuuuunnnnggghhh!" she groaned, half in pain, half in pleasure as her husband lunged against her buttocks and his long thick cock fucked deep up into the depths of her asshole. Long live the senses of the flesh! she groaned to herself, as the two men established an alternate fucking rhythm up into her wide split cunt and asshole and began to batter her back and forth between them. God, this is beautiful, she crooned softly to herself, I hope wherever Mrs. Scott is, she's passing on her beautiful training to some other poor young housewife like me. I'll never be able to get enough cock again as long as I live ... and I owe it all to her!!!
"Aaiiieee!" she chanted wildly.
Bud and Rick responded heartily to her wild moans. Like well greased pistons, their thick cocks fucked and bored up into the deepest recess of her hotly spasming pussy and tightly clasping anus, their heavy cum - filled balls smacking wetly against the wide - stretched spheres of her ass - cheeks and the soft, hair - furred lips of her juice - gushing cunt. Her entire body seemed filled to overflowing and it seemed to go on forever.
Buffeted between her husband and his eighteen year old brother, Wendy felt the tornado forming, whirling, building its terrible energy deep up inside her insidiously grinding loins. For an instant she almost lost her breath and then regaining it, screamed out, "I'm cummingggg! Now! Ooooohhhhhh! All together ... all cum together!"
Wildly she fucked her cock - stuffed cunt and asshole up and down, as both cocks slammed into her and her own passionate fluids gushed from her wildly - flooding pussy mouth to soak both Bud's and Rick's loins as they fucked into her. And at the same time she felt their cocks, buried deep inside her quaking body, begin to jerk and spill out hot - white streams of their cum into her cunt and asshole. She felt the viscous fluid filling both her pussy and bowels to the brim, ricocheting back out from her until her thighs and wide - stretched ass - cheeks were deliciously coated with it.
Wendy heard the two men crying out their completion in unison, and she was lewdly excited to realize that she had been punishing her but they had amply rewarded her. Oh, how they had! Not just in a physical, sexual sense, but by finally knowing that Mrs. Scott's instructions had freed her from her own bonds, making her see herself for what she really was and accept herself eagerly.
They had been so good together, Wendy thought as they all finally collapsed in a lewd, cum - drained tangle of nakedly entwined bodies. Yes, she mused, this had been too good to be a one - time thing. Now would be a good time to establish some kind of a permanent relationship.
When the panting had subsided, and the room was still rich with the aroma of their wanton orgasms, they untangled. Wendy carefully formulated just how she would manage a permanent houseguest while she went into the kitchen to mix drinks. After giving them to the two spent men sprawled on the floor of the living room, she too settled down between them on the floor.
"This started out to be a hell of a day and its turned into the most wonderful experience I've ever had," she said. "You, Bud, started out to punish me, and I guess I deserved it. Rick, you were just doing what I wanted you to do to get back at Bud and when you were caught at it, decided to talk him into doing it with you. I must admit," she lied, "that at first I was horrified about being fucked like that, but then I realized that I wanted every beautiful moment of it, and hadn't realized it."
"You mean you want to get fucked by us again, Wendy?" Bud said with a lewd grin, peeling the fleshy foreskin of his cock back, exposing the renewed hardening of his cock to her eyes.
"Oh, yes I do, but can you... so soon, I mean?" she whispered huskily.
"I'll prove it to you right now!" he said as he pulled her down on the floor and spread her legs and fucked the massive and throbbing rod of male flesh hard up into her cunt.
"Ooooohhhhh!" she cried out as her legs flailed wildly and then clamped tightly around his back. She humped furiously to meet every driving stroke and cried out in pleasure as he drove into her.
Next to them on the floor, Rick stared entranced by the sudden violent fucking. The young brother - in - law muttered, "Can I get in on this now too?"
"That was the idea," Wendy whispered, and her hand went to his loins to caress his again hardening young cock. Then she bent over him and her hair spread over his thighs as she took his cock into her mouth and began to suck it hungrily.
Yes, this was the way to live! she mused to herself, and with these two beautiful cocks in me, I will live forever!
