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Corruption ....(94k)    by Jack R. Kenney

Chapter ONE

I shuffled the fourteen pages of typescript together, stapled them and slid them into a foolscap manila envelope. The four interesting flash photos joined them. They were crude and blurred, but you could make out the faces clearly and - more important - see exactly what the couple were doing to each other.

I'd never been much of a photographer and it was a miracle that so many of my hastily-taken night shots came out as well as they did. The eye witness evidence was more important, though. The pictures merely served to clinch the case.

I licked the gummed flap until my tongue got dry and nauseous. Then I tossed the envelope to one side of my desk. Like all the others, it would have to be delivered personally. Material as valuable as that couldn't be allowed to run the risk of loss in the mails.

But first I wanted the drink I'd promised myself. I reached into the bottom drawer of my desk and pulled out the half-empty bottle of Johnnie Walker. I poured a generous shot into a tooth glass and tilted. It helped - but not all that much. Prentice, this is a lousy way to earn a living, I told himself. I stared for a moment into the bottom of the glass. Then I refilled it.

Divorce cases are my bread and butter. Cake too, since it's very seldom that anything more interesting turns up. Private investigators, in England at any rate, are employed almost solely to ferret out evidence of infidelity in hotel rooms and country cottages. After a while, the job gets you down. At first there's a novelty in tracking down adulterous couples. It soon wears off and you're left with a feline that's rather like watching life through a thick plate glass window. It doesn't touch you. You're voyeur only and you tend to forget what it was like to participate.

Or maybe, I reminded myself. Maybe this is only applicable to you, Prentice. Maybe the adultery cases all wind up in your office because no one else wants them.

I drank again. To hell with philosophizing, I thought. If I didn't take the spy and pry cases I'd starve. As it was, my bank balance wasn't so healthy. I looked around the small, barely furnished room. It contained a filing cabinet, a small safe, my desk and two upright chairs - one for the occasional client who actually came to the office. Most of them preferred to have me call on them.

Still, the address was good. Wardour Street, London, West One. Norman Prentice, Private Investigator. I lit a tipped cigarette and put my feet up on the desk. This was probably the worst part of the whole job. Waiting around for the next phone call or letter requesting my services. Often, there'd been a wait of a month or more.

It was late in the morning. Up on the fourth floor the faint sounds of traffic and voices filtered through the open window. I debated whether or not to take my report and the photos to the client now. I reached out for the envelope again. The phone rang before my fingers touched it.

"Prentice. Can I help you?"

There was silence at the other end of the line apart from a slight rustling. Then a woman's voice said: "You're an investigator, Mr. Prentice?"

"That's right."

"I'd like to employ you. When are you available?" I felt my eyebrows lift. This was the first time for a long, long while that I'd had the offer of another job before my present one was completely finished.

"I can be available pretty soon. How quickly do you want me?"

"It's very urgent, Mr. Prentice. There's no time to lose. Look - can you come round this afternoon, do you think? It's not a matter I care to discuss on the telephone."

"All right." I didn't want to appear too eager for work. Still, I also didn't want to miss an opportunity to put some continuity in my career. "Give me the address and I'll try to make it."

She told me where to go. Her voice was slow and precise as she repeated the Mayfair address. I jotted it down on my desk blotter. "And the name?"

"Parkington. Miss Parkington."

"O.K. I'll be there. Four o'clock all right?"

"Yes, that'll be fine." There was a slight pause and I was preparing to hang up when she added: "Mr. Prentice. Forgive me, I have to be sure. You are discreet - I mean, I've never hired a private detective before. You're like doctors or priests, aren't you? Whatever you're told - whatever you do - it's in the strictest confidence, isn't it?"

"Oh yes," I told her. "Absolutely. Just like a priest."

She sounded relieved. "Good. Four o'clock, then?" I said yes again and waited for her to hang up. She seemed to be searching for something else to say. "Just one more thing, Mr. Prentice ... "

"Yes?"

"How much do you charge for your services?" Maybe it was the whisky or my mood of momentary self-loathing, but I was getting faintly irritated by her. "Miss Parkington, these are things we can discuss this afternoon when we meet. It depends on what the job is, how long it takes, what my expenses come to ... When you've given me some idea of what it is you want me to do, I'll give you an estimate. Then we can decide if we want to go further. O.K.?"

Her well-modulated Mayfair accent seemed to resent my tone of voice. "That's perfectly clear, Mr. Prentice," she said. "I shall expect you at four." And she put the phone down hard. It made a loud clang in my ear.

I decided to deliver the package of photos and report and then eat before visiting Miss Parkington. My client lived in Kensington and it wasn't worth taking the car through the London traffic jams. I put the envelope in my best briefcase and walked to the tube station.

Two changes of train and a lengthy walk clown Kensington High Street brought me to the cul-de-sac where Mrs. Phillipa Richmond lived. I pressed the bell. Her maid, a Scandinavian girl I'd met before when I first visited the client, opened the door.

"Ah, Madame is expecting you!" she smiled at me. "Please - come in!" I walked past her into the hallway. I rarely knew the background stories of my clients, and Mrs. Richmond was as much a mystery to me as any of the others. I was told, to follow a certain man or woman, catch them in a compromising situation and deliver the evidence - with photos if possible.

Sometimes it was obvious that a set-up had been arranged. The man would pay a girl to sleep with him for the night and be photographed in the act. One character had even asked me for a set of prints afterwards. But it was safer if I officially "didn't know" about these ruses.

The girl looked at the bulky envelope under my arm. She nodded knowingly. "I'll tell Madame you're here. She'll be very pleased to see you, I'm sure!"

"Fine." I sat myself in an expensively uncomfortable Queen Anne chair and picked up a glossy magazine. A few moments later Phillipa Richmond appeared. She was a very attractive women in her late thirties. Cynicism and a perpetually amused crinkle at the corners of her mouth made her seem more sophisticated than she was. Two months of following her husband around town and checking on his every movement had shown me that he had probably married quite a way beneath himself and although Mrs. Richmond had hired me, I suspected that the whole thing had been discreetly arranged by the husband.

It looked as though he'd wanted a speedy divorce and had agreed to be the guilty party. However, I just hadn't bothered to look at it any closer than that. The fee I was getting was a fat one and with it went, by not-too-subtle implication, a rejoinder not to probe too deeply. Just deliver the pics and the report.

She was coming towards me with her hand outstretched in welcome. I got up and our fingers intertwined, hers pressing firmly into the back of mine.

"You're very punctual, Mr. Prentice," she told me. "And I see you have the - ah, the evidence." She reached out for it and I put the envelope into her hand. "No problems?" she asked, her long tapering finger slipping into the flap and tearing it open.

"No - everything went off very smoothly," I said. "Almost as if it had been rehearsed" she looked at me sharply. Then her mouth relaxed and she smiled. A knowing, warning smile.

"Now, now, Mr. Prentice," she reproved me. "We agreed that you wouldn't ask questions. Mmm, these are very interesting!" She had the photographs out and was studying them closely. "She's really quite a beautiful girl, isn't she?"

I stood there silently, watching her watching the pictures. When she'd finished with them she took out my report and flicked through it quickly. "Yes, this seems to be just what I wanted." She looked up over the sheaf of paper, her eyes suddenly staring into mine.

"You're a very competent man, Mr. Prentice," she said at last. "Thanks." She appraised me quite openly, running her eyes up and down me as if I was a bargain that she might want to buy. "Like a drink?"

I nodded. "Why not?" She moved her eyes away slowly, placed the results of my work on an occasional table and walked to the cocktail cabinet. "Let's see ... the last time you were here it was whisky, wasn't it?" I started to sit down again but she said: "Oh no - please! The settee's much more comfortable!"

I walked to the settee and let my body sink into the resilient cushions. In a moment she came over with two glasses. We clinked and swallowed. Her body warmth seemed to be reaching out across the small space between us. The sweetly exotic smell of her perfume was everywhere.

"You're a very quiet man, Mr. Prentice," she said finally. "You say very little and you're - how shall I put it? - rather unreachable, aren't you?"

I put my glass down on the table and leaned back into the embracing cushions again. "I'm not unreachable," I said. "If you don't believe me - reach!"

She smiled again. "Maybe I will." She put her glass next time to mine and let her hands creep up around the back of my neck. They interlocked there and drew me slowly forward until our lips were only a fraction of an inch apart.

"I'm a hungry woman, Mr. Prentice," she murmured. Her lips brushed mine as she spoke; a faint, tingling softness that crackled electrically against my mouth. "Jonathan's been away too long - and there's no one else. Yet!"

This had happened to me on a couple of occasions, but bonuses like this didn't occur every day of the week. I had several hours still before my next appointment. Mrs. Richmond was a dark, attractive woman and I couldn't think of a single reason not to enjoy her hospitality.

She half-closed her eyes and I bent my mouth down, crushing my lips against hers. She responded quickly, pushing her full, moist lips upwards, working them sweetly and insinuatingly into my mouth. Her long-nailed fingers began to play with the nape of my neck, tickling along that sensitive muscle until my prick started to stiffen.

I pulled her tightly against my body, molding her warm curves lovingly to me. We kissed for a long, long minute. Her breathing grew heavy, her breath escaping into my mouth through her parted lips. She started to rub herself against me like a sleek, well fed cat; pushing her hard mounded breasts firmly into my chest.

The tip of her wet, pink tongue slipped into me and nibbled like brushed velvet along the roof of my mouth. Then it found my own tongue and together we tasted the sweetness of intermingled saliva. She could feel my prick straining up into her and she moved slightly so that it bulged satisfyingly into her crotch.

My heart was beginning to pound. Mrs. Richmond was still toying with the short hairs at the back of my neck and her other hand was gradually moving down my chest. After what seemed like an eternity, her fingers closed over the pointed bulge of my cock and she started to stroke it through the trousers.

"Mmmmmm," she whispered into my mouth. "That feels good!" Busily, she unzipped my fly and dipped her hand under my pants. Her cool fingers roamed over my stomach, rubbing the flesh, seeking bare contact with my tool.

At least she allowed herself to find it. Her sensitive fingers gripped tightly around the straining muscle and she began that wonderful caress of stroking up and down the entire length of my pulsating prick. Her nails worried the drawn back foreskin, scratching delicately at the exposed softness of my crown.

We were still kissing, still tonguing each other. I let my right hand come around to cup her breast. It fitted snugly into my outstretched fingers, hard an firm. I tilted the flesh upwards a little. Beneath the dress she was naked - the breast I was holding jiggled freely as I slowly weighed it.

I played with the button, holding it between forefinger and thumb until it stiffened proudly and seemed to come to vibrant life. The dress was silky, and the feel of her wonderful nipple sprouting through the thin material made me hornier than ever.

My other hand fumbled at her back until it found the zip. I drew it down. The rasping sound it made as it was unzipped seemed to thrill her as much as it did me. And then my hand was touching the bare, smooth skin of her back, running freely all over the satin surface.

Her shoulders and the white, incredibly soft texture of her back felt glorious. I reveled in the sensuous sensation of rubbing my fingers all over her. Then I pulled the dress carefully off her shoulders. The material rustled and fell away from her in untidy folds, leaving her breasts jutting boldly upwards. They were magnificent specimens. I took my mouth away from Mrs. Richmond's and feasted my eyes on the curved, ample swells.

Both her nipples were now fiery red. The generous cherries stuck out from the center of each breast, quivering, slightly as her breath rose and fell. I licked my lips in anticipation. With a muffled cry, Mrs. Richmond pushed my head down into the tight cleavage.

My face was buried between the twin hemispheres. I reached up with both hands and en-compassed the hanging globes, squeezing them roughly. She was moaning now and rubbing my prick with quick, jerking movements of her fingers.

My fingers closed over both her nipples, tweaking them. Hot shivers of excitement were racing up and down my spine. I opened my mouth and allowed her supple flesh to flood between my lips. I gobbled as much of the succulent breast flesh as I could without suffocating myself.

But my tongue was hungry for the taste of her ample nipples and I quickly transferred my attention to those delectable rose buds. My teeth closed over one teat and I sucked it greedily into my mouth. She gasped in sweet pleasure as I bit down on her nipple, making my teeth sink regardless into the base of the roseate cherry.

I nibbled and chewed at the morsel, at the same time kneading and massaging her full white tits. Gradually, we fell back on the settee together, making her dress nothing more than an untidy fold of material which just barely cowered her loins.

Her thighs were parted and I reached down to touch the inside of her leg. The sweet softness of her thigh and the proximity of her inviting cunt were suddenly too much for me. I slid my hand up the inside of her leg until it closed over the damp mound of her slit.

Feverishly, I parted the long cunt-lips. My fingers found the red centre of her quim and I plunged two of them quickly into the heat of her. They dipped into the milky honeypot, savoring the feel of the wet inner flesh. Obediently, Mrs. Richmond splayed her thighs wide apart, giving me complete access to her hidden charms.

I searched all around inside her, tickling and teasing the melting, rubbery cunt. Her fingers were busy too - she was gripping my prick as if frightened that it would get away from her. She squeezed and squeezed the throbbing rod until I felt my spunk start to gather itself. With an effort I fought back the violent impulse to come all over her hand. But the way she insisted on playing with my ultra-sensitive tip, nabbing her forefinger lightly over and over the pointed head) made it difficult.

My thumb found the hard length of her distended clitoris. I fumbled at the flap, alternately pushing and prodding at the red angry flesh. She started to writhe under me, her buttocks contracting and her hips grinding as she tried to push my fingers even deeper into her cunt.

"Fuck me!" she gasped, her mouth open, her lips wet and trembling. "Oh, fuck me! I've got to have you!"

She pulled my cock towards that wide slitted hole between her legs. We embraced tightly, my hands still on her tits, as she rubbed my prick up and down the wet opening of her quim. I surged forward on top of her and felt it start to ease its horny, throbbing way in.

Mrs. Richmond's fingers cupped my balls, letting my cock slide to its full length into her cunt. I could feel the meaty flesh of her hole close tightly around my thick prick. Her legs came up and she crossed her ankles around the small of my back. Next moment I was jammed to the hilt inside her. I pulled back again - slowly.

Then forward, delving once more into that never-ending orifice. Slowly, we got Into the rhythm. Very, very deliberately I'd withdraw ... Pause ... And quickly fuck my prick hard as far as it would go into the waiting, oozing crevice.

Mrs. Richmond started to ease her hips from side to side. Then she wiggled her buttocks in a small semi circle, so that the hard tightness of her cunt wrapped itself even more throbbingly around my cock. Her nails started to rake my back. They scratched lightly from the backs of my shoulders down to my spine and up again, growing firmer with each caress until eventually she was almost splitting the skin.

She looked down at herself - at her tits, watching me roll them together and then splay them wide apart again. I sank my fingers into the warm, giving breasts, kneading them like dough.

"The nips!" she whispered hoarsely. "Pull my nips - hurt them! Tease them! Do anything you like with them Go on!" Her eyes stared challengingly into mine. Slowly, deliberately, provocatively, she said: "I dare you to! Make them bleed - I DARE YOU!!"

My prick was so itchy and tense that I feared I'd shoot my lot if I obeyed her. But the directness of her challenge was too much for my male ego. I let my fingers close around her pointed, thrusting nipples. I drew them up until her breast mounds quivered and shook.

Then I began to torment them as cruelly as I knew how. My thumbnails tore into the proud red cherries. I scratched into them until I saw the tears begin to start from her lovely blue eyes. "More!" she whispered. "Oh God! More!!"

I obeyed her. My nails raked at her sweetly beautiful nipples. My fingers tweaked them so hard that I thought they'd come off. Her own nails tore relentlessly into my back and she was thrusting her body up at me, forcing my prick in and out of her sopping wet cunt at a fantastic rate.

"Ahhh, I'm coming!" she cried suddenly. "Feel me? Feel me come!! Christ, I'm coming all over you ... !" And it was true! The liquid mucus spurted uncontrollably out of her cunt and I felt it flooding over my pubic hairs, making my prick a live, slippery snake that darted swiftly into the dark recesses of her body; hovered on the point of orgasm there, and withdrew.

She fastened her lips lasciviously on mine, biting me, forcing her tongue almost down my throat. I felt myself going ... Caught up in a whirlpool of agonized pleasure. "Yes, yes!" she panted into my open mouth as my cock gushed forth its abundance of locked-up spunk. My mind was split apart by the intensity of the climax. I rammed my prick into her, feeling the thick jets flooding remorselessly into her womb.

She held her hips up to receive the tribute, squeezing her cunt-lips as tightly together as she could. Our faces - locked together in a fiery kiss - and our bodies seemed to merge completely until I was no longer able to distinguish hers from mine. My hands were fastened greedily over her ripe tits, squeezing them so tightly that at one point I teetered on the brink of madness; thinking that her breasts were melting and running all down my fingers ...

At last it was done. The last drip of spunk had been ejaculated into her. We had reached and passed that frightened pinnacle of desire which makes control and sanity impossible. I slowly eased myself off her. We lay quietly together on the settee, arms wound around each other.

After a few minutes I raised myself on one elbow. I feasted my eyes on her lovely nakedness. She was a magnificent woman - ripe and mature and completely abandoned in her love-making. She opened her eyes slowly. They were soft and languorous.

"Lay still," she told me. "I want to do something to you." She wriggled down the settee until her face was in line with my now-sagging prick.

I watched her as she bent down. Her lips brushed the tip of my cock. It was wet and glistening with our intermingled spunk. She put out her tongue and gently, softly, licked at the crown. Her eyes came up and flickered quizzically over my face.

"It seems such a shame to let it all go to waste," she said. "Let me lick it all up! You don't mind, do you?"

I shook my head, feeling a terrible tickling sensation in my balls as she started to lick up and down the length of my prick. Mrs. Richmond was making it start to rise again to its full length, although my cock had not yet had time to sink down to a flaccid state. She was drawing the thick moisture off and gulping it down, at the same time kissing and petting my prick with her warm mouth.

She made soft little animal noises as her lips slowly drew the crowned point inside her mouth, working it up once more to its former glory. I felt it stiffening, the blood pouring through my shaft and making it hard and virile. Mrs. Richmond renewed her attentions on it, taking the arrow into her mouth and sucking lengthily.

Her hot moist mouth drew on my prick and I felt a sharp renewal of desire. Her long hair fell carelessly down, cascading in beautiful tresses over my balls and stomach. I reached down and stroked it, taking the opportunity to press her head more firmly down onto my cock.

The shaft disappeared between her red lips. She moved her face up and down on it, pursing her mouth so that it fitted tightly over my now-twitching cock. With slow, sure strokes the woman sucked me off, letting her teeth bite gently into the tender skin, working it up and down until my cock felt violent and eager once more.

She had lapped up all of our combined cream, licking with her fat pink little tongue like a sleek cat at a dish of milk. My hand reached around to touch the voluptuous curve of her buttocks. I stirred with intense sensual pleasure as my fingers roved over the hanging globes of sweet arse flesh. I put my hand underneath one adorable cheek and lifted it. The flesh lay like a satin pillow beneath my fingers. Her muscles were slack, allowing me to fondle and move the pliable mound in whichever position I desired.

My thumb and forefinger took a large piece of her white flesh and pinched. She writhed her hips slightly. I let my fingers stray to the well-defined crease and my thumb pressed against her back hole, my other digits remaining on the sleek curve of her bum-cheeks.

Slowly, gently, I eased my thumb into that hard brown little nutmeg of an arsehole. It pouted itself open, the orifice hot and moist with sweat and the trickle of come from her cunt - a few centimeters away. I pushed my way into the incredibly tight hole, finally jamming my thumb cruelly in until it had completely disappeared. Inside, it was all warmth and heat: a beautifully clinging heat and as I began to worm my thumb around and around inside her arse, Mrs. Richmond squirmed deliciously.

She lifted one knee and placed it on the other side of me. Now, her haunches were spread wide apart and I had a glorious view of her dripping, open cunt and her fleshy hanging buttocks - with my thumb stuck obscenely to its hilt in the middle of them.

Mrs. Richmond, not content with giving me a mere visual thrill, began to lower herself down onto my face. The aroma from her pungent cunt filled my nostrils. The blushing red lips dangled a fraction away from my mouth. I lifted my head slightly and my lips came into thrilling contact with the woman's offered orifice.

I kissed it, my mouth closing over her juicy lips and my teeth biting the parted slit together so that her cunt was modestly closed up. Never before had I seen so large a cunt! Her generous folds of hot cunt-lip were practically filling my mouth, and I chewed on them, sucking her clammed-up quim into my mouth and biting it like a mouthful of underdone steak.

She in turn bit down more savagely then ever on my imprisoned cock, letting her teeth rub up and down on my length in swift, excruciating bite-sucks.

Although Mrs. Richmond's cunt was closed, I could still taste the strong-smelling liquid of her spunk as it seeped through the pink gash in the middle of her long cunt-slit. I poked my tongue out and ran it tentatively up the red wound. I felt her stiffen in acute sexual tension as my tongue poked inside her and tasted the even more tender softness of her inner cunt.

I let it move deeper within her. I lapped and lapped, licking furiously, my teeth still clamping her wide pink quim-mouth firmly closed. And then I realized she was going to come again. The acrid warmth of her furnace-like cunt pulsed with a steady beat and she tensed herself, her bottom gluing itself around my imprisoned thumb.

Then it all gushed down from her. I released her cunt-lips, letting them open again, and received the full flood of her pent-up sex juices in my open mouth. She pumped her cunt and her arse up and down on my face like a demented demon. I began quickly to suck long and hard at her exposed red rawness. The creamy milk was pouring out of her now as if she hadn't come for a month.

I pushed my face as hard as I could into the displayed hole, feeling her yielding up her fat with an intensity I'd never met before.

And she was swearing and cursing in between feverish gobbles of my prick. "I love it! Love it - you cunt-sucking bastard! Oh, suck me! Suck me! Make it come all in your fucking mouth!! Kiss my cunt harder you son of a whore! Fuck me with your mouth! I'll bite your prick off if you don't!!"

And I began to fear that she would, so furiously was she teething it. Her fantastic passion quickly communicated itself to me and I in turn began to hump my cock and down, urging it into her only too willing mouth. Mrs. Richmond, having satisfied her own lust for the moment, vigorously turned her attention to the problem of getting me to spew my spunk into her mouth.

She wrapped her tongue firmly around the base of my prick and began licking there with a very determined, business-like motion. The whole length of my hard and thick cock was jammed into her mouth. She made it rub against the roof of her mouth, whilst her fingers strayed to my balls.

There, she began to tease and tickle, turning the hard nuts over in a dizzying, voluptuous caress. My own lips still in wet, frothy contact with her cunt, I began once more to climb that long, steep hill to the pinnacle of lust.

Guiding me, hastening my journey, Mrs. Richmond tightened her lips around my cock until it felt as securely held as if it had been wedged in her cunt. Her breasts dipped slightly to touch my stomach and I could feel her hard ripe nipples brushing tantalizingly across the sensitive skin of my navel area.

I caressed her wonderful arse cheeks. The glory of those twin mounds of flesh! My hands roamed all over them, shaping them as I wished. And then the erotic highlight as I felt Mrs. Richmond's mouth move down my shaft until her lips were nibbling softly at the very crown of my prick. She sucked at it in regular, even intakes -

And I was again plunged into that unbearably intense ecstasy of gathering, mustering my spunk and concentrating on shooting every last atom of it through the pinprick at the top of my cock.

Into her mouth! And more! And yet more! I could feel it all gushing foamily between her lips, filling her mouth, forcing its spunky way down her throat. She once more let me drive my prick all the way into her mouth as I throbbed out my second orgasm.

She carefully licked every last fatty morsel from her lips and gratefully swallowed it down. I let myself close my eyes and relax, knowing that she was savoring the wet-fruits of my manhood, gobbling the final flecks of male sperm from my spent cock. She was quite a woman, this Mrs. Richmond. I wondered briefly why her husband wanted to divorce such at passionate, beautiful female ...

And then I drifted off into a light sleep, dreamless and serene. When I awoke, perhaps fifteen minutes later, the settee was empty. I was alone. I pulled my trousers on and adjusted my shirt. No trace of Mrs. Richmond anywhere in the room ...

I didn't bother to call the maid. I let myself quietly out of the house. Presumably Mrs. Richmond had her own reasons for not saying goodbye. Anyway, I had her address and she knew my phone number. As I walked away down Kensington High Street I had a very strong hunch that it wouldn't be so very long before we met again.

Chapter TWO

Shepherds' Market, a once notorious backwater of London's plush Mayfair area, is now relatively respectable. At least, on the surface. If you search deeply enough, you'll find vice and corruption - as you will anywhere in the big capital cities of the world. High class whores used to be on every corner in this part of Mayfair. Few of them have moved, but today they're advertising their wares in shop window notice boards rather than by personal display.

Shepherd's Market is also one of the few places in London where you can see a first-class lesbian show - in private. They don't sell tickets for it at Keith Prowse, but a few discreet enquiries at the two public houses in the area will get you in. The girls are beautiful, young and very uninhibited. And they are only one of the many attractions for the monied tourist in swinging London.

Sometimes I think I should go into the tourist business and become a travel guide. There's a fortune to be made for someone, showing visitors the underground novelties which are more or less freely available in this dirty, grimy, corrupt and pulsing town.

Meanwhile, I'm too busy trying to scrape a sordid living together by acting as an underpaid voyeur for would-be divorcees. And habits, I find, are hard to break. Even habits that you know are degrading and unworthy of you.

I turned into a little mews off Curzon Street where my prospective new client, Miss Parkington, lived. The unexpected romp with Philippa Richmond had done little to shake me out of my customary cynicism. I could feel myself getting more and more irritable and tense at the prospect of coming face to face with that precious voice on the telephone.

I held myself in, warning myself that this was not the right frame of mind in which to impress a new client. The ornate door with its old-fashioned knocker irritated me even more and I swung it down viciously, hearing the sound echo down the hallway.

I waited a full three minutes before the door finally opened. Something in the woman's eyes warned me that the wait had been deliberately engineered. She was in her early thirties, a striking, haughty looking female. Her face was pretty in a hard, eyebrow-raised way and her well stacked figure was clad in tight-fitting hipster slacks and a white ruffle blouse. The slacks were either glued on or she'd had the material sprayed over her thighs, because they hugged her legs and stomach like a second skin.

The tits that pointed at me through the sheer material of the blouse were held in check by a brassiere which did nothing to conceal the sharp thrust of her tweaky nipples.

"Are you Mr. Prentice?" She broke into my appraisal of her figure with a "putting me in my place" tone of voice. I nodded. "Come in." She turned abruptly and led the way into the house. Inside, the furniture and decor was very chi-chi, very expensive. But my eyes were fastened on the light, loose swing of her buttocks under the pale blue slacks. The cheeks jutted out in twin orbs of excitingly round flesh and I noted approvingly that they were encased in the tiniest of bikini panties. You didn't have to be a detective to see that, by the way. The slacks were so tight that the faint ridge of her pants were clearly visible as they swathed the plump under swell of her bottom.

Miss Parkington sat down in an armchair and motioned me to sit opposite her. She crossed her legs demurely. When she spoke her voice was half-anxious, half-domineering.

"I went you to find someone for me, Mr. Prentice," she said. "It's my ward, Julie. She's been missing for nearly a week now and I'm getting very worried about her."

I nodded. "What about the police?"

Miss Parkington shook her head vigorously. "No, that's impossible." She leaned forward a little. "You see, Julie ... Julie is mentally disturbed. Oh, I don't mean she's really crazy or anything. But she lives in a dream world - a nightmare world, really. She has terrible fantasies ... I don't really want to go into them in detail but I can tell you that she's been under a psychiatrist for two years now. Delusions of persecution, imaginings. She's a very sick girl even though most of the time she behaves quite normally."

"I see. And you think the police would throw a scare into her. You'd rather have a friend (I emphasized the word meaningfully) find her?"

"Precisely. And there's also the fear of a scandal. The newspapers might get hold of the story if the police are looking for her. Actually, it's not so much a question of searching for her. I'm almost certain that I know exactly where she is."

I raised my eyebrows. "You do?" She nodded and her forehead creased in a worried frown.

"Yes - but the girl I believe she's staying with denies that she's there. I've been to see her twice and she's been most rude. Most rude ... "

Miss Parkington looked as if she was on the brink of tears. "But Julie's in that house - I know she is. And you've got to get her out and bring her back. God only knows what will happen to her if she's left to her own devices. She must have constant attention, constant supervision.

"You may have to use force to persuade her to leave with you. That's why I must be sure that everything you're told - everything you do - is in the strictest confidence."

I thought quickly. Something was a bit offkey about the story but I couldn't pinpoint it. Still, returning nutty girls to their guardians would make a change from the ceaseless prying cases I'd been working on. "What you're asking me to do, Miss Parkington, is bordering on the illegal. How old is the girl, any way?"

"She's nineteen. And it's certainly not illegal, Mr. Prentice. I'm her legal guardian until she reaches the age of 21."

"But you mentioned the use of force -"

"I said it might be necessary. You'll have to use your own discretion. Do you want to take the case or not?"

I thought for a few moments. "I'd want about �300 to bring her back," I said. She looked at me silently. Then: "All right. Providing she's here by the end of this week. Here - this is a recent photograph of her."

She opened the drawer of a bureau bookcase and extracted a postcard sized print. "Her name's Julie Marshall," she told me, passing the photo across. I looked at it. The girl was strikingly beautiful, a fair haired, slim and full-lipped creature who stared up into the camera with a look of disdainful disinterest.

"And this is the address where I'm sure you'll find her." Miss Parkington wrote an address down on the back of an envelope and handed it to me. I glanced at it. The street was in Hampstead, London's artist colony and second home for American emigrants.

"She's been mixed up with people like this before," Miss Parkington told me. Her voice seemed to be more relaxed now that we had reached agreement that I'd find the girl. "They're no good for her - a very bad influence. Please try to return her as quickly as possible, won't you? I shudder to think what company she's keeping."

I slipped the envelope and the photo into my wallet and pocketed it. "Don't worry," I told her. "I'll bring her back home." I started to get up but she put her hand to stay me.

"No - please. Wouldn't you like a drink?" She stood up and moved the few feet that had separated us. She stood over me and my eyes were riveted by the fantastically large bulge that swelled out from the crotch of her slacks. Slowly, reluctantly, I raised my eyes. Miss Parking-ton was looking down at me, her face suffused by a faint, rosy blush.

"I'm sorry I was so sharp with you, Mr. Prentice," she said softly. "I was tense and very anxious about Julie. You do understand, don't you?"

"Sure, I understand." I kept my eyes fastened on hers and gradually reached out, my hands until they rested on her thighs. I could feel the warmth of her flesh straining through the tightly stretched material. She didn't move; just parted her lips slightly and moistened them.

I began to move her legs a little, swaying them gently. I could feel her thighs tensing. The muscles grew taut and she tried to move away. I held her more tightly, making my fingers press firmly into the lovely fullness of her exciting thighs.

"No, don't ... Please, you mustn't!" She tried to squirm out of reach. Her hands came down and rested on my shoulders and she began to push at me. There was something tremendously erotic about the way she was struggling. The prominent bulge of her mons veneris stood out defiantly as she tried to move her legs away from me.

I didn't know quite what was making me do this to her. I felt, even more than a sudden, violent, sexual urge for her, a desire to bring her down. To seize and manipulate those jutting arse cheeks. Hurt them. Squeeze them. Conquer that upper class, seductive swing of her slacks-encased buttocks and do with them as I wished.

I let my hands slip around to the base of her arse. My thumbs touched the low swell of her thrusting bum. She renewed her efforts to escape, beginning to hit me on the shoulders. I drew her towards me, ignoring the fairly heavy blows she was landing on my shoulders and chest.

Some sixth sense told me that although this woman was now my employer, the relationship was somehow not all that it should be. I felt that by accepting the job of returning her ward, I had placed her heavily in my debt ...

"What do you think you're doing?" she cried, her voice breaking. "Stop it! Stop it this instant, do you hear?" Her words only made me want her all the more. I pulled her down on top of me, her body going off-balance and sprawling helplessly against mine. My hands turned and I gripped her buttocks tightly, fingers sinking deeply into the plentiful flesh.

The bikini panties only covered a fraction of her arse. The greater part of the two soft cheeks was protected only by the taut, clinging blue slacks. I played with her buttocks fiercely, pinching and turning the uptilted orbs and feeling her hard, bumpy mons veneris pressing tightly against my rising prick.

Maybe I was crazy to do this to her. But at the point where I expected her to fight with all her might against me, she suddenly relaxed. Her fists stopped hitting me. She turned her angrily flashing eyes on me and looked me coolly in the face.

"All right!" she said. "Go on - feel them! They're lovely, aren't they?" I could feel the muscles of her arse relaxing. The cheeks became more supple and pliable.

"Go on!" she urged me. "Take big handfuls of them! Pinch them! Pull them!" She made her crotch slide up and down over my bulgy prick. "That's what you want, isn't it?" She put the palms of her hands on my cheeks. She looked at me, a sudden passion lighting up in her eyes. "You bastard!" she suddenly whispered. "You bastard!"

And then her lips jammed themselves against mine and her sharp teeth sank into my tongue, biting it with short, teasing snaps.

She kissed me more passionately than ! can remember any woman kissing me. Her mouth was alive and constantly moving against mine. She did all the work of slithering her lips juicily against my teeth; of working her tongue deeply into my mouth and running it round and round my teeth and gums.

Then, as suddenly and abruptly as she's started, Miss Parkington jerked herself away. She stood up, breathing hard - her face flushed and her hair untidy. I started to reach out for her again but she held her finger up. "No - wait a moment!"

I waited. She started to revolve her hips sexily, grinding and bumping them like a professional strip-teaser. Her hands went up to her hair and she held her head back, closing her eyes and opening her mouth in ecstatic wonder. Then her fingers moved to the buttons fastening her blouse. One by one she untied them. She slipped the white blouse off, showing me her black brassiere and the generous flow of flesh which the nipped-in garment couldn't quite restrain.

Her hands cupped her breasts, and she looked coyly at me - as if she was trying to hide them from my lascivious gaze. Imperceptibly at first, Miss Parkington then massaged them, all the while gyrating her hips and squeezing her thighs seductively together.

She reached one hand up behind her back and the next moment I saw that her brassiere had been skillfully unhooked. She rubbed the black undergarment across her tits - finally letting it slip through her fingers to the floor. Miss Parkington's fingers continued their masturbatory massage, this time on the creamy bareness of her nude breasts.

She let me catch fleeting glimpses of her plump, erect nipples and then she would quickly, blushingly cover them with her fingers - occasionally plucking tentatively at the enormous cherries. The woman seemed to know every secret of the stripper's art. She brought me to fever pitch before, with a show of sensual reluctance, she finally slid her fingers down away from her breasts and allowed me to feast my eyes on them in all their naked glory.

Her tits were large and beautifully well-shaped. But what caught my attention was the fantastic length of her nipples. They were at least an inch in length - thick, sprouting red bubs that seemed to demand a hot, sucking mouth on them.

She posed for me silently, knowing full well the effect her enormous nipples were having on me. Judging that I was now ready for further revelations, Miss Parkington turned her attention to her slacks.

Those long tapered fingers plucked at her belt, loosening it, tossing it carelessly to one side. She unzipped the fly, running her fingers down the opening it made until they rested on the oval bulge of her prominent crotch.

She toyed at the pantie covered entrance to her cave of Venus for a little while. And then her hands began the difficult task of maneuvering her slacks off. She bent forward, making her breasts hang low in front of me - the nipples pointing with erotic, swaying tension at the floor.

Miss Parkington adopted several interesting and stimulating poses before she finally tugged her tight-fitting slacks down her legs and stepped daintily out of them. When she was rid of this encumbrance, she stood up straight again. Her panties were clinging with sticky firmness to her hips. She turned so that I could enjoy the view from the rear as well.

My eyes felt red and heavy. As I watched, Miss Parkington took the ridge of her pants and drew it up so that both of her sweetly rounded arse cheeks were offered for my inspection. The panties were folded up into her crease and the woman tugged them cheekily and adopted a legs-apart stance to give me a perfect vision of her barely-covered cunt.

From my angle of sight, sitting down, I was able to see clearly right between her legs. And the spectacle I drank in so avidly was that of her large-lipped, fat, bulgy cunt held in check by her almost-transparent under briefs. Miss Parkington tugged the material up from the front as well - making the tightly covered cunt wobble slightly. She turned round again.

"And now what would you like me to do?" she asked provocatively. She stood there waiting, her hands resting lightly on her hips. I got up out of the chair, feeling my cock sticking out in front of me, thrusting angrily against the pressure of my pants and trousers.

Slowly, I took her in my arms. I kissed the soft whiteness of her shoulders. I hugged her hot, straining body to me. Her hands slid down to my chest and quickly unbuttoned my shirt, helping me off with it. She knelt in front of me and unzipped my fly, pulling my trousers down swiftly. I stepped out of them. Miss Parkington rubbed my stiff prick through the nylon underpants, making it protrude bulgingly through the thin materiel.

She massaged my weapon with both hands. Her fingers pressed it tightly and held it while she moved her mouth forward - lips open and wet. She took my cock into her mouth through the Skants, soaking the nylon pants with her saliva. I felt my prick being sucked securely between her hot, pursed lips, felt her teeth bearing down on the rigid flesh of my imprisoned weapon.

Miss Parkington sucked and chewed on my cock while I stood there fighting back the urge to throw her down and fuck the life out of her. At last she lifted her face away a little. She began to ease my pants down, carefully lifting them over the violently pulsing hardness of my prick.

It sprang out suddenly from its goal, jerking upwards out of my pants - the head quiveringly red. Once more, Miss Parkington felt it: this time without the intervening pants to hinder her caresses ...

She fingered and rolled the supple foreskin up and down. Her hands slid quickly across the flat of my stomach, teasing and tormenting my pubic hairs as she bent her face once more to the task of sucking and chewing at my prick.

I watched her as she drew my cock slowly into her mouth, stretching her lips - those red, soft, sensitively wet lips - around the red thrusting gristle. I tensed my hips, urging my cock all the way in.

She met the challenge, taking the whole length into her mouth, closing her lips tightly around my urging prick. Her teeth bit softly on the pulsing stem and I could feel electric tingles sparking up and down my rod - as if it were a lightning conductor and a violent storm was in progress.

Miss Parkington was making loud, slurping noises. Obviously, she was enjoying her work! She began to give my cock slow, long drawn out sucks, taking deep breaths in between them. Her fingers left my prick and I saw her fumbling at her panties. She rolled them swiftly down her thighs and wriggled her feet out of them.

She seemed intent on making me come my lot into her mouth. But this time I wanted to push it into a more intimate hole. My mind still retained its vision of that stupendous arse and I knew that I'd never be really satisfied until I'd rammed it between her fat, bouncy cheeks and driven it tightly up into her dainty little arsehole.

I couldn't wait another minute! Quickly, I jerked my cock out of Miss Parkington's mouth. Her teeth bit down into me as she tried desperately to stop the withdrawal. But I was determined. And my prick plopped out from between her lips, glistening wetly from her urgently salavitating mouth.

"Why - why did you do that?" she mumbled, lifting her flushed, hot-eyed face. "Because I want to put it somewhere else!" I told her.

She was in a dream-like, distant state and I easily turned her over so that she lay tummy-down on the thick pile carpet. I got down on top of her. Miss. Parkington didn't seem to fully realize what I was going to do until she felt my fiery rod pushing itself in between her gorgeously smooth buttocks.

"You mustn't ... You mustn't do that!" she panted. "I can't let you. It's horrible! It'll hurt me too much!"

I fought her silently. She squeezed her arse globes tightly together, squashing the cheeks to try and close the crevice. I plumped my full weight on her, forcing her body into the carpet. She twisted violently. She wriggled and squirmed, thrashing her legs in futile attempts to throw me off.

"Better lie still and enjoy it!" I told her. "Because that's where you're going to get it!"

My hands were pushing at her bottom, forcing the cheeks to yield up the secret back hole which I desired so much. Miss Parkington seemed suddenly to realize that her struggles were useless. She went limp. The muscles of her bottom slackened and the fleshy globes under my fingers relaxed and became supple and loose once more.

I parted them carefully until the crease widened sufficiently for me to see the hidden pursed pinkness of Miss Parkington's arsehole. I held the bum cheeks widely splayed. My prick pointed, then fitted snugly against Miss Parkington's rear entrance.

I felt the tender tip of my cock pushing its rigid way into the open petal. It slid in up to the ridge of my foreskin. Then the going became much tougher. She moaned beneath me, her bottom protesting against this vigorous, rough intruder. I reached my hands under her - feeling for those svelte melons with the long, fat nipples. My fingers closed around her tits and I clenched them tightly around the sweet fleshy globes.

I could feel and hear Miss Parkington's breath coming in long drawn out pants. "They're so tender - so precious!" she gasped. "Treat them gently, please - please!"

Something in her voice belied her words. "You won't touch my little nipples, will you?" she begged. "Not my sore, tiny little tits -!"

I smiled slightly. She was, of course, pleading with me to fondle her teats. And I was more than willing to oblige her. My fingers found them - those succulent dangling nipples and I turned them round and round, pressing and lunching them cruelly. Her bottom began to heave beneath me. The more I squeezed and mistreated her nipples, the more she humped herself - trying to drive my prick into her arsehole despite the anguish and pain it was certainly causing her.

I felt my cock slide a little further into her. She yelped like a wounded animal. The cry made me even more ruthless. It exploded untapped currents of sadism within me and I wanted with all my might to pierce the soft, silky membrane of her arse tissue.

Gripping her innocent, unprotected breasts as hard as I could, I savagely drove my cock all the rest of the way into that tight, pouting little anus. She screamed loudly in shock as my sword of flesh pierced her. Her parted thighs closed around my legs, clamping me inside her.

I let it rest quietly all the way in for a little while.' Just to lay there and feel her narrow back passageway gluing itself to my throbbing weapon was exciting enough. And I wanted to savor every moment of this glorious arse fuck.

But evidently Miss Parkington, having got used to the feel of my prick wedged inside her forbidden hole, desired action! She gently, slowly, wiggled her fascinating arse cheeks, making my cock twitch with a tickling, fiercely exciting sensation. Taking heart from the fact that this movement hadn't split her wide open, Miss Parkington herself started to grind herself on my prick.

She drew herself up and away from it, making my cock recede from the widened hole. Then, with a tormenting wriggling movement, she eased herself back down on my tool - sinking it once more to the hilt inside her.

Again and again she repeated this action. I lay on top of her, playing with her nipples, while she gave me the most satisfying arse-grind I'd ever experienced. And then I realized it was my turn to do the work. I put my hands back on the cheeks of that tempting and curvy behind. I imagined her once more with those incredibly tight slacks pasted to her arse. I revolved her cheeks. I splayed them as far apart as they'd go.

I squashed them up tightly together until I could feel them totally burying my prick in between their hot warmth. I let my fingers stray beneath them until they found the oozing wetness of her cunt.

The sleek lips were soon parted and my fingers delved stickily into her open cunt-hole. She began to wriggle uncontrollably beneath them - thrusting her buttocks up so that my fingers could penetrate her oily damp more effectively.

I began frigging away at her front slot; slowly at first, gradually increasing the tempo until my fingers were sliding, slithering in and out of her cunt with blurring speed. I could feel my own prick through the thin membrane wall separating her arsehole from her cunt. And I began to drive harder and harder into her sticky anus. Strokes which coursed their wedging, fucking way up into the very heart of the woman's bowels.

She was babbling insanely, bubbling cries coming from her lips which told of her intense excitement. "Fuck my arse - Christ, you're fucking my arse," she moaned. "It's deep, tight up inside my bum! Spunk into me, darling - let me feel your spunk in my arse! Please - NOW!! Do it now!!!"

As she mumbled these words, I felt her cunt shooting its flood of oily liquid onto my fingers. Spasmodically, oblivious to everything around her, Miss Parkington pumped her sex fluids from her steaming hole. At the same time, I found I could no longer control the fantastic itch which was being generated in my prick. I let my cock drive in and out of that dark tight tunnel with frenzied strokes until the tickling reached a peak of intensity.

Then - with a roar that I felt to be coming from my very soul, I fucked my third orgasm of the day into the quivering, pouting arsehole - streaking my spunking cream like a thick enema as hard as I could up Miss Parkington's unresisting anus.

Spent at last, I watched through bleary eyes as my prick slowly withdrew from between her perfect, shapely hemispheres. I rubbed the last drops of come from my cock on those half-moons of arse flesh, wiping my weapon dry on the satin-smooth surfaces. Then I rolled off her, still gasping for breath.

She lay absolutely quietly - as if she were in a coma. But her legs were still twitching slightly, and I noted with satisfaction that she bore the marks of my fingernails on her ample buttocks. The skin was tainted with angry red weals where I'd pressed so savagely into her vulnerable cheeks.

I lay there watching her for a few minutes in silence. She showed no signs of moving or even of opening her eyes. I got silently to my feet and decided to have a brief look around the room. In particular, I wanted to see if there was anything of interest in the drawer of that bureau bookcase. When she'd opened it I had seen a row of recording tapes.

As I said before, something about her request to return her ward to her had struck me as odd. Odd and rather suspicious. Particularly as she'd agreed without arguing about it to my pretty high fee for the job.

I kept an eye on her, watching carefully for any sign of attention from her, as I stealthily opened the drawer and reached inside ...

Chapter THREE

... My fingers closed over a box and I pulled it out. I glanced at it. It was a Philips' magnetic recording tape - a long player. A label had been stuck across the front. On it were typed the words: "Julie's Schooldays".

Without quite knowing why, I stuffed it into my jacket pocket. The inside one. Miss Parkington was beginning to stir and I closed the drawer quickly and stepped away from it. I moved nearer to her and started to button my shirt up.

She turned over on her side, towards me, her eves slowly opening, a faint murmuring coming from between her lips. "Mmmmm," she sighed. "That was wonderful!" She propped herself up on one elbow. "We must do that again some time. I've never been fucked that way before. Could you tell?"

I smiled and nodded. "You forget - I'm a private detective," I told her, grinning. She blushed slightly and looked away. "Was it that obvious?" she asked. "Anyway, after you've brought Julie back we'll get to know each other even better. O.K.?"

I was fastening the belt of my trousers. "Why not?" I said. She looked at me, cocking her head on one side "You're a cool one!" she said. "Doesn't it really mean anything to you - a woman saying something like that?"

"Lady, the days when men were gracious and treated women as things on a pedestal is long past," I told her. "Let's both be glad it happened and not put too much value on it. Yes?"

She stood up and started to dress. "You're quite a bastard, aren't you?" she said. "Or perhaps I should say, you work hard at being one."

"I'd better start looking for Julie," I said. One thing I couldn't stand was women assuming that because you'd fucked them your relationship was going to develop. And my old irritation (what the hell was it through? Her accent? Something about her which I couldn't yet fathom but which instinctively repelled me?) was returning.

I finished dressing and went to the door. "I'll see myself out," I said. She didn't reply. I walked to the front door and opened it. She still didn't say anything and I left.

Outside, I turned my jacket collar up and hurried to the tube station. A light rain was beginning to fall and the sky was dark with ominous black clouds. The tape bulged under my coat, reminding me that I had some listening to do when I got home.

I lived in a small flat of the Portobello Road in Hammersmith. I picked up the car from the underground garage in Wardour Street and drove slowly through the heavy traffic. It had been quite a day, all things considered. And I had a feeling that today's events were leading me into a strange and unpredictable adventure.

I parked the car and walked up the two flights to my flat. I opened the door and a fist smashed into my face from nowhere, spinning me in a dazed heap to the floor. My head banged into the limo and a sharp pain stabbed through the back of my neck.

I looked up, blinking. My eyes were slightly out of focus and I had trouble seeing who had hit me. Before I could make out anything definite, a boot came kicking towards my head. I rolled over quickly, heard it thud into the wall behind me and scrambled to my feet. I began to swing at the character who'd tried to put the boot in. but before my fist was halfway towards him. a hand grabbed my arm from behind and twisted - hard!

I stumbled off balance and the first man hit me twice in the face. I felt my lip split and tasted hot salt. My jaw seemed out of joint and my teeth ached painfully. The hand released my arm and as I began to slide helplessly to the floor again, yet another blow caught me on the side of the head.

This had happened on about three occasions to me but I still hadn't managed to get used to a beating. It was a hazard of the profession, obviously, and I should have kept myself in shape for fighting. Thirty cigarettes a day and a bottle of Johnnie Walker to wash them down wasn't keeping me in shape ...

It seemed, though, as if they thought I'd had enough. Which was unusual. As a rule they inflicted at least twice as much punishment. But now they were stepping back from me, giving me room to catch my breath and spit blood from my mouth.

I shook my head fuzzily and looked up at them. They were big boys. Young but very well-built. I started to wonder who'd put them on me. Then one of them spoke. "That was a taster, Prentice," he said. "There's plenty more of it - and worse - if you don't do as we tell you."

"And what are you telling me?" I asked, sucking at my lower lip. It was beginning to swell and it felt already as if a large boil had suddenly grown there.

"To stay away from Julie Marshall!" he said. "We're friends of hers and she's not going back to that bitch, Wendy Parkington - understand?"

I finally got them into focus. They were definitely not the usual type of thug - the ones hired to do a beating-up or worse. They looked intelligent, they spoke with that mixture of a working class and Oxford accent which you meet everywhere these days.

"What's wrong with Wendy Parkington?" I asked them. "And what the hell do you think you're doing - interfering in a private matter?"

One of them stepped closer to me. He grabbed my lapels and pulled me roughly to my feet. "Listen, Prentice," he said, his face pushed up close to mine. "Why we're telling you to keep away from Julie is our business! The kid's in bad trouble and we're trying to help her. That's all you need to know."

I acted more punch drunk than I really was. I made a great effort to keep my eyes steady and my body straight. "O.K., I got the message," I told him, slurring my words deliberately. "It's not my sort of case anyway." He slowly released my coat. I rubbed my fingers gingerly over my bruised face.

"Just tell me - how did you know she'd hired a private investigator? Have you got her phone tapped or something?"

He smiled. The other man came forward and they exchanged a brief glance which seemed, in effect, to say: "It's all right. He's taken the warning - he's been scared off."

They both visibly relaxed. "We've been keeping tabs on her," the second man told me. "And she knows we've been watching her - seeing who goes to the house. We guessed she'd try go get a private detective after Julie: there's no one else who'd be low enough to do the job."

I said: "I see." And it would have been easy to let it go at that. But for one thing I just couldn't afford to let a couple of middle class hoodlums break into my place, beat me up and warm me off a case I hadn't even started to investigate. It was bad for the image.

Secondly, I had to admit that the girl had me intrigued. To get her back, Wendy Parkington had immediately agreed to pay me a huge fee. And it was crossing my mind, too, that maybe the arse-fucking she'd submitted to without too much of a struggle was also part of the price she was willing to pay ...

"So you're going to be sensible, Prentice?" he said, breaking into my speculation. I shrugged. "Doesn't seem as if I've got much choice," I told him. "Is that all?"

"That's all," he said. They turned and started for the door. Before they could turn the handle I called sharply: "Oh, just one thing -."

They looked round. I'd brought out the Luger and was snapping the safety catch off. The short, sharp click echoed around the room.

"You bloody fool!" one of them said. I wasn't too clear whether he was talking to me or to his companion. "Back up a bit," I told them. "You -" I waved the gun at the first man. "Into the bathroom. Quick - move it!"

He edged reluctantly into the small room and I turned the key in the lock. Fortunately, I always keep the key on the outside of the door when I'm not using the bathroom. It had proved a very useful maneuver in the past.

"Hands behind your back!" I ordered the other man. He obeyed and I stepped up close to him. Before he could even wince - let alone dodge the blow - I slashed the gun butt across his face.

He cried out loudly as the metal tore into his mouth, cutting deeply into his lips, drawing blood. I brought the gun down again as he started to slide to the floor and then I laid it carefully on the table.

He was moaning and clutching at his face. I aimed, my leg drawn back - then kicked him in the stomach as hard as I could. He doubled up, drawing his knees up nearly to his chin.

I waited a moment until I judged that his pain had subsided enough for him to take in what I was going to say. Then I said: "You're dealing with professionals, little man. I have a silencer for this gun and the next time you bother me I'll shoot you. Understand?"

He nodded his head weakly. I said: "I can't afford to have punks like you interfering in my business. I've been asked to bring back this girl to her lawful guardian. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. Now beat it!"

He got unsteadily to his feet. He went out of the room without another word and I heard his footsteps disappear down the stairs. Then I unlocked the bathroom door.

As soon as the key turned he came charging out of the room. His body thumped into me and we both fell sprawling to the floor. I was getting sick of this. My jaw ached terribly and I could still taste fresh blood in my mouth.

I grabbed his fists before they could do any more damage and sank my fingernails into his wrists. At the same time my knee came up viciously into his groin and he screamed in agony. I hustled his body off mine and stomped in his face, grinding my heel into his mouth.

He clutched at my ankle and nearly brought me toppling to the floor again. But I managed to keep my balance and jerked my leg free. I bent down quickly and brought my flattened hand down sideway into his throat. He gurgled speechlessly, coughing desperately for air.

I socked him in the mouth, crunching my knuckles as hard as I could against his lips. His head snapped back and slammed against the floor. He lay still. He was still conscious - but only just.

I told him what I'd told the other man, and when he'd regained enough strength to stand I sent him on his way. I waited until I heard the front door shut downstairs and then went over to the window. The two men were walking down the street together, slowly.

I didn't think they'd bother me again. Not tonight, anyway. But I already felt as If I'd more than earned the �300 fee from Miss Parkington. And I'd certainly earned a generous measure of Johnnie Walker. I got the bottle out and poured a stiff one. The liquor made me feel better inside, but my lips were puffed up and my head was sore as hell.

I smeared Germaline on my mouth and stuck some adhesive tape across the cuts on my lips. The tumbler was re-filled with whisky and I sank into an armchair, letting my muscles relax and my nerves quieten down again.

Then I fished the tape out of my jacket pocket. There was nothing on the box to indicate what was recorded, apart from the title: "Julie's Schooldays." I switched on my portable tape recorder and threaded the tape.

It ran for a few minutes with nothing but static coming out of the loudspeaker. I began to think it was blank all the way through. And then a girl's voice, sweet and well-modulated, broke into the silence. She was speaking softly and carefully, the sound lulling and soothing to the senses.

I lit a cigarette and turned the volume up. Maybe now I would get some idea of what Julie Marshall was like - and why a woman was offering me �300 to "persuade" her to return. And why two well-spoken thugs thought it necessary to beat me up to prevent me from doing just that.

For I had no doubt at all that the quiet, rather husky and definitely sexy voice that was purring out of the tape recorder speaker belonged to Julie Marshall ...

Chapter FOUR

"I was sent away to boarding school when I reached the age of seventeen -" (the girl began). "My parents wanted me to study for a university degree and they decided that I should go to an advanced school for girls in the West Country of England. This school also specialized in training young girls to be poised and confident - a sort of debutante college, though at a lower class level, of course.

"On my arrival I was met at the station by the Headmistress, Miss Hopkins. She was a friend of the family and had frequently visited my parents during school vacations. Miss Hopkins was a woman of about 35. She was beautiful - I had always looked upon her as my ideal; the sort of woman I dreamed of one day becoming.

"I remember on one occasion she and I were alone together in the house. My parents had gone off to visit a sick relative and Miss Hopkins was playing some new classical records she'd brought over. We sat together on the settee with the lights down low, listening enraptured to a Beethoven String Quartet.

"As the music progressed; she would explain to me the finer points of contrapuntal rhythms, her face bending close to mine, the shadows from the table lamp masking her face with subtle shades of darkness and light. Her arm would press softly against mine and I could smell the wonderful sweetness of her perfume, rich and exotic, conjuring up for me images of unknown sensuality.

"Oh, that's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked as the Quartet came to a magnificent close. "Beethoven is so powerful - so tremendous!" She got up and took the record off. I watched her as she selected another disc from the shelf. Her dress clung tightly to her body, her shapely bare arms were white and gracious in their movements.

"I felt so attracted to her. I wanted her to take me in her arms and hug me close. But I knew, of course, that this was an impossible dream ...

"Miss Hopkins returned to the settee as the music started again. This time she'd put on a soft, dreamy Prelude by Wagner. The music slowly filled the room and I closed my eyes, letting my senses become totally absorbed by the romantic sounds. Miss Hopkins gently drew my head on her shoulder, keeping her arm around me - her fingers lightly touching the upper slope of my arm.

"She began to cuddle me, very slowly and softly at first, and I felt an almost unbearable thrill go through my body at this unexpected pleasure. Her fingers stroked my arm a few times and then - as if it were pure chance - I felt her hand slide further across and lay gently on my right breast.

"I lay still, hardly daring to breathe. My eyes opened slightly and I realized that I could see quite a way down the cleavage of her dress. But surely all the buttons had been fastened when she'd got up to change the record? Now, the top three were undone. I swallowed, feeling my throat suddenly go very dry.

"The upper swells of her gently rising and falling titties were plainly visible. The next moment, I saw her hand come across and absently slide into her dress - fingered her breast, lifting the large, creamy mound and rubbing it with slow deliberation. I sucked in my breath sharply as Miss Hopkins suddenly pulled her breast free of her dress. The large pink nipple came into view - and I realized that she was toying with herself for my benefit!

"Her other hand still rested on my own, somewhat smaller breast. And now, imitating the action of her left hand, Miss Hopkins started to massage me. She rubbed my breast with her fingers, keeping her thumb underneath the globe as if to steady it. I didn't dare to move - or to speak!

"She continued to caress our breasts until the music finally ended, by which time my face was hot and flushed and I could feel curious itching sensations between my legs. The record player switched itself off. There was a long silence and then Miss Hopkins gently disengaged her hand from my breast.

"She brought it round and softly lifted my face up. I knew that what I was feeling was nakedly displayed on my face and I began to tremble. But my eyes simply wouldn't take themselves away from the spot where they were riveted: the impudent, really erect nipple which Miss Hopkins was still running her finger over. "'Come, my dear!" the woman said, smiling sweetly into my face. 'Surely you've seen another woman's titty before? Tell me, do you like the shape of mine?' She lifted it up towards me, squeezing the soft, white flesh between her fingers.

"Yes, oh yes, I do!" I cried suddenly. "It's really wonderful!" Still smiling, Miss Hopkins said: "Would you like to see the other one as well?"

"I could hardly speak, my lips were trembling so! Finally I managed to reply: "May I? Will you really show it to me?"

"On one condition," Miss Hopkins answered, I waited for her to continue, my eyes still fastened anxiously on the bareness which the older woman was holding and rubbing. "You must let me see yours, as well!"

"I felt as if I'd been given an electric shock! I'd never played such games before and I suddenly wondered just how far Miss Hopkins intended to go. Could it be that she wanted to go all the way - reveal to me all the feminine secrets of herself and in return make me show her my own nude body? Nervously, I fumbled at the buttons of my blouse. Shyly, I drew the material aside, exposing my smaller, but (I thought) very shapely young breasts.

"Miss Hopkins put her hand over one, starting to squeeze it through the brassiere cup. Then she said: "Come, come! This will never do! You'll have to take your bra off, my dear. How can I judge them when they're hidden away so carefully?"

"I reached up behind me and my shaking fingers finally managed to unhook my brassiere. She helped me to slip the straps down over my shoulders and out of my arms. Then she tugged lightly and my brassiere fell away. I felt like immediately covering my exposed breasts with my hands, but before I could move, Miss Hopkins herself placed her fingers firmly over my naked beauties.

"She examined them carefully, cupping and turning the hard yet supple flesh over and over in her hand. "Mmmm!" she exclaimed at last. "I like this very much, my dear. So young and so tender, isn't it?" I felt her fingertips pluck at my sweet little nipple, beginning to coax it into full bloom. Under the teasing pressure, the petal flowered proudly and I felt an intense arousal of desire as I looked down and saw that my pert nipple was throbbing into a state of full erectness.

"Here," Miss Hopkins said. "You touch mine and we'll see who's can grow the biggest." She took my hand, releasing her own breast, and laid it softly on her bosom. I gingerly let my fingers close around the warm, velvet-textured titty, cupping Miss Hopkins' breast with light-fingered caution.

"Miss Hopkins began to giggle. "Silly girl!" she exclaimed. "That's not the way to do it! Here - squeeze it as hard as I'm squeezing yours -." And she proceeded to tighten her fingers around my breast, digging into the giving flesh and making me nearly loose my breath.

"See what I mean? Now you copy me!" Fearfully at first, I obediently tightened my grip on Miss Hopkins' breast. The warmth and softness of her generously-proportioned titty seemed to urge me to sink my fingers into it as hard as I could. The muscles were vibrant with sleek, heavy power and I took the full weight of her breast in my hand, letting the moon-shaped swell rest like a live thing under my palm.

"And now my nipple ... " Miss Hopkins whispered. "You must touch it, Julie! I want you to feel it so much!"

I let my forefinger and thumb slowly close over the ripened bud. I tweaked it gently, pressing my fingers together over the jutting, impertinent nip. I felt Miss Hopkins wriggle slightly and she increased the pressure of her fingers on my own breast.

Together, we gently played with each others' nipples. I let my eyes close and felt myself being gradually wafted into an ecstatic dream-like state where time stood completely still. My fingers dipped again and again into the generously pliable curve of Miss Hopkins' breast and I clenched my fist tightly shut over the so-white flesh, squeezing deliberately and firmly.

It was very hard to say what was exciting me more - the luxurious freedom of doing whatever I liked to Miss Hopkins' mature and large titty, or the tickling pain of having my own breast manipulated and caressed by the older woman. After a little while, she began to urge my face downwards by applying a little gentle pressure at the back of my head.

I allowed myself to be propelled towards the glowing red tip of Miss Hopkins' nipple. It wobbled delightfully in the very centre of her breast. My lips brushed softly against it and I felt the hard and prominent rose nudge itself saucily against my front teeth.

The next instant, acting instinctively, I let it slip into my mouth. My tongue tentatively licked at the succulent morsel and I closed my lips tightly around the stiff woman's-nipple and began to suck. I drew steadily on it, making it stretch like rubber - pulling a quantity of her breast into my mouth at the same time.

I felt Miss Hopkins begin to pant. Her breath was starting to come in steady, rhythmical pants which made her breast tremble against my mouth. I daringly lifted my hand and placed it underneath the hanging half-circle, holding the woman's breast steady against my lips. Then I renewed my sucking.

My own nipple was beginning to hurt - Miss Hopkins was playing with it so roughly! She tweaked and teased the bud, deliberately running her fingernails across the centre of my peak and scratching slowly and tormentingly into my swelling young nip.

At last, she softly pulled my face away from her breast. I looked up into her eyes. They were hot and excited and her lips were parted; shining with red flecked wetness. I kept my hands possessively on her breasts, holding the twin cups steadily.

She regarded me for a few minutes in utter silence. Then she spoke. "Julie ... " Her voice was pregnant with hoarse and as yet unspoken lust. I felt my thighs quiver uncontrollably as I waited for her to continue.

"Julie ... There's no need for us to have any secrets, is there? We shouldn't have to hide our bodies from each other, should we? Wouldn't you like to examine the rest of my body ... and let me have a long, lingering look at your charms?"

I couldn't trust myself to speak. I knew that my words would have come out in shy, stammering, naive phrases. Instead, I nodded slowly, trying vainly to control the deep blush which I knew was spreading across my face.

Miss Hopkins permitted herself a brief half-smile. She stroked my hand lightly - the one which was still encompassing her full, soft breast. Then she said: "Then let yourself relax completely, my dear, sweet girl. Come - lie down full length on the settee and I'll examine you. Pretend you're at the doctor's, if you like. You must put yourself completely at my disposal and allow me to touch you and move you in whatever way I desire ... "

She got up slowly and made room for me to stretch out full-length on my back. I lay back on the soft cushions and closed my eyes again. I could hear the faint rustle of Miss Hopkins's dress as she moved slightly, preparing to give me a complete and, I knew, very thorough examination.

Gently, carefully, I felt my rather brief skirt being raised. I knew that Miss Hopkins' hands were lifting it up above my thighs, exposing my young but shapely legs. I felt it ride up and fall in disorderly pleats across my tummy. My white silken panties were tugged up firmly over my crotch, sheathing me like a second skin. I always wore pants that were two sizes too small for me because I loved the tight feel of them against my bottom and against the pearly pink lips of my quim.

Luckily, I had my best white suspender belt on as well - and a new pair of flesh coloured nylon stockings. I knew that the picture I was presenting to Miss Hopkins was certainly provocative and (I dared to imagine) very sexy indeed.

Many times, I'd stood in front of a full-length mirror in my bedroom, posing in my underwear for myself, and I realized what a tempting spectacle was stretched out for her now. My pretty, vee-shaped young cunt bulged plumply up through the stretched white silk. It was burning hot, and I knew that Miss Hopkins was feasting her beautiful eyes on the place.

And then a trembling shudder coursed through my body as Miss Hopkins laid her hands softly on the inside of my thighs, gently persuading them to part. Her fingers were splayed out high up on my inner leg - two of them resting on the bare skin between my stocking tops and the hem of my panties; the others pressing firmly but tenderly into the exciting silk stockings themselves.

I allowed my legs to be opened and the woman began to massage the very soft flesh. She coaxed and rubbed at my inner thighs, making her fingers roam up and down the quivering flesh and causing me to squirm in delicious excitement.

Her caress grew more and more bolder - soon her inquisitive fingertips strayed to the pantie-encased mound of my mons veneris and I felt her begin to rub meaningfully at my crotch, sliding her fingers along the very middle of the oval bulge and down until they tickled sweetly at the closed slit of my cunt.

While one of her hands continued to massage my thigh (occasionally slipping beneath the very tight fit of my stocking to rub and finger further down my leg), her other hand abandoned all pretense and concentrated on finding its way underneath the elastic ridge of my panties. I felt her fingers skillfully work themselves under the restraining silk and start to caress the erotic spot just above my clitty.

I moaned helplessly, unable to stop the sounds coming from my mouth. Slowly, deliberately, the woman was working me up into a state of acute desire, where I couldn't prevent her from doing whatever she wished with me.

And now ... and now, her insidious fingers worked their probing way into my slit itself, parting the damp lips and beginning to touch the open, tender flesh of my itching quim. One finger toyed with the quivering red tongue of my clitoris, teasing and caressing it until I felt it rise and thrust itself up in erect and angry lust.

Steadily, Miss Hopkins inserted another finger into my vagina, worming the digit remorselessly into my tight, virginal hole. My hands were balled up into tight fists. I crushed my fingernails desperately to stop myself from crying out. The pleasure and intense excitement that was being generated in my cunt-region was almost too great to bear!

"Ah, my darling, darling girl!" I heard Miss Hopkins murmur. "So sweet, so precious! Your little cunt is gorgeous - I've simply got to tickle it! Like that ... Is that nice, my pet?"

As she spoke, I felt her starting to turn her imprisoned finger round and round. I squirmed deliriously, gasping in reply: "Oooh, yes! Yes, Miss Hopkins - it's wonderful! It's - it's just bliss!!"

I could feel my cunt getting wetter and wetter as the woman persisted in her tickling and frigging of it. "And now," she whispered. "And now, my darling - let me see it bare, in all its glory -!"

And she audaciously began to take my panties down, withdrawing her hand briefly to permit the tiny silken garment to be tugged past my hips. Quickly, she pulled them down my legs and slipped them deftly over my ankles. I hadn't yet dared to open my eyes, but as Miss Hopkins returned her fingers to my damp cunt, I peeped through half-closed lids to watch her.

Again, I felt that wonderful sensation of tingling ticklishness as she once more parted my slit and pushed her fingers against the revealed hotness of my quim. On Miss Hopkins' face was a look of transfigured desire. Her lovely red lips were parted and her eyes were wide and staring.

Her gaze was fixed unblinkingly on my exposed private parts as she moved her fingers against the slick pearliness of my unprotected, naked and forced-open cunt.

She once more commenced to frig me, sliding her finger up and down the tight, contracted tunnel of my young pussy. I closed my eyes again. It was impossible to keep them open, I found, as I sank into reveries of completely abandoned sexual fantasy. So sensual, so acutely aware of what my tactile cunt required in the way of stimulation, was Miss Hopkins! She knew precisely how to lift me to wonderfully ecstatic peaks of delight; lower me gently, almost to earth and then begin again to raise my emotions and my desires to the heights of erotic stimulation!

I became completely carried away, and at first I scarcely noticed that a new and even more thrilling caress was being given to me. A liquid, tickling warmth pervaded my crotch. A sexy, tingling wetness was running up and down the length of my parted cunt-lips. I lifted my head slightly from its cushion and forced my eyes to look down.

There was Miss Hopkins, her head bent closely over my loins, one hand still stroking the stockinged silk of my thigh; the other sweetly manipulating my clitty. Whilst her mouth was firmly fastened over my dickie - her tongue fully extended and licking and lapping beautifully into my totally exposed cunt!

I could feel her bare breasts brushing against my thigh, too, as she leaned sideways over me. This was sensuous enough - but to actually feel her bright red, fleshy lips kissing my lower mouth in a passionate French kiss! I nearly swooned with ecstasy, letting my head fall back helplessly on the cushion again - unable to de anything but submit passively to Miss Hopkins' lesbian ministrations.

Like a live thing, her tongue curled wetly into me - forcing its wriggling, snake-like passage up into the very heart of my cunt. For what seemed like an eternity she cunt-sucked me, making my quim exude uncontrollable gushes of hot spunk into her open mouth.

Finally, she withdrew her face. White foam bubbled on her lips as she raised her head to look at me.

"Turn over, my darling!" she whispered hoarsely. "There's another place I haven't seen yet - and I want to see it so much!"

So saying, she helped me to turn over on the settee until I presented her with the vision of my nude and sleek young buttocks. I heard her give a loud gasp of sheer pleasure. "Beautiful! Beautiful!" she murmured. I tensed my buttocks, contracting the cheeks so that they clenched tightly shut, hiding the forbidden cleft.

"No, no!" Miss Hopkins protested. "You mustn't do that, Julie darling!" She placed her hands possessively over my clammed-up bottom. Her fingers plucked at the cheeks, trying vainly to prise them open. "Come along, now!" she ordered. "Loosen them, Julie. I want to inspect your bottom and you know I can't do that with your little bum so tightly shut!"

But an instinctive, prudish reflex action forced me to keep my bottom tensed up. I forced the muscles together as if my very life depended on them not being relaxed to reveal my tiny little arsehole.

"Very well, then." Miss Hopkins' voice was calm and firm. "I shall have to give you a sound spanking - I can see that!" As she spoke, she quickly placed one hand on the small of my back, pressing me into the settee: keeping me still. The other hand remained on my bottom.

She lifted it - paused - and then brought it down with a hard smack, stinging my left cheek. "Ow!" I cried loudly. "That stung!"

"I know it did!" Miss Hopkins retorted. "And there's plenty more where that one came from, my girl!" She again raised her hand and brought it down with a resounding thwack on my other, vulnerable cheek.

"Owww!" This time I yelled even louder. She was hurting! I tensed myself as I felt her hand leave my tender young bottom. It swung - and crack! I heard the sound of the smack echo around the room.

"Oh, please don't!" I begged her. "Don't spank me, Miss Hopkins! Please!"

Her hand rested on the cheek it had just hit. I felt her fingers close on the fleshy globe, trying to make it wobble. It was no good - my muscles held the cheeks tightly together.

"Very well, then," Miss Hopkins said firmly. "If that's how you're going to behave, Julie ... " And holding me securely in position so that it was impossible for me to do anything except wriggle and struggle in futile little movements, she began to spank me in earnest.

I felt her hand rising and falling in rapid succession, slapping down on my exposed bottom cheeks with vigor. She aimed her blows carefully, making sure that each sweetly pouting mound received an equal share of the spanks.

Six - seven - eight - nine ... My bottom felt pink and angry. I began to yell in earnest as Miss Hopkins remorselessly continued to paddle my soft, smarting cheeks.

"Ow - ouch! That's enough! Please, please! No more - I beg of you!"

Still she flailed at my arse. I could hear her grunting with perverse satisfaction as her hand landed again and again on my poor little bottom. Almost without conscious intention, I slowly allowed my cheeks to slacken. She must have felt the globes start to wobble under the impact of her slaps, but the cruel woman still continued to spank away.

But now her swinging fingers were aiming a little lower - so that they hit me right in the middle of my obediently relaxed crease ... And even, on two or three occasions, on the very end of my peeping quim ...

Something very strange was happening to me, I suddenly realized. At some undefined point in the spanking session, I was actually beginning to enjoy the sensations of having my bare arse slapped and humiliated by the older woman!

I began to lift my buttocks up to receive the blows she was inflicting on them. This action, of course, made my cheeks widen even more and Miss Hopkins didn't miss the opportunity to concentrate the loud, open-handed slaps on my exposed and secret back hole.

At long last the spanking died away and Miss Hopkins merely flicked my wobbling bum-cheeks lightly with the tips of her fingers. In turn, this became a caress ... She was finally just stroking my raised bottom, running her hand possessively and lasciviously all over my preferred arse.

Not content for long with this, she soon started to finger the warm, damp crease - slipping her forefinger intoxicatingly downwards until it touched the round, pursed hole of my back passage.

I buried my face in the cushion, squirming my body in a frenzy of fierce lust, as I felt Miss Hopkins beginning to work her finger delicately into the tight orifice of my arse. Since there was obviously no longer any need for her to hold me down, Miss Hopkins removed her hand from its restraining position on my back and began idly to toy with the flaccid cheeks of my bottom - holding the dear, uptilted globes steadily apart whilst her forefinger gradually imbedded itself in my tiny back recess.

I felt it plunge deeper and deeper into me. She wiggled it from side to side to facilitate the entry, making me grind my hips a little with tense, growing excitement. In it went ...

Without meeting too many difficulties, Miss Hopkins inserted her long, supple forefinger to its hilt and I could feel her remaining fingers join her other hand in stroking and pressing my splayed arsecheeks. She began to work her finger in and out - sliding it gently up my totally exposed bum and then bringing it delicately out again.

In and out it traveled; with each inward stroke her fingernail would play scratchingly with the inner flesh of my rear hole, exploring the hotness and the soft, rubbery sensations of the anal channel. (For I must admit, if I'm to be completely frank, that I had fingered myself in this way on more than a few occasions - and I knew very well the intoxicating delights that could be gained from such manipulations: whether it was being done to you, or whether you were secretly pushing your finger into the forbidden crevice and up into the tight, constraining hole itself.)

Miss Hopkins enjoyed herself to the full - making me lift my bottom up so that she could view my pink, lightly haired slit which peeped from between my parted thighs. Squeezing and pressing my bottom, running her fingers at will all over my newly-spanked cheeks ...

At length she gave me an approving slap on the arse. I felt my buttocks wobble sexily. Then Miss Hopkins said. "All right, Julie darling - now it's time for you to examine me!"

I felt a terrible nervousness steal over me. My tummy was full of butterflies; my teeth were almost chattering as the full implications of her remarks came home to me. I was going to be permitted to do to Miss Hopkins all the things she'd done to me!!

I'd never before, of course, so much as touched another female. And now I was going to have her lovely, mature charms at my complete disposal - to do with them as I wished! Miss Hopkins smiled reassuringly at me. "Don't be nervous, Julie," she told me as she gently turned me over on the settee.

"Just let yourself relax completely - and above all, don't be afraid of me! Be as uninhibited as you like. Ill let you do anything you want ... "

While she was speaking, Miss Hopkins had helped me up and was positioning herself on the settee in exactly the same pose that I'd adopted. She lay full-length, face upwards; her dress still pulled away from her chest - completely exposing those beautiful breasts which stuck up so proudly, the red-tipped cherries hard and glistening.

I knelt down beside her. Miss Hopkins looked across at me, encouragingly, and smiled tenderly. Then her eyes closed softly shut. The filtered light from the table lamp cast mysterious shadows on her face and body, making her appear to be a creature of weird and strange delights: a visitor from another dimension, my fevered, heated brain insisted to me. For she was, indeed, taking me into new dimensions of experience by her willingness to teach me what strange ecstasies could exist in the caressing touches of two females ...

But Miss Hopkins was waiting patiently for me to begin. I reached out with uncertain, trembling hands - scarcely knowing where to touch her first. I let my uncertain fingers fall tentatively on her breasts again. They rose and fell under my palms like thick globes of smooth white cream - feeling as if they would melt back into liquid milk if I pressed them too hard.

I moved them so that they pressed together, each titty rubbing against the other - making a deliciously deep cleavage appear between them. I released them and watched delightedly as they sprang back into shape, shaking lightly and sexily.

Miss Hopkins lay quite passively, her arms down at her side, letting me toy with her bare breasts. I glanced quickly at her face. Her lips were still parted and I could hear the faint little gasps she was making as I ran my fingers across her tautly stretched nipples.

Then I diverted my gaze downwards - to her marvelously shapely legs, their curves accentuated by the tightness of her dress. I put my hand on her hip and stroked it, feeling the generous swell of flesh moving voluptuously under its clothing. Growing bolder and prompted by a mounting, feverish lust, I slid my hand further downwards until my fingers passed her thigh (pausing to fondle the hard clasp of her suspender clip where it drew her silk stockings up tightly towards her hidden regions) and came to rest on the hem of her dress.

Not daring to breathe, I slowly raised it. The material rose steadily, displaying the incredibly sexy sight of her gorgeous milk-white thighs above the top of her stockings. I tugged her dress upwards until it grew too tight to pull up any more. Impatiently, I turned my attention to the buttons running down the front. I hastily unfastened them and pulled the dress off. Throughout this stripping, Miss Hopkins remained completely still - not helping, not hindering me in my efforts to disrobe her.

Finally she was stretched out before me - clad only in her abbreviated panties, stockings and suspender belt. I stared down in wonderment at the thick vee of her quim as it thrust its cheeky way up against the center of her panties. The panties that were meant to conceal her treasure-box, but which, in reality, only served to emphasize the sexiness of the woman's pulsing, hard-mounded slit.

They were so tiny, these panties, that I could see wisps of Miss Hopkin's pubic hairs peeking under the nipped-in elastic. And the deep indent of her navel was, of course, completely bared.

I must have stared at her practically naked charms for several minutes before the urge to touch her returned to me. I took a deep breath and laid my hands softly on her white tummy. The skin was soft and yielding; my fingers sank into the smooth flesh as if it was made of creamy butter.

I stroked her with long caresses, running my hands from her stomach up to her breasts and down again. After a little while, I plucked up enough courage to let my fingers stray to the top of her panties. There, I played nervously with the brief garment, making my hands press down into her abdomen - occasionally brushing slightly against the sleek mound of her mons veneris.

Breathing heavily, I carefully began to unroll Miss Hopkins' panties. I drew them down until the thick bushy hair was visible, moving them slowly and deliberately - savoring every second of the unveiling. Then, unable to stand the delay any longer, I quickly tore them all the way down her legs and threw them carelessly to the floor.

Now her private and secret places were mine to savor! I began by rubbing my fingers into Miss Hopkins' pubic hairs, seeking out the entrance to her well-hidden cunt. At last I felt my fingertips touch the pink wet softness of her slit. With clumsy, awkward fingers, I delved downwards; making a passage for myself - threading my way carefully through the jungle bush of her tangle until the cunt-lips were parted and Miss Hopkins' thick slit opened to my probing caress.

The oily, slick folds of flesh felt so wonderful to my inexperienced fingers! It was so easy for me to work my way into her well-practiced cunt; the hole itself was so wet and supple. I pushed two of my fingers into the giving softness of her cunt-meat, wriggling them around inside her as she'd done when her fingers were playing with me. Miss Hopkins shifted slightly, opening her thighs a little wider for me. I gratefully seized the opportunity to thrust into her as far as I was able to reach - my remaining fingers playing and toying with the sensitive region around her steaming honeypot.

Not more than a few minutes elapsed before I realized that she was starting to come! Her loins twisted and shook under my hand and I increased the tempo of my frigging until my fingers were racing in and out of her itching cunt - making my hand ache!

But the effort was well worth while, if only to feel the stupendous thrill of her soaking flood as it poured out of her quim and creamed my fingers with its hot, fatty emission. I titivated her clitty to make her yield up every atom of spunk, squeezing the long, wriggling fold of red inner flesh with quick, spastic nips.

At last she was finished. I felt the woman's hips relax and untense themselves and her breath slowly returned to its normal rhythm. Gratefully, Miss Hopkins opened her eyes once more. Her hand stretched out and drew me down on the settee beside her. We lay full-length together, our bodies pressing up tightly, my fingers still deeply imbedded in her liquid cunt.

"Let's lay quietly for a few moments, darling," she whispered. "There are so many other things I want you to do to me - and so many lovely things I'd like to do to you ... But first, let's just savor the memory of our love-making."

That was my introduction to Miss Hopkins and to the ecstatic delights of lesbian caressing. We spent the remainder of the evening and the night enjoying further variations, different aspects of sexual exploration. She taught me so much, she instructed me so thoroughly ... And now I was to be her pupil. We would be together for months at a time . ,.

Little did my parents guess when they entrusted Miss Hopkins with my education that this woman had already given me such an intensive series of lessons in the art of cunt-sucking and arse-frigging!"

Here, the soft, even flow of the girl's words faded out. The tape leader moved steadily through the machine and the recorder shut itself off automatically. I sat staring at it for some minutes. My second drink had gone untouched and the ashtray by my side was overflowing with half-smoked cigarette ends.

On the surface, the recording had told me absolutely nothing about Julie Marshall. Apart from the fact that she had a fascinating, sexy voice and that just by hearing her speak my cock had grown hard as a rock.

But everything about the recording was odd. For instance: was it a "real" reminiscence or just a made-up story? And what the hell kind of a relationship did Julie Marshall have with her guardian?

Why would Wendy Parkington have in her possession a recording tape which contained such a blatantly pornographic account of lesbian love-making? Especially a recording made by her own ward.

I finished my whisky and lit yet another cigarette. I lifted the tape off the spool and studied it closely, as if I hoped to get some of the answers from it. None came. I remembered that the bureau bookcase in Wendy Parkington's room had also contained several other interesting-looking boxes. Were they, too, recordings made by Julie Marshall?

Well, if Miss Parkington got her kicks by listening to either real or imaginary sex stories read into a tape recorder by her ward, I could understand why she was willing to pay me so much to get the girl back! That much was clear, anyway.

But it still didn't tell me why my recent and violent visitors were so anxious to persuade me to lay off the case. I crushed my cigarette out. The sky was growing dark and I got up and pulled the curtains shut. I turned the light on and went back to the tape recorder.

Then I remembered that the tape was almost certainly a twin-track recording. I looked at my watch. 7:30 p.m. What the hell, I decided. It had been a busy day and an evening off wouldn't do any harm. Even if the second track of the tape didn't tell me any more than the first, it promised to make easy and stimulating listening.

My cock was still jerking stiffly inside my trousers. I settled myself comfortably again, threaded the tape through the machine onto its original spool, and pressed the "play" button. I was ready for another installment of "Julie's Schooldays"!

Chapter FIVE

The tape curled around the take-up spool for several revolutions in static silence. Then I heard the familiar, confidential tones of Julie Marshall's voice as she began to continue her sexy narrative ...

"Miss Hopkins, as I said before, met me at the station and drove me to the school. Unfortunately, we were unable to do more than exchange a few brief, secret smiles and a meaningful handshake, because Miss Hopkins had another passenger. She was a girl named Stefanie who had traveled down with me on the train, although we'd hardly spoken more than a few words to each other.

Stefanie was also a new girl at the school. She was about the same age as myself, though I had to admit that her figure was rather more mature than mine - despite Miss Hopkins' attentions! But the most remarkable feature about Stefanie was her hair. It was so long that it reached almost to her waist; beautiful blonde tresses that shone like spun gold. My fingers had itched to stroke it all the way ...

I sat in the front seat with Miss Hopkins with Stefanie in the back. We chatted inconsequentially during the short drive, but my Headmistress took care to hint with veiled, secret remarks that she had many new pleasures in store for me once I was properly installed at the school.

She parked the ear and led us to our rooms. They were next door to one another, and as Miss Hopkins ushered us in, she said meaningfully: "I hope that you two girls will become very good friends. The school is quite small, as you know, and we try to specialize in the individual girl - giving her the full benefit of our undivided attention."

"Yes, Miss Hopkins," Stefanie said, demurely. "Well, I'll leave you both to get unpacked now," said Miss Hopkins cheerfully. "I expect you'd both like a wash and an early night after your long journey."

Stefanie disappeared into her room, but before I could follow suit, Miss Hopkins reached out for my arm. "Oh, Julie," she cried. "I'd like to have a word with you first - darling!" She breathed this last word at me passionately just as Stefanie's door closed tightly shut.

She drew me into her arms and pressed me up against her warm, yielding curves. I put my arms around her and held my face up to be kissed. Her lips came down and met mine; our mouths melted into a firm, lingering open-lipped kiss, tongues slipping, slithering together, as we locked in tight and heated embrace.

Miss Hopkins' hands slipped down and cupped my bottom, pressing and fondling the cheeks through the brief, thin material of my school tunic. "MMMmmm!" she gasped breathlessly as we finally broke away from each other. She kept her hands possessively on my arse, pushing the cheeks so that my lower body was jammed tightly against hers.

"It seems such a long time!" Miss Hopkins cried. "I can't tell you how much I've missed you, my sweet. But now, at last, we can be together!" She kissed me quickly but sweetly on the mouth again.

"What do you think of Stefanie?" she asked me, quite suddenly. I looked at her, not quite understanding what she meant. "Don't you think she's a little beauty?" Miss Hopkins continued. "Hasn't she got the most beautiful long hair you've ever seen?"

I felt myself growing quite jealous. "Yes," I admitted reluctantly. "I suppose she has ... "

Miss Hopkins gave my bottom an affectionate squeeze. "Oh, you silly girl!" she cried, breaking into a light laugh. "I do believe you're just the teeniest bit jealous! Come on, admit it! You are!"

I nodded, feeling my face blushing furiously. "I'd hate anyone else to come between us, Miss Hopkins, "I told her. "You mean so much to me ... " I broke off, unable to continue; a lump growing in my throat as I thought of Stefanie (or anyone else) receiving Miss Hopkins' intimate attentions.

My headmistress grew serious. Her face became kindly and thoughtful. She pulled my head onto her shoulder and stroked my hair with gentle, coaxing caresses. Then she began to whisper to me.

"Listen to me, Julie, my darling. You're very young still - you have many things to learn. And, of course - that's what your parents have sent you here for: so that you can understand different ways of life and grow. mature and responsible. But before you can be called an adult, you have to accept certain facts:

"I want you to place yourself entirely in my hands. Do exactly as I say and I promise you won't regret it. Now, regarding Stefanie. She, too, has to be educated; in fact, you're a long, long way ahead of her in many directions -" She paused, meaningfully giving one of my buttocks a gentle pinch.

"And so," she continued. "I want you to help me with Stefanie's instructions. You know how wonderful it was with just the two of us making love together? Well, my darling -" she let her voice drop to a husky, persuasive whisper. "Just imagine what thrills we can have if three of us have a little get-together ... !!"

Already I could feel my heart starting to race. I knew very well what Miss Hopkins was suggesting and it both shocked and thrilled me to the core! I stood there silently, letting the woman stroke my bottom and my hair - allowing her insinuating tone of voice to gradually overcome all my scruples.

When she finally came out into the open and asked me directly if I'd help her to seduce Stefanie, all I could do was nod my head helplessly. It occurred to me at this point that I was completely in Miss Hopkins' power so far as sex was concerned. All she had to do was coax me and I knew I'd have to do anything she desired ...

Now, she began to outline to me what she had in mind for me to do. I had to press my thighs tightly together to stop the itching which had started in my little cunt as soon as Miss Hopkins started to speak. The plan was audacious and daring: but somehow I knew that it was bound to work.

When she'd finished, Miss Hopkins gave my bottom a light slap. "Go into your room now, Julie," she told me. "Unpack and have a bath, then go to work on Stefanie. I'll drop by in -" she looked at her watch - "say another two hours. All right?"

Again I nodded. Something about the woman made it difficult for me to speak when she was near to me. Was it just her magnetism, I wondered? Or did she possess some really hypnotic power that made me feel like a quivering, helpless puppet? I went slowly into my room, closing and locking the door behind me.

I felt emotionally dazed, as if a hurricane had blown through my will-power - scattering my self-control into tiny, insignificant pieces. Perhaps, after it, it was merely my own erotic desires that were making me feel so dispossessed. My barely awakened sex drives, now thrusting themselves upon my senses with terrible, vigorous force - causing me to bend like a frail twig before the onslaught of Miss Hopkins' experienced perversities ...

I started to unpack my suitcase and hang my clothes up in the wardrobe. No matter what was causing my emotional and sexual turmoil, I knew that I was anticipating the evening's games with growing relish and impatience.

About twenty minutes later I was soaping myself luxuriously in the pink coloured bath, lying back in the water so that the delicious-feeling suds completely enveloped my body. Obeying an impulse, I cupped my breasts under the water - feeling the buds sprout immediately to full erect-ness.

Slowly, I massaged them, relishing the sweet and sensual feel of my titties as they were caressed both by my hands and by the swirling, soapy foam. Reluctantly I stood up and reached for a towel. I stepped out of the bath and rubbed myself down with brisk, invigorating strokes.

I sprayed an expensive cologne all over my body, paying particular attention to the pearly pinkness of my cunt and the saucy twin bumps at the entrance to my arse. Then I rubbed briefly under my armpits with a deodorant stick and carefully combed my hair out.

I posed in front of the full-length wardrobe mirror for a few moments, turning this way and that; admiring my curves from every possible angle. I opened my legs to view the deep wound of my quim, holding the fleshy lips apart so the I could peer into the gash. I turned around and looked over my shoulder at my taut, redly glowing bottom (I'd paid special attention to my arse cheeks with the towel because I wanted to make them as pink and flushed as possible).

I touched my toes and peeped between my parted legs, noting how sweetly my buttocks were stretched tautly apart - revealing the intriguing bump of my nutmeg hole.

In short, I inspected my figure as thoroughly as I knew how, and when I finally moved away from the mirror I was satisfied that my young figure presented as pretty a picture as Stefanie's. I next went to my purse and extracted my prize possession: a tiny, brief G-string which fitted snugly and tightly over my still-developing cunt. I fastened the sexy, flimsy thing, running the cord between my legs and drawing it tight against my bottom, jerking it up between the blossoming cheeks. I adjusted it at the front so that it just about covered my mons veneris.

Miss Hopkins had given me the G-string as a parting present - making me promise her that I would bring it to school with me and wear it for her. I went back to the mirror to see myself in it. I couldn't resist doing a few bumps and grinds, placing my hands behind my neck as I'd seen striptease girls do it in some photos I'd seen.

And now I just wanted my dressing gown. I got it out of the wardrobe and slipped my arms through it. The robe was rather a sexless, drab affair, but when I removed it, I considered, the effect would be all the greater. My bare breasts and the cheeky G-string would show up as an exciting contrast to the square and shapeless drape of my wrap.

All ready at last, I slipped out of my room and into the corridor. I tapped lightly at Stefanie's door and waited. "Who's there?" she called. "It's only me - Julie," I replied. "Just a minute."

She opened the door. "Hello, Stefanie," I said. She was wearing a pair of black panties, no stockings, and a brassiere. "Do you mind if I come in for a minute?" I asked. "I feel a bit lonely - this is my first time away from home ... "

Stefanie smiled. "It's mine, too," she said. "Yes, please come in. As we're neighbors, we ought to get to know each other." She stepped aside and I walked into her room.

Her clothes were scattered all over the room in untidy heaps. Steam was coming from the bathroom and I said. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding. You're just going to have a bath, aren't you?"

"Oh, don't worry about me!" Stefanie smiled. "As soon as I got in I just flopped on the bed and went to sleep. But you sit down. I'll only be a little while. Tell you what -" she called over her shoulder, as she disappeared into the bathroom. "You can come in and scrub my back if you don't mind!"

I followed her into the bathroom, unable to resist a little smile. If only Stefanie knew what Miss Hopkins and I were planning for her. And here she was - inviting me to wash her back! That was really making things easy for me!!

Stefanie was fumbling with her brassiere hook. "Here, let me," I said, stepping up behind her. She let her hands drop to her side. "Oh, thanks a lot!" she said. "I always have trouble with that damn thing."

I unhooked her bra and before she could move her hands I was sliding the straps over her lovely shoulders. She let them fall down her arms, but I kept my hands firmly on her. Looking down at her over her shoulder, I saw the webbing of the brassiere cups fall softly away from her breasts. They were certainly whoppers! Much bigger than mine - almost as curry and round as Miss Hopkins' in fact ...

"That's fine," Stefanie murmured, her voice a little uneasy. The girl was about to move away from me, but I increased the pressure of my hands on her sweetly rounded shoulders. Stefanie's body grew tense and she was obviously growing rather embarrassed. "My, you've got a beautiful body!" I said softly. We were reflected in the bathroom mirror and our eyes met briefly - then Stefanie looked quickly away.

"Thanks," she muttered. "Maybe I'd better get into my bath now ... " I gave her shoulders a firm squeeze and released them. Keeping her back to me, Stefanie started to slide her panties down. I kept watching her in the mirror, seeing the tight-fitting knickers being peeled away from her hips - slowly revealing the tuft of blonde hail-around her young cunt.

She stepped out of her panties and lifted her leg up to step into the bath. I said quickly, putting my hands on her waist: "Here, let me help you!" She didn't reply, just continued to get into the water, and I let my hands slip down - as if it were a pure accident - so that they ran across the sleek, full cheeks of her bottom. Her arse was slightly bent over at the point of contact and my fingers managed to get a lovely feel of the girl's thrusting cheeks before Stefanie turned and began to lower her body into the bath.

She pretended to ignore the audacious grope of my hand and began to soap herself with the sponge. Her breasts rested on top of the water, buoyed up by the caressing heat of the suds; her nipples rising automatically to ripe fullness as they lapped against the sensuous, rippling water.

I drew the bathroom stool up and settled myself on it, sitting close to Stefanie. "Have you met Miss Hopkins before?" I asked her. "She's quite an old friend of our family, you know."

Stefanie shook her head. "No, I hadn't seen her before today. I think I'm going to get on well with her, though. She seems a very nice woman."

"Oh, she is!" I cried - perhaps a little too enthusiastically, for Stefanie gave me rather an odd glance. " I mean, she's a very good teacher," I added. Then I decided to change the subject and bring our conversation closer to its real aim - which was, of course, Stefanie's seduction.

"I hope you don't mind my saying so," I began. "But you really do have a lovely figure. I've never seen a girl of your age so well developed!" Stefanie kept her eyes averted but I could tell that she was pleased with the compliment. I grew a little bolder. "Your breasts are so curvy - so wonderfully large!" I told her. "Honestly, I just can't take my eyes off them - they're super!"

The girl looked down at them proudly. "Do you really think so?" she asked, coquettishly. "I suppose I am rather well-developed!" She began to wash them lovingly, soaping them all over with her hands until the soft globes were almost hidden with the lather.

"Mmmm, I should say you are!" I commented, leaning forward until my face was only a few inches away from them. Stefanie held her breasts in her hands, lifting them and rubbing the heavy swells slowly. "I don't suppose ... " I started to say, then let my voice fade away.

Stefanie glanced up. I lowered my eyes in pretended confusion. "What did you say?" she asked. "Oh, nothing!" I replied. "I was just going to ask you if I could do something ... But I'd better not!" Stefanie seemed intrigued - as I'd hoped she would be. She continued to soap her breasts and caress them with her wet fingers. "Go on," she urged. "Tell me what you were going to say."

"Oh, well ... if you must know -" I kept my eyes down and spoke slowly and hesitatingly. "I was going to ask if I could help you wash them - your breasts, I mean. But it was very naughty of me to even think such a thing - let alone mention it to you."

Stefanie smiled bashfully. "I don't mind," she said in a low, husky voice. And I knew that I'd got over the first hurdle. It was just a matter of not rushing her along too quickly, not making her nervous and jumpy. "You can feel them if you want to," she offered. "After all, we're both girls, aren't we? We've got no secrets from each other."

I raised my eyes and smiled at her. Then I slowly moved my hands until they held in their grasp the wondrously soft and ample breasts, all soapy and wet from their lathering. I gently squeezed them all over, lifting them up and letting them lay heavily in my cupped hands.

"They're really terrific," I said - and I meant every word. Stefanie's breasts were smooth and very firm-fleshed; they felt as sexy to my touch as Miss Hopkins' and I took my time about fondling them, savoring the wet, slippery girl-flesh which I was rubbing slowly between my fingers.

Stefanie's eyes were cast down, watching her titties as I caressed and massaged them for her. She started to breathe very heavily and I was encouraged by her obviously growing excitement to start rubbing my fingertips over the pink petals of her shapely nipples. Each hard little flower felt excitingly alive as my fingers closed idly over them. I carefully washed the soap away so that I could see them clearer, cupping my hands and pouring the warm, scented water over Stefanie's generous and delightful titties.

Then I continued to rub them, this tune daring to squeeze her breasts rather more roughly; turning them over and over in my hands and taking good care to pay special attention to her rosy, enlarged nipples.

"I think you'd better stop now!" Stefanie said suddenly. Her voice was breathless and hoarse.

"Oh, Stefanie!" I cried. "Please don't say that! Let me play with your lovely titties just a little bit longer!" I looked pleadingly up at the girl. She was biting at her lower lip and her eyes were hot and glazed.

I gave her nipples an especially firm tweak, pinching them audaciously between my thumb and forefinger. I saw Stefanie squirm helplessly, part of her wanting to tell me to stop - but her awakened desires loathe to give the order.

"No, really Julie!" she protested. "You're going too far! Oh!! ... Oh, you mustn't!"

I had just started to turn her erect cherries fiercely round and round, twisting them so that they were distended as far out from her lovely breasts as they would stretch. I bent my face closer to hers. "Oh, Stefanie!" I whispered. "You must let me wash you properly. Come on, don't be a spoil sport! I promise I'll do it properly!"

The poor girl was fighting to regain her self-control. I could see that her senses were locked in terrible conflict between giving in to my unnatural importunings and resisting them. I continued to hold and press her breasts, sliding my fingers as sexily as I knew how all over the thrusting, soft melons.

Then, as if she were sleep-walking and unable to direct her limbs, Stefanie slowly nodded her head. "All right!" she gasped. "I'll let you! But you must promise not to tell anyone! You won't, will you?"

"Of course I won't say anything!" I promised her. "Let me slip my dressing gown off. I'll get into the bath with you - it'll be easier that way."

I stood up from the chair, reluctantly letting go of the girl's thrilling tits. I saw Stefanie's eyes following me as I pushed the chair out of the way and began to unfasten my robe. I slipped it off as seductively as I could and was rewarded with a sharp, appreciative gasp as Stefanie saw my nudity covered only by the little G-string.

"Gosh!" she exclaimed. "That's very sexy!" I posed prettily for her. "Where on earth did you get that from? You've got a nerve to wear something like that at school!"

I let my fingers rest on the thin cord which kept the vee-shaped, scanty garment in position. Caressly, I tugged it up even tighter - feeling the string bite sexily into my already damp fanny. Oh," I said. "Haven't you seen these before? I've got lots of them!" I lifted my leg to get into the bath, making sure that Stefanie got a generous view of the nipped-in crease between my legs. Then I swung my other leg over and slowly settled myself in the bath, sitting opposite Stefanie - our knees drawn up and pressing tightly together.

I reached out for the sponge and without further ado, I began to soap Stefanie's thighs. She sat in silence, letting me do as I liked with her. I carefully rubbed the sponge up and down her legs, paying extra special care to the inside of her lovely thighs.

With my other hand I held one of her legs apart, enabling me to steal the sponge up to the very entrance of her underwater slit. I rubbed it over her genitals, then gradually let the sponge float away between my fingers until I was fingering the splayed cunt-lips with my bare hand.

My fingers plucked gently at the parted lips until, as if by pure chance, they penetrated the opening and began to work playfully at the girl's succulent and open quim. I was, of course, leaning forward and Stefanie's hands crept slowly up without my noticing them at first. Then I felt them close over my own breasts which were dipping slightly into the bath water.

With both hands, she took my titties between her fingers and began to copy my earlier actions; squeezing, turning and fondling my down-hanging globes, shaping them like plasticine; molding them, shaping them ...

Our love-play rapidly grew more abandoned and I decided not to wait a minute longer before I inserted my fingers deeply into Stefanie's hot and silky cunt. Under the water, the feel of the girl's rubbery inner lips was even more exciting. I pushed two of my fingers rudely into her, their passage facilitated by the soapy, swirling liquid.

Stefanie gripped my tits more tightly and I felt her fingertips seize my aching nipples. She started to pinch them - but to my surprise and intense delight, Stefanie nipped my bubs with very rapid opening and closing motions of her fingers so that my cherries were subjected to a constant renewal of fast and fierce pinches.

I wiggled my two fingers inside her cunt, thrusting them firmly up into the tight red channel, frigging freely. But this position wasn't really the most satisfactory one from the point of view of really getting at one another's intimate parts and I soon decided that the time was ripe to suggest a new one.

"Stefanie," I said softly. "Lets get more comfortable, shall we? I know - you turn round and kneel down with your back to me. Then I can wash your bottom and give your cunty a proper feel ... "

Blushing furiously, the girl obeyed. Soon she was in the position I'd suggested; her round and curvy buttocks sticking up in a defenseless, impudent way just out of the water. I fastened my fingers greedily on them, holding the white, sleek cheeks with firm hands.

I caressed her bum carefully, parting the luscious globes so that I could have an intimate look at the girl's rear hole. Stefanie permitted this blatant intrusion of her privacy without so much as a whimper. She remained perfectly still, letting me inspect her delightful arse at my leisure.

I placed a finger on her pert and totally revealed anus and started to prod at the tiny, tight entrance. With a little effort and some patient pushing, I felt my finger starting to slip into her arsehole. In it went ... and I felt the constricting arse-meat close tightly over my finger, the hot flesh feeling supple and secretly alive ...

My thumb slipped down a few centimeters until it found the steaming wider hole of Stefanie's cunt. I managed to get it a fair way inside the sweet little orifice, tickling and teasing just beyond the splayed, thick lips.

I played with Stefanie's super arse for long minutes. Then I decided it was time we got out of the bath and began to make love properly. Without saying a word, I slowly stood up and helped Stefanie to climb over the side. As soon as our feet touched the floor, I drew her close to me - slipping my arms tightly around her waist and pulling her body up against mine.

Our bare, naked breasts touched and merged together and I began to sway my body against Stefanie's so that our nipples brushed seductively, electrically. I could feel my friend's warm breath on mine and I began to ache for the sensation of her lips melting on mine in a passionate, wet kiss ...

I bent my mouth towards hers, but Stefanie drew back slightly, twisting her face away. "What's the matter, Stefanie?" I whispered. "I only want to give you a little kiss!"

She was trembling against me, her lovely wet body shaking, her thighs - pressed up closely into mine - were twitching in tiny, spasmodic jerks. "It's wrong!" she mumbled. "Oh, Julie - what we're doing to each other ... It's so wrong!"

I stroked along her bare back soothingly. "Of course it isn't!" told her gently. "We're only getting to know each other properly. Don't tell me you've never kissed another girl before - or seen a girl in the same room as yourself in the nude!"

"I haven't" Stefanie protested. "At least, not like this - not in the way you mean! We mustn't go on with it. Please, let's stop now," she implored me. "Go away and we'll both forget what's happened this evening -"

"Not until you've kissed me," I insisted firmly, "Oh, come on, Stefanie - we're not children! All I want is one tiny little kiss. You're not going to deny me that, now are you?"

She turned her face back towards me. I could see her weakening, could see her beautiful eyes widen in frightened indecision. "All right," she said finally. "But just a very quick kiss - nothing more! You promise?"

"I promise," I said. And I lifted one hand, put it firmly on the back of her head and drew her mouth against mine. I put my lips lovingly on hers, pressing tenderly and sweetly into her mouth. Stefanie tried to kiss me quickly and move her lips away, but I kept my hand steady on the back of her head and forced her to keep her mouth still while I kissed her lips soundly and passionately.

She resisted forcibly at first, but as I reached down and cupped one of her lovely buttocks and renewed my caressing of the soft, damp cheek, Stefanie slowly yielded once more and made no more than a token show of resistance when I began to poke my inquisitive tongue against her front teeth.

I licked slowly and sensually along the upper ridge of her gums, then darted my tongue between her teeth as they parted a fraction. I quickly found her own moist tongue and lapped at it, making our tongues slither together in a voluptuous, prolonged French kiss.

Stefanie suddenly moaned into my mouth and, shedding all her prudishness and misgivings, responded with equal passion, throwing her arms around my back and squashing my body heatedly against her own.

We stood there, kissing and hugging each other. Stefanie was biting at my lips, making strange gurgling sounds in her throat. Pier hands found my bottom and she sank her nails into wobbly globes, searing my flesh in her new-found ecstasy.

I started to maneuver her towards the bed, guiding her there with meaningful pressure on her buttocks. We finally sprawled on the disheveled sheets with me stretched out on top of Stefanie.

We were still kissing - our lips had not left each other's mouths. Our cunts rubbed furiously together pressing with rhythmic up and down motions as our pubic hair intermingled. Stefanie's hands began to fumble with the string of my only garment. Impatiently, she ripped it away - the cord snapped and my G-string fell away from my loins.

She reached under me and roughly jammed her fingers against my open-lipped cunt. One finger commenced a wild frigging movement on my clitty, whilst the others searched desperately for the entrance to my already spunky hole.

I broke away from Stefanie's mouth. Her cheeks were flushed, her long, long hair completely disarrayed. "Wait a second," I said urgently. "I've got a better idea!" She looked at me, startled, as I got up from her heated body and then lowered myself again - only this time in the sixty-nine position, with my knees on either side of her head and my face dipped down towards her crotch.

I put my hands on her thighs and held them wide apart. Then I bent my mouth to Stefanie's wide open cunt, bringing my lips into feverish contact with the fleshy folds of her girlish cunt-slit.

At the same time, I lowered my haunches onto Stefanie's face. She held my bottom, easing me down until my own totally exposed quim met her mouth. I felt her lips crash up against my cunt-lips and the next second a jolt of pure, ecstatic electricity surged through my whole body as Stefanie's tongue plunged boldly into the very center of my sex.

I lifted the flaps of her cunt, pulling the wide, fleshy lips away so that my own tongue could more easily penetrate her. Together, we licked and sucked at each other's darling holes, forgetting where we were and losing all sense of time and space in our lascivious lesbian game.

The sound of the door being suddenly thrown open broke like a thunderbolt into our reverie.

"My God! What on earth do you girls think you're doing?" cried the horrified voice of none other than Miss Hopkins. She walked quickly into the room, an expression of revulsion spreading over her face. We scrambled swiftly away from each other and sat shame-faced on the bed.

"This is terrible - terrible!" she said. "I can hardly believe my eyes. To think that you girls have been indulging in such a awful sin together!" Stefanie began to cry softly, her body trembling with suppressed sobs.

"I'm sorry, Miss Hopkins," she whimpered. "I don't know what came over me - really I don't! We both got carried away. We didn't realize what we were doing!"

"A likely story!" Miss Hopkins snorted. "You can't fob me off with an excuse as feeble as that, you know!" Her voice took on a air of outraged authority. "You'll both have to be punished for this dreadful misdemeanor! Come along - both of you! Up on your feet!"

She made us stand up and, while Stefanie was staring down at the floor, her hands in front of her - covering her quilted pussy - Miss Hopkins gave me a conspiratorial wink. I smiled quickly back at her. Everything was going absolutely according to plan.

"Right! You first, Stefanie," Miss Hopkins ordered. "Over here with you -." She sat herself in a chair, caught Stefanie by her wrist and forced the girl to bend over her knee. I watched, intrigued, as the girl's plump buttocks once more wobbled delightfully upwards. Miss Hopkins placed her hand firmly on Stefanie's back, holding the girl immovably in position. She paused to hitch her skirt up a little higher, and from my angle of vision I could plainly see the tops of her stockings and the sexily glinting clasp of her suspenders. She kept her thighs well parted so that Stefanie could keep her balance on Miss Hopkins' lap.

Then our headmistress raised her hand for the first slap. I licked my lips in anticipation. The hand came down smartly across Stefanie's white arsecheeks and the sound of the heavy contact cracked through the room like a rifle shot.

In a steady, unhurried rhythm, Miss Hopkins treated the poor, helpless Stefanie to a resounding spanking session; laying into the naked orbs of her wobbling buttocks with patient, smarting strokes. Soon, I could see that my friend's bottom was covered with red marks from Miss Hopkins' fingers and palm.

"Ow, owww!" the girl cried as her tender bum-flesh began to sting from the repeated action of the headmistress's hand. "Oh, help me, someone! Please - no more, Miss Hopkins, I beg of you!"

Thwack, thwack, slap!! The darling bum was glowing an attractive pink as Miss Hopkins took special care to give each inch of Stefanie's pouting, uptilted arse its quota of spanking attention.

"Oh, Julie!" Stefanie yelled. "Tell her to stop it! Please! Ouch - ow! Julie - PLEASE MAKE HER STOP HITTING ME!!"

As I edged my way slowly towards the couple Stefanie saw me out of the corner of her eye and kept pleading with me to intercede for her. The girl had already received at least a dozen hard slaps and her eyes were misting up with unshed tears.

"I think she's had enough, Miss Hopkins!" I interrupted tentatively. Miss Hopkins glared at me. "How dare you!" she cried. "She's had enough when I say so, not when you tell me she has!"

Stefanie's eyes met mine imploringly. The woman was continuing to spank her, accompanying each contact of her hand with the girl's bare cheeks with grim gasps of satisfaction. "Stefanie - we don't have to stand for this!" I suddenly shouted. "There's two of us. Why should we let her give us a good spanking! Let's show her who's the boss!!"

And, fitting my actions to my words, I began to pull at Miss Hopkins' amiss. Carried away by my rousing speech, and probably anxious to do anything to avoid further painful punishment, Stefanie twisted round on Miss Hop-pins' lap and together we managed to drag her off the chair.

All three of us fell to the carpet, sprawling heedlessly in a delightful mix-up of bare limbs and twisting female bodies. Miss Hopkins (naturally!) didn't put up too much of a fight, and Stefanie and I soon had her pinned helplessly beneath us. Stefanie sat heavily on her back, holding her wrists in a tight grip, whilst I knelt astride her thighs.

Miss Hopkins' skirt had, of course, been severely displaced by our tussle and it was now rucked up revealingly around her waist, Her ample bottom, sleekly encased in frilly bikini panties, was completely visible.

"Let's strip her!" I suggested to Stefanie. "Take all her clothes off and see what she looks like when she's naked!" Totally under my spell, Stefanie began immediately to tear Miss Hopkins' blouse off. The material ripped and shredded easily in her hands, the silk garment soon falling in tatters. I watched as Stefanie yanked the headmistress's brassiere off, jerking the hook roughly away from its webbing'.

She pulled the bra out from under Miss Hopkins' prostrate body. "Let's look at her titties!" Stefanie gasped urgently. Her eyes were alight with passion once more, and I nodded swift agreement. We rolled the woman over and Stefanie settled herself on the floor behind her head, holding Miss Hopkins' hands pinned firmly to the ground.

I adopted a position sitting on the helpless woman's knees - leaning forward so that my hands rested on her hips. Stefanie looked down from her upside-down-position at Miss Hopkins' large and faintly swinging breasts. "My, they are whoppers!" she admitted, grudgingly. "You've certainly got a pair of beauties, Miss Hopkins!"

My secret confidante pretended to splutter and gurgle with well-simulated rage and embarrassment. "You just -wait - you terrible, terrible creatures! she foamed. "You'll never get away with this outrage! I shall make an example of you - I'll, I'll -"

Her words faded away as I slid my hands up her body and put them firmly over those temptingly round melons. I squeezed them. Stefanie looked on, approvingly. "Give them a good pinching!" she told me. "We might as well get hung for a sheep ... "

I smiled up at her and then began to revolve Miss Hopkins' lovely curvy tits, again sinking my fingers into the warm and fleshy globes - the creamy breasts I already knew so well! Then Stefanie lifted her knees onto Miss Hopkins' hands, thus releasing her fingers for more interesting actions.

Her fingers closed over mine and together we continued to stroke and knead the woman's firm, upstanding tits. "Let's have one each!" I suggested, and released one of Miss Hopkins' breasts. So, using both our hands, we played to our hearts' content with our tutor's supple, milky mounds; pushing the twin peaks tightly together, thrusting them as wide apart as they would go - seeing who could pull the nipple up the highest ...

Soon, my eyes wandered down again to Miss Hopkins' loins. The cheekily tight pull of her clinging panties against the thrustful swell of her clitoris made my fingers itch to be delving once more into the oily, unending slit of the woman's cunt.

Stefanie watched me closely as I let Miss Hopkins' breasts go. (It wobbled and quivered like a mound of pink jelly, the big, bulging nipple erect with the promise of rich, life-giving milk). But my hands were going towards an even more exciting region of the woman's body: her private, secret places - usually well-hidden beneath skirt, slip and panties, but now as easily accessible to me as if she were already naked (thanks to the weight of our bodies rendering her completely helpless).

My fingers closed over Miss Hopkins' pantietop and I slowly began to slide them downwards over her hips. Stefanie looked on, spellbound, her hands still firmly grasping the imprisoned breast, as I revealed to her the thickly swollen vee, covered by a disorderly tangle of bushy hairs.

I pulled the woman's panties down as far as her knees. Then my hands stole up again - this time to seek a path through her pubic forest. I carefully smoothed the silky hair to one side and fumbled the large, puffy lips open. The red gash opened up before me and I immediately put my fingers into the woman's gaping slit, rubbing up and down the tender, terribly raw inner lips until my pushing digit at last found the gluey hole itself.

I drove into it, thrusting my finger up into her to its limit. Stefanie's eyes were wide with excitement. She leaned forwards across Miss Hopkins' body to peer as closely as she could at my finger as it drove in and out of the woman's steaming cunt.

She didn't seem to realize that her action had lifted her knees away from Miss Hopkins' hands: if the situation had been as "real" as she imagined it to be, the woman would soon have got to her feet and gained the better of us! However ...

"Gosh, Julie!" she exclaimed. "That really looks sexy. Do you think you can get another finger in, though? I'd like to see you frig her properly!"

"I've got a better idea," I replied, without looking up. "You lay across her and put your own finger in at the same time as mine!"

Stefanie licked her lips quickly. "Could I?" she breathed. "Oh, Julie - I'd like to do that so much!"

Breathing sharply, the girl slowly lowered her naked figure down over Miss Hopkins'. Her lithe breasts flattened themselves into our headmistress's tummy, the nipples poking hotly into the woman's bare midriff. Then her hand closed over Miss Hopkins' bushy mound and her forefinger began to work its way into the sleek, fatty lips - alongside mine!

"Oh, this feels marvelous!" Stefanie exclaimed. Our fingers were pressed tightly together inside Miss Hopkins deep, hot quim and we rubbed them with alternate strokes into the tight hole, so that one or other of our fingertips was always rammed fully into the yielding, pursing tunnel.

Almost blindly, Stefanie lifted her face up to mine to be kissed. Our lips again met in a warm, thrilling liquid embrace - pink, girl-tongues sliding together in watery, erotic contact.

"Mmmmm!" Stefanie moaned into my mouth. "What a silly I was before!" She sucked my lower lip sexily into her mouth and nibbled softly at it with her sharp young teeth. "Oh, my cunt is getting so wet!" she went on, her voice muffled and blurred by the way her sweet, full lips were pressing up against mine. "It almost feels as if you were kissing and sucking it again, you naughty girl!"

Then I felt her stiffen. "Oh, Julie!" she whispered tensely. "My cunt is being kissed - I can feel a tongue poking into it!! Oh! Oh! Julie - Miss Hopkins is sucking me off!!!"

I could hardly resist a smile at Stefanie's cry of outraged innocence. There she was- busily ramming her finger up Miss Hopkins' cunt, and showing surprise at the woman returning the compliment by taking advantage of the girl's blatantly displayed quim-lips that were poised so preciously right by her mouth!

"That's all right, darling!" I told her. "Why don't you just relax and enjoy it. You'll find that Miss Hopkins is very expert at kissing girls' dickies!!"

"Oh, no!" Stefanie exclaimed in horror. "I can see it all now! You both planned this! You deliberately enticed me! Oh, Julie, how could you do such a thing to me?"

She tried to struggle to her feet, but Miss Hopkins, of course, was holding her thighs very securely. The woman kept Stefanie firmly in the position she wanted - not letting her yawning cunt-lips escape the passionate lesbian tonguing to which she was avidly subjecting them.

Gradually, Stefanie's struggles grew less and less violent. And I noted with amusement that not once during her protestations had Stefanie so much as attempted to withdraw her finger from Miss Hopkins' succulent pleasure-pot!

"There, now," I soothed her gently. "Don't be so high and mighty, Stefanie darling. Let's enjoy ourselves, shall we? Come on - you hold Miss Hopkins' quimmy open while I kiss it ... There, that's right!" Stefanie had pulled her finger out with a loud, plopping sound and she took hold of the woman's cunt-lips with both hands, drawing the skin-flaps aside so that I could put my mouth right up tight against the innermost flesh.

While Stefanie watched closely, and was herself receiving an identical treatment from Miss Hopkins' busily working mouth, I worked my tongue deeply into the pungent, already very moist slit. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Stefanie beginning to writhe voluptuously on our headmistress's body. She twisted her hips sexily, grinding her wide-apart crack more firmly than ever into Miss Hopkins' more than eager mouth.

I reached my hands up and drew Stefanie's breasts forward. I squeezed them tightly, once more reveling in the indescribable softness of the glossy red-tipped beauties. My nose rubbed up and down Miss Hopkins' prominent clitoris, and I deliberately shook my head gently from side to side so that it stimulated the sensitive protuberance even more.

"Oh, Julie!" Stefanie gasped. Her eyes were shut and her head lolled helplessly as Miss Hopkins' worked her skillfully up into a frenzy of sexual excitement. "I think I'm going to come! Can I? Is it all right for me to spunk it all into Miss Hopkins' mouth?"

The poor girl was delirious in her ecstasy! I pinched her nipples cruelly - tightening my fingers around the rosy buds until they nearly crushed in my furiously clenching squeeze. "Come, Stefanie!" I urged her. "All of it! Make it all come - don't hold anything back!"

With a spasmodic, spastic shaking of her whole body, Stefanie shook and shuddered to her climax. Her mouth again closed over mine in a frenzied kiss as she released her supply of white, frothy cream into Miss Hopkins' open and more-than-ready mouth ...

At almost the same instant, I felt the woman urging her splayed cunt furiously against my own mouth. Miss Hopkins pumped herself with quick, violent drives that increased in tempo until they became a wild, utterly abandoned fucking rhythm. And then I heard her muffled, indistinct groans as her spunk suddenly shot into my eager mouth, dribbling onto my lips and trickling down my chin ...

When I judged that Miss Hopkins had spent the last drops of her orgasm, I gradually removed my mouth from her soaking, strong-smelling cunt. Stefanie rolled lazily off the woman's body and they both lay stretched out in sweet and tranquil fulfillment.

But I could still feel that mounting itch in my own unsatisfied quim. I looked at Stefanie and Miss Hopkins in irritation. Thanks mostly to my efforts, they'd both enjoyed themselves thoroughly. And now they were half-asleep, breathing with relaxed, even rhythms that gave evidence of their mutual satisfaction.

I vowed that directly they'd both recovered their ability to participate actively in our sex games, I'd be the one who received the full brunt of their attentions! Meanwhile, I waited impatiently for them to open their eyes ... "

This was the point at which the other side of the tape ran out. I was sitting there with the biggest erection I could remember having for quite a long time. Christ, I thought, if I had Julie with me right now I'd give her the full brunt of my attention!

I had to admit that hearing the second side of the tape recording had brought me no nearer to an understanding of what the underlying subtleties of the case were. Excepting that it had reinforced my conviction that something pretty damn odd was going on between Julie and Miss Parkington.

If a young kid like Julie Marshall made such detailed and sexy "confessions" of her lesbian love-life for Miss Parkington's bedtime listening, then there was certainly the smell of corruption in the air.

No wonder the girl wanted to get away from the influence of her guardian, if the woman forced her to recount such lurid episodes into a tape machine. Not that this would make any difference to my job, I warned myself. I smelt the faint tang of conscience in the air. This called for another drink: pangs of guilt had to be drowned with the hard, lulling medicine of good whiskey.

I poured myself a good dose and downed it quickly. Nope, I repeated. I had a job to do. And even if it turned out to be slightly more distasteful than my usual divorce cases, that was no reason to get squeamish.

Prentice, I told myself sternly. You're on to a good thing here: �300 for a fetch-and-carry job. Don't louse it up by getting concerned over a girl who may or may not be under the evil influence of her guardian.

I ran my tongue over the roof of my mouth, tasting the lingering traces of the whiskey. I felt tense and uneasy. I was about to pour myself yet another shot when I realized that this had nothing to do with my faint pricks of conscience over Julie Marshall. Stupid, I told myself. What was causing this tension was simply and purely the intense and almost painful state of sexual excitement which the girl's tape had produced in me.

I rubbed my cock pensively. Maybe it would be a good idea after all to pay a visit to Hampstead tonight. If Julie's sexual appetites extended to the male sex as well as her own, I might be able to combine my business with a little pleasure. Something that very rarely happened in my job. (Today's events, as I think I mentioned before, were - strangely? - out of the ordinary.

I consulted my watch. Nine o'clock. Why not? I asked myself. I didn't answer, so I reached for my raincoat, picked up my car keys and doused the lights. Before leaving, I pocketed the Luger. If Julie's "friends" were hanging around her tonight they'd be better prepared than they had been this afternoon.

Chapter SIX

I drove quickly through London's twilight, keeping the windscreen wipers going all the time. A steady drizzle was falling which was more of a nuisance than a heavy downpour. It took me three quarters of an hour to reach Hampstead.

I stopped in a side street and re-checked the address Miss Parkington had given me. Then I looked it up on my road map. The street was in one of the more expensive sections of the district, though you couldn't call any part of Hampstead really cheap to live in.

The house was a large, semi-detached affair. Ivy clung to its walls and the front garden was overgrown with weeds and straggling, untidy plants. I put my finger on the bell and kept it there for about fifteen seconds. Footsteps sounded in the hall and a light was switched on. A shadow appeared on the glass panel of the door, then it swung open.

A pretty, auburn-haired girl stood there, her brown eyes looking me over disdainfully. She wore a white mini-skirt with what I judged to be flesh-coloured tights underneath. Although she only looked about 19, her breasts jutted out pointedly and firmly from beneath a tight woolen sweater. There was a curious depth to her eyes, as if they'd already seen too much of the world and had grown cynical and blas� before her time.

"Yes - what do you want?" she asked, after waiting a few moments for me to speak. She kept pulling at her lower lip with her teeth and then releasing it. The action fascinated me and I watched her doing it in silence for a while. The she said: "What - do - you - want?" She spaced the words deliberately, impatiently.

"Are you Julie Marshall?" I asked her, and I waited while she bit her lip again before replying.

Instead of answering, she threw a question at me. "Who are you?"

"I'm somebody who's looking for Julie Marshall," I said. "Is that your name?"

"I don't think I know you - and I don't think I want to." she said. And started to close the door in my face. I stepped forward and put my foot in the way. I braced my knee steadily against the door and she stopped trying to shut it.

"Look," she said. "I don't know you and I don't know what you want. Please leave me alone."

I got out the photo of her which Miss Parkington had given me and handed it to her. "That's you, isn't it?" It was more of a statement than a question, because the girl was clearly Julie Marshall.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe it is. So what?"

"My car's outside, Julie," I told her. "A Miss Wendy Parkington hired me to take you back to her. I'm a private investigator."

She got angry very quickly. One moment her face was detached; irritated but not terribly concerned. The next, it lit up with a sudden, animal-like fury. "You can go to hell!" she shouted at me. "I'm not going back to that bitch! And you can't make me!"

I reached out swiftly and grabbed her by the arm. My fingers sank into the soft, fleshy muscle and I let them bite into her roughly. I looked over my shoulder quickly. She had shouted at the top of her voice and I was afraid someone would start to investigate the noise. I bundled her back into the house and shut the door.

She tried to fight me - kicking at my legs and lifting her free hand up to scratch me. I blocked her easily and held her arms to her side. "I thought it mightn't be necessary," I said regretfully. "To use force, I mean. Look, Julie. I've got a job to do and some money to earn and I'm taking you back to your guardian no matter what you do. Why not make it easy on yourself?"

She suddenly stopped struggling and looked at me incredulously. "My guardian? Did you say my guardian?" she asked. Then she broke into a high-pitched, very brief laugh. "She's not my guardian, you stupid bastard! Christ, is that what she told you?"

"Lady, it doesn't matter to me if she's your grandmother or your keeper," I said. "All I'm concerned with is getting you back to her. That's what she's paying me for."

She was staring at me, naked hate in her eyes. "Oh, it's a pity they were so bloody careless," she said suddenly. "They should have worked you over properly - like I told them to!"

"Your friends? Yeah - that would have been better. They should have taken the tape as well."

"The tape?" Julie's eyes were very busy. They flickered over my face so rapidly I could almost see the thoughts adding up like a computer behind them. "What do you mean - the tape?"

I smiled at her. I was still keeping a very tight hold on her arms. "I mean your schoolgirl reminisces, Julie." I said. "They made very - ah, stimulating listening!"

The colour seemed to fade out of her cheeks. "I see," she said quietly. "Did she give it to you?" Before I could answer, she broke clown; her body shook with pent-up sobs and tears streaked down her lovely face, smudging her make-up. "Did she give you the movies, too?" she shrilled at me. "And the photos - the obscene, dirty, filthy photos!!!"

I waited until her crying subsided. "No," I told her. "She didn't give me anything. I took the tape out of the bureau - just out of curiosity."

The girl glared up at me. Then her lips started to quiver again and before I knew what she was going to do, she flung herself into my arms - her head burying itself on my shoulder.

"Oh, it's been terrible!" she cried. "It's been so terrible! Please - please don't take me back to her! I'll go crazy, I know I will! You don't know the things she makes me do -"

Here it comes, I told myself ruefully. The tug-of-war between making an easy living and wanting to act as knight-errant. I had already guessed most of what the girl was going to tell me and had more than half convinced myself that it didn't make the slightest difference to what I was going to do. But could I hold out against my few remaining scruples when I was face to face with corrupted innocence itself? I prepared to harden my already well-iced heart as Julie began, in between sobs, to tell me what had happened between herself and Wendy Parking-ton.

"Listen to me!" she begged. "Let me explain why she wants me back so badly. When I was seventeen she picked me up in a coffee bar in London - in the West End. I'd only arrived a few days before, from up north. I was lonely and miserable, I didn't have any friends. Wendy talked to me, befriended me, made me come home with her.

"She played records, cooked dinner for me. She seemed to know so much about the arts, about life ... I was so thrilled that she'd taken in interest in me - me, a nobody! We went out together several times. Wendy took me to see films, plays, concerts. She educated me - introduced me to the finer things of life."

Julie's voice dropped to a whisper and I had some difficulty making out her words. "And then, when she asked me to stay with her one night and sleep in the same bed ... I agreed. Oh, I'm not going to pretend that I was innocent, that I didn't know what was probably going to happen ...

"But I was attracted to her. I can't deny it - I was very, very fond of her." Julie sobbed and I watched another tear drip in fits and starts down her cheek. I let go one of her hands arid she brushed it away.

"She made love to me, of course." Julie looked up into my eyes. She held them in a long, frank stare. "And the next night the same thing happened. And the night afterwards. For a whole week I slept with her and she taught me how to make love in a hundred exciting ways.

"Then, very slowly, very gradually, she began to make suggestions to me. I didn't want to carry them out at first; they seemed wrong, unnecessary somehow. But I was intrigued and I did what she wanted me to do."

The girl was silent for some minutes. "What sort of suggestions were they?" I prompted her.

Julie dropped her eyes again. "Don't pretend you can't guess," she said. "Posing for photographs, for one thing. Only they weren't just nude shots of me. Some of them were, but mostly Wendy wanted to be in them with me. She had some sort of gadget rigged up so that she could line the shot up and then have time to get in the picture herself before the flash went.

"She made me pose in every possible position. Wearing dildos, sucking her ... And she'd design weird costumes for me to wear in them. Leather, plastic ... I didn't want to do it, but she insisted. And she got very nasty with me whenever I protested too much so I always wound up obeying her.

"Gradually, I became as enthusiastic as she was about the bizarre costumes. I even designed some myself ... And she got bolder. She'd written some pornographic stories and made me read them into a tape recorder. She bought a movie camera and flash equipment and made kinky films of me in my costumes.

"And one day she asked me if I'd mind too much if a friend of hers took some movies of the two of us together. I was horrified - I said that was something I'd never agree to. She insisted. And when I still refused to even consider doing it, she threatened to let her lesbian friends hear the tapes I'd recorded and watch the movies she'd made of me.

"She hinted that she'd also invite some men friends around one night and they'd all have a wonderful time watching the films and passing the photos around. What could I do?" Julie caught hold of my coat with her free hand. "I was so young; the mere thought of all those strangers listening to my intimate "revelations" and gaping at my body covered in those weird costumes terrified me.

"I begged and begged her not to make me go through with it, but she wouldn't budge. So ... so I said yes. The woman came round and we made the films - lots of them.

"Wendy said that her friend could also develop the cine-films and about three days later she came back and we watched them. Seeing myself on the screen, performing all sorts of perverted acts with Wendy disgusted me at first.

"Then, very slowly, I began to get very excited. I couldn't stop myself. The lights were switched off, of course, and Wendy began to play with me while we watched the films. Then the other woman joined in and soon all three of us were rolling about on the settee, imitating the scene we were watching." She paused for breath. The last phrases had come rushing out of her as if she'd bottled the story up for far too long and it had finally burst from her lips like a pent-up dam.

When she continued her story, the words came more slowly. "There's not much more to tell. All this happened only a fortnight ago. When I woke up the morning after the film show, I felt as if I'd also came out of a deep, horrible nightmare.

"I grabbed my few belongings and ran out into the street. I was almost hysterical. I managed to get on a bus and two boys started to talk to me. I suppose I looked as if I'd just escaped from prison or a mental hospital - which in a sense, I had.

"They took me to their flat and gave me some tranquillizers. They were very kind and gentle. It took me a long time before I could tell them even part of what had happened, and then they wanted to go round and beat the hell out of that bitch. But I told them not to."

"Why did you do that?" I asked.

"What good would it have done?" she cried. "All I wanted was to be rid of her - and I thought I was until you came snooping after me!"

"But your friends did hang around her house," I pointed out. "They kept a close enough watch on it to know that she was probably hiring a detective to come looking for you. What stopped them from going in and making sure she didn't pester you any more?"

"How the hell do I know?" Julie shouted. "I don't own them - I don't keep tabs on them! I'm not a bloody bastard of a detective!"

I let that ride. It was very mild compared to the more inventive insults I'd received. I mused over her story. It all added up, of course. The only question left was: do I take her back and collect the �300 or do I tell Wendy Parkington to stuff her money and leave poor lost kids like Julie Marshall alone?

But one little piece didn't quite seem to fit properly. What was to stop Julie from slamming out of the front door as soon as I'd gone away? All Wendy Parkington had asked me to do was deliver the girl: she'd said nothing about standing guard outside the door for a couple of months while she continued to corrupt and use the girl. The �300 certainly didn't cover that.

Maybe she was planning some other form of coercion to keep Julie in her clutches. And once she took delivery of the girl she'd have no further need of my services. It was quite a fine point of ethics. How could I tell what kind of persuasion Miss Parkington would practice on Julie once I'd handed her over to the woman's tender mercies?

I felt a bit like a wicked ogre passing one of the Babes in the Wood over to a merciless stepmother. Julie had finished crying and was standing quietly beside me, her eyes wide open, staring in mute beseechment at me.

�300. It was a lot of money. And I could use it pretty badly right now. I looked at Julie in silence. Hell, what was the point in trying to save the poor bitch! And from what? Just the pawings of a member of her own sex. There were more deserving people in the world to get all steamed up about, Prentice, I told myself. Don't waste your tears (and your �300) on this one.

"Get your coat!" I told her, sharply, the words sounding tougher than I'd intended. Instead of breaking into fresh tears, as I supposed would happen, Julie merely gave me a look of complete contempt.

"All right," she said. "But I'll get you for this, you bastard! You'll get yours, don't worry!" She turned quickly on her heel and ran up the stairs. I put my hand in my pocket and fingered the Luger, just a little bit apprehensively. The cold feel of the metal comforted me - as it always did.

Julie reappeared in a few minutes, a fur wrap slung around her shoulders. I relaxed my grip on the gun and brought my hand out of my pocket. A big mistake ...

As she reached the foot of the stairs the two hoodlums came charging out of the room on my right. They crashed into me, fists swinging wildly. I went over backwards with their bodies sprawling on top of me in the narrow hallway. They were improving. Their fists hit me mercilessly, punching into my face and body, while they pinioned my arms to the floor with their knees.

Lights sparked briefly in front of my eyes and went out again. Pain exploded in jagged fragments at my mouth and nose as bunched-up fingers connected ruthlessly, again and again.

I tried to kick at them but my feet were too far away from their bodies to do any real damage. I could feel my head being knocked from side to side and my consciousness was rapidly ebbing away. I made a desperate effort not to black out. My arms were being pinned down at the muscle above my elbows and I twisted frantically to free them. No good.

But I did manage to lift my hand up in between one man's legs. I clenched my teeth and my fingers closed tightly over his crotch. I squeezed - very hard! I heard a violent yelp of pain and one of the fists suddenly stopped hitting me. I tightened my grip on his balls and twisted my hand very suddenly and viciously.

He staggered to his feet, wrenching himself away - clutching his groin in agony. The other man hit me as hard as he could in the mouth. But it wasn't quite hard enough. I rolled over on my side under the impact of the blow and felt another sock whistle impotently past my face.

I drew my leg back and kicked him as hard as I could in the face. He catapulted backwards, slamming into the wall. I got to my feet, staggering and clutching at the air for support. I went after him quickly, chopped him down with the flat of my hand - the karate blows landing savagely on either side of his neck. One! Two!

I turned, blinking blood out of the corner of my eyes. The other hoodlum was on his knees, his face ashen-white. His eyes were closed and he was babbling in insane agony. I got the Luger out, reversed it and took my time about hitting him to the ground with the barrel.

Julie was standing halfway up the stairs, watching. It cost me a horrible amount of pain just to move, but I went up the stairs after her, catching up with her just before she turned into a room. I was bruised and bleeding. My mouth felt as if it had been split open and wasn't prepared to waste any more time arguing or fighting.

I yanked her arm up behind her back, jerking her wrist so far round that it almost touched the nape of her neck. Then I frog-marched her down the stairs to the front door and threw her into the front seat. She didn't make a sound, not a whimper, the whole way.

I locked the car door carefully and stepped around to the driver's seat. Julie stared straight ahead of her. Neither of us spoke. I drove across London to Wendy Parkington's Mayfair residence in complete silence.

It was 11:30 p.m. when we arrived. And I felt like a third-rate Judas grubbing for my pieces of silver.

Chapter SEVEN

We had to wait a good four minutes before the door finally swung open. Wendy Parkington's hand went up to her face in surprise and shock. I shoved Julie into the house and shut the door, leaning back heavily against it.

Wendy looked from one to the other of us, her eyes startled and wide. "What on earth's happened to you?" she asked me. "You look terrible!"

"You should see her little playmates," I said. "They look even worse. Can I go and clean up somewhere?" Wendy pointed up the stairs. "The bathroom's first on the right," she told me. Then she turned to Julie.

"Julie, my dear - please forgive me for this. I simply had to have you back. You do understand, darling, don't you?"

Julie glared at her. "Come into the lounge, dear," Wendy said. "Have some coffee -" I was starting up the stairs as the two women disappeared into the lounge and their voices faded away out of earshot. I found the bathroom, filled the basin with hot water and bathed my wounds. There was some antiseptic ointment in the cabinet and I dabbed it over the cuts on my face. I was straightening my tie and buttoning up my jacket when the door opened behind me. It was Wendy Parkington. I turned around.

"Are you better now?" The question, I knew was purely rhetorical: she didn't give a damn how I felt. "I'm okay," I said. "And �300 will help pay for the convalescence."

"I'll write you a cheque." She turned and I followed her out of the bathroom and into her study. "I'm sorry," I said. "But I'd prefer cash. It's one of those little things I always insist on."

She shot me a look of impatient exasperation. Then she unlocked a small safe set in one wall and fished out a bundle of five-pound-notes. She flicked through them quickly and threw them at me - three thick wads of paper money, each encircled by an elastic band.

I stuffed them carefully into my jacket pocket. "That will be all, Mr. Prentice," she said, pointedly dismissing me. I didn't move. "There's something I'm a little bit curious about," I told her. "What kind of hold do you have over Julie? How do you think you're going to keep her after I've left? Or do you plan to keep sending for me each week and pay me �300 a time chase after her for you?"

Miss Parkington looked at me furiously. "That's none of your damn business," she said coldly. She hesitated, obviously trying to control her emotions. Then she went on, slightly less antagonistically: "As a matter of fact, Julie's come to her senses. She's just promised me that she won't run away again. Thank you for your services, Mr. Prentice."

She walked to the door and held it open for me. I walked thoughtfully down the stairs, past the lounge door which was now wide open. As I came level with it, I heard Julie's voice: " ... no, as soon as possible. It must be tonight! No, she's getting rid of him now -".

I walked on down the hall to the front door, turned and called goodnight to Miss Parkington. She nodded briefly at me and I went out into the cold, uncomfortable drizzle. I took the car around the block and stopped it. For about half an hour I sat there, smoking and watching the windows slowly misting up. I'd been paid - the job was over. Why the hell I was still letting the day's events turn over and over in my mind, I didn't know. But something-pretty weird was going on in that house. Who was Julie speaking to on the telephone when I left? And why did Miss Parkington now seem so confident that the girl (whether she was her ward or not) wouldn't run away again?

I took the bundles of five-pound-notes out of my pocket and put them into the glove compartment. It may have been that tape recording I'd been listening to all evening. I reminded myself that thanks to the interruption of Julie's "thugs" all thought of seducing the girl had gone out of my head.

But my prick still twitched irritably every time I recalled her sexy, breathy voice. I felt like a bastard for wanting to screw her after all she'd apparently been through already, but the impulse was too strong to be denied. If her "live" performance matched her recorded ones, a sex session with her promised to be quite an experience.

I got out of the car and started to walk back to Miss Parkington's house. I hunched my shoulders against the steadily falling rain and the occasional gusts of wind. Something was going to happen there tonight and I was determined that this time I was going to be in the middle of the action.

I turned the last corner, and quickly drew myself back into the shadow of a shop doorway. A car was just drawing up outside Wendy Parkington's place. As I watched, a woman got out of the driver's seat, walked around to the boot and lifted a large suitcase from it.

From this distance, and with the rain helping to blur my vision, I couldn't make out her features. She hurried up to the front door. It opened almost immediately. I couldn't see who'd answered it, but the woman lifted the suitcase through the porch and went in. The door closed quickly behind her.

I moved out of the doorway and continued to walk towards the house. There was a side entrance and I started down it, feeling my way cautiously past the overhanging, wet greenery. Stealthily, I opened the back door. It swung lightly inwards and my eyes, getting used to the half-dark, made out a small, but well-equipped kitchen.

I could hear faint voices coming from the next room. A shaft of light stretched horizontally under the door and I edged my way towards it ...

"You brought everything? The spare lamps, the film?"

"It's all in the case. There's five extra reels, just in case we need them. I must say, it's a bit late to start making a movie - why can't it wait until tomorrow evening?"

"No, it's got to be tonight. I told you: she might go blabbing to that bloody detective if we don't humor her."

"I thought it was all finished," the other voice grumbled. "You told me ... " The woman evidently moved farther away from the door, because I lost her next words.

But the first voice said, after a muffled silence: "Complications. Ssh! I can hear her coming in -!"

Both the women's voices had been so indistinct that I couldn't be certain if one of them had belonged to Miss Parkington or to Julie. And whichever one of them it had been, the words hadn't made much sense. I noticed, now that I could see almost as clearly as if there's been a light on, and that a small cubby-hole was fixed into the wall. It was situated just above the large kitchen table and was evidently used for passing dishes into the lounge. I gingerly pushed at it. The flap which kept it shut when it wasn't in use slowly lifted.

I climbed up quietly onto the table and by kneeling down I could see over the top of the flap right into the room. The harsh, piercing dazzle of stark photo flood light blinded me. I blinked like a rabbit caught in the beam of twin headlamps.

When my eyes had adjusted somewhat to the glare, I made out Julie and Wendy Parkington standing together in the foreground. They were studying a sheaf of quarto paper. The third woman was invisible behind the blinding white light.

After a few moments, Wendy threw the papers to one side. "All ready?" she called. "Ready!" the woman answered. Julie stepped over to the door. Miss Parkington began to strip and I beared the steady purr of a cine-camera start up from behind the lights.

Although what followed was interrupted at regular intervals by pauses to feed new film into the camera, I became so absorbed in watching the drama that was being enacted that I scarcely noticed them. The whole thing took on a strange, dream-like quality - and from my vantage point I felt myself being irresistibly drawn into the subtle aura of eroticism that was being created in the next room.

For this reason, I'm going to relate what I saw as if it were completely continuous - without mentioning the time lapses for the threading of fresh film. Because, for me, they scarcely existed either. I got so interested in Wendy and Julie's acting - if it was acting! - that I even forgot to look at the camera-woman, despite several opportunities.

And what did I see that made me too absorbed to do what I'd returned for - a planned seduction of Julie and a sorting out of her relationship with Wendy Parkington? Recalling it in detail, even now, months afterwards, I get that familiar surge in my prick ...

Wendy stripped off down to her panties, stockings and brassiere. But the brassiere was a mere skeletal affair - it had both the breast cups removed so that her ample tits stuck out firmly and rudely. The scraps of nylon material which circled them served only to heighten the thrust of her magnificent breasts and make them even more noticeable than they would have been if nothing had covered them.

And the brief, bright red panties were so scanty that from a side view she looked as if she were not wearing anything at all below her waist. The long, taut webbing of her stocking retainers was also red hi colour. They gripped the tops of her black, tightly pulled up stockings, firmly stretching them so that they clung to her marvelously soft thighs like a second skin.

She posed prettily for the camera, turning this way and that, presenting it with every possible view of her lovely, provocative body. Then she picked up from the settee a short apron which she tied around her waist. She crossed to the cocktail cabinet, took out a tray which bore two glasses and a bottle of gin and put it on the coffee table.

She settled herself casually on the settee and began to adjust her suspenders. Her hands ran silkily along the tops of her thighs, making sure that the stocking clips drew her already sheath-like stockings even more tightly around her legs.

From my angle of vision I could plainly see the large bulge of her sleekly fat quim as her legs parted. Apparently satisfied at last with the glamorous feel of her sexy stockings, Wendy Parkington leaned forward and poured herself a large drink. As she sipped at the glass, I noticed Julie beginning to move across the room towards her.

Unseen by me, the girl had evidently slipped off all her own clothes, and was now wearing a white smock which was tied loosely around her waist in a large bow, finishing in a revealing swirl just above her knees. As she approached, Wendy quickly replaced her glass on the table and got to her feet in evident confusion. She backed away from the table, cowering before Julie's menacing figure.

Julie sat down haughtily on the settee, crossing her legs. The smock rode up a little higher, showing a tantalizing flash of the girl's white thighs. With one imperious finger she beckoned Wendy to come to her. The woman advanced slowly, uncertainly.

As she reached the settee, Wendy dropped to her knees before the proud, regal girl, her eyes downcast. Her breasts wobbled invitingly as she bent herself forward. Julie stretched out her hand, palm downwards, towards the kneeling woman - graciously indicating that it was to be kissed.

Wendy took the offered hand in hers and began to plant long, lingering kisses on it. Julie's hand was only a few brief inches away from Miss Parkington's dangling nipples, and the girl subtly closed the distance and allowed her fingertips to brush softly, silkily against the sweet, hard cherries. Wendy shivered almost imperceptibly as the girl's fingernails rubbed teasingly on the surface of the soft, sensitive tips of her nipples.

Julie splayed her fingers slightly and made one of Wendy's teats slip between the parted digits. Then she closed her fingers again - tightly - trapping Miss Parkington's fiery, pointed nipple. The kneeling woman was still kissing the back of Julie's hand, making her lips slide lovingly over the warm flesh.

With a sudden, violent movement Julie snatched her hand away, almost dragging Wendy off balance. Then she gestured towards the bottle and glasses. Wendy got slowly to her feet, poured a drink for the girl and offered her the glass.

As Julie drank from it, however, she tilted the glass too soon and several drops of the neat gin trickled down the inside of her smock. She threw the glass back on the table and untied the bow which held her single garment across her body. It opened, revealing that the girl was completely naked.

Nervously, Wendy Parkington leaned forward, her breasts swinging freely, and began to lick the alcohol away ' from Julie's bare body. A few drops had found their way onto the girl's satin-textured breasts and Wendy took especial care to ensure that these were mopped up between her red lips. This necessitated her taking Julie's curvy breasts into her mouth, one at a time, and sucking briefly but intensely on the angelic melons.

Whilst she was performing this operation, Julie's hand slipped round and encircled one of Wendy's own dangling breasts, fondling it carelessly and drawing the hanging globe downwards in an erotic milking action.

At length, Wendy straightened herself up again and poured Julie a fresh drink. But this time she herself stumbled as she was passing the glass across and the cold liquid was accidentally splashed all over Julie's nude breasts.

The girl got to her feet quickly, her eyes blazing angrily. She glared furiously at Wendy and then swung her hand viciously against the older woman's face. The blow sent Wendy sprawling to the soft pile carpet, her unfettered breasts shaking with delightful, uncontrollable wobbles. She lay still.

Julie bent down beside the prostrate woman, reaching out her hand and pushing it into one of Wendy's breasts to steady herself. Then she began to adopt various lewd positions, sitting on the helpless "maid's" scantily-clad body, trying out different postures.

First, she settled herself experimentally on Wendy's tummy, plumping her bare buttocks in a squashing action onto the woman's soft belly. Next, she rearranged herself ' so that her arse cheeks used Wendy's thrustful breasts as a soft, giving cushion. The girl's thighs, of course, were widely parted in front of Miss Parkington's face, giving the prostrate woman a completely unhindered view of her wide, open cunt.

Tiring of this position, Julie now climbed back onto the settee, letting her feet rest on Wendy's outstretched, passive body, using the woman as a footstool. The girl began to drum her feet idly on the white flesh beneath her. Her bare toes tickled and pushed into Miss Parkington's breasts, the nails scratching with a teasing, provocative insistence on the woman's ripely red nipples.

Her other foot swung downwards and Julie lifted the flap of Wendy's apron, flicking it up to display her "maid's" fantastically brief red panties and the swelling, throbbing bulge of her almost-discernible cunt-lips. The girl's big toe rubbed up the inside of Wendy's slightly parted thighs, pushing and stroking the soft, relaxed skin.

Julie worked her toe under the wide, taut suspender strap and began to lift it elastically away from Wendy's thigh, letting it fall back with a faint but exciting thwack on the woman's soft inner leg.

Then her toe continued to trace a deliberate pattern up the top of Miss Parkington's bare upper leg until it brushed boldly against the tightly held-in bulge of the woman's quim.

All this time, Wendy Parkington had been lying absolutely still, offering no resistance whatsoever to the indignities to which her body was being subjected. Her eyes were lightly closed and she showed no sign of protesting against the familiarities which Julie was inflicting on her.

Julie now wiggled her toe deeply into the deeply cut crevice which showed under the red bikini panties. At the same time, she continued to roll Miss Parkington's unprotesting right breast with her other foot. The girl's hands, meanwhile, were busy at her own private places ...

Her fingers had unobtrusively dipped into the warm, hairy mound between her own legs, widening her thighs to permit her hand to finger the long, pearly slit of her sex. Then, skillfully, Julie began to slide her toes under the top of Wendy's panties, burrowing down the inside of them - against the warm so-soft flesh - until they curled over the bare, throbbing skin of her "maid's" slit.

Poor Wendy was unable to hold her responses any longer. As I watched, she began to writhe under the ecstasies of Julie's toe-caress, pressing her hips upwards to receive the girl's idle, lascivious probings. Finally, Julie evidently tired of this game. She pulled her foot away from Wendy's loins, lifted her other leg away from the woman's breast and swung them up on the settee - pausing in mid-action for a few moments to display to the watching camera her lightly-bushed cunt.

Then she turned over onto her tummy. As if by a prearranged signal, Wendy also got to her feet and bent down over Julie's horizontal body. The unfastened smock was draped very revealingly across the middle of Julie's buttocks, displaying the plump lower half of the girl's cheeks in all their white, upstanding sexiness.

Wendy slowly put her hands on the girl's bottom and massaged the warm, yielding globes with thorough, pressing fingers. She turned the fleshy skin over and over, drawing the milky mounds widely apart to show the heavy indenture of Julie's arsecrease.

She worked expertly, professionally, giving the passive bum a complete invigorating massage. Wendy gently raised the draped smock until Julie's arse was presented in its totally uncovered bareness. The woman's thumbs slipped underneath the curve of Julie's bottom, feeling deeply into the secret, damp place beneath the girl's legs.

She was beginning to work her thumbs steadily into the giving, moist flesh of Julie's quim, at the same time continuing to rub and press the girl's arsecheeks. Wendy indulged in this particular action for some minutes, rolling the supple globes round and round; squashing them up tightly together, pausing, then drawing them tautly apart, her thumbs still busily burrowing between Julie's legs at the fleshy folds of her cunt.

Then Miss Parkington changed the position of her hands slightly. She moved her thumbs away from Julie's sex, and quickly replaced them with her forefingers - her thumbs joining the rest of her hand in continuing the slow massage of the girl's ample, snowy buttocks.

Now, Wendy got up on the settee, legs astride Julie's body, facing down towards her outstretched legs. She sat firmly on Julie's back, just below the girl's shoulders, and bent her head down until her mouth was close enough to kiss and suck at her "mistress's" cheeky bottom. She held the white moons as widely apart as possible while her lips and tongue burrowed down into the hot, pungent rear hole.

Wendy worked on Julie's anus with passionate intensity, licking - sucking - planting loud, extravagant kisses on the stretched-open arse. Then, in angrily heated lust, Wendy began to take large, painful bites out of the supple cheeks; at intervals returning her mouth to the pursed brown nutmeg which throbbed in the center of Julie's sweetly reddened arse-crease.

Julie was remaining absolutely still, receiving the wet attentions of Miss Parkington's mouth without betraying any trace of emotion. Finally, the woman rolled off Julie's back and stood by the side of the settee. Julie turned her head languidly to look at her.

Miss Parkington's face was deeply flushed, her hair in disarray, her lips parted and her hands fingering the tops of her stockings nervously. Julie slowly reached out her hand and inserted two fingers into the top of Wendy's panties. She tugged slightly, drawing the woman's body another pace nearer to her. The thin red material of Wendy's immodest garment stretched outwards from her tummy, as Julie pulled the elastic of the knickers towards her.

Julie's fingers slid gently downwards until they cupped the furry mons veneris. She began to tickle her fingers into the long, deep slit. The tiny triangle of the bikini panties was stretched even further down by this action, revealing Miss Parkington's bushy growth and Julie's fingers fumbling with casual ease at the entrance to her cunt.

Julie reached round Wendy's body with her other hand and began to tug the clinging, silky pants away from the bulging white mounds of the woman's arse. Soon, Wendy's panties were pulled so far down that they no longer served their purpose of keeping her private, personal charms hidden from view. They were reduced to a thin fold of material which stretched tautly below her buttocks and around the tops of her thighs.

Julie's hand began to explore the exciting, now totally bared bottom. At the same time, her other hand continued its petting of Wendy's front hole; working two of her fingers up into the tight, hot slit while she stared contemptuously up into the woman's downcast eyes.

After a few minutes' steady manipulation, the fingers on both of Julie's hands had found their respective goals. They were sweetly but firmly imbedded into the desirable, constricting heat of the obedient woman's twin sexy orifices.

Steadily, unhurriedly, Julie pushed her fingers in and out of the two pleasure-holes, keeping a steady rhythm of inward - wriggle and tease a little - and withdrawing (fingers slithering in reluctant, departing sorrow) movements.

Then the motioned Wendy to get up onto the settee again. Julie positioned her so that she was lying down in front of her, her head propped up on a soft cushion. She made Wendy place one leg high up on the back of the settee, and lower the other one so that her foot touched the floor: thus presenting Julie with a complete, clear view of the woman's open sex-slot.

Slowly and precisely, Julie rolled down the screwed-up bikini panties and tossed them to the ground. Then she turned her attention once more to the gaping red wound which confronted her.

She picked up from the coffee table a bar of milk chocolate. She broke open the packet, snapped two large squares of the brown slab off, and, holding Miss Parking-ton's cunt-lips open, the audacious girl dipped the chocolate into the red, pulsing gash.

Julie poked it all the way in, closing the fleshy, supple fore-lips over the generous slab. They snapped back into place, swallowing the chocolate completely.

Julie's dominating eyes gleamed as she quickly maneuvered herself down between Wendy's legs. She rested her fingers firmly on the insides of the "maid's" thighs and bent her head towards the hairy cunt. Her tongue poked out of her mouth as far as it would stretch, and she began to lick with long, lingering strokes upwards into Miss Parkington's closed-up quim.

This liquid caress slowly made the heavy folds part again. Julie buried her lips deeply into the revealed hole, sucking and chewing and drawing the melting chocolate into her mouth. She savored the enriched flavor of the sweet, creamy morsel and then replaced it in the woman's open repository.

She repeated this sexy, uninhibited action until the chocolate had totally dissolved.

Julie then raised her face. Her lips were smeared with the brown remnants of her treat, and around the puffy honeypot of Wendy's cunt could plainly be seen the sticky traces of the remaining chocolate. Noticing these, Julie again pushed her face close up to her "maid's" defenseless slit and licked away, with quick, darting movements of her pink tongue, the telltale stains. The girl ran her tongue over her own lips, finally satisfied that all the chocolate had disappeared.

Julie next stretched herself full-length on the settee over Wendy's body. She twisted her limbs so that they fitted perfectly on top of the woman underneath her; pressing her thighs into Wendy's, making the sharp knobs of Miss Parkington's suspender tops stick firmly into her fleshy leg.

She made Wendy stretch her arms out above her, then leaned her head on the woman's soft shoulder. Julie looked down at Wendy's breasts, shamelessly poking through the skeleton of a brassiere. The girl began to spank them, hitting the naked spheres with the flat of her hand and making them wobble freely.

She slapped them first one way and then the other, studying them carefully as the red-tipped globes tilted from side to side on the woman's chest. Julie began to work her own cunt against Wendy's, contracting her stuck-up buttocks and grinding the open lips of her slit on Miss Parkington's naked hole.

The palm of her hand continued its steady, ceaseless beating of the woman's titties. Julie was propped up on one elbow, obviously reveling in the pleasure she was getting from this treatment of the defenseless female beneath her. And now she seized the hot, erect nipple of the breast farthest from her and pinched it remorselessly. The girl made the teat stand up right off the breast and then swung it from side to side, making Wendy's poor tit quiver helplessly.

Tiring quickly of this new novelty, Julie again turned her attention to her "maid's" cunt. She rolled slightly off Wendy's body so that her groping hand could come into contact with the pearly slit. But instead of frigging the woman, as I'd expected, she placed her fingers down one side of the precious cunt-lips, her thumb down the other ... and pinched the slit together - very tightly!

Wendy Parkington squirmed in delicious agony as her quim was thus pressed securely closed. She began to drum her heels softly on the end of the settee. Julie's next action was to pull on the tightly clenched, bulging cunt-lips, drawing the bunched-up flesh away from Wendy's crotch.

Julie peered down with great interest at the strange and delightful shape which Wendy's cunt was assuming. It was so large and so well-fleshed that the skin she had gathered up was stretching a good three inches away from Wendy's body.

The girl suddenly let go and Miss Parkington's cunt snapped back into position like a piece of thick elastic. Amused by this, Julie again gathered up as much of the woman's quim in her fingers as was possible. She again held it firmly away from Wendy's tormented body ... and again let it twang back ...

But the inventive girl quickly lost interest in this, too. She sighted a long, swishly-looking cane and bent to pick it up. She scrambled off the settee and forced Wendy to turn over and kneel on the cushions.

Julie lined the cane up with the middle of Wendy's outthrust buttocks. She swung it back - aimed carefully ... and sent it stingingly across the pouting cheeks, where it scored a long red weal.

Wendy flinched painfully as the bamboo stick cut into her. Smiling, Julie raised it again. She carefully hit the woman's bottom in a different place with each stroke - and there were many of them!

Kneeling over in the position she was, Miss Parkington's cunt was also exposed to the slashing cane. And Julie took care to land several sizzling swishes across the slightly-parted red lips.

The cane swung merrily again and again. It raised a fresh welt on Wendy's backside with every slash, until her bottom was almost covered with the long, glowing streaks of pain.

Julie stood with legs wide apart as she administered the punishment. The sight of Wendy's sore and angry bum seemed to make her even more sexually aroused than she had been. Her hand went quickly between her legs, and she began to play with herself - frigging the open slit of her cunt with crazed, maddened fingers.

Her passion was not spent for several long minutes, but she finally threw the cane to one side and bent down to inspect the damage she had inflicted on Wendy at close hand. With the apparent detachment of a doctor, Julie ran her fingers slowly along the deep cuts. Wendy's face was screwed up with unmentionable pain as the girl ruthlessly rubbed her forefinger cruelly into the wounds she had made.

Julie also took the opportunity to push her forefinger into the splayed back hole, jamming it in with total disregard for the woman's feelings. She playfully pinched the sore flesh, snatching up thick folds of the ample, soft buttocks and nipping them between her fingers.

And then a look of pity spread over her face. The girl bent her face down to the plumpy thrust up bottom and she began to kiss and pet at it with her mouth, kissing and licking into the streaks of red weals. Her tongue trembled wetly, pinkly out of her mouth and she ran it delicately along the sore welts, holding the large mounds apart with her hands whilst she planted long, lingering kisses on Wendy's pouting brown hole.

Then her mood changed back, just as swiftly, to one of black heartlessness, for the girl reached out to the table for a salt cellar. She smiled grimly as her hand shook the stinging white grains into the raw tenderness of Wendy's cut bottom. Julie sprinkled the salt plentifully along each and every welt made by the bamboo cane, making Miss Parkington's arse twitch and shake with spasmodic anguish.

Julie stepped back, enjoying the helpless trembling of Wendy's body. She crossed over to the suitcase which lay on the floor some distance away and extracted a large, wickedly life-like dildo from it. She rubbed it thoroughly with Vaseline and then smeared the greasy white jelly deeply into her cunt, thrusting two fingers right up the darling hole to lubricate it properly.

Julie walked back to the settee. She pulled Wendy to her feet and motioned the woman to tie the imitation prick around her loins. Wendy fumblingly fastened the weapon on, pulling the cord tautly under her fanny and securing it at the front.

She presented an amazing picture of bisexuality as she stood there - her skin-tight silk stockings and suspender belt contrasting excitingly with the maleness of the dildo, sticking out proudly from her crotch. Her curvaceous figure, the twin breasts held in, but completely exposed by her inadequate brassiere; the whiteness and feminine beauty of her sleek, well-proportioned charms - these all contributed to a vision of strange, stirring loveliness ...

Julie surveyed her at length, running her eyes critically over the partially-transformed woman. Then the girl forced her to lie down on the floor so that her "prick" stuck up at an inviting angle into the air.

She kept her legs tightly together and Julie slowly lowered herself down on to Wendy's supine body, opening her thighs to receive the pointed rubber cock in her well-oiled cunt. Wendy held the thing straight, easing it between Julie's slick cunt-lips as the girl cautiously slid her hole down onto the life-like tool.

After some fumbling maneuvers, it slid comfortably and deeply into Julie's greasy slot; the girl letting her body sink down until she was firmly astride Wendy's hips. Tentatively at first, she began to ride on the dildo, lifting herself up, wiggling slightly, then lowering herself again. Wendy kept absolutely still, letting Julie do all the work of thrusting the dildo in and out of her.

Julie became too careless. She raised her hips too much and the prick flopped irritatingly out of her cunt. She fumbled between her legs until the thing was once more inserted, then continued to fuck herself on it.

Wendy came to life at last and reached her hands around until they encompassed Julie's buttocks. They squeezed and pressed the contracting globes, running all over the luscious flesh and drawing the girl firmly downwards onto her "weapon".

But once again Julie became too ambitious - and the dildo slipped out of her quim. Cursing savagely, Julie changed her position. She turned around so that her back was towards Wendy's face and once more coaxed the thick artificial phallus into her cunt - this time taking good care to hold it in position with her fingers.

This position also enabled her to play with her own clitoris, and Julie lost no time in worming her forefinger into the upper lips of her vagina and rubbing at the fat, curved protuberance of her stiff little clitty.

The cheeks of her lovely, naked bottom were plumped firmly on Wendy's chest, just below the woman's breasts, and Wendy - denied the chance of feeling Julie's arse-cheeks - decided to turn her attention to the girl's own titties. She reached under Julie's armpits and clutched at the superb globes. She seized two wonderful handfuls of the softly pliable flesh and turned them both in a clockwise revolving action.

Julie looked downwards to watch this, and then her eyes stared past the fierce manipulation of her breasts to feast themselves on the sight of the dildo sliding steadily in and out of her cunt.

Her body began to throb uncontrollably as she was worked up by the tight action of the rubber cock inside her quim. She began to breathe deeply and heavily; her head lolled helplessly and her eyes shut tightly as the thrusting surge of Wendy's "prick" tickled and teased her to the point of orgasm.

Up and down the girl humped herself on the woman's yielding body. Faster and faster she forced the permanently-horny cock in and out of her twitching cunt ...

At last her body gave a shudder of complete giving-over to her emotions, and Julie throbbed helplessly to her climax. The hot liquid of her girlish spunk dribbled down the base of the dildo, oozing wetly between Wendy's legs to merge there with the woman's own oily flood.

Julie raised herself off the prick-gadget and let her body flop to the floor alongside Wendy's. They relaxed silently for a few moments. But their respite was short-lived. Julie soon recovered and was evidently eager to experiment with a new and more dominant position.

She quickly roused Wendy and made the woman kneel up on the settee once more, this time with her buttocks facing the outside and open-ended side of the couch. Julie unfastened the dildo and drew the phallus between Wendy's legs. It took no more than a minute for her to strap the prick on herself. She looked down admiringly at the slightly jogging tool as it pushed out erectly from her lovely groin.

Then the girl hurriedly re-lubricated it and turned her attention to the waiting Wendy Parkington. She stepped up close behind the woman, crouching a little so that the dildo could pass under Wendy's parted thighs.

A few experimental thrusts which made the rubber cock rub menacingly against Wendy's cunt-lips, and then the girl was ready ...

She held her weapon steady, aimed it with great care, then levered it slowly forward into the very heart of Miss Parkington's yawning slit. It went in as easily as if it had been made of butter.

Julie drew it slowly out, until the crown almost slipped away from Wendy's parted lips, then rammed it quickly home again, the expression on her face revealing how satisfying the action had been to her. She let go of the dildo, trusting the rhythm of her hips not to let it fall out of Wendy's cunt, and pushed her hands up around the woman's body until they closed roughly over Wendy's down-hanging breasts. She pulled on the dangling globes, milking them with regular, persuasive pulls on the softly swaying flesh.

Together, the two women fucked; Julie's tummy jamming up tightly into the thrusting yet very soft hemispheres of Wendy's buttocks.

They writhed in ever-increasing, ever faster rhythms of lustful pleasure. The tightly strapped-on dildo plunged again and again into the willing, soaking hole of Wendy's cunt. Julie's grip grew stronger and stronger on the woman's breasts, her fingers tickling the erect red buttons of her nipples.

On and on they went, Julie's hips jerking backwards and forwards as she urged the dildo hi and out of Wendy's long, hot slit. Until, finally, the friction of the invigorating rubber penis was too much for poor Wendy and she released a seemingly endless flood of white cream to anoint the staff.

The frothy spunk trickled down her own and Julie's thighs, mingling with the damp sweat and the not-yet-dry deposits of Julie's earlier emission.

Julie stepped away slightly and let the dildo slip from its snug hiding place inside Wendy's steaming cunt. She threw herself on to the settee and stretched out - exhausted. Wendy Parkington rolled over and lay by her side, reaching out for the girl's hand to clasp it warmly.

The fierce glare of the photoflood lamp was finally switched off. But it took me several minutes of blinking adjustment to the subdued light before I could make out the face of the woman who had been operating the camera during this lesbian blue-movie making.

She was - as I should have guessed - none other than Phillipa Richmond!

Chapter EIGHT

The smell of corruption in that room was so strong that I could almost taste it. I still wasn't quite sure, though, just who was busily corrupting whom. There was certainly a whole lot more in Julie Marshall's character than I'd assumed at first, though everything still pointed to the fact that these two rich bitches - Wendy Parkington and Mrs. Richmond - had forced (persuaded?) the girl to take part in their lesbian orgies.

Anyway, if she (the girl) had been doing all this voluntarily - taping the stories, posing for the pictures, acting in the movies - why had she been so forcibly and ruthlessly determined to stop me from taking her back to Wendy Parkington?

I stepped down from the table, letting the cubby-hole flap fall back into place. I was still missing the final piece in the puzzle: the loose ends still had to be neatly tied up together.

And I couldn't deny - not to myself, anyway - that the main reason for my continuing interest in these odd people was the fact that I hadn't yet managed to get myself well and truly into the cute little quim which Julie Marshall had tucked between her legs!

I wondered just what the hell I should do now. It was barely conceivable that I could burst into the room, cry: "The game's up! I know everything!" But what good would that do? I could scarcely tell them I'd go to the police and warn them that a young girl was being foully corrupted by a couple of lesbian-bent woman. I permitted myself a small, silent chuckle at the notion. The reputation I enjoyed with the few police officers I knew would make them sneer nonstop at me for a couple of hours.

No, I had no cards worth playing. Not at the moment, anyway. But goddamnit, I wanted a piece of that sweet little girl's cunt! I cursed myself for thinking more of the money than of Julie's tight little pussy. Obviously I should have been gentle and kind with her - told her I'd be more than willing to throw away �300 and help her to keep away from the evil Miss Parkington ...

And then I laughed at myself again. I just wasn't the type who could toss an easy �300 out of the window and not regret it. It was simply my growing obsession with the unlaid girl that was making my mind play tricks on me.

I couldn't think of anything further that could usefully be done tonight. I let myself quietly out of the house and walked back to my car. The rain had stopped. The streets were gleaming with puddles caught in the steady yellows beams from the street lights.

I drove home slowly. I spent more than an hour tossing and turning in bed, memories of the film I'd watched being shot revolving obsessively through my mind. It was about 2 a.m. before I finally drifted off to sleep, and even then my dreams were full of disconnected fantasies ... The glitter of suspender studs ... The merging and melting of two female bodies, nude and passionate ... The steady pull of countless nipples - distended and erect - being tweaked and stroked ... The vision of complex, open cunt-slits, long-fingernailed female hands delving into them ... Glossy, plump round bottoms being mercilessly thwacked by wicked-looking bamboo canes ...

The telephone shrilling insistently in my ear broke into my slumber, disrupting the horn-making images. I reached sleepily for the receiver, switching the table lamp on before I put it to my ear. It was 8:30 a. m.

I mumbled something incoherently into the mouthpiece. A bright, cheery woman's voice said: "Good morning, Mr. Prentice! How are you this fine day!"

"Morning?" I muttered. "It's the middle of the goddamn night! Who the hell are you?"

"Why, this is Phillipa Richmond - and I'm most hurt that you don't recognize my voice - you sexy bastard! I'm terribly sorry I had to leave you before you woke up yesterday. Something rather important had cropped up, you see."

"Oh! Did it?" My mind was thick with the fumes of sleep. I found it hard to focus my attention on what she was saying. Then I remembered the important part Mrs. Richmond had played in the little drama of the night before. I renewed my efforts to take in her words and make them register on my sleep-befuddled brain.

"Yes, it was most rude of me. Please accept my sincere apologies."

"That's okay," I said. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Why, yes," she chuckled. "As a matter of fact there is. I wonder if you're free today? I'd like you to come round this afternoon, if you're not too busy." Her voice dropped to a smooth, innuendo-packed whisper. "We can mix a little business with pleasure ... "

I was wide awake now. I wasn't sure if Mrs. Richmond was playing some sort of game with me that was connected with Miss Parkington and Julie Marshall, but I was being presented with an opportunity to find out.

"I'd love to," I told her. "Can you give me some idea what the "business" might be, thought? Should I bring my notebook and contract forms along?"

There was a slight, practically non-existent pause. Then she said: "It's not something I'd like to discuss on the phone. It's a bit too intimate for that. Can you be here at, say, four o'clock?"

"All right," I said. "That'll be fine." She blew a little kiss into the phone and rang off. I put the receiver back in its cradle and let my head return to the pillow. I let the thoughts of the night revolve slowly in my brain, testing theories, trying out interpretations ...

Later, I got up and showered, dressed and breakfasted. I spent the rest of the morning and the early afternoon pottering about the office, trying to catch up on a backlog of filing. At 3:30 p. m. I took the tube to High Street, Kensington and again walked down the narrow cul-de-sac to Mrs. Richmond's house. The tape recording made by Julie Marshall was jammed into my jacket pocket.

The Scandinavian maid opened the door and her face broke into a beaming, white-teeth-sparkling smile when she saw me. "Mr. Prentice!" she cried. "How nice to see you again - please, come in!"

I followed her down the hall and we turned into the spacious lounge. I watched the generous cheeks of the maid's bottom twitch saucily as she left me, promising that Mrs. Richmond wouldn't keep me waiting a few minutes. She was a very good-looking girl. However, at the moment my desires were firmly centered on the rather more intriguing charms of Julie Marshall. The maid was an open, frank, probably very uninhibited type. But the slightly claustrophobic, sultry air of mystery about Julie was more to my present taste. And in any case I felt that I couldn't really enjoy another girl until I'd finally got my cock into Julie's plump and gorgeous cunt.

Phillipa Richmond entered the room, her arms held out. "Norman," she smiled. She came right up to me and sidled herself against my body, reaching her hands up to encircle my neck. She put her full, moist lips on mine and kissed me lingeringly, opening her mouth briefly to taunt me with the tip of her exciting pink tongue.

Phillipa drew her lovely lips away but kept her body pushing steadily into me - the firm, thrusting heat of her breasts rubbing arousingly into my chest. "Oh, it's so good to see you again, Norman," she whispered, her lips moving against the lobe of my ear. I took her by the upper arms and held her slightly away from me. At a distance of six feet she'd still have been too close for comfort. The heady perfume she wore would alone have starting my prick itching. But I wanted to talk to her, wanted to get a few things straightened out before I let her mature, seductive body overpower my senses.

"I'm glad you phoned me, Phillipa," I said. "Because I was thinking of getting in touch with you today even if you hadn't."

"That's good!" she breathed, and tried to rub her body up against me again. Making a strong effort, I managed to hold her at bay.

"Seen any good movies lately, Phillipa?" I asked her casually.

She frowned and looked flustered for a few seconds. She recovered herself quickly and smiled, saying with just the right note of mild perplexity: "That's a pretty weird thing to ask at a time like this!"

I lifted her chin up carefully and looked into her eyes. "Is it, Phillipa? Don't mess around with me, darling. I was at Miss Parkington's house last night. You're pretty clever with that zoom lens!"

She froze. Her hands clutched at my back, then fell limply to her side. She stepped back a couple of paces from me and her eyes filled quickly with hate. "You snooping bastard!" she breathed. "You prying, snooping bastard!"

Her hands suddenly reached out, fingers crooked and nails ready to tear at my face. I caught her wrists and pulled them firmly down again. "What are you two doing to the poor kid?" I asked her. "And why? What the hell are you getting out of making Julie do all these things?"

Mrs. Richmond studied me in silence for a few minutes. Then she shrugged her shoulders, wearily. "Oh, all right," she said. "You may as well know what's been going on - you seem to know too much about us already."

She disengaged her wrists from my grip and walked over to the settee. I took a cigarette from an open box on the table and lit it, waiting for her to go on.

"It was Wendy Parkington's idea originally," she said finally. "She picked Julie up one evening and started to seduce her. We'd been friends for quite some time, and when she'd got the girl completely under her spell, she got in touch with me. Wendy wanted to use Julie to make films for her small circle of friends. There was a profit motive as well, of course. They sell for a very high price, especially movies as well made as ours were ... "

"Tape recordings, too?" I asked her.

She looked puzzled. I got the box containing "Julie's Schooldays" out of my pocket and threw it down on the coffee table in front of her. Mrs. Richmond stared at it, her eyes slowly widening in recognition. "How the hell did you -?" she started to say. "Oh, what does it matter! Yes - tape recordings, too! And photos. And live shows! Julie wasn't the only girl we had, of course - there were plenty of others. Of course, I know you won't believe me - but I didn't really want to get involved in the whole mess. I - Wendy can be very persuasive, though. I was an expert movie-maker; I even won a couple of amateur awards a few years back ...

"It doesn't matter now how she got me to do what she wanted. She did - that's all!" Phillipa reached across for a cigarette. I lit it for her. She inhaled deeply and sent a thick stream of smoke across the room.

"Julie was the only girl we ever had any trouble with. The others did it for money and kicks and went on their way without any regrets. But Julie is a very emotional girl ... She let the experiences ride her, she became too attached to Wendy."

"Then what made her run out and act up the way she did?" I asked, watching Mrs. Richmond's eyes intently.

"Because she's very neurotic, very highly strung, I suppose," the woman answered. "Wendy was very afraid she'd do something silly. She had to get her back before the girl cracked-up completely. She phoned me yesterday morning and told me that Julie had left. You were due to come here and I gave her your telephone number. I thought at the time that was the best thing to do - get a private detective after her, throw a scare into Julie so she wouldn't run away again."

"And directly I returned the girl to her, she set about making another film with her," I commented. "Very mercenary! "

"Julie was very much in demand!" Phillipa snapped back at me. "Wendy had had a lot of money offered her for another movie starring the girl. She wanted to make sure of completing it before any further complications arose. That's all."

I'd finished my cigarette and I crushed it out slowly in a large silver ashtray. "Why did you phone me this morning?" I asked. "What "little business" did you have in mind?"

Mrs. Richmond sighed. "I'm afraid it's going to be even more essential now," she said. And that's when I should have moved - quickly. But I didn't. And Mrs. Richmond brought her hand up from its resting place under the cushions of the settee, a small but deadly automatic pointing straight at my stomach.

I raised my hands carefully, taking care not to move too quickly. The gun she was holding had a very delicate trigger mechanism and I didn't want her to get the slightest bit nervous. "Face the wall, Mr. Prentice," she ordered. "And keep your hands up as high as you can reach."

I moved as she directed me. She followed, standing a few feet back judging by the sound of her voice. "Yes, Mr. Prentice," she said, rather regretfully I thought. "I asked you to come here so that you could be taught a lesson. She insisted that you shouldn't be allowed to get away with treating her so badly. Although that was Wendy's fault, really. Still, we must placate poor Julie, mustn't we? After all, she's such a sensitive, emotional girl. It was one of the conditions that she agreed to come back - that you be suitably punished. I'm dreadfully sorry ... "

I shifted my head slightly and out of the corner of my eye I saw the heavy, sharp-angled ashtray come swinging towards the back of my neck. I tried to dodge the blow but it cracked into my neck, smacking me up against the wall. I blacked out immediately, falling forward into an ever-widening black pit of pain-filled nothingness ...

Chapter NINE

As I came slowly back to my senses, the splitting pain in my head and the back of my neck grew steadily more intense. I fought down the nausea that threatened to flood my body and opened my eyes with a great deal of trouble.

I gradually made out that I was bound very tightly to an upright chair, my hands pulled around behind me and securely roped together. My ankles had been tied separately to the legs of the chair. Even if I'd been in a fit state to move I couldn't have stirred more than a few inches. All of my clothes had been stripped off. I was completely naked.

My eyes blinked the room back into some sort of focus and I saw three figures standing near me, two of them a little distance away - the third holding a glass of water and only about two feet from me. She swung the glass, sloshing the ice-cold contents in my face. The shock brought me completely back to consciousness, and I looked up into the sneering, maliciously pretty face of Julie Marshall.

"They really did a god job on you!" I told her when I'd got my breath back. "There's really not much to choose between the three of you, is there? You're all about as sexually bent as it's possible to get!"

The girl softened her face into a smile. She said: "You should know, mister! What's your specialty - being a voyeur?"

"So far I've not had much chance to be anything else as far as you're concerned," I told her. "Remember any more lurid details about your schooldays lately, Julie?" I added, grinning at her.

"Phillipa told me you'd stolen the tape," Julie said. "It doesn't matter -". She tossed her head defiantly. "I don't care what anyone thinks about me - let alone your opinion, Mister Pry! To quote an old record: "Don't stop me now, I've got to where I like it!"

I shook my head sadly. "What a waste!" I said. "You were made for better things, Julie."

"Like you, for instance?" She laughed. Then she ran her eyes slowly over my naked body. "All right," she said suddenly. "I'll give you a little taster ... "

She stepped back from me and slowly began to sway her hips from side to side. Julie was wearing a short, pleated dark-blue skirt with a pair of flesh-coloured tights which clung snugly to her shapely legs. A pale blue, tight-fitting sweater made her tits stick out in two sharply pointed mounds which bobbled gently as the girl moved. "Let's have some music on, shall we?" Julie remarked. She went across to the record player and put an LP on the turntable. In a few moments the room was filled with the sounds of a soft, dreamy string orchestra.

Julie swayed gently back in front of me again, rolling her hips and staring seductively into my eyes. Although it was only late afternoon the curtains had been drawn and the room was bathed in soft reddish light emanating from two table lamps.

I watched the girl as she pirouetted for me, turning her body round so that her brief blue skirt flared up to give me quick, exciting views of her curvy bottom and thighs. She moved in time to the music, dancing slowly with graceful steps.

Then, still swaying her body slightly, Julie kept her feet planted firmly on the floor and started to run her hands down the front of her sweater, stroking past the prominent bulges of her breasts. Her fingers moved across to the zip at the side of her skirt. She wetted her lips and slid it very, very slowly down, then disengaged the press-stud which kept the garment up.

She wriggled her hips and legs sexily, making the skirt drop to the floor around her ankles. Her hands went up above her head in a long stretching movement which made the bulge in her crotch stand out even more significantly under the tight constraint of her fleshy-coloured tights.

Then Julie pulled the sweater up over her head and I was amazed to see that, despite the thrusting pointedness of her breasts, the girl wasn't wearing a brassiere!

Although my eyes were riveted on the amateur striptease being performed for me by the corrupted child, I noticed that both Wendy Parkington and Phillipa Richmond were watching the display with eager, avid attention. They were sitting on the settee together, leaning forward so as not to miss a single movement of their prot�g�e.

Wearing absolutely nothing but the pair of tights, Julie continued to sway with the music - letting her hands cross in front of her breasts and brush teasingly against the firmness of her titflesh. Then her fingers strayed to the elastic top of her tights and the girl hitched them up a little higher - deliberately making them bite excitingly into her soft, bulgy mons veneris.

She parted her lips and ran her pink wet tongue across them in an erotic combination of child-like innocence and blatant prick-teasing.

Simpering a little, Julie coyly turned her back to me, presenting me with a glorious view of her two jutting cheeks, cruelly held in tight check by the pasted-on undergarment. She swung her hips lightly, making the full, fleshy mounds wobble and twitch.

I itched to have my hands free and be able to sink my fingers deeply into the plump, inviting cheeks. Knowing this only too well, Julie deliberately backed up close to me - bending forward to make her bottom pout infuriatingly only a few brief inches away from my face.

Keeping in this position, the girl next placed her hands behind her back and, wiggling her arse from side to side, began to unroll the tights down off her sweet, wobbly hemispheres. The thin, taut material peeled downwards over Julie's arse, gradually - very gradually! - revealing the unblemished whiteness of the girl's smooth, fulsome cheeks.

Taking her own sweet time, Julie slowly pulled them down her thighs, lifting one leg at a time to tug them off. All the while she kept her back to me, giving me sly, too-brief glimpses of the closed pink lips which were situated just north of her bum-cheeks.

She turned her head to look over her shoulder at me. She was so close that I could hear her breathe - deliberately quick, panty gasps, as she straightened up and sighed sexily, bringing her hands round to rest on the velvet-textured skin of her ample buttocks.

She pressed her fingers firmly into them, lifting the heavy flesh upwards and then letting it fall back with jelly-like elasticity. "It that what you'd like to do to them, Mr. Prentice?" she asked me, adopting a childish lisp. She pulled the twin globes slightly apart and held them that way so that I was just able to see the faint pink hole of her anus.

"Would you hold them that far apart?" she continued in the same voice. Her eyes flickered innocently over my face. "Or would you want them to be open a little bit more?" And as she said this, Julie levered her buttocks even more widely apart, bringing the two minute but bulgy lips of her arsehole clearly into view.

She poked the parted cheeks of her bottom boldly in my face, brushing the silken-skinned orbs lightly across my cheeks. From between her legs came the familiar, arousing odor of a female in heat.

Then Julie moved away, still holding those deliciously curvy arse-cheeks apart. She jiggled them saucily and made her fingers slide down the deep velvet crease between them, stroking and tickling at the tiny, pert hole. She began to turn her body around to face me. "Would you like to see my front view, Mr. Prentice?" she asked, putting the question in an innocent but madly provocative tone of voice.

She glanced down my body and smiled secretly to herself as her eyes took in my already hard and throbbing cock. "My!" she remarked. "If just seeing my bare bottom gets you so worked up, what on earth will happen when I show you the rest of my charms?"

It was true. I could feel my prick twitching agonizingly upwards, the foreskin drawn back over the crown, the whole reddened knob pulsing with vigorous life. My mouth was dry. My pulse raced. I could feel the sweat beginning to break out on my forehead as I realized that Julie intended to taunt and titillate me in every possible way - without bringing me to orgasm.

The look in the girl's eyes as she began to turn with tantalizing slowness to face me, reinforced my worst fears. Before her triangular haired cunt came into my line of vision, Julie put her hand shyly over the place, pressing her fingers coyly into her bulgy quim.

She wagged the forefinger of her other hand at me in mock reproof. "Now, now, Mr. Prentice!" she giggled. "You mustn't expect me to show everything to you all at once!" Her fingers slipped away, just a mere fraction, until one fleshy pink lip came into view.

"Isn't that nice?" she asked. "Would you like to see all of it? Of course you would! Here, take a good, long look ... !!!"

And Julie slowly drew her fingers upwards, revealing the twin puffy lips of her cunt, with the long narrow slit running up its length. She pursed her mouth in mock-admonition; fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly.

Her fingers alighted on one of the hard, rosy protuberances that were her nipples. Absently, she pulled the thickened teat out from her breast, tweaking it between forefinger and thumb, rolling it casually around. At the same time, she made her legs part, adopting a wide stance with her feet so that the slit of her cunt opened slightly. I just didn't know where to direct my eyes: at the now completely visible gash of the girl's quim, or at the equally erotic spectacle of Julie toying with her own nipple so carelessly.

Julie let me ponder this dilemma for some minutes. Then she once more made her way towards me, this time dropping to her knees and resting her hands on my bare thighs. The girl stared up into my eyes. For the life of me I couldn't tell what sort of expression was in them. Certainly, obviously, they were filled with sexual desire, but of what sort? Was it simply physical lust, mixed with feminine sadism? Or was there, somewhere right at the back of those lovely and mysterious eyes, the faintest trace of awe and fright at the situation she found herself propelled into?

It took all of my will-power to stare her out. She dropped her eyes, apparently covering a sudden confusion by beginning to chatter away quickly, animatedly and reaching her fingers out until they almost - but not quite! - touched my prick.

"Mmmmm, Mr. Prentice! Your cock is very angry, isn't it? Gosh, it looks so red and fierce I'm afraid to touch it. Shall I, though? Would you like me to?" Her fingers trembled a matter of a few centimeters from my tormented weapon.

"Perhaps I'd better not ... " She withdrew her hand slightly. "Or shall I ... ?" And again she made her hand hover so infuriatingly near to my thrusting red tool. The fingers of her other hand began to stroke up and down the inside of my thigh, tickling at the short hairs which grew thickly there.

I just couldn't stand much more of this! I was panting loudly and I could feel a red blaze banking up behind my eyes. The bitch was driving me insane with her deliberately calculated teasing!

Relenting at last, probably realizing that she didn't really want a raving, mindless lunatic on her hands - (that would have spoilt her fun too soon) - Julie at long last let her fingers close over the thick joint of my prick. She squeezed it slowly and cautiously, her hands tightening gradually around the middle of the throbbing meat.

While her other hand continued to stroke and caress my parted thigh, Julie's cock-holding fingers began to slide up and down, making the slack foreskin cover the pointed crown and then stretch elastically back, revealing the angry red underside of my shaft.

Julie increased the tempo of her frigging until she was jerking her hand very quickly, shaking my prick, wanking the horny weapon with powerful and dynamic strokes.

She lowered her face towards it, opened her lips wide and began to blow heatedly on the ultra-sensitive, pulled-back rawness. The hot gusts of Julie's breath sent waves of maddened lust pulsating through my body. And when she finally bent her lips even closer and began to take my crown into the liquid, encompassing warmth of her mouth, I reached the seventh heaven of ecstasy.

Painstakingly, Julie sucked on my dick, drawing by gradual degrees the entire length into her hot, passionate mouth, lolling her tongue sensuously allover the thrusting, rock-hard core of my maleness.

I looked down and watched my prick sliding in and out of the girl's mouth, slipping satisfyingly between her moist red lips and driving deeply into the back of her throat. Her sharp, pointy teeth started to nibble on the stiff flesh. Julie took more and more exciting bites into my wet and tingling cock, feasting frenziedly on the tender, twitching prick which was trapped inside her sweet, gulping mouth.

I could feel my spunk boiling up inside me, waiting for that ecstatic moment when it can gather itself and shoot in a never-to-be-stopped spurt out through the pin-prick hole into creation.

But Julie, too, knew that my time was rapidly approaching. She timed the abrupt withdrawal of her lips with agonizing perfection.

As I was brought to the very brink of climax, the girl's sucking mouth was no longer there! I moaned and groaned loudly in terrible despair. All my efforts to thrust the spunk out on my own were futile ...

I sat there, bound helplessly to the chair, shaking my head from side to side in unbearably tense frustration. I leaned forward as far as my bonds would permit and spat viciously into Julie's face.

The girl jumped back, wiping her face and laughing loudly at me. "Did you like that then, Mr. Prentice?" She turned round and beckoned Wendy and Phillipa to come over. The three women stood looking down at me.

"I do feel rather sorry for him," Wendy said suddenly. "Julie - couldn't we all have a little fun with him? I mean, one of us could stand guard over him with the gun while we - er, while we got up to all sorts of interesting games with him!"

Julie took her time thinking this over. Then, grudgingly, she said: "All right, why not. Phillipa - you stand well away and keep the gun trained on him all the time. If you think he's going to do something silly, shoot him in the leg." She stared down at me. "Or anywhere else where it'll hurt without actually killing him."

Mrs. Richmond did as she was told. Then Julie moved behind me and untied the ropes binding my hands together. I rubbed the circulation back into the veins on my wrists, then bent to unfasten my ankles. My prick was still painfully erect, sticking thickly up in front of me, tense with unshed spunk.

Both Julie and I, of course, were already completed naked. Now Wendy began to strip off. Julie stopped her as the woman was about to undo her suspenders. "No, Wendy - I'd rather you kept your stockings and suspender belt on. You look much sexier like that."

Wendy blushed prettily and stole a quick glance downwards at her jet black girdle and sheer silk stockings. "Do you really think so?" she asked shyly. Julie nodded. "Lay down on the carpet, Wendy," she instructed. "I'm sure that Mr. Prentice will be glad to assist us in our fun and games." She turned to me. "Won't you, Mister Snooper? All right - sit down beside Wendy. You have my permission to play with her quim ... "

The domineering girl walked across to the sideboard as I settled myself next to Wendy. She lay quite passively, offering no resistance to me as I gently parted her thighs and slid my fingers into the soft curly hair of her slit. I stroked the lips apart and eased two of my fingers into her. Wendy's cunt was already very wet. Evidently the sight of Julie provoking and taunting me had excited her as much as it had me.

Julie returned and knelt down between Wendy's legs. 'She held in her hand the life-like imitation prick which I'd seen her use yesterday. "Recognize this, Mr. Prentice?" she asked me, sourly. "You can examine it at close quarters now, if you like."

I made no reply, continuing to work my fingers around inside Wendy's soft and sleek pussy. "That's enough!" Julie suddenly commanded. "I'll take over now. You can keep playing with her clitty but I want her tight little hole!"

I withdrew my fingers and rested them on Wendy's furry mons veneris. Julie stretched out at full length between the woman's widespread legs and pushed her mouth up against Wendy's quim, keeping her face at an angle so that it didn't interfere with my tickling of the woman's clitoris.

Julie began to kiss the damp, parted lips of Wendy's cunt with great passion. She worked her mouth intensely against the gaping red slit and slid her long tongue into the oily channel of the woman's vagina. Together, Julie and I worked Wendy up into a wriggling frenzy of excitement. She sucked and licked at the cunt proper, whilst I contented myself reluctantly with the top section of her gash, pinching and scratching at the fat red protuberance until Wendy's stockinged thighs twitched and drummed furiously; tensing and untensing, jerking uncontrollably as the woman reached ejaculation point.

I watched Julie slurping back the fatty cream which issued from Wendy's cunt-lips. The girl clenched her eyes tightly, gulping the love-juices down her throat with greedy, noisy swallows.

When the woman had obviously spent the last of her spunk, Julie removed her lips, licking her tongue around them and sucking in the few remaining trickles. The girl raised her body and looked at me. Her lovely young face was flushed with emotion. She kept her eyes firmly fastened on mine as she slowly strapped the dildo into position.

"Phillipa!" she called. Mrs. Richmond came to her side quickly. "It's your turn now," she said quietly. "Give the gun to Wendy." Mrs. Richmond passed the weapon to Miss Parkington, who got to her feet and backed away, pointing the gun at me with trembling fingers; both hands holding the barrel.

Julie got into position on top of Phillipa, forcing the woman's thighs apart and holding the dildo steady at the bushy entrance to her cunt. She began to push the thick rubber prick into the wide hole, slipping her free hand beneath Phillipa's body to lift and squeeze the bouncy balls of the woman's arse.

When the dildo was firmly installed in Mrs. Richmond's cunt, Julie turned to me. "You can rub yourself off on her tits," she said. "Take her blouse and bra off and get your cock pushed into those juicy breasts!"

Phillipa had merely tucked her skirt up and slipped her panties off. Even with her top half nude she would still be wearing far more clothes than the rest of us. I quickly unbuttoned the blouse and pulled it away from her bosom. Smiling, Mrs. Richmond raised herself slightly off the carpet, helping me to unhook her brassiere.

The straps were soon tugged down her smooth white shoulders and the cups lifted away from her breasts. I caressed her pink tipped globes for a few moments, then placed my prick across the one nearest to me.

I felt my cock sink luxuriously into the soft warm mound, the hard nipple throbbing at the tender underside of my pulsing, maddened penis. I was positioned sideways to the woman, my body lying over her so that together we formed a cross.

I started to rub myself up and down on the superb breast, making my cock slide over the wobbling flesh which would not be flattened. I let my face rest on the carpet and reached down under her stomach until my hand came into contact with Mrs. Richmond's other tit.

Fondling and crushing one breast, frigging my prick savagely into the other, I quickly felt myself reaching my long-delayed orgasm. Julie's tits were pressing into my back and I could feel the tickling sensation of her ripe young buds rubbing into my flesh ...

I realized that the girl was kissing Phillipa passionately, fucking her with the dildo and crushing her hot, red lips against the woman's in an insane lesbian mouth-caress.

My own lust mounted and mounted until I knew that it couldn't be contained a moment longer. With a roar of intense male fury, I felt my spunk starting to erupt. The hot fluid shot all over Phillipa's breasts, soaking my hand - which was still clenching the milky globe tightly.

My itching prick quivered and pulsed, spewing a steady spray of thick jellied sperm down Mrs. Richmond's chest. I rubbed the warm liquid into her nipple, feeling her squirming and shuddering under me as the action hastened her own climax.

I lifted myself off her body, temporarily sated but still unsatisfied. Exciting though the intimate contact with Phillipa's breast had been, I could feel my prick aching for a long, slow, thrilling insertion into Julie's unfucked (by me, at any rate) cunt.

I lay on the floor, watching as Julie brought the woman quickly to her orgasm. The dildo flashed roughly - crudely - in and out of the woman's red, juicy hole. Then Julie thrust it in to the hilt and left it stuck there, wiggling her hips to make the rubber cock twist meaningfully in Mrs. Richmond's deep, fully blocked up cunt.

The woman shuddered helplessly, pressing her crotch down on the large phallus and grinding her cunt-lips against the imposing rubber intruder. I saw Julie grab at the woman's breasts, turning and twisting them; flattening them firmly on Mrs. Richmond's chest, letting them wobble gently upwards again. She pinched and twiddled the hot, red nipples. Phillipa shook her head ecstatically from side to side, tensing herself and reaching the whole of her body up towards her climax ...

A few more seconds and she made it. The juice dripped abundantly from between her sore and well-frigged cunt-lips, oozing its damp, liquid way into Julie's pubic patch.

But Julie herself had brought the two women off with comparative calm. Methodically, clinically ... Her own emotions seemed so far to have been relatively untapped. She drew the dildo slowly out of Mrs. Richmond's cunt and put the lesbian wand to her mouth.

Keeping her eyes fixed on me, the girl began to lick the hot female spunk off the shaft. She ran the dildo across her lips, sideways, her mouth working slowly and sensually until the rubber prick was sucked completely dry again. Then she let it fall to the floor.

Julie kept looking at me. Her face was mask-like - it was impossible to guess at what was going on behind those icy, cynical eyes. We held the tableaux for what seemed like an eternity. Finally she said: "You'd like to fuck me, wouldn't you, Mr. Prentice!"

I didn't reply. I thought she was almost certainly beginning to torment me again and I wasn't going to play along with her.

"You can, you really can if you want to!" Julie whispered, leaning over towards me. Somehow, the electric nearness of this wayward and corrupted girl was getting under my skin. I could feel myself becoming aroused by her despite my better judgment. "What's the matter?" she continued in the same inviting, maddeningly seductive voice. "Don't tell me you're shy? Not of a little girl like me, surely?"

My self-control suddenly snapped and I reached out for her with hungry arms. Suddenly, I was completely unaware of the situation I was in. The nervous woman pointing a gun at me, her fingers shaking on the trigger, no longer mattered. If I died or was badly shot up in the process, I had to fuck the tormenting bitch!

I rolled over on top of the girl, our nude bodies pressing tightly together in a blurring flash of white, tangled limbs. Julie offered not the slightest resistance. She opened her legs and let me force my thighs in between hers.

My prick was once more throbbing to full erectness, and I could feel it starting to push firmly against Julie's wet, slippery cunt-lips. I ran my hands possessively up her body, stroking and rubbing her white, soft flesh.

My fingers closed roughly over the girl's taut, firm breasts, grabbing up wonderfully smooth handfuls of the uptilted globes. I clenched my fists over them, rudely and ruthlessly squeezing the soft, downy spheres. My fingers rubbed frantically at her piping, pointed cherries. I twisted and pulled at her nipples until they nearly came off. My full animal lust was violently aroused and I didn't feel I was making love to the girl so much as raping her!

I rammed my mouth savagely against hers, squashing our lips together in a wet, messy kiss. She opened her mouth and let my tongue enter, then began to bite wildly on it, her sharp white teeth opening and closing in quick, animal-like snaps over my lusting tongue.

I saw Julie's eyes close in bliss as I lunged forward with my hips - sending my cock firmly into her slick, wet cunt. I banged it home as hard as I could thrust it. The tightness of the girl's eager little hole was fantastic! I stayed still, deep inside it, breath coming unevenly, feeling my crotch rubbing against hers - my coarser hairs mingling into Julie's softer, silkier pubic mound.

Then I started to fuck her properly. My prick slid back out of her until it threatened to lose the adorable little cunt. But I urged it back into the wet slit, clenching my buttocks - straining steadily forward so that my cock sank once more into Julie's quim.

I rode her with a slow, mounting passion, taking my time - I was in no hurry now! - making the girl gradually respond to the rhythm of my fucking. I felt her crotch start to raise itself in time with my strokes and soon we were rising and falling together, making my prick ease its hot, throbbing way in and out of her thick-lipped cunt.

Until I felt her fingers close softly over my balls, I didn't realize that Mrs. Richmond was even near me. Then her long, probing fingers were caressing my testicles, juggling with the hard little balls inside their fleshy sack.

Phillipa stroked and petted them with an insistent, leisurely touch, at the same time working her other hand under my arse to tickle the very sensitive area between my cock and my shit-hole.

The sensation was incredibly sexy! I could feel my cock twitching and itching furiously and this in turn made me speed up the rhythm of entry into Julie's velvet honeypot. I fucked her with hard, piercing strokes - jamming my prick into those satin-soft sugar lips with a mad, uncaring passion.

My senses were again leaving me as I concentrated all my effort, all my mind, on the sole purpose of thrusting my cock in and out of that tight soaking pussy. I broke my lips away from Julie's mouth and sank my teeth into the white curve of the girl's shoulder. I was still gripping her tits tightly and in my mounting delirium it seemed to me that I held between my teeth yet another breast. I opened my lips as wide as possible and got as much of her smooth-fleshed shoulder into my mouth as possible.

Mrs. Richmond's fingers were playing and pinching at my balls. Julie leaned her head forward so that she could start kissing and biting at my ear. I let out a long moan of ecstatic anguish as I felt her tongue slither unstoppably into my ear hole. She darted the wet, teasing, quivering morsel right into me, licking around and around with quick cat-like laps.

It was more than I could stand. I slammed my cock with about ten short, sharp stabs into the bowels of her cunt - and felt another gush of thick sperm course its way into her womb.

My prick throbbed violently, the spunk streaming from its tip in a boiling, volcanic eruption. I crammed my weapon to its hilt in Julie's welcoming cunt. The girl's love-juices spilled out of her hollow tube and I felt the hot fluid running heedlessly all down my cock.

It felt as if an eternity had passed before the flopping-out of my prick from Julie's clinging cunt brought me back to reality.

Chapter TEN

I let my body slide over on the floor beside Julie's. I took several deep breaths and then got slowly to my feet. Both Julie and Mrs. Richmond were still sprawled on the carpet. Wendy was half-sitting on the arm of the settee. I began to walk slowly towards her.

She raised the gun, pointing it at arms' length. "All right, Wendy," I said softly. "The little charade is over. Give me the gun." She was trembling. Her fingers shook as she tried to hold the weapon steady.

I advanced across the room towards her and she backed nervously away until her bare buttocks pressed into the wall. The woman's thighs were parted, her stockinged legs giving me a renewed thrill as I walked steadily forward.

"I'll shoot!" she threatened. "Please don't come any nearer - I warn you, I'll fire - I will, I'll shoot you ... "

I reached my hand out for the gun. "I don't think so, Wendy," I told her. "You're not the one who's got anything to lose - are you?"

I gently disengaged her fingers from the gun and lifted it away from her. The next instant Julie's body hurtled into me from behind, knocking me off balance - her nails clawing at my face.

Her fingers raked down my left cheek, scoring deeply and drawing blood. I staggered backwards. She was after me like a tiger, trying to get her nails in my eyes; her knee jerking up into my balls. We fell to the floor as I tripped over a coffee table, Julie scratching and biting at my face, fighting like an alley cat.

The gun spun out of my hand as I tried to catch her wrists and stop those wickedly sharp fingernails from doing any more damage.

"Quick - Phillipa!" Julie screamed. "Get the gun! Hurry! Get it!!"

Mrs. Richmond came scrambling towards us. I flung my arm across my face, then violently swung it forward again smashing my elbow into Julie's pretty, contorted face. The impact sent the girl flying off my body, half-senseless.

As Mrs. Richmond's hand clutched for the gun, I threw my body into hers - knocking her to the floor, breasts jiggling freely. I quickly snatched up the gun myself and clicked the chamber open. The bullets dropped to the carpet and I slung the gun across the room.

Julie's mouth was bleeding profusely. She lay with her knees drawn up, sobbing in impotent rage. Wendy Parking-ton was biting on the knuckles of her clenched fist. I smiled at her. "Everything's all right now, Wendy," I said. "I won't let them bother you any more!"

The woman took her hand away from her mouth and began to cry. "But don't you see?" she sobbed. "I can't live without them! I need them so much!" I walked over to her and put my arm around her shoulders, trying to soothe her. She buried her face in my chest.

"They made me do such terrible things!" she cried. "They pretended to be so nice to me, so loving ... And I was so lonely! And then, gradually, they persuaded me to pose for photos, make dirty films ... "

Slowly, in between bouts of crying, Wendy Parkington repeated exactly the same story that Julie had told me. Only this time I knew it was the truth.

Wendy had been the corrupted one. It was Julie and Phillipa Richmond who had taken the hungry, sex-starved woman and ingratiated themselves into her life, introducing her to all the perverted sex kicks which their evil minds could dream up. Mostly, it had been purely for amusement; though there was, of course, quite a lot of money to be made out of peddling the blue movies and photographs in which Wendy had appeared.

And the tape recordings? Julie had made them solely for the purpose of exciting Wendy; releasing her inhibitions so that the woman was ready to do anything to please her "corruptors".

Then, one day Julie and Phillips had grown tired of their prot�g�e. Or maybe they'd simply milked her of her usefulness to them. At any rate, they left her. And Wendy had, in her desperate addiction to the pair, dreamed up the idea of hiring a private detective to return her wayward "ward" to her - knowing that Julie wouldn't dare to reveal the truth to him.

It had been a pure coincidence that Wendy had telephoned me. Mrs. Richmond's story that she herself had "recommended me" was, of course, a very convenient lie.

But as soon as I'd left her house, after agreeing to bring Julie back to her, Wendy Parkington had had second thoughts. Her scheme, which she'd thought up in a state of panic, would only alienate her more completely from Julie, she realized. And so she telephoned the girl and told her that she'd sent me after her.

The rest of the story fell easily into place. Julie had tried to frighten me off by getting me beaten up. When that didn't work, she pretended that she was the poor, frightened innocent who couldn't bear to be sent back to the wicked woman who'd forced her to do such unspeakable things.

"When you brought her back last night," Wendy finished. "Julie was furious with me. While you were upstairs in the bathroom I told her I'd do anything to make amends. I promised her that I'd help punish you for what you'd done. I was so desperate!" she cried. "I was so hungry for their type of sex - I'd have done anything to get it!"

Julie had been listening to the confession and watching Wendy Parkington contemptuously. Now, she got to her feet and put her hands on her hips defiantly. "The poor cow can't do without me!" she sneered. "Can't you see that? I'm like a drug to her - she's got to have me regularly!"

"It's true!" Wendy sobbed. "No matter what happens, I must let her do whatever she likes with me!"

Julie looked at me triumphantly. "You see?" she said. "There's nothing you can do about it! Last night I knew I had to go even further than I'd been before to make sure that Wendy didn't blab the whole story to you. But now it doesn't matter!"

The girl strutted over and stood by my side, looking up into my face with undisguised, frank malice. "It doesn't matter because now we've got you just where we want you, Mister Pry! You don't really imagine, do you, that Phillipa let you fuck her that first time just out of passion?"

Julie laughed loudly. "Phillipa told you that photography was one of her hobbies, didn't she? Well, her maid was taking pictures of the pair of you. Just for amusement, of course. But the ways things have turned out, they're going to be very useful!

"They were only developed a short while ago - we wanted to make sure they came out O.K. before we threatened you with them. And that mightn't even have been necessary if you hadn't been so bloody nosy!"

"Threaten me with them?" I asked. My ego had taken quite a blow at this revelation. I didn't like to think of myself being used like that. Seduced just to get some obscene photos shot on the cheap.

"That's right," Julie replied. "If you try to interfere any more in things that don't concern you, I'll make sure all your prospective clients get copies of the photos. I don't think that anyone in distress would want to employ a private detective who poses for dirty pictures on the side!"

I shook my head wearily. "Lady," I said, "I don't have any intention of showing the slightest interest in what you -" I jerked my head at Phillipa Richmond - "or she do. Believe me, for all I care you can fuck each other silly with those goddamn rubber pricks."

I started to get dressed. Julie and Mrs. Richmond watched me in silence. I tied my tie and slipped my jacket on.

Wendy Parkington came towards me. "What about me?" she asked in a small, quavering voice. "What's going to happen to me?"

"Ask them," I said shortly. She turned to Julie. "You're not going to leave me, are you?" she pleaded. "Not now - not now that everything's turned out all right?" Wendy grasped Julie by the girl's shoulders and pressed up against her, squashing her breasts into Julie's own nude tits.

"You didn't mean it when you said you'd only given me such a thrill last night to keep me quiet, did you? Did you?" she demanded, passion and urgency in her voice.

Julie kept her hands to her sides. She looked Wendy coolly in the eyes. "It's all over, darling," she said, simply. "There's such a thing as over-exposure, you know. And I'm afraid that you're suffering from it!"

Wendy began to cry again. She clung to Julie helplessly, hugging the girl's naked body to her own. Her hands slipped down Julie's back until they cupped the globes of the girl's buttocks. She squeezed them in her fingers and began to rub her breasts sideways into Julie's, making their nipples touch.

Firmly, Julie disengaged herself from the woman's clutching embrace. She said, "You'd better get dressed and get out of here, Wendy."

The woman raised her eyes. Julie shrugged her shoulders. "I mean it," she said with absolute finality. Wendy started to dress herself quickly and picked up her handbag. As she started silently for the door, I said. "Wendy!"

She turned and looked at me. The warmth in her eyes seemed to have retreated - perhaps forever. I walked over to her. "I'll take you home," I took her arm gently and opened the door. It seemed the least I could do for her.

"Oh, very touching!" Julie sneered. "Look at the gallant gentleman! Better watch out, Wendy - he's only after a cheap piece of cunt!"

"You know something?" I said to Julie, pausing at the open door. "I don't think you were lying after all when you told me that you were the one who'd been corrupted. Someone must have got to you when you were very, very young. Tell me - was Miss Hopkins her real name?"

"Get out, you bastard!" she shouted at me.

Perhaps I shouldn't have done it, God knows I didn't get any real satisfaction out of saying it. But the words came out almost without my intending them to.

"Wendy gave me a photograph of you, Julie. There was another girl in it - very indistinct, right in the background ... "

"Shut up! Shut up!!"

I carried on, raising my voice above her shouting. "On the back were the words 'J. and S. London. 1964'. There was a Stefanie, wasn't there, Julie? And the two of you did do all the things you related on the tape, didn't you? And she was your sister. Wasn't she, Julie?"

The girl was breathing heavily, violently. Her face was ashen and her whole body was shaking. She opened her mouth but couldn't get any words out.

I closed the door and took Wendy home.

THE END
Corruption ....(94k)    by Jack R. Kenney




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