Destiny! Is it choice or design? This powerful question is one which has haunted mankind since its beginning. In an explosive novel of intense literary insight, novelist Jon Stanton has created a cast of characters who play out this question in a drama so realistic that it won't be soon forgotten. That a person behaves according to choice is a theme of utmost importance to contemporary man. What happens when one turns aside from the well-ordered life of day-to-day existence and accepts the challenge of personal choice? Only in a novel of great sensitivity can such an important question as individual freedom, so necessary to the American way of life, be handled with the psychological insight that author Stanton has shown in The Ravished Girlfriend.
When a young woman is exposed to the seamier side of life, especially one not expecting to face anything more challenging than a three-day real-estate convention, the confusion of being forced to participate in a trap of sexual enslavement becomes like a nightmare of horror and fear. How does someone so unprepared handle a situation of cruel violence and unsuspecting assault? The heroine of Mr. Stanton's newest novel turns desperately to an old girlfriend, only to find that evil lurks in places of past security. The world and people change at an ever-increasing rate and it's the responsibility of the individual to choose freedom.
The honesty and frankness of this story may shock you with its realistic language and bold presentation of human response to conflict, but it's one that you can't afford to miss. A young woman sets out on an adventure that turns into much more than she had planned. She's faced with betrayal and evil, and through it all she must find a way to deal with it.
This story also deals with the psychology of self-direction. Each person must find his own path through the wilderness. In this case the wilderness takes us through the plush environment of a large hotel during a real-estate convention. But this story could happen anywhere. And to anyone. It's a story that concerns us all. Only by facing the truth of the world around us can man learn to cope with reality. Nothing must be hidden or ignored. The bigot must be brought forward and examined, for it's only through such close scrutiny, as more and more light is shed on the problems of evil, that the light of truth shines through.
Conflict grows to an unbelievable crescendo as the author plunges the characters of The Ravished Girlfriend into scene after scene of nerve-tingling tension. Horrors of the past are mingled with the greed of the present. And the heroine discovers that she's all alone in a hostile environment with no one to turn to other than to herself. She's forced to deal with problems of sexual desire that she had never before dreamed would concern her. She's forced to cope with long days and nights of both mental and physical ravishment.
This is the story of life in its most basic form, broken down to harsh realities. But primarily, this is a story of struggle ... the struggle of choice. Never before has this gripping subject been presented to the reader in a more compelling or frighteningly real narrative of sexual ravishment and mental despair. This novel is a must reading for the modern reader.
Destiny ... the fear of the unknown grips us all. The future is out there waiting-for what we don't know, but we do know that the choice is ours to face it or to run from it. We direct our life or it is directed for us. This novel plunges a young woman into a web of greed and lust so challenging that she's brought to the very brink of destruction.
It is with great pleasure that we present Jon Stanton's exciting novel, The Ravished Girlfriend.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
At six fifteen Wednesday evening, Brenda Martin hurried across the lobby of the Plaza Hotel and checked in with the desk clerk.
"I'm here for the Real Estate Convention," she said, signing the registration card. She handed the pen back to the clerk and flipped a loose strand of shiny blonde hair away from her face. "I drove all the way from Ridgecrest and my air condition went out in the middle of the desert," she said. "It must have been a hundred and twenty degrees." Beads of perspiration glistened on her attractive face. "I was afraid I was going to be late," she said, smiling.
The desk clerk appreciated the way her damp, white blouse clung to her pointed breasts, their nipples clearly out-lined through the fabric, but Brenda failed to notice his lustful eyes as she took the key he handed her for Room 314 and hurried toward the elevators. The bellhop struggled to keep up with her as more than one male head turned to watch her figure move through the lobby.
Brenda pressed the up button just as the elevator doors opened. She waited anxiously as the passengers exited. She hadn't expected to recognize anyone on the elevator, but the last person to walk out sent a surprised chill shooting up Brenda's spine. Her breath froze in her throat as she stilled a surprised gasp. Her purse dropped to the floor, spilling its contents. Her face flushed and she quickly bent to her knees to retrieve them.
Oh, my God! I don't believe it's happening, she thought. Her heart raced wildly in her breasts and forced shameful memories of the past into vivid consciousness. Her eyes blurred before her, causing her to grope blindly for her spilled articles. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and forced herself to concentrate on finding her scattered items. The bellhop hurried to help. Brenda was afraid to look up in fear the man had recognized her. She saw her keys on the carpet to her right, but as she reached for them, a highly polished black shoe planted itself on one of the keys in the ring and remained there.
She tugged gently on one of the keys but instead of the foot being removed, the man pressed the keys even more firmly to the floor. Her chin quivering, Brenda looked up from the servile position she found herself kneeling in. The man had positioned himself so that both of his feet were on either side of her, and to see his face, Brenda was forced to strain her neck back which put her face only inches away from the center of his spread legs.
Brenda looked into the cold, ice-blue eyes of Charles Stern. She didn't see the man as he was now, standing above her in a tailored two-hundred-dollar suit and resting his fists confidently on his hips. Brenda saw a seven-year-old memory....
* * *
She was kneeling naked, her head bowed, on thick, white-shag carpeting in the bedroom of Charles Stern's apartment. He stood above her, commanding her in a deep, sensuous voice. His words seemed to draw out her very will from her body and controlling her to the point that she strained to comprehend the orders involved in each word. "You love it, baby. You love to have my big stiff cock rammed up your cunt, don't you? Look up here," his hypnotic voice ordered. "Look up here and tell me how much you want to be fucked."
Brenda lifted her eyes, feeling the shame and humiliation of it all, but unable to resist. She wanted to do his bidding. She had never seen a man so physically appealing before. His tawny, well-muscled legs rose to trim hips supporting a thick chest out of which bulged muscular arms that were capable, she had heard, of delivering a judo chop strong enough to break six bricks at a time. But her eyes weren't ordered to admire his body. "Look at my cock," he ordered. And when she did, she realized his fearfully gigantic penis was even more magnificent than his body. But it would kill me, she thought with horror. It would rip me in two. Still, the sight of it caused the delicate pink of her inner pussy to swell and turn dark with desire. The massive base of his prick bulged out of his crotch like a third leg, rising out and up into a throbbing pole crowned with a shining purple head. From her position under him, the head of his penis reminded Brenda of an inverted, succulent, candy heart. "You love it," he had told her in his hypnotic voice. As soon as he had spoken, Brenda's mouth began to salivate with desire-she could almost taste its fruit on her tongue. His testicles swung between his legs like two large lemons, the delicious comparison causing Brenda's mouth to water even more. The desire to lick them, to fondle them with her tongue, to suck them into her mouth became almost unbearable. She wanted to tantalize them with her fingertips and to press them against the deep-red nipples of her breasts.
"From this moment on," Charles commanded, "every time you see my cock you won't be satisfied until you have it crammed up to the hilt in your pussy. You love it, baby, and you've got to have it."
* * *
Now kneeling on the lobby carpet of the Plaza Hotel, Brenda shook her head in an attempt to erase the image of the past, to wipe out the humiliation of her body to respond to an experiment she had regretfully agreed to seven years before on the only blind date she had had then or at any time since then. But it was impossible. Either from the suggestion given to her while under the influence of the hypnotic state she had allowed herself to be trapped into without realizing the terrible consequences, or from the memory of the first time she had ever made love, Brenda realized she was hornier than she had ever been before. Oh, dear God! she thought. I want him to fuck me! She could hardly stand the satiny texture of her panties caressing the rhythmic pulsing of her enflamed vagina. No! No, no, no! Don't let this happen to me! she pleaded with herself.
Mercifully the bellhop had collected all of her spilled items except the key ring which Charles bent over and picked up himself. He didn't offer to help her to her feet nor did he hold out the key ring to her. He stood chuckling, her keys held in one of his clenched fists as the bellhop assisted her to her feet.
Brenda brushed at her skirt, feeling the eyes of the entire lobby on her and wishing she could inconspicuously crawl away. She tried to walk around Charles and flee into the refuge of the open elevator, hoping against hope that he didn't recognize her as the young college freshman he had tricked into his bed seven years before, but as she went past him, he reached out and gripped her upper arm between steel-like fingers.
"Not so fast, Brenda," he said, completely at ease and in charge of the situation. He lowered his voice to a confidential whisper.
But despite its overt friendliness, Brenda detected a trace of coldness-a hint that he wasn't a person to be taken lightly. And the fact that he had not only recognized her face but that he also remembered her name surprised her.
"If you'd get that pretty little quivering chin of yours off your big tits," he teased, "you might realize that we've met before."
She looked up and, as before, she became mesmerized by his eyes that reminded her of Paul Newman and by the manly ruggedness of his face.
"I remember you," she hissed, trying uselessly to pull her arm free without attracting any more attention than they were already receiving from other people in the lobby. "Now let me go!"
"Let you go!" he laughed, this time allowing his voice to carry as far as the bellhop. "I haven't seen you in years and all you can say is let me go!" He became confidential again. "And after the good time we had together." He held her away from him in order to fully appreciate the voluptuous package she had turned into since the last time he had seen her. "Mmmm, you were good before but you look even riper now." He pulled her closer to him, gripping her arm even tighter and turning her so that the back of his right hand rested against the side of her left breast. "We'll have dinner together," he stated.
Brenda tried to protest, saying, "I'm engaged now. It wouldn't be right." But he only laughed and hustled her into the elevator where he handed the bellhop a five-dollar bill and told him to see that she had everything she needed. Then he was gone, marching away from her at a brisk pace toward the main entrance. She watched the back of him until the elevator doors closed, cutting him from her vision and leaving her alone with the bellhop.
"Mr. Stern is some guy," the bellhop said, admiringly.
Brenda wanted to respond to him, to question him further about Charles, but it took every single ounce of her control to prevent the bellhop from noticing the frustrated sexual condition she was in. It's ridiculous, she thought. Calm down! Get hold of yourself. It will go away. He can't have a spell over you that would last that long. Brenda pressed her purse against her breasts and vowed that whatever she did, she wouldn't give in to the fantasies of sexual abandonment that played like a movie in her mind. But somehow, somehow she had to find a way to release the burning tension that grew ever more demandingly inside of her. She heard over and over in her mind the words he had spoken so long before, "You love it, baby. You've got to have it."
by the time the bellhop unlocked the door to her room and she followed him inside, she was perspiring freely despite the hotel's air conditioning. Her clothes stuck to her lewdly and the only thing she could think of was getting them off and wash away the effect Charles had on her, by standing under a cold shower. Impatiently she waited for the bellhop to go through the routine of placing her suitcases on a luggage stand, adjusting the blinds and air conditioner and asking if there was anything else he could do for her.
When he was finally gone, Brenda closed and locked the door behind him, grateful to be alone at last. She turned and leaned against the door, her breath coming in deep, burning gasps. She tore at the buttons on her blouse, pulling it away from her throat. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes as her heart pumped blood, on fire with desire, through her veins.
What would her fiance do if he knew another man could make her body ache with lustful desire simply by standing in front of her? Resolutely she straightened her shoulders and walked into the bathroom. A cold shower would make her all right again. She would take a hundred if she had to, but she would not allow herself to be controlled by Charles Stern.
Eagerly now, she began removing her clothes, telling herself if she hurried she would be able to get down to the Crest Room by seven o'clock, in time for the first program on the Convention's three-day schedule. She dropped her skirt and blouse on the marble vanity. As she reached behind her to unhook her bra, she saw her reflection in the floor-length mirror dominating one end of the room. I look like an animal, she thought. An animal in heat. She slid her bra straps from her shoulders and watched the cruel image of her own body deceiving her.
Slowly she let her bra drop to the floor. Her heavy breasts, glistening with perspiration, stood out from her body like rich melons tipped with succulent pink nipples. They begged for attention. Faster now, Brenda rolled her white bikini panties down over her bare shapely legs. With her feet slightly spread, Brenda drew her fingertips up from the center of her inner thighs. A gasp escaped her throat as her fingers rose higher and higher until they touched the dark heavy curls covering her pussy cleft. As the index finger of her right hand drew between her cuntal lips, Brenda's body convulsed in a spasm of sensual bliss, her hips ground forward against her fingertip, her head rolled back. She bit into her lower lip and concentrated on the urgent message of her body as her index finger gently caressed her already-alert clitoris.
Her body began to rock back and forth in front of the mirror as though on its own. She groaned. Oh, my God! I want this. I need it. Her finger began working faster, dancing on the glistening pink node of her erect clitoris. Yet a voice inside her cried out for control, but the thought of Charles Stern standing nude above her severed the remaining threads of her resistance.
"I WANT IT! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" she cried out, her eyes closed to the shameful reflection she saw in the mirror, her mind on the image of Charles' massive penis buried within her wanton cunt. Brenda spread the quivering lips of her pussy with the palms of her hands and, stretching them cruelly, ground her hips sensuously toward the mirror. Her teeth released her lower lip and her tongue came out and moistened her lips with its tip. "Oooohhhh ... ooooohhhh!" she panted. She ran her fingertips over the delicate pink of her inner vagina, coating her clitoris with the fragrant free-flowing juices from her pussy. Her hips ground rhythmically toward the mirror, her arms pressing her voluptuous breasts together to form a deep cleft, down which drops of perspiration trickled.
As the promise of a volcanic orgasm bubbled up from her center, burning hotter and hotter within, Brenda increased the speed of her fingers stabbing cock-like in and out of her cunt. Her breath hissed through pursed lips as the sensuous fire encompassed her entire body. She gulped great heaving gasps of air, her breasts rose and fell. "I'm almost there!" she screamed as she opened her love-starved eyes, defiantly welcoming the churning image of her frantic contortions.
And then like a cosmic explosion, Brenda convulsed into a God-sent orgasm of staggering intensity. Her knees buckled and she sank to the cold tile of the bathroom floor as wave after wave of orgasmic release tore through her body. "I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING ... Aaaaaa!" Her body crumpled backward, her legs tucked painfully under her, her knees spread, lewdly reflecting her greedy pussy smeared with the glistening delight of her love juices.
As her climax subsided, Brenda lay spent on the floor, too exhausted even to straighten her legs under her. Her fingers lingered in the moist curls covering her pussy. Her breathing slowed as a last grateful sigh escaped her throat.
It was a long time before Brenda found the strength to roll over and stagger to her feet. Her legs felt rubbery and her head swam dizzily. She clutched the towel rack near the tub for support and stood giddily waiting for her head to clear. She walked out of the bathroom and checked the time by her wrist watch lying on the dresser. She was already late for the opening program, but it had been worth it.
While the relief she had experienced had somewhat relieved her tension, it hadn't been the complete experience she needed. What she needed, she realized, was a huge cock rammed to the hilt in her pussy. But at least now she would have the control to wait until she returned home to her fiance. And then Ross would make everything right for her.
Decisively, now she hurried back into the bathroom and turned on the cold water in the shower. As she stood under it, she felt the stinging spray wash away the heat and frustration of her long car trip from Ridgecrest and the remains of her partially depleted passion that matted the fleecy curls of her love nest. When she stepped out of the shower, she toweled herself vigorously until her creamy skin glowed pinkly. She dressed hurriedly, gathered up her purse and stepped into the lobby.
As she pushed the button for the elevator that would take her down to the Real Estate Convention, she realized the next three days wouldn't be spent in the carefree way she had originally anticipated. If she wanted to keep herself pure for Ross, she would somehow have to avoid any further contact with Charles Stern.
CHAPTER TWO
As Brenda hurried across the lobby, she knew that what she needed was someone to talk to. She needed that now more than anything she could think of. But she didn't expect to find anyone at the Convention she would know. In fact, the only person she had ever known who lived in the city was Sandy Treeman and she hadn't had any contact with Sandy since college.
Brenda hesitated, debating with herself whether she should call Sandy or not. She didn't even know for sure if Sandy still lived in the city, but it wouldn't hurt to see if she was listed in the telephone book. If anyone would be able to tell her what she should do, it would be Sandy. Sandy had always had a way with men.
She changed directions in the middle of the lobby and headed for the phone. She dropped a dime in the slot and closed the door. Brenda failed to notice the sleazily dressed man watching her from the entrance to the corridor leading to the Crest Room.
She dialed information and asked for Sandy Treeman's number, breathing a sigh of relief when a number was given to her. With fingers crossed that Sandy would be home, she dialed the number. The phone rang five times and Brenda was about to hang up when she heard the phone at the other end of the line being lifted from its cradle and a throaty voice, sounding as though the person answering was just coming out of a deep sleep, said, "Hello, whoever you are, you've caught me in the middle of something. Try me in twenty minutes."
"Sandy? ... Sandy, it's me. Brenda Martin."
"Who?"
"Brenda Martin. We went to school together."
It took a moment before Sandy remembered her, and then her voice came alive. "I remember you," she said. "My God, how long has it been? Five years?"
"Closer to seven," Brenda said, excited now that Sandy remembered her and seemed just as friendly as she had been in school. Brenda explained about the convention and how she hoped they would be able to get together later in the evening for a drink.
Brenda blushed at how easily Sandy had detected her concern. "I'll tell you about it later," she said. They made an appointment to meet at ten o'clock in the hotel's lounge.
When Brenda stepped out of the booth and began walking back across the lobby floor toward the Crest Room, the man who had been watching her straightened his tie and waited for her, his face twisted into an evil smirk showing broken, uneven teeth.
* * *
Sandy hung up the phone and turned back to the John lying naked on her bed, his legs spread obscenely, his arms folded behind his head. "Another client?" he smirked.
She ignored his comment and postured her body sensuously in the filmy, black negligee she was wearing before moving slowly across the room toward him, allowing him to get his eyes full of her pert, pointed breasts that danced under the see-through material as though they had a life of their own. The more aroused he became, the easier would be her job of finishing him off. She watched his flaccid penis coming erect as she neared him. She licked her lips and smiled, beginning to get in the mood for her job.
The telephone call had interrupted the progress she had already made with her John, but she was excited to hear from someone from the old group of people she had known in school. And although ten o'clock was her prime working time, she needed a night off and for the first time in weeks, she found herself really looking forward to keeping an appointment.
She sat on the bed next to him and trailed the fingertips of her right hand up the inside of his thighs. He moaned at her touch and spread his legs even further apart in an-attempt to allow her hands to his cock. She moved her fingers to his balls which were drawn up close to his body and raked them gently with her fingernails, stretching them up over the base of his now-engorged penis and letting them fall with a plop back onto the sheets between his legs.
"How do you want it?" she cooed, tracing her fingers up the stiff pole of his manhood, feeling the veins of his penis pulsing with blood.
"Suck it!" he ordered. "Cram it in your mouth and suck me dry. I want you to eat my cum."
Sandy knew when she had a winner. She leaned over and whispered tantalizingly in his ear. "You want it to last a long, long time?" He nodded eagerly. "You want something really special?" In his passion-enflamed state he was willing to agree to anything ... even to double the price. Sandy not only knew when she had a winner (a John that would come back time after time), but she also knew exactly what kind of a winner she had. This one sounded like a tough guy, but years of experience told Sandy that it was an act he put on because he was afraid someone would find out exactly what he really was like. And what that was she was pretty sure she knew.
Sandy stood up from the bed and flipped back her straight black hair until it hung out of her way down to the center of her back. She allowed the softness to be replaced in her face by a look of severity; her posture and demeanor took on superiority and dominance. "I'm glad to hear you want me to eat your cum because that's exactly what I'm going to do," she said, crossing the room and opening the bottom drawer of a dresser. When she stood up she held four strands of nylon rope, each about three feet long, in her left hand. Then she slowly pushed the bottom drawer of the dresser closed with her big toe, conscious of her John's curious eyes on her back. Keeping her back to him, she placed the ropes on the dresser in front of her and looked at herself in the mirror against the wall.
Sandy timed her movements carefully, keeping everything in slow motion for the benefit of her john. First she untied the string of her negligee. She wore only a pair of black bikini panties underneath. Her large voluptuous breasts were covered only by the edges of the negligee. She rolled her panties down to her knees, keeping her legs straight, and then stepped out of the left leg by bringing her knee up, toes pointed, until the panties fell free of her foot and slid gracefully down the calf of her right leg. She turned around and faced the john, resting her palms on the edge of the dresser and allowing her negligee to fall open so that he could see her completely nude except for where her negligee covered her shoulders. She spread her legs slightly and kept her back arched and her breasts high.
She watched his reaction closely. Next, she picked up the four strands of rope and held them dramatically out at shoulder height in her out stretched right hand, palms up, fingers straight, the strands held between thumb and palm. When she spoke, her voice was stern and throaty.
"And to make sure I get what I want from you, I'm going to tie you up first."
She lowered her right hand, letting the ropes dangle from her fist like a white whip. She began moving toward the bed, slowly, stalking it like a cat, taking small, suspenseful steps, her eyes burning into his, forcing him to look away. She didn't fail to notice how his breathing now came in quick, short, stabbing inhalations or how his toes coiled and uncoiled against the bed.
When she reached the corner of the bed by his right foot, she stopped and separated one of the strands from the rest, and holding the single strand in her left hand, she threw the other three against his penis. The rope slapped against his flesh with a whipping sound and caused his engorged phallus to swell even thicker.
"Oh, my God," he groaned. "You'll hurt me!"
Sandy tied his right ankle securely to the frame under the mattress. He offered no resistance. Then she moved to the foot of the bed and crawled between his spread-eagled legs on her knees. She reached for a second strand of rope from the pile that was now tangled around his cock. Selecting a strand that appeared to be more tangled around his penis than the rest, she said, "If you don't cum enough for me, I will hurt you!" And then she jerked the rope free from the rest, causing his stiff tool to jerk painfully as the rope burned its way loose. He cried out in shock but he didn't make any effort to stop her.
"You love it, don't you?" she taunted.
"Don't hurt me ... just promise you won't hurt me!"
"I don't make promises," Sandy snapped, tying his left ankle in the same manner that she had his right. Sandy knelt on the bed beside him and removed the ropes from around his cock. "Oh, poor baby. Did I hurt you," she cooed to his penis. She stroked it with her fingers, running them over his balls and up the blood-engorged shaft to the purplish crown, shining with desire. She hefted his balls in the palm of her left hand, weighing them, testing their size and then very carefully she began squeezing them delicately between her fingers, watching his face for reaction.
"If I don't get enough cum out of these, I'm going to squeeze them until they turn to jelly," she threatened. And then she let them drop with a smack against his ass. His responsive groan was pure pleasure.
She ordered him to stretch both his arms out to the corners of the bed, and when he did, she tied his wrists to the bed's frame as she had tied his ankles. She stepped back and observed her handy work. He was completely spread-eagled to the bed, helpless. She could do anything she wanted to him and he would be powerless to stop her. It was a feeling Sandy enjoyed, having a man helpless in front of her.
Sandy looked at the clock on the dresser. If she wasn't going to accept anymore appointments that night, she had a lot of time to kill before she was scheduled to meet Brenda at the Plaza Lounge. She might as well take her time and enjoy this trick. It had been a long time since she had found anyone who had turned her on. This john wasn't exactly her type but at least she could use him.
She pushed her negligee from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Walking over to the dresser again, she opened a cigarette box, extracted one and lit it from a phallic-shaped lighter. Then she turned around and leaned back against the dresser, resting her palms on its edge as she had done before.
"I'm going to use you," she said, "to satisfy myself."
This time when she crossed the room and crawled onto the bed, she straddled his waist with her knees, but before she settled onto his cock she began playing with her cunt with her fingertips as he watched the excitement growing in both of them. She massaged the hair-lined lips of her pussy, the electric touch of her fingers shooting inflamed desire surging deeply into her cunt. She spread her pussy and stroked its center, toying with the pink node of her clitoris until her cunt was bathed in the fragrant juices of her lust.
She settled her firm buttocks onto the top of his thighs and pressed the shaft of his penis in the cleft-like valley of her pussy. She ground her hips over him, feeling the heat from his engorged sex burning into the delicate, sensitive center of her love garden. Her tonguetip came out and wet her lips, her head rocked back and a groan of pleasure escaped from her throat.
"Oooohhh ... that feels so good," she panted. She increased the speed of her pelvis and the deep, racing of her breath began to match that of his.
She held her cigarette between her fingers. Her body throbbed with so much passion and her breathing was so erratic that she could hardly talk. "If you don't cum for me before this cigarette burns down," she threatened, "I'm going to put it out on your balls."
Sandy's threat brought the hoped-for reward of feeling his penis, dripping with the boiling lubricants of her body, inflame itself into the rigidity of a metal tool. He pulled with his arms and legs against the ropes binding him to the bed; his head rocked back and forth to the tempo of Sandy's thrusting pelvis.
"I'm close," he cried. "I'm close ... oooohhh!" He arched his body, bucking furiously as Sandy struggled to stay on top of his burning member.
"Not yet, you don't!" Sandy said, slowing her tempo, lifting her burning buttocks slightly, easing the tension on his lubricated cock. "You're going to eat me before you cum." She turned around and crouched over his head, her knees touching his shoulders, and allowed him to see and smell the rich, sweet aroma of her pussy, dripping with the blended juices of their desire.
He strained toward her crotch with his head, his mouth open and his tongue eager to lave her succulent body, but the ropes held him back. Sandy didn't allow him to drink in the nectar of her vagina. Yet! Holding the tops of her thighs, she squirmed against his face, rotating and gyrating herself so that his tongue laved her like a flaming torch from the top of her fleecy pubic hair to the top of the deep cleft separating her churning buttocks.
Sandy controlled the territory over which his slurping tongue covered by grinding her hips forward and backward, feeling the hot moistness bring her closer and closer to the ecstatic eruption of orgastic bliss. Her dripping pussy slapped his tongue back and forth between his nose and chin. She ground the slit of her cunt over his nose, forcing his tongue and lips to jam into the base of her tingling clitoris, over and over again until she was so close to eruption that she didn't think she could hold back much longer.
"Cum for me now, baby!" she cried, lowering her head and sucking the throbbing purple head of his penis into her mouth.
She pumped her head up and down, tasting the saltiness and delicious warmth of his blistering flesh, savoring the texture of hot lust and filling her mouth and throat with his cock, seeking desperately to discharge its churning load of scalding cum into her waiting belly. She felt his cock swell at its base as his balls let loose with a tremendous load of thick, grayish cum that shot along his penis and exploded into her waiting mouth. He screamed and bucked beneath her as load after load shot into Sandy's hungry mouth.
Sandy could control her own orgasm no longer and her body convulsed into spasms of blessed eruptions. She screamed and humped her pussy into his face as her orgasm took control of her body. Her wet pussy slapped against his face again and again until she was left drained and depleted. She swallowed and licked a final drop of cum dripping from the end of his penis into her mouth and then she collapsed on top of him, leaving her steaming pussy cover his face.
As the tension subsided from her body, Sandy stretched and cuddled on top of her trick like a relaxed, satisfied kitten. She had forgotten the cigarette until the heat between her fingers triggered her memory. With her thumb, she pushed the glowing end of the cigarette further from her fingers and sat up, holding the short butt in the air for her trick to see. She smiled, climbed off the bed and stabbed the cigarette out in an ashtray without saying anything to him. I'll bet he thought I would actually have done it, she thought. It will keep him coming back.
Sandy left him contentedly tied to her bed as she walked to her closet and began selecting her clothes for the evening. She paused for a moment, a finger touching her pursed lips, her mind debating the question that came to mind when Brenda had called earlier. Should I tell her I am a ... prostitute? Or does she already know? If she did know, would that have anything to do with the fact that she called me after so many years?
CHAPTER THREE
As Brenda paced briskly down the corridor toward the Crest Room, the man with the crooked teeth fell into step behind her. Between them and the Crest Room an elevator door stood open. As they neared the elevator, the man behind Brenda narrowed the distance between them. He gripped her elbow with callused fingers one step from the elevator and before Brenda could turn her head to see who had touched her, she was swung effortlessly through the open doors. The momentum carried her stumbling all the way to the back wall where she managed to keep from falling only by grabbing the handrail circling the walls. Her breath caught in her throat and she turned around, her heart racing madly in her breast, and tried to scream, but her attacker was too fast for her. His stale, nicotine-stained fingers covered her mouth and pressed her twisting head against the back wall.
In her panicked state, Brenda saw a huge black man, dressed in a dark tuxedo and a lace shirt, step out of the elevator. Her voice was muffled by the skinny man's hand. "Help! Help me!" She saw the large Negro turn around, his frame nearly filling the entrance. He placed his fists on his hips in a posture very similar to the way she had seen Charles stand. The black man's lips curled back in a cruel smile that showed even teeth shining evilly at her. Then the elevator doors closed cutting him from sight. The floor jerked and they began to move upward. The skinny man let go of her and stepped back. "Take it easy," he said, wiping his hand on his tie. "Nothing is going to happen to you."
Brenda clutched her purse and slid as far away from him into the corner as she could. She tried to slow her breathing. "What do you want with me," she cried, trying to control her voice and maintain as much of her lost dignity as possible, but her words came out shaky and childlike, giving away her fear.
"The boss wants to see you," he said simply. A lustful grin spread across his ugly face. "He always gets the good ones." He took a step closer to her, his foul breath reeking in her face. "But sometimes he gives me seconds." He laughed uproariously at his own joke, cackling and coughing spittle from his mouth.
She cowered herself even more tightly into the corner. My God! What was happening to her. What was he going to do with her, and who was the boss?
When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, Brenda eagerly slipped around the leering man and stepped through the doors. She had intended to run down the corridor as soon as she was out of the elevator, but instead of being in a corridor, she found herself standing in the middle of a closed vestibule with no place to run. The vestibule was plushly decorated with potted palms and flowers lighted from the ceiling. In an extravagant display of luxury, a miniature cupid poured water from a small jug resting on her shoulder into a pool containing tropical fish.
Brenda froze, her hands covering her cheeks, even more surprised at her environment than she had been at being thrown bodily into the elevator. The elevator doors closed cutting off any hope of escape. From behind, the skinny man nudged her toward the door and then pressed a buzzer with his finger. Immediately a voice that she didn't recognize came out of an intercom located above the door.
"It's me," the skinny man said.
"Is the girl with you," the voice asked.
"Ripe and ready," he answered.
A different voice barked from the intercom this time and Brenda thought she recognized the voice. "Cut the crap, Rifter, and show her in," the voice said angrily. The intercom was cut and replaced by the buzz that unlatched the door. Rifter pushed it open and stepped back for her to enter first..
Brenda didn't see that she had any choice. Besides, she wasn't as afraid now as she had been before recognizing the voice of Charles Stern. And she was letting her temper build up to give him a good piece of her mind. But again, as she stepped into the interior of the hotel suite, her breath was taken away by the richness of the surroundings.
Rich, white shag carpeting covered the largest living room she had ever seen. Ornately designed furniture added an Oriental touch to the suite's decor. There were four people already in the room. They all ignored her except a beautiful, ebony-colored girl who lounged on one of the many couches with a drink in her hand and stared at her out of eyes glazed either by alcohol or by drugs.
Rifter walked away from her and joined another man who was watching Charles Stern and an Oriental circling each other on a mat, judo-fashion. Since only the girl watched her, Brenda began backing slowly toward the door, her eyes watching the men closely, ready to stop if they did anything. She reached the door, her hands found the knob behind her back. Still, no one other than the girl paid any attention. Quickly, she spun around and twisted the knob and jerked frantically at the door, but it was locked. The dark girl laughed idiotically behind her.
When Brenda turned around everyone stared at her, including Charles and the man he was sparring with. Charles stepped off the mat and walked toward her. "All right, everyone," he said, "let's break it up."
As the others began leaving, Charles planted himself in front of her, hands on hips, legs spread as he had when she had seen him getting out of the elevator. And as before, the same conditioned reaction began taking place in her body. Oh, dear God! Not again, she thought as the tension built within her, causing her heart to race in her breast and her blood to pump hotly through her veins. Already she felt the juices flowing between her legs.
Oh, Ross, forgive me for what I'm thinking! I won't give in, I promise.
"Thanks for coming," Charles said.
He was wearing some kind of a judo outfit and despite her resolve, she found herself attracted to him. "Why did you force me up here?" she demanded, suppressing her feelings and keeping her voice sharp.
Charles smiled. "To have dinner, of course." There was no trace of irony in his voice and his face remained friendly, but she knew he had to have other things in mind.
"I'm not hungry."
Charles ignored her comment and turned his back to her and marched quickly away from her. "Come on," he said.
She looked around. The others had already gone and Charles disappeared out of sight through a doorway in the far side of the room. She hesitated, unable to make up her mind whether to follow him or turn back to the front door and try that again. Before she could make up her mind, the lights dimmed in the room, except for a faint glow coming from a large aquarium to her right. The darkness made up her mind for her and turned back in a panic and tried the door again, but the results were the same as before. The door was locked.
She took a deep breath and angrily traced Charles' path across the room. He waited for her in a dimly lit, Oriental dining area with pillows surrounding a low, wooden table already set for two. When she entered the room, he sat down cross-legged on the floor and motioned for her to join him. "I'm not staying for dinner," she stated flatly, refusing to sit where he had indicated that she should.
"Then have some tea," he said, pouring from an elaborately designed teapot into matching cups.
"I'm not thirsty."
He looked up and his ice-blue eyes locked momentarily with hers. "You are thirsty." Immediately Brenda realized he was right. Suddenly her mouth tasted like dry carpet. She couldn't remember ever having been so thirsty before. Feeling angry and foolish with herself at the same time, she sat on one of the pillows, awkwardly trying to keep her skirt down. "That's better," he said, handing her one of the cups of tea.
She grabbed at it with both hands and thirstily began sipping it into her mouth. "Easy," he said. "You're not that thirsty."
The dryness in her mouth eased. She set the cup on the table and folded her hands self-consciously in her lap. She felt like a college freshman again. He was so poised and confident that she felt childish by comparison. "I know why you had that evil little man bring me here," she said, keeping her back stiff.
Charles sipped from his cup. "Oh? Why?"
"For the same reason you took me out before, but it's not going to happen again."
"What's not?"
"We're not going to make love. I'm engaged to a wonderful man and I'm only here for the Real Estate Convention. Nothing more."
"Of course," he said, sliding closer to her. "We won't make love unless you want to. We'll just talk," he said. "Catch up on the past." He slid closer to her and reached out with his left hand, letting it trail gently down from her right shoulder and rest on her hand. Brenda cringed as his fingers enflamed passions deep within her. Already she felt her will to resist melting away. Desperately she tried to rally her defenses.
"You're a beast! Sending that horrid man after me. He literally threw me in the elevator. I could have been hurt."
"Rifter gets carried away sometimes," Charles laughed, leaning closer to her ... so close she felt his breath on her hair. "He does odd jobs for me occasionally. Rifter operates in a dream world. He thinks he's working for the underworld."
"Don'-t touch me," Brenda said. "If you do, I'll scream."
He touched her. He lifted his left hand and trailed his fingers back up her arm and over her shoulder to her neck. He spread his fingers and buried them in her long, blonde hair. She didn't scream then, nor did she scream when he closed his fingers into a fist, knotting her hair at the nape of her neck like a rope, and turned her frightened face up to be kissed. At the last minute, Brenda tried to turn away, but he held her too tightly. His lips pressed against hers and he worked his tongue between her teeth, exploring deeply into her mouth.
Brenda tasted his probing tongue and felt his breath hotly on her neck. A spark came to life inside of her, growing hotter with each movement of his tongue stabbing into her oral cavity. The spark became a burning hunger, a promise of forbidden fruit, a promise of deep, ecstatic orgasm beyond anything she had ever experienced before. Her body yielded to his urgent prodding, relaxing slowly and melting into his arms as though her body knew better than she that this was where she belonged. She felt the same way she had felt in his arms so many years before. She wanted only to please him, to give him the same thrill of desire that she herself now felt. "I want you," she whispered softly, pulling her lips from his. "But not here. Not like this. I'm not free." She looked down at her hands twisting nervously in her lap. "There's Ross to think of. I'm engaged to him." She shook her head as though trying to clear away the cobwebs of passion blinding her to her responsibility. "I can't do this behind his back."
Charles still held her hair with his left hand; with his right hand he reached up and began undoing the buttons on the front of her blouse. "If he was here, he could watch for all I care about him," he said, the last button coming free. He pulled her blouse apart with both hands, exposing her large breasts rising and falling with her heavy breathing.
Her attempt to resist was half-hearted. She tried to pull her blouse back together, but his hands came up to her wrists and pulled her arms apart. Even his strength and dominance flamed the coals of passion consuming her young body. And while he remained cool and controlled, Brenda churned in a sea of rippling cross-currents, wanting to give her very soul to the man who was now burying his face in the succulent valley between her breasts and wanting to hold herself back, to clear the confusion in her mind. Was this right? Or was she only telling herself it was right? Or worse yet ... oh, my God ... was he the one making the decisions for her? Was she tinder his control completely?
Whatever the answer, when Charles unhooked the straps on her bra and pulled it down over her shoulders, her hands came up and caressed the back of his neck as he snuggled his face into her bare breasts. The passion moistening the crotch of her panties allowed the final, clinging bonds of resistance to slide away unnoticed. A great shudder overtook her body, her breasts quivered vibrandy, and an animal cry screamed from her throat. "Take me! Ooooohhhh ... take me!"
Charles wasted no time stripping the remainder of her clothes from her body. Although she eagerly cooperated with him, he lifted and pulled and pushed her this way and that like an adult undressing a child. Only, he didn't do things gently nor did he do them necessarily in the proper order or concern for the garment. With his left hand, he grasped the neck of her unbuttoned blouse and pulled it back away from her shoulders and down her arms. As her arms pulled free behind her back, he grabbed her under her right armpit and lifted her into the air until she was left dangling half on the floor and half in the air like a stuffed doll. He threw her blouse away from her and, taking hold of the hem of her skirt, jerked it up over her head. The waist of the blouse jammed up under her breasts, mashing them painfully under her chin, the tight band of the waist cinching her like a roped animal.
Letting her drop to the carpet, Charles gathered the hem of her skirt together in his right fist, pushed down on the top of her head and jerked up hard on the skirt. The skirt didn't pull free. Brenda's arms and breasts were bound inside her skirt with only her hands visible above her head. The pain in her breasts seared through them as though they were filled with burning coals, but even the pain stimulated her need for him. His hand pressed her face into the skin-stretched, shiny pinkness of her own nipples. As he jerked at her skirt, her nipples slapped again and again into her lips and nose. She couldn't resist the temptation and, as her breasts touched her lips, she slipped her tonguetip from between her lips and tasted the honey of her nipples.
With a mighty heave that snapped Brenda from the floor, Charles jerked the skirt free from her body as the fabric gave way under the pressure. Brenda landed with a painful thump on the carpet, but her squeal of protest went unheeded as Charles gripped her with one hand under her right knee and lifted her again into the air, with her head dangling down to the floor, and with his other hand ripped her panties from her hips with a single yank of his arm. Brenda was left in a dazed heap on her back, her legs spread open, her feet twisted back almost under her buttocks, her elbows supporting her back in a half-sitting position. Her hair was strewn about her face, giving her a wild, petulant look. She tried to catch her breath, too stunned and battered to move from the obscene position he had dumped her in.
His eyes devoured her body. And when he spoke, his voice growled out his uncontrollable need. "I'm going to fuck you harder than you've ever been fucked before," he pledged, standing up and tearing his own clothes from his athletic body.
"Yes! Yes! Fuck me. I want you now!" she cried, her heart racing her blood hotly, her pussy hot and steaming, begging for his cock to be thrust deep inside her, jammed in like a giant pole until she found her relief that only his body could give her. "I can't wait ... please ... now! Fuck me! Put it in me!"
She looked up, her eyes delirious with need and wanting. She watched him cast the last of his clothing to the floor. The sight of him completely nude took her breath away. If anyone deserved to be likened to a Greek god, Charles did. His body rippled with perfectly proportioned, smooth-flowing muscles. She couldn't get enough of him. She held her arms out to him, but he ignored her plea to take her hastily. A chuckle of triumph burst from his lips. "You want it, all right," he said. "You know my cock is the only thing that can satisfy you, but you're going to have to beg for it. You've got to earn the right to be fucked by me, baby."
His words stung her like a whip, but they didn't slow the terrible aching for him. If that's what he wanted from her, she would do anything ... anything ... if he would just put his beautiful, swollen cock inside her. "I'm begging," she cried. "Take me, lover."
She heard his cruel laugh of triumph again. "Not yet," he said, bending over and grasping her left ankle between his viselike fingers. "First you have to show me how much you want it."
With her slender ankle locked tightly in his fist, Charles dragged her physically from the dining room, down the entire length of a long corridor and into a very large master bedroom. He treated her like a slave, like a piece of property that he owned and could do anything he wished with it. Once in the bedroom, he swung her completely into the air and tossed her into an unceremonious tangle on a massive, circular water bed. "Welcome to my lair," he growled. "And now let's see if you're worthy."
Her head spinning and her skin burning from the carpet, Brenda tried to push herself to a sitting position with her palms, but he squatted over her on his knees, his erect penis throbbing inches from her face, and pushed her backward until she lay flat on the floating spread covering the bed. His left hand pinned her neck to the bed as though his next move might make her squirm away. His right hand went to her crotch. She trust her pelvis upward, trying to get him to bring her the relief she so desperately needed.
Charles held back, toying with her, tantalizing her by running his fingers over the hair-lined lips of her pussy, stroking the damp triangle of hair covering the vee of her crotch, but avoiding the button of passion that would send her over the brink of no return. His index finger slipped between her buttocks and traced through the tight, hot valley of her ass until, he reached the dark puckered entrance. His fingertip circled the center of her back entrance, massaging and probing, but it didn't enter until his thumb-tip had separated her tender inner lips and located the vaginal opening. And then, with a cruel thrust, he stabbed his finger and thumb deeply into her body, penetrating both her ass and cunt at the same time.
Brenda screamed as pain and pleasure mingled sadistically through her loins. She squirmed as his fingers skewered into both of her openings like hot knives cutting her passions free of any restraint, and fanning her into flames of desire. His fingers dove in and out until she thought surely that her insides would be literally ripped from her body. Letting go of her neck, Charles pulled her by asshole and cunt until her head was even with his knees. Then he rolled over on top of her and dangled his stiff penis and balls over her face as he maintained the rhythm of his finger. "Suck it," he ordered. "Lick my balls."
More than willing to comply, Brenda strained her face up between his legs and stuck her tongue out, laving the underside of his massive phallus and burying her nose in his scrotum. His huge balls pressed into her eyelids as she nuzzled her face into his crotch, feasting on his sex. She lifted her legs, wrapped her knees around his head, and pulled his face downward. Her efforts were rewarded by his replacing his thumb in her cunt with his mouth and tongue, although he kept his finger in her rear, still stabbing in and out, setting her back entrance on fire.
When he began nibbling the lips of her pussy, Brenda's eyes rolled back in her head and her whole body arched upward, bucking wildly, struggling to unleash the fury within her. His tongue darted inside her quivering vagina, lapping up her juices, bathing her flaming pussy with his mouth. She knew that in any second she would explode. Her hips churned into his face frantically.
One more second! Now ... now ... almost ... ooooohhhh! But just as she reached the place of fulfillment, he drew his head back and flipped her easily onto her stomach, with her head still entrenched between his legs, her need screaming in frustrated protest. "Finish me," she begged.
Charles only laughed and pressed her head to his cock with his hands. The position gave Brenda more freedom of movement and she lowered her head to his blood-engorged cock, eagerly sucking it between her lips and into her mouth. She ran her tongue over the shaft of his manhood like she was licking an ice cream cone. Its rich, fragrant taste delighted her and she tried to force it all the way into her cavernous mouth, but the lust-maddened purple head filled her mouth so fully that she couldn't swallow it all the way into her throat.
And then just as she felt she would be able to get his delicious organ farther into her mouth, it was jerked from her hungry lips and, dripping with her saliva, rammed deeply into her cunt with all the force of Charles' large, athletic body. He made absolutely no attempt to spare her pain. Charles rammed his iron-stiff rod into her unsuspecting pussy with the same deadly earnest he would stab a spear into an attacking tiger. And from Brenda he achieved the same result he would have from the tiger. An ear-shattering scream that started from the innermost depths of her soul, quivering faintly at first, and then with true realization of the pain, a quick intake of breath, followed by unbelievable volume and endurance. His cock reached home with deadly accuracy. His stallion-size organ ground to the center of her stomach, stretching the delicate walls of her vagina almost to the tearing point, and jammed its head deeply into her womb.
At first the pain burned through Brenda like a white-hot jolt of electricity, tearing away at her insides until the scream of pain squeezing her muscles was torn from her lips by the second bone-crushing thrust of Charles' hips. And then the pain gave way to the most thunderous eruption of physical ecstasy that she had ever experienced in her life. "YES! YES! I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT! FUCK ME! HARD!"
Charles didn't disappoint her. His hips pumped over her with furious abandon. He drove his cock into her with the speed and power of a jackhammer, over and over, until he felt his balls gathering up for a tremendous discharge of cum. His fists clenched and he screamed an obscenity as a thunderous ejaculation racked his body, and his massive tool pumped load after load of burning cum deeply into her womb.
When Brenda felt his hot cum shooting into her insides like a repeating cannon, her own orgasm exploded within her with equal intensity. Her nails raked down his back, leaving deep, bleeding trails, and her heels spurred feverishly into his back, "I'M CUMMING ... I'M CUMMING! OH, GOD, DON'T STOP!"
As Charles continued to fill her with his churning masthead, wave after blissful wave of sensuous orgasms drained her tension away.
When it was over they both lay depleted, basking in the tingling afterglow, and awed by the intensity they had both experienced. Neither of them spoke as they floated gently on the dying currents of water rocking their bed. Brenda blinked back tears in her eyes. Never had she believed that such an orgasm was possible. Never even in her most secret dreams had she thought that any man would ever be able to make her respond in such a manner. She relished the very weight of Charles above her.
It was only after he had rolled away from her and walked to the bar and mixed them some drinks that she began to see their lovemaking in a different light. With her tensions drained and her mind cleared, she began to question her ability to have that strong an orgasm without her emotions being manipulated. Instead of the tender feelings she had held for him, doubt and accusation began to creep into her mind. He felt nothing for her. He had only used her. She was right when she had called him a beast. Look at the sadistic way he had treated her. But then another voice argued with her that she had loved the way he had treated her and therefore shouldn't complain.
Charles walked naked back to the bed with their drinks, and handed one to her. She took it, avoiding his eyes, and held it in her lap. "I suppose," she said, "that you're proud of yourself now."
He sat down on the bed in front of her and crossed his legs. He took a sip of his drink, eyeing her critically before answering. Whatever mood he had been in now changed. "You got what you wanted," he said. "So now you're going to make a heavy out of me, huh?"
"You hypnotized me," she defended.
"Bullshit."
"Then why was it so ... so tremendous?"
"Maybe," he said, angry with her now, "because you just like a big stiff cock like every other woman I've known."
"You make it sound cheap ... like I was a whore or something." Brenda turned her face away from him. "You practically raped me, you know."
"I guess next you're going to tell me you were hypnotized seven years ago, too," Charles said, his ice-blue eyes watching her closely. "Well, let me tell you, sweetheart, that was a game we were playing. I've never hypnotized anyone in my life, then or any time since then, but if you want to think you were hypnotized to pacify your emotions, be my guest." He took a large swallow from his drink. "I thought you were different. I guess you're not. You like the action as much as I do, but you want to make it out as something bad-like rape."
Brenda turned around and faced him, tears clung to the corners of her eyes. "I didn't say you did rape me. I said you practically raped me."
"Same difference. You don't want to take any responsibility for your own actions. You want to be able to fuck anyone who comes along, but you don't want anyone to think that you wanted it so you call it almost rape."
Brenda burst into sobs and she covered her face with her hands, her shoulders racked with confusion and misery. "You could have hurt me the way you put it in me. You're mean and you don't care about anyone except yourself. You're sadistic, Charles Stern, and as long as you're that way, I don't want anything more to do with you."
Blinded now by her own tears, Brenda crawled sobbing from the bed and ran from the bedroom back to the dining area and began gathering up her clothes and putting them on. Charles followed her, his face angry, his muscles tensed and rippling. "That's right, run out on me again just the way you ran out seven years ago when it was over. You've had your fuck, now leave and when you go to sleep tonight you can tell yourself what an awful ordeal you were put through by a bad man." Charles threw his drink angrily at the wall, shattering the glass and splattering the wall with brooze.
Brenda flinched as the glass exploded against the wall. She covered her ears with her hands. Why was he acting this way ? Have I been wrong about him? Did he hypnotize me or didn't he? The confusion in her mind was more than she could sort out now. She needed to get away and think. She needed to talk to someone who could look at her problem objectively. And then she remembered she was to meet Sandy Treeman in the lounge. She looked at her watch. It was almost that time now. Sandy would be able to tell her what to do. "I don't want you to think I'm running out on you," she said, trying to undo the anger she had aroused in him. Was he angry because she had hurt him with her accusation or was he angry with her simply because his need had been satisfied and now he wanted her to get out?
Her mind spinning with questions, Brenda hurriedly finished dressing. She had no choice but to leave so she could meet Sandy, and she didn't think he deserved an explanation the way he was acting. She gathered up her purse and turned to him. "I have to go now," she said.
"Oh, yeah. Why?"
"It's really none of your business." She straightened her skirt and walked to the door leading into the living room. "Now, if you'll be good enough to unlock the front door for me, I'll leave." She turned around and marched through the door, across the still-darkened living room, and stood at the front door.
Charles followed her naked through the room and when he reached the door, he stopped and placed his hands on his hips with his legs slightly spread. "The door's not locked. It never has been." His smiled was angry.
"It is locked."
"Try it."
Brenda looked at him standing in the posture that twice before had turned her into a seething, sexual glutton and again, even after the release she had just gone through, her body began to betray her as she felt heat and desire begin to build within her. There was no doubt about it, he had a power over her. If it wasn't hypnosis, what was it? She felt fear stabbing icy fingers into her heart. He did have power over her! "I ... I don't think ... I mean, I don't want to see you, anymore," she said, the fear getting the best of her. She turned back to the door and twisted the handle. The door opened easily.
His angry voice made her turn once more and look at him. "It wasn't just for a quick fuck that I invited you up here for dinner. If that's all I wanted, I could get a hundred girls up here. I thought you were someone special, but I see all you were interested was a quick fuck-a little side action away from home. You've had my cock," his hypnotic voice droned, "and now you're going to go out and fuck the next man you see!"
Brenda gasped, her heart beating like a trip hammer in her breast. She slammed the big door, cutting him from her sight. She turned and stumbled toward the elevator, her eyes blinded by tears, her head ringing with his words. Before she could push the DOWN button on the elevator, its doors opened and Rifter stepped out. She pushed past him into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby, but Rifter held the doors open.
"What's the matter," he sneared. "The boss' cock too big for you?" He cackled at his own joke, showing his broken, tobacco-stained teeth. "What you need is to try mine. I'll really show you a good time." He laughed again and removed his foot from the door. His laugh rang in Brenda's ears as the elevator slowly descended to the lobby.
CHAPTER FOUR
The lounge teemed with conventioners when Brenda arrived, her eyes dried the best she could under the circumstances. The hostess showed her to a small table in a dimmly lit corner of the noisy room. Brenda hoped that her face wasn't too smeared with makeup. She hadn't had time to go to her room first, in fear that she would miss Sandy. The waitress came over and Brenda ordered a gin and tonic. She opened her purse and checked her face and hair in her mirror. Her eyes were a little red, but other than that she didn't look too bad.
As her eyes adjusted to the faint light in the room, she checked the other patrons, carefully making sure that Sandy hadn't already arrived.
When her drink came, she sipped it gratefully and kept her eyes on the entrance.
Three drinks later and thirty minutes late, Sandy finally hurried into the lounge, her face glowing excitedly as she looked around the crowded bar. Brenda recognized her immediately. She stood up too quickly and spilled part of her drink as her thigh jiggled the table. She waved her arm and caught Sandy's attention.
"You've been crying," Sandy accused her as soon as she had seated herself across from her. "Don't tell me you're that glad to see me."
Brenda laughed in spite of herself and fought back a final tear that threatened to drip down her cheek. "You can't imagine how relieved I am to see you," she said.
"It can't be as bad as all that," Sandy laughed. "But there's one thing I can tell and that's whatever is bothering you has to have something to do with a man." Brenda opened her purse and took out a cigarette, lit it, and leaned back. "Now tell me what's been happening."
Brenda was so relieved to have someone to talk to that the words poured out of her as though a dam had burst inside her. She told her everything that had happened to her since arriving at the hotel early that evening, leaving nothing out. And when she was through talking, she felt drained of emotion, but nevertheless, better than she had felt since arriving.
"This Charles Stern sounds like quite a guy," Sandy said, turning and holding up a finger to the waitress. When another round of drinks came, Sandy held hers out in a toast. "To men," she said. "They make the world go 'round, they pay the bills, they keep us warm at night, and God bless them, they don't have the sense to figure us out." She sipped her drink and set it back on the table. "Now tell me more about this Charles Stern of yours."
"There's not much else to say. I think he has some kind of spell over me ... hypnosis maybe."
Sandy laughed, loudly clapping her hands together. "Do you really believe that?"
Brenda blushed at the way her friend put it. "Well, I don't know what else to believe." She reached out and grabbed Sandy's hands on top of the table. "Oh, Sandy, he treated me like I was a common ... whore." She looked down at her lap as Sandy drew her hands away from her. "I've never been treated like that before."
When Sandy spoke again, her words seemed different than before-cold almost. "It must have been terrible being treated like a nasty prostitute."
Brenda shook her head in agreement. "I felt so awful. So dirty like." She felt the tears coming again and blinked to keep them back, but it was no use. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "What should I do, Sandy?"
"Go home and leave Charles Stern to me. He sounds like someone I'd like to have in my bed."
"Oh, Sandy, don't joke about it. It's not something I can just forget about. Don't you understand? I think he has me under some sort of spell. I can't just forget about that. I'm afraid that he ... well ... might not be through with me."
"Yes," Sandy said dryly. "You've already mentioned your fear of being under his spell. If you're under a spell, it's the same kind of spell men have been putting women under for a long time." Sandy slid back from the table and stood up. "Take my advice. Go home and forget about it. Forget about the convention, too. Go back to this Ross of yours, get married and have a housefull of kids. That's the kind of thing girls like you are cut out for."
Brenda stood up too and reached out with her right hand and clung to her friend's arm. "I can't just leave and forget it. I ... I had hoped you would be able to help me."
Sandy sighed and patted her companion's arm. "All right. For old times' sake, I'll see if I can find out if your Mr. Stern has anything else in mind for you. Okay?"
Brenda nodded, grateful. "I knew you'd be able to help me."
Sandy smiled. "I'll be in touch."
* * *
Normally Sandy had no difficulty getting a rundown on men. She had a lot of connections and usually a couple of phone calls would produce all the information she would ever need about someone. With Charles Stern, however, she drew a blank. No one seemed to know anything about him. The only thing she could find out for certain was that he seemed to have plenty of everything he needed. He kept a suite at the hotel but was there only a few weeks out of the year. The rest of the time, no one knew where he resided.
Walking up to his door and ringing the buzzer wasn't Sandy's style. Anyone could do that. And anyone could have a door slammed in his face, too, she realized. Sandy didn't have doors slammed in her face. She would get in to see him, all right, but not by knocking on his front door. Sandy earned her free passes in the bedroom. Getting the kind of introduction to Charles Stern would be earned in the same way. And if this Charles Stern was anything like Brenda had said, her efforts would be more than repaid just to get a look at his cock. She had seen a lot of cocks in her business, but never one of the immense proportions that Brenda had mentioned.
So the first thing she needed was a key to his suite. It proved ridiculously easy. It took two and a half hours and the key traveled through three hands before it came to her. The cost to Sandy was the promise of one future roll in the hay to a fifty-five-year-old assistant night clerk. And then after a telephone call to his room and discovering that his suite was empty, Sandy was on her way.
She rode the elevator up, the excitement of an enjoyable night already stimulating the juices to flow hot and heavy in her body. She didn't know what she would do if she ran into anyone else in the apartment. She knew she was taking a chance of making a fool of herself. He could already have another girl in his bed, but she doubted if he would so soon after the sexual bout Brenda had described to her. Her plan was a simple one. And since simple plans always worked out best for her in the past, she felt fairly certain that this one would work, too. She had even done it several times in the past, although before she had always been paid for doing it. After all, what red-blooded American male wouldn't find it pleasant to come home and find a beautiful naked female waiting for him in his bed. Especially one like Charles Stern was supposed to be.
When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, Sandy crossed through the foyer with no more than a glance to ensure that no one was there to see her. She slipped the key quietly in the front door and opened it slowly. She stepped in and gently pressed the door closed behind her, making sure that the latch didn't make any sound to give her away, should someone be in the suite. She stood by the door until her eyes adjusted to the dim light that an aquarium cast about the large living room.
Holding her breath, she listened intently, but couldn't detect any sound of life. Encouraged, she moved on cat's feet, skirting furniture, across the room to the hall. She peeked into three empty rooms before she found the master bedroom at the end of the hall. His bed was the largest circular water bed she had ever seen. She let her breath out in a quiet whistle. A person could hold ,an orgy in a bed that large.
She reached her hands behind her back to unzip her dress, but the sound of the bedroom door slamming closed with an ear-shattering bang be hind her caused her hands to freeze at her neck. She spun around, her heart pounding. She could hardly believe her eyes. Standing with a gun in his right hand was the most magnificent male specimen she had ever seen naked. Her eyes traveled down his body until she reached the center of his spread legs. A quick intake of her breath gave away her surprise of seeing the largest male organ of her career. And suddenly the interest she had in Charles Stern changed from one of reluctant curiosity to help an old friend to one of greedy personal self-interest. She wanted his cock, erect, hot, and throbbing, buried in her pussy.
The bedroom door opened aagin and a second man stepped into the room. At first, Sandy could see only white, sparkling teeth and a white, lace shirt in the darkened room, but then she saw the man was a huge black man dressed in a tuxedo. The man gave her only a brief glance, then turned his head to Charles. "Is everything okay?" he asked.
"Fine," Charles answered. "I'm going to be just fine for a while. Call me when the chopper is ready, Frank."
Frank hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want me to get rid of her?"
Charles shook his head, smiling. "No, I think she needs to be interrogated."
This time Frank smiled. He turned and looked at Sandy again, clamly allowing his eyes to travel carefully over every inch of her body. "I think you're right," he said. "She definitely looks like she needs probing into." He opened the door be hind him, started to step out, hesitated, looked at Charles and said, "Don't stab her to death. It's getting harder and harder to get rid of bodies these days." He closed the door, cutting off the sound of his parting laughter.
Sandy hadn't moved during all of the time Frank had been in the room. She still stood with her hands frozen at the back of her neck, her fingers on the zipper of her dress. She wasn't sure what she had gotten herself into. Her heart raced; her mind spun with possibilities. Was Charles some kind of mafia boss? Or was she being had? Whatever the situation was, she had only one asset to barter with. Sex. And that was what she had come for, anyway. And under the circumstances, she knew she had better make it good.
"Who are you and what do you want?" Charles said, cocking his pistol and pointing it directly at her head. "If I don't get a damn good reason for your being here, you won't be going anywhere else."
Sandy felt her face drain and fear race into her stomach. My God! What could she say? But then her body and her profession took over for her. She appealed directly to the most basic need of his maleness. "I saw you in the lobby," she said simply. "I saw you and I wanted you."
Charles didn't change the aim of his gun or the pressure or his finger on the trigger. He reached for the light switch with his left hand and flipped it on, bathing Sandy and himself in light. "Then prove what you say," he said, his ice-blue eyes already removing her clothes.
"Strip!"
Sandy was more than eager to please. If her life depended on it, and she wasn't sure whether it did or not, she was certainly going to make it good. Her fingers pulled the zipper at her neck down below her shoulders and then changed her hands and pulled the zipper the rest of the way open until the back of her dress was separated all the way to the small of her back. She pulled the dress forward from her shoulders and let it fall away from her breasts. Next she hooked her thumbs inside the waist and pushed the dress down over her hips and let it fall to the floor in a heap around her ankles. She stepped out of it and kicked it aside.
She postured for him now like she had done for her John earlier in the evening. She kept her stomach sucked in and her breasts high. She ran her fingers through her dark hair and pushed it back from her face, allowing it to hang down her back so that it wouldn't hamper his view of her body. The pink tip of her tongue came out and moistened her lips. She tilted her chin up and looked deeply into his eyes, praying that he found her attractive.
Her prayer was unnecessary. Already she saw that his huge cock had erected itself into an iron-hard rod, ready to fill her more fully than she had ever before. A soft animal purr sang in her throat. Her hands went to her face and, with her palms lightly caressing her creamy, honey-tanned skin, slowly drew her palms down over her delicate young neck and between the deep valley of her mountainous breasts until her palms cupped their heavy succulence. She lifted them out and up and her fingers raked gently around the circumference of her nipples until their sensitive center stood jewel-hard against her fingertips. Sandy dug her fingers cruelly into the firm bulk of her breasts, masochistically torturing her passions, building herself to delirious desire for the pain that such gigantic phallus would bring. The thought of it made her cunt moist with desire. Her hips and body began to sway to a sensuous tune that she played in her mind. Dancing obscenely in front of him, keeping her hands on her breasts pulled free from the bra still around her chest, and her high-heeled shoes in one spot, she ground her hips slowly forward and back. Her nylon panty hose dug into the cleft of her pussy.
Maintaining a slow, sensuous rhythm with her hips, Sandy rotated her body so that her back exposed itself to Charles' eyes. Her hands left her breasts and reached behind her back to unfasten her bra. She drew her legs together until her ankles were less than six inches apart, then bent over at the waist and, as her bra fell free to the floor and allowed her breasts to swing naked, her hands traveled, fingertips together, down the curved ridge of her spine until they reached the top edge of her panty hose. Her palms caressed the firm mounds of her buttocks. Slowly she began to roll the waist of her panty hose down over her ass, exposing the center of her rear entrance to his view.
"You've shown me the target," Charles growled from behind her. "Now let's see if you can de liver."
Sandy pushed her stockings the remainder of the way down her legs, stepped out of them, straightened up, and turned around to face him. The gun was still pointed at her head. "Can't you point that thing somewhere else?" she asked.
He smiled. "The thought that my finger might slip and blow a bloody hole through your head excites me," he replied. "I think I'll leave it pointed where it is. What else do you have in mind?"
Sandy hesitated, not sure now whether she should continue or not. Did he want her, or didn't he? She knew for certain that she wanted him and the sight of his erect penis should indicate that. But maybe it was erect only because he was going to shoot her and that really was what was turning him on. Either way, Sandy's own desire was too great to stop. Her flaming passion urged her to continue and if she was going to be killed for it, then it would be one hell of a way to go.
Sandy's next action indicated she wasn't completely oblivious to the gun pointed at her head. She reasoned that if he wouldn't turn the gun away from where her head was now, maybe she could put her head in a place that he would turn the gun from. Slowly she sank to her knees and crawled across the distance between them until her head bowed directly in front of him. She turned her face up to him and rose slowly on her knees until his testicles touched her forehead.
Evidently the thought of his own penis being blown away didn't excite him for he no longer pointed the barrel of his pistol at her head. Instead he stood now with his legs spread and the hand holding the pistol pointed straight up in the air, his arm bent as though giving a turn signal, his left hand resting on his hip. "You're making good progress," he said. "Keep going."
Encouraged now, Sandy began bathing his balls and cock with her tongue. Her hungry mouth opened as wide as she could in order to suck one of his huge balls, causing her to hum with pleasure as its delicious taste permeated throughout her mouth. Her tongue caressed and laved first one of his massive balls and then the other. She took the skin of his scrotum between her teeth and nibbled greedily while she pressed her face against his crotch to caress the hard pole of his manhood back and forth with her cheeks. Her efforts were rewarded by his groan of pleasure.
She licked and sucked her way up the hot shaft of his rod until the purple crown slipped moistly between her hips. Cupping his heavy balls in her left palm, she attempted to encircle the base of his organ with the fingers of her right hand, but so large was his cock that she couldn't quite touch the tips of her fingers with the tip of her thumb. He could kill me with this, she thought. He didn't need the gun in his hand.
As his hot organ filled her mouth and throat, Sandy felt him beginning to thrust his hips forward. The shiny cockhead crammed into the back of her throat. She tried to take as much of his cock into her mouth as possible, but it filled her throat so full that she coudn't at first get it down. She swallowed and swallowed at each of his forward thrusts, but her throat wouldn't stretch large enough to accommodate him. It wasn't until he grabbed her hair with his left fist and held her head against the force of his tool that she was able to relax her throat muscles enough that his cock raped its way over her tongue and throat and buried itself in the passage to her stomach.
Pain seared through her throat like she had swallowed a hot branding iron as her throat stretched to its maximum capacity. At first she thought she would be unable to breathe as his erection pumped lustfully and lewdly in and out of her mouth, but as she relaxed her throat more and more, she discovered that she could suck in air during his out strokes and be set to enjoy his painfully delicious forward thrusts. She nursed greedily at his body.
Suddenly he jerked his massive cock, dripping with saliva, from her mouth and, using her face and hair like a towel, wiped his sex dry of lubrication. "You're going to know you've been fucked when I'm through," he said, stepping forward with his left leg and hooking his right foot under her crotch. Because of the forward movement of his body, Sandy was forced to cling to his right leg to keep from falling backward. She felt the big toe of his right foot stab between the lips of her vagina and enter the center of her delicate passageway. The contact with his toe and pussy shot electrical messages of sensual promise rocketing through her body screaming for release. Then just as suddenly, her cunt exploded into excruciating pain as he lashed out with his foot, lifting her bodily into the air as though he were tossing a ball. Her pussy felt like his whole foot had buried itself inside her hair-lined lips as she sailed helplessly through the air and landed in a tangled heap on the water bed.
She expected him to follow her and take her on the bed, but when she rolled over on her back and looked, he had strolled over to a large, leather couch against the wall and sat down with his legs spread and his feet resting on the seat on either side of him so that his lust-stiffened cock rose up like a thick lance between his legs. He pointed his gun again, this time at her dripping pussy. "Crawl over here, bitch."
She was afraid not to do as he ordered. Her fear didn't come from his pistol, but from the fear that if she didn't heed to his commands, he would not use the electrifying member between his legs. She crawled like a whimpering puppy across the room and knelt at the feet of her master. "TAKE ME!" she pleaded. "FUCK ME."
He ignored her and took his time toying with her need of him. Leaning back on the couch and resting his elbows on the back rest, his gun hanging limply in his hand, he lifted his right foot to her mouth. "Suck my toes," he ordered. "They're sticky with your pussy juice. Lick them clean."
She hesitated only a moment-only until she saw his right wrist with the gun in it flick the barrel in the direction of her chest. She sucked his toes, running her tongue over them and sucking the juice left from her cunt into her mouth and swallowing it down into her stomach. When she had finished his right foot, he held out the toes of his left and ordered her to repeat the process. She complied quickly.
While she sucked the toes of his left foot, her face hidden from his view by her hair spilled at his feet, and her knees and elbows supporting her weight, Charles wiped his right foot on her back and sides, curling his toes and raking his nails into her delicate skin. She moaned from the pain, but didn't stop doing his bidding. And then she felt herself propelled backward by his left foot as he curled the big toe in her mouth upward, lifted until her head was pulled upright like a fish on a hook and then pushed .with the sole of his foot against her face. She tumbled onto her back with her arms thrown out to the side, and her knees spread open.
She stared up at him dazed. She lifted herself to her elbows and tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down. "Scoot closer," he ordered. "Stay on your back."
She did as he ordered. Using only his feet, he began to run his toes over her breasts and stomach, caressing and tweaking her ripples as one would use his fingers. The degradation of having a man literally wiping his feet on her increased the need that Sandy felt for him more than anything had ever done before. The very essence of her sensuality burst to life, demanding the release of orgasm. She quivered passionately under the probing of his toes.
"Roll over," he ordered, jamming the large toe of his right foot into her cunt and poking her in the ribs with the large toe of his left foot. He kept his toe in her pussy while she rolled over, the toe creating a corkscrew effect on the inside of her lubricated love nest as she obeyed his wishes.
Once on her stomach, she rested her shoulders and the left side of her face on the carpet, her arms tucked under her breasts and her rear sticking up in the air in the submissive gesture of a cat. He kept a toe in her cunt and now ad ,'d a toe to her rear entrance as well. She moaned under the twin proddings of his toe. "Don't stop," she begged. "I love it. Ooooohhhh ... I love it."
Impatient now, Charles slid from the couch to his knees and placed the shaft of his organ against her ass and began working his hips back and forth in a grinding motion while, with his hands, he drew her long hair back from her head and began twisting it into a thick ropelike strand. Next he pulled both of her arms from under her and twisted them painfully up to the center of her back. Using the strand of her own hair that he had twisted together, he wrapped her hands tightly with it until she was tied helplessly under him with her head pulled back like a pony harness.
The pain in Sandy's arms and neck brought tears to her eyes. Lying on the carpet with her breasts and knees supporting her and her ass sticking Up in the air, she couldn't see what Charles was doing. She felt the shaft of his cock sliding along the valley between her buttocks. And then she felt his swollen head poking at the tight puckered entrance between her cheeks. She squirmed her hips to try to get his aim down lower to the entrance of her cunt, but that wasn't what he was after.
"Hold still," he ordered, grabbing a buttock in each hand and separating them so that his lance aimed directly into the tight center of her rear. He pressed his tool against the opening and pushed. Her scream of pain echoed around the room as his punishing prod penetrated her quivering rectum.
"Not there!" she screamed. "You are too big. No! No. No! Stop. For God's sake, don't push it in any further. You'll tear me apart."
She heard his laugh above her. "You haven't even taken a third of it yet. You're going to get it all." She felt his monstrosity being forced deeper into her tightly clenched ass and she was powerless to stop him from violating her small opening. The pain that burned through her was more than she had believed possible. His tool felt like burning metal being crammed slowly up her rear, getting larger and larger the further up her ass it went. She bit into her lower lip and blinked her eyes against the pain, but she couldn't stop it from searing and tearing its way deeper and deeper, slowly filling her so completely that she thought surely at any moment the delicate membrane of her passageway would be shredded into a thousand torn fragments.
She struggled to pull her hands free of their bonds in order to push him away and escape the pain burrowing steadily deeper into her body, but her struggle only pulled her hair tighter around her wrists and stretched her head so far backward that she was afraid she was going to break her neck. "Please," she begged. "Stop!"
Instead of stopping, Charles continued the slow, millimeter by millimeter penetration, stretching and raping his weapon deeper and deeper until Sandy feared she would pass out with the pain. And then he stopped. Relief flooded through Sandy. She hadn't believed it possible, but she had taken it all. Her breath came in deep, racking sobs. She hurt, she felt proud that she had managed to accommodate all of him. Carefully she wiggled her hips back against his cock. The pain she had felt earlier began to be replaced by pleasure as her nerve center calmed itself to the joy of complete penetration.
Her joy was short lived. As she wiggled back against him, she realized that she couldn't feel his stomach or hips against her rear. And then she heard his words, "You've taken half of it, now get ready for the other half." She had a short time to get ready. With one mighty thrust of his hips, Charles crammed his cock the remainder of the way into her burning ass. She felt as though a huge stick of dynamite had exploded inside her guts, her head pounding and white spots dancing dizzily in front of her eyes. Her breath froze in her throat. And while the pain immobilized her, she felt Charles begin pumping his massive organ in and out of her, reaming her out like a piston, his polished head tearing along the walls of her rectum.
At first the pain seared so excruciatingly through her body that her teeth bit deeply into her lower lip and she tasted the tartness of her own blood, but as his cock continued to punish her, the pain slowly gave way to that strange lusting for hurt that built up like an approaching storm. Her loins throbbed a message of lust as the pink membrance of her puckered hole was pulled in and out by his invading phallus. Pain and pleasure became mixed. She closed her eyes and concentrated on feeling, on relaxing her muscles and giving in to the demands of his body and hers. And then suddenly she felt herself riding up on a crest of sensual bliss that threatened to explode in her loins like molten lava. His pace quickened and she knew he was reaching the top as well.
And then suddenly she was jerked bodily from the carpet, lifted into the air by the harness of her hair and pinioned like a tied animal, and carried across the room to the water bed, his thick shaft supporting her hips and keeping her feet from reaching the ground. She was thrown on the bed with Charles on top of her, never removing himself from his cruel union.
As Charles resumed pumping into her, his right hand with the pistol in it reached around her right thigh. He stuck the muzzle of his pistol between the steaming lips of her cunt and stabbed the circular and around the base of her erect clitoris. "Get ready," he said. "You're going to get it all."
With the button of her desire sticking inside the barrel of a gun, Sandy's smoldering pussy exploded into a life of its own. The triangular jungle of dark curls matted between her legs dripped with sparkling droplets of delicious lubricants. Her lips enveloped the gun's muzzle, coaxing it to aim its venom at her lustful center. "Shoot me!" she screamed. "Screw me ... fuck me!" Her pussy sucked and pulled on the gun. Release was so close. A few more strokes and she would be there.
Charles hunched his hips and stabbed the barrel of his gun into her with the uncontrolled passion of a madman. His eyes, however, calmly belied the frantic motions of his body-each thrust of his powerful hips and each stab into the pink lips of her pussy was carefully calculated to achieve the maximum effect both for her and himself. Charles' huge balls churned with cum, ready to explode into her waiting cavity. "In one second I'm going to blow you to hell," he said, giving an extra hard, savage thrust into her cunt with the pistol.
Sandy exploded into a body-wrenching climax that, despite her bonds, almost threw them both from the bed. "I'M CUMMMMING! AGGGGGGGGHHHHHH! DON'T STOP! OOOOOHHHHHHH ... HARDER, HARDER!"
Charles' thrusting cock blasted load after load of cum into her burning ass. He bucked and churned into her rear as his climax wrenched his body in an even greater intensity than hers. Load after passion-filled load shot into her ass until her rectum was so filled with white sticky cum that it flowed out and dripped down his balls and down her thighs as his testicles slapped against her with each of his forward thrusts.
As the last shudderings of her climax died away, Sandy lay exhausted on the bed. She wouldn't have believed it possible to achieve an orgasm of such intensity from so much pain. It had been the greatest experience of her life. She loved it. She enjoyed the cruel position of being dominated by a man of his obvious success. Here was a man who truly rated a woman of special talents. Not someone like Brenda Martin!
Sandy sighed as Charles pulled his flaccid cock slowly from her ass and let it drip wetly down her right leg. Brenda Martin would never have been able to take a cock like his in her ass. Sandy laughed silently at the thought. No. What Charles needed was someone like herself who knew how to please a man like him.
When Charles removed the pistol from her cunt, he looked at the barrel covered by her juices. "Sure fucked this up." He stood up and crossed the room to a large closet, leaving Sandy prostrated on her stomach with her hands still harnessed behind her back. She turned her head to watch him. He removed a valise-shaped case from a shelf and brought it back to the bed. He drew a chair along side of the bed and sat down, resting his feet on the floating mattress beside her. "Your name is Sandy Treeman. You are twenty-six years old. You're an old friend of Brenda Martin who you saw in the bar downstairs not more than a few hours ago. You're a prostitute by occupation and you owe an assistant night manager I know a blow job. And for some reason, you break into people's apartments." He opened the case he held in his lap and took out a clean rag and began wiping the barrel of his pistol. "Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow the top of your head off when I get this gun clean?"
The fact that he knew so much about her, and had gotten the information so rapidly, startled her. Especially since she had tried to get the same kind of information about him and had failed. And for God's sake, would he really shoot her? "Someone would hear you," she said. "They would come and find you."
He smiled back at her. "You're right. That's one good reason." He looked down at his gun and continued cleaning it. Sandy sighed. "Will you untie me?"
"Not yet." He continued cleaning his gun. He took it apart and oiled all the parts and put them back together. She didn't see any bullets. He cocked the trigger and looked down the barrel, checking its cleanliness. Then he turned the gun around and squeezed the trigger several times and listened to the sound of it clicking on empty chambers. He pointed the gun at her and pulled the trigger a couple of times. He smiled.
"You mean it wasn't loaded?" she asked.
"Who said it wasn't loaded?"
"I didn't see any bullets?"
He looked into the box on his lap and poked around with one finger. Reaching in, he pulled out a bullet. He plugged it into the gun. "That's a bullet," he said simply. He placed the pistol in the case and closed it. "Now," he said, leaning back, "are you supposed to tell me anything?"
He seemed surprised when she shook her head. "Then you really just came up for a fuck?"
That's not the way she would have preferred it being put, but yes. "I wanted to meet you," she said. Brenda was afraid he had a spell over her, but she knew that was bullshit. She had really come up out of curiosity. "I heard about you ... uh ... how big you are."
Charles snorted. "I won't buy that"
"Will you untie me please?"
"Not yet. Not until you tell me the truth. You came up here because Brenda Martin asked you to. She was in my apartment earlier. We argued. She thinks I hypnotized her and then seduced her, which is crap. But that's why you're up here, isn't it?"
She nodded. "At first maybe, but not later," She turned her head to try and relieve the tension on her neck. "Now, will you untie me?"
He leaned forward and untied the hair around her wrists. "Why not? You've done your job. You've found out I'm a mean s.o.b. that's certainly capable of doing almost anything to a young lady." He removed the case from his lap and set it on the floor and stood up. "You can get dressed and go now. I'm sure Miss Martin will pay you for your services."
Sandy's ears stung. He had it all wrong and now he was dismissing her like a child. When she attempted to roll over, her arms hung useless at her sides. She sat up awkwardly and felt the blood tingling back into her numb arms, stabbing her with tiny needles of pain. He collected her clothes from the floor and tossed them onto her lap. She dressed with her back to him. She didn't know what to say to make things right. He took her arm and led her to the door.
"It's been fun," he said dryly. And then she was in the foyer by the elevator with no place to go except down.
CHAPTER FIVE
Rifter waited until she got the drawer partially open, then slammed his fist against it and snapped it closed on her ebony-colored fingers. She screamed and snatched her fingers back, sticking them in her mouth and stumbling backward. "I need it bad," she cried.
"I'll decide when you get more, Betty Jean." He placed his right hand in the middle of her dark stomach and shoved her on the bed. "And right now I gave you an errand to do first. You don't seem to want to do it."
"I'll do it after. I promise." She curled up in a ball on the bed and rocked back and forth. Tears matted her dark eye lashes and dripped down her cheeks. She wiped her nose on the back of her hand. "I promise I'll do anything you say afterwards."
Rifter lashed out with his right hand, contacted with her left ear and sent her sprawling across the bed. "When I give you a job to do, you take care of it first. Then I'll take care of you."
Betty Jean sprawled naked on the bed, sobbing, her thin shoulders shaking. "All right, all right. I'll do it."
Rifter pushed her off the bed onto the floor and then took her place in the center of the bed. He propped the pillows against the head rest and leaned back, his hands crossed behind his head. "Then get dressed and get out of here."
When she was gone, Rifter reached over and pulled the phone onto his lap. With her out of the way for a while, he might as well do a little recruiting. You could never have too many things -lined up. Some of the suckers he had his eyes on lately hadn't turned a profit for him yet. He still hadn't figured out how to get to Charles Stern, but he would. So far he hadn't been able to find out very much about him except that he was loaded. But since he had started working for him, he knew that it was only a matter of time before he found out something he could use against him. He dialed the desk and asked for Miss Martin's room number. He jotted it down, thanked the clerk and hung up. Anything good enough for Charles Stern was good enough for him.
It would be better if he could get her up to his suite because if she made a lot of noise down in one of those small rooms there's no telling who would hear her. Up here she could scream all she wanted. He smiled and leaned over to the night stand and replaced the phone. Opening a drawer in the stand, he extracted a hand-rolled cigarette and lit it, inhaled deeply and held the smoke in his lungs. He leaned back and made plans. The next couple of hours should be fun.
When he finished the joint, he crushed it out and popped the roach in his mouth. No sense letting any of it go to waste. He stood up. Man, he felt fine. His hands went to his crotch and he squeezed gently at the bulge in his pants. It was going to be nice to feed his cock to that prissy bitch.
Rifter checked the time on his wrist watch. Three fifteen, Thursday afternoon. If he was lucky that the convention she was attending would be taking a break about now. It was possible he could find her in her room. Maybe he should take some pills with him. It might make it easier.
* * *
Wearing only a thin robe wrapped around her, Brenda sat cross-legged in the center of her bed, holding a gin and tonic in her right hand. It was her third drink and she felt a little tight, but not as high as she wanted to be. She had attended the morning meeting, but hadn't gone back after lunch. She wished now that she hadn't decided to come to the convention at all. She was afraid of what was happening to her. She wanted to drown her fears in drink, but it wasn't working. She wasn't used to alcohol and, while it was certainly making her drunk, it wasn't relieving the shame she felt for what she had become.
She shivered and pulled the robe tighter around her shoulders. If Ross ever found out she had been to bed with another man, he wouldn't have anything to do with her and she wouldn't blame him. She was being turned into a tramp. Not only had she begged Charles Stern to make love to her after he had hypnotized her, but now her mind wouldn't stop thinking filthy thoughts about Rifter. And it was all Charles Stern's fault. His words repeated themselves in her mind ... fuck the next man you see. And that man had. been Rifter. She couldn't get him out of her mind. The thought of having sex with him made her skin crawl, but why couldn't she stop thinking about him?
A knock on the door caused her to jump, spilling part of her drink on her thigh where her robe had fallen open. She stood up, dizzy from the drinks. Her heart pounded in her breasts. No one knew she was here except Sandy and ... and them. She set her drink down and moved to the door, clutching her robe tightly around her full figure. "What is it?" she called, praying she would hear Sandy's voice.
"Telegram," a man's voice called.
Who would send her a telegram? Ross, maybe? She hesitated. It could be a trick. "Will you slip it under the door please?"
"You have to sign for it," the voice answered.
She checked to make sure that the safety-chain was securely latched and then unlocked the door and opened it the few inches that the chain would allow. She might as well not have had the chain on the door for all the good it did her, however. The chain snapped like a piece of thread as Rifter's shoulder plowed into the door, slamming it into her and knocking her to the floor on her back. Her robe fell open, displaying her nude body and splayed legs obscenely to his lustful view.
She jumped up and ran for the telephone, but Rifter was too fast for her. After kicking the door closed, he jumped over the bed and pulled her backward, away from the phone, by her robe. The robe came away in his hands, and now completely nude, Brenda struggled for the telephone again. This time Rifter grabbed her left wrist and twisted it behind her and pushed her face first on the bed. He straddled her and pressed her face in a pillow.
"Don't scream," he threatened. "If you know what's good for you." He waited until he felt an agreeing nod of her head before he eased the pressure. "That's better."
Brenda didn't know what to do. She was afraid he would hurt her if she screamed and she wasn't sure that she wanted to scream, anyway. If she did it would bring attention that could even get back to Ross. She shivered under him, her naked back pinned down by his crotch. She should never have left Ridgecrest. She should have stayed home the way Ross had wanted her to.
"Roll over," Rifter barked in her ear. "Roll over and let's get a look at those big tits of yours."
She felt his weight being lifted from her back, but his knees remained on either side of her. She didn't want to roll over and be forced to look up into his face. She didn't want him seeing her naked. She hesitated too long and suddenly her head was jerked painfully from side to side as Rifter shook her by her hair like her head was a rag doll. Her eyes rolled back in her head from the pain and she cried out for him to stop.
"Then do what I tell you, bitch." He let go of her hair. "Now roll over."
This time she didn't resist. She held her arms back against the mattress over her head as far from him as she could get them and rolled over him, scooting herself around with her heels and the back of her head, sucking in her stomach at the same time to try and keep herself from brushing against the bulge at his crotch. Her breasts pointed up at him. "What are you going to do to me?" she whimpered.
He laughed down at her and settled his weight on her stomach, painfully mashing her against the mattress and making it hard for her to breathe. He drew his knees up and jammed them against the sides of her breasts, pushing them together and up toward her face, painfully.
"I'm going to eat you up," he said, chortling at his own joke. "But don't you worry, little lady, because you're going to like it."
He reached down and squeezed her breasts in his large, calloused hands until she winced from the pain. She grabbed his arms to try and push his hands away, but as soon as she touched his arms, his fingers closed down on her breasts like he was squeezing water from a washcloth.
Her face went white and she choked back a scream.
"That's it," he said as she jerked her hands away. "Just keep your arms flat on the sheet and you won't get hurt-maybe." He began massaging her breasts now, gently kneading them with his fingers, tweaking her nipples to erection, and laughing down at her. "I have a special surprise for you." He reached down between his legs and unzipped his fly. His right hand dug inside. He squirmed his hips and finally flopped out his distended cock. She watched horror stricken as he played with himself, stroking the shaft and stretching his foreskin back and forth over the shining head of his manhood. "This is all for you," he said, scooting up higher on her stomach so that his swollen head hung revolutingly over her breasts.
He reached into his fly again and this time when he brought his hand back out, his balls were cupped in his palm. He lifted them up and let them fall with a sickening plop onto her breasts. "There's plenty of cum in these babies for you," he said, looking at himself fondly.
She turned her head to the side so that she wouldn't have to see the despicable things that he was doing. "Don't," she said in a very small voice. "Please."
"What's the matter? You don't think I'm good enough for you?" He pushed his penis between the twin mounds of her breasts and, using his hands to crush them around his cock, began humping back and forth between them. "You're good enough to fuck Charles Stern, but you're too good to fuck me, huh? Is that what you think ?" He stuck a finger between her lips, hooked her cheek, and twisted her face around. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, bitch."
She looked at him, tears in her eyes. She kept her sobbing quiet. "I just want you to leave me alone," she pleaded.
"Is that what you told him? Leave me alone please? I don't think so. When I saw you coming out of his suite you didn't look like you had begged him to leave you alone." He humped his hips into her breasts a couple of times. "Now don't you like that?" He slid up further, drag-, ging his balls across her breasts, and placing his knees on her biceps, pinning her arms helplessly under him. His cock bobbed only inches above her lips.
A drop of clear fluid oozed out the eyelike slit in the head of his cock and hung precariously on the end, ready to drip onto her face at any second. She turned her head away and again his finger jerked her cheek until she stared directly at the head of his cock. With the first finger and thumb of his right hand, Rifter gripped the shaft of his cock and waived it in a circular motion over her mouth, the drop of fluid dangling even more precariously than before.
Brenda pressed her lips together as he flaunted his cock at her. He pushed it down, closer and closer to her lips until his velvety head touched her mouth wetly. She tasted the liquid on her lips. "Like it, baby." He rotated his cock from side to side, smearing the fluid evenly over her mouth. "That's powerful stuff," he said. "It'll grow hair on your chest." He pressed his penis harder against her mouth. "Now open up those lips and suck it," he ordered.
At first she refused, but when he drew his hand back and made a fist, she saw that he meant business. Oh, my God! He's going to make me do it. Afraid to refuse and yet revolted at the idea of his big prick in her mouth, Brenda eased the pressure of her pursed lips. Immediately he lunged forward, smashing her lips painfully against her teeth with his eager cock. She opened her mouth wider and his tool flooded into her mouth, filling her with his hot, throbbing meat.
She ran her tongue hesitantly over the underside of his head, feeling the slickness and heat throbbing against her tonguetip. Her lips encircled the ridge of his cock and she was careful that her teeth didn't dig into his flesh lest he do something painful to her.
"That's it, baby. Now you just do as you're told," he ordered. "Suck that big lollypop head real good."
Brenda did as she was ordered. She sucked on his head like she was nursing on a big tit. Juice filled her mouth as her saliva glands responded to the taste of his pulsing organ. She didn't want to swallow it down, but the fluid built up in her mouth and threatened to flow over her lips and down her chin if she didn't swallow. The action of her throat muscles gulping the liquid down pulled his cock back further into her mouth until it poked deeply into the back of her throat, threatening to gag her.
He leaned forward over her, his body forming a dark cave that smothered her head. She smelled the staleness of the air under him. There was nothing she could do but let him hump his big tool in and out of her mouth. His organ slammed into her tongue and when she tilted her head up it would skewer into the roof of her mouth and then bounce down toward the center of her gagging throat. She was afraid that he was going to choke her to death with his cock.
He leaned back and changed positions, turning his body around so that his knees rested on the mattress on either side of her head and he faced her feet. His hands played with her breasts and, despite herself, she felt her nipples hardening and coming to life under his cruel fingers. He reached under her head and grabbed her hair and pulled on it until her head was twisted back so that the top of her head rested on the mattress and her face pointed toward his feet, upside down in her vision. He crammed his cock back into her mouth. "Get ready to take it all now. I want you to swallow it all the way into your guts."
She really had no choice. The position left her throat open all the way. As his penis slid to the back of her throat and his balls slapped obscenely into her eyes, she felt the humiliation of her body beginning to respond to his degrading sexual use of her. No! Don't let this happen. I don't want to enjoy it, she thought. But there was nothing she could do. She liked it! She wanted him to continue. She wanted her throat raped. She wanted him to turn around and rape her pussy. She wanted his huge cock rammed into her like a pile driver. It's his spell, she reasoned. Charles made this happen to me. He hypnotized me into wanting Rifter's cock.
But there was no denying it. She was enjoying the humiliation of being used. She opened her mouth as wide as she could. She encouraged him to ram his cock into her throat. Her muscles relaxed in her neck and as each thrust of Rifter's hips forced his prick more deeply into her hungry mouth. She moaned as his fingers continued to massage her breasts, digging into them and milking them painfully. She even enjoyed her nipples being pinched and mashed between his fingers.
Rifter noticed the change in her immediately. He felt her throat relax and her head turn slightly so that his rod would more easily slip down her throat. He moaned with pleasure as his cock buried itself into the warm wetness of her throat. He was going to fuck her to death. He would fill her stomach with more cum than she had ever had before. He hunched his hips viciously, enjoying the slapping sound of his balls against her face.
"Eat it up, baby," he said. "Suck it down. Aaaaaah, that's good."
He slowed his pace. He wanted to feel each inch of his big cock going down her throat. Drawing it out of her mouth until only his blood-engorged head was inside her lips, he pushed slowly forward with his hips, enjoying the friction to his inflamed pole as its head and shaft began sliding over her tongue and into her throat, down deeper and deeper. And finally he reached the end as the last of his cock buried itself in her throat. He pushed even harder, forcing the base of his cock against her lips, smothering her nose with his hairy balls and covering her chin with his pubic hair.
Leaving his tool stuffed to the hilt in her mouth, Rifter rotated his hips, grinding against her face, and hunched forward in small whipping motions that snapped his balls again and again into her face. The slapping sound of his balls against her face excited him to the point that his balls drew up in preparation of releasing a huge load of cum into her stomach. He held back to make it last as long as he could. He reached forward with his hands and trailed his claw-like fingers down her stomach until he reached the vee of her crotch. He dug his fingers into her matted hair, separating the fleecy curls like plowing through a jungle until her pelvis lurched up against his hands, begging them to continue. He stroked the hair-lined outer lips of her pussy. She moaned at his touch, lost in delirious yearning.
"You're a sexy little bitch," he groaned, his finger now probing inside her cuntlips, separating her tender pink petals to get at the node-like jewel of her clitoris which stood erect and ready above her vaginal entrance. He toyed with her button with his fingertips, flicking it into turgid eagerness. "You like it, don't you, bitch?" he asked, but with his cock filling her mouth she could only moan her response.
His hips kept up a slow rhythmic movement over her face as his cock slid in and out of her throat. He was careful that he didn't pull his prick out far enough for the head to come out of her mouth. She sucked air into her lungs each time he pulled his cock backward and the feeling of the air rushing past his head and along the shaft of his penis to get to her lungs excited him even more.
While his fingers dug into her pussy, he lowered his head to her stomach. He wanted her breasts in his mouth but he couldn't draw his head back far enough to reach them and so he settled for lathing her stomach with his tongue and sticking the tip of it into her navel. He sucked at her velvet-smooth skin and nibbled it with his teeth. Pushing his face hard into her center, he sucked a mouthful of her flesh into his mouth and bit down hard, burying his teeth into her sensitive skin until the pain burned into her like a branding iron and she squirmed frantically back and forth, twisting and kicking her legs in an effort to relieve the pain. He made a circular tattoo of bites around her navel, relishing the jerking of her body.
He worked first two and then three fingers deeply into the center of her pussy, feeling the slick lubrication of the delicate pink walls of her inner cunt. Her pussy gripped his fingers like a glove and when he tried to stab the fourth finger in as well, he couldn't find room to accommodate it. He pushed harder, cruelly forcing her delicate flesh to stretch beyond its limits. And when he did get all four fingers in her, his fingers were squeezed together and he couldn't get them in past his second nuckles.
Rifter felt his balls churning hotly, threatening any second to discharge their load into her mouth. He hunched his cock in her mouth with increased fervor and stabbed frantically with the fingers of his left hand while he manipulated her clitoris with the first finger of his right hand, rotating the nub up and down at an ever increasingly faster rate until he could tell that she was close to exploding in a massive orgasm of her own.
He could hold back no longer and his balls belched out their hot load of seething cum deeply into her mouth as spurt after spurt of white viscous liquid gushed into her and burned its way down her throat. His body hunched as mighty spasms of release racked his body.
As his hot cum scalded its way down her throat, Brenda's own orgasm took her by surprise, exploding to the surface like a suddenly burst dam. Her body contorted violently and she bucked under him, her whole body arching high into the air until she was bowed backward with only her heels and head touching the bed. Her cock-filled mouth muffled the scream that burst from her lungs. "AAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!" Wave after wave of sensuous discharge racked their bodies until they were both drained and exhausted.
When Rifter finally rolled off her, dragging his now flaccid cock wetly across her face and down her neck, Brenda felt the shame and humiliation of what she had done and how she had acted. But it wasn't her fault, she told herself. She was under a spell. Wasn't she?
CHAPTER SIX
Sandy Treeman climbed into the back seat of the yellow cab and told the driver to take her to the Plaza Hotel. She leaned back in her seat as the taxi pulled away from the curb and headed into town. She had tried all morning to reach Brenda on the phone, but she had been unable to get her. She's either not answering her phone or she's tied up in some convention meeting, she thought. Either way, Sandy was tired of waiting. She wanted to get Brenda out of the hotel and back to that hick town she had come from. Charles Stern was too much of a man to be wasted on Brenda and if she had read him right the night before-and she was seldom wrong when it came to figuring out men-he wanted to develop a relationship with her that would last longer than a quick fling. He had tried to hide his feelings by the way he had acted, but she hadn't been fooled.
Sandy also wasn't fooling herself. If she was going to make any progress toward winning Charles Stern over for herself, she would have to get Brenda out of town or somehow discredit her in his eyes. Sandy opened her handbag and took out a cigarette and lit it. Discrediting Brenda might be more practical than talking her into going back home. Charles Stern seemed to be quite a traveler. It wouldn't seem like an obstacle to him to go to another town to find someone he wanted to see. What she had to do was fix it so he wouldn't want to look her up.
When the taxi pulled up in front of the Plaza Hotel, she still hadn't decided exactly how she was going to go about accomplishing her goal, but she knew that something would come up. She paid the driver and hurried into the lobby. She rode the elevator up to the third floor and walked down to Brenda's room. She hadn't really expected her to be there, but Brenda's voice responded almost immediately to her knock.
"Who is it?"
She sounded like she had been crying. "It's me. Sandy Treeman."
The door opened and Brenda stepped back to let her in. Her eyes were red and she wore only a thin robe clutched around her. "Thank God it's you," she said, wiping her nose with a Kleenex. And then she burst into tears and rushed into Sandy's arms like a scared child. Sandy found herself in the position of comforter, whether she wanted it or not.
"For God's sake, what's wrong?" Sandy asked, patting her hair and holding her until she had calmed down enough to talk.
"It's Rifter," Brenda sniffed, stepping back, embarrassed now.
"Who's Rifter?"
"I'm not sure. I think he works for Charles Stern once in a while."
Sandy looked around the room. The bed was unmade and the air had a staleness to it that depressed her. "Well, the first thing we're going to do is get you dressed and get out of this room. Have you had lunch yet?"
Brenda shook her head. "I wasn't hungry. Sandy, I've got to talk to you."
Sandy walked over to the closet and opened it. "Fine but first get dressed and let's go down to the coffee shop. You can tell me all about it over a ham sandwich."
Reluctantly, Brenda agreed. But by the time they were sitting across from each other in the hotel coffee shop and Brenda had finished a cup of hot coffee, she agreed that it had been a good idea to get out of her room to talk. She felt much better now that Sandy was there. "What did you find out about Charles Stern? Don't you agree that he's capable of hypnotizing someone, like I said?"
Sandy nodded. "Possible." She wasn't sure what tact to take yet. "But what was it you wanted to tell me so bad about upstairs?"
Brenda hesitated now, unsure of how to word it or whether she even should say anything, but then her need to tell overcame her hesitancy and she related to Sandy everything that had happened to her since seeing Sandy the evening before. When she was through talking, she couldn't look at Sandy. Somehow when she said what had happened out loud, it seemed different than when it was actually happening. She found it hard to believe herself that it had happened just the way she said it had.
"That's some story," Sandy said, whistling. "What does this Rifter look like?"
Brenda told her. "Why? Do you know him?"
"I thought I might at first," Sandy lied. "But I guess not."
If Rifter was the person she thought he was, he certainly didn't work for Charles Stern-at least, not on a full time basis. He might do odd jobs for him once in a while, but that would be about all because the Rifter she knew was nothing but a pimp. She didn't like pimps. She didn't have one and she never would. She was disappointed to think that Charles Stern would use the services of a pimp, but if he did, she was sure that he wouldn't use him to get girls for himself. Maybe he used Rifter to line up entertainment for clients or something.
"If you didn't want Rifter doing that to you, why didn't you scream or something? Anybody could have heard you through those walls."
Brenda looked away. "I was afraid Charles would find out," she said.
"Charles?"
"I mean Ross. Oh, my God, what am I saying. I mean Ross."
Sandy smiled to herself. A Freudian slip? It was becoming more important than she had at first realized to discredit Brenda in Charles' eyes.
"Maybe I can help you get over the hold Charles Stern has on you," she said, carefully weighing her words, making a plan in her mind as she went along.
"Oh, would you, Sandy?" Brenda reached out and grasped her friend's hands. "I don't know what to do. I'm afraid to go home with this unsettled and I'm afraid to stay here. I can't concentrate on the convention or anything else." She started to cry again and quickly opened her purse and pulled out another Kleenex. She blew her nose and looked up at her companion. "I don't know what I'd do without you. You've been so helpful."
Sandy smiled. "Don't worry, kid. I'll fix you up."
* * *
Before she went up to Rifter's suite, Sandy tried again to reach Charles Stern by telephone, but each time the phone was answered by Frank, who told her that Mr. Stern had gone out on a business trip early that morning and wasn't scheduled to be back till late that night. She wasn't sure if Frank was telling her the truth or brushing her off. It didn't matter. If she had to, she would get back in to see him the same way she had the first time.
Now standing outside Rifter's suite, she adjusted her nylons, took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It was answered by a beautiful ebony-skinned girl whose eyes said she was flying very, very high on some kind of drugs.
"Yeah. What do you want?" she said.
"Get the hell away from that door," a voice from inside shouted. The girl was pushed aside roughly and Rifter took her place. When he saw her, his eyes turned lustful and he stared her up and down before asking what she wanted.
"A business proposition," she said.
"What kind of business?"
"Fucking!"
Rifter didn't bat an eye. "Interesting business. You giving or taking?"
"It works both ways."
Rifter smiled. "You sound like my kind of broad." He stepped back out of her way. "Come on in." He led the way to a back room obviously used as an office. "Sit down," he said, indicating to a chair near the window. "If you want to get fucked I'll take care of you for free." He sat on the corner of his desk, leering down at her. "I'm a little bit tired right now, but I've still got enough meat here to take care of you." He grabbed his crotch lewdly.
Sandy opened her purse and took out a cigarette. "Keep your tiny prick to yourself. You'll have to content yourself with raping little girls." She smiled and lit her cigarette, leaning back.
Rifter came off the desk in one, swift, fluid motion, the back of his hand smashing against her jaw, knocking her cigarette across the room and bringing stars to her eyes. She squeezed her eyes closed until the dizziness in her head cleared. When she opened her eyes again, Rifter was walking back from the other side of the room with her cigarette in his fingers. He squashed it out in an ashtray. "Want to try a second round?"
She braced herself in her chair. Maybe she had underestimated him. She accepted the drink he poured her and took a long swallow before she risked speaking again.
"You win the first round," she said.
"I win all of the rounds all of the time," he replied. "Now state your business."
She did. She told him in minute sensuous detail. She out-lined the entire vulgar plan and, as she talked, she saw his eyes turn lustful and greedy. His hand reached down and squeezed his crotch absentmindedly while she talked. And when she had finished he looked at her in awe.
"You are the most evil bitch I've ever run across," he said.
"You're not interested?"
"Interested. I'm delighted. It will be a pleasure." He held out his hand and they shook solemnly. He kept her hand squeezed in his after their shake. "I think we need more than a hand shake to seal this kind of a deal," he said.
She tried to pull her hand away, but he tightened his grip. "There's plenty of time for what you have in mind later."
He shook his head, spreading his legs, and pulled her hand toward his crotch. "I could use a little action just to make sure you're prepared to keep your end of the ... 'orgy,' shall we call it?"
Making it with an evil son of a bitch like Rifter wasn't her idea of fun, but she didn't see anyway out of it. She needed him because it wouldn't work if she attempted to set the whole thing up herself. She shrugged her shoulders. "Why not?"
Rifter smiled and turned his head, yelling over his shoulder. "Betty Jean, get your black ass in here."
A moment later, the girl Sandy had seen at the door peeked into the room. "You want me, Rifter?"
"Yeah, get in here and take off your clothes."
"Aw, Rifter, I've been out twice already today."
"Yeah, well you're going to be out on the floor if you don't hurry up and do what I tell you."
She didn't say anything else, but started removing her clothes and tossing them on a chair against the wall. She had been wearing a sweater and skirt, with nothing on underneath at all. When she had finished undressing, she stood as though in a daze in the middle of the room, her legs spread and her hands hanging limply at her sides.
Sandy thought she was a beautiful girl, but it wouldn't be long before the drugs she was obviously on would take their toll on her body. But now her breasts, while small, stood straight out from her body like pointed chocolate cones. Her pubic hair was completely shaven, leaving her dark pussy lips clean and delectable.
Rifter leaned back on the desk, his legs spread, and pointed at his crotch. "Get down here and blow my cock up nice and stiff."
She didn't even question him. Obviously it was a task she was used to performing. She crossed the room and reached down with her hands and unzipped his fly. Reaching in with one hand, she pulled his flaccid penis and balls out of his pants. Kneeling down in front of him, she circled his cock with her lips, tasting the staleness of sex still lingering from earlier. She bathed the under side of his soft head with her tongue, feeling it begin to grow to life in her mouth as the blood pumped hotly into it. She sucked on it in a pumping motion, her cheeks sinking in and out like a drum skin beating a sensuous rhythm in her mind.
As they watched, she bobbed her head up and down over his crotch. She cupped his balls in her hands and milked them very gently. Her mouth began to fill with his rapidly growing cock. Moisture dripped from the corner of her mouth as a thicker and thicker shaft began to show itself between her lips.
Sandy was completely enthralled by the skillful manner in which Betty Jean brought Rifter to erection. She couldn't have done a better job herself and she considered herself an excellent professional. She began to wonder, however, what was to be her part in filling Rifter's need. It appeared to her that he already had more than he could handle.
When Betty Jean drew her mouth back and looked up for further instructions, a huge hard organ, dripping with lubrication, stood out like a lance from Rifter's crotch. "It's your turn now," he said, turning his attention to Sandy. "Stand up and lean over the back of that chair."
Sandy knew that the best thing for her to do would be to obey him as quickly as she could. Otherwise he might start getting rough again, besides which, if she let herself, she could enjoy Rifter. She did as he requested.
Rifter walked over to her and lifted up her skirt, pushing it out of the way over her hips so that it bunched up around her waist. Then he hooked his fingers in the elastic band of her panties and pulled them all the way down to her ankles. She stepped out of them, expecting to feel Rifter's cock coming at her from behind next. Instead, she felt Betty Jean's hands on her hips, kneading and stroking her buttocks and thighs. She looked over her shoulder. Betty Jean knelt behind her and at a sign from Rifter, her tongue came out and began moistening Sandy's crotch.
Sandy tensed her body. She hadn't expected this and she wasn't sure that she liked it. She started to protest, but then the tongue between her legs began to do its job and she felt the beginning of response in her loins. She hesitated too long and soon she realized that she didn't want Betty Jean to stop the expert manipulations of her tongue. She rotated her hips backward against Betty Jean's face and spread her legs to more easily allow Betty Jean to reach her cunt. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips. Betty Jean really knew her job!
She heard Rifter's derisive laughter as he watched from his desk. "That's it, girls. I want to see a good show now." He began removing his clothes as Sandy gave herself up to Betty Jean's servicing. She felt her tongue slip into the valley between her buttocks, travel downward, dipping momentarily into the puckered center, and then moving onto the dampness of her pussy lips. Her tongue lathed the fleecy curls surrounding the slit-like entrance to her love nest.
Sandy reached behind her and grasped Betty Jean's head in her hands and pressed her face tighter into her crotch, feeling the added pressure of her tongue building her to greater heights of pleasure. Betty Jean's tongue flicked like expert fingers between her sensitive pink lips, separating them and dipping into the molten juices flowing from her cunt. Sandy swooned when Betty Jean located her clitoris standing hard and erect at the top of her feverish slit.
Betty Jean sucked the sensitive node into her mouth, rolling it back and forth on her tongue, tantalizing it and building it to a feverish pitch. Her teeth nibbled her lips and her tongue bathed her center, licking and sucking with a greedy hungry sound.
Pushing herself backward away from the chair, Sandy forced Betty Jean onto her back on the floor and then stretched herself over her on her hands and knees, lowering her hips above Betty Jean's face. She surprised herself with her own actions. She had never made love with a woman before, but she found she couldn't stop what she was doing. Now that she had started, she had to find fulfillment. She lowered her own face to the hairless mound of Betty Jean's sex. Sandy brushed her face over her stomach and down to her crotch. Hesitantly she stuck her tonguetip out and traced a moist line around the vee of her crotch, smelling the fragrant musty smell of sex coming to life in Betty Jean's loins. She stroked her thighs with her fingertips, caressing the smooth dark skin between Betty Jean's spread legs, feeling tremors of response as her fingers reached higher and higher up her legs until they brushed lightly over her smooth cunt. Sandy stretched Betty Jean's dark lips apart, exposing the tender center, hot and sweating with a need of its own. Her fingers dipped into the sweating orifice, probing into her private chamber with mixed curiosity and hunger. Sandy lowered her face and with her tongue, tasted the steaming nectar of her pussy.
They bathed each other's loins now with heightened need, their tongues making a slurping noise as they sucked greedily at each other's cunt. Sandy felt herself nearing a climax and she increased the frenzy of her tongue in Betty Jean's love box, but completion was to be denied her. She felt Rifter's hands on her hips and felt herself being pulled backward and away from finishing the job she had started and from being satisfied by the tongue feasting eagerly between her own legs.
"Nurse each other," Rifter ordered. "Suck each other's tits." Rifter stood above them completely nude now, his cock sticking up hard and ready like a drawn lance, his balls swinging between his legs. Rifter played with himself, keeping a slow steady rhythm of his right hand moving up and down on the shaft of his cock as he watched feverishly as they began to do his bidding and nursed at each other's breasts.
Sandy had never had her nipples brought to erection by a woman before, but she found the experience highly stimulating. And to have the soft, succulent flesh of another woman's breast in her own mouth she found even more stimulating. She cupped one of Betty Jean's small breasts in her palms and, bunching up the tender cone, licked upward from the base of the hill toward the dark nipple crowning the top. Her tongue circled slowly around Betty Jean's breast causing shudders of pleasure to escape in small gasps from Betty Jean's throat. Sandy nibbled at her tender brown skin, tasting the rich creamy texture on her tongue, working her way closer and closer to the erect nipple until her teeth circled the dark areola and she bit down gently and covered the nipple with her tongue.
Taking Betty Jean's other breast in her hands, Sandy traced a moist line with her lips down the inside of the breast she had been nursing to the valley between and up the other mound, lapping eagerly with her tongue on the new breast like she had done the first until she reached the second nipple and brought it to hardness like the first. She nursed from one breast to the other as Betty Jean's breathing became deep and sensual and her hands pulled her head against her.
Rifter meanwhile had knelt behind Sandy on the floor and reached between her legs and touched the swampy tangle of curls covering her loins. His fingertips raked a path from the top of the triangle of curls down and across the lips of her pussy and up between the cheeks of her ass. His fingers dug in hard, bruising and scratching her flesh until Sandy squirmed in an effort to ease the pain. "You're going to get fucked in your ass," he said, pressing the ball of his thumb against the brown puckered entrance to her rear. His fingertips continued to trace along the slit of her cunt, two fingers burying themselves inside her lips while his first finger and little finger moved on the outside, pressing her cuntlips together around his center fingers.
Sandy lifted her head and looked back at him. "No. Not my ass. It's too sore." She thought of the reaming out she had endured at the hands of Charles Stern the night before. She knew that she wouldn't be able to take another cock up her ass for a long time. She was sensitive and sore and definitely not ready to accommodate Rifter. "I want you in my pussy," she said.
Rifter only laughed at her and continued to play with her loins in his crude, painful way, digging his fingers even deeper into her delicate flesh than before, heedless of the contortions that Sandy underwent in an effort to make his fingers less painful. "If you want me to set up an orgy for your friend Brenda, you'll do what I say."
Sandy knew she was willing to endure a lot to get Brenda out of the way and leave her with clear sailing to capture Charles Stern, but there were limits to it. And she did not want him going in her back door. Maybe she could bring him off another way before he complained too much. She waited until she felt his cock against her rear, then she reached down between her legs with her right hand and grasped his pole in her fingers and guided it to the entrance to her cunt instead of. her ass. Rifter thrust forward and his cock, well lubricated from Betty Jean's mouth, slipped easily into the center of her pussy. Immediately he pulled it back out. "I don't want it there," he growled. "I said in your ass."
This time he held his cock in his own fingers and guided it to her tight, puckered orifice. Sandy felt his slick, bulbous head press against her rectum. She clenched her muscles against his invasion.
"No," she said, "not there." But she couldn't keep him out as he forced his cock into her with a vicious thrust of his hips, grinding his hot pole into the center of her ass with the fury of a demon. Sandy screamed against the pain. "No! Stop!" His tool tore back and forth inside her, raking and tearing against her tender inner membrane.
Betty Jean didn't stop sucking and pulling at her breasts as she tried now to get away from Rifter's penetration by crawling away, but they both had their hands on her, pulling at her, forcing her to remain squatted on her hands and knees as they satisfied themselves with her body. When she attempted to raise herself up from Betty Jean's breasts, Betty Jean gripped her hanging breasts in clenched fists and pulled her back down till her mouth covered her nipples once again. Rifter didn't ease the speed with which he honed his tool in and out of her ass.
Kicking backward with her right leg, Sandy managed to dislodge Rifter's cock long enough to roll sideways away from Betty Jean.
"Stop it," she repeated. "It hurts too much back there."
Rifter grabbed her hips and attempted to roll her back onto her stomach, but Sandy was too fast for him and scooted out of his reach across the carpet, his fingernails leaving red welts down her thighs as she pulled free. She looked at her legs. "Damn you, Rifter." She kicked at his face with her feet, attempting to stab her pointed toe into his eyes, but he blocked her aim with his right hand and drove his left fist at her exposed cunt. His fist struck her high, barely clipping the matted hair covering her mound, and skidded across her tensed stomach muscles to explode into her breast.
Sandy couldn't get her breath. The spot between her breast felt as though she was being scalded over a fire. Pushing herself further away from him with her elbows, Sandy aimed her toes threateningly at his eyes. On his knees, he held back, watchful, his fists clenched. Should she go all the way to keep him from fucking her ass ? If she did, she would only have one chance. She realized she would have to go for his balls. But if she missed, she was afraid of the consequences. She knew she had to try, though.
She feigned with her right foot, jabbing it up toward his eyes, and then lashed out with all the fury and strength she could muster with her left foot, toes curled back, aiming savagely at his balls as they swung like two unprotected self-destruct explosives wired to his body. All she need do was make contact with that first, deadly kick and he would be huddled up on the floor at her feet, screaming and helpless. She would be able to do anything she wanted with him. She could stick a light bulb up his ass and he wouldn't be able to do anything to stop her. And then she could leave if she wanted to. But if all that did happen, she could kiss any chance of him organizing the trap to get rid of Brenda. Concerned with the consequences of an accurate aim, Sandy attempted to halt her foot halfway in her kick. She couldn't stop her foot, but instead of the deadly contact she had originally planned, her toes struck his balls in a glancing blow that, while doubling him up momentarily, didn't put him out of commission very long. And when he pushed himself back to his knees and she saw the grimace combined with anger in his eyes, Sandy knew she had made a mistake that she was now going to have to pay for.
When he reached over, grabbed his trousers, and ripped his wide leather belt free, Betty Jean scrambled across the room out of the way of Rifter's fury, leaving Sandy to face him alone. She pressed her lips together and clenched her fists, but when the belt lashed out hotly, nipping away at her legs and body, there was little that she could do other than endure the pain, taking lash after lash until Rifter had tired himself and expended his anger.
"I don't like teasers," he snarled, his chest heaving from his exertion. "When you play in my ball game, you play the way I tell you."
Sandy didn't trust herself yet to reply. She fought to keep her voice under control, refusing to cry out, being the only means she had left to defy him. Yet something kept her from carrying that too far as well. When Rifter acted his cruelest, she found him the most stimulating. It was that same feeling of submission that she had found attractive in Charles Stern the night before. Now she found herself again, hot and sweating between her legs with that familiar building of tension that demanded to be gratified.
When he grabbed her ankle and pulled her closer to him, his free hand drawn back, palm out, she didn't protect herself as well as she could have. He slapped her face twice, hard. Then he began working on her body, slapping first her breasts and stomach, then her arms when they got in his way. She fought back only hard enough to keep him interested. And when she could take no more, she moved in close and circled his hips with her thighs, her hands going to his cock and guiding it into her hot vulva.
Rifter allowed her to think for a moment that she had won. He leaned forward and lunged his throbbing pole into her with all the angry strength he could muster. And when he felt himself drawing to a climax, he stopped plunging his dagger-like phallus into her cunt and leaned heavily against her, bruising her with his weight.
"You're going to get your ass flooded with my cum whether you like it or not," he vowed, his fingers digging into her tender thighs and lifting her weight easily into the air. He bent her legs upward until her knees were pressed almost to her chin, lifting and separating the cheeks of her ass to his unsatisfied lust.
Sandy felt his knob again at the puckered eye of her anus. Desperately she churned her hips in a circular motion in a futile attempt to avoid his darting organ. His angry penis stabbed wetly into the crease of her ass, sliding along the groove, desperately attempting to bury itself in her hot rear as she struggled to avoid the pain of penetration.
Combined with anger and determination, Rifter reached the end of his patience. Savagely now, he twisted Sandy's arms behind her back and mashed her knees tightly against her shoulders with his upper arms and, at the same time, gouging his elbows into her hips for stability, he poked carefully with the feverish, swollen head of his cock until he located her quivering rear entrance. Then with one mighty thrust, rammed his organ home, skewering his lance into her hole with bull's-eye accuracy.
Sandy screamed out in protest as pain filled her rectum like a burning club being jammed again and again into her sensitive anal cavity. She struggled to pull her hands free from his maniacal grip and to unpin her lower body from his searing flesh, holding her captive like a bug on a pin. His strength was too much for her, however, and she was completely helpless in his arms-the exact opposite of the condition she had hoped for when she made the decision to strike out at his balls. When he lowered his head and began biting her breasts, Sandy felt like a helpless animal being ravished by a beast. She loved it. She spat filthy names into his ear, calling him all of the perverted things she could think of, but now her legs were wrapped around him so tightly that he couldn't have deprived her of his punishing cock had he tried to withold it. He thrust again and again into her body, and with each thrust, Sandy pulled him even deeper with her legs.
Now that there appeared to be no danger to herself, Betty Jean ventured out of her corner and crawled slowly across the room till she squatted beside them. She felt left out somehow and mischievously looked around for some way to participate. As she watched them, her right hand slipped between her legs to the smooth mound of her own loins. Her fingers separated her hairless lips and dipped inside to stroke the moist, rigid button buried sheath-like at the top of her gaping slit. With her left hand she reached into the tangle of their legs to the pumping union of their sexes. She found the sack containing Rifter's bloated balls and hefted it in her palms, her fingers separating his sensitive globes and rolling them carefully between her fingertips. She traced a line up from his scrotum to the base of his glistening shaft as it continued to dart in and out of the dark forbidden hole of Sandy's ass.
She felt the slickness of his cock between her fingertips and impishly pressed her nails, catlike, into his sensitive skin as it shot back and forth across her claws. Rifter was too lost in the delirium of his own sexual need for the punishment of his organ to register in his mind as anything other than pleasure. Carried away by the sensual urging of her own sex, Betty Jean increased the area of her slashing claws, raking upward savagely into his balls and crisscrossing thin red lines on his buttocks and thighs, while with her right hand she worked feverishly at her own cunt, stabbing her fingers deeply inside and drawing them back out over her clitoris in a feverish burst of speed and need.
Betty Jean brought herself quickly to the point of climax. Her fingertips caressed her clitoris until it danced rigidly in its sheath like a jumping flame, ready to ignite her entire body. She slowed the movement of her hand, tantalizing her nerve endings and bringing herself, tense and panting, to the edge of eruption. With a savage upward slash of her knifelike nails against Rifter's hanging balls, Betty Jean hurled herself into violent, body-wrenching orgasm. And as Rifter's balls slammed into his ass with a loud slapping sound, Betty Jean screamed herself into a tightly huddled ball, her arms squeezed between her stomach and thighs, while her hands clawed demandingly at her cunt.
"Ooooohhhhh," she panted.
As Betty Jean quivered frenzidly against them, Sandy felt fire explode into her like a molten eruption as Rifter's body sprang forward, burrowing his cock into her anus deeper than ever before, as his balls slapped his ass and were whipped back and forth like ricocheting bullets. Cum shot into Sandy's ass, load after load of white viscous fluid. Pouring into her slurping rectum, filling her bowels, Rifter's balls dislodged their venomous mixture deeply into his promised target. They clutched and cursed each other in orgasm. Their bodies twisted and heaved on the carpet like two entwined snakes, tongues forked and stabbing, eyes piercing, fangs exposed.
And finally they were through. They lay exhausted on the carpet, spent. Betty Jean rolled away first. Pushing herself up slowly to a sitting position, hesitating, breathing deeply, sighing, she then crawled on her knees across the room to her purse where she found a cigarette and lit it. She looked back at them a little foolishly, as though she had done something she was afraid they wouldn't like. But they didn't pay any attention to her. They were wrapped up in their own emotions, still entwined in each other's arms, hissing their final release from need.
Sandy held Rifter's cock in her ass until she felt his proud organ grow slowly soft, shrinking inside of her like an exhausted warrior. She groaned like a wounded animal, letting him think he had hurt her, keeping her voice low, almost purr-like. He became soft for only a moment, holding her and listening to her submissive purr, then he pushed her away and sat up. She pushed her blonde hair back from her eyes and looked at him, smiling.
"You were fair, Rifter. But I've had better." She looked away and feigned a yawn.
Rifter snorted at her like a bull and stood up. Keeping his back to her, he walked over to his desk and collected his clothes. Sandy sat up and rested her weight on her elbows as she watched him get dressed. She relaxed and allowed the afterglow of sex to sweep through her like a true winner. She had definitely gained by the experience with Rifter. And besides that, she was sure she hadn't lost his agreement to set up a trap for Brenda.
"If that's a sample of what you have in mind for Miss Martin, I hope you'll make better arrangements. If she's going to be convinced of what I want her to, she's going to have to be raped a hell of a lot more convincingly than that." Sandy shifted her weight over to her right elbow, drew up her left leg and rested her left hand between her thighs. She smoothed her fingers over the cum-flooded forest of curls covering her cunt. "Is that the best you can do?" She feigned another yawn.
Rifter called her a few choice words. "You're lucky I went easy on you." He sat back on his desk, staring directly into the center of her spread legs. She continued lewdly displaying herself to him, her fingers smearing the cum seeping from her ravaged anus up to her pouting pussylips. "You're also lucky I like you." He smiled. "Otherwise I might have made just one big hole out of the two little holes you're playing with now."
She returned his smile. "Would you do that to me, Rifter ?" She trailed wet fingers up her stomach to her breasts. She circled her nipples, basting the pink tips with his viscous cum. "You don't have the balls, lover." Her nipples glistened. "Are you sure she'll know she's been raped when it's over with?"
"She'll know."
"Tell me what you have in mind. Surely you're not going to rape her yourself?"
Rifter looked at Betty Jean for the first time. "Why don't you take a walk or something?" She was learning to be told only once. She scooped up her purse and dress and marched out the door. She glanced back once over her shoulder at Sandy, but her face was blank, unreadable. Sandy found herself wondering what evil scheme Rifter used to keep her in line so well. Drugs was the most likely answer.
Rifter waited until Betty Jean closed the door, then he turned back to Sandy. "All you have to do is pay me the money. I'll arrange to have it done." He picked up a letter opener from his desk and twirled it between his fingers. He didn't know for what reason she wanted him to arrange to have her girl friend raped, but he had an idea how he could kill two birds....If he planned things well enough, he could possibly gain more out of this than he would get in hard cash from Sandy. It wouldn't be that hard. All he would have to do would be to trick Frank into thinking this Brenda Martin was some kind of kook who liked to be raped. And if Charles Stern was as attached to Brenda as Sandy indicated he was, then he wouldn't take it lightly if he found out that his personal secretary had raped his girl. Maybe he would even fire Frank. A vacancy he might be able to slide into himself. The only problem would be to convince Frank that Brenda wanted him to go through the motions of raping her and to make it look real. To do that, he would need Sandy's cooperation.
He tossed the letter opener on the desk and stood up. "You're going to have to do one more thing first." When he told her what it was, she smiled, her eyes almost as vicious as his own. "Write your address down," he said, tossing her a pad and pen. "And be sure that you stay home alone tonight. I'll bring a visitor. Make sure you don't screw it up."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Carrying a bottle of his best Scotch, Rifter stepped out of the elevator and hurried across the palm-lined foyer to Charles Stern's suite. He pushed the buzzer and stepped back. A moment later, Frank's voice came over the intercom. Rifter identified himself.
"The boss won't be back till morning, Rifter. And besides, I don't think he needs you to fix anyone up right now. He'll let you know if he does."
"I didn't come to see Charles," Rifter protested. "I came to see you!"
Frank's voice over the intercom sounded suspicious. "Why do you want to see me?"
Rifter held his bottle of Scotch pointlessly into the air. "I brought something to drink. Let me in." Frank loved to drink. He loved to drink so much that Charles Stern had started keeping tabs on his liquor cabinet. So Frank was always interested when someone offered him a drink. The front buzzer sounded, releasing the latch. Rifter pushed the door open and stepped in. He walked familiarly through the suite to the small back room that Frank used for an office. Frank already had two empty glasses sitting on his desk.
Frank asked as Rifter poured the drinks, "What brings this on, man. You're not usually this social. You must want something."
Rifter acted offended. "You say that after I came to do you a favor."
"I'll have to see that before I'll believe it," Frank responded, tossing his drink into his mouth in one, quick motion. He set it back on the edge of the desk for a refill. "Is this the big favor you're doing me? Bringing me a drink?"
"Don't be silly, Frank. This is just because I like you."
"Friends like you, Rifter, I don't need. Now what do you want?"
Rifter refilled Frank's glass and sat in the chair in front of his desk. "I got a couple of hot ones for you," he said, lifting his own glass and holding it out to Frank in a toast. "Bottoms up."
"Hot what?" Frank tossed the second drink down the same way as the first and placed his glass back in the same place on his desk.
"Women, of course," Rifter responded, pouring still another drink in Frank's glass. "What else do I deal in?"
"Nothing would surprise me about you, either."
"You're not being very sociable to a man buying your drinks."
Frank leaned back and placed his highly polished shoes carefully on a corner of his desk. He rolled his third drink between the fingers of both hands and eyed Rifter curiously. "What makes you think I need or want any of the women you keep dancing on your string?"
"Didn't say you needed them, man. But anybody would want them. They're knock outs."
"And just how much are they going to cost me?"
Rifter put on another act as though he had been hurt by his friend's words. "Man, they don't work for me. They're just a couple of girls who like to get screwed. They're kind of kinky, though." He took a small sip of his drink.
"What do you mean kinky?"
"They like it rough."
"How rough?"
"Really rough. One of them likes to have some big stud break in on her and pretend he's raping her. She's really the hot one. She just loves it. You don't necessarily have to beat her black and blue but she likes it to seem real. She puts up one hell of a fight." Rifter sighed. "But she really is worth it."
"You wouldn't try to con me, would you, Rifter?"
Rifter shrugged. "If you don't believe me, ask the girls." He leaned forward with the bottle and topped off Frank's glass. "Interested?" He could tell already that he was by the way his face turned poker-card blank. Frank liked to fuck more than he like to drink. And he was always ready for a new girl.
"Maybe." He inhaled the aroma of his drink briefly and then tossed it down like the others. "Why are you picking me for this great honor?"
"I'm not picking you. The girls picked you."
"They know me?"
"One of them saw you last night. The kinky one. The one who likes to be raped."
"Where did she see me?"
"You saw her, too. It was in the elevator. I was taking her up to be...." Rifter made quotation marks in the air with his fingers, " ... raped by the boss. I tell you she loves it."
Frank's eyes lit up. "Is that who it is? I remember seeing her. I thought she was just one of your girls. You sure were treating her like she liked to be treated rough. Man, you were really slinging her around." Frank's eyes narrowed. "You sure you were taking her up to the boss? When I checked in on him later he had another girl in his room."
"That must have been her girlfriend. Did she have black hair?"
"Yeah."
"That was her girlfriend. They both want you to fuck them. What do you say?"
"Why do they want me?"
"Maybe because you're big, black and ugly. How the hell do I know why they want you. Look, I'm only relaying a message. If you're not interested, I'll tell them to forget it." He stood up as if to leave.
Frank stopped him. "Hold on. I didn't say I wasn't interested, did I? Sit back down, man. Let's have another drink and talk about it." Rifter settled back. His fish was hooked.
* * *
Thursday evening Brenda Martin sat alone in her hotel room. She hadn't attended any more of the functions of the convention. She couldn't bring herself to face people. She felt dirty. Branded almost. She felt as though anyone who looked at her could tell the awful things she had allowed to happen to her. She sat near the window overlooking the city's skyline. How had she gotten into such a mess? What was supposed to be a simple three-day convention had turned into a nightmare. She was ashamed to go home to Ross. How could she face him now? If he knew the wicked thing she had done, he would never want to see her again. And she couldn't blame him. She knew that before she would be able to go home and face Ross again, she would have to make peace with herself somehow.
She stood up and crossed the room and stared at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser. Dark circles under her eyes told her she hadn't had enough sleep. But how could she sleep, never knowing what evil thing the spell Charles Stern held over her would cause her to do? Her image stared back at her from the mirror, accusing, reprimanding. She turned away and hurried to the phone again. She dialed Sandy's number, but like all the other times that day, the phone rang unanswered.
Brenda had almost mustered her courage enough to venture out of her room to go down to the coffee shop and get something to eat when she heard a knock at her door. Her breath froze in her throat. Had Rifter come back for a repeat of this afternoon? "Who is it?" she called timidly.
"Florist," a deep male voice answered.
Suspecting a trick, Brenda feared opening the door. She hesitated, her hands clasped together at her breast. "I didn't order any flowers," she called out.
"They're a gift, lady."
"Leave them outside the door, please." She put her ear to the door. She heard something bump against the door, then the sound of footsteps walking away.
Opening the door to the limits of the security chain, Brenda peeked out the crack. There didn't seem to be anyone there. A long florist box leaned against the door frame. She pushed the door closed, removed the latch, and hurriedly reopened it and snatched the box into the room. When the chain was back in place, she breathed a sigh of relief.
She opened the box on her bed. Roses. She picked them up, sniffed them, and placed them back in the box. Picking up the card, she looked at the signature. Charles Stern! She crumpled the card in her hands. Sinking to the bed, she pushed the roses out of the way. What did he have in mind for her next? Tears came to her eyes. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? She beat her fists against her thighs, her shoulders shaking. She couldn't let him force her into anything else. She had to stay and have it out with him!
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Sandy opened the door to her apartment, she had expected to see Rifter. Instead, a huge black man strolled past her into the room with an air that indicated he was used to getting his way.
"Where's Rifter?" she asked, looking nervously at the huge man as he helped himself to a drink from her liquor cabinet.
"My name's Frank. Are you Sandy?" He poured Scotch into two glasses.
"Yes."
He handed her one of the drinks, his eyes undressing her. "I don't like to drink alone. Rifter said he'd be here later." He reached out and touched her hair with his left hand, bunching it in his fingers. "We don't need Rifter, do we?"
"Did he tell you the plan?" Sandy asked, stepping back and tossing her hair free with a flick of her head.
"Plan?" Frank tossed his drink down. "He didn't say anything about a plan." His eyes grew suspicious. He hesitated, wondering whether he was being set up, then decided to lay his cards on the table so there would be no misunderstanding. He didn't want to be set up for a rape charge. "All Rifter told me was that you and your girlfriend liked to fuck. Is that right or not?"
Sandy saw where it was leading now. Rifter had set it up to play rape. She would have to put out to this big black stud and convince him that she was doing it for the love of it. Rifter didn't do very much work himself. She sighed inwardly and smiled at Frank. She had a feeling it was going to be a very rough night.
Frank crossed the distance she had put between them and reached out for her hair again. This time she didn't pull away. She tilted her chin up and looked into his eyes. "My girlfriend saw you first," she said. "She thought it would be fun to make it with you." Sandy moved in close to him, her fingers going to the buttons on his jacket. She opened his jacket and slipped her arms inside around his waist. "You're a big mother, aren't you?"
He circled her shoulders with his left arm and tilted an empty glass to his lips. He looked at it, pushed away from her and headed back to the bar. "How about another?"
Sandy shook her head. "Later." She moved close to him again, wanting to get the show going.
The quicker they got to the bed, the quicker he would be convinced to fall into their scheme. "Let me have your jacket." He allowed her to pull it from his shoulders, one arm at a time, changing hands with his drink as each arm was pulled from his sleeves. Sandy walked to the bedroom with his jacket. "Bring your drink in here, honey."
He followed her with his glass and the bottle. He seemed nervous to Sandy. She would have to do her best to put him at ease. Once they were inside her bedroom, she shut the door behind her and leaned against it, watching him. He crossed to a chair in the corner by the dresser and sat down, placing the bottle on the dresser by his shoulder. He looked at her and leaned back in the chair, sipping his drink. His eyes drew together in a questioning expression. He wanted her to make the first move. Cautious. Very cautious. Was he the right man? He was big and ugly enough, but could he be fierce enough?
Sandy crossed the room to him and knelt down between his outstretched legs. She untied his shoes and pulled his socks from his feet, all the time feeling his eyes on her, still questioning. She stood up and moved to his lap, like a trusting child. She slid her right leg up between his, drawing her shin across his crotch, feeling the large bulge in the vee of his crotch. She sat on his lap, keeping herself erect, her fingers working at the tie around his neck. "I'm glad you came," she whispered. "I was afraid you wouldn't agree to do it." She dropped her eyes shyly. "Especially since my girlfriend likes to do it a little different."
Frank refilled his glass. "What do you mean different?"
Sandy looked startled. "Didn't Rifter tell you?"
"Maybe he did, and maybe he didn't. Why don't you just tell me so I know I've got the truth. Just what do you and your girlfriend expect of me?"
Sandy pulled his tie from around his neck and started working on his shirt buttons. "I don't expect anything from you except whatever you want to do. It's my friend who has special requirements."
"And what are they?"
Sandy acted shy and embarrassed. "I wish Rifter had told you. He said he would, so I wouldn't have to. It's not as much fun if I have to say anything." She looked up and met his eyes. "My girlfriend likes to be raped." When Sandy saw the way his eyes burned eagerly, she knew that her earlier fears had been unnecessary. He wanted to do it! Still, she could tell he needed more convincing.
When she finished unbuttoning his shirt, she pulled his tails from his pants and pushed the material away from his chest. She traced lines down his dark skin with the tips of her fingers. "You're not afraid, are you ?" she teased, her fingers going to his belt buckle.
He swallowed the rest of his drink and poured another. "If I do something, then it must mean I'm not afraid."
"Not even a little bit?" She leaned forward and bit his right nipple with her front teeth, nipping gently and then touching her tonguetip to the faint teeth marks. "Aren't you afraid I might eat you up if you get rough?"
He chuckled, beginning to relax as the drinks took effect. "I should be afraid of a little white mite like you?" He sipped from his drink and reached out with the first finger of his left hand and traced a line from her shoulder down to the tip of her left breast. He felt the nipple pressing against the fabric of her dress. He circled the nipple outline with his fingertip and then added his thumb, pinching her sensitive flesh.
Sandy closed her eyes and allowed his fingers to bring her body to life. He pushed her from his lap and finished unzipping his pants and let them drop to the floor. Sandy reached for his shorts and helped him step out of them. He sat back down in the chair and watched while Sandy removed her own clothes. She didn't posture and pose for him like she sometimes did. It wasn't necessary. When he had stepped out of his shorts, his black organ stood up like a thick pole between his legs. Sandy knew she was going to enjoy this. Already she felt her pussylips trembling in anticipation of receiving his big cock inside her moistening cunt.
He spread his legs obscenely to her. "Like black meat, baby?"
Sandy responded by dropping back to her knees in front of his naked sex and lowering her head to his cock. She felt its heat as she held the thick shaft in her fingers and applied her tongue to its underside, licking up hungrily with her tongue as though it were a lolly pop. She pulled his foreskin back from the bulbous head of his black tool. Her tongue circled the throbbing rim, tasting its heat and need. She enveloped the entire head of his cock with her mouth and pumped up and down, enjoying the feel of it growing even stiffer in her mouth and the sound of his moan of pleasure.
He cupped her head in his hands as she pumped up and down with her mouth, her cheeks moving in motion with her throat muscles as she struggled to get his knob down past her tonsils and into the womb of her throat. His fingers pressed on the back of her head as he tried to get more and more of his swollen penis into the warmth of her mouth. "That's it, baby. Suck it! Oooohhhh, lawd, that feels good. Keep at it, baby. Keep at it."
Sandy needed no encouragement. With a final thrust of her head, Sandy felt his slick member slide past her throat muscles and fill her to the gagging point. Her lips worked their way down the shaft of his cock, sucking and slurping his organ deeper and deeper into her mouth until her lips reached the tight, kinky curls covering his crotch. She buried her nose in the tight hair and churned her neck in a circular motion, feeling his rod struggling to sink even deeper into her oral cavity. His black muscular body glistened with perspiration as his hips churned under her.
She felt his feet move between her legs and his toes go to the damp crop of hair hiding her cunt. She spread her legs further apart to make room for him as he traced his toes up the insides of her thighs and pressed against the lips surrounding her gaping slit. She moaned as his toes dug inside her pink entrance and flicked at the node of her clitoris. She ground her hips downward to increase the friction against her lustful nerve endings.
He laughed at her. "You're a sensuous bitch," he said. "Anything turns you on." He pushed her away from him, pressing against her shoulders with the palms of his hands, her mouth sucking at his cock, struggling to keep it in her mouth like a baby at a nipple. When his cock did break free, it made a wet slurping sound as it snapped out of her pouting mouth.
She tried to get his big organ back in her mouth, but he placed a naked foot between her breasts and pushed her away. "What's wrong?" she demanded, looking up at him impatiently.
"You're in too big a hurry. Go get on the bed. Let's take our time with this. We've got all night."
She did as told, reluctantly. She bunched the pillows up at the top of the bed and lay on her back, resting against the pillows, her legs spread and bent at the knees, her sex lewdly displayed to his feverish eyes.. Her hands went to her own breasts and she scratched her nails against the pink nipples, feeling them respond with tingling messages all the way down to her moist cuntal depths. She held her arms out to him impatiently. "Come on, lover. Stick it in me. Show me what you can do."
Frank poured himself another drink and carried it over to the bed. He stood and sipped the drink, staring down at her nakedness. He sat down beside her on the edge of the mattress and poured a drop of his drink into her navel. Immediately he ducked his head and stabbed his tonguetip into the dripping cavity and sucked out the scotch. "Mmmmmmmm! That's the only way to drink booze." He licked his lips and poured another splash into her belly button. She tensed her stomach muscles and a drop of the liquid began to roll down her side. Quickly Frank's tongue caught it and lapped it into his mouth. "Yes, sir. This is fantastic." He poured more of his drink on her stomach, lapping it up as soon as it began to form a stream and run off onto the sheets.
When he had emptied the last of his drink in her navel, he refilled his glass and moved up to her breasts and began pouring small amounts on each of her nipples and sucking and licking at the drops as they ran down the sides of the warm her large breasts. She squirmed under the warm lapping of his tongue against her skin, feeling the demands of her body building within her loins. She held his head and attempted to guide it to the parts of her body that she wanted him to bath, but for the time being, he was only interested in her breasts and the Scotch he nursed from them. "Lower," she pleaded, pushing down on his head.
He poured fresh booze on the swelling of her nipples and lapped contentedly, his breathing heavy and sensual. His eyes were glazed, partly from the booze and partly from his lust. She drew her right foot between his legs and pushed against the shaft of his cock, feeling its hardness and readiness against her sole. "Put it in me, honey," she urged. "Now, baby. I'm ready."
He looked up from her breasts and before she knew what he was doing, he poured a half shot of Scotch between her open lips and pushed her head back against the pillows and covered her mouth with his, sticking his tongue between her teeth and sucking at her mouth to get back the alcohol he had given her. She gagged and almost swallowed the booze before she realized what he wanted from her. Then she caught on and allowed him to quench his thirst from her mouth. When she had spit the rest of the alcohol into his mouth, he pushed himself back, smiling. "I'm going to finish this whole bottle on your body." She realized he was really showing the effects of the alcohol now. His tongue was thick and his words were beginning to slur.
Instead of refilling his glass from the bottle, Frank ignored his glass and poured Scotch onto Sandy directly from the bottle. He slid down in the bed and tilted the bottle over her pubic mound. Sandy tried to push his hand away.
"It burns there," she said.
But Frank paid no attention to her. When Sandy tried to pull away from him, he laughed and circled her breast with his legs in a scissors hold so tight that her breasts were crushed painfully against her ribs. She could hardly get her breath as he squeezed against her with his legs. He looked at her face. "Are you going to be still now?"
She nodded. He laughed. When he poured Scotch over her body and dipped his head between her legs, Sandy bit her lower lips against the initial pain and closed her eyes until the pain began to subside and be replaced by the contented warmth flooding into her loins from Frank's thick tongue, laving her crotch like a starving man. She lifted her hips and spread her thighs to make more room for his face to press against the forest of hair cushioning the triangular area of her crotch. She felt his tongue parting and combing her pubic hair away from the entrance to her cunt.
Frank's tonguetip stabbed into the pink slit between her pussy lips. He pressed his face against her hair-fringed lips of her wanton cunt and worked his mouth into the very center of her sweating pussy, pushing her lips aside with his mouth and burying his tongue deeply into her vulva while, with his nose, he flicked upward against the sensitive button of passion hidden at the top of her filled slit. Sandy moaned as passion swept through her loins like hot oil and spread to all parts of her body, leaving her tense and churning with a need that wouldn't be stilled until she had received the satisfaction of complete orgasm.
"Take me," she begged him. "Fuck me now!" Her hips churned upward into his face and her hands pressed against his head as though her gaping pussy intended to swallow his head whole.
Frank made excellent use of his tongue, slurping over her body like a hungry beast, stabbing in and out of all her cavities and setting her body on fire with sensuous desire. He nibbled the lips surrounding her slit and feasted greedily in the dripping pink pool of her cunt. The thick aroma of her juicy box wafted into his nostrils like a field of flowers. He moaned and grunted as his hunger drove him relentlessly to devour her body like a starving man. Over and over his tongue buried itself deep into her body and his cheeks and mouth sucked and feasted on the nectar flowing into her cunt.
Sandy's fingers tore at the kinky hair covering his head as she tried to literally force his head inside her. Her heels kicked and spurred at his back and shoulders. Her back arched and her hips churned feverishly. As his tongue continued to lave the cuntal slit between her legs, Sandy felt her body drawing itself into a frenzy of excitement. She was so close to orgasm that she would explode any moment and she still hadn't coaxed him into ramming his hard, black cock into her. She was saved by the door bell. Frank rolled over and sat up. "Shit!" He looked back at Sandy's lewdly displayed cunt, dripping with a mixture of the hot juices bubbling from her inner depths. "I bet that's Rifter." He stood up, disappointed to leave the rich flavor between her legs. He opened the bedroom door and motioned to her with a finger to answer the bell.
Sandy grabbed a robe and hurried toward the front door, pulling the robe around her as she went, cursing to herself at the interruption. Another few moments and she would have been there. Damn that Rifter. She opened the door and stepped back.
Rifter strolled in like he owned the place. It made her mad, especially since she had been so close. "You've got rotten timing," she said, slamming the door behind him. She stomped back toward the bedroom, shooting at him as she went, "Stay out here for a while. I'm busy."
Rifter chuckled obscenely. "Maybe you need a little more of what I gave you this afternoon."
She stopped and looked back at him, Frank watching drunkenly from the bedroom doorway. A tiny finger of premonition touched her like a minute thread of electric current pricking out a warning. "No. I don't need anymore of that. I've got all I can handle now."
"You bet your lilly-white ass you do, honey," Frank called from the doorway. "But you gotta admit there's always room for one more." He waved at her with his hand impatiently. "Now come on, let's get back to where we were." He waited for her to walk past him, then followed her to the bed without bothering to close the door to keep Rifter from watching from the other room.
Rifter, however, was no more content to watch from the other room as Sandy was to forget the whole thing. Sandy had to continue and Rifter had to follow them into the room. He didn't even bother saying anything to them. When they crawled onto the bed in their old positions, Rifter simply began taking his clothes off and throwing them heedlessly on the floor, his eyes never leaving their seething, lustful bodies entwined together on the mattress. When he was completely undressed, he stood back patiently by the foot of the bed, his fingers holding his stiffened tool, ready to move into action.
Sandy lay with her back against the pillows resting at the head of the bed, her legs spread wide to accommodate Frank's head and shoulders as he lapped between her pussy lips with his tongue, eagerly swallowing the juices that his hungry lips brought into his mouth. Sandy moaned as the heat grew between her legs. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes to narrow slits out of which she watched Rifter play with his dong at the foot of the bed. She didn't know what he had in mind, but she wasn't sure she would enjoy it if it interrupted Frank from the marvelous things his tongue and mouth did between her legs. Sandy lifted her chin and rocked her head back and forth against the pillow, her hair tangled about her shoulders. She pointed her toes and curled them in toward Frank's hips, scratching long lines up and down his body between his knees and ribs.
Frank ate hungrily and thoroughly from the top of the valley between her buttocks to the top of her slit where the forest of hair grew like a thick carpet over her mound. His skilled tongue probed her most sensitive spots, flicking expertly into her brown, puckered anus and tracing the sensitive trail of her perineum all the way up to her clitoris. He nibbled at the tiny knob sheathed in pink folds of seething flesh. She came alive under his manipulations, scratching and clawing at his body. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and sank his teeth deeply into the outside of her outer lips, completely encircling her vulva and digging a perimeter of teeth marks into her flesh.
He sucked against her lips and slowly inserted his tongue between her pussy lips, tasting the frothing lubrication forced into his mouth by his tongue burrowing deeper and deeper into her body. He rocked forward with his head into her center, moaning and snarling into her muff like an animal feasting on live flesh. His fingers dug into her tender thighs and pulled them open as far as her legs would go, pushing them up at the same time until her knees pressed against her shoulders and her breasts were mashed by her thighs.
Slowly Frank began eating his way up Sandy's stomach. He spent time in her pubic hair while his tongue bathed her moist curls, drawing them into his mouth and rolling them around his tongue. Then he moved up over the smooth roll of her lower stomach, wetting and laving all of her succulent skin as he moved up. When his tonguetip darted into her navel, she couldn't restrain a squeal of pleasure. His hands moved to her waist and kneaded her center with strong, gouging fingers, reaching almost all the way around her.
He pulled her down under him, drawing the upper part of her body down from the headrest until her breasts quivered within reach of his eager tongue. He licked her ribs and circled the twin, heavy globes. He nuzzled his face between the mountainous pink-tip peaks and pulled their mass against the sides of his face, his tongue licking deeply into her cleavage. He moaned and thrashed over her, his hips grinding in a circular motion, his organ hardened and searching.
She pressed her hips up against his upcoming organ and trapped it in the vee of her crotch, her pussy lips grasping and dripping with desire to suck his penis into its center.
"NOW, FOR GOD'S SAKE, FUCK ME!"
She reached down between them and circled his thick, throbbing cock and guided it to her waiting cunt. Its. huge black head forced its way between her lips. The hot juice of her pussy lubricated the rubbery knob of the dark invader, easing its passage into her interior.
"YES, YES," she cried. "RAM IT IN HARD! NOW!"
Frank didn't disappoint her. His hips drove forward like a battering ram. His pointed dagger pierced into the tender membranous center of her pussy and burrowed its way along her sensitive canal, pushing aside the delicate walls as they stretched to the tearing point almost to accommodate him. She screamed and clawed at his back. "YES, YES! AAAAAAAAH !" Her heels spurred his buttocks in an effort to keep him in motion.
Firm fingers grabbed her around her ankles, stopping her feet in midair. She looked over Frank's shoulders. Rifter had caught her legs. He held them now in each hand and, while Frank continued humping into her crotch, pulled mightily on her legs and dragged her down toward the foot of the bed, her crotch trapping Frank by his cock and pulling him down to the foot of the bed with her. Sandy's buttocks rested on the bottom of the mattress. Rifter spoke to Frank. "Roll her over, man."
Holding her by her waist, Frank shifted his weight to his right and rolled toward the side of the bed, lifting Sandy easily on top of him, her crotch still pierced by his black dagger, her buttocks sticking nakedly into the air near Rifter's bulging cock. While Frank kept his legs together, Rifter straddled his feet and moved inside Sandy's open thighs, close enough to plow the head of his pulsing phallus along the furrow separating the cheeks of her ass. His large, bulbous head pressed hotly into her puckered center while Frank continued humping his thick organ up into Sandy's cunt. Rifter screwed his rubbery head into the protesting eye of her rear.
Rifter's large organ stretched the tight, puckered muscles of her ass apart like a flowering bud as he buried himself inside her hungrily. He humped in and out of her rectum, drawing his tool back until only the eager head remained between her buttocks, and then ramming his shaft back inside with a satisfied grunt from his lungs. He kept time with Frank. When Frank drew back, easing the pressure inside Sandy's abdomen, Rifter bore into her rear. When Frank plowed into her front, Rifter eased out the back. Rifter kept this teeter-totter effect going for a few minutes and then suddenly changed the rhythm and matched the thrusts of Frank so that both of them shoved their cocks into her simultaneously.
Sandy felt as if the lower half of her body was being sawed and stabbed by the dull ends of clubs, yet the pain refreshed her and brought her to life. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. She thrust her hips first at one of them and then the other, feeling their massive organs filling her and grinding out their message of need against the tender linings of her body cavities. She purred and rocked between them.
"DON'T STOP," she cooed. "DON'T STOP."
Air hissed between her pursed lips as her breasts swung pendulously under her.
Frank was the first to discharge a thick load of viscous cum into her quivering body. His muscles tensed up and sprang his hips forward like an unleashed bow, his balls sailed with the snapping sound of a whip as they cracked into her buttocks as Rifter drew away behind her. He cursed as his muscles spasmed his body again and again into contortions of ecstatic release. Cum shot into her cunt in spurting loads of hot fluid, filling her insides until his burning venom dripped from between her lips in great gobs of milky cream.
Immediately, Sandy felt Rifter reach a climax, too, his load pouring into her ass in alternating spurts with Frank. Cum filled both her cavities to maximum and then drained like dripping tears from both her cunt and anus as the milky fluid pumped again and again into her body by their cum-bloated balls. As the sticky fluid seared her insides like boiling oil, Sandy exploded in an orgasm of her own. She screamed with the high-pitched wail of an injured wildcat, pleasure and pain wafting over her body in waves of bliss and punishment. Her heart hammered in her breast and spots danced in front of her eyes as her body arched itself backward. Her breathing came in grateful gasps as her climax drained her strength and left her exhausted on top of Frank's perspiring black body.
After what seemed like an eternity, Sandy felt Rifter pull his penis from her anus. She stayed on top of Frank for a while longer, too exhausted to even turn her head to see what Rifter was doing. Finally Frank pushed her off of him, pressing his palms against her shoulders and heaving her to his right. He sat up and looked down at her.
"Man, you're okay," he said. "I don't mind telling you, I haven't had a better piece in a long time."
Rifter responded from the other side of the room. He had dressed already and now cocked his head to one side as he held a light to a cigarette. "If you think she's any good, you're in for one hell of a treat when you make it with her girlfriend."
Frank turned away from Rifter and looked at Sandy. "Is your girl friend better than you are?" His eyes turned piercing.
"No one is better than I am," Sandy responded.
Frank relaxed. "I'd have to go along with that right now. You're really something else." He stood up and walked to the dresser and grabbed the bottle of Scotch. He poured a couple of fingers into his glass, holding up an eyebrow at first Sandy and then Rifter. They both shook their heads and he placed the bottle back on the dresser and turned back to them, the drink in his right hand. "Well, where's the girlfriend?" His teeth smiled whitely at them.
"You don't think you can handle her now, do you?" Rifter chuckled.
"Now or later or anytime in between." Frank clapped his hands together drunkenly. He laughed. "Yes, sir, I think now would be a good time."
Rifter looked questioningly at Sandy who shook her head and then said, "Brenda's not here now, but she said she wanted to 'get together' with you any time that is convenient with you." She stood up and walked across the room to him, flaunting her nakedness, and pressed her hips against him. "You understand that she wants you to rape her?"
Frank smiled. "It will be my pleasure." He tossed his drink down in one gulp. "Rape is definitely my specialty."
Sandy stared at his black naked body. He looked so much like a huge football player. If he wasn't awesome enough to scare Brenda back to her hometown. No one could. "Just remember," she said. "Brenda likes it to seem real. She wants to fight you and scream at you to stop. She doesn't like to talk about it first nor does she like it if you start asking her a lot of questions like if it is okay if you do this or that. She wants you to force her to do what you want to do."
Frank poured himself another drink and tossed it down, too. "Don't worry. You can tell her for me that I'll have a lot of little things for her to do. She'll know she's been raped."
Sandy smiled. "I'll let you know when." She glanced at Rifter and then looked back at Frank. "I'll have Brenda come up to Charles Stern's suite. She'll ask for Charles. That will be her signal that she's ready for you to rape her." Sandy crossed her legs and hugged her knees to her breasts. Any questions?"
"Yeah. When is she going to come up? Man, I'm ready now."
Sandy felt the same impatience. "I'll let you know when." She stood up. "All I can say now is that it will be soon."
CHAPTER NINE
In Chicago, Charles Stern shifted his weight uncomfortably in the overstuffed chair at the head of the long table surrounded by arguing, overweight board members. The meeting had gone on too long considering they didn't have enough information from South America to make a decision whether to go ahead with the huge construction project that would turn virgin jungle into a modern city of brick and steel. He pushed himself back from the table and stood up. The talking stopped and heads turned in his direction. He excused himself and left the room, the talk resuming behind him even before he closed the heavy walnut doors of the board room. He couldn't concentrate on the subject at hand. His mind kept going back to Brenda Martin.
Riding the elevator up to the penthouse, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had done something wrong. It couldn't be guilt, could it? If it was, it was a new experience for him. He had met a lot of women in a lot of different places and had participated in a lot of strange relationships, but he had never before felt that they hadn't been just as eager for the relationship as he had. Did Brenda really believe she was still under the influence of a hypnosis experiment that had happened so many years before? Yes or no, he somehow felt responsible for her-that, too, being a new feeling for him. When he had ordered the flowers for her earlier in the day, he had expected that that would relieve the guilt, but she had remained on his mind. Now, in one way or another, he was determined to set things right.
At the top floor, he entered the penthouse. He crossed through the main room, removing his tie as he went, and closed himself in the library. He sat on the edge of the desk and lifted the receiver. The long distance operator connected him and a moment later the operator at the Plaza Hotel rang Miss Martin's room. She wasn't in. He left a message for her at the desk, saying he would fly back in the morning and meet her for breakfast. He hung up the phone and stared out the large windows overlooking the city. He felt protective toward her? It was ridiculous. Why? He sighed. What he needed was something to take his mind off both Brenda Martin and the frustrating board meeting.
The sound of splashing water drew his attention. He stood up and followed the sound into one of the guest rooms. The door to the bath was only half-closed. He pushed it the rest of the way open with the toe of his right foot and leaned against the door frame. Terry yelped and grabbed at a soapy sponge, holding it in front of her large, jiggling breasts.
"Oh," she sighed, throwing the sponge at him and sinking down in the water. "Don't sneak up on a person that way. You almost scared me to death."
Charles laughed and picked up the sponge where it had bounced from the wall and tossed it with a splash back into the tub.
"Were you expecting someone else?" he asked, stripping off his clothes and stepping into the bath with her. "Holy shit! Why do you have the water so hot?"
"Because I want to cook your balls and eat them for dinner."
"I believe it," he responded, stretching out his legs and resting a foot on each side of her hips. "You've already cooked yourself lobster-red."
Terry leaned forward and began lathering his chest with the sponge. "In that case, you can eat me.
"Not a bad idea," he said, stabbing a foot gently between her legs. "Except I don't like soap in my food."
Charles had known Terry off and on for the last several years. She would come to the penthouse when he was in town and sometimes they flew to the Keys together for fishing. Terry liked active sports almost as much as he did. Perhaps that was why their relationship had lasted so long.
They understood each other's life-styles and were comfortable around each other, neither expecting or wanting anymore than they already had. Terry's career in modeling kept her busy most of the time and she was completely devoted to it.
As Terry washed his body with the sponge, Charles leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He wanted to relax and enjoy it, but he couldn't stop thinking about Brenda. He needed to do something that would take his mind off her. Sex with Terry was the obvious answer. He looked at her ripe body as she scrubbed him. Her breasts danced heavily, dipping their nipples in and out of the water as she hovered over him, her knees supporting her weight. She hummed contentedly as she worked, smiling to herself, her tongue snaking out occasionally to lick at droplets of water.
"Eat me, Terry!"
She stopped scrubbing and looked at him. "Here?" Her expression suggested eating him when his cock was covered with water might be difficult. "How?"
"Pretend you're a fish." He pushed her head under water and held her down until she consented by sucking his penis into her mouth. He let go of her head then and let her come up for air and go back down as she pleased. Once she got started, the idea appealed to her and she bobbed her head up and down in the water enthusiastically, the water sluicing down her face and hair when she came up for air. He felt his cock grow stiff in her mouth, its head swelling and filling her so fully that she couldn't get her lips complete ly closed around him and bubbles trailed up on each side of his massive shaft. It was a new and unique feeling and he wondered why he had never thought of it before.
Her head dipped down into the water like a feasting tiger shark. Water swelled up in waves under Charles' armpits each time she dipped her head. He felt her teeth rake down the shaft of his organ and her tongue caressing the underside of his hot flesh as his rubbery head sloshed into her throat. She kept her eyes closed and when she raised her head, her mouth formed a gulping pink circle as she drew in air and dived back down, splashing waves of water all the way out of the tub onto the tile floor.
Charles placed his feet on the edges of the tub and lifted his hips just enough that he could add action of his own each time her head came down and he felt the sucking contact with her mouth. Her fingers ran down the inside of his legs; her nails raked his skin. When she reached the center of his legs, she gripped his balls in her left hand, circling his scrotum with her index finger and thumb and milking down gently with her other fingers. Her right hand reached beyond his balls and plowed between the tensed muscles of his buttocks. Her index finger stabbed at his anus. He grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm under her and back toward her own crotch.
"Play with yourself," he ordered.
Terry reached her hand down and separated the curls covering her freshly scrubbed cunt. She drew her fingers inside the lips of her pussy and traced the line of her slit up to the already distended clitoris. She slashed and raked at the sensitive node with her nails. Charles could tell she was fast reaching a tense peak of excitement. He cupped her breasts, splashing up and down in the water, in his palms. He kneaded their firm mass with his fingers, feeling their satiny texture. He pinched and rolled her pointed nipples between his fingers.
In his balls, Charles felt semen churning and eager to explode into her mouth. He held back, tightening the muscles at the base of his penis. He altered the rhythm of her bobbing head by pinching her nipples tightly and using them like reins, pulling down on her breasts, stretching them penduously when he wanted her face pressed underwater against his crotch, and pushing them up against her rib cage when he wanted her to bring her mouth up to work on his purple head. Alternately stretching and stabbing her breasts. Charles slowed the up-and-down movement of her body and created a gentle, rhythmic slapping of the water against the sides of the tub.
He made it harder and harder for her to raise her head above the waterline. He pulled on her nipples, forcing her to stretch her breasts painfully to get her lips into the air for a fresh breath. The panic brought her closer to orgasm. Her fingers worked feverishly at her clit, massaging the pink organ to a frantic pitch of tension. She dipped her fingers deeply into the slit of her cunt and hunched her hips forward as though she wanted to impale herself on her own hand. Her hips ground forward faster and faster, creating a crisscross current of waves splashing storm-like on the surface of the water.
Charles couldn't hold back the flood of cum from his balls any longer and with a final thrust of his hips, he unleashed an enormous amount of whitish, viscous fluid into her mouth. As his cum shot into her, he saw her own body convulse into frenzied contortions as her orgasm erupted at the same instant that his did. His semen spurted into her mouth over and over again to be swallowed hungrily into her stomach.
When it was over, they both lay exhausted against opposite ends of the tub, straddling each other with their feet. Terry gulped air rapidly and smiled at Charles. Her breasts floated ponderously in front of her, rising and falling with her breathing. Charles stared back at her, knowing he should feel contented, but he didn't. As soon as his climax had subsided, his mind had gone back to thoughts of Brenda. He had a beautiful, sensuous playmate in the tub with him and all he could think of was that he might have offended some girl he had seen only a few times in his whole life. It didn't make sense to him, but there it was.
"What's wrong?" Terry asked. "You don't seem yourself tonight." She climbed out of the tub and began drying herself with a large bath towel. "As much milk as you just gave me to drink, I'd think you'd feel pretty drained, but I didn't think it would take your mind away. What are you thinking of?"
Charles shook his head and turned away, thinking. He looked back. "Go get me the telephone. I want to reserve the next flight back."
CHAPTER TEN
Tears streamed down Brenda's face. She wanted to bury her head in Sandy's arms and be patted and told that everything would turn out all right, but something in her friend's demeanor held her back. She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of a handkerchief.
"Sandy, I don't know what to do."
She told her about the roses and the message left for her at the desk by Charles. Then she sank down in a chair by the bed and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
"I-I'm afraid of what he might make me do if I meet him alone," she sobbed.
Sandy slid her chair closer to Brenda. She offered no comfort. "I think you have reason to fear him," she said. "I wouldn't meet him alone or with someone. He's too smooth. If I were you, Brenda, I'd go home and forget about him. I'd make sure I never saw him again."
Brenda sat up and shook her head. "I can't do that," she said, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with her handkerchief. She stood up and began pacing back and forth across the room.-"I have to get this settled with him. I don't want to go home until I know that I won't be doing anything against my own will."
Sandy's voice sounded awesome and fearful. "Then you should leave now before something else happens. You never know what he might have planned for you."
Brenda stopped pacing and turned and looked at her friend. "What do you mean?"
Sandy shrugged. "Nothing except if he put a spell over you once and it lasted several years, he could put a spell over you that could last forever. I think you should clear out and not give him the chance to do that."
Brenda shivered and stepped back. "My God! If you're right, he may already have another spell on me."
Sandy nodded her agreement. "That's why I think you should leave now."
Brenda again shook her head. "No! That's all the more reason why I should stay here until I get this whole thing cleared up and settled once and for all."
"You're not going to leave?"
"No."
Sandy sighed. "That's it then." She stood up.
"I've got to go." She picked up her purse from the floor by her chair. "If you change your mind, let me know." She walked to the door.
Brenda followed her. "You're not leaving, are you? Don't go." She held her clasped hands to her breast. "I don't want to be alone tonight."
"I've done all I can," Sandy said too sharply. "If you don't want to take my advice, there isn't much else I can do." She opened the door and looked back at Brenda. "Good-by and good luck."
When the door closed, leaving her alone, Brenda felt stunned. Had she done something to offend her friend ? Why did Sandy seem so angry ? Maybe she should take her advice and leave. What good could she do staying and facing Charles Stern alone? She walked to the window and stood staring out at the city's skyline. No, she had to stay. She had to face her problems head on. Running never solved anything.
* * *
Sandy arranged to have the note delivered to Brenda's room at seven o'clock. Next, she walked to the phones in the lobby, dialed the desk and asked for Charles Stern's suite. Frank answered. "I found out your boss isn't coming back till in the morning," she said.
"I could have told you that," Frank answered. "So what?"
"So Brenda will be up to see you a little after seven tonight. She'll ask for Charles. That's your cue to go into action. Can you handle it?"
"After this afternoon you have to ask," he said.
"I can handle her. You can tell her for me that she's going to get exactly what she asked for."
"You'll make it look real for her?"
"It'll be as real as the real thing."
"And when she cries and begs you to stop, you won't spoil it for her by getting soft and asking her if you're being too rough or any of that kind of shit, will you?"
"Man, when she gets up here, she's going to get raped and, once I start, if she changes her mind it's just too bad for her because there ain't going to be nothing that will stop me. You tell her not to come up if she doesn't want to go through with it. You hear?"
"I'll tell her, but don't worry, she wants to go through with it." Sandy hung up, smiling to herself. If tonight's little episode didn't send Brenda scurrying back home as quickly as she could get there, nothing would.
Sandy left the hotel and took a taxi back to her apartment. There was nothing left for her to do until later. She would check with Brenda after, to see if being raped convinced her that she should leave and not meet Charles Stern. If anyone had breakfast with him in the morning, Sandy wanted it to be herself.
* * *
At seven o'clock that evening when the bellhop delivered the message to Brenda by slipping it through the small opening the safety chain allowed, she became suspicious. She tipped the bellhop, handing the money out the narrow opening and then locking the door behind him. She carried the envelope over to the night table and turned on the lamp. It was from Charles Stern and he wanted her to come up to his suite immediately. She looked away from the note. Why had he sent a note? Why not simply call? And why had he not come down to see her? Also there was no explanation why he had decided to fly back that night and not in the morning as planned. Why the sudden change?
She picked up the telephone and called his suite. Frank answered the phone. She asked to speak to Charles Stern.
"Is this Brenda Martin?"
Brenda hesitated, surprised that he had known who she was. "Yes. May I speak with Mr. Stern?"
"May you speak with him?"
"Please."
"Aren't you supposed to come up here and ask to speak with him?"
"Yes, but...."
"Then that's the only way you'll get to speak with him. Are you coming up or not?"
Again Brenda hesitated. Something didn't seem right, but she had to get this settled. "All right. Tell him I'll be up in a few minutes."
His laugh sounded lecherous as she hung up the phone. She took a deep breath and hurried into the bathroom. Staring at her image in the mirror, she began brushing her shiny blonde hair, at least she wouldn't be alone with Charles. She wished that Sandy had agreed to go with her to meet him. But she couldn't blame her for not wanting to go. Why should she run the risk of falling under his spell, too? She had already helped her more than she had a right to ask. She smoothed her blouse and skirt and turned away from the mirror. She was ready.
Even the carpet in the corridor, pulling at her high-heeled shoes, seemed to be a warning as she hurried down the hall to the elevators. The elevator was empty as she rode up, clutching her purse nervously in her fingers. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, she felt her whole body trembling slightly as she stepped out and circled the elaborate indoor fish pond. She pushed the buzzer on the door expecting to hear a voice over the intercom. Instead, she heard the buzz of the door latch. She hesitated and then pushed timidly on the front door. It swung open.
Peering into the dim interior, she could see no sign of life. She stepped into the doorway. Nothing. Not even a sound. "Hello," she called softly. "Is anyone here?" The fish tank to her right bubbled quietly, its occupants swimming silently in a world of their own. She forced herself to step inside. At least he could have met her at the door instead of playing some kind of hide-and-seek game with the lights off. "Mr. Stern," she called, her voice cracking nervously. Still no answer. She moved further into the room.
"Hello," she called again, unable to control the shaking of her voice. She had just about made up her mind to retreat when the sound of the door closing behind her made her spin around, her heart racing in her breast and her breath frozen in her throat. Her hands covered her mouth; her eyes stared at the largest black man she had ever seen. He stood stark-naked blocking the door, his legs spread, his arms resting on narrow hips.
"Oh, my God!" She stumbled back away from him, further into the room's interior.
His laugh sounded in her ears like the threat of doom. "So you want to speak with Charles Stern, huh?" He swaggered away from the door toward her, his right hand going to his huge cock, pulling back the foreskin and exposing its bulbous black head. He pumped his hand up and down on his organ as its massive shaft reared up from his crotch like a black demon, its single eye staring at her like a sinister omen of evil. The muscles of his athletic body rippled smoothly as he closed the distance between them.
"No," she whimpered, backing away. "Stay away from me. I'll scream."
His smile showed even white teeth. "Go ahead. Scream. It won't do you any good, but I like to hear white girls cry when I stick it in 'em. !It let's me know they appreciate what I'm givin' 'em." He continued walking toward her as she backed further and further into the dark room. "You're heading in the right direction. Just keep moving back toward the bedroom." He smiled lasciviously. "I understand you white girls like it rough. Is that right, white girl?"
"What are you going to do?"
"Just what you want." He fingered his cock lewdly. "I'm going to introduce you to the biggest cudgel you've ever had stuffed up your cunt." He laughed at the realistic way she played her role. Man, was she ever going to get what she had asked for. He felt his balls churning with his cum, ready to flood her box with sticky milk. He could hardly wait to get it in her quivering little pussy. He just knew she was going to be tight and pink and moist. And he was going to split her wide open. When he finished with her, she would be a depleted piece of used-up meat.
Brenda tried to dodge around him to the safety of the door, but he moved too fast for her, cutting her off like a quarter horse in heat with its mammoth prick waving between its legs, the size of a fence post. She stepped back, then tried to feint around him, dodging first to the left, then running to the right. He caught her easily. His left hand snaked out as fast as a bull whip and curled around her tiny wrist. He jerked her backward, slinging her away from the front door and in the direction of the hall. She stumbled backward, loosing her balance and tumbling onto the carpet.
She tried to break her fall with her hands, but she was spinning so rapidly from the whip lash of his arm that she lost all sense of direction and felt her head thud against the floor and her legs tumble embarrassingly over her head. She tried to jump to her feet, but her head spun dizzily and she stumbled back to the carpet, her right elbow knocking over a small lamp set on an end table. She squirmed backward on her elbows and heels, screaming at him, pleading, begging that he leave her alone. His laugh drove fear through her wildly beating heart.
"You're going to get fucked, baby. You're going to get my cock rammed so far up your cunt you'll taste it." His cold smile broadened wickedly as he calmly and slowly moved toward her. His fingers continued to manipulate the tremendous black pole between his legs which grew even larger as Brenda stared panic-stricken at the approaching terror.
She scrambled back against the entrance to the hallway, her right hand grasping the small lamp. "Stay back," she pleaded, struggling to her feet. She drew the lamp back and threw it at him, but he knocked it aside with a flick of his hand, laughing at her feeble defense. He grabbed her by her shoulder and pushed her into the hallway. She bounced against the wall and spun around to face him, backing slowly down the hall as he followed her, his body gleaming with perspiration, his lust bloated organ bobbing in front of him like a black lance.
Oh, God, she thought. This can't really be happening. Not again! Her hands clutched her throat as she moved backward, brushing along the wall, her mind reeling with fear. She stared at his black cock moving closer and closer to her. It's as big as a horse's prick, she thought, shuddering. It's too big. He can't put that thing in me! She retreated to the end of the hallway until there was no place left for her to go except into the master bedroom. Whimpering, she backed through the door. She looked wildly around her for something she could use as a weapon.
Seeing a hair brush on the dresser, she ran to it and snatched it up, holding it above her as though she was confused whether to use it as a club or throw it at him. She watched him enter the room and close the door behind him, his hands going to the lock and twisting it closed. "Don't come any closer," she cried, drawing the hair brush back further. "I mean it. I'll hit you with this."
He only smiled broader and moved toward her, taking small steps, watching her closely, ready to spring in any direction she should run. When he was halfway across the room, she threw the brush. It sailed past him, three feet to the right.
She jumped behind a large stuffed chair and pushed it at him. It was so heavy that it only moved a couple of feet forward. Her shoulder brushed against a framed painting. She grabbed it from the wall and slung it at him as well. He caught it in one hand and laid it carefully down on the dresser. She backed perpendicular to him along the wall toward the large circular bed. He kept her heading in that direction until she felt its edge against the backs of her legs. She was trapped now with no place to run. All she could hope for would be to keep the bed between them until she could circle around and dash for the door.
But now with only the bed separating them, he didn't play the game fair. Instead of circling around as she had, he stepped up on the floating bedspread and began walking across. Brenda reached down and snatched her left shoe from her foot. This time when she threw it, she didn't miss. Her shoe hit him in the center of his stomach and bounced off onto the bed. It did nothing to slow his steady progress toward her. She hopped a couple paces back and bent over and removed her other shoe. The threat of her high heeled shoe did nothing to deter him, either. He only laughed at her efforts.
When he was close enough, she swung her shoe at him with all the strength in her frightened body, her eyes squinted closed against the spurt of blood she was sure she would draw from wherever the shoe hit him. But instead of drawing blood from him, she felt the shoe snap from between her fingers as he caught her wrist in the middle of her swing. He twisted her arm behind her back and pulled her body up against his nakedness. She slashed at his face with her free hand, but he grabbed that too and twisted it behind her.
Holding both of her wrists in his left hand, he reached between her legs and pulled up her skirt till it bunched up around her waist. She squirmed frantically to avoid his cruel fingers. She tried to kick his shins with her feet, but he stepped between her legs and held her backward so that she had no leverage to lash out at him with. He bent over her and covered her lips with his mouth, his teeth circling her cringing flesh and biting down, tasting her fear. At first she started to bite him, but he pulled his head back and twisted her arms until she was afraid she would pass out with the pain. She knew it would be bad for her if she did manage to bite him so she stopped and limited her efforts to trying to break free and escape out the door.
When he released her hands in order to pull her panties down with both of his hands, Brenda pushed against his shoulders, throwing him off balance for a moment and giving her a chance to jump back away from him. They both tripped on the swirling water bed, Frank falling against the edge, his head thudding on the frame with a loud bang and Brenda falling on her back in the center of the spread. She bounced once and rolled over. She tried to crawl toward the door across the bed, but her panties, now around her thighs, tripped her up and caused her to be too slow. Frank recovered from his daze and leaped for her just as she was pulling her panties up enough to gain movement of her legs.
She lashed out at him with her feet, catching him once with the sole of her left foot, hitting his shoulder. She staggered to her feet and ran toward the door. Just as she touched the latch his hand slammed against the center of the door and he pushed her away. He grabbed her right wrist and slung her back across the room to the bed, her legs maintaining balance until she hit the frame. Then she tumbled on top of the spread again. Her skirt tangling around her hips, she tried to dodge clear of him as he followed her and grabbed her ankles in both of his hands.
He lifted her up in the air with ease, separating her legs and raising his hands above his head so that she dangled upside down, her skirt turning wrong-side-out and hanging down over her body, her center exposed obscenely to his lustful eyes. She kicked and squirmed but his fingers held her like steel bonds. He snapped her out in the air and spread her out on her back on the bed as though he were spreading out a picnic blanket. She flopped up and down on the bed, but he didn't let go of her ankles. Instead he spread her legs as far as his outstretched arms would split her open and stared at her center hungrily.
Brenda tried to pull her skirt down and cover herself, but each time she managed to get her skirt down a small distance, he lifted her up again and snapped her back out flat, causing the skirt to fall back around her stomach and breasts and exposing her sex again to his feasting eyes.
"When I get through with you," he vowed, "you're going to be a used-up piece of white meat."
He licked his lips lasciviously for her benefit. And then he tore her clothes from her body with ridiculous ease.
Struggling was useless. His fingers circled her ankles so tightly that she winced with pain each time she tried to move her legs. He spread her open and crawled onto the bed between her thighs, his face a smiling mask of lust. His tongue came out and he dipped his head to her loins, licking around the perimeter forest of her light curls. She cringed at the hot touch of his wet tongue. He licked the insides of her thighs, running his tongue down her tender flesh in a slow path of sensuous torture, starting at her knees and working all the way to her gaping slit. Each trip down with his tongue ended with longer and longer periods of sopping her mound and hair with his greedy mouth.
Not this, Brenda screamed inside. He can't do this to me. But despite her silent protest, she found her body betraying her and beginning to respond to his lewd advances. As his tongue dove into the pink center of her being, she felt the tension in her loins growing with lust and need. No, no, no, no, she pleaded with herself, rocking her head back and forth on the bed, but it was useless. Her body didn't want him to stop the horrible thing he was doing to her.
He grunted with pleasure as his grinning face dived into her muff with slurping pleasure. He laved her mound over and over again with his thick tongue, sucking her fleecy curls into his mouth, twisting them around his tongue, tasting the juices of her cunt. He sucked at the center of her pink pussy like a man dying of thirst. He drank the nectar of her love juices and pressed his face into her crotch, rubbing his nose and cheeks against her steaming center, feeling the velvety flesh of her thighs and moist lips.
Brenda's struggling became less of an attempt to get away as they were to give him more room to get his tongue into her cunt. Her moans became moans of pleasure rather than fear. Her hands went to his head and pulled gently, enticing him to explore her most intimate parts with his mouth. She churned her hips upward, lifting her buttocks and pushing her body upward with her heels and shoulders. Her breath came in deep seething gulps. She wanted this now, but at the same time she didn't. She wanted him to be someone else. Ross maybe? No! Oh, God. She wanted him to be Charles Stern! It was the spell! It was the spell! The spell ... spell ... spell.
Despite this knowledge, she couldn't stop the need that flamed like a hot knife through her loins. She gave in with wild abandon to the lustful urging of her body. She rocked her body to the gently rhythm of the sloshing water bed, back and forth as his tongue probed in and out of her cunt. He slurped and sucked at her tender pink lips, running his mouth up and down her slit, nibbling at her flesh and snorting into her muff with equal urgency. His searing breath swept across her pulsing love nest and brought her ever closer to frenzied passion.
Frank released her ankles from his grip and reached up with both hands and drew her fingers from the back of his head. He tucked her feet under his armpits and, holding her wrists, twisted her arms under her, pulling downward and arching her back like a bow until only her head and shoulders touched the bed. He crushed his face into her pussy, biting and sucking like a starving animal. He licked her ass and buttocks, laving the whole of her flesh and bathing her with his mouth.
His tongue traveled up the crack of her ass, between her quivering buttocks and then back across the perineum to the lips of her pussy, soaking her with his need and stabbing into the center of her vulva. His nose brushed up against the node of her clitoris, tantalizing it, circling and nudging it to life. He snorted his hot breath onto her magic button, flooding it with the air from first one nostril and then the other, first blowing and then sucking her tiny erection into his nose.
He sounded like a feasting pig as he coated his black, grinning face with the viscid juices flowing from her quivering cunt. He wiped his face in the hair over her mound. Continuing upward, he nibbled the flesh of her stomach until he had reached her navel where he stabbed his tongue inside and bit into her skin. He buried his whole face into her, pressing down until her stomach was crushed almost to her backbone. Still holding her wrists, Frank allowed her legs to slip free from under his arms and her body to spring free, straightening and sliding under him until her buttocks slammed against his knees.
He licked her stomach and worked his way up to the valley between her breasts where he nuzzled his nose and face, feeling the twin mounds brushing electrically against the sides of his face. He shook his head back and forth, slapping against the fullness of her breasts, causing them to dance delectably while their pink nipples quivered near his ears. His tongue and lips feasted between her breasts and then began licking up the sides of her breasts, working ever closer to the tender areola that darkened and puckered with desire as his mouth approached closer and closer.
He nibbled her tender flesh as she moaned under him, her face a mask of longing and passion. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. Yearning burned through her like hot sand. She crossed her legs behind his back and churned her pelvis up toward his swollen cock. Her body rocked feverishly. When his mouth circled the tip of her left breast and he sank his teeth into her succulent nipple, she screamed with pain and pleasure. His tonguetip flicked back and forth across the peak of her nipple and lashed its sensitive node with wet fury.
Sucking as much of her breast into his mouth as possible, he pumped his head up and down like a nursing infant, stretching and pressing her breast in and out like an accordion. His teeth drew red lines on her sensitive globes as he gobbled large mouthfuls of flesh and drew his head back. He shifted his attention to her other breast and repeated the process of sucking and biting until she felt like he would chew them up like he would a juicy melon. But she didn't want him to stop. Her body burned with uncontrollable passion. , He began slurping his way back down her body again, moving purposefully toward the center of her splayed thighs. His tongue left a wet trail of passion as his head approached her pussy, dripping with warm lubrication. Releasing her wrists, he reached between her thighs and parted her hair-lined pussy lips, exposing her delicate pink center to his lustful gaze. With a snort of pleasure, he ducked his head and slurped savagely at the overflowing fountain of her cunt. She was ready. She wanted his black cock rammed into her as far as it would go. She pleaded with him. "NOW, NOW ... DO IT NOW."
He straightened up and sat back on his heels, grinning wickedly at her, his face expressing his triumph. "You like it, don't you, white girl?" His cock rose up stiff and threatening like a tar doll with a single eye. "They said you like it." He fingered his massive tool, pumping it, priming it for its lustful invasion of her pussy.
They? They said? But her feverish mind couldn't concentrate on anything other than satisfying the desire that flamed rampant through her young body. She reached wickedly for his cock, her small fingers circling his gigantic shaft. She felt shame and desire as he allowed her to stroke his organ up and down, watching its black, shiny head swell to the bursting point like an overfilled condom. She hefted his balls in the palm of her left hand and scratched at the underside of his scrotum with her fingernails. She let his balls fall free of her palm and swing between his legs. She raked her nails along the shaft of his cock.
When he was ready to penetrate her damp cunt, he hunkered over her, braced on his hands and knees. She guided his organ between her legs, taking a deep breath against the pain she knew would flood through her when he entered, and aligned his cock at the entrance of her box. His rubbery head dipped into the juicy slit and separated her inner lips, soaking itself with her hot, lubricating fluid. He pushed forward slowly with his hips. Her tender lips parted and stretched to accommodate him. He pressed into her deeper and deeper. A scream ripped its way from Brenda's throat as she felt herself being slowly torn apart by his size. So large was his cock that she didn't think there was any way that it would go into her any further, but he didn't stop the pressure of his penetration and before she could stop him, he had ground his mammoth cock all the way in to the base of his truncheon.
Once Frank had sunk himself up to the hilt in her quivering warm body, he relaxed and let the heat of her pussy burn its way up his rod and down to his balls resting against the cheeks of her ass. Her tight pussy gripped his tool like a clenched fist, her muscles rippling along his shaft in a milking motion. He rested on top of her, letting her "support all of his weight, as he momentarily contented himself with feeling the heat of her body consume his sex. Man, he could stay there all day feeling her flesh wrapped around his cock and sucking his rod to iron-hardness. Before he was through with her, she would never be satisfied with any other man.
He cupped her buttocks in his palms and kneaded her tender muscles cruelly with his fingers. She squirmed under him, eager, he knew, to be reamed out like a virgin cylinder. She wouldn't be disappointed, but let her wait, let her beg for it, let her plead with him for what she wanted. He chuckled to himself and spread the cheeks of her ass and toyed with the index finger of his left hand at the tightly puckered entrance to her ass. He pressed the ball of his finger against her clenched, circular muscle, tantalizing, threatening, and then, with a vicious stab, he thrust his finger all the way into her rear. She screamed and tried to disimpale herself from his finger, but each upward motion of her hips buried his cock deeper into her pussy and each attempt to pull away from his cock, buried his finger deeper into her ass. He let her do all the work, frenziedly gyrating her pelvis beneath him.
He covered her mouth with his and forced his tongue deeply into her mouth, exploring and tasting the fragrance of her oral cavity. He worked his tongue in and out of her mouth like a thick snake, alternately spreading and lengthening it, searching the insides of her cheeks, diving under her tongue and crawling over the surface of her teeth. Her mouth formed a suction as though she wanted to swallow his tongue into her stomach. He bit the outsides of her lips and pressed them together like the lips of her pussy.
Finally he drew his hips back, pulling his cudgel slowly out of the clasping lips of her cunt and then rammed in back in with the full force of his muscular body, skewering her delicate pussy cavity and wrenching another scream of pain and pleasure from her lips. He pumped above her in a steady, rapid motion of pure animal lust, filling her with his plummeting organ. He clenched his jaws and plowed his pelvis into her as fast and hard as he could. He felt his hard tool sloshing in and out of her, his head burning with the heat of her pussy, his balls drawn up, ready to release their viscid fluid into her churning stomach.
"GET READY FOR MY CUM, BABY," he growled. "I'M GOING TO SHOOT MY STUFF ALL THE WAY TO YOUR WOMB."
As his black rod slashed in and out of her cunt, Brenda felt her body drawn to an unbelievable pitch of excitement. Her fingers clawed at his back and her body arched itself up against his thrusting hips.
"YES, YES," she screamed. "FUCK ME ... HARD."
Panting and screaming, Brenda unleashed her gyrating pelvis against his cock. Her pussy lips sucked at the shaft of his glistening manhood, sliding wetly over his black, veiny pole as it plunged within the stretched sheath of her vulva. Juice flowed from her gaping, pink slit with each stab of his cock and dripped in viscous gobs down her buttocks and the crack of her ass. His balls slabbed wetly against her and his fingers worked her juices into her asshole.
Her whole body quivered and burned with electrified tension, hovering on the crest of an explosive climax. And then she felt his hot cum shooting into her womb, blasting out of his cock in great, burning eruptions of hot semen, smashing into the walls of her uterus like bubbling lava. And as he cursed obscenities into her ear, her own body erupted into spasms of sensual pleasure that matched the violence of his. They tore and clawed at each other's bodies, lost in the delicious passion of sensual release. "I'M CUMMING ... AAAAAGGGGGHHH," she panted.
Brenda's body arched on the bed, his weight smothering her into the sloshing, dying waves of the water bed.
As her passion drained away, Brenda felt the humiliation and shame of the terrible, wicked abandon she had allowed herself to experience. She felt dirtied and used. She tried to scramble out from under him, but his heavy weight pinned her beneath his spent body. He kept his finger in her asshole and his cock up her cunt, pinning her under him and resting his chin on her shoulder, breathing exhaustedly into her ear. She pushed at his shoulders with her hands and tried to roll him to the side, but his limp, muscular body was too heavy for her to budge. She lay back, panting, her own body as exhausted as his.
Not until his huge cock had grown flaccid and slipped from her dripping pussy with a soft sucking sound, did he remove his finger from her rear and roll away from her. He sat up, grinning triumphantly, flaunting his conquest. He looked at the nakedness of her pussy, dripping with their mingled juices. He laughed and stood up, dragging his glistening cock across her splayed thighs, leaving a trail of cum that oozed from the tip of his penis, branding her with degradation.
"Raping you was something else," he said, calmly stretching his massive arms over his head and flexing his muscles as though waking from an exhausting nap. "You really sucked me dry, baby. I can see that you and I are going to get along just fine."
Brenda turned her face away. Whimpering, she tried to cover her nakedness with her hands. All she wanted was to get away from him, to escape to the safety of other people. She cupped her breasts in her palms and closed her thighs to cover the cum-coated mass of curls covering her violated pussy. She scooted on her buttocks to the far side of the bed by digging her heels into the spread and pushing away from him.
"Leave me alone," she pleaded. "Will you please let me get out of here?"
He shook his head. "Don't be silly. We've just started."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sandy wished now that she had not answered the knock on her apartment door, but she had thought the caller was probably one of her customers instead of Rifter.
"What do you want?" she said, stepping aside as he strolled cockily into the room.
He squinted his eyes at her, suddenly becoming suspicious at her attitude. "What the hell do you mean, what do I want?" He sat down in a chair by the window and lit a cigarette. "We've got business to settle, right?" He took a deep drag on his cigarette and shot a thin stream of smoke at her, dagger-like. "We still have to figure out how to get Brenda up to Charles Stern's suite in the morning and time it so that he'll catch Frank in the act. Right?"
Sandy looked at her watch. It was almost eight o'clock in the evening. If things went the way she had planned, Brenda was being raped right then. It was already too late for Rifter to do anything about it. She might as well tell him the truth, "I've already made arrangements for that," she said, trying to make her voice nonchalant. "Brenda went up to his suite an hour ago."
Rifter sprang out of his chair, his face a livid mask of anger. "You bitch. You know as well as I do that Charles is not flying back until morning."
"So?"
"So that means they won't get caught, stupid."
"I never intended that they get caught. All I ever wanted was to convince Brenda to go back to her hometown and stay there."
Rifter stood directly in front of Sandy, his face leaning forward slightly, his fists on his hips. "Well, that's not all I had planned and you knew it. You agreed that we would set is up so that Frank would get caught fucking her."
"I didn't agree to that," Sandy said, turning away nervously and crossing the room to the liquor cabinet. She called back over her shoulder, "Frank would be in trouble with his boss if he got caught. I never wanted to hurt Frank."
Rifter followed her across the room, shouting at the back of her head. "No, all you're interested in is yourself. Get rid of your girlfriend and have Charles all to yourself. That was your idea, wasn't it?"
Sandy poured Scotch into two glasses and added water. "Yes, that's all I wanted." She turned around and held out one of the glasses to Rifter.
Rifter slapped the glass out of her hand. It sailed across the room and shattered against the wall. "You double-crossed me, bitch." His eyes burned fire. "How would you like it if your girlfriend found out who set her up?"
"That's not necessary, Rifter."
"It wasn't necessary that you screw things up so that I don't get anything out of all this, either."
Sandy took a large swallow from her drink. When she brought her hand down, she looked directly into his eyes. "It's too late for you to do anything about it now, anyway. You might as well forget it."
Rifter slapped the other drink out of her hand. It shot across the room and splattered up against the wall with the first one. "You may think it's too late, but it's not too late for me to get something out of it." His eyes became thin slits. "What do you say you and I join your girlfriend and Frank?"
Sandy stepped back, her eyes growing round with fear. "No! That's not necessary."
"Not necessary, but that's what we're going to do." Rifter closed the distance between them again. "Get your purse. We're going to drive back to the hotel."
"No." She turned away from him, but he grabbed her arm and spun her back around, facing him. "Leave me alone," she snapped.
"We're going to join the party."
"You can't make me." Sandy's voice quivered nervously. "I won't go. If you try and drag me out of here, I'll scream all the way down the hall. I'll scream when we get to the hotel. I'll scream bloody murder all the way." She smiled, thinking she had solved the problem. "So you can take a flying leap."
Rifter's right fist lashed out in sudden violence and buried itself into Sandy's unsuspecting stomach. Air whooshed out of her lungs; she doubled up and crumpled to the floor in quivering spasms of pain, her arms hugged around her middle, her eyes rolled back in her head, pain twisting her face and draining her complexion to a sickly pallor. He rolled her over on her back with the toe of his left shoe. Her legs still doubled, hugging her knees with her arms.
Rifter stood over her, straddling her body, his feet planted on either side of her head. He reached inside his right front pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. Snapping open a blade, he tested its sharpness against the ball of his thumb. He smiled down at her sadistically. "So you think you'll scream, huh?" He leaned over and grabbed a handful of the front of her blouse, running the blade of his knife under each button in order from top to bottom and severed it from the material with a deft flick of his wrist at each button, working around her arms and knees.
He pulled the edges of her blouse open, pried her knees apart by wedging his right foot between them and hooked the center of her bra with a finger. He slipped the knife blade between her breasts and cut her bra in half, flipping each cup aside to expose her breasts. Next, he reached under her ass and slipped his fingers under the waist band of her skirt. He jerked up, pulling her hips into the air and throwing her legs over her head. He slit her skirt apart at the seams and threw the material aside as she fell back to the carpet. He pulled her panties off. Finally he sat her up by pulling her hair and then ripped the shreds of her blouse and bra away and tossed them in a heap with the rest of her clothes.
"You're going to go out of here naked," he said. "And if you want to scream and attract attention, that's completely up to you. I couldn't care less."
Sandy rolled over onto her knees and forehead, moaning, her arms wrapped around her stomach. She struggled to a sitting position, resting her hips on her heels. The son of a bitch had really hit her hard. She struggled to get her breath, the pain in her stomach lessening only slightly. She watched dizzily as he stabbed his knife into the carpet in the center of the room and begin cutting a long slit in the shag material. "What are you doing?" she gasped. "You're ruining my carpet." She crawled over to him and tried to pull him away, but he pushed her roughly with his free hand and continued cutting the carpet with his knife. She crawled back to him again and grabbed his shoulders, but this time when he turned around his fist was doubled, threatening. She jumped back.
Rifter hesitated, then turned back to the carpet. He cut a square section out of the center of the floor approximately seven feet by seven feet. When he finished, he turned the carpet over so that the shag lay face down. He looked at Sandy squatting naked behind him, wide-eyed and nervous. He explained calmly, "You're going to go with me back to the hotel. You can go quietly wrapped up in this piece of carpet or you can go completely naked and screaming. The choice is up to you." He smiled wickedly. "If you decide to go screaming, I'll drag you out to the car and drive you to the middle of Central Expressway and dump you out nude. Maybe some nice guy will stop and pick you up before the cops see you, or maybe the cops will find you first. Either way it will be a hassle unless you decide to go quietly."
The last thing Sandy wanted to do was go back to the hotel. Setting Brenda up was one thing, but facing her later and letting her know that she was the one who had betrayed her was something else again. But she saw the look in Rifter's eyes and she knew that if she didn't want to wind up with a couple of black eyes and swollen lips that she had better do what he told her to. "I'll go quietly," she said, biting her lip, trying to think of an alternative.
Rifter smiled again, showing crooked teeth. "It's about time you made a right decision." He pointed toward the carpet. "Now get over here and lay down."
Sandy did as she was ordered, laying on the carpet on her back and stretching her arms straight up over her head. He folded the carpet over her and rolled her over twice wrapping the material around her. When he was through, he tied the ends together with twine. He squatted beside the rolled up bundle and hefted it up in the middle at her waist and lifted her onto his right shoulder so that the end with her head hung down his back and her feet dangled in front. Unless she made a noise, no one would be able to tell that someone was wrapped up in the carpet.
He carried her out of the building and stuffed her into the trunk of his car. When he reached the hotel, he drove around to the back and used the freight elevator, riding up to the tenth floor and then transferring to a passenger elevator after he had checked out the hall and the elevator to make sure that no one would see him. By the time he crossed the foyer to Charles Stern's suite, his back was aching from carrying her. He started to push the door buzzer, then changed his mind and reached into his pocket and brought out a key. He inserted it into the lock and opened the door.
He didn't hear any noise until he reached the hall and began carrying Sandy back toward the bedrooms. He followed the sounds to the master bedroom and pushed open the door. Brenda and Frank were both naked. Brenda had her hands tied above her head to the frame of the water bed and Frank stood above her with a second piece of rope Which he was in the process of tying around her right ankle. He looked up surprised when Rifter burst into the room carrying Sandy wrapped in the carpet.
"What the hell!" he said, stepping back.
Rifter walked to the bed and pitched his bundle down beside Brenda, causing the bed to slosh up and down and the bundle to bounce against Brenda. "I've got a little surprise for you, Frank. An extra piece of ass. Enough to keep us both busy for a while."
Frank watched surprised and amused as Rifter untied the ends of the roll of carpet and pitched Sandy out on the bed, her face livid with anger and embarrassment.
Frank whistled with surprise, his fingers going to the black tube of his cock. He brushed his palms against his organ which was already growing stiff at the prospect of double-your-pleasure. "What is this all about, Rifter?" His smile showed white even teeth.
"It's show time," Rifter explained. "The girls are going to do a little love making for us-just to whet our appetites." He looked at Sandy. "Aren't you?" He looked back at Frank. "Because if they don't, Sandy knows what I'm going to explain to her girlfriend."
Brenda, lying helpless and confused beside her friend, didn't understand what was going on, but she knew that whatever it was involved Sandy in something that she wouldn't like her to find out. She fought to keep tears out of her eyes. In was too late for that sort of thing to do her any good. She had to face whatever stood ahead of her. Somehow she would get through it. But when she heard Rifter's voice bark out his instructions to Sandy, her very soul screamed out in protest.
"Eat her!" Rifter commanded Sandy.
And then he looked at Brenda. "Eat each other!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
In the back of the limousine, Charles Stern argued with himself as he rode from the airport into the city. Why had he come back early? He had girls everywhere. Why make such a fuss over just one girl. Why wouldn't she stay out of his thoughts? But he had long before learned to trust his premonitions. And something was urging him back to his suite at the Plaza. He leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to take the opportunity to catch up on some much needed sleep, but it was pointless. His nerves were too keyed up to relax. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the valise beside him.
* * *
While Rifter and Frank watched, grinning evilly, Sandy hovered over Brenda, her breasts brushing against her face, and untied her wrists from the bed. "We'll have to," Sandy whispered into Brenda's ear. "Don't worry. It will be all right if we do what they tell us."
Brenda had never felt humiliation as acute as what she now felt. She lay on her back, her legs spread, her arms untied above her head. Sandy straddled her shoulders with her knees, her hands moving between Brenda's tender thighs to trace lines with her fingers up to the lewdly displayed center of her pussy. Brenda felt her inner lips separate and stretch as Sandy dipped her head, her tongue coming out of her parted lips, and lapped gently at her pink, moist vulva. At first, she tried to close her legs to prevent Sandy's tongue from touching her, but when Rifter pulled his belt from around his waist and threatened to lash Sandy's backside, Brenda knew she had to relent to save her friend from a beating.
And then, worst of all, she was ordered to eat Sandy's cunt the same way Sandy was eating hers. Timidly she reached up to Sandy's crotch, hovering only inches above her face, and touched the dark curly hair between her legs, feeling its coarseness, smelling the musty aroma that drifted from her gaping slit. She shuddered as Sandy's tongue brought tingling sparks of sensation shooting into her loins and swelling the lips of her cunt, turning her tender membranes dark with growing desire.
As Sandy lowered her hips, Brenda's face and nose became buried in the crevice between her pouting pussy lips. Her nose and mouth was flooded with Sandy's dripping juices. She stuck out her tongue timidly and began to follow the pattern Sandy took between her own legs, licking and sucking at her tender lips, stabbing her tongue deeply into the entrance to her box with as much force as she could. She rolled her head in a circular motion, caressing her pussy lips and burying her face in her slit. She flicked her tonguetip at the node of Sandy's clitoris, tasting its succulence and feeling it grow to life in her mouth. She moaned as the passion burned hotter and hotter within her body.
Sandy began rocking back and forth above her, setting the water bed into a gently rolling motion as the water sloshed from one end of the bed to the other, bouncing them up and down. She felt Sandy's fingers parting her buttocks and massaging at the entrance to her ass. She allowed her own fingers to follow suit, separating her buttocks and pressing Sandy's puckered asshole with the end of her index finger. And when Sandy's finger tore its way passed the muscles of her ass and buried itself deeply within her, Brenda did the same, quivering with the pain of Sandy's finger, seeing that Sandy received the benefit of the same thing she gave out.
"Man, look at 'em go," Rifter yelped delightedly. "That's it girls, suck those cunts, stab them fingers in deep. That's it. Work 'em in and out. Faster, damnit!"
Brenda sucked harder on Sandy's cunt, pulling her lips into her mouth and running her tongue deeply along the inside of her slit, tasting the flow of her juices, feeling the heat of her box growing hotter against her mouth. She felt her own pussy being worked over with equal enthusiasm by Sandy, bringing her closer and closer to a wave of sensation that threatened to explode her into shudders of orgasmic release. And then, just as she felt that her body would convulse into ecstatic eruption, Sandy's face was pulled away from her now delirious pussy and dragged upward until their breasts bobbed in each other's faces.
"Eat those," they were commanded.
They knew better than to rebel. Brenda licked at Sandy's left nipple, circling its tip with her tongue, her hands pulling at the pendulous mounds of flesh smothering her face, squeezing her breasts so that the skin stretched shiny and hard against her lapping tongue. Sandy's teeth nibbled at Brenda's breasts, pulling them up with her mouth and sucking them in a nursing fashion, her cheeks billowing wetly in and out in rhythm with her head pumping up and down.
"Play with your cunts," Rifter ordered.
Brenda raised her hands above her head and slipped them back between Sandy's legs, brushing across the mound below her stomach and parting the covering of hair to reach inside to the cleft between her pussy lips. She felt Sandy's wetness on the tips of her fingers as she massaged her feverish flesh and tweaked the hardened clitoris hidden in a layer of succulent flesh.
"Not each other," Rifter barked. "Play with yourselves."
They retraced the path of their hands and began working their fingers in their own vulvas, massaging themselves, toying with their exposed bodies as the men hovered above them, their eyes feasting on their naked, burning bodies. Brenda felt grateful that her face was buried in Sandy's massive breasts so they couldn't see the shame written on it. The shame of the degradation and the shame of having her own body respond with such urgency to the despicable acts she was committing. Now that she had started, she didn't want to stop; her body writhed under the coaxing of her own fingers, urging her to consume herself with her own intense passion.
But again, just as she felt herself ready to explode into a body-wrenching climax, Sandy was pulled off of her body and her hands were pulled away from her hungry, enflamed cunt. Sandy's reddened nipple popped from Brenda's mouth with a slurping sound.
"Roll them over," Rifter said. "Let's stick it in their ass."
Brenda and Sandy were ordered to line up side by side on the bed, their faces lying flat, their knees drawn up under, them, their rears protruding into the air at the edge of the bed, their assholes exposed. Rifter stood behind Sandy, Frank behind Brenda.
"You go first," Frank said. "I want to watch you split her ass open with that white cock of yours."
Looking over her shoulder, Brenda watched Rifter unzip his fly and pull out his cock. It stood up in front of him like a huge club topped with a purple bulb. He pressed it into the crevice of Sandy's ass and hunched his hips forward. Sandy screamed beside her as his monstrous distended flesh ripped into the puckered center of her anus, penetrating into the delicate passageway like a beast after honey. He hunched his hips forward and back, stabbing into her buttocks like a madman, his balls slapping viciously into the backs of her thighs with the sound of a belt beating a rhythm on her flesh. Sandy's scream of pain turned into low animal moans as Rifter continued reaming his tool into her rear.
Brenda saw that Sandy had slipped her hands between her legs and was masturbating herself as Rifter fucked her ass with his cock. Sandy's eyes were closed and she was lost in the sensual rhythm of Rifter's invasion of her ass. Rifter's fingers kneaded the flesh of Sandy's hips. His own eyes feasted on the cruel union of their bodies.
Rifter looked over at Frank, then down at Brenda's rear sticking up in the air, her buttocks quivering nervously, dreading the inevitable. "Stick it in her, man. What are you waiting for?"
Frank's black fingers caressed Brenda's buttocks, running over the smooth cheeks of her ass and down the cleft to the tightly puckered entrance. He smiled and toyed with his fingertip at her anus, his cock standing up like a telephone pole, ready to split her cheeks and asshole apart. With his left hand, Frank guided his cock to her crack, running its shaft parallel with the valley between her ass, sawing it back and forth, first poking his head up the back side of her body, massaging the underside of his penis and then poking his head down the underside of her body so that the top of his shaft slid against her cunt and its head plowed through the triangular patch of hair covering her mound, tantalizing her, threatening her.
"NO!" she begged. "PLEASE. NOT MY ASS. I CAN'T STAND IT THERE. YOU'RE TOO BIG."
He only laughed at her. And then he gripped her hips in both of his hands and lifted her easily into the air with only her face still touching the bed and leaned over, his mouth close to her butt and spit a mouthful of saliva into the center of her asshole. Lowering her back to the bed, he held his cock in his left hand and guided its black head to her ass again, rubbing his saliva around the brown eye of her ass, ready to force himself into her body.
Suddenly the bedroom door opened with a loud crash as it banged against the wall. Brenda turned to see Charles Stern filling the doorway completely with his large muscular body. At first, his face appeared twisted in rage, but quickly he brought it under control and he leaned against the door frame and smiled. He looked at each of them individually, his eyes resting on Brenda the longest. And strangely the ice-blue of his eyes seemed comforting to her, but that feeling only lasted an instant-until she realized his intention was only to join the party. He called Frank over to him and the two of them whispered among themselves for a moment.
Rifter appeared nervous and started to draw his cock out of Sandy, but Charles spoke sternly. "Just keep screwing her, Rifter." And then he continued whispering with Frank. At first Frank's expression seemed guilty and repentant, but then it changed to a smile and he slapped Charles buddy-like on his shoulder. Frank walked back to Brenda, only this time he didn't touch her. Instead it was Charles Stern who touched her. He removed his clothes and strolled across the room naked, his mammoth cock erecting itself into an iron-hard tool. And by the time, Charles' hands touched Brenda's hips, his penis throbbed eagerly at her backside, ready to take the place of Frank's black tool.
Charles rubbed the head of his cock in the crack of Brenda's ass, lubricating it like Frank had done earlier.
"OH, PLEASE," Brenda begged. "DON'T. IT'S TOO BIG TO GO IN THERE."
"Don't worry," Charles answered, moving his now lubricated phallus down lower to the lips of her pussy, separating them with his tool and preparing to mate with her cunt. "We're saving an asshole for Frank's cock." And then he thrust his hips forward, burying his instrument deeply into her quivering pussy.
Brenda's entire body quivered as his organ drove into her, filling her cunt with hot flesh. She sucked in her breath as her pussy lips swallowed his penis deeply into her body, engulfing him with gratitude. And for the first time, she let herself go completely, relishing his need of her body. Thankful it was Charles who ground his organ deeply into her dripping vulva, she arched her back, lifting and spreading herself to his feverish onslaught.
His arms circled her hips and his fingers searched the plunder of their flesh, massaging and caressing her mound, pressing her clitoris against his cock as it dove in and out of her cunt. He moved his hands on to her breasts, cupping them and squeezing them in his palms. And when Brenda's orgasm came, thundering out of her body in an explosive eruption of insight, she realized that what she felt for Charles Stern wasn't fear or resentment, but desire. She desired him. She desired his body and soul. And that was why all those years she had been afraid of him and thought that he had some kind of power over her. She had been ashamed to admit the natural response of her body to his.
She squeezed her eyes closed and bit her lower lip as orgasm rippled through her entire body. His cock thrusts into her cunt speeded to jackhammer intensity as his balls slapped like rocks against her body and then he, too, exploded into body-wrenching convulsions of sexual release. And as his cum flooded her pussy, she couldn't restrain screaming her need. "FUCK ME ... FUCK ME! I'M CUMMMMMMMINGGGGGGG!"
Their orgasm seemed to go on for eternity as his cock shot load after load of viscid liquid boiling into her womb. Convulsion after convulsion rocked their lusting bodies. And then finally it was over. Brenda crumpled beneath him, her body spent, her tension drained. She was left with such a feeling of contentment and peace that she felt she could lay there forever with his organ draining into her, while her pussy drank the delicious cum still oozing from his cock.
But then she remembered she wasn't to be allowed that pleasure. Frank's black dagger still stood an impatient erect weapon, waiting to be used. And for that purpose, an asshole had been promised.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
In her room, Brenda busied herself with the last of her packing. She had already called for a bellhop to come up for her bags. Things had changed considerably since the night before. Charles sat in a chair by the window watching her pack. She had hoped to set things right between them, but she had never dreamed how right between them things would become. She felt ... love ... yes, love. And that's where the pain came from now. For it was too late for love between them. Maybe in the past, if she had discovered the truth before she met Ross, things could be different now. But....
"At least," Charles said, "you understand that you're not under some kind of mysterious spell that I had supposedly created." His face was con cerned and upset at her leaving. "I wish you would stay."
She shook her head. "I can't. You know that. We've been over it." She closed one of her suitcases and snapped the latch.
Charles lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair. He looked at her closely. "You know I'm used to getting what I want."
"Even you can't have everything you want."
"I wouldn't be too sure. Even if you leave now, I might just show up in Ridgecrest later to claim what I want."
"You wouldn't do that." She smiled, but then she saw his eyes. "Would you?"
"I told you I usually get what I want."
She changed the subject. "What about them," she said. "Rifter and Sandy. What will become of them?"
Charles shrugged. "Who knows, but don't you think Rifter's been punished enough?" His eyes twinkled.
Brenda decided that ice-blue had to be her favorite color. She smiled, remembering what Charles had arranged for Rifter. The asshole he had reserved for Frank's cock hadn't been her own as she had thought the night before. It had been Rifter's asshole that had been reamed out with Frank's thick, black member. She laughed now, thinking about it. Rifter had deserved all he received. He deserved more than that as far as she was concerned.
Rifter fought like hell when Frank twisted his arms behind his back, holding them like reins, and aimed his massive tool at the center of Rif ter's dodging rear. It did Rifter little good to struggle. Frank's strength far exceeded Rifter's. Charles and Brenda watched as Frank rammed his organ home while Rifter was still connected with his own cock to Sandy's overworked anus. "Try and set me up, will you," Frank grunted, ramming his hips forward and back, wrenching a scream of pain from Rifter's lips.
It didn't last long. Frank's thick organ pumped inside Rifter with unbelievable revenge, tearing into his flesh like a lance delivering its ultimate victory. Rifter kicked and cursed, but nothing he did could unplug his torn ass from the destruction of Frank's anger at being tricked into something he wouldn't normally have done. And then like a black cannon, Frank unleashed load after load of cum into Rifter's bowels, flooding his rectum until it overflowed and thick white fluid gushed from his ass and ran in gobs down his scrotum and dripped from his balls.
Now Brenda closed the last of her suitcases just as a knock sounded on her door. Charles answered it and let the bellhop in to claim the luggage. Silently, Brenda collected her purse and allowed Charles to lead her out the door. They followed the bellhop down to the lobby. Charles had already taken care of the bill. They walked past the registration desk and Brenda realized how changed she was from the person she had been the Wednesday before when she had registered at the Plaza.
Her car waited at the door. She climbed into the driver's seat and waited while Charles supervised the loading of her trunk. He tipped the bell hop and then walked around to her side of the car and leaned down to the window. She touched his hand resting on the door.
"I-I'm sorry I can't stay," she said, stumbling with the honesty of her words. "Ross is very possessive and I'm afraid he wouldn't let go lightly." She looked away for a moment and when she looked back, she tried to smile. Her features struggling to appear cheerful. "So this is goodbye." She held out her hand.
He took her hand and smiled at her, his eyes calm, his features confident. "This isn't the end of it," he said. "You may think so, but you'll find out different." He let go of her hand and stepped back.
She shook her head sadly. All things had to end, no matter how good they were. She put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. Looking in her rear-view mirror, she saw his reflection.
He stood like stone at the entrance to the hotel. His fists rested on his hips and his legs spread slightly as his ice-blue eyes recorded her departure. Brenda saw his image in her mind long after the Plaza Hotel disappeared behind her. She wondered if he was right. Were the last three days only a beginning? Would she ever see him again? Either way, she was leaving a convention she would never forget. And whatever the future held, she knew Charles Stern would always find a place in her memory.
