Well, I'll say this, I never would have figured that at the age of sixteen and just out of the orphanage, I would find myself what you might call a love slave with a couple of foster parents who were the swingingest I'd ever heard of. But that's what had happened to me. After the superintendent of the orphanage at Oakdale, which is not far away from San Diego, had given me his blessing and sent me off with Weldon and Lisa Thomas, I had hoped that maybe I would get out of the whole sleepy area which includes San Diego. Well, I had all the action I could want, and as for scenery, most of it was special recreation rooms and dungeons in the houses of people who were good friends of my foster parents and all of whom were members of what they called the "Phoenix Club."
I found out that all these wealthy, sex-driven folks had a cute idea going for themselves. All they had to do was apply to an orphanage anywhere along California where they happened to be living, establish their residence and good credentials, and they'd get themselves a pretty girl. Then they'd break her in by spanking and fucking her, till she was practically a slave. Whenever they got bored with her, they either got rid of her to somebody else, or they swapped. I wondered how long it was going to be before Lisa and Weldon Thomas swapped me. I had just lost my cherry to my foster father, and I had also seen a couple of the other "foster daughters and nieces" get put through their paces by Mark Fontana, who seemed to be the head of the organization and who had about three "foster daughters" himself.
Then there war Henrietta Chapman, an Amazonian matron who happened to like girls and not men, and I was glad I wasn't in her power. I was told tat I was going to have to visit her some day because she was a charter member of the "Phoenix Club," but I hoped it would be a long time before that happened. I understood that she loved to spank girls, and sometimes used an artificial prick, which she strapped onto herself and fucked them just the way a man would. I just didn't like the idea!
I spent one weekend with James Dennison, a stocky, big, heavy-set, black-haired man, and Alma, his tall, svelte, coppery-haired wife. I saw how they treated their cute auburn-haired maid Sue and their "foster daughter" Dolores. I spent another weekend with Harold Murton, who was stocky, about fifty, wore glasses and had a yen for taking down girls' panties and squeezing their bottoms and then giving them a good spanking before he fucked them. His wife Bebe was petite, wore glasses, and was auburn-haired. And finally, while I was with the Dennisons, I saw how they treated Rae Surkont, a really gorgeous twenty-two-year-old dark-brown-haired young woman whose husband Clarence worked for Dennison. They tied him in a chair, and they made him watch his own wife get screwed and whipped. I had to whip her, myself. And later on, she gave it back to me, and oh boy, did she ever give it to me!
So you can understand that after only a couple of months living with my foster parents, I was wondering what was going to happen next, and on this particular early fall morning, I was about to learn in no uncertain way.
CHAPTER TWO
Of course I hadn't learned yet all the ingenious details of this "Phoenix Club" because, quite apart from being a secret organization whose members could have all the fun and games they could handle, they made a little profit on the side by trading off and selling girls like me. But it was too early in the game yet for Lisa and Weldon to get tired of me. Anyway, when I woke up this particular Friday morning, Lisa came in wearing just a black nylon shortie robe, some very cute open-toed sandals. I saw she had painted her toenails purple, which meant that she was in a devilish mood. Since she was the one who had given me most of my spankings since I had left the orphanage, I was just a little uneasy. Whenever she walked into my bedroom unannounced, it usually meant something. And this morning was no exception.
"Good morning, darling, did you sleep well?" she wanted to know.
"Yes, thank you, Lisa," I said.
"That's fine. You can rest up most of the afternoon, because this evening we are going to go to a party. You're going to sort of be the guest of honor, dear," she informed me.
"Guest of honor?" I echoed as I prepared to get out of bed. I was wearing a pair of black satin pajamas which Lisa had bought me just the other day. They hugged my bottom and bubbies, and I was very self-conscious as I flung back the sheets and stuck my bare feet into my slippers.
"That's right, Verna darling," she cooed. She still had her hair in that crazy two-toned style, and maybe it was sort of symbolic, if you know what I mean. She had two sides to her nature, sweet and sticky and devilish, and also viciously nasty. Frankly, by now I was beginning to be scared of each of those contrasting moods, because they all added up to my being in the barrel.
"Would you like to know where we're going tonight, honey?" she asked as she came forward, put an arm around my shoulders, and then started fondling one of my bubbies. I couldn't show any sexiness, not thrt early in the morning, on an empty stomach. I wanted breakfast. But I didn't dare show the least sign of being annoyed, or she would probably have condemned me to a good bare-assed tanning, and then I would have to give out with all that ritualistic formula she insisted on, like calling her "Mama Lisa" when the spanking started, and then just at the end calling her Mama.
"If you want to tell me," I said warily.
"Well, Mark wants to enjoy you over the weekend. We're going to be with you tonight, and then we're coming back home for Saturday and Sunday and he's going to send over those sweet blonde girls Amy and Ruth. His nieces, you know."
I knew they weren't his "nieces." They were orphans just as I was, and they were part of the acquisition of the "Phoenix Club," and they were tradable merchandise, that's really what they were.
I had seen Mark operate on his "nieces," and I wasn't especially thrilled over the prospect of being the "guest of honor" with him in charge of me. But of course there wasn't any point in telling her how I felt. I knew that Mark liked to spank girls, and the smartest thing for me to do was keep my big mouth shut so that at least when he started to spank me, my bottom wouldn't already be sore from what Lisa cared to give me.
"Aren't you thrilled?" she went on, and now she was slipping her hand into my pajama tops and feeling my naked bubbies, her thumb-pad rubbing the nipple till I could feel it stiffen even though I wasn't feeling sexy at all.
"I guess so," I said dubiously.
"Now don't be impertinent, young lady, or I'll take the hairbrush to that big bare seat of yours," she warned, "maybe I ought to do it anyway, just to put you in the proper respectful mood for Mark. He doesn't like impertinent, saucy little bitches, you know."
"I'm sorry, Mama Lisa," I said as contritely as I could manage. "It's just that I guess I'm not quite used to all this switching around with people. And I didn't figure that when I came out of the orphanage, I would practically have to be...."
"Have to be what?" she interrupted and her eyes were darting sparks of fire.
"Well, be friendly with everybody," I blurted, trying to protect my bottom to the very last.
"That's a nice way to put it, dear. These are very good friends of ours, and we're indebted to most of them, and I'm not going to have a little snot nose like you from the orphanage disturb the order of things," she informed me very snippily. "You're very precocious for your age, you've got a gorgeous figure, and I happen to know you're a very sexy and hot little piece, if you want to know the truth. You should be very grateful that a nice handsome fellow like Mark Fontana takes an interest in you."
"Oh, I am," I said hastily. "But don't forget, I'm not even of age, and I sure didn't figure on losing my cherry this early in the game."
For that she slapped my face. "I don't like to hear a girl talk dirty," she advised me. "One more crack like that, and it's the hairbrush for you, young lady, and nothing to eat until you go over to Mark's tonight."
"I'm sorry," I said humbly. I was rubbing my cheek because it stung. Her eyes were still snapping sparks of fire at me, so I had to be just as humble as I knew how, because if that slap was any criterion, her hairbrush would hurt a helluva lot worse.
"Well," she added, "just mind your manners, that's all. I don't want to hear any bad reports from Mark tonight. And next week, you may go visit dear Henrietta."
"Oh boy!" came out of me before I knew what I was saying. It was a perfectly natural reaction. I didn't have any use for that Amazon, and I guess my face as well as my voice showed it. I got another slap that made my head spin around.
"What did I tell you? Verna, you're just itching for a bare-bottom hair brushing, that's what you are," Lisa snapped at me. "I'll let you off on one condition. Get down on your knees, kiss my feet and tell me you're sorry.
And don't think I won't tell Henrietta when it's your turn to go over there what you think of her. She can give you a doubly hard spanking. That'll teach you!"
So I had to go down and kneel and kiss her feet and tell her I was sorry, and my face was really burning from those slaps. Anyway, it was still better than the hairbrush.
"While you're down there on your knees, pull my nightie up and gam me, Verna," she arbitrarily commanded. So I had to do it. I carefully rolled up the nightie, I put my hands on the small of her back and kept the nightie up also and pressed her towards me. I leaned forward and my mouth got into her pussy hair and I started to kiss and suck and lick. In a few minutes, she was moaning all over the place, her fingers twisting in my hair and yanking every so often to remind me that she wanted lots of attention and service. I made her cream, and then she pushed me away and languidly said, "Now go take a shower, put on your little-girl's playsuit outfit-I got you a new one and you'll find it in the left hand drawer-and then come and have breakfast with Weldon and me. We'll sort of document you on what Mark expects of you tonight."
So I hurried and took my shower, and then I explored the drawer to find out what I was supposed to wear. I assumed that I was going to wear it tonight when I went over to Mark's house. As it turned out, I was right. It was a blue-and-white polka dot two-piece outfit, with a sort of almost sleeveless blouse and rompers which hugged my ass so tightly it felt like a second skin, and came down to about the middle of my thighs with garter bands around the hems, like bloomers. There was a pair of red bobby socks and little-girl strap-on sandals. There was also a big blue ribbon to tie in a bow around my hair, which I was supposed to comb out long and let hang below my shoulders. I put the outfit on, looked at myself in the mirror and made a face at myself. Then I went in to breakfast.
Weldon Thomas was sitting there in his pajamas, finishing his scrambled eggs and bacon. "How cute you look today, Verna darling," he complimented me. So I had to go over to him, put my arms around his neck, give him a sort of little-girl kiss. But what he did to me wasn't what a foster father ought to do to either a little girl or a grownup one. He slipped one hand under the leg of my rompers, and shoved it all the way up until he could tickle my furry little slit. His other hand he kept right on my bottom, squeezing one of the cheeks, as a sort of sign to me that I wasn't supposed to wander away and show any dislike for the attention he was paying me.
"You look absolutely charming," he repeated. "Now give me a nice sweet kiss."
I did, on the mouth. But he wanted more. "I feel a little horny this morning, honey. Seeing you dressed this way sort of makes it worse. See what you can do about it with that sweet mouth and tongue of yours," he told me.
So I had to get down on my knees under the table, pull his pajama pants down, and then start sucking his cock. He groaned a little, squirmed some, spread his legs so I could really get at him, and I heard Lisa say, "Isn't that a lovely way to start the day, Weldon darling? Aren't you glad we got the little girl from the orphanage?"
I wondered what the superintendent would have said if he could have heard and seen all of this! But I didn't think about that too long, because I had to satisfy my foster father or run the risk of maybe a double spanking, one from each of them. Besides, he was really horny. It didn't take him long before I felt a sudden drench in my mouth, and naturally I had to swallow it all down. Lisa reminded me just before he came.
Well, he gave me a nice hug and kiss for that, and then I had my orange juice and had my breakfast. After that, Lisa told me I could go to my room and take another nap if I wanted to and just keep myself in readiness until the evening.
I lounged around most of the afternoon, but I didn't get much rest. I was thinking about what Mark Fontana was going to do to me tonight. I imagined that he would rip my clothes off and beat me-it was a rather horrid fantasy, but oh, so real! I had also started to think very seriously about maybe what I was going to do if I found that I got pregnant. As it turned out, I didn't have to worry. Nobody had told me yet, but all the men in the "Phoenix Club" had had vasectomies, which means they can go on fucking but that their spunk wouldn't impregnante a girl. It was a great idea. They didn't have to worry about any kids, and they could fuck day and night and not miss it. It was great, except for the girl that had to take it all. And there were some real cocksmiths and spankomaniacs in the "Phoenix Club," I'm here to tell you!
CHAPTER THREE
Just before I was ready to leave with my foster parents for Mark Fontana's house, there was a phone call, and Lisa went to answer it. When she came back, she was giggling and she told me, "There's been a slight change, honey, so you're going to have to dress all over again."
Secretly, I hoped that I would be saved by the bell, if you know what I mean. I was praying that maybe Mr. Fontana had called up and told them that he had changed his mind and that he didn't want me after all. But that wasn't the case, darn it. And I guess Lisa must have seen the look on my face because I never have been able to hide my emotions very well, for she said in a rather nasty voice, "Now don't you dare say it, young lady, because I know it's going to be rude, and then I'd only have to punish you hard and I'm sure you wouldn't want to go to Mark that way. He has a habit of knowing when girls have been naughty, and if he were to give you a second spanking on top of the one I'd give you, you would really be in for it."
"Yes, Mama Lisa," I said meekly.
"That's better. Oh yes, you're going there, and we'll pick you up on Sunday evening. Mark has a few guests who want to meet you. But he doesn't want you to wear that particular outfit you've got on, so you just take it all off and stand there with your hands clasped behind your back and wait till I can come bring you something that will be more in line with his request. After all, he's the head of the Phoenix Club, and we do have to cater to his wishes, you know, dear."
"Yes, m'am." I mumbled. Then I took off everything I had on, and I felt awfully self-conscious standing there in my birthday suit, especially because her eyes had that funny glint in them which always means she's getting sexy. She came over and put one hand on one of my titties and rubbed my ass with the other and she murmured, "You're just enchanting, Verna. You've got a certain sulkiness in you that just makes everybody want to spank this naughty bottom of yours." So saying, she applied a stinging slap to each of my heinie cheeks and she made me jump and squeal a little. "Now you're going to be an awfully good girl over the weekend with Mark, aren't you, dear?" she purred. "Oh yes, Mama Lisa."
"That's fine. He's going to lend us one of his nieces, because your foster father is going to take her with him. We still owe you a lot, and we're not going to make any trades, if that's what's worrying you."
It was, in a way. I didn't like the idea of being "lent out" to all these nutsy people, who certainly had spanking on the brain as far as my poor rear end was concerned. And not only spanking but also screwing. And as far as Henrietta Chapman was concerned, I would just as soon forget about the thought that I would have to go see her the following weekend. The idea of having her strap on an artificial cock and plow it into me didn't exactly make me feel happy about the prospect, because I knew how nasty she could be. I had seen her operate on one of those "nieces."
Anyway, after feeling my pussy and giving me a French kiss, Lisa Thomas finally left the room. I was quivering a little, because she had learned a lot of my secrets since I had come to live at their house and she had certainly stirred me up. Just before she had left the room, she slipped her forefinger into my pussy, found my button and given it a few loving rubs which had sort of sent waves of shivery heat up and down my legs.
She came back a few minutes later with another dress box, put it down on the bed and opened it. "I think this will do fine, dear," she explained. "Put it on right now."
It was not exactly a little-girl outfit, not this time. It was calculated to snow just about everything I had and to make me look very slinky and sexy. First of all, there was a pair of highheeled red leather boots which went up about two inches above my knees. The heels were four inches high, and I had to put them on first and walk around a little while she inspected me, standing there with folded arms and staring at me hungrily. My bubbies jiggled and so did my bottom, and I felt more self-conscious than ever. I had my arms at my sides, and then when I crossed beyond her, I had to stick my arms out in a cross and keep walking that way. Finally she let me put on the rest of the outfit.
It consisted of a purple bolero jacket, sleeveless, of course, which just about covered my titties and still had a pretty wide V-cut to show the valley between them. The panties were also of glossy, purple satin and very clinging. They were practically like bikini panties, and they showed the base of the cheeks of my behind. Then I had a pair of matching red leather gloves that went just past my elbows, and that was it. Finally, Lisa gave me a cape and I put it on, only too glad to conceal my rather audacious half-nakedness. My foster father drove us, and Lisa sat in the back seat with me coaching me in how I was to act. "Now I don't want to hear any bad reports from Mark about you, Verna darling," she advised me. "He's quite taken with you. He says you're a very saucy little vixen, and that's high praise from Mark Fontana. You're to do everything he wants, do you understand? I know that you had the chance to use the whip yourself for Jim Dennison on that delicious Rae Durkont, and it's just possible that Mark, if you're a very good girl this weekend, may give you a chance to show your talents in that direction again. But tonight, you're going to be the slave, not the punisher, so just remember that."
"I will, Mama Lisa," I mumbled.
"Mark Fontana is a remarkable man," she went on. "I'll let you in on a little secret, though even Weldon knows it. I almost married him, but he wasn't in a marrying mood when we first met. Then Weldon came along, and of course I fell right in love with him. I think Mark started this Phoenix Club on a sort of rebound, if you know what I mean."
That was interesting. I hazarded a timid remark, "But I understand that there's lots of money in it," I began.
"You just keep your dirty little mouth shut about things like that, young lady," Weldon Thomas glanced back from the wheel and gave me a dirty look. "That's none of your affair. If you knew the risks all of us take in this venture, you'd understand that a little profit is the very least we can expect. You have nothing to complain about. You've got parents now, your every need is taken care of, you've got a lovely wardrobe, you're well fed, and you'll be very well treated so long as you behave yourself. And that's another thing, Lisa, I think you ought to tell her."
"Oh yes. About guests coming in and your blabbing to them, Verna honey," she put her arm around my waist and gave me a sort of solicitous smile. Here we went again I thought to myself, because whenever she pulled that act, I knew I was in for a long lecture and I had better not forget any part of it if I wanted to keep my bottom cool and painless. "You see, every so often some of our dear friends have guests over, just like the Dennisons had Rae and her husband that time. Of course they understood what was going to happen-or at least Clarence did," she explained. "But if you happen to be in a situation where some guest of one of our friends like Mark or Henrietta or Harold, and they ask you about yourself, I strictly forbid you to talk about the Phoenix Club. It's none of your affair, in the first place. You don't know about it, in the second. And there's no need to alarm anyone, because your hosts have made plans that will take care of things in their own very ingenious way. Do I make myself clear?"
"Oh yes, Mama Lisa," I told her and bobbed my head very dutifully.
"I think we can trust her. We've had good reports so far," she told Weldon.
"We better keep on getting them, that's all I can say," he growled and gave me another dirty look as he turned his head back from the wheel.
And so we had driven up to Mark Fontana's lavish estate, and the time had come for me to bid farewell to my foster parents. I'd already had dinner at home, because Lisa had whipped up some chicken a la king and biscuits and iced coffee and coconut cake and I was feeling just fine. Just fine, that is, until I set foot into Mark Fontana's house, because Lisa rang the bell, and the door was opened by a tall dark-brown-haired girl wearing glasses and not much else. I mean, she had on a pretty lace cap, long black kid gloves to the shoulders, highheeled pumps, a pretty little white lace-trimmed apron over skintight red bikini panties very much like mine, and a bra of the same material, and that was it. She blushed when she saw us, and said, "Good evening. May I tell Mr. Fontana you're here, please?"
"Well, dear, you're new, aren't you?" Lisa cooed as she put out her hand and caressed the girl's pale milky cheek.
"Yes, ma'am. This is my first week of service.
"I see. And you're the maid?"
"Yes, ma'am. My name is Edna. Who may I say is calling?"
"The Thomases, Edna dear. Tell Mark that I've brought Verna," my foster mother said in her sweetest tone, Apparently she couldn't keep her hands off Edna. Now one of them was roaming over Edna's ass, and giving it a few loving squeezes through the skintight red bikini panties. I noticed that Edna stood there, with eyes downcast, with the blushes sure spreading on her lovely face. It was a sort of saucy face, with big ingenuous wide brown eyes. The combination was certain, I knew, to get my foster mother set up.
"I will say, you're exceptionally well trained, Edna dear," my foster mother approved. "How old are you, Edna?"
"Mmmmm. Very nice, too," my foster father now put in. His eyes were feasting on Edna's jouncy ass. That red bikini looked as if it had been painted on her behind, and it was a very saucy rump, too. The cheeks were upstandingly rounded and very tightly set, and the narrow crease between them was practically molded out by the satin material. It would be very difficult for Edna to bend over without splitting her panties.
As if she had been reading my mind, Lisa now drawled, "Edna, bend over and grab your ankles. I want to see how tight those panties really are."
"Yes, ma'am," Edna dutifully obeyed. I expected them to burst, but they didn't. Just the same, they hugged the curves of her ass in a very indecent way. I thought at any moment the material was going to split. Lisa put her left palm on the small of the girl's back, and administered five or six stinging, noisy slaps over each cheek. Edna gasped and squirmed, but kept in position.
"That's very nice. I see that Mark has trained you very well," Lisa said. "You can straighten up now, dear. Tell me, you say you have been with Mark just about a week. Where did you come from before that?"
"I was Mr. Murton's maid for a couple of months. Then I got appendicitis and I had to go to the hospital, and Mr. Fontana had me trained with another family-begging your pardon, ma'am, I'm not supposed to tell who they are," Edna said respectfully.
For seventeen, she really was lush and very deliciously developed. I could see that my foster father couldn't take his eyes off of her. I was willing to bet that he was going to ask Mark Fontana for a little loan to keep him company over this weekend while I was being available to his host.
"Go in and announce us now," Lisa commanded, and there was the sound of her arrogance right back where it was, just to let this little bitch know that the interview was over and now it was time to get down to business.
Edna curtsied and hurried away. In a few minutes, Mark Fontana walked into the living room. I sort of shivered when I saw him. He had on a black silk bathrobe and sandals, and he looked more ferocious than ever with his hawk nose, his moustache, and his piercing eyes.
"Well now, this is a delightful surprise," he said as he came up to me. "Lisa, it was very nice of you to cater to my whim and have Verna change her outfit."
All of a sudden I squealed. My foster mother had just pinched my ass and pinched it hard. Then she hissed at me, "Get down on your knees, take out his cock and kiss it and tell him that you're going to be his little slave this weekend, you stupid little bitch," was her loving instruction.
I could feel my face get hot and red, but it was better that, than my bottom the same way. I sank down to my knees, I opened his bathrobe, and then unbuttoned his pajama trousers. His prick was already stiff and hard, and the angry-looking plum-shaped head popped right out at me as if it meant business. I put my fingers to it, and I brushed it with my lips and I murmured, "I'm very grateful, master, to be your slavegirl this weekend, and I'll try to obey you and do everything you want."
"What a charming little speech, my dear," he said in a husky, chuckling voice. He bent down, picked me up by the armpits and lifted me up. He didn't try to hide his cock from my foster parents. He pulled me to him, and I could feel it prodding against my crotch. Then his hands were squeezing my bottom, and I was blushing more than ever. "Lisa," he called over my shoulder, "did you tell her that she's going to play a double role while she's with me?"
"I thought she was just going to be the slave, Mark dear," Lisa said.
"No, I sort of changed my mind. I have a guest, and I think I'd like Verna to work on her a little. It will help things along, if you know what I mean. Now, you'll have a drink with me, Weldon, Lisa. You too, Verna. It will get you ready for this evening. Come along."
We followed him to his study. There were bookcases on all the walls, built-in shelves, and of course I knew that there were all sorts of naughty books behind the glass doors locked with a key which only he had. On the rest of the wall, you saw tapestries which were specially designed with all sorts of sexy torture scenes depicted on them. It was a room to make a man horny and a girl scared. I confess I was, just a tiny bit. Scared, that is.
I got a glass of sherry, while Lisa and Weldon had martinis. Mark Fontana hadn't bothered to button up his pajama trousers or to adjust his gaping bathrobe. He seemed proud of his prick, and it really was a formidable one.
"I suppose," he chuckled, "you would like to borrow both Amy and Ruth, my golden-haired little nieces."
"Very much," Lisa cooed.
"Well, it can be arranged this weekend, fortunately. I .think dear Henrietta had a particular yen for them, and I may have to wind up selling them to her. She's done me a few favors. At any rate, we shan't worry about that now, shall we? I'll send them back with you directly. Edna, go to their room, unlock the door with this key, and tell them to get themselves ready."
"Yes, sir," she said.
As soon as she had left the room, Lisa turned to Mark Fondana. "Haven't you taught her to call you master yet, dear?" she wanted to know.
"No, and purposely so," he said with a chuckle. "She's extremely innocent, and yet she has a passionate nature which so many innocents have, you see. There's no need to spoil her, and she's still quite young, though also very well developed. Well, I see she's coming back. Are Ruth and Amy ready?"
"Yes, sir," Edna :,aid as she bowed her head before him.
"That's good enough for me," he said benignly. "Well now, why don't you go back with Edna and take your two charming companions, and then come back here Sunday night? By then, I'm sure that Verna and I will have had a great deal of pleasant time together."
"We will. Now you be a good girl, Verna," Lisa admonished me. After I had said I would, she came to me and kissed me, and gave me a little spank on my bottom just to remind me what I had in store for me. Weldon just nodded to me, because I knew that he was eager to get at Amy and Ruth. Then he disappeared. I was alone with Mark Fontana in his study.
"Suppose, since you've learned how to say master, you lovely piece, you get down on your knees and suck me off," he said directly. After all, he'd already had me, and he knew that I was well broken in. I was. I wanted to get as little whipping as I could this weekend. I sank down on my knees, I cupped his prick in my hands and I fed it into my mouth and sucked gently until at last I was rewarded by his bursting jet and his groan. Then he stood up and kicked my ass.
He patted me on the head. "That was very well done, Verna dear. Now why don't you come along with me and we'll visit our guest? You remember Rae Surkont, don't you?"
"Yes I do, master," I said.
"Well, this guest is somewhat older than Rae, and she's a virgin coo, you wouldn't believe it. But she is, quite definitely. Come along, dear, I think this is going to be a very exciting evening." With his hand on my bottom, he pushed me gently forward. I followed him down the stairs to one of his specially equipped torture chambers. He took a key out of his bathrobe pocket and unlocked the door, and there was a cry of fear as he entered. My eyes widened.
In the center of the room, which was padded, the way you might see a gymnasium added with floor mats, there was a trapeze. Standing on tiptoe and with her thumbs tied with strong white cords which bound her to the bar, was an extremely handsome woman. I thought she was about thirty-five or so. She was fully dressed, in a white evening gown, a glossy satin which had a low back line down almost to her chink bone, and in front was cut along the valley of her titties about halfway down those big round upstanding love globes of hers. She had black hair piled in a kind of Gibson Girl pompadour on the top of her head, and her ears were bare and she had a very long shapely neck. Her face was oval too, with high-set cheekbones, gray-green eyes, a very high forehead, thin brows and a dainty, uptilting nose. Her lips were thin, however.
"For God's sake, let me go, Mr. Fontana!" she panted. "Oh God-you-you're exposing yourself!"
"So I am. But don't be afraid, now. Verna here took care of my immediate needs. There'll be plenty of time for you, Mrs. Dalworthy, to service me before the night is over," he jestingly replied.
Then he turned to ma and said, "This is Eugenia Dalworthy. She's a widow, but the funny think is that she was married for only one year to a very elderly man, whose secretary she was. He wanted a wife for companionship, and that's why she's still a virgin."
"You horrible brute, why have you treated me like this? Why did you tell me to come here and tell me you were going to hire me as your secretary, only to do this to me?" the woman cried. She had a rich contralto voice, and it was trembling now with evident fear.
"I have it on the evidence of your former housemaid, Mrs. Dalworthy," he said with a cruel twist of his lips, "that you never slept with your husband. That's how we know you're a virgin. But of course, the true test will come when I find out for myself, with little Verna here to help me."
"Oh you fiend, you fiend! You've trapped me, you're going to hurt me, oh you abominable man, you'll pay for this, wait till I get out of here, I'll tell the police what sort of monster you are!" the handsome brunette widow cried. She tried to tug at her thumbs, but the pain was evident, judging from her grimace.
"Verna, I would like to see that gown of hers pulled up above her hips, and whatever else she has on underneath pulled down. You think you can manage it? Mark Fontana asked me, putting an arm around my shoulders and smiling at me.
"Yes, master," I said dutifully.
"Oh no! Don't let her touch me! You've got no right to do this! I tell you, I'll go to the police-"
"No you won't, Mrs. Dalworthy. Otherwise I might just bring forward this housemaid-I'm sure you remember her, dear little Kitty Prothero-who will testify under oath that you gave your husband a few too many sleeping pills. Oh he would have died in due course, but you were a little greedy for his money. Also, you had another little boyfriend in mind-so unfortunately for you, he was transferred to New York by his firm."
"You must be a devil out of hell to know all this!" the woman panted.
"So if you wish to have a charge of murder levied against you, make your stupid threats, woman," he went on. "But if you're smart, if you know what's good for you, you'll take your punishment now and be glad of what I offer you by way of position with me."
Then, turning back to me, he said, "Go right ahead, dear. Be careful she doesn't kick you. She's a very aggressive and domineering woman-at least she was with her husband. We're going to make her dance to a different tune, the two of us."
I walked around behind Mrs. Dalworthy. She twisted her head round, panting and sobbing, and tried to twist and jerk herself away from me. I squatted down suddenly, caught up the hem of her evening gown and tugged it all the way up. In fact, I lifted it over her head and blindfolded her.
"Now that was a very good idea, I should have thought of it myself, brava, Verna dear!" he applauded me.
"Help me! Don't touch me! Oh my God, what are you going to do to me? Mr. Fontana, let me go, let me go!" she cried.
Under the gown, Eugenia Dalworthy was wearing a very pretty, expensive, specially designed white lace slip. I rolled this up to her armpits and that left her in a white nylon bra with a bandeau round her lissome back, which was deeply hollowed and beautifully sculptured. Then she had on a pantygirdle, a sort of Lycra, and it hugged big plump widely spaced asscheeks, exactly the kind you'd like to paddle. She had full rather long thighs, and highset, nervously muscled calves. She was really a superb figure of a woman, around five-feet-seven, I should say.
She had a very pale white skin, and I could see that Mark Fontana was interested in it. I could see his prick stiffen now as it returned to life just looking at her in undress. Meanwhile she was struggling, trying to jerk her thumbs free and finding that she couldn't, terrified by having her gown pulled up over her face so that she couldn't see what was going on: "Oh my God, won't you tell me what you're going to do to me? Have mercy, don't hurt me, I can't stand pain!" she kept protesting.
"Let's get that panty girdle down, Verna dear. Be sure to undo the tabs to her stockings," he said to me in a very suave tone.
"Oh no! Don't undress me, not naked, oh for God's sake, not in front of you, Mr. Fontana!" she screamed.
She tried to twist and wriggle herself away, the minute she felt my hands feeling for the fasteners on the panty girdle. But Mark Fontana gave me such a sharp look that I knew it would be my ass instead of hers if I didn't hurry. So I found the right zippers and I grabbed hold of the waistband of the panty girdle and I yanked it down and turned it inside out and pulled it all the way down to her ankles.
"It's a really beautiful sight, isn't it, Verna?" he chuckled as he walked behind her and stared appreciatively.
She really had a magnificent behind. As I said, the crease was rather broad, and you could see the ambery-shadowy outline of it very plainly. She had very thick black pussyhair too, and she was trying frantically to close her legs so as to diminish herself.
She had a very wide shallow bellybutton, and I could see that there was sweat along her ribs, proving that she was scared as hell. All of a sudden I began to feel a warm tingling feeling right between my legs, because my bikini panties were awfully snug, too, and all this sexy byplay had got me really hot. I was looking forward to humiliating this big grownup woman. I was getting to be just as bad as all the rest of them, and I was a little shocked at myself. Of course, I knew that I had to do whatever Mark Fontana wanted, because I could see all those whips and paddles and things hanging from that panoply on the wall.
"I think," he said in a hoarse voice, "to get me in the proper mood, Verna dear, I'm going to have you give her a good hard spanking with your hand. After that, I'm going to fuck you. We'll let dear Eugenia wonder what's going to happen to her after her spanking. Perhaps hearing us fuck will give her a few ideas. She may even decide to offer her virginity to me."
"Never, you filthy, abominable criminal," the woman cried, beside herself. "I'd sooner die than let you touch me!"
"We'll see who has the last word. Go ahead, Verna dear," he ordered.
And so, that feeling in my pussy getting stronger by the minute, I stepped behind the struggling blindfolded almost naked Eugenia Dalworthy, put my left hand on the small of her back, and gave her a good hard spank on the right asscheek, toward the base, with my right palm. She let out a wild squeal and lunged forward.
CHAPTER FOUR
I gathered that Mark Fontana had found what you might call a skeleton in Eugenia Dalworthy's closet, and that was why he had managed to lure her to his place and get her down into this dungeon where he could go to work on her and whip and fuck her to his heart's content. I remembered how much fun I had had whipping that impudent Rae Surkont while her husband was tied to a chair and helpless to stop her suffering. But this gorgeous, big-assed brunette widow was much more exciting to work on because she was a full grown woman and not just a snotty young bitch like that Rae. And it certainly made me feel grownup to think that Mark Fontana would let me work her over.
Anyway, once he had given me the high sign, I set to work spanking her big jouncy pale white asscheeks, and I put roses in them, as you might say. She didn't appreciate it in the least little bit. She hollered as if she were about to lose her cherry-which she still had, in spite of her being around thirty-five. She twisted and jerked herself this way and that, and of course since the evening gown was pulled up over her face and still blindfolded her, she didn't know where the next spank was coming from. She did try to kick back out at me, but I punished her for that by moving to the side and giving one of her hips a wicked little pinch every so often. Oh boy, did that draw yells and screams from the haughty lady!
Mark finally stopped me when I was getting out of breath and when I figured I had given her at least sixty swats. Her big beautiful ass was flaming like a sunset, and she was sobbing like a little girl and her words were being mixed with sobs and groans and prayers to be let off any more. She wasn't quite so threatening as she had been at the outset, I noticed. So I could find out from that how even the most grownup woman would act like a baby when it came for her naked ass to be spanked. It made a profound impression on me, you can bet your sweet life on that.
Meanwhile, Mark Fontana had slipped off his bathrobe and pulled off his pajamas trousers. He was just in the tops now and his slippers, and his big hard evil-looking prick was aiming right at my poor little pussy. He had a wicked glint in his eyes, and he said in a hoarse voice, "I think that will do for a start, Verna dear. Now suppose you see what you can do about taking this monster down in that tight hot little box of yours. We'll do it right in front of dear Eugenia, so she can hear what it's like. And then when it comes time to lose her cherry, it won't be quite so new or terrifying to her."
"Oh my heavens, oh dear God in heaven, please let me go, Mr. Fontana!" Eugenia Dalworthy wailed. "My thumbs are so swollen and sore it hurts me awfully! Oh please, please, I never did anything to you, why are you torturing me this awful why? Oh how it hurts, oh please let me go now!"
"Not at all. Your maid Kitty-ah, I see from the way you gasped just then that you recognize the name,-tells me that you made some insulting remarks about me in her presence."
"That's a he! I never did any such thing, oh please, oh please, have mercy on me! It's shameful and criminal of you to treat me like this, a grown woman, naked like this and spanked by that awful girl!"
"Be careful, or Verna will avenge the insult you've just given her, and with something stronger than her hand," he warned. "Besides, I'm going to prove that you're a liar, and that of course will mean extra punishment for you, my dear Mrs. Dalworthy. Come along, Verna, slip those lovely panties down and let me see that adorable cunt of yours."
"Ohh! Oh my heavens!" Eugenia Dalworthy gasped, and tried to struggle and twist loose. I could see that her thumbs were swollen from the cords biting into them and forcing her to stand on tiptoe. It was quite a delightful pose, because it made the muscles in her long legs and shapely ass quiver and flex constantly. At the same time, she was desperately trying to keep her thighs clenched shut so that we couldn't see her pussy. But it was impossible not to see it, not with all that thick black fleece all over it. You could hardly see the lips for her hair, I thought.
Anyway, blushingly, I slipped down my tight purple bikini panties, and presented myself to Mark Fontana. He didn't bother with preliminaries this time. He put his hands on the cheeks of my heinie, kissed me hard on the mouth, and at the same time started to sink that massive shaft of his between the soft twitching lips of my already itching pussy. In a few short thrusts, he was in me to the balls and his hairs were grinding up against mine, and I was gasping myself, but not with pain. My cunt was still very tight, naturally, after having lost my cherry to my own foster father. But I was getting a sort of kick out of being fucked, especially because Mark was such a virile man and so powerful and the head of this Phoenix Club, and he was making love to me as he would to a grownup woman.
I wound my arms around him, and I pressed as tightly to him as I could. I let him do all the work and he was quite willing. He started pushing back and forth inside of my sheath until I felt delicious hot waves of passion seething inside of me. I began to groan a little bit too, and he kissed me harder, and I ut my tongue inside his mouth which pleased im very much. He squeezed my bottom so hard I had to groan, but it wasn't a spanking pain. It was what I would call a fucking pain, and it thrilled me. And all the time Eugenia Dalworthy was groaning and sobbing and saying what a horrid shame it was and how indecent and vile it was of this awful man to do such things and force her to be party to them. He was taking it all in, because he glanced back at her several times, with that evening gown pulled up over her face and even covering part of her titties, and he chuckled a little. I knew that when we got through, she was going to be an awfully sorry lady that she was becoming so uppity as to put him here in his own torture chamber. Even I wouldn't have been that stupid!
"By the way, my dear," he muttered into my ear, "you needn't worry about getting a baby. I've had a vasectomy, as have all the members of our worthy establishment, so you can have all the enjoyment you want without the usual penalty. You're quite a talented lady, Verna, and maybe I'm going to ask your foster parents one of these days to let you stay with me longer than a weekend."
"That would be awfully nice, m-master," I gasped, because by now I was getting awfully close to come. "Am I doing it the way you want? Are you comfortable, master?"
"No, but that makes it all the nicer. I'd like to put you on a bed and tie you up and really give it to you, my dear. And I will, before you go back to Weldon and Lisa. But for now, this is very good. You're deliciously tight, and hot too, did you know that, you sweet little bitch?"
"Th-thank you, m-master," I gasped. Now he was really working it back and forth inside of me, and I could hear him grunting as he was reaching the end of the road. And there it came, a gush of bubbling spunk that just about shot into the very depths of my sheath, and it released my own floodtides. I could feel myself shivering and shaking all over, and I just held onto him for dear life and sagged against him, and everything went black for a moment.
When he pulled out of me, I uttered a gasp of disappointment, because it was actually a pain to have that big stiff cock of his out of my well-packed cunt.
"There you are, Eugenia," he taunted her as he turned to face her, and I could see that his prick was limp. I had, after all, already taken him twice once in the mouth and once in my still tingling pussy. "I think you must have heard what an enjoyable fuck Verna and I have just enjoyed. And now I'd like you to see me, but before that, I think it's high time that you met your former maid Kitty. By the way, she's now working for me."
"Ohhh! Oh God, don't brine her in here, please, Mr. Fontana!" she suddenly started changing her tune. Now she was almost crying, and I could see from the way she was shivering she was scared.
He told me to pull my panties back on and I did. Then he went to the dungeon door, unlocked it, and whistled. A few minutes later, in came a strikingly handsome and very, very luscious girl. She was wearing a slinky black nylon negligee you could see right through, and it was tied with a silver-cloth belt, and she had open-toe sandals on. She had chestnut hair and it was closely cropped, very mannish-looking, like a Lesbian. Her bubbies were like oranges, high-perched and not too big, and widely spaced. She had a very slim waist, and she had a gorgeous big behind. I don't mean big in the sense that it was fat, because it wasn't at all. It was just solid and meaty and beautifully rounded. Her thighs were long and slender and so were her calves, but that butt of hers was enough to make Mark Fontana's cock stand at attention again. What a man he really was! Here I'd hauled his ashes twice for him, and he was already getting a third hard-on within the space of an hour!
"Come in, Kitty dear. I want you to meet a dear old friend of yours. Verna, would you do me the favor of removing the evening gown? I do think that Eugenia will want to see Kitty."
"Oh don't-take her away-oh don't let her see me like this, I implore you, Mr. Fontana! In the name of heaven, oh please don't!" the mature widow wailed.
But I had already yanked off the evening gown, careless of the fact that maybe I had torn it. I glanced immediately at Mark Fontana, but he just chuckled and said, "Never mind, she won't need an evening gown for a while, I don't think. There now, Kitty, what do you think of your former mistress?"
Kitty walked up to the shuttering woman, and her first act was to rip off Eugenia Dalworthy's bra. This left her in just her sagging stockings and pumps, because a minute later Mark Fontana went behind her and ripped off the slip. She had thick hair in her armpits, too, Her bubbies were rising and falling violently, and she looked really scared through her tears. "K-Kitty, oh please, please help me!" she groaned.
"Help you, bitch? When all you ever tried to do was get me in bed and seduce me? No wonder you didn't want your poor old husband, you were just a dirty low dyke," Kitty said viciously. Then she turned to Mark Fontana: "That's true, dearest. The very first week I came to work for her, she started getting close to me and just letting her hand rub against my butt, as if it was an accident. And then one night she came out with it, she wanted me to give her a bath and then she wanted to do the same for me. I wasn't having any. I like men, darling."
"So I've discovered. However, Kitty, you've taken a little on yourself, I should say, talking to me so intimately. You may be my employee, but you're also my slavegirl. You can consider yourself written down for a good sound whipping a little later on tonight," he told her. And all of a sudden she went pale and looked down at the floor and began to fidget.
"But you see, Eugenia," he went back to the charge, "I think we've established right now what sort of woman you were with that poor old hubby of yours. You married him just to get hold of his money, didn't you? You thought you could have your cake and eat it too. You didn't know that he was a pretty good friend of mine, and that towards the end, before he had his final attack, he and I were even discussing the possibility of initiating you into our little club?"
"Oh God, no, no, it can't be true!"
"But of course it's true. You remember the last time I visited your house, when your husband had a party in my honor. And you said to Kitty as she was dressing you that you wished that nasty Mark Fontana wouldn't show his face in a decent person's house. And when Kitty asked you why you said that, you told her that I was a most immoral man and that you were afraid to be in the same room with me. Well, those words were really prophetic, my dear. For, you see, you now are in the same room with me."
Then he turned to me. "Verna, this is Kitty. She's twenty-three, and she's by no means a virgin. She came out of an employment agency in San Diego, but before that she was an orphan like yourself. Only she happened to work for about five years for a good friend of mine, and so when Eugenia's husband needed a maid-which of course was his wife's idea and for what reasons you can now guess-I saw to it that she got the situation."
"Oh my God, I see it all now," Eugenia Dalworthy wailed. "You sent her there to spy on
"Precisely. And also to learn a few things about you which I could use later on. And later on is now, as you're going to find out, Eugenia. Kitty, to make you a little happier, for I see that you are rather down in the mouth about the thought of your whipping tonight, would you like to have some fun with Eugenia here?"
"Wouldn't I just!" the chestnut-haired beauty hissed vindictively.
"I tell you what, Kitty my dear," he drawled as he put his bathrobe back on, delved for a pack of Turkish cigarettes in one pocket, lit one, and walked around to contemplate the groaning, sobbing, hysterical naked woman who stood on the tiptoes of her pumps with her arms drawn well over her head, her armpits tautly distended and the thick black curls of intimate hair showing lewdly, "you and I both know that she's a virgin. Suppose you try to persuade her to yield her virginity to me, Kitty. If you do it in an ingenious and pleasing way, I may remit some of your whipping tonight."
"Oh thanks, Mr. Fontana!" Kitty exclaimed. And at her words, Eugenia Dalworthy seemed to shrink back and then she turned her head and looked at Mark and whimpered, "Oh please don't let her whip me, please don't, I beg of you, Mr. Fontana, I beg of you humbly!"
"You're going to beg a great many things of me humbly, you bitch, and you're still going to give in to my whims. Go ahead, Kitty. As for you, Verna," this as he moved over to a footstool and seated himself on it, "slip your bikini panties down and get over my lap. I'm going to spank you and get myself into the mood for fucking Eugenia there as soon as Kitty has decided her to make the sacrifice."
Never a dull moment on these weekends, I thought to myself, as reluctantly I shoved down my bikini panties and walked over to him and draped myself across his lap. His cock was stiff and it rubbed against my belly. But as his left arm clung around my waist, and his right hand lingeringly passed over the twitching and flinching cheeks of my naked heinie, I began to wonder if I was really going to be as well off as I thought from the very start of this little session. Mark Fontana was an imaginative sadist, and a very quixotic one. You never knew what he was going to do next; I certainly didn't!
Meanwhile Kitty had walked over to the panoply on the wall to study the collection. It was really an inspiring one, too. Paddles, leather and wood of every shape and description, and birch rods and taws, martinets with five and with seven and some with only three thongs, even a carriage whip and a French cravache. She looked all these over very deliberately, while poor Eugenia Dalworthy turned her face and saw what was going on and began to sob and beg for mercy again.
Mark Fontana's hand was still rubbing my bottom, and I was trying to be as immobile as possible to show him that I was very submissive. There would be a report from him later to my foster parents, and I figured that it was bad enough to be spanked or whipped by Mark Fontana without having Lisa add a couple in supplement to it later on.
Finally, Kitty decided on a sort of razor strop. It had a doubly thick end for the handle, about four inches long. It was broad, about two and a half inches in width, and about two and a half feet long. It didn't have any tapering end or split end either, and it must have been an eighth of an inch thick, maybe a little more. It was a ferocious-looking thing, and it gleamed as Kitty took it down from a hook and walked back over to Eugenia and got herself behind the frantic naked widow.
"Oh not that awful strap, Kitty, for God's sake, you'll kill me!" Eugenia wailed, looking back over her shoulder with tears running down her face.
"You've got a nice red butt on you, bitch, but I'm going to make the color a lot more vivid before I'm finished with you. When you've had enough, you can beg Mr. Fontana to fuck you," Kitty said with a curl of her lovely lips.
Then, stepping back a little to get the proper range, she swung back the strap and stepped forward, with a gasp she swept it with all her might across the very middle of Eugenia Dalworthy's plump round asscheeks.
There was a wild scream and the naked woman lunged forward with another cry as she felt the pangs in her swollen thumbs. "Aiiiieeee-owww!! Oh for God's sake, Kitty, don't beat me with that strap, please, oh have mercy, didn't I always treat you properly, wasn't I good to you?"
"Oh sure, you gave me lots of money, but you still tried to make me. I don't go for girlie games with bitches like you, that's for sure. Now with someone like Verna there, I might experiment a little. But you, you big-assed, big-tittied dirty deceiver, treating that poor old husband of yours the way you did and trying to make me all the time, you deserve everything I'm going to give you!"
"Brava, Kitty!" Mark Fontana cried. And no sooner had he called it out than, SMACKKK! his right hand visited my own cringing naked ass and I let out a yipe, taken more by surprise than pain, but don't think it didn't hurt!
He had rather thoughtfully placed the footstool sort of behind and to the left of Eugenia Dalworthy. That way, even while I was getting my own rear end nicely burned up, I could watch Kitty operate on that big red bottom of poor Eugenia Dalworthy's. Boy, did she ever go to it! She would pause a couple of minutes, as if selecting another spot, and then apply three or four hard noisy whacks which made the strap crack and cling right against the reddest, roundest parts of the woman's ass. Eugenia Dalworthy's wild, piercing cries began to become hysterical, high-pitched and shuddering. She was babbling, and she wasn't keeping track of what she said, but the gist of it was that she would do just about anything if Kitty would only stop.
Meanwhile, Mark was treating me to a really fast hard stinging spanking. In fact, it hurt so that I began to kick my legs, and he only tightened his left arm around my waist and kept on spanking all the harder. Tears were running down my face, but they were nothing to what Eugenia was letting flow down hers. She was yelling, twisting and wriggling, kicking and lunging, babbling woeful, piteous prayers for mercy, until finally she screamed, as one particularly hard lash swept the leather band across both her struggling naked thighs, "Aharrroww!!! Oh stop, Kitty, for God's sake stop, and I'll do whatever he wants, I swear I will, only put down that awful strap!"
Mark, who had just given me two hard ones on the base of my right bottom cheek, called out, "Make her beg me and use the proper words, Kitty girl!"
"Sure, Mr. Fontana. All right, Eugenia, you heard him. Beg him to fuck you, beg him to take your cherry-" CRACK, SMACK-CRACK! Three times the wicked leather strap collided with Eugenia Dalworthy's swollen, dark-reddened bare ass, and it was far too much to bear. She seemed to sort of all collapse inside.
"Ahareeeyeowww!!! Oh God-I can't stand it anymore-oh please, Mark, please f-f-fuck me, oh for God's sake, do anything in the world to me, but make her stop!"
"Hold it a moment, Kitty. You can get up, Verna, but kneel down in front of Eugenia. I've got something for you to do," he instructed. I was only too happy to slip off his lap and to rub my scorched bottom as I finally got down on my knees in front of the sobbing, whimpering groaning naked brunette widow.
"Now am I to understand, Eugenia my dear, that you are inviting me-no, begging me-to take your cherry?" he said with an obscene smirk as he cupped her trembling chin and stared deeply into her tear-blinded eyes.
"Oh yes-oh for God's sake, anything you want-oh please let me off, I'm dying, oh the pain, my poor bottom-oh have mercy on me!"
"Come to the point, Eugenia, or else Kitty is going to have to resume. Say it loud and clear so that everybody can understand it. Beg me to fuck you and to take your cherry. Go ahead!"
And when the flustered, unfortunate naked woman hesitated as she tried to get her breath between sobs and groans, Kitty regaled her with a solid diagonally placed lash of the strap which leaped from the top of her right hip down to the base of her left asscheek.
"Owouuuuu!!! Oh fuck me, I beg you to take my cherry, Mark, please fuck me and do it, I'm begging you, oh my God, the suffering, oh I can't stand it anymore! "Eugenia Dalworthy shrieked.
"Very good. I'm going to grant your request, Eugenia. Now you, Verna, prepare her a little bit. You know how to gam a girl, I take it?"
"Oh yes, master," I hastily responded, blushing hotly.
"Well, then, go ahead and gam Eugenia till she gets squirmy. When she's ready, I'll be ready for her," he said. Then he told Kitty, "Take off that negligee and get down on your knees behind your former mistress. Open up the cheeks of her behind and use your tongue against her asshole. That's just to teach you humility in turn, my girl."
Now it was Kitty's turn to blush, but she obeyed very quickly, because he gave her a long warning look. Eugenia shrieked when she felt her former maid's fingers on her swollen asscheeks, prying them open, and then she moaned and squirmed frantically as Kitty's tongue reluctantly furled against the shrinking petals of her virgin bumhole.
Meanwhile, grasping Eugenia's hips, I had begun to gam her. I kissed all over that thickly haired spot, found the lips plump and twitching, and finally used my tongue between them to find her button. As soon as I got to her clitoris she began to groan and sob, to twist, to turn her head this way and that, and her bubbies were rising and falling wildly.
"Stop, Verna!" Mark Fontana at last commanded. I quickly moved out of range, and he took my place there. Grabbing her titties, he crushed her sobbing cries to silence with his mouth on hers, and dug his prick against the barrier of her cherry.
"Mmffff-oa ahhhh-agggghhh-mmffgg-oh don't-it's hurting-oh you're tearing me-aahhhhrrr!!!" she finally twisted her mouth free and shrieked as he pierced her cherry and made her a woman.
Meanwhile, Kitty was still tonguing and licking her former mistress's bumhole. And now as Mark Fontana began to plunge in and out, squeezing his victim's titties ruthlessly, poor Eugenia was in a dreadful state. She had never had so many sensations visited upon her at one time in all her life before, and her eyes were wild and glazed and rolling this way and that. Her head was tilted back, and there were beads of sweat in her furry armpits, and she was moaning and sobbing.
Finally with a shout of joy, he gushed his spunk into her cunt, and drew out his bloodied prick. But I had to cleanse it for him with my mouth and tongue, and that was very difficult for me. It almost cost me a whipping, but fortunately he was in a good mood.
"There," he panted. "Now we're going to leave Eugenia here and go have some supper. Later, since she has been a most obedient bitch at last, we might bring her some and put her to bed properly, eh, Verna, Kitty?"
"Oh yes, master," I giggled. And Kitty followed suit.
He left the dungeon with us behind him. However, Kitty had been ordered to take off her negligee, so all she had on was her open-toe sandals. And I had been told to leave my panties back there in the dungeon. As it turned out, both of us served him supper that very way, while he sat naked at the imposing cherry wood dining table in his elegantly furnished dining room. All through the meal, which his Japanese cook had prepared, he kept fondling and feeling us up, goosing us, tickling our pussies and our buttons, till we were both somewhat red in the face and trembling unsteadily by the time dessert rolled around.
Then I was told to feed Eugenia. I went down to the dungeon and took some soup. I fed poor Eugenia.
CHAPTER FIVE
Mark Fontana had left Eugenia Dalworthy in the dungeon, still tied up by the thumbs and stretching on tiptoe, her stockings sagging down around her flexing calves, while Kitty and I went back upstairs to his mirrored bedroom. It was quite a bedroom, with mirrors on all four walls and on the ceiling and a couple of cute devices instead of ordinary furniture-plus a huge king-sized bed which itself had a couple of ingenious tricks concealed in it for his amusement.
All I had on was my little purple bolero jacket and the matching red leather gloves and boots, while Kitty was naked except for her sandals. Mark had gone to the biffy first and sponged himself and put on some cologne, and all he had on was his slippers. His Japanese man-servant, a fat little guy with spectacles and slick black hair, wearing a chefs hat and white uniform, waddled in with a piping-hot chocolate souffl' and some Turkish coffee. He didn't say a word but you could tell that his eyes were practically popping out of their sockets when he saw us two naked chicks sitting on either side of Mark. I was at the left, and Kitty was across from me. Every so often she would reach under the table with one of her feet and try to rub my calf. I had a hunch that this was leading up to something, and it certainly was!
The souffl' was wonderful. I'd never eaten anything quite so rich, and I told Mark so. He was in a very good mood. "I think that Mrs. Dalworthy is going to become the official secretary of the Phoenix Club," he told us. "I haven't yet sprung on her the real reason why she's going to accept employment from me, but when we finish with this little snack and have a little fun and dispose of Kitty's punishment-" at this, Kitty looked especially glum-"why, then, we'll tell her the good news."
"What does a secretary do, master?" I respectfully inquired.
There was a little silver comb lying beside his plate, and he took it and combed his moustache, and then his gray hair before he answered. He stared at me coldly, and I shivered a little at the sight of that hawk-like beak of a nose of his and those thin, severe lips and those steely yes. Then he finally chuckled: "You certainly are an inquisitive little bitch, Verna. Well, since you're practically in the family, I don't see any reason why I can't tell you. I'm sure that your charming foster mother has acquainted you with the need for keeping your big mouth shut when you are in the presence of outsiders, eh?"
"Oh yes, master!" I hurriedly affirmed this.
"Good. I needn't tell you what I, myself, would do to you if I ever caught you blabbing, my dear. But to answer your question, once every three or four months, our little organization welcomes, shall we say, connoisseurs from all over the United States and even outside of the country. These are people who are emancipated and uninhibited, and who believe in sexual slavery and in many of the other cheering and delightful arts which unfortunately are not practiced quite so much as in the olden days. However, to answer your question directly as to what a secretary would do for us, she would take the minutes of our meetings, to be sure. She would write in detail reports of the events of the meeting, and these notes would be copied and sent to all our members as mementoes. Also, from time to time, she would be required to demonstrate some of the new techniques or lend herself as a subject to some of the new devices which we are constantly acquiring."
I could see that Eugenia Dalworthy was going to be a very busy girl as soon as she started her new duties. Kitty giggled, reached out a hand and stroked Mark Fontana's hairy bare thigh as she murmured, "She's going to be awfully upset when she finds out she has a new job, Mr. Fontana."
He calmly slapped her face. "There you go again, Kitty, talking to me as if you and I were equals! You're to call me master from this moment on, and also you've just added a little more to your punishment. And speaking of punishment, now that we've finished our little repast to give us strength for the rest of the night, I propose that we begin with it. Verna, my dear, I'm going to let you punish Kitty. Now let me see how imaginative you are. Try to find a way that will both pain her and pleasure you."
I imagined him hung from the ceiling and being fed by a dominating bitch.
He was looking at me with those thick brows of his arched and very severe, and the spotlight was on yours truly. Then I suddenly remembered how Kitty had been trying to rub her leg against mine and sort of tell me that she wanted to play girlie games, so a brilliant idea came to me. "Well, master," I told him, "I was thinking of maybe sitting in a chair and she'd be on her knees with her face right in my lap gamming me while I whacked her big bottom."
"Capital, Verna! That's very good, indeed. It will certainly stimulate me to take care of Mrs. Dalworthy properly. And here's a special chair to do just that." He pointed to a straight backed chair with very heavy legs. I could see that at the back of the front legs there were attached straps with buckles. He told me to sit down in it and then he had Kitty crawl on the floor to wards me and put her wrists out by the chair legs along the floor. He squatted down and strapped her wrists very tightly. Thus on her knees, she couldn't pull away and at the same time she was in an excellent position for gamming me. I spread my legs properly and squirmed forward to the edge of the chair so that she would have all the room she wanted. His eyes flamed as they contemplated the pink gaping lips of my pussy peeping out from the curls of my bush. "And now, what do you think you ought to spank Kitty with?" he wanted to know.
"A long-handled bath brush, master," I suggested.
"Capital again, my dear! You are really quite an inventive niece. I have just the article here." He went into his blue-tiled bathroom and came back with a long-handled nylon-bristled bath brush. It had an oval applicator and was made of shiny plastic. It would really sting Kitty's hind end. She looked back over her shoulder and started to sniffle a little. "Please master, not too hard," she quavered, "didn't I do what you wanted and tell you everything about Mrs. Dalworthy?"
"You would have had to anyway," he said drily. "However, you forgot yourself a couple of times and started to think yourself as good as any of our members, and we can't have that. Here's the brush, Verna dear. I suggest now that you spank Kitty until she makes you come. That way, there will be no set number of strokes. It will also quicken her to give you the pleasure you have just earned for your very ingenious and charming idea." With this, he sat down on the bed, lit a Havana panatela, and nodded to me.
Kitty was squirming on her knees, and looking up at me with her big limpid eyes, and then she whispered, "Please don't spank too hard, please, Verna, I'll be good to you, honest I will!"
"Start gamming me then, Kitty," I commanded. I reached out with my left hand and I plunged my fingers into her hair and twisted it. She winced and gasped, and properly jammed her mouth up against my pussy. I lifted the long-handled bath brush high in the air and brought it down with a very satisfying smack on the left cheek of her behind, and she let out a wail and squirmed forward, arching her back which was very smooth and glossy and deeply cleft by the spinal column, and I felt her sucking me like mad. Mark Fontana's eyes were sparkling now, and he was puffing away at his cigar, and I could see that that prick of his was getting hard again. What a man he was!
I wanted to shine in his eyes, I really did. I gave Kitty a good hard whack on the other cheek and she howled, and her big bottom twisted and wriggled this way and that in the most indecent way. I could feel her tongue jab between the lips of my pussy and try to find my button, and she did. I said, "Ohhh, that's nice, you just keep that up," and then I kept spanking her. I held onto her hair and I twisted and yanked it every so often just to let her know that I was boss. The spanks began to rain down now, and Kitty was sobbing and sniffling and babbling to me please not to hit her so hard, that she was doing her best, that she would make me come, and that it hurt her a lot. I could see from the mirror opposite me that her big bottom was turning a bright red. I didn't count the swats, but I'm sure I must have given her at least fifty before I finally felt myself floating away into outer space, and then I heard Mark Fontana call out, "That's enough, that's very lovely!"
Kitty straightened a little as I let go of her hair and started to cry like a baby, wiggling her behind this way and that. I had really done a job on it!
"Stop your sniveling, Kitty, before I really give you something to cry about," he said mockingly as he got up, walked over to the chair, squatted down and unstrapped her wrists. "Now come along. I'm going to give you a little pleasure this time with your former mistress."
That prospect seemed to brighten Kitty considerably, for she stopped crying, rubbed her knuckles over her eyes, although her other hand kept on soothing her blazing, inflamed bare ass. And we went back to the dungeon in which Eugenia Dalworthy was still tied up waiting our good pleasure.
CHAPTER SIX
When we entered the dungeon, Eugenia Dalworthy was still sobbing. She let out a cry of fright as she saw us come in, and her eyes couldn't help fixing on Mark Fontana's rigid prick. He was all primed and ready again, and I wondered if he took a special diet to get it up so often. Somewhere I had heard that when men hit forty they lost their drive, but he apparently had never heard of that rule.
"Oh my God, what are you going to do to me now? Oh please let me go, my thumbs hurt so, I can't stand it anymore, please, " Eugenia Dalworthy sobbed.
"Before we resume, Eugenia," he said, puffing at his cigar and coming to stand in Front of her, his eyes sweeping her heaving titties and the thick bush of her cunt, "I have some news for you. You have just been appointed secretary to the Phoenix Club. You will start working for me at once."
"Working for you? Oh God, what do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. You used to work before you married your rich old husband, I know that, so don't put on airs and make me think that it's beneath your station. Incidentally, one of the things you are going to do once you come to work for me is make a deed of gift of your inheritance over to the club."
"What? Oh no, you must be joking, you can't mean that, Mr. Fontana!"
"But I do mean it. We'll see that you're kept in relative luxury, Eugenia. The money which poor old Arthur made and would have left to us if you hadn't distracted him from changing his will is our just due. Besides, it will enable us to expand our operations and you, as an employee, will certainly profit."
"What are you talking about? What do you mean, secretary of your awful club? I want to leave here, I can't stand this anymore, oh please let me go now that you've had what you wanted!" she implored.
"But I haven't at all, Eugenia. Oh to be sure, I've fucked you. But you still have a few other things to learn before you're a real woman, the sort that you ought to have been to poor old Arthur to brighten his last months."
"I don't want to work for you, you can't make me, you can't! I'm going to the police the minute I get out of here-"
"Correction, you aren't getting out of here. You've just started your job, my dear, and one of the very explicit rules of our club stipulates that no employee may leave her employer or his or her quarters without written permission. You can be very certain that I'm not about to grant you that privilege. Oh yes, you want to know how I can make you become an employee. Well, it may interest you to know that a little while ago, while you were being thoroughly strapped and then fucked, sound motion pictures were taken of the entire episode. And of course there is a recording of Kitty's accusation against you-you know, in which you tried to get her to go to bed with you. I think it would be quite a disgrace and scandal, Eugenia, if prints of that movie and copies of the recording ever got into the hands of the authorities. As well as all your husband's friends and those few you can still call your own."
She let out a cry of absolute horror and consternation. "Oh God, you wouldn't do that, oh please no!"
"Not if you agree to my terms, Eugenia. Do I understand that you are willing to change your decision and to accept employment as my personal secretary as well as the official secretary of the Phoenix Club?"
He had reached out with both hands and forefingers and was pinching her nipples, and she yelled out, "Oh yes, yes, please, oh please let go, Mr. Fontana, you're hurting me terribly!"
"Very good. Only from now on, you are to call me master every time you address me, or mistress to any of the women members of our club, and master again to all the male members. Is that clearly understood?" Again he gave her another cruel double pinch, and she shrieked out that she was going to do everything he told her.
"That's a very fine attitude, and I compliment you on it. But I'm going to put you to the test right away, Eugenia. All right, I think we can untie you now."
He went to the wall and touched the switch and the pulley began to creak and lower the cords so that poor Eugenia's arms could drop. She tottered, sobbing wildly, and then when she saw that her hands were no longer pulled on by the cords, she sank down on her knees, bowed her head and gave vent to a fit of hysterical tears.
"So you see, Eugenia dear," Mark Fontana mockingly continued, "you might as well be sensible and accept the honorable position of secretary to the Phoenix Club. If you don't, I'm very much afraid there will be a scandal and perhaps even an investigation into your husband's death."
"But I didn't kill him-honestly I didn't-I just-I just didn't give him his medicine-and-and-"
"Thank you very much for telling me, my dear. I had some suspicions, but what you've just said has been recorded on that tape recorder over there, and it will be used against you as evidence if you should ever be foolish enough to try and leave your post and go to the authorities," he quickly interposed.
Horrified at the blunder she had made, the beautiful widow raised her haggard face to him, her mouth gaping, and then uttered a low groan of absolute desolation.
"I'm happy to see your change of attitude, Eugenia. And now, just to make sure that you will enter upon your new position with the proper spirit, I want you to reconcile with Kitty."
Over to his left there was a low rectangular bench, padded with leather, at whose four feet there were buckling straps as well as one in the exact middle. It was a whipping bench, but now it was to be used as a sort of couch of love. At his command, Eugenia Dalworthy got to her feet, and sat down on the bench, not without a gasp and a grimace of pain, for her tender and still violently discolored bottom still throbbed uncomfortably. Kitty was now summoned, and Mark Fontana instructed, " I want you to girl fuck your former employer, my dear. Get on top of her and first rub pussies. Later, you can do sixty-nine to her. As for you, Verna, I think the time has come to sacrifice the maidenhead of your bumhole."
Now it was my turn to utter a gasp of alarm. I had been fucked and lost my cherry, and I had learned how to French a man but until now my bumhole had been inviolate. The thought of that stiff cock of his entering my bowels made me shiver and shrink with fright, and I guess I showed it on my face, for he chuckled and said, "Now don't spoil your perfect record with us so far, my dear. I'll use vaseline so it will be easier for you. And anyway, I'll make you so excited that you'll hardly feel what little pain there will be."
Her face scarlet with shame and streaked with tears, Eugenia Dalworthy now obeyed his order to take off her rumpled stockings, so that now she was stark naked. Lying on her back, her arms at her sides, her eyes huge and blurred with tears, she waited as Kitty, grinning wickedly, moved towards the bench and finally laid herself down atop her former employer. "Mmm, you feel awful good, Eugenia dear," Kitty purred sadistically. "I'm going to love you up and make you beg for it. So you wanted to girl fuck me when I worked for you, did you? Well now you see you can, and the more the merrier. Let's see what a good lay you are, Eugenia dear!"
"Oh I beg of you, please, Kitty dear, don't talk to me like that, oh I just can't bear it," she groaned.
But by now Kitty had seized those big juicy titties in her hands and was squeezing them, and her mouth was stifling Eugenia Dalworthy's with savage kisses, as she began to wriggle and grind her pussy against her victim's.
"Excellent," Mark Fontana approved. Then, seating himself on a footstool, he beckoned to me and had me lie across his lap with my hands behind my back. He grasped my wrists in his left hand, and then he began to spank me, first right cheek, then left, until soon I was sobbing and kicking and struggling, and of course giving him every opportunity to see my pussy in my wild weavings and gyrations while my poor bottom began to burn and change into a very vivid red, I'm quite certain.
By now the sighs and sobs and groans of Eugenia Dalworthy were floating to my ears. Kitty was pussy-rubbing like mad, and determined that she was going to make her former mistress, hitherto so haughty and arrogant, yield to the betrayal of her body and thus tumble off her pedestal.
She was succeeding, too. Unquestionably, the hard thrashing which poor Eugenia had received from the strap had lessened her defenses, and she was beginning to groan and twist her head this way and that, and now her hands were pressed against Kitty's sides, and even though there was a sort of look of aversion and distaste on her lovely tearstained face, I could tell that she was starting to enjoy it. Her hips were bucking and quivering and wriggling back, answering Kitty's lascivious lunges and grindings. And just as Mark's hand began to beat a vivid tattoo on my poor bottom, until I was really crying and begging to be let off, I heard Eugenia Dalworthy cry out shrilly, "Oh God-oh Kitty, oh I'm going to faint-ohhhahhhoooohhh!!!"
At that very moment, he stopped the spanking, and told me I could get off his lap. But he had a different variation in mind for the sacrifice of my bumhole. Kitty was now ordered off the bench, and it was my turn to kneel on it, but in reverse so that my face was looking right down at Eugenia Dalworthy's moist, quaking cunthole. Posed as I was on all fours, I had to tilt my bottom up, and I felt Mark Fontana rub some sticky stuff on the lips of my bumhole and on the inside till I giggled and squealed because the feeling wasn't at all unpleasant. The heat of my spanking had made me sort of randy, too. In fact, watching and listening to all of this had really put me in the mood for getting exactly what I was getting.
Then I felt Mark's hands grip the cheeks of my heinie and yawn them open, and I begged him, "Oh please, take it easy, oh please, master!"
"Don't worry. You just start gamming Eugenia, because I'm going to bottom fuck you until you make her come again," he ordered.
And then he added, just to make sure that I wouldn't forget, "In case you don't do it by the time I'm ready to come in you, my girl, I'll have you tied up and let Kitty work you over with that same strap she used on Eugenia's ass. Do I make myself clear?"
"Oh yes indeed, master, I'll make her come, don't you worry!" I hastily retorted.
Bowing my head down, I began to lick Eugenia's pussylips and on inside to find her tickler. It wasn't long before she was moaning and squirming, and Kitty was told to stand over at the head of the bench and hold her wrists so that she couldn't cover up or move away.
Just then I felt Mark's prickhead pry my lips apart and move on inside, and I groaned and squirmed and wriggled a little.
"Hold still, you can wiggle that sweet ass all you want once I'm inside you," he growled.
I had never felt anything like it before. I felt as if I had to take a crap, and the muscles of my asshole were doing all sorts of tricks and it was a weird feeling. It also made me terribly sexy. And all of a sudden, I felt his fingertip start rubbing my own tickler, and then I really began to feel randy. I groaned and mewled like a cat in heat, and my tongue dug into Eugenia's pussy and found her tickler and flattened and rolled it around until I could feel her wriggling and hear her sobbing and groaning. He took it very easy and slow, but just the same I felt as if I were being split apart slowly inch by inch. Every so often I felt all sorts or tightenings of my asshole, and it must have gripped his prick and made him very happy, because he was panting that I was doing it very well and that he was pleased with me.
Then suddenly he must have got excited, because I felt his fingers dig into my poor sore asscheeks till I really cried out in pain, and all of a sudden his big hard thing dug to the very balls inside of me, and I felt myself rubbing my bottom against his belly, we were that closely sealed.
I could feel the walls of my bumhole quaking and clipping and nipping and gripping him, and he groaned aloud, "You're wonderful, Verna, now don't do anything, don't you dare budge. Pretty soon I'm really going to bottom fuck you, but right now I just want to rest and enjoy it. You go on with what you're doing."
I did. Eugenia Dalworthy was almost at the pitch, and her bottom was squirming around frantically, as if she had St. Vitus's dance.
Now he began to pull it back and forth inside of me, taking short strokes and digs, never leaving me by more than halfway, and all the time his finger was frigging me. I started to feel dizzy and the most delightful sensation was taking hold of me all over. Both my pussy and my asshole felt as if I were really being fucked by two men at the same time.
And then suddenly he uttered a bellow, and I felt his gism bubble into my bumhole, and I almost fainted, because at the same time his finger was working my tickler so fast that I was just about ready to gush.
I didn't neglect Eugenia, however. My tongue kept working on her tickler, which was swollen and stiff just like a man's prick. And pretty soon she let out a yell and began to toss and twist and kick her legs in the air, and then her body stiffened, and she sagged in a kind of faint. I had made her come.
When he pulled out of me, I uttered a yell, because it was so disappointing. It had felt so good inside of me, and now my bumhole felt empty and stretched. Once again the urge to take a crap returned, stronger than ever. For I could feel that he had made me come to climax with his finger. And I was reeling and tottering on that bench on all fours.
"This will make a superb movie to show our members and our guests," he declared in a shaky voice as he walked over to his chair, got a cigar and lit it. "Now then, Kitty, if you'll be so good as to tie Eugenia there on the spanking horse, we'll leave her to rest a little and I'll go get some champagne for all of us. Then we'll finish her initiation."
"Oh you can't mean any more spanking or whipping or anything like that tonight, oh please no, oh I'm done in," Eugenia Dalworthy cried.
"You'd be amazed at what a capacity you really have for pleasing lovers, my dear woman," he chuckled mockingly. "Come along girls. We don't have to tie her up, the dungeon will keep her locked in until we're ready for her again."
CHAPTER SEVEN
If Eugenia Dalworthy thought that she was finished for the night after her former maid Kitty had girl fucked her, she was aw fully mistaken. After Mark Fontana had very neatly blackmailed her into becoming the secretary of the Phoenix Club (confronting her with her own admission on tape that she had probably been responsible for her elderly husband's death by withholding his medicine), she was really crushed. And she was also scared. As for myself, I was a little sore because, after all, that great big cock of Mark's had taken the virginity of my bumhole, after I had had a pretty severe spanking from his quite capable and. I hobbled a little, and he chucked derisively at my woebegone appearance. But mainly he had Eugenia on his mind. "Tell you what, Kitty, Verna," he told us, "the two of you can go find a bed somewhere and have your fun together. I won't need you until tomorrow. I'm going to spend the rest of the night with Eugenia right here." He had had us bring her back up from the dungeon.
"Can't I stay and watch, please, master?" Kitty petitioned.
"No-wait a minute, I may still have some use for you. I want to be sure that this new employee of mine is going to be properly humble. Suppose you take that leather strap again, Kitty, and stand over her. As for you, Eugenia, get down on your knees in front of me.
We were in the mirrored bedroom, and I could see everything that was going on. The trembling naked widow hastily got down on her knees, looking up at Mark Fontana as if he were the devil himself. She wasn't far wrong.
"Do you see my cock, Eugenia?" he asked her.
"Y-yes."
He made a gesture with his hand, and Kitty promptly sent the strap whacking across Eugenia's dimpled shoulders. She let out a scream and twisted round on her knees and began to sob, "Oh, please don't, not anymore, I'm so sore already!"
"Every time you fail to call me master, Eugenia, Kitty is going to give you a good hard stroke with that strap. Now let me hear you say it properly once and for all," he commanded.
"Yes, mm-master," she blubbered. Tears were rolling down her face, and she was looking more scared than ever. She also glanced nervously back round at Kitty, who grinned at her, winked, then slowly lifted the strap. She started to whimper and crouched a little closer to Mark Fontana, which of course was just what he wanted.
"That's better. Don't ever forget it. In any meetings of our club members, be extremely sure that you use that term of respect to me. And even when we're together alone, don't forget it, ever," he reminded her very sternly. Then, smiling down at her as she knelt there trembling and with her hands clasped, wondering what was going to happen next, he ordered, "You said you saw my cock. I want you to take it in your fingers, Eugenia, open your mouth and give it a nice big kiss. After that you can start sucking and licking it."
"Oh no! Oh for God's sake, master, don't make me do a filthy thing like that! Oh please no, please, haven't you had enough of me already?"
"I haven't even started to have you, you bitch," he laughed. "Unless you want to get tied back up by the thumbs and have Kitty and Verna there both take straps and work you over front and back, you better start doing what I tell you to. You're just a slave now, and while you're my secretary, you're even more a slave than ever. As such, any slave who refuses to obey an order or who even hesitates or tries to discuss or argue it, gets punished in this household, and that goes for all the members of the club. Just drive that into your head, my dear, and that big red ass of yours might get a little respite every so often."
She began to sniffle again, and at his sign, Kitty gave her another good lash across the shoulders that drew a shriek from her. Kitty was raising the strap again and Eugenia got the general idea and, with a wild cry of, "Oh, don't, I'm going to do it, don't hit me anymore," took hold of his cock with both hands and fed it to her mouth. I could see her close her eyes, I could see her shrink, and her face seemed to twist as if she were absolutely revulsed, which she probably was.
"Not too hard now and not too quickly. Gently does it, Eugenia," he admonished her. His fingers began to play with her hair, twisting it this way and that to force her to stay close to him. "Take just the head inside your mouth now. Good. Now draw on it, with soft sucking breaths. That's the way. Good. Now lick a little, put your tongue against the lips and brush them slowly and delicately-mmmmm, I'll make a French artist out of you yet. It would have been much better for you if you'd given poor old Arthur a heart attack by doing just this to him instead of letting him die without any sex at all. The virgin widow, eh? Well, we're making up for it. Which reminds me, now that you've lost your second virginity, you still have one left. I think you can guess where it is, Eugenia. Remember what I did to Verna?"
She let go of his cock and shrank back, uttered a wild cry of stupefaction: "Oh my God in heaven, you-you aren't going to do a horrible thing like that to me, oh please no! Please, I'll do anything you want, but please don't do that, it's so horrible, it'll hurt so!"
"I imagine it will. But if you don't get back to work sucking my cock and getting me ready for you, Eugenia, I'll bottom fuck you dry, and it'll hurt twice as much," he warned her.
To quicken her obedience, he made another sign and once again the strap crashed over her bare shoulders. It was followed by another one that bit across her already inflamed bottom, and this really decided Eugenia Dalworthy to be a good girl and not argue any longer. Wriggling her big behind back and forth, squirming on her knees, sobbing as if her heart would break, she sucked diligently at his prick, and at his instructions began to tickle his balls and scrotum. The sight of her big bubbies dangling there, heaving and panting, the sight of her tears down her reddened and contorted face, and the sight of that inflamed big ass of hers really got me itchy between my legs. I was still warm from the spanking and my bumhole felt as if it had been stretched a mile wide. That was a natural reaction. And I began to feel very, very sexy. I guess maybe there was just a little of the masochist in me, and just a little of the sadist too, in watching this big haughty wealthy woman, this aristocratic snob, get what was coming to her. I suppose misery loves company, and maybe that's why after my own ordeals as an orphan who found herself adopted by a "swinging set" of foster parents, I was secretly glad to find that I wasn't going to be the only whipping girl around.
Yes, I thought to myself, if only the superintendent of the orphanage could see me now! He'd never recognize me, that was for sure.
Then he made Eugenia tilt her head and lick along the shaft of his cock from the groove back to his balls and all the way back to the tip again and then on the other side, since she was wriggling and twisting her big red ass in the most salacious way. I knew that Kitty was just dying to give her a couple more swats, but Mark held up his hand and stopped her. So long as Eugenia was behaving herself and obeying, she was safe. I watched, fascinated, to see that big stiff prick of his get all hard again and the veins standing out against the skin so tightly. It was amazing how much he had already fucked and he still was ready for action now.
"Now then, Eugenia, get into bed and kneel down facing the head of the bed," he ordered.
"Oh I beg of you, don't do it to me in my behind, oh don't, please m-master," she sobbed.
"Perhaps you'd like some more strapping," he suggested.
"Oh no!" she yelled, and scrambled to the bed and took the requisite pose.
"All right, Kitty, make yourself useful now. Lay there in front of her, pull your knees back to your bubbies, hold onto the backs of your knees, and you, Eugenia, start licking Kitty's pussy and bumhole. To give yourself more support while I bugger you, you might just as well grab hold of Kitty's hips and hold her steady. Get ready now," he commanded.
Then he turned to me and said, "There's a jar of vaseline in the little drawer of that night table. Get some on your fingers, and come grease my prick for me and then you can goose Eugenia and ease the entry a little bit for her, since she's behaving herself now."
I hurried to obey. Eugenia was glancing back fearfully, and still sniffling, and still crying. While I worked on his cock, anointing it with vaseline from tip to balls, she couldn't take her eyes off it. It seemed to be bigger than when he had first come into the dungeon.
When he got behind her, she groaned and begged him please to take it easy, and I giggled, for she had certainly squealed and carried on when I had goosed her and introduced some of the vaseline inside her bumhole to make it easier to take that big horse cock of his.
"Now get to work on Kitty, it'll take your mind off what's going to happen, Eugenia," he told her.
Grabbing her by the hips, he prodded his prick first against her pussy, and she gasped, and then he shifted himself so that he prodded against the shrinking lips of her asshole. Now his hands moved down to grab the reddened cheeks and pry them open and she groaned again and sobbed, "Oh please take it easy, oh please don't hurt me, I'll obey you, but please don't hurt me, master, my bottom hurts so awfully already!"
"And it's going to hurt a good deal more if you don't get to work on Kitty right away," he threatened her.
So she began to gam Kitty, who soon began to squeal and groan in delight, but Eguenia's wails and gasps and sobbing prayers drowned her out completely. I was really fascinated by the sight. In fact, I was slyly putting a finger to my pussy and frigging myself, it was so exciting.
He took it very easy with her. An inch or so at a time, then a halt, while she wriggled on his harpoon and sobbed and groaned and looked back and tried to beg off. But all he had to do was warn her that she would get spanked good and hard, and order her to go back to work on Kitty, and she would obey. Another inch or two, and she would yell that she couldn't stand it any more, that she was trying hard to obey but please wouldn't he spare her, and then the same threat and the same reaction. She was awfully hard to convince, until finally she had every inch he had to offer inside of her, and by then she had forgotten completely about begging off. He reached his left hand down between her and in front, and started to frig her tickler. Then she really started to twist and jerk her ass, and to plunge her tongue wildly into Kitty's pussy. Kitty was in seventh heaven. She was fondling her own titties, her head tilted back, a dreamy, creamy expression on her face, which the ceiling mirror reflected. In fact, all the mirrors in this room reflected this entire scene, and it was really something.
I understood that Mark Fontana had some very expensive movie equipment and I guessed that he was probably taking a film of what was going on right now, completely with sound. It would really be something to play over for himself on a cold winter's night about twenty years from now when he couldn't get it up any more. You didn't see stag movies like this even at the theaters where you paid three or five bucks for really blue films.
Then he began to bottomfuck her, with a regular rhythm. Eugenia was frantic now, and her hoarse groans and sobs filled the air. But there wasn't pain in them any more, there was a certain kind of masochistic pleasure. He was frigging her tickler, and suddenly she screamed and lurched forward onto Kitty, and Kitty promptly clamped her thighs around Eugenia's scarlet, tear-stained face, till the spasm passed. Then and only then did Mark Fontana shoot the last drops of his gism into Eugenia Dalworthy's asshole.
But when he made her cleanse his cock by sucking it, this she absolutely refused to do. That is, she refused until, at his order, I held her by the wrists and Kitty got the strap and started working on her ass and thighs again, and after about ten licks, she did it. She retched and gagged, but she did it. Then she sprawled on the bed, weeping as if her heart would break. She wasn't the vaunted rich widow any more, she was just a slavegirl.
"All right, girls, go to bed and have fun," he said. "Eugenia and I will console each other, you might say. I'm very pleased with both of you. I'll see you around noon for lunch."
So we reluctantly left, because Kitty and I were both wondering by then how much more action a man like that could perform after what he had done already. As we were leaving, I saw him go over to a sideboard in one corner, open a decanter of what was probably brandy, and take a good snort. Then he smacked his belly, let out a sigh of pleasure, and slowly walked back over to Eugenia. She lay sprawled on her belly, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. My, was her ass red and swollen! I could see him put one hand on her shoulder and force her to roll over onto her back, and just as we went out, damned if he wasn't in her saddle again and prodding his limp prick against her pussy. And her arms were clinging to him and her legs were wrapped around his thighs too, so I guess she had learned her lesson.
I have to confess that I was so roused that I followed his suggestion-though it was probably an order-and when Kitty and I found a guest room and a bed, we fell into each other's arms and girl-fucked until we creamed, and then fell asleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was the cute new maid, Edna, who woke us up on Saturday around noon, and all she had on was an apron, lace cap, horn-rimmed glasses, gunmetal-gray nylon hose and a black satin-elastic garter-belt, and red leather highheeled pumps. She was really a sexy little dish and I loved the way she blushed. It was the way I used to blush at the orphanage when somebody said a naughty word they shouldn't, in those early peaceful, childish years, ever so long before I had met up with Lisa and Weldon Thomas.
"You're to come in to breakfast right away," she told us. "Just put on your pumps, that's all Mr. Fontana wants you to have on. Better wash up first."
"We don't need you to tell us that, you snotty little bitch," Kitty sniffed imperiously.
"I'm going to tell Mr. Fontana what you said and you'll be sorry," Edna jeered, and stuck out her tongue just like a school kid. Kitty doubled her fist, but thought better of it and then remembered that she herself was still reasonably new and had already had one good spanking for impudence. "I'm sorry," she amended hastily. "We'll be right there, you tell him that."
"All right. But don't you ever call me that again or say things like that to me, because I have to report it," Edna informed her with a triumphant air. Then she marched out, her cute ass jiggling.
"Cripes, what I wouldn't give to use the strap on her tail," Kitty muttered as she headed for the bathroom.
Anyway, in a few minutes we were back out in the dining room, looking very self-conscious in just our bare skins and high heel pumps, and there was Mark in a bathrobe and sandals and nothing under the bathrobe, and Eugenia Dalworthy.
She wasn't really sitting at the table, because she happened to be kneeling beside him. She was serving him a plate of toast which she first buttered for him, then she would hold up plates of bacon and eggs, and finally she would take the coffee pot and pour it into the cup he tendered to her. All she had on was a lace cap and a little apron and green leather highheeled pumps. Her hair had been combed out until it hung beneath her shoulderblades, and her eyes were swollen and very much downcast. I had never before seen such a change in anybody in such a short time as I saw in Eugenia Dalworthy, and that's for sure.
"Glad to see you, girls. Did you have a good night?" Mark Fontana breezily asked as he helped himself to another portion of bacon and eggs and took a good swig of strong black coffee. Fact is, I was feeling somewhat hungry myself. I'm told that fucking really gives you an appetite, and I'm here to say that's true-at least for me it is.
"Yes, thank you very much master," I replied as chipperly as I dared. "Kitty and I had fun, the way you suggested."
"Very good. So did Eugenia and myself. Isn't that right, slave?" He looked down at her.
She turned red as a peony, lowered her eyes again and mumbled, "Yes master."
"I'm afraid poor Eugenia didn't get much sleep last night," he said after he had finished his meal and lit a cigar. "She more than made up for being a virgin during her marriage to poor old Arthur. Didn't you, my dear?"
"Oh yes, master," came in a very low, shaky voice.
"And she's thoroughly resigned to being our secretary, I might add," he looked at us and winked. "We're going to have a meeting a week from yesterday. Of course you will be here, Verna. It's going to be over at the Murton's house. I'll tell your foster parents so they'll be sure to spare you. Oh yes, I know," he probably anticipated what I was going to break in with, about having to go to Henrietta Chapman's next Friday, because he added, "I know you're supposed to visit Henrietta. However, she's very graciously conceded her rights to you for the week following, because this meeting is quite important to all of us. You might say it kicks off the fall season. There will be a lot of new faces and a few applications for new members which we have to take under discussion and advisement, you see."
We looked at each other.
I didn't, but it wasn't any of my business. He was just being in an affable mood, because after all he had had a terrific night of pleasure with poor Eugenia. And I much preferred him on the brighter side than when he was serious and mean and those cruel eyes of his bored a hole like a gimlet right through you, and that gray moustache and the hawk-like nose made you think you were in the presence of Old Nick. He was hairy and wiry enough to resemble all the pictures I had ever seen of what the devil was supposed to look like, and all he needed was the horns and the cloven hoof.
"Go ahead and serve the young ladies, Eugenia," he told the buxom widow. "This is the first real day of your apprenticeship, and I want to make sure you are thoroughly broken in." After she had bobbed her head and mumbled something like, "Yes master," he looked at me and winked and said, "I got a phone call about an hour ago from your foster parents. They're having a great time with Amy and Ruth. They just wanted to know how you were getting along. I told them you were doing fine."
"Thank you very much, master," I quickly replied. "It's a pleasure for me to obey you."
"There, Eugenia, did you hear that?" he gloatingly remarked as he looked down at her. "There's a girl who's not much more than sixteen, and after a few weeks she's a perfect, obedient slavegirl. That's what I expect of you, because you're more than twice her age. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, master," Eugenia Dalworthy quavered, looking utterly miserable and blushing even more.
She came around and served us, and I took a certain vindictive and spiteful pleasure in making her stay there until I had helped myself to all the bacon and eggs and toast I wanted, and then I even told her to butter my toast. I was sort of scared a little that maybe I had gone too far, but Mark was watching me and he chuckled and nodded his head in approval: "That's exactly the way to train her, Verna. Good work. Now this evening, I'm going to see to it that all of you rest up throughout the afternoon so that you'll be ready for the fun and games. I have a young married couple coming, and I think that you remember, Verna, the fun you had with Rae Surkont and her husband, Clarence."
"Yes master, very well."
"Good. I run a small business in San Francisco, under a different name for corporate and tax purposes. It needn't concern you, except to indicate that the couple who are going to be visiting tonight are on that particular payroll," he told me. "The husband is a very timid man, and his wife is something of a masochist. She wants to be forced and to suffer, and she hopes that maybe watching her get it will arouse the beast in her husband, if you know what I mean. It's not unlike the deal that we used on Rae and Clarence, you see."
"I understand, master. I'll do whatever you tell me to," I told him.
"That's a good girl. What I want you to do is to seduce the husband. And I want the wife to see it. Of course she'll be very indignant and she'll probably insult all of us, and that will mean she'll have to be punished. Her husband doesn't know what's going on, I might tell you. The wife herself made some overtures to me, because she's something of a nymphomaniac-which means, in short words, that she's got hot pants. You understand me, Verna?"
"Yes, master."
"You're a very intelligent young woman. I can see that you're going to be of great help in our organization. And if the Thomases ever tire of you, there'll always be a home for you here with me. Now to go on. This woman, as I said, wanted to advance her husband's interest with the silly notion of thinking that if she went to bed with me, I would be more generous towards him. She was quite mistaken. But she did give me to understand something about her nature and how disappointed she is that he hasn't been able to satisfy her. So I invited him and her together, and so although she may suspect that she's going to have a little fun, she doesn't quite know exactly what's going to happen, and that's where you come in. As for the man, he's quite personable, and you will find it very easy to seduce him. He's something of an innocent, and he has a habit of respecting women and putting them on a pedestal. That's why he doesn't take his marital rights with her as often as she would care to have him do so."
There was a pause in the conversation.
"I understand very well. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it," I declared.
So on that happy note we broke up, and I was relieved to find that I wasn't going to get a spanking. The one I'd had from his hand the night before was still tingling pleasantly, though it hadn't at the time. And I could feel how tender the lips of my bumhole were after that browning he'd given me, the very first of my career. Now I didn't have a single maidenhead left, and for a girl not quite seventeen, I really had learned a great deal about sex and its many manifestations in an extremely short time.
So then Mark Fontana dismissed us and told us to go take a good long nap and that Edna would wake us up when it was time to get ready for the evening's events. As we left, I glanced back and saw that he had extended his bare right foot towards Eugenia's mouth and that she was holding it by the heel and reverently kissing the toes. It must have been hell for her, after being a pampered widow whose husband didn't even fuck her once during their marriage and who was counting on all the dough she had inherited from him to live the life of Riley. She certainly wasn't living it now! But I supposed she would learn to like her new one soon enough.
After Edna woke us up, we took another shower, and Kitty tried to fool around a little bit with me, and I guess I let her, because there wasn't any sense in making an enemy of somebody I was probably going to have to see a lot of. Mark Fontana had given Edna orders about what we were going to wear. I was to put on my bikini panties and my blouse and boots and gloves, and Kitty was to wear just a short muumuu, a purple and gold and green affair that just went past her pussy and showed the lower cheeks of her behind in a very tempting way, plus her highheeled pumps. We were going to have dinner at seven, Edna said, and when it was time, we walked into the dining room and there was Mark Fontana dressed in a tuxedo with bow tie, looking very natty and poised. At his right, there sat a simply delicious female, with auburn hair done in a sort of mannish do, an alert, vivacious face, tawny-skinned and freckled, with dainty snub nose, a very ripe mouth, and brooding dark-brown eyes. At her left was a young man wearing spectacles, curly brown hair, and looking very self-conscious. It was obvious that his wife was flirting a little with Mark Fontana, and he was just a little bit uncomfortable about it.
It wouldn't have been the first time though.
"Come in, girls," Mark called when he saw us. Eugenia wasn't around, by the way. "These are my good friends Sally and James Forrester. Jim works for me in San Francisco, and I persuaded him and his lovely wife Sally to come down and taste our hospitality on his vacation."
Kitty and I walked over to the table and Kitty did a little curtsey in front of James Forrester that had him adjusting his glasses and coughing and looking redder in the face than ever if that were possible. His wife Sally watched with an amused look, and I could see that she was leaning close to Mark and giving him the eye. Was she ever going to be in for a surprise, I thought!
It was really a marvelous dinner, with roast chicken in wine sauce and mushrooms, sweet potatoes, a tossed salad with a super dressing, and Cherries Jubilee, and there was lots of wine. Mark Fontana nodded to me to help myself, just making one comment that I shouldn't overdo it, and of course I didn't. I settled for two glasses, and they made me pleasantly lightheaded, which I was sure he wanted.
I was studying James Forrester, because I was supposed to seduce him. He was really a handsome fellow, and awfully self-conscious and embarrassed. He had a timid voice, and you could see he wasn't a dynamo. I could understand why a sexy piece like his wife Sally would get a little impatient with him when she wanted plenty of good hard fucking and he would probably treat her with kid gloves on.
After we had our cordials and coffee and Mark had his eternal cigar, he suggested a little tour of the big house, and of course the Forresters agreed.
Naturally, we went downstairs to the dungeons, and Mark opened one of the doors and put his arm around Sally and suggested that she go inside and look for herself, while her husband also followed. Kitty and I followed Mark, and it was Kitty who closed the door and shot the bolt at his gesture.
Mark moved back to us to whisper, "Now I want both of you to grab Mrs. Forrester and tie her in that pillory, and then you, Verna, go have fun with Mr. Forrester, agreed?"
I whispered yes, and then the two of us advanced on the unsuspecting auburn-haired Sally. Kitty sweetly asked her to come over and look at a very old antique which had a special use in the Middle Ages. Curiosity is known to kill a cat, and I guess it got the better of Sally Forrester. She was about twenty-four, from what I had gathered at the dinner table. Anyway, she followed Kitty over, and I was behind her, and Kitty opened up the top half of the pillory and said that that was how criminals were displayed in the olden days to all the villagers, and Sally went ahead and stupidly put her neck and wrists into it and giggled. Down it came and it was locked in place and there she was helpless and secure. The two of us walked away and back to the stupefied young bespectacled Mr. Forrester.
"Let my wife go, please-I'm sure that terrible thing must hurt," he begged.
"Now don't get excited Mr. Forrester," Mark Fontana drawled. "Your wife is a very beautiful young woman and likely to be quite jealous. I have a little treat for you, by way of a bonus for the fine work you've done in my office."
"I-I don't understand, Mr. Fontana," the bespectacled young brown-haired man stammered. "Please let my wife out of that dreadful thing."
"It's a pillory, and there's absolutely no danger. If she doesn't struggle too much, she'll be quite comfortable. Besides, as you can see, she'll be able to watch from a certain vantage point," Mark Fontana twitted him. "Go ahead, Verna, do your stuff."
I went down on my knees and before James Forrester could suspect what I had in mind, I had yanked down his zipper, plunged my hand inside his fly, unbuttoned his shorts and taken out his cock. Then as he gasped and stared down at me in consternation, petrified with surprise, I cuddled it in my hands and put my mouth to the head and began to suck at it.
"My God-what are you doing, young lady-stop it-Mr. Fontana, this is outrageous-" he gasped, turning very red.
"I'd say it was very nice," my host and master pro tem chuckled as he puffed at his panatela. "I can assure you that Verna is a very talented young lady who will give you a good deal of pleasure."
"Jim, tell that wicked girl to stop doing that to you-do you hear me?" Sally Forrester cried from her place in the pillory.
"I can't help it, my dear, I didn't even expect that she would ever dream of doing a thing like that," he gasped. He tried ineffectually to put his hands on my head and sort of push me away, but I had a pretty good hold myself. I grabbed hold of his thighs and by this time I had half his prick inside my mouth and I was sucking on it to beat the band. I could feel it swell and throb and harden right away. There was nothing wrong with James Forrester that a little Frenching wouldn't cure. Maybe his wife hadn't done that to him, but whatever the reason was, I wouldn't accept her theory that he was sexless, not by a long shot.
"Ohh-stop it-Mr. Fontana, will you please make her stop that-I'm so-I'm so ashamed-it's dreadfully embarrassing."
"It's being a man, Jim, and that's what I want you to be. Now just relax and enjoy yourself. Let Sally get as impatient and jealous as she likes, this is your night to howl," Mark Fontana told him.
Then he gestured towards a low padded leather couch near the wall and said, "Verna dear, why don't you take Jim over there and make the two or you both comfy?"
I looked up for an instant from Jim Forrester's prick. I didn't want to move, I was so involved in my sucking adventure with him. "Can't I stay here?" I asked foolishly. I should have known better than to say anything, even the simplest thing, that might anger my master, the infamously impatient Mark Fontana.
He glared at me.
"Are you attempting to contradict me, my dear Verna?" he asked me directly. "Are you sure you don't want to retract that question?"
I decided I had better do that-definitely.
"Of course, master," I said. I got up from my knees, I took the astonished young husband by the hand and led him over to the couch and then pulled him down beside me. Then I promptly bowed my head over him and went back to Frenching.
"don't-my God-Verna-is that your name? Please, I beg of you, not in front of my wife-oh this is terribly embarrassing-my God, what are you doing to me-" he ejaculated hoarsely.
"Frenching you, Mr. Forrester," I looked up at him wide eyed and ingenuous as though I hadn't the faintest notion what he was thinking about.
"But-but-but," he spluttered, "you're so young-that's a dreadful thing for a girl to do to a strange man she's never met before-"
"She did it at my instructions, Jim," Mark Fontana interposed. He'd come over to watch us now, and was puffing at his cigar and smiling down at the flustered, redfaced young man. His prick was sticking upright out of his opened trousers fly, and he really looked as if he were ready to faint. But he couldn't stop the fact or hide it either that his cock was gigantically erect and that the lips were euckering up with all the juice he had inside im, only too eager to burst away at the right moment.
"You see, Jim, your charming wife has done me the honor of making me her confidante," Mark Fontana went on after another puff at his cigar. "The two of you have been married about eight months, and you've really frustrated her a good deal."
"I-I don't understand-what's the meaning of all this-oh for God's sake, Mr. Fontana, what sort of game is this? Whatever it is, I don't like it at all-tell that young lady to stop, before she drives me crazy!" he babbled.
"Just listen a moment and bear with me please, Jim. I said I was very pleased with your work and you're going to get a bonus. However, your wife is a very excitable and passionate young woman. She doesn't think you're coming up to snuff at bedtime performances, Jim old boy. That's why I took it upon myself, as you might say, to arrange a little amusement for you particularly, because the experience that Verna can give you will be very valuable when you and Sally go to bed together again."
"What???" he gasped, his eyes huge and disbelieving. He stared at Mark Fontana as if he couldn't believe the testimony of his senses. I went back to sucking his cock, and he tried to push me away again. But I wasn't to be denied. Now my tongue was scraping down the shaft and over the lips of the head, and he was beginning to groan and squirm. I was getting to him.
"Oh you horrid girl, just wait until I get my hands on you!" Sally cried from the pillory. "You dirty little hussy, stop it, stop it, I tell you!"
"Never mind her, Jim," Mark Fontana chuckled. "Just let yourself go for once. A little variety never hurt a young married man. You'll be able to do better by Sally once you learn a few tricks from our Verna, here. Now then, Verna dear, I'm going to leave you with Jim, and give you a little time to get acquainted with him. Kitty, you can go over to Sally and keep her company."
"Yes, master," Kitty perked up at once. I could see that she was going to give Sally a few unpleasant moments. My chore was somewhat more pleasant, however.
So Mark Fontana left and I pushed Jim Forrester back on the couch and I told him to relax and enjoy it. In fact, I told him that he was going to get loved up anyway no matter what he did, and he might just as well have some fun doing it. He just couldn't believe it. He kept repeating, "My goodness, what sort of boss nave I got. You're so young-you're a minor, this is sinful, criminal." But I finally silenced him with a kiss and then I let down my bikini panties and wriggled over him. Dressed as he was, his cock was still sticking out of his pants, and I made the most of it. I adjusted it inside my tight sheath, and sank down until I impaled myself to his balls. Sally, meanwhile, was wild with jealousy. She kept yelling for him to stop that and that she hated him, and that he didn't have any right and that he didn't love her any more, until finally Kitty got a little annoyed.
"I'll give you something to yell about, Sally," she told the fuming auburn-haired beauty. There was something perverse about Sally Forrester, maybe it was her mannish hairdo which made her look like a dyke. But she was certainly feminine so far as her figure was concerned. I stopped a few minutes to watch Kitty proceed. First she pulled up Sally's blue rayon skirt and white slip beneath it to the young woman's waist and tied a cord around the garments to keep them up. Sally had on a pair of very cute pink nylon panties, and these came down at once. It left her in just a garterbelt whose tabs held her beige-tinted nylons. She was about five feet six and a half, I'd say, and she had long springy calves and deliciously long but beautifully rounded thighs. Her butt was composed of two tightly spaced broadly oval cheeks and with a lovely tawny skin. It was smooth and glossy, and Kitty tested it with her palm a couple of times by giving her some energetic swats until there were flaming marks on both heinie cheeks. Sally yelled indignantly at this treatment, but Kitty ignored it.
As for me, I went back to fucking. I was going up and down on Jim Forrester, and he was starting to groan and really to enjoy it. Finally he grabbed hold of me and kissed me hard, and then I felt his gism gush into my cunt. I might mention that at dinner time, Mark Fontana had had Enid give me some special oral pills which would prevent my having a baby. It was a good thing too, and I only hoped that the pills worked because Jim Forrester really drenched my pussy with a torrent.
Sally was really frantic now with her panties clinging to her knees, watching Kitty go over to the panoply on the wall and take down a swishy long yellow malacca cane with a cord-grip handle.
Without a word, Kitty came back and lodged the cane right across the plumpest curves of Sally's ass, and then gave her a good whisk which bounced off the firm cheeks and drew a yell of pain from Sally and a frantic flurry of kicking.
"You've got a lovely pair of lungs on you, Sally," I heard Kitty say, "so I'm going to give you a chance to use them. How do you like that one? And that one?"
Each time she spoke, the cane danced off Sally's naked seat, and Sally's piercing cries attested to the fact that she didn't care for it one little bit. She was lunging now from side to side with her striped bottom, and I could see that she had a very thick dark-auburn bush which hid the lips of her pussy. She was wrenching at her bound wrists and trying to get her neck loose from the top board of the pillory, and of course in vain.
"What-what is she doing to my poor Sally?" Jim Forrester gasped, as he lay there trembling from the fury of his climax.
"Giving her a little spanking, Jim, nothing to worry about. You ought to do that to her regularly," I giggled. He was really a man, and all he needed was some encouragement. When I got off, I hurried to the biffy which was concealed by a narrow door at the far end of the dungeon, and then I came back to him. I had taken my panties off and I had decided to take off my blouse too, so he could admire my titties. In just my gloves and boots, I really did look cute, and I could see his eyes widen and fix on me as I walked back to the couch.
Meanwhile, Kitty was still spanking poor Sally, who was howling for fair and begging to be let off.
Just then Mark Fontana walked in, took in the situation and called for Kitty to stop. Sally was sobbing her heart out and when she caught sight of him, she began to groan, "Oh Mr. Fontana, this awful girl has been hitting me with that dreadful cane, I don't know why she's doing it to me, oh please, you ought to punish her!"
"I will. But you'll be the one to do it."
"I want to! If you only knew what she did to me!" Sally Forrester wailed.
Mark Fontana came over to the pillory. All he had on was his bathrobe now and his sandals, and he was puffing another cigar. He unlocked the top board of the pillory and helped her get loose, but he didn't do anything about pulling down her clothes. She turned crimson when she saw his eyes fix on her thick shaggy pussy hair, and then she gasped tearfully, "Oh please, let me get dressed, I'm so ashamed to be like this before you!"
"No need to be. You're very lovely this way. All right, Verna, Kitty, help me get her over to the bench."
"Oh now-what do you mean-what are going to do to me now-oh help me, Jim, help me!" Sally Forrester screamed.
But he was still in a sort of daze after the good fucking I had given him, and he just lay there with his eyes wide and sort of stupefied, and with his mouth open. His cock was getting hard again, I saw.
Sally Forrester was shoved down on a low wide whipping bench, her wrists and ankles strapped, and Mark Fontana took the precaution of pulling her panties completely off before her ankles were fettered.
"Now then, Sally," he told her as he shed his bathrobe and stood nude, his prick in all its swollen glory, "you're going to punish Kitty with your tongue and lips. Get into position, Kitty!"
Kitty took off her shortie muumuu, knelt in front of the horrified auburn-haired young wife's face and, her hands on her hips, arched herself forward so that her pussy hairs rubbed against Sally's contorted mouth: "Gam me now, Sally dear," she cooed.
"Oh no-I can't-I won't do such an awful thing-Mr. Fontana, I appeal to you in the name of humanity, don't do this to us, why are you torturing us so horribly? What have I done?"
"I'm glad to see you admit that it's you who have done something and not your husband," he retorted. "You tried to make more than one pass at me, and you had the idea that perhaps if I found you attractive, I would push your husband faster along on his job. He's doing quite well as it is without your help. In fact, you're only a hindrance. And since you are complaining about his not being able to accommodate you in bed, I thought that as part of my hospitality I owed it to him for good work done to give you exactly what you've been complaining about. I'm sure if he watches, he'll get ideas on how to deal with you in the future, young woman."
"But I...." she began.
By this time, James Forrester had sort of roused himself, sat up on the couch and gasped, "Mr. Fontana, for heaven's sake, what are you going to do to my poor wife?"
"Initiate her into a few ingenious methods of lovemaking, Jim, which wiD give you a lot more pleasure in bed."
"But-but, I mean to say, Mr. Fontana," he stammered, getting very red in the face and putting his hand over his still stiff prick, "this is unheard of! I mean, I work for you, but you haven't got any right to handle my wife that way and treat her that way-please!"
"Young man, you seemed to enjoy what Verna just did to you, didn't you? Now answer me truthfully!"
"Yes, but-but she took advantage of me-and I didn't know!"
"Quit hedging! The fact is you did enjoy it, and more to the point is that I have had a tape recording as well as a movie camera with sound taking down every little bit of that charming scene you and Verna just went through," Mark Fontana told him. "So I wouldn't be the first to talk about morality, old chap. If some of my business associates were to see the movie and listen to the tape, I'd say that your business future might be in jeopardy," Mark Fontana finished with a saturnine chuckle.
The ground was just pulled out from under James Forrester, and you could see that from the way he sat there, with his mouth open, his eyes staring, as Mark Fontana now moved leisurely towards the back of the punishment bench and knelt down between Sally's straddled nylon-sheathed thighs. Playfully he picked up the garter tabs, drawing them out as far as he could and then snapped them right against her bare flesh. She squealed and wriggled, and burst into tears, "Oh Jim, please don't let him do this to me, please!"
I knew she was faking, because I could see the way her lips were getting moist and trembling and the way her nostrils were flickering, and also the way her bubbies were heaving. She was a masochistic bitch who wanted to be forced, but the poor sap of a husband she had didn't know that. The trouble was, he might just come to Sally's defense and spoil all Mark Fontana's plans. But Mark was way ahead of him already.
"You know a fair exchange is no robbery, Jim old boy," he said. "I suggest you take Verna here and do to her what I'm about to do to your wife. And I wouldn't try to interfere, because I happen to have a Japanese manservant who's an expert in jiu jitsu and karate, and who could tear you limb from limb. Just relax and enjoy the whole affair, that's my advice to you. Verna, go over to him and make him happy."
I walked back to the couch, not without some misgivings. Jim Forrester was glaring at me, and all of a sudden he grabbed me and flung me across his lap. "I'll teach you to act like a slut to me, you naughty girl you," he shouted. His right leg clamped over my booted calves, his left arm grabbed my waist like a vise, and before I knew it, I was getting my heinie fantailed. He really hit hard, too, and I was yelling in a few minutes.
But so was Sally. Because Mark Fontana wasn't fucking her, he had opened up the cheeks of her well-striped, warmly caned bare ass and was gouging her bumhole with his prick, slowly pushing home inch by inch while she wriggled and moaned and shrieked for mercy.
But Kitty now grabbed her hair and twisted it with her fingers and forced her panting mouth right up against her cunt and hissed, "You better gam me good, Sally, or Mr.
Fontana will really take the skin off your tail with a whip."
Settled deeply within her bowels, Mark Fontana lay over her, his hands slipping under her to grab her bubbies and squeeze them. Then he began to bottomfuck her slowly, and finally in self-defense, Sally pressed her mouth against Kitty's cunt and began to gam her.
All this time, my hind end was getting really whacked, and there were real tears running down my cheeks, and I was trying to kick and to cover myself up with my gloved hands, but now he grabbed both my wrists with his left hand and kept on spanking all the harder.
I could also feel that his stiff cock was prodding against my tummy and that he was getting just as excited as his wife was. Because now she was starting to wriggle and grind herself against the whipping bench, and she was bucking back to answer Mark Fontana's deep prick thrusts inside her asshole. Kitty also was getting excited, judging from the way she wriggled herself and her titties were dancing in the air. Her eyes were gleaming and her lips were parted, and she was twisting her fingers in the short mannishly-bobbed auburn curls of that cute piece of tail-and I mean it was really a piece of tail for Mark Fontana!
Now I could see that he had slipped one hand under her tummy and I knew that he was frigging her clitoris. I knew it for sure when she started to wail and groan and gasp. "Oh darling, oh, that's so good, oh give it to me, oh rub it harder, I'm going to come, oh, it's so good. Oh Jim, why don't you do that to me, oh I need it so!"
She had an explosive climax and so did Mark Fontana. So a moment later, did Kitty. I still got my tail made hotter and hotter, and I thought he would never stop spanking me, and I was really crying for him to quit, and then all of a sudden he stopped. The next thing I knew, he pulled me to my feet, flung me down on the couch and fell right on top of me. His stiff cock burrowed right into my cunt and then he really began to fuck me. His mouth silenced mine and his hands went under my ass and squeezed. I wrapped my booted legs around him and my arms too, and we went to town.
By now Mark Fontana had gotten up and was coming over to the couch to watch us. Standing there with his hands on his hips, he puffed at his cigar and smiled triumphantly. It was another "stag" film par excellence which he would be able to show the members of the Phoenix Club.
When at last Jim Forrester had fucked me until he had given up his all, Mark tapped him on the shoulder and chuckled, "I think that rather makes us even now, Jim boy. You're still going to get your bonus, and if you remember what you've seen and done tonight, and apply it to your own very charming and passionate wife, you'll be a very happy young husband, I give you my word."
Jim Forrester looked properly sheepish. He did, however, go over to the bench and bend down and pat Sally on the head and ask her forgiveness, and she giggled and said, "You big silly, I want to be handled rough sometimes, and dear Mark knows just how to do it."
However, she was being just a little too flippant, so Mark had me walk over there and give her a good handspanking and that really made her cry and beg for mercy. He told her that he was never to be addressed by his first name and certainly not by an employee's wife.
So all was well that ended well and we finally were allowed to go back to bed, but this time I had my own room and so did Kitty. It was just as well. I was thoroughly honked out and besides I wanted to get my burning tail under a cold shower and then rub some cold cream in and lie on my stomach and try to get some sleep, which I finally did.
CHAPTER NINE
Sunday afternoon, well after brunch, I saw Eugenia back in the barrel again, and this time with Sally Forrester.
Eugenia began by serving us brunch, and she looked very tearful and red-faced when she came out to the table because all she had on were highheeled pumps, a kind of silver-net bra that was really only about half a bra and covered her titties from her nipples on down and happened to be transparent anyway, and an elaborate silver-sequined G-string. So her big naked ass was in plain display and just about everything she had, and everybody could see that she had been spanked not too long ago. The angry redness had faded, but there was still a very interesting pink all over the cheeks which quivered and jiggled when she walked. Most of the time, though, she was kneeling to serve us all. Even Jim Forrester was goggly-eyed as he stared down at her when she offered up bacon and English muffins nicely toasted and an omelet with mushrooms, and poured his coffee. So Mark Fontana thought he would have some fun at Jim's expense and ordered Eugenia to crawl between Jim's legs, open his zipper, and start his day by giving him a good Frenching.
She sniffled and groaned, but she obeyed just the same. She didn't want any repetition of that strapping Kitty had given her, that was for sure. As for Jim, he got so red in the face, I knew he wanted to sink through the floor because his wife was watching him very intently. Once in a while she would even bend her head down and peer under the table to see just how Eugenia was going about taking care of his hard-on.
But this informal method of hospitality did one good thing and that was to make Jim Forrester less jealous and annoyed at what was being done to his own gorgeous auburn-haired wife. She looked very much like a dyke with that mannish hairdo, but there wasn't any doubt about her being all woman. All she had found in her room when she had got up to dress and come to brunch-and that of course was done by Enid at Mark Fontana's order-was a kind of tunic made of blue satin which had a couple of buckling clasps at the waist and a sort of elastic sewn at the top of the hem, so it sort of clung to her. At that, it showed off half her bubbies and went down just below her cunt. Then of course she had a pair of open-toed red leather sandals with high heels. So she really looked lush, with that sleek tawny skin of hers.
After we had relaxed a little after brunch, and Mark had smoked at least one cigar, he commanded Eugenia and Sally to follow him, and he didn't come back for quite some time. When he did, he was naked, and his cock was limp, so I gathered that both girls had had to do some work on him. Jim Forrester stared at him and turned red as a beet again. He really looked cute, with his glasses and his blushes. But I think he was getting the general drift of things, because he was staring very hungrily at both Kitty and me. And so what happened was that I was ordered to lie on top of him and put his prick into my pussy and slide up and down while he lay on his back with his hands under his head and Kitty knelt across his face so he could gam her. He was a little reluctant to do that, but he soon got into the spirit of things when I started wriggling and shaking my kinetta and he began to feel the urge of nature. He was a thoroughly reconverted young man by the time we both finished with him, because after he had gammed Kitty and shot off in me, we changed places and it was his turn to gam me while Kitty hosed herself with his ramrod.
Then, at Mark's invitation which was practically a command, of course, we went along to the dungeon where Eugenia and Sally had been left. They were tied with their legs straddled to a metal isosceles triangle, their wrists tied high above at the peak, and a cord around their waists. They were also blindfolded, and they were squirming around in discomfort. They hadn't been spanked, but as Mark Fontana explained, they had been given a rather uncomfortable ordeal. He had a friend who was a pretty good chemist, it appeared, and this chemist had furnished him with several huge jars full of a special kind of perfumed itching powder. I mean, it looked like Houbigant's Chantilly in a lovely pink box and everything, but when you put it on with a puff, the skin starts to prickle and itch and get of very quickly afterwards. And he apparently had powdered their titties, tummies, pussies, the insides of their thighs as well as their chests, so that they were rubbing each other back and forth and whimpering and groaning and it looked as if they were really cunt rubbing like a couple of dykes.
The minute Jim saw his gorgeous wife tied like that to Eugenia, I could see his prick get awfully hard. He was wearing a pair of linen slacks and a sport shirt, sandals, and nothing else. Everything had been laid out for the guests on this particular morning by Edna, who ad had her orders right from the master of the house himself. So I could see that he was excited right off.
Mark asked him if he would like to take advantage of the two girls by giving them each a spanking until one of them came, and then buggering the loser. For an innocent young bridegroom who seemed to be the very last word in Puritanism, Jim Forrester had really changed his image in short order. He gasped, then let out a silly giggle and nodded. He was given his choice of all the instruments on the wall, and after long deliberation, during which time you can well imagine his two naked victims groaning and sobbing and watching him with widened, anxious eyes, he picked a kind of battledore paddle, round with a very short handle, which practically covered a single asscheek in one blow. It was light and springy, but if you used the full force of your hand and let it fly against bare butt flesh, the girl would feel it, believe you me.
He started on Eugenia, and he enthusiastically gave her about ten, equally distributed, which made her yell and wriggle frantically. Then he turned his attention to his own beautiful wife. She looked back over her shoulder and tearfully begged him not to hit her too hard, and she let out a couple of wild yowls when the paddle smacked her firm tawny-sheened ass cheeks. It was her turn to wriggle and grind herself against the sobbing widow, and pretty soon both young women were repeating their act of pussy rubbing for the amusement of all of us.
"I think by now, Jim, you ought to know when a girl is coming," Mark Fontana chuckled. "Do you?"
"Not-not exactly, Mr. Fontana," the bespectacled young bridegroom faltered, and again he put on the deepest blush I'd ever seen in a man.
"Well, when they start squealing, and then they jerk around uncontrollably you can pretty well be sure that they've had it. You can also put a finger into their pussies and find out just how moist and hot they are," the master told him. "Now go ahead and spank them some more and remember that you get to brown hole the loser."
Jim Forrester really went at it enthusiastically. This time, he started on his own wife again, who would just as soon have had him go back over to Eugenia, since she had had the last ten swats. This time, she got about twenty more, ten to each bottom cheek, and she howled and yelled and wriggled frantically. The itching powder was doing its work, too. By now, tears were rolling down both women's cheeks, and they were rubbing together as if they were out in the Arctic with a fifty-mile-an-hour wind blowing. They were really trying to get warm. Then all of a sudden Sally uttered a shriek and then seemed to sag forward, her head on Eugenia's shoulder.
"That, young man, is what we call a come, or an orgasm," Mark Fontana said as if he were a teacher lecturing before a class. "That means you get to brown Eugenia. Go to it and don't spare the horses!"
"Oh please no, oh master, don't let him do that to me, oh it hurts so much, oh this awful stuff on me is making me just die, please master," Eugenia wailed.
Jim Forrester went up to her, dragged down his zipper and showed a lot of lack of inhibition as he pulled out his stiff cock. Then he took the paddle and gave Eugenia about ten more whacks and she really felt them and she yelled and begged for mercy. Her behind was a very flaming red by now, and when he dropped the paddle and grabbed those red cheeks and yawned them open and stuck his cock against her bumhole, she really lunged against shivering Sally. Between wails and pleas for mercy, she wriggled and twisted so frantically when she felt his harpoon sink into her asshole that I was almost sure that she was going to make Sally come again if she didn't do it to herself.
All things, considered, it was a thoroughly eventful weekend. About eight o'clock, Lisa and Weldon Thomas came back to reclaim me, and they brought back Amy and Ruth, whose reddened and swollen eyes indicated that they had had ample reason to cry. I was sure that Lisa had shown them her latest spanking technique. She had a sultry, satisfied look and her lips were moist, and her nostrils were quivering. She was almost sorry to give them back to Mark Fontana, it was plain to see.
CHAPTER TEN
The next week was pretty uneventful until of course Friday, when the big club meeting was to take place over at the Mertons. Apart from one or two playful spankings in the morning when she came to wake me up, "Mama Lisa" treated me very nicely, and so did Weldon. They had had good reports about me from Mark Fontana, and since they wanted to stay on his good side, they thought that I had helped them cement the relationship. They made a big fuss over me, and apart from Weldon's calling me to bed with him that next Monday night and giving me a long, hard fucking, I really had a pretty easy week of it.
For the Mertons, however, I was dressed up fit to kill. Lisa brought out a dress box and opened it and gushed and cooed over how beautiful it was, and it really was. It was a glittering red dress with sequins, with a very naughty low cut in front and one at the back practically down to my chink bone. I was supposed to wear smoke-colored nylon hose with it, with tiny little purple rosette garters which helped hold the stockings up almost at my crotch, no undies and nothing else except my high-heeled pumps. I looked like a grown young lady, and Lisa combed my hair tenderly and sprayed a little perfume on it and then reached round in front of me and squeezed my bubbies as she kissed my nape and whispered, "Now you be an awfully good girl tonight, and don't you dare open your mouth unless you're spoken to, because we have a lot of important people coming."
Way at the end of the Murton's basement in their big house, they had a sort of auditorium, in miniature. There was a platform and stage, and about forty comfortable loge seats, nicely upholstered. Kitty and I and Enid and Amy and Ruth acted as both usherettes and servers of refreshments. The Murtons were there, of course, and so were the Dennisons, and of course my foster parents, and Henrietta Chapman and her slavegirl seated next to her and looking very cowed and fearful. It reminded me that the next Friday I would probably have to spend over at Henrietta's, and that was a prospect I wasn't looking forward to one little bit.
But there were also about ten more couples I had never seen before, and two or three single men with white hair and suits that must have cost at least three or four hundred bucks just for the tailoring and the design. I mean, they were really heeled. They had diamond rings on, and important looks, and they looked well-fed besides, and they had thick wallets, because I know that they brought them out and compared.
The stage was covered with a black curtain which was drawn as soon as Bebe Murton went up and took the microphone at the little podium right at the head of the stage and on a sort of tiny runway. She welcomed everybody in the Phoenix Club, and then she cited the important guests, but only by their first names. Also, all these couples wore masks, the black Venetian face-mask type, so that none of us would know who they were.
When the curtain was finally drawn back, you could see a whipping post, a huge rectangular sandbox such as kids might play in, and a leather-padded footstool with buckling straps. They brought out two really gorgeous young girls, probably around seventeen or eighteen, one a redhead and the other a sandy-haired blonde, made them take off all their clothes and then put them in the sandbox after blindfolding them and tying one hand behind their backs. Each girl was given a long carriage whip and was told to try to make her rival yell uncle. The redhead won, amid thunderous applause. The blonde was taken to the spanking stool, draped over it, and left there while they went on with the other acts. Then the redhead was auctioned off and a couple in the front row, who looked to be in their late forties, won her with a bid of about four thousand bucks. Her name was Selma and she came from Los Angeles.
Next they had a masked couple up on the stage, and the husband was mad at his wife because she had shown a few inhibitions, particularly about Frenching. He himself was a new member of the Phoenix Club, and his wife was on probation. They had been married just eight months, and he wasn't happy with her at all.
She was tied to the whipping post, blindfolded, and then her clothes were pulled up and her panties down and a young Negress of about twenty named Vilma came up and gave her a good sound spanking with her gloved hand and then took a hairbrush to her for about thirty swats. By the end of that time, the wife was screaming that she would do just anything that was required of her.
They knelt her down and tied her hands behind her, and then they called every man in the audience in turn up on the stage. The naked wife had to suck off every single man, and it took about an hour and a half before everybody was finished. During the time, to enliven the proceedings, the sandy-haired blonde received a good paddling with a leather paddle from Bebe Murton herself, and she was dressed like a master of ceremonies or a ringmaster at a circus with a top hat and tails and boots, and she certainly looked very provocative and efficient. And boy, could she use that paddle! I winced every time it crashed against the poor blonde's wriggling bare ass!
After it was over, the blonde was auctioned off for two thousand dollars to still another masked couple, but this a rather young one in their early thirties from what I gathered and also from what I could see of their faces that weren't covered by the masks and their general appearance. Then Eugenia was brought up on the stage wearing just black leather boots and shoulder-length gloves, and she had to gamahuch the sobbing wife who had had to French all the men.
Each woman was threatened with a good sound spanking if she didn't come, and under that threat, both of them climaxed.
It was quite a successful and profitable evening. The money raised from the sale of those two slavegirls was to be donated to the Phoenix Club for "special expenses."
And so I went back home with my foster parents, and all I could think about was the next Friday when I would have to go to Henrietta Chapman's.
But in a strange sort of way, I was really looking forward to it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I guess Mark Fontana must have given my foster parents pretty good accounts of my conduct for the weekend I'd spent with him, because Lisa and Weldon Thomas were as sweet as pie to me all that week. Of course, that didn't make me feel any happier as the next Friday grew closer, because I knew I set for a session with Henrietta Chapman, that husky bull dagger who just loved to screw girls with an artificial cock strapped onto her.
Meanwhile, Lisa told me very confidentially that she'd made Mark an offer for Edna, and that I might just have a "cute little sister" to pal around with in a couple of weeks. Weldon said he was going into San Francisco on Thursday, but he didn't mention why, nor did I expect him to confide in me. However, I could guess that Henrietta Chapman didn't intend to trade any of her love slaves permanently for me, because she didn't like men at all and figured that even lending her trained "nieces" to a household where men would screw them would ruin their value for her when bedtime rolled around.
So it was Lisa who drove me to Henrietta's house at the other end of Oakdale, which is about an hour's ride or less from San Diego and yet, till now, the whole wide world for yours truly. Henrietta had a very imposing house, a colonial type with big wide porches, pillars and a portico, neatly cropped hedges and a big rolling lawn up to the house, with big iron gates surrounding it and the garden behind it on all four sides. She was really in the chips, you could tell just looking at her house.
Strangely enough, she'd told Lisa she wanted me to wear grownup clothes, regular dress and lingerie, stockings and pumps, and that's the way I went there. When Lisa rang the front-door bell, who should answer but olive-skinned, black-haired Sally, the girl Henrietta had bought from Mark. She had a sort of snippy face, big round titties, and she thought she was the cat's meow-or did till Henrietta had got hold of her. Because the girl who opened the door was now the meekest maid-slave you ever saw. She had a lace cap on top of her head, and a white apron, and she also wore a silly little red dress which came down to about her crotch, and opera-length black mesh stockings with red leather high-heeled pumps. The way the dress clung to her, I guessed she didn't have much on under it, and I was right.
Henrietta was in a negligee made of faille and green-colored, and blue mules. She was smoking a cigarette in a long ivory holder, and she was lounging on the couch when Sally brought me to meet her. Lisa rushed up to her and kissed her and fawned all over, while I lowered my eyes to the floor and kept my mouth shut. I glanced at Sally and I saw that she was standing there waiting for orders. From the look of respect and fear she gave Henrietta Chapman, I could very well guess that her life hadn't been a bed of roses since coming to this particular house. And almost as soon as Lisa was gone, I found out that I was right again.
"So nice to see you, darling," Henrietta purred as she beckoned for me to come and kneel before her. "Mark tells me you are very talented, very cooperative. I like that. We're going to have a nice quiet weekend with no fuss and feathers, no guests. Just the three of us. Or rather," this time she gave Sally a really dirty look, "or rather, just the two of us, because Sally has been an awfully naughty girl in front of me. Just sit down there on that heavy straight backed chair, the one near the bookcase, and make Sally crawl on all fours over to you and spank her good and hard. There's a little table there by the chair, and you'll find a hairbrush and a strap and a ruler, and a few other things you might like to try on her."
"Oh please, mistress, please, I didn't mean to argue. I wanted to please, truly I did," Sally groaned.
"Hush your mouth, you saucy little bitch!" Henrietta jeered at her. "Go on, Verna dear, and be sure to make her cry," she told me with a cruel smile.
I walked over to the chair and sat down. Sally, still sniffling, gave Henrietta Chapman a tearful, prayerful look, but it didn't do her any good at all.
"If you don't get down on your knees and start coming over there by the time I count five, Sally," the Amazonian Lesbian hissed, "I'll take you downstairs and tie you up and then let Verna really go to work on you!"
Seeing there was no hope for it, Sally slowly got down on all fours and began to crawl towards me. When she reached me, I nodded and she miserably rose, her face a study in despair and shame; and draped herself over my lap.
"Go ahead, Verna dear. Let me see just how you operate," she called to me as she lay on the couch, smoking a cigarette and putting the ashes into a little silver dish beside her.
I hoisted up Sally's skirt and rucked it up around her shoulders. I really didn't need to do it, for Sally had rucked up her skirt earlier. She had no pants on, and all that kept her practically crotch-length black mesh hose up were her tight red satin-elastic rose-colored filters. She didn't have a bra on, either, and er olive-sheened plump bottom cheeks wriggled and squirmed as she began to cry softly. I rolled the dress neatly to a little above the middle of her back, and then tucked her in with my left arm. The little table was at my right, and I looked over the display and decided on the good old-fashioned hairbrush. I wanted one of the black wooden kind with the round applicators. Sally was looking back, too, and she began to cry softly as I picked it up.
"That's the way, Verna," Henrietta Chapman approved. "Give her a good one and don't spare her any. She'll learn to treat me with respect if it's the last thing I do."
"Sorry, Sally, but I have to," I whispered. It didn't console her any, because she was already feeling ashamed enough in being forced to take this humiliating pose, and stick her bare bottom up to be spanked like a naughty little child, by a girl much younger than herself. But she soon forgot her shame when the hairbrush landed solidly and with a noisy crack on the ripest curve of her left bottom cheek. Wailing, she kicked up first one leg and then the other. I saw that she was going to be doing a lot of moving around, so I clipped my right leg out from under her and clamped it around her calves.
"That's very good, Verna," Henrietta Chapman approved.
So I went to work on Sally's big ass. I didn't try any fancy tricks. I just hit first one cheek and then the other, and I spaced them out, but by the time I had landed about twenty, Sally was forgetting all about her mistress and was turning her face back to me, begging that I not spank her so hard, and she would be a good girl and obey. That didn't set very well with Henrietta, though, as you can imagine. Sally was forgetting her place and that Henrietta was her mistress, not me, and if there was any pardon to be given it would be by herself. When I finished fifty spanks, she brought me a ruler and told me to take it and give Sally another good hard ten. She was practically hysterical by now, and her bottom was blazing and pitifully swollen. She tried to get away several times, but I grabbed both her wrists in my left hand and held them that way until the spanking was over.
Then she was ordered to take off the dress entirely, to kneel down and thank me for having punished her so well, and then Henrietta continued, "Now if you want to show your gratitude, Sally, you just go ahead and gam Verna to reward her for the treat she gave me punishing you, you nasty little bitch!"
Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. Sally pulled up my dress and slip, lowered my panties, and then pressed her mouth against my muff and began to gam me very expertly. Her tongue came into play, and before I knew it, she was rubbing my tickler so expertly and deliciously that I practically fainted, and I had a terrific come.
Henrietta then urged me to take off everything but my garterbelt and hose and pumps. Then she led the way into the dining room where her fat Negress cook, Lucinda, waddled out with a late snack for all of us. Henrietta ate like a horse, and she drank a lot of wine. I could see that she was getting more and more excited. The food was awfully good, though. Some sweet-potato pancakes, cold Virginia ham glazed in raisin and orange sauces, some salad, hot biscuits with honey, and a Southern pecan pie which Lucinda had baked herself and which was very yummy.
After the meal, Henrietta said to me, "You know, darling, I've wanted to have you for a long time, ever since I first saw you. But I want to spank you and I want to make you come while I'm spanking you. Are you going to be a good girl and let me do it?"
"Of course, mistress," I said at once.
Sally, who had been permitted to sit with a cushion under her bare ass at the table, gave me a malicious look. I knew what she was doing-she was thinking that some day she would pay me back in kind.
After Henrietta had another cigarette and had another cup of coffee to brighten her up, she led the way down into the cellar of her ornate house. There were a couple of metal doors which, I knew, opened onto dungeons and torture chambers. All the members of the Phoenix Club had rooms like that so they could cultivate their hobbies.
The room Sally and I went into wasn't very big, but what was in there gave me plenty of food for thought. She had a sawhorse with an awfully sharp ridge, and there was the usual padded whipping stool, and in the center of the room was a round metal post with a kind of tray on top. I was to find out what this was right away.
Henrietta touched a button on the wall and the post sank down into the floor until it was only about two feet tall. I was told to lie down across it with my face to the floor. Next, with Henrietta holding me, my wrists and ankles were tied, each set of cords being in turn tied to a ring set into a side of the wall. Then Henrietta pressed a button and I felt myself going up into the air, and all of a sudden I felt myself stretched like a living hammock, with my pussy pressing down into the little metal tray, and my tummy, too. I felt as if I were being stretched on a rack. The thing reached up to about Henrietta's waist and her big, husky body was quivering with impatience and lust, and what a thick black pussymuff she had, with a few gray hairs in it, too!
I didn't make any disparaging comments on Henrietta's build nor her muff or her age, not when I saw her come at me with a rubber flyswatter in her hand. She also had something else. It was a rubber dildo with curious little whorls along the top of the shaft and the head itself. She inserted this inside my bumhole, and I let out a yell as she shoved it in to the hilt. It was almost worse than when Mark Fontana had taken the maidenhead of my bumhole. But she hadn't finished with me yet. Next she produced a little glass tube which seemed to be divided into two sections with little balls of mercury. Deftly she shoved this into my cunt as far as it would go. It was like Mexican jumping beans, I swear to that.
I began to squirm and squeal, because I was feeling the friction of that cold glass and those things inside, and I swear I could actually feel them. I'm not at all sure what it was, unless it was that Japanese rin-o-tama Mark Fontana had once mentioned to Lisa when they were having dinner together.
Whatever it was, it made me feel itchy between my legs and the combination of that and the distension of my bumhole began to make me perspire and squirm with arousal.
Henrietta then pulled out a pair of black leather gloves, and came over and began to spank me hard. Tautly stretched as I was and with the two things stuffed in my holes, my sensitivities were really aroused. The warmth of each smack on my bare butt soon made me groan and squeal and wiggle, trying desperately to pull away from the ropes which held me out so tight. But the funny thing was that even though it hurt because she spanked hard and slowly, I began to feel the most maddening, itching, warm sticky feeling in my pussy that I had ever known, even when I used to frig myself back at the orphanage.
By the time she had finished spanking me, I had practically fainted with an even more terrific come than when Sally had gammed me. Henrietta was delighted with the results, and she told me I was a most accommodating little bitch and that she was very fond of me. She let me down, and then it was Sally who took my place. And I was allowed to spank Sally, who had already had a pretty good one, and she begged me for mercy, saying she would do just about anything. Henrietta laughed at her and called her a crybaby and told her that all I was going to do was spank her with my gloved hand. The catch was that Sally had to go on being spanked until she came, and even with the leather glove and the dildo up her asshole and the little glass tube up her cunt, it took a while. But at last she came, and oh boy, was her ass red and swollen when I finished!
Then, to punish Sally for being so impertinent during the week, Henrietta told her she would stay there all night, and then she took me to her fabulous bedroom. It was mirrored, the walls and ceiling alike, and she had an enormous double bed covered with red satin brocade. She pulled me down on top of her, and told me to give it to her. I pussy rubbed until I made her come, and she wound up the night by strapping on an ivory dildo and really fucking the hell out of me. I guess I fainted from that last come, because when I woke up, she was snoring, with one arm flung over my titties and her other hand pressed hard against my crotch.
It was quite a weekend. She was insatiable. She just couldn't get enough of me. When I woke up in the morning, I found her gamming me, kneeling between my legs and plunging her tongue deep in. Then I had to do the same for her, and after what she called brunch, we went back to the dungeon and untied poor Sally, who had really had a terrible night. Sally had to gam her with her tongue while she frigged me with her finger. Then she was told to go into the bathroom and take a shower and put on a cute little skintight red mesh leotard and high-heeled pumps.
We lounged around the rest of the afternoon, and Henrietta told some of the stories of love slaves she'd had before, and how she had dealt with them. She was hoping, she said, to buy some new slaves in a couple of weeks when Mark would have some new "nieces" already adopted and ready for divvying up among the members of the club.
That night she made Sally and me go at each other with dildos, and the girl who seemed to be the most passionate spent the night with her. I won that dubious honor, and I was really honked out by the time she finished with me.
Before Lisa came to get me Sunday night, I had to go over Henrietta's lap, bare-naked, and while Sally held my wrists and made me gam her, Henrietta spanked me hard with her gloved hand. Her other hand she kept buried between my thighs, steadily frigging me until I spent. The funny thing was that all the frigging and spanking really turned me on. I found myself yelling all sorts of naughty words and begging her to spank me harder. So she gave Lisa a glowing report of my conduct, and I went back to my foster parents.
After the weekend at Henrietta Chapman's I got the feeling that the members of the Phoenix Club were getting ready for something really big. As a matter-of-fact, though I had expected to be "rented out" the very next weekend, Lisa told me that I was going to have a nice vacation for about two weeks, and then all of us, which meant Weldon and herself, would go to the Dennison house for a really big shindig.
On the Thursday evening following my return from the sojourn with Henrietta, I just by accident happened to be passing Weldon's bedroom door on my way to the kitchen when I heard them talking together in what seemed to be a very worried tone of voice. Lisa was saying, "We've got to be awfully careful now, Weldon dear. Mark is a little anxious himself, because something seems to be leaking out. I don't know how it could possibly happen."
"It certainly isn't our Verna," Weldon replied, and I breathed a little easier at that one.
"Of course it isn't. She really doesn't know all that's going on. Even what Mark told her is only the skimming off the top. Naturally, he wouldn't tell her the whole business. But the problem is that Mark is afraid somebody may be snooping around this area, somebody connected with the law."
"Good God!" Weldon ejaculated angrily. "That's all we need right now. But I wonder who the devil could have let anything out about the Phoenix Club so that it would get into the hands of outsiders or the authorities?"
"We're all going to have to be awfully careful from now on, that's the long and short of it, Weldon. That's why Mark called off our little parties for this weekend. Next week we're going over to the Dennisons, and we're going to have some of the out-of-town amateurs who want to belong. We do need more money to keep this operation running safely, you know, because a few people's hands are being greased along the line."
I held very still to listen.
"Especially at the orphanages."
"Exactly," my foster mother at once retorted. "Maybe that's where the trouble is.
Maybe one of the orphanage superintendents or matrons has gotten just a little too greedy and has decided to blow the whistle. We might even have to change our venue and go into hiding."
"Dammit! Just when I was looking forward to buying a couple of new slaves," I heard my foster father say.
I thought that was enough to listen to, because I could be caught at any moment if somebody came out of the room. So I kept on to the kitchen and got a glass of milk and a piece of pie, and it was just as well that I was in there and looking very innocent, eating my pie, because Lisa herself walked in a few seconds later. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and then she affected a very sweet smile.
"Why, darling, raiding the icebox at your age!" she giggled. She was wearing just a shortie nightie of black nylon, and it snowed everything she had. She came over to me and put her arms around my shoulders, leaned down and French-kissed me. "You're such a darling," she cooed. "I'm awfully fond of you. Of course, we might have to send you to stay for a little while with one of our friends, but it wouldn't be permanent."
Of course I had brains enough not to ask her if that was because of the troubles they were having right now. I just said I'd do anything she wanted me to, and she went off to bed with Weldon. Once in a while they did fuck, because after all, they were man and wife.
Anyway, the next week Weldon himself took me to bed, with Lisa joining us. He made the two of us do sixty-nine and pussy-rub first, then he pulled me off Lisa and gave me a real humping while I lay on my back. Lisa encouraged him, and me, too, by kneeling right beside us and giving me instructions on how to make him happier while she goosed him, while with her other hand she reached out and squeezed one of my titties.
Just one big happy family, but there were clouds gathering on the horizon, you might say. I found that out Friday night, when Lisa and Weldon drove me over to the Denison's house.
We met in a small auditorium in one end of that great cellar, a place I hadn't been in before. It was much like the Murton's place with a platform and stage and everything, and comfortable large seats. Mark Fontana was there, so were the Murtons, so was Henrietta Chapman, and so were about fifteen other couples, men and women, all masked, and very handsomely dressed. Mark Fontana got up and said that he didn't want to make any of us uneasy, but for the next few weeks it would be just as well if we limited our meetings in the area to a fortnightly affair. Then a tall man with gray hair in the front row got up and asked, "Get to the point, Mark. What do you think is happening? Can any of us help?"
"I don't think so, Bruce. All of us know that our adopted girls never get a chance to talk to strangers, and we all know that we as members are quite reasonably discreet. I just happened to be in San Francisco recently and I have a good friend to whom I throw a little business now and then and fix up with a girl when he is need of one, and he tells me that the vice squad is doing some work in the Southern California area, and hunting down a syndicate or a ring. And he happened to mention the name of Dan MacGregor, you all know him, that big multimillionaire sportsman who has a couple of yachts and lives in La Jolla. He was picked up on a charge of contributing to the delinquency of a minor."
"But he isn't one of our members," the grey-haired masked man called out.
"That's true. But he knows several of us, and the sixteen-year-old girl who was living with him when they made a raid with a warrant on his place happened to come out of an orphanage. She isn't one of our girls, but there's an unfortunate connection there to lead the authorities to do some investigating. We've got about ten reliable orphanages we can count on and that we pay off on a good retainer basis, as you all know. That's why our dues are so damned high."
"Maybe we ought to call a halt to the operation for a couple of months, until we can be sure this has blown over," the masked man suggested.
"I was coming to that. We're going to wait until next January and by then I will have my hacienda in Baia California built and ready. We're beyond the U.S. jurisdiction there, and some of our friends with yachts along the California coast can help transport our new nieces."
There was a ripple of amused laughter at this last. I found myself with Lisa and Weldon sitting at my left, and a very handsome man with black hair sitting at my right. He was giving me the eye all through this spiel. He had a nice little wavy moustache and wavy hair, too, but it wasn't greasied up with pomade, the way so many guys do. He was tall and wiry and he had big blue eyes. He was also smiling at me. I had put on a grown-up dress this time, but I did wear elbow-length red leather gloves and calf-high matching boots.
"Anyhow," Mark Fontana went on, "I've called you here tonight because, apart from our last current auction until at least January, as I have just said, we have found one truly unappreciative and ungrateful girl who, a niece to one of our best families, made the mistake of saying that she was going to go to the police because she didn't like the things we do here. We're going to teach her how we deal with would-be tattletales. And since the girl in question is the niece of our dear friend and highly esteemed member Lawrence Carleigh, I am going to let him and his charming wife Susan, inflict the punishment."
There was a pause and he left the stage, and then a couple in the second row got up. They were both masked, of course. The woman was buxom, brown-haired, with a very haughty face, wearing a silver lame evening gown which showed off half her big titties and was cut almost to her bottom at the back. Her husband was fat, short, with very sparse graying brown hair, and even the mask didn't hide the fact that he looked like a creep. I felt sorry for the poor girl, whoever she was. And then the curtain went up and the audience let out a gasp, myself included.
There was a girl stark naked there, hanging horizontally like a living hammock, her wrists and ankles tied with cords which fixed into rings at each side of the stage. Under her tummy was an upright metal pole, whose top was nothing less than a sharpened spike, so she had to keep herself tautly stretched and suck in her belly if she didn't want to get painfully pricked. She was blindfolded. She was about sixteen, a sandy-haired girl of about medium height, with a perfectly gorgeous bottom, big, firm, upstandingly rounded cheeks, very sexily rounded calves. She had big boobies, to, and a nice pink skin.
"This, ladies and gentlemen," Susan Carleigh announced in an autocratic voice, "is Marjorie. She's been our niece for six months, and we've treated her just as all of you treat your little waifs. She has a good home, plenty of good clothes, a lovely room with even a TV set and a radio, and she has every reason to be grateful. Last week, my husband caught her writing a note to the police, and she even had the envelope all made out. She was going to try to sneak it out of the house. We were going to punish her then and there, but my husband suggested that perhaps you would all prefer to witness her punishment. When it is concluded this evening, we are ready to sell her at a very low price as a slave-bitch to any of you who cares to buy her."
Again there was applause, and the girl began to sob and plead for mercy, but of course it wasn't going to do any good. The buxom masked woman went to a tabouret on the floor of the stage at the foreground, opened it and took out pair of very scratchy horsehair gloves. I mean, the horsehair lining was on the outside instead of the inside. She put them on, and then she went over and began to massage the pleading, writhing young blonde, starting with her titties and her belly, then working over her inner thighs. Marjorie screamed and twisted and wriggled frantically, but every so often she grazed her tummy against that horrid spike. Then the woman started on her bottom and thighs and calves, just massaging, so that the grossly coarse horsehair left all sorts of markings and must have been awfully uncomfortable. When she had finished, her husband stepped forward with an oval-shaped paddle, and proceeded to apply thirty spanks across those woefully discolored bottom cheeks. Marjorie shrieked her head off, and once or twice her tummy came in contact with the spike, and when it was over, I could see a little blood oozing down onto the floor. Her body was shuddering violently, her muscles flexing spasmodically, and she was really in bad shape.
Then the woman proposed that every man in the audience came up and be Frenched by Marjorie, and just to make sure that Marjorie wouldn't try any tricks, she took a little pair of of pincers and applied them to Marjorie's pussylips and gave them a little pinch which made the girl shriek.
"Now then, dear," she said sarcastically, "if you have any notions of trying to bite, or to spit out the good spunk you're going to get from all these fine gentlemen, I'll see that you never forget what I'm going to do to you."
It took about an hour for Marjorie to finish servicing all the men present, and each man shot directly into her mouth. She was practically fainting, and gagging and retching. I felt awfully sorry for her.
Then the woman touched a button at the base of the post-spike, and it lowered back into the floor, out of sight. Next, her husband auctioned Marjorie off, and to my amazement, the man next to me raised his hand and offered a thousand dollars. I thought she could have brought a lot more, but I guess the members didn't want a traitress in their midst. So he got her.
She was untied, he went up on stage, and she was made to kneel and kiss his hand and promise she would be a good slave. The man was introduced by Mark Fontana as Richard Darden, from San Diego, and a good friend of a publisher of naughty books in that town, and quite wealthy in his own right. He had a reputation as a playboy and he had inherited a lot of money.
Then he made a gesture, and it went over big with the members. He said that he was going to contribute Marjorie as a gift to anyone who wanted her, if he could have the pleasure of enjoying one of the more loyal and talented nieces. And what happened next left me gasping, because Lisa got up and sweetly offered me, as proof that most of the nieces in the Phoenix Club were very lovely and very talented. So that's how I met Richard Darden.
Weldon and Lisa themselves put in a bid for Marjorie and took her home with them, and Mark Fontana made me kneel in front of Richard Darden and promise to be a good girl for as long as he wanted me. Mark praised my capabilities highly, from first-hand experience, and so about an hour later I found myself riding in an Impala, right next to my new master.
He drove me all the way to San Diego, to a new high-rise apartment, on the twentieth floor. As soon as we got inside the living room, he turned to me and said, "I want you to trust me, Verna. I'm going to help you. But I have to be sure that you won't betray me."
I did a sort of double take when Richard Darden started my slavery-because that's what I expected it to be-by asking for my help and trust. I stared at him, and then I repeated, "Betray you, master?"
He had taken off his mask, and he was a really handsome guy. He was about thirty-five, with curly brown hair, with not a touch of gray to it, regular features, a strong chin and firm mouth. His eyes were dark blue and quite intense, and he was staring at me as if he were looking me over for fucking purposes, so I waited for him to give me the lowdown.
"That's exactly right, Verna. I'm going to take a chance on you. And you've got to take one on me, too. Sit down there on the couch. Can I maybe get you a glass of milk and some cookies or something?"
I felt like telling him I was a big girl now, and I could stand something considerably stronger. Especially after what I had seen at the Dennisons' tonight. So I hesitantly said I would like some coffee. He said that was fine, he'd like some himself, and when he went out to the kitchen and came back with two cups on a tray and a plate of Nabisco sugar wafers. Then he sat down beside me. I took a sip of the coffee and it was good and strong. I smiled warmly at him, wanting to please him, and I said, "This is awfully good coffee, master."
"That's something else, Verna. While you're here, I don't want you to use that word to me again. I'm not your master. No man in this country is any girl's master, not the way your fine little club means it."
"But I don't understand-I thought you bought me-"
"Correction. In the first place, your charming foster parents, shall we say, traded you, shall we say, for that poor girl on the stage there who was being punished so cruelly. I own Marjorie, by the conditions your club sets for its members. I had to give her up to your foster parents because I wanted a chance to talk to you. I'm sorry about it, but I feel the way she was hurt tonight, the Thomases probably won't try their cruel little games with her for a couple of days until her wounds heal."
It was getting more and more mystifying. I didn't want to say anything one way or the other, so I just listened, which the superintendent of the orphanage taught me a long time ago was the best way.
"You came from the Oakdale Orphanage, didn't you, Verna?"
"Yes, I did. The Thomases adopted me as their foster daughter not quite a year ago," I said.
"That's what I thought. You see, I went over to talk to the superintendent of that orphanage some weeks ago during an investigation."
I looked at him, and I waited for an explanation.
"I suppose you wonder why I'm telling you all this when you think I'm a member of your Phoenix Club, Verna. In reality, I work for a private crime investigation commission, and quite a few others as well as myself have been on the trail of these people who call themselves the Phoenix Club for some little time now."
Well, my mouth just gaped and I stared at him. I didn't know what to think or say.
"I'll show you my credentials," he said to me. He took a wallet out of his coat pocket and showed me a shield, and when I read what it said, I could see that it had to do with the government and that it was for real.
"What do you want me to tell you, Mr. Darden?"
"It's just as well that you call me by that name, although you can see from my identification card, my name is really Richard Henderson," He said to me. "First, tell me how you became the niece of the Thomases. I know, you were adopted as a foster daughter, but in the Phoenix Club they always use the term niece."
"I ... I don't know," I said hesitantly. After all, I didn't want to get Lisa and Weldon Thomas into trouble, and yet I didn't want to fool with the law, either. I was just an innocent bystander. I mean, Lisa and Weldon had taken me out of the orphanage, and how was I possibly to know what they were mixed up in when they did it.
"Don't be afraid," he said in a gentle voice.
He put his arm around my waist, and somehow, although I knew it wasn't a sexy gesture, I got a thrill out of it. He was a sexy guy, and he was nice to me.
"Look, Verna," he went on, "I'm going to tell you a few things. I don't know how much you know or how much your foster parents have told you. But if you attended this meeting tonight at the Dennisons' house, you have a pretty good idea of some of the fun and games they have, haven't you?"
"I guess you could say so," I said, choosing my words carefully.
"All right, then. Let me give you a little history. This is all part of a very filthy racket, Verna, and so far it seems to be legal. Here's what happens. There are an awful lot of wealthy people who rely on their influence and money to get away with practically murder. They think that they can smuggle in drugs, engage in white slavery-anything that's illegal and makes a buck to give them pleasure, just to prove that they're above and beyond the law because they're who they are. All right. Now, there happens to be quite a group of influential people, quite wealthy, who manage to cover up their activities with business fronts or perhaps live in suburbs along the Southern California coast and seem to be quite respectable citizens from the outside, you follow me?"
"I guess so."
"All right. I'll tell you some more. That poor girl, Marjorie, I didn't want to turn her over to your foster parents, but if I hadn't done that, they might have suspected my motives in asking for you to have for a weekend while I'm practically a new member. I went right to Mark Fontana and asked as a special favor if I could spend a day or two with you. He wasn't so sure at first, and then I said I might buy the slave they were going to punish tonight, and that I would turn her over to the Thomases. He thought that might work, and as you can see, it did."
"I see. You mean, everybody knows about the Phoenix Club?" I hesitantly asked.
"I wouldn't say that exactly, Verna. We still have to get the goods on them. We have a lot of suspicions, and we think we are putting two and two together to make four. But until you can get up in a court of law and show it to the judge and jury, you haven't got a case. Now look. The orphanage you came out of is honestly run, and I couldn't expect to find a finer man in charge of it than your superintendent. He talked a good deal about you and what a fine girl you were."
"That was nice of him."
"Frankly, Verna, he was worried about you. There wasn't any reason why he shouldn't have let you out for adoption to the Thomases, because their background and references were quite in order. But it just so happens I've done some checking in the past two or three months, and I've found two or three orphanages where the superintendents and the matrons are just dying to make some money on the sly, even if it means selling decent girls like yourself into human bondage. Do you begin to get what I mean now?"
"Yes, sir. But I don't want to get them into trouble."
"You won't be getting them into trouble. I promise you, you won't be harmed in any way and you'll be fully protected. When this affair is all over and we can round up these dealers in human flesh, I'll find you a really decent foster home. Let's see, you're about seventeen, give or take a few months, aren't you?"
I nodded.
"Well, if you like, I can see that you get to go to school and maybe even get a part-time job so you can be on your own. It's a shame you've been corrupted by all this, but at least we can stop its going any further for you and for all those other girls they take out of the orphanages."
"Well, I do know that all of the people I've had to visit so far do have nieces," I said warily.
"Good! That's exactly the sort of information I need, Verna. I want you to give me the names of these people, and also the names of the girls. We'll do some checking and find out where the girls came from originally. There's one little orphanage in Encino which we suspect is in on the take, and it's a very profitable racket. A couple comes into an orphanage, shows all sorts of fine credentials, and walks away with an attractive girl. It's always a girl, and she's always attractive, and she's anywhere between fourteen and eighteen or nineteen. Then she disappears, and the superintendent can't even get in touch with her maybe a year later. And the foster parents claim that maybe they sent her to Europe or maybe this or that, and so far they've been able to avoid suspicion. Only, we just picked up a fellow in San Francisco on a charge of contributing to the delinquency of a minor. And we did a check on some of the people he knows, and it seems that he was a sort of go-between to the orphanage at Encino."
I took a deep breath and looked at him, because I still didn't know what to say. I began to understand that it was really a tremendous operation, and that I had really been a small part of it.
"Now start telling me what the Thomases did to you. How did you get over here? I mean, did you visit any of the other members and did they do any of this trading, such as I had to do with you and Marjorie tonight?" he went on.
I really didn't know where to start, but I was beginning to see that this whole thing was bigger than I was and that my feelings for the Thomases had no part of it at all. And I certainly hadn't liked the way that they'd treated that poor girl Marjorie on the stage tonight. So I began. I told him about visiting Mark Fontana and the Dennisons and the Murtons and how I had just visited Henrietta Chapman. He prompted me every so often, gave me a wry grin and told me not to worry about whether I had to talk dirty or not and not to be embarrassed about what I was describing, because it was all very helpful. One day, he said, I'd have to stand up in court and testify to all I had told him. But that was still a long way off.
"Do I have to go back to the Thomases, Mr. Henderson?" I asked him when it was all over.
"I'm afraid you do, my dear. And of course I'll get Marjorie back. But I'm going to spirit her back to San Francisco where she'll be interviewed by the head of our commission and kept in custody so that no harm can come to her until she is ready to testify as a material witness. In the meantime, you're to go on just the way you were-though it's a damned shame you have to live like a prostitute, because that's what these fine and fancy club members are making of all the girls they take out of orphanages. I wish I had them here for a couple of minutes, because I'd use some unorthodox measures to show them what I thought of them."
"But suppose they ask me about you, Mr. Henderson?"
"You just tell them that my name is Richard Darden, and that I was your master, and that I made you obey me. I'll also call them up when I'm ready to send you back and tell them I'm quite satisfied with you. Now I think it's time for you to go to bed and get some sleep."
"I do feel sort of tired," I confessed.
"No wonder," he said bitterly. "The best I can do is give you a pair of my pajamas, though they're much too big for you. And I'll sleep out here on the couch, it's got a nice view of the ocean, and you can have the bedroom. Lock yourself in."
"I don't think I have to do that, Mr. Henderson," I giggled. He got sort of red in the face, and then chuckled. I liked him an awful lot.
It didn't take me long to get to sleep. And then I had a dream. I dreamed that I was his slave, all right, and that he was taking me over his lap and spanking me on my bare heinie until I cried and I was promising to do everything he wanted, and then he let me up and said he was going to give me a chance to prove it. And then I saw myself going down on my knees and taking his cock out and sucking it until he couldn't stand it any more, and then he took me up in his strong arms and took me over to the bed and fucked me. It was such a realistic dream that my pussy got moist, because when I woke up and found myself in his big pajamas, the crotch was sort of moist, if you know what I mean.
He fixed breakfast for me-bacon and eggs and toast and honeydew melon, and I'll say he was a pretty good cook. I said he'd make some girl a good wife, and he laughed and said he was still a bachelor. He came from Eureka originally, and he'd played football there, and then he'd gone into private law practice for a while, and then somebody high in government circles had made him an offer to be a sort of undercover agent for illicit activities like smuggling and white slavery and stuff like that. He had this apartment in San Diego just so he could be around the area and close to members of the Phoenix Club.
So on this Saturday afternoon he drove me in his Impala all around San Diego, pointing out the historic spots and everything. Then we had dinner at the Ulysses Grant Grill, which was where I had first met Mark Fontana when my foster parents had first taken me there to be introduced to him so that I could make my first visit as a novice "niece" and get initiated into the Phoenix Club ways real fast.
When he brought me home, it was a lovely night, and I was really stuck on him. I mean, thinking bedtime thoughts about him. I wanted him to fuck me. I didn't know how to go about getting him to do it, but I knew one thing-I was sure going to try.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I finally figured it out that Saturday night. I couldn't get to sleep anyhow, so I got up and tiptoed out into the living room.
I began to tug away the blanket, very gently, so as not to wake him up. And I made the discovery that he didn't have a thing on under the blanket.
All of a sudden he rolled over onto his back and let out a deep sign. I thought he was going to wake up and catch me. I was able to pull it away, and there he was, all naked and manly. He was in fine condition. I went down on my knees, and then I leaned over him very carefully, and I began to blow against his cock. Then I gave it a kiss. Next thing I knew, it was standing at attention. I took hold of it very carefully with my left thumb and forefinger, and I was just about to open my mouth and Eve it a nice big kiss when all of a sudden he t out a yell: "For Christ's sake, Verna, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I ... I couldn't sleep, and I came in to see if you were still awake, Mr. Henderson," I faltered.
"Now just a minute, you little bar," he said. "Where did you learn that trick, anyhow? From your dear foster parents, or from some other member of the club?"
"From my foster father, if you have to know. And anyhow, why are you yelling at me? I ... I just wanted to be nice to you!" I started to sniffle.
"Aw, you poor kid, I'm sorry," he said gruffly. He sat down on the edge of the couch and said softly, "Do you want to sit down and talk about it?" Then he sort of did a double take. "For Christ's sake, Verna, go get the pajama tops and put them on fast. Do you think I'm a child ravager?"
"I wouldn't care if you were, Mr. Henderson. I want you to fuck me, anyway. And I think you ought to,"
"You want?" he barked. "What the hell did they do to you, you poor kid? Now go get something to put on over your ... your...."
"My titties?" I said innocently.
"Look, Verna, this isn't any time for games. Now you go back to bed and go to sleep or ... or...."
"Or what?" I finished for him teasingly.
"Or I'll spank you, so help me, I will!" he sounded exasperated.
"I wouldn't mind that at all. Do you want to do it now or later?" I said boldly.
He let out an oath and grabbed my bare shoulder. "Now look, baby, I'm a man and you're a female, but you happen to be under age, and if I touched you, I wouldn't be any better than the people I'm trying to round up and throw out of circulation. You don't have to play any tricks on me, because I'm on your side to start with."
"I don't want to play any tricks on you, Mr. Henderson, because I like you lots. Anyhow, you're supposed to be my master this week, aren't you? You're going to send me back to the Thomases next week, aren't you?"
"Well, yes, but what's that got to do with it?"
"A lot. You gave them Marjorie, and they're probably going to have some fun with her, and when I get back home, I know they're going to ask me what you did. And I'd better be able to tell them something, or they'll think it's awfully funny you had the whole weekend with me and didn't even lift a finger."
"There's something in what you say," he said at last in a rather husky, unsteady voice. "But I'm still not going to rape you, if that's what you want. You're a minor, and I happen to work for the government, and I'd be a fine, upstanding, decent citizen if I took advantage of you, even if you want it. Now get back to bed!"
"And if I don't? What then?" I pursued. Slyly I was untying my pajama bottoms.
"Then I'll spank you. And that I will do," he growled.
And that was the minute my pajama bottoms decided to let him see pussy.
"Why, you damn little teaser!" he snarled. Then all of a sudden he sat down on the couch and grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me down on his lap. I couldn't very well kick, because the pajama bottoms had twisted around my ankles now.
"I'm going to have to wind up this case sooner than I thought, young lady, to make sure you get a decent home and a proper upbringing. You don't go around offering your body to strange men, you know," he said in a very shaky voice. I could feel his left hand against my left side, and I got the funniest itchy feeling, and I was just about ready to be spanked real hard.
"All right, you asked for it!" he told me. "And I'm not going to let you off until you've really had a sound one, Verna. Then I'm going to put you back into bed and lock the door, so you don't try any more shenanigans. Remember, you've brought this on yourself!"
That was the only lecture he gave me. From then on, he concentrated on spanking my hind end until I thought it was on fire. He hit first one cheek and then the other, and he kept it up without pause, and pretty soon I was on fire.
"And if I don't? What then?" I pursued. "Oh stop ... please stop!"
I guess that did it. He put his hand down on my butt, and it felt wonderful.
"I'm sorry," he growled, "but you had it coming. Maybe they've taught you how to be a prostitute, but you're going to unlearn it, do you understand me? I'm not going to get tangled with a minor, even if you are the loveliest girl I've ever seen!"
"You ... you mean that, Mr. Henderson?" I sobbed.
"Damn it, yes! Now just keep it up, and I'll give you a second dose. I'm going to take you to bed."
With this, he picked me up and lifted me up in his arms with the pajama bottoms still tangled around my legs, and he carried me into the bedroom. I linked my arms around his neck, and just about as he was going to set me down on the bed, I gave him a real hot kiss. I jabbed my tongue between his lips and I hung onto him for dear life.
"Stop it ... cut it out ... are you asking for another one?" he panted.
That did it! He pushed me back on the bed and got into bed with me. "You teasing little bitch." His mouth crushed mine, I felt his prick prod against my pussy, and I spread my legs and then I clamped them over his ass and I held on for dear life while he found the hole. He began to pump me vigorously, and I moaned and sobbed and groaned because it was so good. His face was set, and he was grinding his teeth and he looked mad. He was driving me crazy. I wriggled my bottom because it was still hot and hurt from the spanking, and that made me all the randier.
I tightened my legs over his ass, and I put my tongue in between his lips, and I began to move up and down to meet his thrusts with my own urgent needs.
And now, all of a sudden, I could feel him explode inside of me, and he let out a cry, and buried his face in my heaving titties and I just cupped his face in my hands, and I felt ever so good.
I felt him pull out of me.
"I acted like a bastard! I ought to be shot!" he said, half to himself. "Now you go right to the bathroom and try to douche yourself or something. I mean it. I don't buy that story of pills altogether. Go on, or I'll spank you again, and this time it will be with my military hairbrush and you'll really feel it!"
"Yes, master," I whispered teasingly as I scrambled out of bed and hurried to the biffy. I was so in love with him it hurt. Now that he had given me this good hard fucking, I knew that I wanted more, I wanted all he could give me, even if I had to marry him. Or even if I didn't, for that matter.
Sunday we got a call from Lisa, who wanted to know if it was all right if she came by in the car and picked me up, and then she'd drop off Marjorie. He told her it was fine, and then he gave me some last-minute instructions.
First, he gave me a private line I could dial right into his office or his home, and it was an emergency number. All this week I was to act as if nothing had happened. I was to find out when was the next meeting and where. And I was to pick up anything I could from my "parents' " conversations about orphanages or stuff like that-anything that had to do with the Phoenix Club.
That night, Mark took me to his dungeon. He suspected both me and Richard. I tried to call Richard but they discovered me at the phone and began to punish me.
"She'll talk if I have to hold a lighted candle to her pussy and titties," Mark swore.
Edna was dragged in by two of the servants, both elderly women, and they put her in the pillory. Lisa went to work on her with a vengeance. She used the dog whip on the girl's legs until Edna was screaming hysterically that she'd do just anything but she didn't know anything else to tell them. Then she fainted from the pain.
But Weldon and Mark really worked me over. Weldon knelt down and pinched my nipples until I screamed from pain, and Mark was pinching my bottom and spanking it, and finally he held a lighted cigarette to my chink bone, and then I fainted again. When I came to, I was lying on a bed, and nobody else but Richard Henderson was looking down at me, looking awfully worried.
"Verna ... Verna ... are you all right?" he wanted to know.
"I ... guess so ... oh, it's you, oh Mr. Henderson, they were going to kill me, they were so mad at me ... they heard me phoning."
Finally it was over. Mark Fontana and the rest went to jail. I finally convinced Richard to marry me when I got out of school. At last, I was happy.
