This exciting new adult fiction novel A VIRGIN NO MORE by former newspaperman John Bonifacio is drawn right out of today's headlines. It is so timely in fact that we hasten to add that all of these characters are fictional and any resemblance between people in this book and persons living or dead is puraly coincidental.
This is a story of one young girl's awakening ... her sensual awakening, her political awakening. Caught up in the vicious maelstrom of today's silent insurrection, she is completely helpless against her own desires and the political zealots that do not hasten to use her.
The reader will be quick to draw parallels between Christina Kremer and several other young ladies in the news today, but we caution our audience to read between the lines for the true story.
Because this novel is so true to life, so graphic and realistic in its scenes of debauchery, we ask that you do not permit it to fall into the
hands of the immature or those who are easily offended. All others though, especially those who know adult fiction at its best, will find this book tremendously enjoyable.
Fresh, sparkling new titles in the Surrey Collectors' Series reach your favorite news dealer or adult bookstore at the same time every month. We will be there waiting for you, along with the Surrey Collectors' Series companions, the Rated X books and the HIS 69 gay titles. Serious collectors of strictly adult reading will want them all, side by side on their private bookshelves for definite re-reading and ready reference.
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All especially significant letters will be answered directly, and all story suggestions will be turned over to our staff of writers all over the world.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
Just south, and a little west, of Mt. Vernon, Ohio, is the tiny hamlet of Bangs. Population: about eighty-five. Movie theatres: one - a drive-in located about two miles outside of town on the only road leading in or out. Doctors: one, a Dr. Lawrence Kremer who also served the surrounding communities of Brandon, Mt. Liberty, and Lock. Dr. Kremer had lost his wife in a car accident, and had raised his daughter, Christina, alone. He was a dedicated father, but a more dedicated doctor; he was often away from home all night long, sometimes for many nights in a row on difficult cases. He had always trusted Tina take care of herself and the house while he was gone; he had had faith that she would always act wisely.
* * *
The screen was barely visible through the fogged windshield of Steve's new Chevy. Even with the engine running and the defrosters turned on full blast, the best that could be done was two small circles of semi-cleared glass. Tina sat forward in her seat, her head almost pressed against the windshield, trying to follow the action of the film. Steve sat back in his seat, not interested, idly playing with her long blonde hair and running his hands along her back. She didn't seem to notice.
The girl rubbed her hand across the glass, smearing it so that it became worse, then finally sat back in exasperation and turned to Steve. "Can't you do anything about that?" she asked.
"What would you suggest? We could break the glass. But I don't think the insurance company would understand."
She looked at the windshield again and twisted the defroster knob, checking again to make sure that it was on all the way. "Are all these new Vegas like this?"
"No. I bought the special low visibility model. It goes with the higher gas mileage."
"Steve." She laughed and leaned back in the seat, stretching. Her long, silky blonde hair cascaded back over the headrest, and her long legs extended out to the floor board in slender graceful curves. As she leaned back and reached over her head with her arms, her skirt slid up, exposing her firm young thighs. They were the most beautiful thighs Steve had ever seen; he was struck by that every time he saw them.
"Some girl you are anyway. Here it is my last night with you before I leave for the Navy, and you're worried about seeing a stupid movie."
"I just think that if we're going to pay to see a movie, we should see it."
"Yeah. Sure. Any excuse."
Tina leaned over and hugged him, pulling him against her and kissing him lightly beneath the temple. "You know I love you, Steve." She slipped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down onto her shoulder. She loved the feeling of his cheek against her chest, his breath flowing in through the spaces between the buttons of her blouse - warm and moist - his chin just touching the top of her breast. She could feel the stubble of his beard, even through her blouse and bra. She could smell the strong masculine scent of his hair which tickled her neck where it touched it.
Steve nestled in closer to her and pushed one arm through between her and the seat. With his other arm he reached around her and began to gently massage her hip. His hand pulled at the material of her skirt, making it slide across the thin nylon of her panty hose.
As his hand circled her hips, so softly and soothingly, the young girl felt a shiver run up her spine. She stirred, flexing her entire body and involuntarily thrusting her hips forward. Steve's hand increased its pressure, slipping around to the front of her hips and pushing firmly against her. She sighed and sank back down onto the seat. She hugged Steve tighter and began to kiss his ear lobe, nibbling at it gently while breathing softly into it.
On the far away and barely visible screen, some female movie star was writhing in the ecstasies of sexual intercourse. Emmanuelle. On the night before he was to leave for basic training, he wanted to arouse her, to make her break her long-standing vow to remain a virgin until she was married.
"X was never like this!" the ads had said, and he had kept after her for days, saying that this would be a last favor to him before he left, that it was something he had really wanted to do. Finally she had given in. After all, it was only a movie and what harm could a movie do? She had known that he would think it was a weakening of- her resolve and a chance to go further with her than she had let him go in the past. But he would find out. No one was going to make love to her before she was married.
But now, as Tina watched the woman on the screen reach out and grasp a man's body, pulling him onto her and wrapping her legs around his waist, Tina seemed worlds away from the telephone in her bedroom where she had been when she had agreed to come. She knew how it was done - she had seen some of her father's magazines when she was younger - but somehow, seeing it live and moving was much more affecting, even exciting, than she had ever thought it could be. The woman on the screen curled her legs high around the man's waist and dug her nails into his back. They were both moaning and moving with the age-old rhythm of sex. Tina rubbed her legs back and forth, trying to ease the strange sensation that tingled in her inner thighs.
The nylon stockings made a soft, rippling sound. They seemed to glide over the soft down of her thighs. Another shiver went along her spine. She tensed again, and again her hips thrust forward.
"I love you, Tina." Steve murmured. He slid one of his hands down her legs and began to caress her knee.
"Do you really? Do you really love me?"
"You know I do." He slipped his hand under her knee and began to caress the hollow there. She shifted from side to side and sighed with pleasure.
"But you won't forget me when you're in the Navy?"
"Not if you give me something to remember you by." He reached up and rubbed the top of her head, swirling her hair so that it fell in disarray over her face. Then he pushed it away with his face and kissed her deeply. He grabbed her and pulled her to him, kissing her harder and stronger with every second.
His lips parted and his tongue thrust forward, sliding back and forth over her full sensuous lips, probing lightly until she opened her mouth slightly, permitting his tongue to push in to meet hers. He reached behind her head and grabbed the back of her neck, holding her tightly against him so that she couldn't move. Then he turned his head perpendicular to hers and pressed his tongue all the way into her mouth and began thrusting in and out.
Tina moaned and leaned back, accepting his tongue deep into her mouth. It was so warm. So wet. It seemed to fill her whole mouth. It was like nothing else she had ever tasted or held. It was like some wonderful delicious food, and yet it was alive. She thought that there must be nothing like that sensation in the whole world; she loved to kiss.
Steve took his hand off her knee and began to massage her shoulder. Gradually he lowered his strokes, inch by inch, brushing over her collar bone, down onto her chest, and finally onto her already tingling breast itself. He began to caress it and squeeze her sensitive flesh, alternating one with the other so that his hands were always moving over her, always changing the way in which they were stimulating her, always twisting or tweaking or pulling or pressing so that soon her nipples stood out hard and firm. They grew rapidly, pushing up through her blouse and brassiere alike to form two little unmistakable peaks of excitement.
Steve fastened on one of them, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, then grabbing it and slowly pulling it out, drawing the entire breast out with it. Then he put his middle finger on it and pushed it deep into her chest, using it as a base from which to stroke in small circles along the inside of her breast. He switched to the other breast and did the same things, feeling her nipple grow just as large, just as hard, until it, too, felt as if it would become unattached - a tiny pebble he could chew and swallow. He heard Tina's rapid breathing in his ears, felt the convulsive tensings of her erotically trembling thighs and arms.
He ran his fingernails down the front of her body from her throat to her stomach. She moaned and seemed to melt in his arms, becoming soft like jelly, as she pressed herself against him until there wasn't an inch of room between them. When he felt her stomach, taut with excitement, press against him, he ground his thick rigid penis against her thigh. Christ, he thought. Surely she can feel me!
Eagerly now, he continued his downward motion with his hand: past her navel to her vaginal mound and then down into the valley between her legs. He stopped only when he reached her knees. A second later he raised one of them and drew it up across his own legs and then reached back down into the now open space between her thighs.
He softly stroked behind her knees, moving up along her legs, feeling the soft curve of her thighs. He slid along the silky material of her stockings, over her lithe slender legs. There was no fat, no blemish on her - just soft skin, gracefully curved and firm and flawless as the finest carved marble. He wrapped his hand around the lower part of her thigh and felt her muscles flex in excitement beneath him. Mentally he cursed himself for moving too fast because she tensed and both thighs clamped around his hand. Her grip was stronger than that of a wrestler. Yet, when he scraped his nails along her smooth skin, she shivered and rubbed her legs back and forth against his hand.
He bit into her neck, sucking at the tender, vulnerable throat that she offered him while he slid his hand back and under her buttocks, feeling the smooth curve of her ass-cheek, cupping his hand around the softly yielding flesh that molded itself to his fingers. Another wave of pleasure washed over her and he felt her tense again. Her skin pulled taut as she rocked back and forth, pulled taut and drew his hand down into the crevice between her cheeks. Even through the stockings and panties that she wore, he could feel that she was moist . . . and hot! Her wetness felt warm and slippery to his fingers as he pressed up against the moistness. She convulsed again and the flexing of her muscle drew him further in. She was tight and moist, with her powerful thighs and ass joining together to press his hand into the lips of her second mouth. Then she relaxed, permitting him to slide his hand up the furrow, along her secret flesh. The moaning young blonde shuddered and moaned as his fingers created a tingling path of desire up between her legs.
She dug her mouth into his neck, biting and sucking and licking him as he reached the top of her pantyhose and began to slide his fingers under it. He looked down and saw her thighs reflecting the dim light that was reflected through the now totally fogged windows. Her skin was translucent. It seemed to shine through the nylon pantyhose. As she rubbed her thighs together, her muscles rippled. While Steve watched, her skirt slid up farther, and he saw the white lace of her panties, the wet spot on the crotchband that spread out from the center of her cuntal lips. Around the edge were the cornsilk pussy hairs that marked the start of her pubic regions. Her panties were drawn tight around her, bulging over her pronounced vaginal lips. Further down the skimpy nylon garment was drawn up into her anal crevice. And then there was the wet sunken hollow that marked his target these many long months. He followed with his eyes over the bulge of her mound and into the slit, followed it deeper and deeper, as it got wetter and wetter, until it was finally lost in the shadows of her golden legs.
He plunged down in back with his hand, driving under the tight elastic waistband of her pantyhose, under the rim of her panties, sliding it down along the soft fleshy groove of her buttocks until it came to rest in the heated valley of her love - his outstretched middle finger spreading her outer lips and lying just at the entrance to her deepest mysteries.
With his other hand he began to undo the buttons of her blouse. He wrenched at them so that they would come loose, then tore at her brassiere so that he could wrap his hot hungry mouth around her naked breasts and suck at her while his hand caressed, her wetly clasping cunt.
Tina breathed in shallow gasps as she bit deeply into Steve's shoulder. She had never felt anything so fantastic before in her life. Her heart was pounding and blood raced through her head. She felt hot and breathless; her clothes seemed tight and binding - as if she were imprisoned by them. She wanted to tear them all off and feel the cool caresses of the autumn breeze on her naked body. She threw her head back and drank in deep breaths of fresh air, feeling her breasts swell and strain against her brassiere. Then her bra was being undone, and Steve's hand brushed it away. She was free at last. Open to the night air. And then she felt his moistly heated mouth close over her tingling flesh.
Involuntarily, she sighed and relaxed, and her legs spread even wider apart. She sank down into the seat and felt Steve's hand sliding deeper down inside the back of her panties and along her vagina. No one had ever been inside her pants before, and the sensation of it was so new, so thrilling, she could think of nothing else. She felt his finger gently stroking her, easing up and back along her wetly throbbing pussy.
She rocked in rhythm with his strokes, thrusting her hips forward as he advanced, pulling them slowly back as he retreated. Down and down he massaged, pushing deeper and deeper into her with every stroke. Without really knowing what she .was doing, she squeezed her thighs together and felt the increased pressure between her legs. She moaned.
"Not yet," Steve whispered to her. Then one of his fingers was circling in one spot. Circling, even smaller, pushing ever harder, directly into her. She held her breath. There was a resisting pressure, a pain as if her skin was being drawn up inside of her with him. Everything seemed to pull tight, to stretch to the breaking point. She was about to scream when her flesh suddenly parted down there. Her tightly resisting vaginal lips spread apart, and his outstretched middle finger slid up into her cunt. Her scream turned into a gasp of astonishment. Oh -God! She had been penetrated!
No one - not even herself - had ever been inside her before. It was curious, being stretched all around his finger, pressing down on it from all sides, feeling filled with him. Then he slid back out, and as she returned to normal she moaned in astonished pleasure. So this was what it was like!
Then he slid back in, but with two fingers this time. She thought she would burst, but then she parted again and he was in her. Out. In. Out. He continued to piston his fingers in and out of her erotically quivering cunt. Each time he withdrew, Tina felt as if she was being sucked out with him. Each time he entered she gasped in pleasure as she stretched to accommodate him.
A tingling sensation had started down there where he was stroking and it soon spread out over her whole body. Her legs, and especially the area up between her lewdly splayed thighs was aglow with a warm, pulsating pleasure. She knew she should clasp her knees together and try to stop the relentless flood of sensation that was assaulting her brain before it was too late.
Her navel felt alive, her skin seemed to be flowing over her body. Her nipples felt as if they were going to pop right off the surface of her breasts. And her breasts themselves, with Steve's mouth sucking and nibbling at them, were sending shock after shock of carnal delight along her nerve pathways directly to her head - and directly down to her private zones. She felt as if someone were sending electric currents through her nerve endings, through her veins and even through her bones. The young girl felt helpless . . . weak with excitement. She was almost unconscious, her arousal at such a fever pitch she wasn't aware of what was happening to her.
By now her legs were up on the seat and spread to opposite sides of the car. Her panties were off and lying on the floor next to her stockings. Her blouse was unbuttoned and pushed down her arms to her elbows so that she couldn't move them at all. Her brassiere was on her lap and her skirt was too - bunched up around her hips so that it would be out of the way. Her naked skin was golden, like amber or ivory under a yellow light. Her breasts stood out firm and succulent, round and full as two moons. And her firm young thighs, spread open so far and so inviting, met in a lush triangle of auburn down, surrounding her puffy vaginal lips and the moistly tender opening to her femininity. Steve knelt between her legs and looked at her warmly perfumed cunt spread before him for the first time, and he knew that the wait had been worthwhile. Tina was a girl worth waiting years to have. He started to unbuckle his belt.
It was the sound of his zipper - whirling like a rattlesnake - that snapped Tina out of her euphoria. She knew that she would either have to stop Steve now or stop being a virgin. But so what? She asked herself. Why should I stop him? Why should I stop this pleasure? This wonderful feeling inside me?
But she knew she couldn't go through with it. It went against all her principles. Besides, if she gave in all the way to Steve now, he wouldn't have any special reason for coming back. It was better to keep something in reserve. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, or have the fullest confidence in his intentions, it was just that it always paid to play it safe. Her dad had taught her that. She reached down and pulled his hand from between her legs.
Steve looked up from where he had been sucking at her nipple. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Stopping this before it goes too far, Steve."
One hand was still on his zipper, the other hung empty between her legs. He stared up at her, not quite comprehending what was happening, maddened and angered. "Are you out of your head?"
"You know how I feel, Steve. I want to ... " "You goddamned cockteaser!" He exploded with rage.
"Don't talk like that." "Oh fuck you!"
She pulled her legs together and cringed over in the corner of the seat. "Take me home Steve."
"You bet. You bitch!" He rebuckled his belt and got up into the driver's seat. He desperately wanted to fuck her - he had never been hornier for a girl in his life. But he knew better than to try to force himself on her; he had tried that too many times before. She bit. Scratched! Punched! Kicked! And when all else failed, she screamed at the top of her voice! He had no desire to get picked up for rape on his last night in this goddamned hick town.
He popped the clutch and sprayed gravel over the other cars as he sped out of the drive-in and onto Bangs Road.
Tina glanced at the screen as they left. Two people were twisted up together. Writhing. They looked to her like a big pretzel.
As they roared home in silence, Tina stared out the window, thinking. She had grown up here, had always lived here. Her friends had always lived here. She had never been anywhere else, except for one trip to Cleveland when she was eight. Now it was all changing. Jan and Sally had already left for Kent State. Cathy had moved to New York. Steve was leaving for the Navy the next morning. And the following day she was leaving for Ohio State. This last night was to have been a special celebration. She had imagined it as a sort of farewell to youth - but not the sort of farewell it had almost become.
She leaned over to Steve, hoping that he had forgiven her. He shoved her roughly back with a growl. She became afraid that he wouldn't forgive her, that he would never speak to her again. She didn't know what she would do without him. They had been going steady since the eighth grade. He was the only boy she had ever kissed. A sick feeling grew in the pit of her stomach.
"Steve, what's wrong?"
"You know goddamned well what's wrong. There's only so much teasing a man can take. You let me strip you, get us all excited and then say no! It's unnatural! Unhealthy! And un . . . unforgivable!"
Tina didn't answer him. She didn't know what to do.
"Once I'm at basic training, and the guys all decide to go out to a whore house for a little fun, do you think I'm gonna be able to resist them? In my present condition? Fat chance! I'll be the first one there! I'll have to be. To keep my sanity."
Tina shuddered. They had talked about this before.
"All I wanted was one little thing. Something we could share before I left. Something to remember you by. Something everybody does! Huh! But not with you! You're too precious!"
Though she didn't realize it yet, Tina had made a decision. She reached down and picked up her panties and stockings from the floor. She laid them down on her lap next to her brassiere. But she didn't put them back on. Instead she buttoned up her blouse - so that it would be closed if any of the neighbors were watching.
Steve roared up to her driveway, then slammed on the brakes. The screeching of the tires seemed deafening in her ears.
"Oh," Steve sneered sarcastically, "I hope I didn't wake up your dad."
Tina looked over at him, still not aware of what she had decided to do. "He's not home, Steve." He looked over at her in disappointment and disdain. "He won't be home until very late. If at all." She hesitated for a second then plunged ahead. "Would you like to come in for awhile?"
Steve looked at her suspiciously, examined her closely for a long time, then shrugged. "Sure. Why not. Maybe I can beat Off with one of his Playboys."
"Steve!" she looked at him reprimandingly.
"I'm sorry."
They walked up the sidewalk and into the big, almost mansion-sized house. It was very befitting the town's only doctor. Tina was the youngest in a family that had once numbered six. First her mother had been killed in a car accident. Then her oldest brother had been killed in Vietnam. Her sister had gotten married, divorced, and gone to Seattle with her two kids. Her brother had dropped out of Carnegie-Mellon and gone to Europe. The last word of him had been a postcard from Istanbul two years earlier. Arrested on a drug charge was the consensus of the authorities Mr. Kremer had contacted. But no one seemed to know for sure. So now Tina and her dad lived alone in their big house - and he was away a majority of the time.
Tina opened the front door and turned on the light. They were in a large entrance foyer. To one side was the living room, complete with love seats, a grand piano, and several original oil paintings. To the other side was the dining room with splendid oak paneling and a large formal hutch.
Tina started up the stairs. "I'll be back down in a minute. Okay?"
"Sure." Steve looked up at her, so beautiful in the soft light of the stairwell, streaming down through her hair from behind, making her look as if she had just stepped out of a motion picture publicity photo from the thirties. He remembered how she had looked in the car. "Can I make myself a drink? I think I'm gonna need it."
"Go ahead," she called as she scampered up the stairs. "The booze is in the cabinet over the sink. Make me one too. A big one." Steve watched her as she ascended the stairs and turned the corner. He was filled with mixed fascination and desire. He made two drinks. Both were very strong. And very big.
One hour later, as the soft strains of Olivia Newton-John filled the room from speakers set in each corner, Steve and Tina sat holding each other in one of the love seats. All the lights in the house were out and the table next to them was littered with six empty glasses. On the floor was a bottle of vodka. It had been more than half full when the evening had begun, but it was nearly empty now. Steve reached down and grabbed it around the neck, making sure that he had a firm grip on it. It wobbled unsteadily as he slowly and very deliberately lifted it toward his mouth.
"Is there any left?" Tina's voice was thick and slurred. Her eyes were nearly closed as she squinted at it, trying to see.
Steve swung the bottle in a circle. The vodka sloshed out an answer. "A little," he replied.
"Gimme."
Before he could protest, she had grabbed the bottle from his hands and upended it, gulping down the final remains. A thin stream trickled down her cheek. Steve bent close to her and began to lick it, first from the sides of her mouth and then down off her neck.
She giggled and let a little more trickle down. Steve saw that she was holding a mouthful of it in ready reserve. He licked the new offering, ending at her mouth and continuing up to her ear. She giggled again and then squirted the remaining vodka out the front of her mouth so that it rolled down her chin and into the front of her blouse.
"Oh-oh!" she said with mock innocence.
"I'll get it," replied Steve reassuringly, and he moved smoothly to open the top buttons of her blouse. It was then that he noticed that she hadn't bothered to put her bra back on. He could see the smooth round tops of her breasts, unhaltered and swinging free a few inches below the top of her blouse. He opened one more button and could see them, wet with the vodka, glistening and ready. He lowered his mouth slowly, licking and sucking as he went, past her chin and neck, down along the smooth curve of her throat, into the triangular opening in her blouse made by the opened buttons. He went down until he reached the firm bulge that the marked the top of her breasts and then he stopped and sighed, afraid of what he thought might happen again.
"You didn't get it all yet," Tina murmured. She leaned far back in the loveseat and lifted her arms back over her head so that her breasts thrust forward and up, spreading her blouse further and bulging out into the gap in it. Her head was thrown back so that her throat and shoulders were open and exposed.
Steve looked at her in the dim light that filtered through the curtained windows from the streetlights outside. Her skin was white and translucent, as pure as new fallen snow. He followed the line of her skin from her chin down to where her two breasts poked up through the thin material of her blouse. He reached out and touched the buttons which were still fastened. "I'll have to undo these to get to the rest."
She didn't say a word, just stared back at him pontifically. He wondered if she was still awake or if she had passed out. Then she shrugged at him and winked, and he knew.
He unfastened the last buttons and pulled the blouse back away from her chest. Her breasts stood out like two melons, ripe and near to bursting. Steve stared at the twin marvels. Firm, rounded, perfect in shape - exquisitely formed so that each would seem more beautiful than the other, each would beg to be the first to be kissed and fondled. He bent down and sucked one of the soft warm mounds up into his mouth and heard her moan with pleasure. Gently, he nibbled at the erect, rubbery little nipple.
The trembling young blonde was like a statue, a Venus de Milo chiseled out of living flesh. Warm and soft and yielding. She stared down at Steve through eyes that had become two slits, eyes through which two sultry fires burned and gleamed. Then she smiled and pulled his head tightly against her, burying his head in her naked flesh.
He sucked at her, feeling the nipple grow aroused and protrusive. Steve fancied that he was a baby again and sucked with all his might, drawing the breast deep into his mouth, filling his mouth with its softness. Tina shivered and moaned, clutching his head to her, her head thrown back on the love seat in an attitude of reckless abandon, an attitude of total surrender to his whims.
She slid down onto the love seat, pulling him down with her, swinging her legs up onto the seat next to her until she was lying flat with him on top of her, still clutched to her breast. Steve struggled to free himself from her grasp and stood up, looking down at her suspiciously.
"Is this going to be another ball breaker?"
She shook her head quickly, in resignation. "Take me, Steve." She said it softly, quickly, her eyes shut as tightly as if she was flinching from a blow.
Steve looked down at her. "Do you mean it?"
She nodded her head.
"Really?"
"Yes."
He still wasn't convinced. He didn't want to be denied again at the last instant. "Look at me and say it."
She opened her eyes a little bit, squinting at him, then quickly looked away. "Steve, I don't want to lose you. I'll do anything to keep you. Anything!"
He saw that she meant it. And he saw that it wasn't the alcohol talking. A smile spread across his face. Without another word he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. They dropped to the floor with a quiet rustle. He stepped out of first one leg then the other, leaving pants and underwear in a small heap in the floor.
Tina had made up her mind to let him do anything he wanted to do while she was still in the car; she had reinforced her decision with half a fifth of vodka. It was almost like a dream as she heard herself say "Yes. Do what you wish." She half expected him to refuse, to be gallant, a gentleman. But then came the sound of a zipper and the swish of falling material, then came the feeling of his hands on her skirt.
All her fears and doubts were lost in the rush of her expectation. She had wondered what it would be like for years now. She had tried many times to imagine it, to create the experience in her mind. Now she would have the real thing. Now she would know for sure. She waited with rising excitement for him to take her.
Steve was too excited to bother with his shirt. He immediately reached down and began to finish undressing her. He opened her skirt and tugged at it, trying to get it over her flaring hips.
"Help me, Tina. Lift up so I can get this off," he hissed. She complied and the skirt squeezed over her hips and down over the smooth curves of her naked buttocks. He saw with astonishment that she hadn't bothered to put her stockings or panties back on after he had stripped her in the car. She lay now on the love seat totally naked and spread before him like a long awaited feast, a prize!
His eyes locked on her long wonderful legs, they were fully exposed before him, stretched out full length, with one knee crossed over the other so that her sleek upper thighs were pressed together, hiding the mysteries between them. His eyes traveled up the curved calves to the knees, smooth and seemingly boneless, with hollows and dark shadowed areas from which started the longer, fuller curves of her thighs.
Her thighs were special with a sheen of exceedingly fine golden hair which disappeared midway up. Her hips swelled out from the sides of her thighs, two flaring bulges that a man could grab onto and use as grips during the long frenzied ride while lovemaking. So many beautiful hollows and mounds there, so many wondrous handholds - places to pull and twist.
Between her golden thighs was a mound, the mound of love with its thick, lush bush and the start of her fleshy vaginal valley. Further up, the tautly rounded little belly - the belly of a harem dancer with a perfect navel waiting to be bit or licked. Above that her waist, slender and lithe, twisting back and forth as she squirmed now in anticipation. Her torso with just a hint of ribs to ripple her gleaming flesh, above all of these, her breasts - two swollen mountains with dark circles and iron-hard nipples straining out into the space before her.
Her breasts were topped by a firm rolling cleavage, and then the soft, vulnerable throat, stretching up to her face: eyes closed with the long, silken lashes fluttering with desire; mouth slightly parted, moist and full; lips wet and waiting, glistening; tongue barely visible, flitting to and fro in the dim recesses of her mouth; teeth, white and even, teeth that could give pleasure enough to drive a man wild. Hair, long and blonde, cascading down around her naked shoulders in wild abandon.
Steve had never seen her stretched out like that before - totally naked and ready. It was a sight he'd remember as long as he lived. She looked so desirable that he was afraid he'd orgasm before he ever got in her.
Quickly, he knelt between the lewdly spread legs and pushed against the insides of her knees, opening her even further to him. There before him was the dark pink opening of her hair-rimmed vagina. He could see that it was moist - little drops of her liquid excitement glistened on the surface of the lips and hair. The gaping little mouth of her cunt seemed to be pulsating, throbbing in expectation of his burying his long hard cock in it. He reached, almost reverently, and her flesh spread open to him as his finger sunk deep into the moist slippery warmth. Tina moaned loudly as her vaginal muscles contracted on him, and he felt the pressure, felt the suction that drew him into her. His painfully throbbing cock tightened and it's lust-swollen head burgeoned in readiness to plunge into her virginal opening.
Steve slowly pulled his finger out of her warmly clasping cunt and there was a soft sound as her lips reluctantly gave him up. The naked girl moaned again and spread her legs wider, opening herself even more so that the gleaming pink hole up between her thighs was fully exposed for him. Groaning with impatience, the youth positioned himself on top of her as Tina eagerly lifted her pelvis up against him.
He slid his hands beneath her softly fleshy ass-cheeks and with the tips of his fingers, he gently pulled her heated vaginal lips apart. She was as wet and ready as if she had just had a lube job, he thought. Then, as she moaned and held tightly to his shoulders he slid his thick rigid cock up along her wetly heated slit until it was slippery with her vaginal juices. Then he pressed inward into her gaping cuntal mouth. She gave easily and swallowed him into her, but her virginal pussy was as tight as a ring on a piston. Her rippling muscles pressed down on his penetrating shaft from all sides; and it created a pleasure like he had never felt before as he slowly wormed his eagerly pulsating penis up into her resisting cunt.
When Tina felt his hotly throbbing hardness moving up into her belly, she gasped in pain. He was so big! She felt as if she would be torn apart. Her eyes opened and she looked up into his face. He looked as if he were lewdly leering at her, then he buried his head in her neck and she saw nothing but the ceiling as he began pulling his rigid shaft back out of her no longer virginal opening.
She breathed out with a sigh, wondering if that was all there was to it. Then he plunged back in. Deeper this time, and she felt his testicles slam against her upturned ass-cheeks. Once again she was rocked by his thrust. She clenched him tighter and moaned softly. His tempo quickened! In and out he drove, filling her womb with his pulsating hardness on each inward stroke. Stretching her out with him with each withdrawal. Her insides seemed to ignite and flame into embers. Her brain was shocked by the giddy sensations her body was sending it. She felt wonderfully full when he was in her and couldn't wait for the next stroke every time he left.
She didn't know what he meant when he groaned and said, "Oh shit, baby. I'm sorry . . . can't help myself!"
He rammed his wildly jerking penis in and stayed in this time. She felt him shudder several times and heard him moan, and felt his thickened cock bucking and twitching inside her, filling her vagina with a liquid heat . Then he rested against her, spent. The unfulfilled feeling inside her seemed to cry out in anguish for a moment, then it too began to die away.
"Well," she thought to herself. "Now you're a woman." � After a minute she felt something leaking out of her and realized that he was no longer as big and hard as he had been. Whatever was leaking was sticky and warm. She wondered if it was blood or sperm or something from inside of her.
She clutched him to her breast. "Steve, do you love me?"
He mumbled something without lifting his head from her neck.
She hugged him again and squeezed herself around his shaft, trying to hold him inside of her forever.
CHAPTER TWO
As eleven o'clock rang across the oval of the Ohio State campus, students began to stream out of their buildings, heading either for the next class, home, the library, the student union, or a rendezvous. Ten minutes later, another period would have begun and the grounds would again be quiet and nearly deserted.
Inside the political science building, Professor William Tate, instructor of the introductory political science course, was calling his class roll.
"Paul Bailey."
"Here."
"Roger Caulfield." "Here."
"Christina Kremer." "Here."
"Ahhhh. So you grace us with your presence today, Miss Kremer. Tell us all, what is the special occasion?"
The laughter of the class echoed in Tina's ears. She hated Tate, had hated him from the first class. That was why she had returned only once since then. He was so smug, so self-assured. Standing up there before everyone like some miniature god. She had let him know that first day that she didn't share his high opinion of himself. Yes, and after that first class, when he had approached her with his smooth line and sweet talk, she had told him what he could do with his transparent invitation to pursue "independent study" at his apartment some evening.
"Miss Kremer?"
She stood and faced him, speaking loudly enough so that the entire class could easily hear. "The reason I'm here, sir, is because there was a strange rumor in the cafeteria this morning. The rumor had it that you were finally going to utter an intelligent remark or at least make a perceptive comment. I could hardly miss such a rare and momentous occasion. Sir."
The laughter of the class exploded around her. She smiled sweetly at Tate and sat back down. She continued reading the letter she had received that morning from Steve.
Tina, Sorry I haven't written for so long, but boot camp keeps us all very busy. Some of the guys here haven't even written to their folks yet. Anyway, we're through now and Monday I'm being sent to San Diego. I hear that it's a great base and one of the best places to be stationed so that looks like it'll be okay. I had my first leave last week and wanted to come up and see you, but I couldn't find a ride, so I went into Atlanta instead - went with a bunch of the guys. It's a really nice city, not at all like you'd expect it to be, if you know what I mean. Well, that's about all I have time for now. Say hello to all the old gang for me if and when you see them. Tell them that Steve will be back for Christmas.
See ya then, Steve P.S. You should see me in my uniform. I look just like Jack Nicholson!!!!
It was the third time she had read the letter, and she still couldn't believe it. The first word she had had from him in almost two months and not a word about her, not a word about them. Not one! He couldn't even come up during his leave. No ride indeed! As if buses didn't run and planes didn't fly.
She thought of the dozens of letters that she had written him, of the detailed and elaborate plans she had made for his first visit. She had even arranged places for both her roommates to sleep so that she and Steve could have the room to themselves. Now she felt like a fool. She refolded the letter and placed it once again in its envelope.
The angry blonde glared up at Tate prancing about the head of the room like a peacock. Men! They were all alike. Bastards!
* * *
That evening Tina sat in the chair by her desk rereading the letter for the ninth time. Her bathrobe was loosely pulled about her shoulders, barely covering her. Her roommates were both at a rally for the Ohio State football team and she had taken a shower and decided to air-dry. Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door.
"Come in," she called without looking up, thinking that it was one of the other girls on her floor.
"Hello." The deep masculine voice surprised her. She started and looked up. Standing at the door was Nick Drake, a boy she had known in high school. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. She was so stunned by his unexpected presence, that she forgot how scarcely she was clothed. Leaning forward in astonishment, her bathrobe parted and revealing her full, still-wet breasts, she merely stared at him, wondering what had brought him to her room at this moment.
Only the fact that his eyes strayed from her face and became riveted on her bosom drew her attention back to her wardrobe. She blushed and pulled her robe closed.
"Hi Tina. Remember me?" He smiled affably.
"Of course, Nick." She waited for him to explain his unexpected and unannounced presence.
"I was in town and on campus today and happened to see you walking by. I'm staying with some friends and we're having a picnic Saturday - to celebrate this warm weather so late in October." He hesitated for a second, very shy, then went on determined to ask his question. "I was wondering if you'd come with me."
Tina answered yes before she realized what she was saying.
"Good," he smiled in relief. "Bring a bathing suit if it's warm enough. We're going to make full use of this Indian summer." He turned and opened the door to leave. "I'll pick you up at ten. Good-bye." He started to leave, but stopped again and looked down past her face at her body.
Tina pulled her bathrobe a little tighter, trying not to make the move too obvious. Then she realized that this time he was staring at her legs which were curled up underneath her and stuck out beneath the bottom of the short robe. He smiled and walked out the door without another word.
"Good-bye," she called after him. It all seemed like a dream. In high school, Nick had been a brilliant, but strange boy, with handsome looks bordering on the wild side. He had existed on the fringes of school society, never part of any one group, but never far from any either.
But that had been then. The man who had stood at the door was as different from that Nick as a butterfly is from a moth. The good looks were still there, but now they were striking. He had cut his ragged, stringy hair and wore it now in a short shag. It was jet black and shiny and sleek. She had wanted to touch it.
He now wore a full moustache that accented his wide mouth and sculptured cheekbones and gave him a mysterious, sinister air. He seemed to have grown much taller, well over six foot now, and to have filled out considerably. He now looked muscular and fully-proportioned instead of thin and hollow.
And somewhere in the months since graduation, he had acquired poise and a commanding attitude. She wondered what he had been doing. His voice had been soft but forceful. His manner, though shy and reserved, had been straightforward - assured. She would have found his invitation tempting under any circumstances. Coming as it did on the heels of Steve's crushing letter, she found it irresistible.
What made it all even better was that Steve had been the only one who could have been considered Nick's friend. They had often talked about cars and motors after school and during lunch. Going out with him would be wonderful revenge. She would make sure Steve heard about it during Christmas.
* * *
Saturday found Tina running gaily across the sands of Eagle Lake. Although it was the thirtieth of October, the temperature was still in the seventies - twenty degrees warmer than it had been that September night when she had given in to Steve! The sun was beating down as if it was still mid-summer.
Tina was wearing a skimpy red bikini which she had made still skimpier by pulling its strings very tight and gathering the material at the sides of her hips. Her breasts bobbled as she ran, threatening at each step to burst out of their tentative confinement. Every male and female at the picnic was waiting for that burst of freedom.
Not an eye was watching anything but her running form.
Behind her ran Nick, sprinting like a college halfback. He grabbed her and pulled her down to the sand on top of him. But he guided her as she fell, holding her so that her descent was as gentle as if she rode a cushion of air. She wondered if he had had that build all through those years in high school or if it was a recent acquisition. All that potential overlooked by all those people for all those years. She wondered how many other boys, like Nick, were judged and discarded on the basis of their outward appearances early in life and never given the chance to grow and develop into their own.
Then he was up and away and it was her turn to chase him. She stopped thinking and resumed playing.
Later they all gathered together: Tina and Nick, and his group of friends. The others began to take off their bathing suits and then ran for the water.
"What's going on?" Tina asked Nick, genuinely puzzled.
"Skinny dipping," he answered bemusedly, wondering how someone so beautiful could be so naive. "Come on. There's only about an hour left until dark."
And then he, too, had dropped his suit and was running into the water. Tina didn't know what to do. She had never seen a man naked, and had never let one see her, except Steve that night, and all the lights had been out then. It just didn't seem right to run around naked in front of all these strangers in broad daylight. And yet all these others were doing it. And enjoying it too - from the sounds of their laughter and splashing. She watched them playing for awhile - turning her head every time one of the men began to rise too high out of the water.
"What's the matter?" They called out to her from the water.
"Come on on!"
"The water's warm!"
She turned away. Embarrassed. And was about to go back to the cars to wait when she heard explaining to the others.
"She's probably afraid of what Steve would say if he ever found out."
"Who's Steve."
"Her boyfriend."
"The one in the Navy? Hah! What does she say about what he's been up to?"
"She doesn't say anything. Just sits and waits for him to come back to her."
Tina turned slowly back toward the water until she was facing them fully. Then she reached back and slowly undid the back of her bra. She let it slip, an inch at a time, down her arms until it fell to the sand at her feet. Then she undid one bow at a time, letting the string fall across her hips. Gracefully, she stepped out of her swim-suit panties and dropped them with a flourish.
She stood for a second, naked, with the setting sun glinting off her golden skin, hands on her hips, pelvis thrust forward. Her eyes looked at no one, but stared out over their heads to the other shore.
Then a wolf's whistle pierced the stillness of the autumn lake, and she smiled and dashed toward the water. Every eye, man's and woman's, was on her beautiful body as it streaked across the sand and plunged into the lake. Then there was another whistle and every man dashed through the water, hoping to be the first to reach and grab her.
Later they went horseback riding and she looked magnificent on top of the horse. Someone decided that she'd, look even better riding naked. So they surrounded her and pulled her from the horse and stripped her of everything she had on. Then a dozen pairs of hands lifted her into the air and carried her back to her horse. They placed her back on the saddle and christened her Lady Tina Godiva.
She sat astride the huge horse, the wind rippling her hair and raising goose bumps on her skin. Her nipples protruded, firm and hard and her slit spread under her weight, pulling her inner surfaces across the cool, soft leather.
She walked the horse slowly in a circle and felt the gentle rubbing of the saddle against her sensitive vaginal flesh begin to start the same rush of sensation she had felt when she made love. The excitement began to grow, deep down
inside there and spread out through her nerves. She threw her head back and urged the horse to go faster.
As he trotted through the cold night air, she clutched at the reins and pressed her wildly tingling cunt down hard against the saddle, laughing with pleasure as she rode away from all the others.
"Boy would I love to be that horse," one of the men called out after her.
"Horse hell," yelled another, "I'd like to be that saddle!"
They all laughed at that. Even the girls.
Even Tina.
* * *
When she got back to her dorm, her roommates were waiting up, anxious to question her about everything that had happened. She had been the most beautiful new girl on the Ohio State campus and yet she had turned down dates with dozens of the college's most desirable men. No one knew that she had done it out of loyalty to Steve, and so she had been labeled first as a snob, then as a dyke, and finally as a misfit.
Now she had finally gone out with someone - a dark, handsome stranger. And she had stayed out, all day, all evening, and half the night. Her roommates wanted to know exactly what had happened - in detail.
For over an hour, Tina answered their questions, telling them everything, except that she had been nude. No, she patiently told them, she hadn't balled Nick - or anyone else. She hadn't even come close to it. In fact, he hadn't even kissed her good night. Why was her face so flushed then? Because of the riding.
They didn't believe her. She could see that they didn't - and weren't about to - so she gave up and went to take a shower. In the bathroom, she had just removed her panties and was about to step into the shower when the two of them burst in on her.
"So!" one of them exclaimed accusingly, "didn't do anything, huh?"
"My God! She must be the world's champion marathon fucker!" cried the other.
Tina didn't understand what they were so excited about until she turned and caught sight of herself in the full length mirror on the wall. The inner parts of her thighs were covered with purple welts, from her knees up to her crotch, and her pubic area was swollen and red.
The effects of the leather, she knew, and tried to tell them so, But they wouldn't hear of it and left, still chortling to themselves.
By the next afternoon, at Sunday lunch, the whole dorm was buzzing with the story of her extended sexual escapades. .
"I once balled four guys eleven times in a row," one expert proclaimed, "and I didn't wind up nearly that bad."
The consensus was that Tina had gone somewhere and screwed non-stop all day. Estimates of the number of men needed to keep her going for that long ranged from six up to three dozen. What was worse, the men in the nearby dorms were beginning to hear about it too. She couldn't go anywhere without encountering a smirk or a proposition. Or both.
In one day, Christina Kremer had gone from ice-queen to sex-queen. Christy the Creamer they began calling her.
CHAPTER THREE
On the way home from the picnic Saturday, Nick had invited Tina to a Halloween party on the next night. She had told him that she couldn't go. But by the time Sunday lunch came, and the tenth guy had called her Christy the Creamer, she got up from her table and called him to tell him when she had changed her mind.
He picked her up at seven.
The party was being held in an old deserted mansion in the remote suburb of Dublin. The house was secluded - so secluded that there seemed to be nothing else around. No other houses, no other roads, no other people. Nick drove up and parked his car, a brand new Pacer, behind the house. There were at least twenty other cars already there. They were spaced across the huge patio, driveway, carport and across the back lawn.
Together they entered the party. Tina was dressed as Sleeping Beauty in a long flowing white gown covered with lace and embroidery. She had a golden tiara in her hair. Nick was dressed as Prince Charming in scarlet tights, a royal purple Edwardian jacket, frilly white shirt, and a felt hat with an ostrich plume.
They walked through the rooms of the house, each of which was decorated as a totally different environment. One room was steaming hot and filled with tropical plants. Another was freezing cold and dry, with white foam covering floors, walls, furniture, and people. One room was a chamber of horrors with racks, whips, manacles on the walls, and other instruments of torture whose purposes Tina could only guess at. She shuddered as they walked past and she noticed that the room was filled with people using the strange devices.
Everywhere was loud pounding music and people in glittering expensive costumes. There were skeletons, ghouls, zombies, courtiers, cavemen, futuristic spacemen, and others who defied description. One couple had come as Hershey chocolate bars. She was Hershey's Plain. He, Hershey's with Nuts. Another woman came as a daisy. Her costume centered around her pelvis and was crotchless, making her pubic mound and naked vagina the center of her flower. Her mate was bumblebee with an immense dildo as a stinger. She carried a jar of honey with her with which she rubbed into her flower; he retrieved it with stinger or mouth.
Tina and Nick finally settled in a large room whose floor was covered by water beds. Tina walked up to one and gingerly lowered herself onto it. She laughed as it gave way beneath her and then began to undulate in rhythm with the waves she had set off. Nick laughed too, and said he would be back in a minute with a couple of drinks.
Hardly had he left the room, when Tina felt two hands reach around her from behind and fasten tightly over her breasts. Before she could turn to see who and what was grabbing her, she was pulled backwards onto the water bed and dragged across its surface. She came to rest against the far edge, pinned flat by the two powerful hands. Before she could scream or call for help, two more men were upon her - one fastening a gag around her mouth, the other lying across her legs so that she couldn't kick or move at all.
Before she knew it, she was gagged and helpless - one man holding down each arm and the third straddling her legs.
"Hi," said one of them, "I'm Happy."
"And I'm Hippy," said another.
"And I'm horny," said the one between her legs, pressing against the insides of her thighs so that her legs slid open across the smooth surface of the water bed. He ran his hands up her legs, under the layers of silken skirt and slips. He ran his hands all the way up and she felt him reach and begin to stroke at the sensitive flesh up between her legs, sliding his fingers around and inside her panties to burrow into her warm nest.
The other two had begun to undo her dress, pulling apart the snaps and ribbons so that they could expose her breasts. One of them had jammed her hand into his crotch, and though she had doubled up her hands into a tight fist, she could still feel him, hard, hot and throbbing against the backs of her fingers.
She felt the hands under her skirt pulling at her panties, she knew that unless Nick hurried back she would be helpless to resist these three. Then she heard his voice breaking through the noise of the party.
"All right you three, beat it! What do you think this is, freebies?" The three looked up at Nick, stern and angry, holding the drinks in either hand and ready to hurl them at whichever one gave him the slightest resistance.
"Okay. Okay. Didn't mean nothing."
"That's right. We thought she was a loner."
The three of them got up and began to edge away.
Steve took a step toward them, threateningly. They turned and moved quickly away. Nick sat down beside her and eased the gag out of her mouth. Then he offered her a drink. She tried thank him, but he brushed it off, calling the whole thing a misunderstanding.
Tina took a deep gulp of the drink. It felt soothing and relaxing. Soon she had forgotten about the incident. She felt better, calm again and very cheerful.
As they sat and drank, the party seemed to recede into the distance. It seemed as if Tina was watching everything that happened around her from a far distant place - like she was viewing a play from a high balcony. Even her voice seemed detached and strange, as if someone else was speaking. She seemed to hear her words for the first time as they came out of her mouth.
As her glass emptied, Nick refilled it from a pitcher he had with him. He offered a toast to Sleeping Beauty and told her to chug the whole drink with him. She did.
As soon as the liquid hit her stomach, she felt a curious sensation rush over her. It started in her lower back and seemed to spiral up her spine. The sensation ended in her head, and she shook like a dog throwing off water, laughing and falling back onto the bed. She seemed to fall for hours before she finally hit with a resounding smack.
The bed gave way under her and she sank in, deep into and under the bed. Then she floated up again as the waves rebounded off the sides of the frame and returned to rock her gently. Each swell of the bed triggered a new rush. She felt as if she was floating on top of a vast ocean.
Nick was hovering over her. Slowly she drew him into focus and ask him what he was doing up on her cloud.
He smiled back at her and held a white powder under nose, telling her to snort it. She sniffed at it, but couldn't smell anything. He told her to try to sniff harder. She steadied herself and then inhaled suddenly and strongly.
For a second she felt nothing new, but then her brain seemed to open up like a dam before flood waters, and she was deluged with new sensations. She felt as if she could touch every nerve, every pore, every cell in her body. And as if every one of them was tingling back at her. She could hardly breathe, the feeling was so dizzying.
Then she became aware of Nick over her again, and she seemed to just know that he was waiting for her. She struggled to summon up her strength, then smiled up at him and nodded. With her last bit of energy, she reached out and grabbed him around the neck and pulled him down onto her.
Nick slowly pulled himself loose from her arms and began to undo her clothes. First her dress, then the multitude of frilly white lace slips. Then corset, stockings, bra and panties. She lay on the water bed, the waves giving her pelvis a soft, rhythmic movement.
He was out of his clothes and onto her in what seemed like only an instant. He took her legs and lifted them high over his waist, wrapping them around his back and folding them one over the other so that they would stay there. Then he slid down and kissed each of her breasts.
With one hand on either side, he squeezed them together so that they almost touched and then licked the narrow valley between them.
While he did that, he pushed his hips at her slowly and the tip of his penis probed for her tight cuntal opening. His lust-swollen tip slid in a short way but then began to pull her in with it. He slid out and circled a few times then pushed inward again.
In and out he went, each time penetrating a little further, each time spreading her warm lubricating juices a little further down his shaft. Then he plunged in all the way and she moaned in response and clutched him tight.
He was finally in and fucking, her legs wrapped tightly around his back, high up so that they pulled her against him as he drove in. His hands were dug in under her buttocks propping her up so that he could drive in deeper, plunge himself into her and bury it to the hilt.
His mouth latched onto her neck and began to scrape along the soft surface there, his teeth leaving bright red trails along her golden skin ...
He took his little finger and twisted it slowly up into her tightly puckering anus, rotating it and pulsing it in time to his thrusts with his cock. With his other hand, he reached behind her head and took hold of her neck, twisting her head so that he could kiss her ears, then her eyes, then her mouth, then her throat.
All the time he was fucking powerfully into her, shaking her with each thrust of his thick rigid cock so that she shuddered and clenched him with her arms. She was moaning and squeezing his back with her legs, pulling him deeper into her. Then she began to cry out and dig her fingers into his back.
Oh . . . my . . . God ..." she moaned in ecstasy, "Oh . . . my ... more ... more!"
She began to writhe under him, out of control in her passion. Then she gave a loud, rasping gasp and sucked air deep into her lungs. A shudder passed over her body and she slumped down onto the rolling mattress in exhaustion.
Nick stopped for a moment and looked down at the naked young blonde. She was more beautiful than ever, her face and breasts flushed with the blood of her orgasm, her features softer and more alluring than ever.
She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "That was the best I've ever had, Nick. You were wonderful."
He grinned down at her. "What do you mean, 'were'? We're just starting."
"You mean there's more?" she asked incredulously. She stared up at him, unbelieving. There certainly hadn't been more than this that night with Steve. And while that had been her only previous experience, she had thought that everything was similar to that.
Nick smiled down at her. "Are you kidding? You must have known some real impotents if you think we're gonna quit now. Hold on beautiful." He pulled his warmly pulsating penis out of her. She gasped at the sudden withdrawal and the empty feeling it left her with.
Suddenly she was spun around onto her stomach. Her face was pressed down onto the water bed. Before she could ask what was happening, Nick had pulled her to her hands and knees and had forced her legs apart. She felt him kneel down behind her. She felt his hands reach between her legs and spread open her vaginal lips. Her cunt was stretched wide and then she felt something else.
"This time pay attention and help me out," Nick commanded. Then he plunged into her. Somehow he had grown twice as big as he had been before, or so it seemed to Tina. She cried out in delirious pleasure, soaring again and cumming after only one thrust. Nick grabbed at her breasts and pulled her back onto him, holding her impaled on his hotly throbbing shaft. She cried out again and then was lost as the rushing sensations flooded her mind and drowned out all other thoughts.
* * *
Tina didn't know how long they had been making love. First he had been on top of her. Then he had lay down and pulled her on top of him. After that they had lain side by side for a few moments while he had recovered.
Then they had began again. It felt to her as if they had been balling for hours. Three times she had felt him shudder and cum inside her, but each time he had lain quiet for a few minutes and then straddled her again.
She had orgasmed time and time again, each new climax had been wilder and more shattering than the last. She thought she would die if she came one more time.
Now she was lying on top of him, facing him, but bent over backward so that her head rested between his feet. He was lying still with his thick swollen cock stuck deep up inside her ecstatic sheath and pressed against the sensitive tip of her cervix. With his hands he was massaging her clitoris and her vaginal lips.
Every time she began to climax, however, he would stop and gently stroke the insides of her thighs, calming her. She felt like screaming, the tension was unbearable.
With every approach to orgasm, the pleasure was so intense and exhilarating that she began to writhe and moan. Then he would stop and the agony of her frustration was so terrible she would cry out and try to force his hands up into her. She was moaning constantly now, unaware of anything but the pressure of his fingers on her clitoris and the powerful drum-beat of his shaft in her pussy.
Once again she felt a climax coming. She began to breath in gasps. She reached down and grabbed his hands, jamming them into her so that he couldn't pull away this time. At the same instant she ground her wildly tingling cunt down around the thick base of his cock, gripping him and forcing his hardness deep inside her belly.
She felt the long awaited peak coming. She tightened up every muscle in her body in ecstasy. She was one huge knot of tension, every fibre of her being was concentrated on her genitals.
And then he pulled away from her again. Only this time he also pulled out of her. She screamed out in agony and disappointment.
"No!"
But then he was over her, opening a capsule of some sort and holding it under her nose. She snorted it automatically, holding it deep in her lungs and feeling it slam into her body with an impact she could feel as plainly as if she had been hit with a jackhammer.
Then a second punch hit her.
He had hooked her legs over his shoulders, had grasped her ankles and used them as a point of leverage from which to drive his long hard penis into her as far as it was humanly possible to drive. She could feel him inside of her, throbbing and bursting as he came. She could feel her vagina stretched to its physical limit to accommodate both him and his love juice inside it.
Then she felt herself explode. She shuddered and shook. She opened her mouth to cry out in joy and found herself speechless.
She could do nothing but clutch him to her bosom and pull with her feet against the back of his head. Every nerve in her body burned up and crumbled into charred cinders.
Then she passed out.
CHAPTER FOUR
When Tina woke up again, Steve was lying beside her, propped up on one elbow, smoking a cigarette. He smiled at her. "Good morning. Welcome to the land of the living."
"I must have passed out," she said, smiling back at him weakly.
"You certainly must have."
"How long have I been out?" She looked around to see if anyone else was in the room, but no one was.
Nick looked at his watch. "Oh, about an hour, more or less."
Tina looked around groggily. Then she realized she was sitting before Nick totally naked. She looked around for something to cover up with.
Nick laughed at her. "A little late for that, don't you think?"
It was the drugs, Tina knew. He had given her some drug that had made her act that way. Nothing else could have possessed her to act as she had acted. She looked at Nick, ignoring his last remark. "What did you give me?"
"Oh, a little cocaine, and a little of this and that. Great, wasn't it?"
Tina lay back down and digested that information. Now that she relaxed and was used to it, being naked wasn't bad at all. In fact it was rather exciting. She stretched her legs and squirmed across the surface of the water bed.
"What made you change your mind about coming here tonight? I mean, you must have had some idea of what would happen if you came."
Tina looked up at him and smiled, then laughed. "My roommates saw all these bruises," she pointed to the marks along the insides of her thighs. "They refused to believe that they were from horseback riding and spread the most horrible stories about me. And everyone believed them. You should have seen the looks I got at breakfast this morning."
They were both laughing together. Nick pointed at her. "So you figured that you might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, huh?"
"Something like that. I didn't really think anything. I just decided I wanted to come here."
"Figuratively speaking, of course."
Tina laughed at his pun. "Figuratively, and literally." She looked down at his penis. It was pink and wrinkled and very small. It seemed much too small to have filled her as she had been filled.
Nick noticed her expression of confusion and laughed. "What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a prick before?"
"No." Tina felt embarrassed to admit it, but it must have been so obvious that she couldn't have denied it.
Nick laughed again. "It gets much bigger when it's full. Much bigger, and much stiffer - thus the term, 'A hard on.'" Tina laughed again, looking up at him and then back down at his organ.
"Have you ever touched one?"
Tina didn't answer, didn't look at him. So he reached out and took her hand and wrapped it around his flaccid shaft. She squeezed it timidly and felt the pulsing of a vein deep inside, and then tried to drop it. But Nick had kept his hand on hers, and he held her fingers wrapped around the limp tube of male flesh. Then he began to ease her hand up and down his shaft, stopping at the top to gently squeeze her fingers.
Tina felt his penis start to grow bigger and harder. Soon it began to straighten out. She stroked him softly, up and down, massaging his loose flesh, stopping to squeeze and tickle the plum-colored head. She watched in amazement as it continued to grow.
Soon his penis was standing straight up and was as hard as a stick. She was amazed at how huge it was: three times at least the size it had been before she had started rubbing it.
"How many times have you fucked before tonight?" he asked her.
"Once," she answered innocently.
"Would you like to add one more?"
She nodded and opened her legs to him again. This time she kept her hand on his long hard cock as he mounted her, letting go only when he slowly thrust his pulsating thickness deep into her belly. Instinctively, the young blonde reached around behind him as she had felt him do to her and began to caress the crevice in his buttocks.
He guided her hand with his, down past his anus and over his ridge and the seam of skin on his bottom to his scrotum. She reached out and took his sac in her hand and began to stroke it, stopping to tickle the two egg-sized balls she felt inside of it.
He groaned and began to rotate his hotly throbbing shaft inside of her. Like a propeller, she thought gloriously, like a big stiff propeller spinning around inside of me and getting ready to blow me away.
One hand stayed on his balls while the other sought out his anus and began to ease into it. He groaned encouragement as they bucked against each other, pulling with all their mights while rocking frantically back and forth in the age-old rhythm of fucking.
Abruptly, without warning, Tina felt her insides get all soft and wet; she filled with his fluid, with his fluid and hers combined. They came together. Both in ecstasy, holding each other tight.
She tightened the muscles at the base of her hole, trying to hold all their juices inside her as long as possible. He groaned as she tightened around him. Then they collapsed together; totally spent.
They lay side by side, exhausted for several minutes and then Nick whispered to her, "What a remarkable improvement in just one night."
His eyes were admiring her openly. "You are one hell of a lay."
"And you," she tried to respond just as nonchalantly, "are hung like a horse." She wanted to say something else, something that would make him smile and hold her tightly. "What do they call you," she asked teasingly, "Nick the Dick?"
"No," retorted a voice from above them, "Nick the Prick!"
Someone had come into the room while they were making love! Tina looked up and saw Tate of all people, standing directly over her, naked and covered with sweat and semen. His limp penis hung, wet and dripping, directly over her head. A drop rolled off of it and landed on her lips. She tasted a sharp, salty flavor, with a hint of something that reminded her of licorice.
She spat and rolled away from under him. Nick propped himself back up on his arm and lit another cigarette.
Tina glared up at Tate, "What are you doing here? Pretending to be the Red Death?"
"What a wit," exclaimed Tate. "What spunk and fire. You'll make a remarkable addition to our little group." He turned to Nick who was puffing away absent-mindedly, "Won't she Nick?"
Tina looked from Tate to Nick in confusion. "What does he mean?" She stared at Nick who was avoiding her gaze. He sat with his head hanging low and his eyes riveted on a far off corner. "Nick? What's he talking about?"
Tate sat down on the bed between them. She started to roll away again, but he grabbed her and pulled her close to him. "I'd better tell her, hey Nick? You've never been very good at this sort of thing."
Tina noticed for the first time that there was no other noise of any kind coming from the rest of the house. There seemed to be no one else there except Nick, Tate, and herself. But then she noticed the two shadowy forms standing just inside the doorway to the room. Obviously, this had become a very private party while she had been unconscious. She relaxed against Tate's grip, knowing that resistance was futile.
"Now that's much better," Tate smiled down at her, "See how much easier everything is when you act like a good girl? I want you to look at something." He handed her a stack of polaroid photographs. Tina looked at the top one.
It showed her with her legs over Nick's shoulders. Her face was in plain view - the photographer had made sure of that. Her face wore an expression of joy and ecstasy. She was pulling Nick into her. Her hair-lined vagina and his stiffened penis were both smeared with glistening juices. It was obvious that they had been fucking for quite awhile and were both enjoying it tremendously.
"Before you try anything foolish," Tate whispered to her, "I'd better tell you that we used the type of film that gives a negative along with the positive. You may have these for yourself, but rest assured that there are as many other copies as we want to make. But go on. See the rest of them." He pointed to the rest of the stack, still lying on her naked thighs.
The next picture showed Tina on her hands and knees. Nick was crouched behind her, his prick angling out like a fishing rod and pointed at her open ass. Tina was backing against him, trying to drive him into her.
"We also filmed these exploits," Tate continued ominously. "These Polaroids serve more or less as an exposure guide."
"Filmed this?" Tina managed to stutter.
"On yes," Tate replied, "It's really much more impressive on film. You get all the action, the movement, the frantic thrusting and plunging. It also shows indisputably which partner is the aggressor and which the compiler."
Tina had a good hunch which of them would turn out to be the aggressor. In each picture, her face was desperate, yearning for more. Her hands were always pulling Nick closer, cramming him in tighter.
After a few more pictures of Tina and Nick in several different positions came a picture that shocked Tina much more than the others. It showed her spread-eagled on the water bed with someone other than Nick between her legs. This new man was in the process of pumping away at her. Tina seemed to be shouting encouragement at him.
The next showed her with Nick and the new man on either side of her. She was stroking both of their cocks at the same time, trying to arouse one of them. The next showed her with her head buried in Nick's lap. His member was deep in her mouth. In fact, her lips were closed about his shaft like she was trying to swallow him.
In the next she was still eating Nick, but this time she was also massaging herself. Both her hands were buried between her legs while she licked and sucked at Nick's tool.
Then Tina was on top of a third man. While he lay on his back she was stroking his shaft and sliding up and down it. The next showed with her hands clasped under his ass, pulling him into her as far as he would go.
There were more. Tina on her back with a man's head between her legs. Her thighs were clamped around his shoulders and Tina was pressing his face into her slit. Her face was split by a lewd grin. The next picture showed her in the same position but her smile had been filled by Nick's erect penis.
Tina threw the rest of them down. "I don't remember most of these," she remarked calmly, in spite of her near hysteria.
"A lot of them were taken after you passed out," Tate told her.
Tina looked down at all the pictures in chagrin.
"You were quite insatiable." Tate smiled.
Tina dropped the pictures onto the bed between them as if they were poisonous snakes. "You say there's also a film of all this?"
"Oh yes. In sixteen millimeter glorious living color."
Tina looked at Tate in confusion and growing desperation. "Why did you do all this?" she asked.
"We need your help. If you cooperate with us, no one will see these except us. If you don't, a copy will go to your father, to the school authorities, to your church pastor, to your friend Steve, to anyone and everyone who means anything to you. Do you understand?" Tate leaned back on the bed, smiled serenely, "And the pictures make it quite clear that there is no question of rape. You nearly drained these poor boys. All three of them."
Two laughs resounded through the room from the shadowy forms in the corners. Tina understood that the two men in the shadows were the two other men in the pictures. It seemed that everyone in the room had fucked her - everyone that was, except Tate. And she wondered about him. "What do you want me to do?" she asked him, her voice dripping with scorn and venom.
"What do I want you to do?" Tate sneered, "First I want you to lie back while I fuck your brains out." He turned on her and she could see that the pictures had given him an enormous erection.
"No!" Tina screamed and scurried back across the bed. "I'll do anything you want me to, but I will not let you touch me. I'd rather die. Show the pictures to anyone you want to."
Tate studied her for a moment, then relaxed. "All right, my righteous one. We have plenty of time to change your mind. And in the meanwhile, there are many others just as desirable as yourself. No matter what you may think."
Tina hissed at him, "Nothing higher than a worm would let you touch it."
Tate laughed. "What hatred! But we will see how time turns your tune. We will be in touch with you. Do what we tell you to do and your film debut will remain our little secret."
He got up to leave, "I'll leave her to you, Nick," and walked to the doorway, "and to Charlie and Phil. See if you can satisfy her this time." He left.
For a long time there was only silence in the room. Silence and the deep breathing of the two men in the corners. Then Nick turned to her.
"I'm sorry. Really. But everything will turn out all right. You'll see."
Tina smiled at him, seeming to forgive everything. "Don't worry, Nick. I don't blame you."
"Really?" Nick leaned forward eagerly.
Tina reached out to him, beckoning him to come to her. She spread her legs. "Come here and I'll prove it to you."
"You're wonderful, Tina. Really wonderful. I was so afraid that you ..."
Nick stopped talking and gasped out in pain as Tina rammed her knee deep into his exposed groin. He doubled up in sheer agony, coughing and choking. Tina was snarling at him, screaming and cursing. "You bastard. You fucking rotten, dirty bastard!"
Nick rolled over onto his side and struggled to overcome the pain. "A . . . tough . . . bitch . . . huh?" he spit out at her. "Charlie . . . Phil ..."
Tina saw the two men step forward out of the shadows. They each seemed bigger and more muscular than Nick. A bunch of gorillas, she thought in fear.
The two men circled around her so that one was on each side. As they came forward they began to drop their pants. Nick was still struggling to sit up on the bed, but soon he, too, would recover. Then Tina knew that the three of them would have her as long and as hard as they possibly could.
She waited until both men had their pants around their ankles and then she leapt up and smashed Nick in the jaw with her elbow. He flew back onto the bed and she jumped over him and rushed out the door. Both of the men tangled themselves up in their half-on, half-off pants and tumbled to the floor.
"Get her!" screamed Nick, but she was out of the doorway and down the hall before either of them could get back to his feet.
Tina dashed down the long hallway, knowing that she had only a few seconds until the would be after her. There was a stairway to her left. She turned and ducked into it without breaking her stride.
She took the stairs three at a time, down two floors and then she stopped for the first time, to get her bearings. They would search for her here, on the bottom floor, first. So she much either outrun them or find a place to hide. Since she was naked and very tired, and still somewhat dazed by the effects of the drugs, she decided that outrunning them would be futile, especially as she had no idea where they were or what was around this house. All she had seen on the way in had been a huge forest.
So she decided to find a place to hide. She tiptoed down the hall, trying every door she came to. They were all locked. It seemed that whoever had started to clean up after the party and locked each room they had finished. No one seemed to live in the house.
The first door she came to that opened led into an immense room that was totally barren of furniture. She would instantly be discovered in there, so she closed the door again and continued down the hall. There was only one door left. Then a window. Nothing else. If that door didn't open, she would have to turn and retrace her steps. She would have wasted precious minutes.
Just then she heard many sets of footsteps thundering down the stairs. They must have searched the upstairs rooms first and now were rushing down here to catch or corner her. Tina hurried up to the last door and tried the knob. It was locked! She was trapped. She heard the men reach the bottom of the stairs and start toward the hallway she was in.
In desperation, Tina tried the window, but it too was locked. Besides, there was a light just outside it; she would be spotted immediately. She heard Nick just around the corner. In another second he would turn and enter this hallway and see her standing there.
She ran back to the door and pressed herself against it. To her amazement, it gave. Although it was locked, it hadn't been shut tightly. The latch hadn't caught. She slid in the doorway and pushed the door closed behind her just as Nick turned the corner.
She heard him call out, "She's not in the rear hall."
And she heard one of the other's answer, "Try the doors. Shiela might have left one of the rooms open."
Tina slid the latch down, locking the door. Then she pressed up against it, making sure that it was closed all the way. Reassured that Nick couldn't get in without a key, she searched around the room, looking for a place to hide in case they came back to search more thoroughly.
The room was a laundry room, or at least that was what it was being used as. Everywhere there were large piles of dirty sheets - sheets from the party, Tina discovered as soon as she got close to them. Most of them were either very wet or very stiff, and smelled sweet and pungent. There was blood on several of them, and many of the others were tinted and stained in ghastly, unnatural colors. They were probably the sheets from the rooms with the strange torture devices, Tina decided.
Reluctantly she climbed in and buried herself. The sticky drying sperm was all around her; there was no other way she could arrange herself and still be hidden. The sheets at her face seemed to be the wettest and the freshest.
Oh well, she thought, I'm filled with it, so I might as well be covered with it, too. Then she was struck by a strange urge. She knew from the pictures that she most probably eaten it - both Nick and the other man had cum in her mouth. But she couldn't remember that part. Couldn't remember the feeling of sucking on a man. Couldn't remember the taste of his juice.
All she could remember was the taste of that drop that rolled off Tate's limp thing and fell into her mouth. She wondered if that was its real taste.
She reached out with her tongue and licked at a wet spot. A thin strand of semen came loose and hung off her tongue. She slowly drew it up into her mouth and sucked on it. It tasted salty, as Tate had, and slightly bitter. And again there was that slight hint of licorice.
It's probably just my imagination, she thought. But in any case, it tasted good, or at least not bad. Tina wondered if it was nourishing. God only knew how long it had been since she had had anything to eat. She ate some more, but was soon too tired to experiment any further.
She curled up in a tight ball and went to sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tina awoke the next morning to find the whole house empty. They had evidently searched for her and decided that she had escaped. Then they had either given up or gone elsewhere to continue their search. In either case, they weren't there now.
She searched through the room until she found an old pair of jeans and a denim shirt that fit her. She decided to go barefoot; she didn't want to risk going back upstairs to look for her shoes.
Letting herself out through a back door, she headed for the road. But then she heard a car approaching fast. It might be them, she figured, so she ducked into the woods behind the house. She had no idea where she was - somewhere in Dublin she seemed to remember - but she decided to see if she could find a house somewhere. Then she could call and have one of her roommates or someone else from the university come out and pick her up.
Instead of a house, though, she found nothing but trees. Trees. And more trees. Her feet were cut and scraped by thorns and sharp underbrush. Several times her blouse was snagged. Once it ripped down the left side, exposing her skin to the scraping branches.
Finally she came upon a small dirt road - actually it was more of a trail. She decided to follow it to the right to see if it came out somewhere near a house or a store or somewhere else she could use a phone. She was starving and cold, and very, very sore. Her legs and crotch ached from her prolonged intercourse the night before.
Suddenly she heard the rattle and roar of an old vehicle coming down the road from in front of her. It sounded so ancient and so run-down, she decided to take the chance that it wasn't Nick or Tate or one of the others. She stood out in the middle of the road - where she could be seen as quickly as possible - and began to wave her arms. She hoped that whoever was driving would be coming slowly enough or would be driving alertly enough to avoid hitting her and running her over.
The vehicle, an old, beat-up pick-up truck, came hurtling out of the woods a few yards in front of her. The driver slammed on the brakes as soon as he saw Tina, and the truck skidded to a halt, plowing a little furrow into the dirt of the road and coming to a rest a few inches from her feet.
"Good thing I just overhauled the brakes!" the driver called out to her jokingly.
Tina saw that there were two men in the truck, both about twenty years old. They seemed to be farm hands, judging by their dirty work clothes and broad, meaty hands - well-soiled with grease and grime. Both of them jumped easily out of his trunk and walked slowly up to her.
"Hi there," said the driver, "My name's Bill. And this here's my cousin George," he pointed to the other, a shorter, fatter man, much meaner looking. Then Bill turned back to Tina. "You in some kind of trouble?"
Tina looked at the two of them and decided not to tell them the actual truth. She smiled innocently, "Well, to tell you the truth, I'm lost. I was up here last night on a picnic with some friends and we got separated. Now I can't find them or the road. If you could just take me to a telephone ..."
The men had began to circle around Tina, examining her from every angle. They stared at her bare feet.
"You up here all alone last night?" asked the driver skeptically.
"Why yes. I was."
'Where'd you sleep?" he asked. Tina could see that he didn't believe her story.
"I slept, uh, under a tree," she exclaimed looking at the thousands of likely trees that surrounded her.
The smaller cousin, George, had circled around behind her now and was sniffing at her clothes. Tina had never bothered to think about what she must smell like. Her nose was used to it, having spent the night wrapped in sheets soaked with sperm, but to them, out here in the fresh air . . . Tina blushed violently.
"What kind of tree was it?" asked George suspiciously. Tina shifted uneasily. He sniffed again, very loudly. "Never been near a tree that smelled like that before." They both laughed uproariously. Tina blushed even more redly.
"Them your clothes?" asked Bill, pointing to the blouse and pants she had on.
"Yes. Why?" asked Tina.
"Looking a mite tattered." He poked at her ribs, and Tina realized for the first time that the rip in the side of , her blouse had been unraveling. It had grown so big that her whole side was now open; and when the wind blew, the material billowed out to expose her breasts.
George, the younger, fatter one, circled around her again, still sniffing, then stuck his finger up into the crack of her buttocks and flicked it lightly up and down.
Tina reached back to grab him, to stop him, and found her hands covering his over a large bare patch of skin. Her pants, too, were ripped. The two of them could see her entire body, naked and without underwear of any kind, bulging through the rips in her outer clothing.
"Don't wear no underwear where you come from, huh?" asked Bill in delight at what he was watching.
"No," Tina answered, "I mean yes. It's just that I lost them last night."
"And I bet I know just what you was doing, too, when you lost them," screeched George. Again they both broke into peals of laughter.
Tina was beginning to get frightened, but she still thought it was better to stay with them and get a ride to civilization. At least it was better than going back into the woods and risking meeting up with Nick or Charlie or Phil. Or that monster Tate.
She turned to the two men, and politely asked, "Could we please get to a phone? I'm sure my friends are worried sick about me. They've probably called the police already. I'd like to get in touch with them as soon as possible."
"Sure, honey. We'll get you back where you belong just as soon as we can. Won't we George?" They both staggered under their laughter and George gave Tina another pat on the ass. Then Bill climbed back up into the driver's seat while Tina and George went around to the other side of the truck.
George opened the door and motioned to her to mount the high step. As soon as she started to, he placed his hand on the ripped part of her jeans where her buttocks showed, sliding deep into the groove, and pushed her up into the cab. Then he climbed in after her.
Though the cab was roomy, both men were big. And Tina suspected that they were keeping far from the doors on both sides. In any case, she was squeezed tightly between the two of them. Bill reached over across the wheel and brushed his hand along her breast - through the tear in her shirt.
"Hey," called out George, "That ain't fair!"
Bill smiled across Tina at his cousin. "Too bad, boy. I got the side with the rip in it." He laughed tauntingly.
"I can fix that," answered George.
"How?"
Before Tina knew what had happened, George had grabbed her shirt and torn it off her back. She sat between them in the cab, naked from the waist up.
"Now that's a lot better, ain't it?" smiled George and then the both pushed her back into the seat and began to rub and squeeze her breasts with their rough hands.
"She sure do smell like cum, don't she?" asked Bill as he slid his hands down along her stomach, heading for her zipper.
"A regular ' old fuck-face," answered George, "come here fuck-face!" he reached around behind her head and twisted it so that she faced him. With his other hand he unfastened and unzipped his pants. Then he arched up in the seat and wrenched them down around his knees.
Tina saw his penis, short and stubby, like him, but very thick and surrounded by a matt of reddish hair. Then he was forcing her face down, onto him. She clenched her teeth in resistance and felt her face shoved up against his throbbing erection.
George leaned down close beside her, trying to force her mouth around his prick.
"Hey," shouted Bill in anger, "Now who's not being fair?"
"Yeah, but you got the wheel in front of you, so tough shit," retorted George.
"Okay," Bill succumbed, "But I get to fuck her first. And don't forget it!"
George leaned close to Tina's ear and whispered into it "Listen to me, fuck-face," his tone was menacing, more threatening than his tone was menacing, more threatening than anything Tina had ever heard. "Unless you want to end up dead and buried under some big old oak tree out here where nobody'll ever find you, you better be a real good girl. You got that? You be real nice and suck old Georgie as pretty as you can and everything'll be okay. But only if you do a real good job. Okay?"
Tina knew that he was serious; slowly she opened her mouth and let him push his hotly throbbing hardness into it. He thrust himself deep into her throat and then pulled out again.
"That wasn't so good," he hissed.
She covered her teeth with her lips and sought out his head. She began to suck at it gently. He relaxed his grip on her neck and began to breathe heavily. With her hands she reached down and cupped his balls. Then she opened her mouth fully and sank down on him.
Deeper and deeper onto his shaft she slid, until he was almost totally encircled. Her mouth and her hands made one large container in which she had wrapped him up - prick, balls, and all. Then she slowly pulled off, using her tongue to lick him all along his tender under-surface, stopping at the knot of skin and nerves below the head to' nibble gently.
Holding him just outside her mouth, she circled his cap with her tongue, darting quickly at his opening to lick off the drop that had appeared there, sucking down along his rim while stroking his shaft with quick, strong strokes. Then she turned her head and ran her teeth along his shaft, eating him as if he were an ear of ripe corn.
He was moaning and sighing, not believing the pleasure that was coursing through his thick rigid cock and shivering his entire body.
Tina sucked at him again, using the full force of her mouth and tongue to apply pressure to his warmly pulsating penis.
He arched his back and cried out, then grabbed her head and pushed it down onto him until his lust-swollen cockhead was buried deep in her throat. Tina opened wide and pulled her head back off of him. She held her mouth just over his tip, barely grazing it. Her lips were just touching his skin, tickling and tantalizing him with their fleeting touch.
Then he leaned over and cried out, "I'm cumming! Oh you sweet bitch! I'm cumming! Suck! Yeah! Yeah! Like that!"
Tina clamped down on him, sucking so tightly that her mouth fit over his prick like a second skin.
He swelled up and then began spurting warm sperm into her mouth. It squirted back deep into her throat, but she hung on, clamped to him and swallowing each spurt as it came, her hands vigorously massaging his shaft.
At last he collapsed against the seat, drained of every drop he had. Tina continued to lick at him, though, cleaning him and giving him extra pleasure with her tongue. Then she swallowed and licked her own lips clean.
No sooner had she let go of him, though, than Bill grabbed her by the thighs and wrenched her out of the cab. He dropped her roughly to the ground, and began to descend on her menacingly.
As he reached out to rip off her pants, Tina stopped his hands and brought them to her breasts.
"Don't be rough," she whispered, running his hands along her breasts and cupping them over her nipples. "I want you to fuck me. Right now! I'm so excited, come and fuck me. Fill me."
She unbuckled his belt and pulled at his pants. He tore them open and began to step out of them. By the time he had, she had wriggled out of her own pants and was lying naked on the ground, her long legs stretched out before her, rubbing sensually back and forth across each other.
He stopped for a moment to look at her and she saw his blue-veined penis swell even longer and a small pearly drop appear at its tip. Then she reached up her arms to him and pulled him down onto her. He reached under her and grabbed her by her buttocks, pulling her down around his cock.
Tina opened her legs wide and accepted the thick rigid shaft into her. She was already moistened with excitement from sucking on George, and his penis slid up into her without hesitation. Tina wrapped her legs high around his waist and drew him even deeper into her belly.
The whole time she murmured in his ear, "Oh, fuck me. Fuck me. Please make me cum."
He grinned and kissed her wetly, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in rhythm with the thrusts of his cock into her vagina. His penis was big and hard and before long she felt herself beginning to respond to him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and rocked forward and back, squeezing herself tightly around his shaft at every withdrawal, relaxing to let him plunge back in freely and bury himself deep in her vaginal sheath. She felt the wave of electricity wash her away again. Her body tingled and thrilled to his pulsing thrust. She had started to cry out as her orgasm rushed upon her . . . she reached for it. . . reached!
But then' he gave a quick shudder and halted. She felt his cum gushing warm and thick inside her, and then almost immediately his long hard cock began to grow limp. Tina continued to thrust and grind away on him with her pelvis and hips, but his shaft grew too small for even that, and she fell back moaning in disappointment and frustration.
But then George was over her, recovered from her sucking and erect again. He pulled Bill off of her and kneeled down between her legs.
"Time for sloppy seconds, hey fuck-face?" Then he was between her legs and ramming forward, fucking her even more vigorously than Bill had done. Once again, Tina gave herself to him fully, enthusiastically fucking with him, tightening her cuntal muscles so tightly around his thick cock that he groaned and moaned almost constantly.
Tina felt him hot and throbbing in her, pushing deep, stretching her out and around, then pulling out to let her contract and grow ready for the next thrust. She was filled with her juices and Bill's sperm, and so he slid in and out easily.
Suddenly the blonde co-ed felt someone pushing at her from behind, and she and George rolled over onto their sides.
It was Bill. He, too, was revived again and ready for more action. He spread her straining ass-cheeks apart, and she felt a hot throbbing pressure at her anus. The pressure built and then Bill's thick rigid penis began to enter her behind. After her first startled scream, Tina waited for him to complete his brutal sodomizing entry. As she groaned in pain, he rammed forward, burying his thickened hardness to the hilt in her tortured anal passage. Then he began stroking in rhythm with George's thrusts in and out of her ravaged cunt. Tina cried out in surprise and pleasure. It was something she had never imagined - to be filled with two hotly throbbing cocks at once! One in her rectal passage; the other in her vagina. But now, feeling them both in her, both fucking at once, both sliding in and out at their different tempos, she knew that it was something that would rack her body with all the thrills of orgasm like she had never felt them before.
She squirmed wantonly between her two partners and received them both into her and once again her mind blazed, her every nerve seemed on fire.
She reached down between her legs and cupped her hands around each of their slippery cocks, pushing them gently into her, sometimes one after another, sometimes both at once, sometimes softly and slowly so she could feel every inch as it slid in, sometimes down fast and hard so that the impact as it rammed home sent shudders up her spine.
Steadily she fed the two of them into her lower orifices, feeling herself drowning in the sea of pleasure that washed over her. She pressed against their balls, holding them both deep inside of her. And then a voice rang out through the stillness of the forest.
"What's going on here?"
Bill and George tore themselves away from her and turned to look for the source of the voice. They found it in a tall, broad-shouldered man, standing a few feet into the woods at the near side of the road. He was dressed all in black with a dark stocking cap pulled down far over his face so that none of his features were visible.
"Get the hell out of here, mister. This ain't none of your goddamned business," snarled George.
Bill eased his long hard shaft out from between Tina's reddened ass-cheeks and began to get to his feet.
"If that young lady there is accommodating you two against her will, then it's plenty of my business," the man took a step forward, but he still remained cloaked in shadows.
"Well, then, mister, you just bought yourself a whole mess of trouble."
Both Bill and George rose to their feet and began to advance upon the man. He took one more stop out of the woods and left the shadows.
Bill and George saw for the first time that the stranger was holding a .44 Magnum in his hands. Its thick barrel was pointing directly at Bill's gut.
In a flash both men were into the truck. They departed so rapidly they didn't even stop to pick up their pants. Bill gunned the engine and they took off, throwing dirt and mud in a wide arc behind them.
The newcomer walked out of the woods and up to Tina, putting his gun back into its shoulder holster. "I was driving up just as you ran out of the house, young lady. You looked as though you might be in trouble, so I followed you as best I could. Luckily, I found you when I did."
Tina was still on the ground, with her hands between her legs, unsure of what had happened. She knew only that once again she had been interrupted at the moment of climax, and she felt ready to burst open.
She rocked back and forth on her pelvis and looked up at her savior imploringly. She wasn't interested in the fact that he had saved her, wasn't interested in who he was or what he did or why he had been going to that house or what he wanted from her. She was only interested in the fact that he was man and had a penis. She knew what she wanted from him.
"Please. Please. Come here. Fuck me. Oh God! You can't leave me like this."
"But..."
"Don't talk. Please. I can't stand it. Fuck me. Oh God."
"I'm sorry, miss. But I think you've been drugged or something. I couldn't take advantage of ... "
"Oh shit!" she screamed and searched with her fingers, probing into the layers of silky hair and soft skin until she found her sensitive clitoris. She stroked it wildly while holding it between two fingers - manipulating it as if she was masturbating a tiny cock.
"Oh. Ohhhhhhh," she moaned as she spiraled up, struggling to satisfy herself. With one hand she continued to rub her clitoris while the other searched out the entrance to her vagina and began to work there - opening herself wide, letting the juices trapped there flow out, then closing herself again, adding to the stimulation on her clitoris.
She arched her back and threw back her head, breathing in short, shallow pants. She thrust her fingers deep into her cunt and began to stroke her cervix and stretch the muscles along the sides and walls.
Her clitoris started throbbing and pulsing like a miniature vibrator. Her fire-filled cunt became as tight as a vise around her inserted fingers.
Lying there spread out on the ground. Naked and golden. Hair strewn along the leaves. Face glowing and flushed with the blood-pounding rhythm of sex. Tina was irresistible. A goddess in golden flesh.
The sun streamed down through the tops of the trees, making her skin smooth and flawless and white; she seemed like an ivory statue, carved to honor some long lost goddess of carnal desire.
Her center, the focal point of her being and her attention was her wetly throbbing cunt. Rounded, soft, moist and glistening in the diffuse light. Surrounded by the downy golden fuzz that formed her perfect triangle. Spread open to the world, all wet and pink and tender, begging to be kissed and held and penetrated. It was a treasure no man could resist.
Not even the well-intentioned stranger!
Tina became aware of her savior standing over her. She opened her eyes a little to look up at him and saw with surprise and joy that he no longer had any clothes on . . . that his penis was fully erect, that it was big and thick and beautiful! She reached out to him and helped him down on top of her.
He took one of her erect little nipples in his teeth and sucked at while spreading her legs wide to receive him.
He impaled her tight little pussy on his massive penis and within seconds the naked teenager was screaming in joy as her cock-filled cunt exploded into millions of satisfied fragments as she came after so much time and so much effort. But it had been worth the wait, for he drove her on to a height of rapture she had never reached before.
He fucked her for what seemed to be hours, until she climaxed so many times that she no longer remembered that she was tired or hungry or sore, until she no longer remembered anything but sex and the fantastic feeling of a hotly throbbing cock inside of her, filling her with love.
And not for one second did she believe she was still under the insidious effects of the drugs. Not for an instant, for she knew what she was feeling was real . . . and this was the real Christine Kremer . . . the real "Christy the Creamer."
CHAPTER SIX
A week passed and Tina heard no word from Tate or anyone else as to what strange task she was supposed to perform in order to insure the secrecy of the Halloween night. She had decided that Tate was a quack and a liar - that he would continue to try to use the pictures to force Tina to fuck him.
She sat in her room alone one night. Both of her roommates had gone to a pep rally for the Ohio State football team - number one in the country again. Tina had had too much homework to do, and so had stayed home.
She sat and tried to think of a way to obtain the pictures that Tate had taken. She had resolved that she would stop at nothing to get them - not burglary, not arson, maybe not even murder - if it was Tate's murder.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Tina called out. No one answered. "Come on in. The door's open," she called out again. But there was still no answer. She heard a door slam far down the hall.
Thinking that, if this was some upper classmen's prank, she would throttle them, Tina got up and walked over to the door. Opening it, she found a small package with a note on it. She took it inside her room, carefully closing the door behind her. When she was sure that the door was locked so that no one could burst in on her, Tina opened the note and read: Christy Creamer: Take this package to the lobby of the Buckeye State Bank. Leave it under the convenience desk next to the North wall. Do this tomorrow between one and two in the afternoon. Do not let anyone see you or know what you are doing. Do not tamper with this package in any way! Carry out these orders and all will be well. Love, Your cameraman Tina read it over several times and then put a match to it and held it over the ashtray until it had burned to ashes. The ashes she crushed and threw out the window. Then she sat down to think about what she had been told to do.
Tate obviously had not lied to her. He was part of a group, and she would be blackmailed unless she did what he told her to do. That meant that there almost certainly was a film. Tina knew that she had no choice; she would have to go along with Tate. She would do almost anything to keep that film from getting into the wrong hands.
Tina figured that Tate was part of a drug ring. This seemed especially true since Nick - that bastard - had given her so many different drugs during that party. This package was probably filled with drugs and she was to leave it in the back for some connection to pick up.
So Tina was to be the delivery person. Well, it wasn't as loathsome a task as some of those she had imagined during the past week. But it was dangerous. She decided to do it, but to be very careful.
* * *
The next afternoon at precisely one-thirty, Tina walked into the Buckeye State Bank and up to the convenience desk. She put the package she had carried in with her under the convenience desk and then fumbled with her purse for several minutes, pretending to look for her check book, then for her wallet, then for her money.
Finally, she clapped her hand against her forehead and said, quite audibly, "Oh, no! I left it in the office!" She turned and hurried out of the lobby. Once out in the street and out of sight of anyone in the bank, she turned and ran back to the campus.
The entire episode had taken less than five minutes. Not bad, she congratulated herself, not bad at all. Her first task had gone off unexpectedly well.
* * *
That night, as she sat in her room, doing homework, the television set, turned on softly as background noise to aid her concentration, suddenly shocked her to an extent she would have never believed possible.
The eleven o'clock news had come on and the lead story was about an explosion in the Buckeye State Bank. A bomb had gone off, blowing out the North wall and injuring several customers and bank employees - some of them critically: The time of the explosion was 2:05.
Credit for the blast has been claimed by an organization calling itself the Bullmoose Army. In a letter addressed to the Columbus Citizen-Journal, a spokesman for the Army, calling himself "The Colonel", said that the blast in the bank is only the first of a long series of attacks designed to impress upon the government the desperate need for social change and the Army's total dedication to that cause.
As to what specific kind of social change the Army advocated, the letter said only that it involved a return to Christian principles and common sense. Further communications would contain detailed and explicit directions for implementing the Bullmoose program.
Just as the story concluded, the phone rang.
Tina woodenly moved over to answer it. She was instinctively sure that it would be Tate or one of his accomplices.
"Hello," she said weakly.
"Hello, Christy. Just thought you'd like to see our latest rushes."
"My name is Tina," she stammered. Their latest rushes, she thought, intuitively understanding what that meant, but not wanting to believe it.
"Not any more it isn't," the voice on the other end of the line continued, softly but diabolically, "Your Army name is Christy. Christy Creamer."
"What do you mean, my Army name?" Tina asked, scared but indignant at the way they were pushing her around. "What army am I . . . " "Cut the crap, Christy," the voice ordered, "And be at 14 Demmend Street in an hour." The caller hung up without another word.
* * *
The cab ride led Christy/Tina to an old warehouse section of the town, near the riverfront.
"You sure this is where you want to go?" asked the cabbie in disbelief.
"Yes. I'm sure this is the place."
Christy paid him and walked up to the dark, seemingly deserted building that bore the address she had been given. The cabbie waited in the street, thinking that she was either suicidal or crazy, but figuring that she'd soon need a ride in either case.
Seeing nothing else to do, Christy walked around to the side of the building, waved jauntily to the driver and then slipped out of sight around to the rear of the warehouse.
As soon as she rounded the last corner, and disappeared from the sight of the cabbie, a hand reached out and clamped over her mouth, suffocating her scream. Another hand reached under her arms and pinned her close to the body of whoever was behind her.
"That was very good, Christy," the man who was holding her whispered, "Now close your eyes and come with me."
She was led into a large empty room at the back of the warehouse. As soon as the door closed behind her, someone started a projector. An image of her walking across a stretch carrying a small box flashed onto the screen set up at the far end of the room.
Without waiting to see the rest, Christy knew that it was a film of her taken that afternoon as she had planted that bomb unsuspectingly in the Buckeye State Bank.
Sure enough, the camera zoomed in to a close-up of her through the window she had stood in front of. The film showed her put the box beneath the desk, showed her going through a long series of obviously phony actions and reactions, showed her kick the box a little further under the desk, and then showed her leaving hurriedly. The camera followed her out of the bank as she turned and ran down the street. Then it returned to focus closely on the box. The film stopped for a moment and then started up again, still focused closely on the box.
The screen went white. When the smoke cleared, the rubble of the bank could be seen everywhere and several bodies were scattered across the floor of the bank and the sidewalk. The bodies were twisted into agonizing postures.
Then suddenly the scene shifted.
Christy was lying on a large water bed. She was totally naked and writhing in expectation.
Two men lay down next to her and began to suck her breasts while they caressed her inner thighs and stroked her naked vaginal furrow. A third man entered and Christy reached languidly up and took his cock into her mouth and began to suck it while urging the other two men to speed up their manipulations of her. When the new man had an enormous erection she guided him down between her legs and wrapped herself around his upper chest and back.
With her own hands she spread her vaginal lips wide and thrust herself up against his straining member. Then she cried out in joy and began to pump against him while holding the two other men against her breasts.
"All right. Cut it!" the man next to her called out. She recognized the voice.
"Tate!" she called out in shock and surprise, but then she added sarcastically, "or should I call you 'Colonel'?"
Tate smiled, "You may call me Tate. And welcome to our little group, Christy. You are one of us now, you know. You have no choice."
Christy nodded slowly, in resignation and despair. She was one of them, she knew. Tate had won. She was totally in his power, for he could send her to jail for years any time he chose to do so.
Tate put his arm lightly around her shoulders and led her towards a door in a far back corner.
"Come on," he ordered. "We have some things to talk about. And I know just the place."
He led her through the doorway and into an immense room filled with people. The air was thick with smoke from every kind of smokeable thing. There was only a dim lavender light shining through the room from a back wall without really illuminating anything.
When she strained to see through the dark, hazy room, Christy could see row upon row of tables with large groups of men around each. The tops of the tables were filled with empty glasses and overturned bottles and ashtrays filled to the brim and overflowing with the burned out stubs of cigarettes and cigars and pipes and joints.
"Conventioneers," Tate whispered in her ear, "Here for a good time."
Tate led her to a table in the far back, behind all of the other tables and other men. He ordered to drinks from the waiter who appeared almost immediately.
And then, just as he leaned forward to say something in a whisper, the blonde co-ed saw his eyes narrow dangerously.
"I'll be back in a moment," he said. "Stay here." Then he disappeared. A second later the lights went out . . .
CHAPTER SEVEN
When the lights went back up in the room, Tina discovered that she was alone at her table. She looked around in confusion for Tate or someone else she might recognize as a member of the group, but she saw no one.
What, she wondered, was she supposed to do now? Go back home and wait for further orders from the army? It didn't seem logical that they would have called her all the way here, showed her the film so that she knew that she was totally in their power, then made her sit here by herself in an almost all-male convention. It seemed that they must have had some other motive for bringing her in here and sitting her down in this place. She wondered what it could be.
As she sat wondering, a man walked up to her and stood, watching her deep thought and evident confusion.
"Pardon me, miss, but you seem to be in some difficulty."
Christy looked up and saw a tall, thin man, about forty-five, standing before her. He smiled at her warmly.
Christy smiled back hesitantly. She wondered if this new stranger was part of the Army, or part of their next task for her. She didn't see Tate watching her from behind a column a few yards away, smiling in self-satisfaction.
"Is there something I can do to help you?" the stranger inquired politely.
Christy didn't know what to say. She wondered if it would be safe to talk to this man. "I'm not really sure what's going on," she managed to stammer out.
The man sat down next to her, in the chair vacated by Tate. "You didn't come here alone, did you?" he asked, with a questioning glance at the dim surroundings and the raucous men at the nearby tables.
"Oh no," Christy hurriedly answered. "I came here with someone." She looked around at the men and tables around her, then across the huge, dark room, trying to see into the deep shadows but failing. "Only, I'm not sure what happened to him."
"I see." The man smiled. "A most delicate position." He leaned forward across the table, facing Christy directly and looking deep into her eyes. His face and features seemed very reassuring, very trustworthy to the frightened Christy. "Shall I escort you home?" he asked.
"Oh no, I couldn't ask you to do that," Christy protested.
"It would be no trouble whatsoever." He took her arm gently. "It would be an honor."
Christy wanted to giggle at his treatment of her, but the young blonde co-ed didn't resist as he stood and helped her to her feet. Then he took her arm and led her to a side door.
What the hell, thought Christy. I've got to get out of here somehow. And he is the nicest person I've met in weeks.
She followed him through the door and outside. She didn't see Tate as she passed him. Nor did she see him smile and nod approvingly. Nor did she see him signal to two other men standing with him in the dark shadows. The two men followed Christy and the stranger out.
They walked toward the street, he leading her slowly and protectively.
"My name is Albert Graham," he said.
"My name is Christina Kremer."
"I'm delighted to meet you, Christina."
No one had ever called her that before. She liked it. She liked this man Graham. They walked on toward the street.
"What do you do for a living, Mr. Graham?"
"Please, call me Graham, but not Mister Graham, all right?" he laughed good-naturedly.
"Okay. What do you do, Graham?" Christy laughed too, glad to be with this man.
"I work for I.T.T." he answered.
"Really?" Christy exclaimed, "As what?" She had seen books in the book store about I.T.T. - something about its operations and interests. She didn't know exactly what. She hadn't been interested in things like that. However, that was before she had met Graham. She resolved to go to the library and learn everything she could about the company and its men.
"I do a little bit of everything, actually," Graham explained to her, "I'm what you might call a trouble-shooter."
"Then what were you doing in a place like this?" Christy asked in disbelief. He just didn't seem like the type.
Graham looked down at her with amazement. "I might ask you the very same question."
Tina looked away in embarrassment. Yes, he very well might ask her the same question. And she knew she couldn't answer him. They walked in silence for a few moments, then Graham spoke.
"As a matter of fact, I was told to come here tonight if I wanted to obtain some information about a project I'm working on. Mysterious anonymous caller and all that. It seemed awfully suspicious and unproductive, but I can't afford to pass up the slightest possibility, as my caller probably knew. So I came and it turned out to be a waste of time as I had thought it would." He looked down at her admiringly. "It was a waste of time, that is, until a few minutes ago." Christy smiled and squeezed his arm in thanks at the compliment. "As for your being there..." She looked up at him in alarm, wondering if he was suspicious, if he had guessed her secret, "I shall just consider it one of the inexplicable mysteries of nature."
Christy hugged him. She felt relieved and secure, attached to this strange, calm man with the air of unthreatened authority.
They walked until they came out onto High Street, one of Columbus' main arteries.
"Now where am I taking you?" Graham asked.
"Haskins Dormitory," she answered, somewhat sheepishly.
"Are you a student?"
Christy nodded in reply.
"Unbelievable! I would have taken you to be much too old for that," he exclaimed in amazement. He looked at her wonderingly.
"Actually," Christy told him before she really knew what she was saying, "I'm only seventeen." She didn't know why she was being so honest with Graham. But somehow it seemed like the right thing to do. It was just a feeling, but it had taken hold of her.
Graham stared at her in wonder for several seconds and then shook his head. "Well then, that just makes you doubly mysterious." He turned to flag down a passing car, then turned back to stare at her. He examined her closely, paying particular attention to her firm, generous breasts, her well-endowed hips and posterior, her long sleek legs, barely covered by the short dress she was wearing and looking precious and delectable as any legs he had ever seen anywhere. She was a queen, this girl before him, a ripe and budding queen of womanhood.
"Incredible," he murmured, "and yet, you're young enough to be my daughter."
Christy knew that that was true, but she also knew that she felt like anything but a daughter to him.
And she genuinely was sad when he dropped her off at the dorm without making a pass ... or a suggestion that they meet again . . .
* * *
For the next few days Tina, or Christy as she thought of herself now, didn't hear from either him or the Bullmoose Army. She led the life of any normal student - going to classes, washing her hair, studying, watching as Ohio State whipped one opponent after another while heading for the Rose Bowl again.
She considered writing another letter to Steve, telling him what she thought of him and his betrayal of her, but she decided not to. It would be better to wait until she saw him again in person. Then she would let him know just exactly how she felt.
Mostly, though, she thought about Graham, and to her surprise, she found herself fantasizing about what it would be like in bed with him. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted it, she yearned to make love again.
One day she came home from classes to find another package lying on her bed. How it had gotten in her room she didn't know. The folded note on its top was addressed to her.
It read: Christy Creamer: Another birthday present. This one is to be delivered to the Christopher Inn. Go around to the employees entrance and ask for Jack. Give him the package and wait for him to pay you.
The F.B.I, has been called in on the bombing of the Buckeye Bank. Rumor has it that they are interested in a film taken at the scene of the crime. They've been tipped off that one exists, but they don't know where to find it.
Yet.
Business booms, huh?
Love and kisses, Uncle Nick P.S. If you spoil the wrapping on this package, it will become worthless. That might be an explosive situation, if you know what I mean, so don't do it.
Christy took the package and gingerly walked out of the dormitory. She walked along the Olentangy River for a long time, trying to decide what to do.
On the one hand, she was to deliver the package to another person this time, so it might not be a bomb, or if it was, someone else would at least be responsible for planting it.
But on the other hand, something told her to go straight to the police and tell them the whole story. It would probably mean prison and disgrace, but at least then she wouldn't have this hanging over her head all the time, torturing her.
She wavered back and forth like that for an hour, and then she remembered Graham, and she knew that she could never turn herself in. She knew that a man like that could never forgive a bomber. Not a man with as much propriety and dignity as he had. And she knew also that she would do anything to avoid having him hate her or reject her.
She had thought that she had loved Steve, but that had been an immature infatuation compared to what she felt now for Graham. It wasn't even so much a sexual attraction that she felt for Graham - though she did want him in her more than anything in the world - it was more of an emotional and intellectual attraction.
No, the only thing for her to do was to carry out her assigned tasks as quickly and efficiently as she could so that she could be through with Tate and all his henchmen as soon as possible. Then she would be free to pursue something more important.
Then she would be free to pursue Albert Graham.
She went to the Christopher Inn.
* * *
Jack turned out to be the janitor, or maintenance Engineer as his name tag stated. He took the package from her and told her to wait for him where she had found him - in a work closet on the fourth floor. Then he left with the package.
Christy cleared off a spot for herself on a bench near a vacuum cleaner, some brooms, and rows of Windex, Ajax with Ammonia, and Liquid Plumber.
To pass time, she counted the bottles, saying "he loves me", "he loves me not" after each one. Ajax said he loved her. Windex said he didn't.
When Jack finally came back, he was carrying some clothes over his right arm. He had a glass filled with a clear liquid in his left.
"Here," he ordered, offering her the glass, "Drink this."
"What is it?" asked Christy, suspicious, remembering all the drugs she had been given by these people before.
"It's water," said Jack with contempt.
"But I'm not thirsty," Christy told him, still suspicious.
"Who said anything about being thirsty?" asked Jack angrily, "Just drink the goddamned stuff, and hurry up about it."
Christy took the glass and sipped a tiny bit of liquid into her mouth. It tasted like water - no bitter taste or any other strange feelings.
"What the fuck are you doing?" shouted Jack, "Drink it and then put these on. And get your ass in gear. You're going to visit a friend, and we ain't got all day."
"Who am I going to visit?" asked Christy.
But Jack wouldn't say anything else; he just stood at the door with his massive arms folded across his chest.
Christy chugged down the rest of the glass and then examined the clothes. There was a pair of high heeled black shoes and a pair of black net stockings. Also a very thin and slinky black negligee with a sheer, see-through top. At the bottom of the stack was a pair of crotchless panties. Inside the panties was a mask that fit over Christy's face perfectly - covering everything but the mouth. There were two half-silvered mirrors over the eyes so that she could see out but no one could see in. An aluminum grill covered the nose.
So. She was to go to some room in this hotel and fuck somebody for Tate. The package had been merely a ruse to get her into the hotel. And there didn't seem to be anything she could do about it either. Jack wasn't about to let her out of the room until she had gotten into the clothes. Then he would assuredly escort her to her liaison.
Well, she had been fucked by Steve, Nick, two or three more of Tate's henchmen, Bill, George, and her savior in the woods. One more certainly wasn't going to kill her. She began to unbutton her blouse.
As she slipped it off her shoulders, she saw that Jack was staring at her intently. She decided to give him a show. She dropped the blouse and slowly reached behind her back and unhooked her brassiere, thrusting out her proud young breasts as she did so. When at last the brassiere dropped, her fleshy mounds were like large, rounded melons, soft and sweet with her nipples like two chocolate points.
When she undid her skirt and let it slip slowly down her hips, she swung her pelvis in a great circle, easing the skirt over it. As it dropped to the floor between her feet, she thrust her hips forward so that her vaginal mound would be clearly evident under her tight white panties. Languorously, she rubbed her hand upward along her thighs and caressed her prominent cuntal lips, drawing one finger slowly along her slit so that the panties were pushed into it and lay creased and indented.
She saw that Jack was about to burst his pants in front - a huge lump was standing stiff and rigid against his zipper. Christy smiled. It was clear that he was under strict orders not to fuck her. The customer obviously didn't want sloppy seconds. She decided to make the most of it.
Slowly she reached around behind her and took the elastic waistband of the panties in her hand. She drew them down an inch at a time, uncovering her soft matt of corn-silk pussy hair, then at last, the glistening pink flesh of her cuntal furrow. She raised one leg to slip the panties off of it and as she did so, Jack found himself looking directly at her gaping vaginal mouth. It was fluted and open, waiting to be plunged into. Her long, golden legs formed a perfect pathway leading up to its sunken delights.
Christy dropped the panties and then stood with her hands on her hips, breasts thrust forward, hips and pelvis rotated back so that her feminine groove was in plain sight, taunting him.
Jack watched in open lust as Christy lay there, breathing heavily, the flush in her cheeks and breasts making them look full and ripe and ready for eating. He looked down at her cunt, moist now and ready.
"Goddamned if I don't think I'd give anything to fuck you right now. But I got my orders, you little prick teasing bitch. Now you get into those clothes in a hurry before I belt you one."
Christy put on the slip and stockings, fastened the mask around her face and stepped into the black heels. Then she was led to the door.
As they passed a mirror, Christy stole a look at herself. She looked as sexy as Delilah. And she was so veiled and hidden, her own father wouldn't have recognized her.
Wouldn't that be a terrible situation, she thought, if they were leading her in to fuck her father. She doubted whether any man could resist her now. She looked at her breasts and her golden mat of pussy hair where it showed in the crotchless portion between her legs. Christ, I almost turn myself on!
Jack leaned close to her and whispered in her ear, "Now listen, you little bitch. Walk up to Room 625. Go up the back stairway. And don't say a word to the man that you find there. Let him get his kicks! But you shut up! Understand. Not one single word. Do that and then come back down here. We'll have something to give you. Something you want very badly. But only if you keep quiet. Got that?"
Christy nodded.
He opened the door and let the blonde co-ed out. She slowly crept over to the back stairway and up to the sixth floor, praying that no one would see her She knocked softly on the door to Room 625.
"Come in," a deep voice called.
She opened the door and went inside.
And then Tina thought she would die, for sitting there in a black satin dressing gown was Albert Graham himself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Graham was sitting down in a recliner. His hair was combed back from his face in a high arch. He was smoking a pipe. When he saw Christy standing motionless at the door, he waved impatiently and commanded, "Come in. Come in."
Christy entered the room. At first she thought that Graham must know who she was, that he had been told beforehand, or that he would surely recognize her. But then she realized that he had absolutely no idea who she was, and wouldn't have any idea unless she told him.
She started to speak, but then stopped. Jack had hinted that if she kept quiet she would get the film back. It all seemed perfect. Here was the one man in the whole world that she wanted with a passion and she was about to get him.
Not only was she to get him, but she could be as wild and abandoned as she wanted to - in fact, should be as wild and abandoned as she wanted, to give him more enjoyment. And her reward for making love to the man of her dreams would be the end of her blackmail. And Graham would never know a thing about it. She could come back to this room the next day or even later that very night and meet him as Tina Kremer. It all seemed to good to be true.
"You were about to say something?" Graham asked her politely.
Tina jumped back into reality. She shook her head without saying a word. She wouldn't - couldn't - say a word. Her voice was the only thing that could give her away.
She walked over to the bed and slowly removed her shoes. One at a time she dropped them to the rug and sat with her legs crossed, her long thighs in the tight black net stockings looking like the lean flanks of a leopard. She smoothed the sheets with her hands and then pulled down the covers and lay back, hair strewn across the pillow, arms spread in a welcoming embrace. She saw Graham looking at her, studying her with evident satisfaction and desire.
His eyes wandered from her gilt mask, down the front of her nightgown. They lingered on her breasts, clearly visible through the sheer lace. Then they continued downward, past her stomach and hips, to her open crotch. His eyes riveted on her nakedly exposed vagina, and so she languidly spread her legs a tiny bit so that he could see into her hidden recesses.
She opened her legs and brazenly offered herself to him. He got up and walked over to her, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her head. He began to stroke her forehead, reaching back to massage her scalp with his strong, firm fingers. He ran his fingers down through her hair and then bent down to kiss her.
From the next room came a soft cough. Tina jumped in surprise and fear.
"My bodyguard," Graham reassured her. "He won't disturb us."
What does he need a bodyguard for, Christy thought to himself. But then Graham was over her and she stopped all thought except of sex.
He gently laid her down on the soft sheets and straddled her. He was kinder to her than anyone had ever been before - rubbing her head, stroking her hair, running his fingers down her neck and back and across her waist. He settled in between her legs and then eased his warmly pulsating penis inside her gaping cuntal opening.
She hardly knew when he entered her, so gently was his approach, but suddenly she felt him inside her, big, hot, and powerful, and full of a throbbing life.
He didn't take any of her clothes off, so she lay back on the sheets, still fully dressed. Her breasts strained to burst through the thin black veil of lace, her body covered by the clinging negligee, her legs sleek in their black net stockings - curling and uncurling about his waist as he pumped in and out of her shamelessly aroused cunt. Even her buttocks, hips, and pelvis were still clothed. But the tight panties she wore, pulled flat and taut across her skin, were open at the vital point, and he drove himself into that opening, splitting her lush pubic bush and sinking deep into her softly yielding flesh.
It was like a tiny oasis, that small patch of pink pussy and golden hair, like a warm juicy oasis, and his thick rigid cock wallowed in it. She was tight and wet and her hot little pussy clung to his penis like sponge. She was a snapper, squeezing his pulsating hardness till he thought it would burst from the pressure. She was a snake, swiveling her hips in rhythms that brought delight to his cock from all directions at once. She took his hand and brought it down between her legs, rubbing it against her clitoris until he found the right spot and began to trigger her. Faster and faster she rocked, squeezing him into her and then easing and letting him slide out while circling around him in wide, maddening circles. He wasn't even moving now, just receiving the greatest fuck he had ever had in his life.
She rolled him over and pushed him down onto his back, then sat straddling him and pumped herself up and down on his tool like a jackhammer, plunging up and down on his oiled shaft like a wild driving piston gone mad.
She squeezed him so tight that he felt as if his penis would be pulled right off at the base. He was practically crying the pleasure was so great. Every instant felt like it was the physical limit, then the next moment he would soar higher. She dug her hands under her and took his balls in her palm and rubbed them along her ass-cheeks and over the base of his cock.
Then she whirled around so that she was facing away from him and took his sperm-laden balls and ran them up and down her cuntal slit, holding them against her clitoris and stroking them with her nails.
Without warning, she felt herself exploding inside like a Disney World fireworks display. Then Graham, too, started to climax. His balls tightened up into a hard knot and she used this to vibrate her trigger. She sank all the way down his long shaft and settled flat against his thighs. She felt him shudder, felt the wildly jerking pulse as his jism traveled upward through his penis, and then she felt him spurt inside her, all hot and thick and she grabbed his muscular buttocks and pulled him in tight against her, drove him into her even further.
Her teeth chattered against each other as she felt her own orgasm burst upon her. She was jolted by a shock of pleasure, coursing through her veins to pummel her brain. Then, even before she had completed her first, another climax assaulted her. She tensed and felt a wave travel up from her feet, through her legs and her spine, up her neck and her scalp to encircle and inflame her brain.
The blonde co-ed's crotch felt as if it was on fire and being put out by a thousand tongues, all filling her at once. She moaned and swooned, dizzy, feeling his heated load of sperm deep in her womb, her feminine flesh impaled on his lance.
Tina leaned down to hug him, and suddenly she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything. She felt something pop inside her mind, and like a black wave washing over body, she lost control of everything. She was completely paralyzed.
Graham noticed something wrong immediately. He looked up at her and asked, "What happened? Did I hurt you in some way?"
When she didn't answer, he slowly lifted her off of him and laid her down beside him. Christy was aware of everything that was going on, but she couldn't respond to it in any way, couldn't talk, couldn't smile, couldn't even wink.
Graham examined her closely, felt for a pulse and checked to see if she was still breathing. When he found that she wasn't, he immediately called for his bodyguard and started to give her artificial respiration.
To do that he had to take off her mask. Christy watched helplessly as he lifted the silver and black covering off of her. She watched helplessly as he stared in open shock as he recognized her next to him.
Then she began to drift into unconsciousness.
Oh God, she thought as she felt the world fading away from her, I'm dying. Dying like this. She couldn't believe that it was really happening, and in such an ignominious way. The drink that Jack had given her had been drugged after all. She knew that that was what was causing her incapacitation; some drug they had given her. And she would die. They wanted her to die like this ... in this wonderful man's bedroom.
Christy's last thought was a vivid imagination of the headline her death would make in the morning's papers: COED DEAD IN EXEC'S BED Oh God! It would kill her father.
* * *
When Tina awoke, Graham was hovering over her like a wartime nurse in a field hospital. She tried to talk to him, tried to explain about what had happened, but he quieted her every attempt.
"Ssssssh. Be still. The doctors have told me everything. You were drugged by some exotic poison. They barely discovered it in time. It almost killed you." Graham looked down at her in warm sympathy.
He got up off the bed and began to pace the room. "As for what happened last night. The doctors told me that you probably didn't even know what you were doing. And in any case, you couldn't help or stop it. The whole affair is insidious. As soon as you're better, we'll find those responsible and make sure they pay for their acts. But for now, you need rest more than anything, and so I'll leave you until you've had time to sleep and recuperate."
He was standing directly over her as he said that and Christy reached out and took his hands. She pulled him down close to her then whispered in his ear.
"You're wrong about one thing. I did realize what was happening." She looked up into his eyes. "And I don't regret a second of it."
Then she pulled him to her mouth and kissed him deeply. He resisted her for a moment, but then he gave in to her pressure and opened his mouth in response.
They kissed long and hard and then he looked down at her with a strange gleam in his eye - half delight and anticipation, half amazement.
"I'll come back in a few hours. When you've rested."
She nodded, understanding what he meant, knowing why he would come back so soon.
* * *
Christy wondered what to do. Tate had surely discovered by now that she didn't die in Graham's room as he had wanted her to. Would he come after her? Or would he just give the film to the police or the F.B.I.? Christy didn't know what Tate would do. And she didn't know what she should do. And so she did nothing.
Graham came back and they spent several hours together in bed, as she had known they would. No one had ever made love to her the way he did. It drove her wild.
Often they would lie for hours at a time without moving in any way, just him inside her, filling her with his pressure. She would gently squeeze him with rhythmic pulses to keep him and her on the verge of orgasm. They would extend their pleasure through the night, hour after hour of building orgasm until finally she would clench him tightly with her muscles and they would explode into each other.
Other times she would sit on top of him and spin slowly from side to side, feeling herself twist around him and keeping herself on the brink indefinitely. They seldom got out of bed. They seldom needed to.
When Christy was finally recovered, he brought her some clothes to put on and then took her shopping. He bought her outfits at expensive stores: dresses and skirts and blouses and hats and a coat and shoes and sheer stockings and panties and slips and a maternity bra with small patches over the nipples that could be undone and peeled down.
Christy tried the bra on in a dressing room and Graham slipped inside. He slowly peeled down the patches and bit into her, sucking at her nipples until she giggled and squirmed, telling him to either fuck her then and there or quit teasing her.
Then they went to a dark, quiet restaurant for dinner.
After they had eaten, Graham lit his pipe and leaned forward in his chair. He studied Christy closely, then asked her, "Who drugged you, Christy?"
She looked at him in surprise. "I don't know. How should I know?"
"Well how did it happen? Surely you must have seen the man who gave you the drug."
Christy looked at Graham, trying to decide if he was interrogating her or merely trying to help find her "assailant."
"I don't know who it was. I was in my room studying and there was a knock at the door. I went to see who it was. There was a man there, about six feet tall, I think. I had never seen him before. As soon as I got the door open, he reached in with a handkerchief and covered my nose and mouth. I tried not to breathe, but I finally had to. I passed out. When I woke up again, I was standing outside your door. Someone was holding me by the arms. They knocked. I heard you say 'Come in.' Then the door opened and I walked in. I couldn't speak or think or do anything." Christy looked at Graham coyly. "When I saw how I was dressed, I knew what I was there for, though. I thought that maybe you were responsible for everything. That you had arranged the whole thing to get me into your bed.
Graham blushed and looked down at his plate. She smiled, "I wanted you too, so I decided to let you have your way." The co-ed paused, letting the memory of that evening return. "You know what happened after that." Tina looked frankly at Graham, wondering what he would ask next, sure that he believed her and accepted her innocence. She had seen him blush during her story and knew that she had him on the defensive. He had probably been thinking of having her all along and had been guiltily surprised when he had discovered that his dreams had been answered.
Graham waited for awhile, digesting what she had told him. Then he asked her another question. "Do you know anything about the project I'm working on currently?"
"No," Christy answered truthfully, "What is it?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you that. It's very top secret."
"But what does it have to do with us? And with what happened?" Christy wondered whether Tate was mixed up with Graham in some way that she could only guess at. She wondered whether or not to ask Graham about the Bullmoose Army, but decided not to. Not until she had that film.
Graham didn't answer her question. He sat deep in thought for a long time. Then he finally came out of it and reached across the table to hold Christy's hand.
"You're going to stay with me from now on. To make sure that you stay safe."
Christy smiled at him and ran her tongue across her lips. "Is that the only reason?" she asked.
"No." Graham replied, smiling also. "There are others."
* * *
Their life went eventlessly onward for almost a week. Christy would drive to classes accompanied by one of Graham's bodyguards. The bodyguard would wait for her until school was finished, then drive her back to their suite.
At night she would study for a few hours and then wait impatiently for Graham to finish with his business. Then they would dive into bed. Together they would make love endlessly.
When they tired of fucking, Graham would spread her legs and nibble up her thighs, slowly nearing her ripe and fertile valley. He would lick and suck and bury his face deep into her sensitive flesh, feeling the damp folds surround his mouth and yield pliably to his tongue and teeth.
She would rotate and take his hotly throbbing cock in her mouth and devour it, sucking it like a lollipop, then attacking it as if she meant to chew it into mush.
Together they would climax, heads buried in each other's loins, legs wrapped around each other's necks, bodies clutched together, wracked with spasms as she flooded his mouth and he flooded hers. Then they would kiss, and mingle juices, and cover every opening with a hand or a tongue, pressing themselves together like two adjoining pieces of a puzzle. They would roll over each other until they were both slippery and wet and then they would cover each other with kisses and licks, and wrestle and struggle until he had her on her back on the bed, pinned helplessly, unable to move in any way. Then he would penetrate her again and again until she couldn't stand another climax, until she would scream for mercy or pity. With an evil grin he would plunge himself into one last time, wracking her with the force of his thrust. And then his wildly jerking cock would explode inside her and they would collapse.
Once she awoke and found that he had an erection in his sleep. She lay back down and began to massage her breasts while stroking her clitoris vigorously. She continued playing with herself until she was wet and quivering with excitement. Then she pulled the covers back and straddled him, slowly easing his thick upstanding organ into her moistened hole.
Arching her back and sliding up and down his stiffened pole of flesh, she rode him, biting her lip to keep from crying out in joy. She rose and fell, her cunt tight and well-oiled around his firm piston.
She felt him grow bigger and harder, felt him swell and pulse.
At the last moment, she dug her nails into his chest, waking him just as she felt herself drowning in the flood of passion.
He woke up and came the very next moment, bursting into her like a broken hydrant.
Christy watched his face as his expression of alarm and confusion changed into one of pleasure and fulfillment. Then she was lost to all thought and all sight as she felt his hot surge inside her.
She settled firmly down on his slickened shaft and felt herself suck him deep into her. She wished she could suck him all the way in, wished she could absorb him into her and carry his warmly pulsating cock around deep inside her belly forever.
When she finally slept it was with his penis still inside her, her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands cupped over his balls, her tousled blonde hair on his chest.
CHAPTER NINE
Christy walked into her English class one day and almost screamed out in shock. Sitting in the desk next to hers was Nick. She looked around the room and quickly spotted Charlie and Phil and a couple of Tate's other henchmen.
Nick got out of his seat and motioned for her to follow him to the back of the room. She followed. There was nothing else she could do.
"Tate wants to see you tonight," Nick hissed at her, making sure that no one else could hear them.
"Where?" Christy, too, looked around. She didn't want anyone else to see her talking to him.
"At the place by the river. You remember the address?"
"Fourteen Demmend Street," she replied, very nervous.
"That's it." Nick started to leave. The others also headed for the door.
"Why does he want to see me?" Christy reached out and grabbed Nick's arm to stop him from leaving.
Nick grinned at her, stroking her hand where it lay over his arm. "He's very upset that you didn't fulfill your end of the bargain. He wants to give you one last chance to earn back your film.'' Nick squeezed her hand and turned to leave.
Christy watched him, wondering if what he had told her was the truth.
"Be there at seven-thirty," Nick hissed back over his shoulder, then walked past her. He smiled at her in an obviously threatening way. "Or else."
Then they were all gone and Christy was left alone in the room with the unknowing students. The professor was lecturing about past participles and past perfect tenses. Somehow, Christy couldn't get very interested.
* * *
After dinner that night, Christy told Graham that she had to do some intensive studying at the library. Graham called for the bodyguard to drive her, but she protested, saying that she would rather walk.
"It's such a nice night. And I haven't been getting any exercise at all lately." Christy walked up to Graham and wound her arms around his neck. "I'm afraid I'll get fat. And you wouldn't want that would you? I want to stay lithe and slim. For your sake as well as my own."
Graham laughed in response. "I doubt if you could ever be fat, no matter what you may do. But all right. For my sake as well as your own, get some exercise. I'll expect you back in a few hours."
"Okay." She grabbed her coat and her books and walked to the door. "Will you wait up?" she asked with a gleam in her eye.
"Sleep will be impossible without you," he answered and laughed.
She blew him a kiss and left.
* * *
She met Tate in the same place. He smiled as he admitted her through the back door.
"Christy the Creamer! I haven't seen you in a long time. Not since you dropped out of my class a few weeks ago. Where have you been hanging out?"
Tina glared at him. "None of your business. As if you didn't know anyway."
Tate leaned forward and grinned. "Well, play ball with us tonight and your Mr. Graham will need never know about your sordid past."
"What do you want me to do?" Christy backed away from him, she wasn't going to let him get too close - not until she knew what he wanted from her.
"One of our fuck show girls has come down with pneumonia. It seems the poor girl wasn't dressing properly." Tate laughed uproariously. Then he reached across and grabbed Christy's arm. "We need a replacement."
Christy stared at him in shock. "You want ... me ... to go out there in front of all those men, those conventioneers. .. and .. . and ..." she stammered, but couldn't say anything more.
Tate just smiled in answer. He reached behind the table they were standing at and pulled out a bottle of vodka. "Here. Have a shot. It'll make things much easier."
"More drugs?" Christy asked slyly.
"Not this time." Tate unscrewed the cap and poured some of the clear, potent liquid into two glasses. "Nope. No drugs this time. Would spoil your performance." He offered one of the glasses to her. "Besides, what difference does it make at this point? You know you're going to do whatever we tell you to."
Christy smiled ruefully. He was right. She would do anything he told her to do. Anything to get that film back. She smiled and chugged the glass in one swallow. "Anything to make it a little easier," she said.
"That's the girl," Tate answered. He poured her another stiff shot and she drank it too. Then he poured her a third. "Cheers!" he toasted as she lifted it to her mouth.
"Cheers," she responded and downed it.
She was led over to the wings of the stage and several hands began to unfasten buttons and unzip zippers. She was pushed down into a chair and told to relax while her blouse and bra were slipped off her shoulders and pulled down her arms.
Two pairs of hands lifted her off the chair and a third pair of hands pulled her pants down around her knees. Then the hands reached up and slid her panties down too. They lingered long enough to caress her gently, then she was lowered back to the chair while her pants were slipped off her feet.
She sat totally naked in the dimness of the tiny wing and waited. Soon the hands returned and she was dressed.
Looking down, Christy saw that she was being costumed as an Egyptian harem girl, with several layers of diaphanous veils and slips, a large ruby-colored gem in her navel, and bright silky scarves around her throat and shoulders.
Someone leaned close to her and whispered in her ear. "You're a harem girl, see? Your supposed to dance out onto the stage. Slowly. There'll be music, so keep time to it. When you get to the center of the stage, dance there for awhile."
That was all the voice said. She didn't think to ask what she should do after that. She didn't think to ask any questions at all. She felt the vodka rushing to her head. She remembered the night with Steve. They had picked the right drink all right. A little vodka would make her do anything. Anything!
Then a spotlight split the darkness and flashed onto the floor of the stage a few feet from where she sat. Several hands grabbed her and lifted her to her feet, guided her to the edge of the pool of light.
"All right, now dance!" someone hissed to her, and she was shoved out into the light.
The audience broke out into wild cheers and whistles as soon as they saw her. She heard clapping and pounding, but couldn't see anything. The spotlight blinded her eyes totally.
Her costume swished seductively as she danced slowly in time to the music. She knew that the men in the front rows could hear it too, so she moved more forcefully so that the soft sound of her slips rubbing against her thighs and stomach carried out into the audience.
She reached down and lifted her hem so that she could spin freely.
"Higher! Higher!" a voice called from the audience, "Let's see it all baby!"
Christy ignored him. She had a feeling that they would be seeing all of her soon enough. She danced toward the center of the stage, her slips swishing with every step. Her unbound breasts swinging in rhythm with her. She shook her hair away from her face and one of her straps fell off her shoulder. The whistles from the audience sounded deafening. Christy wondered how many were out there watching her. She had never had sex of any kind before an audience before - at least not consciously, she amended, remembering the film - but she was fairly sure she was about to. Would it be a man or a woman she would fuck? Or would she fuck them? Maybe there was some other experience in store for her.
Her thoughts were interrupted as first one, then another, then several pairs of hands wrapped themselves around her legs and arms and torso and lifted her up off the ground. She was lifted high up into the air and then carried in a tight circle around the stage. Christy couldn't see who had her, but she could feel their hands on her body, could feel the rhythm of their movements as they circled with her high above them. She relaxed and slumped down into their grip.
They finally lowered her onto a small table of some kind. It only supported her body. Her legs and arms dangled down over the sides. Christy realized that her crotch was exactly on the edge of the table and she began to feel an itching sensation there, began to feel herself moisten in readiness for whoever or whatever would penetrate her.
Then she was being tickled with long, soft feathers. They swept over her face and neck and down her throat. Two of them circled her breasts, stimulating them like no touch had ever stimulated her before.
Two came up her legs, stroking the insides of her knees and thighs, lingering in long caresses, making quick brushes across her pelvis and down into her crotch.
Goose bumps rose all over Christy's body and she shivered with delight. Her nipples sprang out, bursting through the thin material over them to gleam in the bright light.
Piece by piece, her clothing was lifted from her accompanied by more sweeps of the torturous feathers. Christy lay on the table, totally naked and shivering in expectation, aroused to a fever pitch by the hands and tormenting tickling.
Her fever pitch was driven even hotter a second later when a dozen mouths closed over her body. Rows of teeth descended along every muscle in her legs and arms, tongues darted over her breasts and into her ears and between her legs. Christy opened her eyes for an instant to see a dozen women all around her, all sucking or biting or kissing or licking. One woman smiled up at Christy and then brought her mouth up to Christy. Her tongue was thrust deep into Christy's mouth and circled there, expertly touching and probing every erogenous zone.
Then Christy closed her eyes and succumbed to the mass arousal. All the mouths started heading toward her navel, converging on that zone. Christy moaned out loud and began to writhe on the table. She couldn't stand the torment much longer. She wanted someone, anyone, to bring her to the peak.
She opened her eyes again and saw the women, twelve in all, all beautiful, all naked and perfectly built. They were all at her navel, kissing it while rubbing their breasts across her body.
Then two of the women separated from the group and slid into the space between Christy's legs.
"Yes. Yes," she cried and spread her legs wide to let them at her. The two women began to eat her. One concentrating on her clit while the other drove her tongue along her groove and into her cunt.
Christy thought she would go mad. The two tongues were flaying at her like whips, lashing her into fits of arousal. Then the other mouths were all over her - on her breasts, on her throat, on her arms and legs and feet and cunt and clit. A tongue was thrust deep into her mouth and it plunged and stroked her. Another tongue was thrust deep into her cunt, where it too stroked. Then a third tongue was thrust into her anus.
Christy came several times, one after another like a rapid fire machine gun, crying out and twisting under their assault, grasping heads and pressing them into her body. Reaching up to kiss and bite anyone who would come to her mouth.
Then there was a lessening of the attack.
Christy opened her eyes again to see a naked man standing over her, his penis standing out before him like an immense war club.
Christy reached up and took him in her hands, bring his cock down to her. She wrapped her fingers around it, rubbing it over her breasts, caressing her nipples with it, smoothing her skin with its tip until several drops of whitish fluid appeared.
She wiped those off with a finger and brought them to her lips, sucking them off with a loud slurp and sighing as she tasted and swallowed his precious fluid.
She kissed it, taking the crown gently into her mouth and wrapping her lips around it tightly. She sucked in, so that the pressure bound her mouth to him like a second skin. He groaned and she smiled and tensed her mouth, flicking at his tip with her tongue.
Then she took him and used his wet tip to draw circles around her lean, flat stomach. She drew a line across the tip of her pelvic bone, then traced the path lower, down into her bush, brushing his wet and throbbing tip along her silky matt, sliding it into her groove and along her lower lips. She took it to the gateway to her womb and then she held it there and tensed her cunt muscles so that he felt her clamp down around him like a vise, but as fast as a machine press.
Christy was quivering with expectation, but she kept him there, at her golden lips until he couldn't stand it any more and begged her to let him have her.
Slowly she lifted her legs up. Higher. Higher. Tightened against his desperate plunges until she had her legs wrapped over his shoulders. A dozen mouths were still fastened on her breasts and throat and face and arms. A straining cock was throbbing at her lips, two tongues still danced across her clitoris.
Then Christy screamed and opened before him. He drove his thick rigid cock home with all the force of an earthquake. She purred deep in her throat and gurgled in joy as he filled her with his power.
She tried to lean forward, to kiss her wonderful cockman, but she was held back. She opened her eyes and saw that someone was stepping over her.
Her head was pulled back down to the table and she closed her eyes and waited. Waited while she felt a pair of legs straddle her head. Waited while she felt a body lower itself until it hung suspended a few inches above her mouth. Waited while the strong scent of sex wafted into her nostrils to excite her even further.
Christy could hear the audience going wild and she knew that her show was pleasing them. She knew that her body was driving twelve women, a man, and an entire audience half crazy with lust.
Without looking, Christy reached up and planted her lips firmly on the body she found there. She planted her lips and then thrust her tongue deep into the warmly perfumed cunt she was kissing. Deep into the vaginal flesh, spreading it wide with her lips and sweeping her tongue along its sides, Christy sucked the women above with reckless abandon.
While the man plunged in and out, pumping her with his massive cock, while mouths sucked at Christy's breasts and throat and clit, Christy ate her first pussy.
She found the woman's clitoris and held it between her teeth, biting it and vibrating it as fast as her teeth and tongue would move. The woman shrieked with pleasure and reached down to grab Christy's head and pull it deeper into her. Her legs were wrapped behind Christy's neck, holding her head high, and the woman stroked Christy's cheeks and lips while guiding her mouth and tongue over her fleshy cunt and into her most secret spots.
All the time, Christy was being fucked like she had never been fucked before. The man in her was a machine, a fucking machine. His stroke was endless, his long hard cock like a throbbing engine, driving Christy before it in one ceaseless orgasm.
All three of them were moaning. Christy wrapped her mouth around the woman's cunt, blowing air into her hole, sucking her clit, licking her pussy from one end to the other, sucking up all the sweet juices that poured out and ran down Christy's face. Not a drop was wasted. Christy wished that she could stay there and drink that wonderful nectar forever.
Again and again she came, shaking each time like a leaf in a storm. The woman above her came too, quivering like a violin string and flooding Christy with her come.
The man finally came, too, pulling out of Christy and shooting his sperm over her in a huge, graceful arch which flashed in the bright spotlight and landed on Christy's face and breasts with a splat. Christy grinned and licked it off her chin and cheeks, relishing each mouthful and pulling him up to her so that she could lick him off.
She felt another hot hungry mouth at her cunt, sucking out her come and licking her clean.
Then the three of them collapsed from exhaustion, falling over against each other for support. They lay in a heap on the table and then kissed each other, long and deeply, their three tongues intertwined like a seaman's knot.
Then the light went out and they were pulled off the stage.
* * *
Christy lay on the floor of the dressing room for a long time, covered with sweat and sperm and saliva, not moving, not talking, hardly even breathing. Never had she had an experience like that in her life. She was still half crazy with desire. Her multiple orgasms had made it impossible for her to even think. She had been literally fucked out of her mind.
Now she was drained. Helpless. She lay on the floor with her legs dangling uselessly before her. The cool air of the room felt wonderful as it swept across her naked body. She sighed in utter relaxation and contentment.
Suddenly the door to the room burst open. Graham was standing in front of her. He was livid and breathing heavily, as though he had been exerting himself tremendously.
He looked around angrily and then saw Christy lying stretched out on the floor. He ran over to her and bent down to see if she was all right.
"Hi there, Gram," she managed to whisper to him, though she was too tired to speak very loudly. "What're you doing here?"
He looked down at her ruefully. "It seems to me that we went through that once before. Do you remember? We decided that the question could more appropriately be put to you." Graham looked around for something to cover Christy with. "What has happened here, Christy? Why did you lie to me?"
Just then Tate entered the room. He stood inside the door and watched for several seconds, then spoke. "Well, well, well. Look who's here." Tate's voice cut through the stillness of the room like a cleaver. "Come to pay us another little visit, hey Mr. Albert Graham?"
Graham whirled to face Tate. Christy tried to follow what was going on, but all she could do was to lie naked on the floor and watch.
Graham advanced a step toward Tate. "Who are you?" he demanded, "and what is your connection with this girl? If you're the one who's responsible for what's been done to her, I'll ..."
"You'll what, Graham?" Tate sneered at him, confident of his position and power in this situation. "As for me, you may call me Colonel."
Tate laughed as he saw Graham's face drop. He was delighted with the effect his revelation had had. "As for this little girl," Tate continued, "she had merely served as our pawn. A pawn to lure you into our little trap." Tate laughed, and as he did several men stepped into the room from behind him. They fanned across the room, surrounding Graham and cutting him off from the door and from Christy.
Graham retreated until his back was against the wall, the men in a wide circle around him. "Well then, let's have it out here and now." He crouched and readied himself for their charge.
Tate laughed again. "Now that she's got you here and you're trapped, do you think we're stupid?" Tate shook his head no, continuing to laugh. "Oh no. Why charge you and risk injuries? That would be dumb. It's much simpler to do this." Tate pulled a gun from his pocket. Without waiting a second, he aimed it at Graham's chest and fired.
Graham never had a chance to move. The shot rang out in the dim, quiet room. It echoed from wall to wall, deafening, like an explosion. Graham clutched his chest and bounced back against the wall, then collapsed in a heap. No sooner had he crumpled to the floor in a pile, then Tate fired again into his back.
The body shuddered and then lay perfectly still.
Christy couldn't hear anything but the noise of the two shots, but she saw Tate gesturing to the men around him, telling them to dispose of Graham's shattered body.
She saw the men pull Graham's body along the floor inches from her face. She saw his white face dragged past and out the door. Saw Tate standing and watching the job done. Saw him ordering them around and snouting at them and waving his arms furiously.
And then she fainted . . .
* * *
They took her to the house in Dublin and put her in a room on the upper floor. Most of her time was spent reading and staring out the window. She sometimes went for walks, but it was winter now, and too cold most of the time. There was no radio or television in the house and no one brought in papers, so Christy couldn't follow the news. She decided that they had probably arranged it that way so that she wouldn't be upset by reports of the search for her. Still, she wondered how long it would be until they gave up the case and it would be safe for her to return to school and her friends and her father. She felt very lonely. But they did let her take walks . . .
A few days later, Christy was walking through the woods behind her house of imprisonment. It was a cool, crisp winter day. The air had a wonderful, invigorating chill to it that made Christy feel more alive than she had in a long time.
It had snowed heavily the night before, and snow now covered the ground. Christy left fresh tracks behind her as she plodded, through the drifts, feeling the drag against her legs.
Suddenly she heard someone calling to her from behind an oak about fifty yards away. Christy had learned to be cautious in the last few months of her life, and so she circled away from the oak, keeping a clear path back to the house at all times. Once again the voice called out.
"Come here. It's important."
Something about the voice sounded familiar, as if Christy had heard it somewhere before. But she still kept her distance.
"Please come here. It's about Graham. I need your help."
Christy was still suspicious, but her curiosity was aroused. Who was this mysterious stranger who knew Graham? She casually walked over toward the tree, still keeping a path to the house and still keeping a slight distance.
"Who are you and what do you know about Graham?" she asked out loud, resolved that she would not go a step closer until her questioner showed himself.
"Graham is alive and in danger. I need your help to find him."
Christy's heart leapt into her throat. Graham alive! But how? She started to run toward the tree but then stopped. How did she knew this wasn't just another trick? A trap, like so many of the traps she had fallen into recently. She wasn't going to fall into another trap so easily.
But still, who could know about her connection with Graham? And if this strange person meant her any harm, why didn't he go to the police? She decided to trust the voice. It was a chance to find out more about Graham's fate. Besides, at this point, she had nothing more to lose, no matter what happened to her behind the tree.
She walked slowly up to it. The voice coached her. "That's it. Act naturally. Someone may be watching. Just keep coming toward me. Natural! Be calm. Now bend down as if you're picking something up. That's it. Now look at it. Examine it closely. Good. Now walk over behind the this tree and squat down."
Christy did as he told her. As she rounded the tree, she saw a man bundled up in a gray overcoat and heavy boots, seated on the ground with his back to the tree's trunk. From the looks of the snow piled up around him, he had been sitting there since before the snowfall, that was since the day before. Christy wondered how anyone could sit outside in the freezing cold, covered with snow for twenty-four hours. And she wondered why they would do it.
"Who are you? And what do you know about Graham?" she asked suspiciously. The whole incident seemed too strange to be real.
The man looked up at her and Christy saw that it was her savior from the woods. With a rush of relief and joy at seeing him again, she flung herself into his arms and hugged him tightly to her. He stood up and helped her to her feet again. Then he shook himself off and shivered. He seemed very cold. His skin where Christy had kissed him had seemed like ice.
"Who are you?" she asked, him, "Do you live around here?"
The man laughed. "As a matter of fact, no. I live in Florida of all places." He laughed again and shivered more.
Then what are you doing up here all the time?" Christy asked in wonder.
"Well, I live in Florida when I'm not working on a project - which is very seldom lately. Brrrrr." His body shook, trembling like a wet dog. "It sure is cold up here. I've been sitting in this spot for about a day and a half now--waiting for you to come out and take a walk. I had expected you to be out yesterday."
"I was going to," Christy told him, "but the snow changed my mind."
"Yes. I figured it would. Of course, by then it was too late. Once the snow started I had to sit it out and wait, hoping that sooner or later you'd come out."
"What do you mean?" Christy asked him, confused as to why he would have to sit in the cold snow until she came out.
"Otherwise," he answered looking cautiously toward the house and its unseen occupants, "I'd leave tracks." Christy still looked at him uncomprehendingly. "Well that would ruin everything. They search the ground all the time, you know. If they found my tracks they'd be packed up and cleared out of here in an hour.. . so," he continued, moving closer to her and smiling teasingly, "I've been out here waiting for you all this time. Don't you feel flattered?"
"I guess so," Christy answered, still not totally sure of what was going on. "Who are you?"
"My name's Robert Collins. But if what you're really asking is why I'm afraid of them finding my tracks and why I know so much about Graham and you, then the answer is that I work for the C.I.A."
"What do you have to do with Graham?' Christy demanded.
"Graham also works for the C.I.A. In fact, we were working on the same project together. But now they've kidnapped him and are using him as leverage to get what they want. Political ransom."
"Then he's alive!" Christy exclaimed.
"We think so. He's being held a prisoner somewhere."
"Well, he's not in there," Christy said, she was still stunned by the news of Graham. "But how can he be alive? I saw him get shot right in front of me. Twice. Right in the heart both times."
Collins looked at her thoughtfully, "I can imagine they shot him with tranquilizers-. To put him out. Graham's a top man, very tough in a clinch. They'd want to make sure they had him safe and secure."
Drugs, thought Christy. She should have known. Of course they would have drugged him. Tate had even said . . . Tate! She must tell them about Tate!
"The head of them is a man named Tate," Christy exclaimed excitedly, pulling at Collins' coat to make sure he listened and heard what she said. "He's the man who shot Graham. He's the one who organized everything."
"Who? Tate? Professor Tate? He's just an underling. A strutting megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur."
"Then he's not the Colonel?" asked Christy, unsure of whether to be relieved or disappointed that Tate was not nearly as important and menacing as she had thought him to be.
"Oh no. He's more like a major. But we think we can use him to get at the leaders. Through you we can work our way up the chain of command and apprehend the Colonel."
Christy had a fair idea of what he was asking her to do. "In other words, you want me to use my body to gain his confidence." She looked directly into Collins' eyes, hoping that he would contradict her, tell her that he wanted no such thing.
"Yes. That's what we want. Will you do it?"
"Yes." Christy said it before she even had time to think.
"Good girl." Collins congratulated her with a pat on the back and a hug. "Glad to have you on the team. Now then," he went on, suddenly all business, "You say neither Graham or Tate are in there?"
Christy shook her head.
"Well I didn't really think he would be. They're much too clever for that." He thought for a minute, deciding on courses of action for everyone involved. "Tell you what you do then. Get in good with Tate - you know what I mean - nothing too obvious though - attach yourself to him, make yourself indispensable. We want you to go wherever he goes, to be with him always. See what you can learn. Don't worry about us. Either me or another agent will be in touch with you soon." He paused for a second, "And whatever you do, don't let on that you know about Graham. That will tip them off and ruin everything. Now, you got that?"
"Yes." Christy replied, excited by the prospect of her undercover work.
"Good."
He reached across and brought her head close to his, then kissed her lightly on the lips. Christy responded to him. He looked at her for a second, then brought her to him again and kissed her hard and long. "I've never forgotten that day in the woods back here," he said with an obvious smile. "And Graham probably spends all his time now remembering the nights he had with you." He kissed her again, then pulled away with a sigh. "Now I'll tell you what we're going to do ... " He stood in front of her with his feet planted wide apart. "Now step onto my boots," he ordered. She did. "That's the girl. Now hang on!" He put his arms around her waist, holding her tightly to him, and then began to walk away with her on top of his boots.
"I've been thanking God for these G.I. cold weather clothes, but if I don't get out of here soon, I'm going to freeze, heavy clothes or no heavy clothes."
"But why are we leaving like this?" Christy asked in wonder.
"So we'll only leave one set of tracks!" he whispered in her ear. "I'll walk you to the road. Then you can get off and walk back to the house yourself. And we'll only leave one set of tracks the whole way!" He tapped the side of his head and winked at her, then continued on toward the road, Christy riding happily along on his feet.
CHAPTER TEN
It was two days before Christy saw Tate but when she did, she made the most of it. So convincing was her performance of contrition and awakened sexual longing for Tate, that he made arrangements for her to leave with him.
"Where are we going?" Christy asked as soon as they had gotten into the back seat of a large grey Mercedes. In the front seat were Charlie and Phil. Charlie was driving, watching Christy lecherously in the rear view mirror.
"To another little house I keep," Tate answered her, "It's more remote that this one, so there's less chance of our being intruded upon."
"That's fine by me," Christy murmured and leaned over to kiss Tate in the ear, breathing, softly on his neck while running her hand up and down his pants leg.
Tate smiled and looked over at her. "I knew you'd come around eventually," he said in self-satisfaction.
"And you were right," Christy cooed. "As soon as I got alone and really thought about it, I realized how I had let our first impressions get in the way of what was really there." She smiled at Tate.
"And I've always known that you were a remarkably intelligent girl," Tate replied. They lowered themselves into the back seat and began fucking, while Charlie watched through the mirror, narrowly avoiding accidents several times when Phil shouted at him or grabbed the wheel.
* * *
Christy was again put in an upper bedroom, but she did her undercover work diligently, learning from the cook that someone was being kept in secret in the basement - meals were taken down there twice a day via a back stairway.
Christy went out into the backyard and learned, after taking the gardener into the garage and giving him a quick, but excruciatingly pleasurable blowjob, that they were in between Galena and Westerville, just off Route 3 near the Hoover Reservoir.
From a beautiful young girl Christy waylaid, and serviced, in an empty bedroom, came the information that six people regularly stayed at the house. Five of them were men. Three of them were always armed.
One of the armed men traded five minutes in Christy's pants for the information that there were two cars in the garage, the Mercedes and an ultra-fast Porsche, outfitted for speed and rugged handling.
At the end of her first day on the job, Christy had learned everything she needed to know, except for the identity of the mysterious person in the basement. Was it Graham, or Mr. Big, the Colonel? She decided to find out.
She managed to be standing outside the kitchen when the man assigned to delivering the evening meal to the basement arrived.
Christy was wearing a nightgown, open to the waist and drawn up high on her fabulous legs. Her hands were on her hips and her nipples, thanks to some cold water splashed on them a few seconds earlier, were erect and protruding through the sheer fabric of the nightie.
"Hi," she whispered, rubbing her hands along her upper thighs and stretching her entire body languorously, "We haven't met before. I'm Christy." Her tongue darted out between her teeth, sweeping across her lips in a slow sensual arc, "Christy the Creamer."
The man looked at this gorgeous female standing before him a few seconds. He stared at her curvaceous thighs and the firm, muscular delta where they met. He stared at the tops of her breasts, lush and ripe and aroused, poking out through the nightie and crying to be bitten and sucked. He stared at Cathy and lost all interest in his job.
"I'm lonely," Christy whimpered, "Would you come up to my room for awhile?"
"I was supposed to do something," the man hesitated for a second but couldn't pass up this opportunity. No man could have passed her up. "But oh hell. He can wait awhile." He grabbed her arm and grinned. "Show me the way."
As soon as Christy got him in the door she was upon him, tearing off his clothes, wrapping her soft warm mouth around his rapidly swelling cock and kneading him with everything she had. She worked her nightie up around her hips and circled around so that she could back her scented and powdered pussy into his face while lying on top of him and devouring his throbbing prick.
She worked her hands up the back of his legs and stuck her outstretched middle finger deep up inside his anal passage, feeling inside him for his prostate. She flicked it back and forth, triggering him into a violent orgasm. But even as he was cumming, she was renewing her assault, keeping him hard with her mouth and hands while she worked him up to another climax.
Again he shuddered and came, gripping Christy by her hair and tugging her head to and fro while he shouted and moaned. The blonde co-ed smiled as he slumped back in exhaustion.
"What was it you had to do?" she asked innocently, knowing that there was no way he would have enough energy left even to get up.
"I was supposed to take some food downstairs," he grinned up weakly. "But man I feel drained!
Christy laughed. Then she ran her fingers along the inside of his arms, sending a shiver up through his spine. "Why don't I do it for you?" she asked coyly, "Then you can rest up for when I get back."
She winked at him and waited for his response. She didn't have to wait long.
"That's a great idea," he smiled broadly and sighed in relief and anticipation. "Go down to the kitchen and tell the cook that you're filling in for me. He'll tell you what to do. By the time you get back, I'll be ready for some more fun."
"I'll bet you will," Christy grinned and bent down to gently kiss his now-spent cock. She squeezed it between her teeth and tongue while whispering, "I want to see you up and at attention when I come back." Then she hurried out of the room and downstairs.
The cook gave her the meal on a plate and showed her the back stairway. Slowly Christy descended, wondering with every step whether she would find Graham at the bottom or someone else. She barely breathed as she scampered down the steps, taking them two at a time.
When she reached the bottom, she paused and then knocked lightly on the door which lay like an oaken barrier across the bottom of the steps.
"It's about time, for Christ's sake," a voice bellowed. "Come on in. The door's open."
Christy looked at the door in shock. The voice certainly wasn't Graham's. She hoped it was a guard. Then she steeled herself and went in. The room was large and dark, being totally underground. A light was on over a desk in a far back corner. The only other light in the room came from a television set against one wall. Harry Reasoner was on, delivering a report about Washington corruption and defense spending. In front of the sofa, on a sofa bathed in shadows, sat a short, dark man. He was smoking a cigar; it's glowing tip punctuated the silence with a brief flare.
Without looking at her, the man motioned toward an end table in front of him. "Put it down there." Christy looked wildly about the room. There could be no doubt; Graham was not there. This then must be Mr. Big. The Colonel.
Slowly Christy walked over to the end table and set the tray with the food down on it. As she bent over, the man on the couch noticed for the first time that it was not his usual delivery boy with the food.
"Hey... what the hell?" he called. "What happened to Chico?" Christy blushed and quickly tried to think of an explanation for her substitution. "Not that I mind the switch ... I don't mind at all. I'd rather look at you "any day of the week." The man smiled at the almost naked girl then looked her over carefully. "What's your name?" he asked her.
'
Christy." she answered. "Christy Creamer."
"Ah yes. I've heard a lot about you," the man smiled amiably. "How long have you been here at headquarters?"
"Just one day," Christy answered. She looked back at the man, returning his open gaze just as openly. She had decided that the way to play this scene was with innocence. "What's your name?" she asked, as if he were just another member of the group.
"Crowley. John Crowley," the man looked at her and paused for a second before continuing. "I'm also known as the Colonel." He studied Christy, waiting for her reaction.
"Really?" she asked, her eyes gleaming like a groupie who had just been introduced to Elton John.
"Yes. Really." They stared at each other for several seconds. Then Christy stood up, brushed off her skirt and turned toward the door.
"Well, I'd better get back to the kitchen," she said and started for the door.
"Wait," Crowley called out. "I'm giving a party tonight. A very special and private party. I'd like you to be there." He smiled, looking at her legs, then up to her breasts. "Dress casually. I'll pick you up in half an hour. Be by the front door."
* * *
As soon as Christy entered the front door of the house where the party was being held, she was grabbed by four women who had been hiding behind the door waiting for her.
They led her into a dining room and pulled her up to a massive oak table.
"Here," one of them said, handing her a tall, frosty glass, "Drink this."
Christy did.
Then the four of them pushed her backwards onto the table and began to strip off her clothes. One of them grabbed at her blouse, undoing the buttons with one long rip and then peeling the sides back from Christy's breasts. She had come bra-less and so her two mounds with their coppery nipples shone in the dim candlelight.
A second woman had pulled off Christy's shoes and was now removing her pantyhose from her feet. A third woman had unsnapped Christy's skirt and was tugging it over her hips. The fourth had Christy's panties and with one snap she had them off and on the floor across the room.
Christy lay stretched out on the dining room table, full naked, less than sixty seconds after she had stepped through the front door.
"Well," she exclaimed in amusement, "That's some welcome!"
Another woman came through a door behind Christy. She carried a large wooden tray on which were several lengths of rope and a ripe bunch of bananas.
The ropes were distributed to each of the .women, and before Christy could protest, they had grabbed her, one to each leg and arm and the fifth behind her head. Christy's legs and arms were tied to the corners of the table so that she lay across it, spread-eagled and tied so securely that she couldn't move a muscle. Another rope looped loosely - but not loosely enough to slip - around her throat and forehead. She was bound hand and foot to the table, a helpless feast waiting to be devoured by the guests.
The woman with the tray set it on the table between Christy's legs and took one of the biggest bananas in her hands. Slowly she peeled it until only the ripe white fruit was left. Then she began to caress Christy across her pelvis and along the insides of her thighs.
Each of the women took out a tray of fruits. There were peaches, oranges, avocados, and plums. The women took the fruits and cut them into halves, then began to rub the juicy halves over Christy's naked body.
Each of the fruits left a long, wet smear behind it. They were rubbed across her breasts, down through her clit and deep into her widely-opened valley. A peach half was pushed up into her cunt and turned back and forth like it was in a juicer.
Christy felt herself getting aroused, felt her body become sensitized to the feelings of the fruits and the women's hands, felt her own juices begin to run. That was when the woman with the banana went into action.
Slowly she parted Christy's thighs to their fullest and then placed the tip of the banana into the tiny crack that appeared in her pussy. Inch by inch, the banana was driven deep into Christy until it was totally in her, the full nine inches of fruit stretching her two lips apart and poking out of her snatch like a tiny animal poking out of its burrow.
Then Crowley and three other men entered the room. As soon as Christy saw them she began to writhe in the torments of desire. They circled around her until all four of them stood at the foot of the table staring up at Christy's opened cunt and the banana it held.
Christy waited until she was sure that the eyes of all four of them were riveted on her pussy, then she tensed her muscles.
The banana squashed into pulp instantly, crushed by the powerful squeeze on her snapper cunt. The pulpy, mashed fruit began to ooze out of her tightly clenched opening.
Immediately, one of the men was on her, forcing her apart with his hands while his tongue sought to lick up all the gloriously juiced fruit. Christy moaned in response, feeling herself spiral up into the throes of orgasm. She urged the man on, pleading with him to dig deeper, to thrust his tongue into her, to stretch her with anything he could use, to lick and suck her until not a drop of fruit was left in or on her.
One by one the men peeled a banana and pushed it up into Christy. One by one she pulverized the bananas and then soared into orgasm as the men dined between her legs. One by one the men ate her and then moved on to other delights.
They ran their mouths over her body, tasting orange, then avocado, then plum, then peach, then lemon, then lime. She was a fruit punch laid out for their eating and drinking pleasure. Someone brought in a bowl of cherries and they placed these over her nipples and squeezed them until they burst and ran down over her breasts, staining them a beautiful red and leaving their juicy pulp over Christy's erect and quivering nipples. Then the men would bend down and chew the burst cherries, catching her nipples between their teeth and tweaking them. Christy would cry out and moan, struggling to either tear herself out of their tantalizing taunting teeth or to shove herself deep down their throats. But she was bound securely and could do nothing but moan and plead and cry out. And come. Once. Twice. A dozen times she came beneath their mouths and tongues. She lost count. She knew only that as soon as one orgasm ended another would start up in another area and spread across her restrained body like a brush fire.
There was only one thing that Christy wanted now; to be fucked.
"Fuck me! Please! Somebody fuck me!" she called out to each of the men as they passed near her face. But each of them would move on and leave her struggling and pleading. "God! I'll go crazy. Somebody fuck me!"
Finally, after what seemed to Christy like hours, her prayers were answered. The juice had all been licked off of and out of her. The men slowly took off their clothes and then, surrounding Christy, one by each of her bonds, they let her go and picked her up, carrying her into a bedroom just off the dining room.
The bedroom was dimly lit by more candles, and a stereo system was playing the sounds of love in quadraphonic. From speakers set in each of the four corners came the ooohs and aaahs of people enjoying sex at its best and most vocal. On the walls of the room, picture were being projected. Christy saw that they were films of her, fucking and being fucked at the Halloween party so long ago.
It seemed like the voices from the speakers were coming from Christy and Nick and the others up on the screens on all four walls. Christy stirred and sighed pleasurably. It was a wonderful idea, she thought. Each of the men, and women, would have the choice of fucking Christy, watching her be fucked, or watching a movie of one of her past fucks. It was a total experience - what was once called a happening.
As Christy was carried into the room, she could see that they had been waiting for her. The men all had erections and the women were watching her with open lust. Christy closed her eyes in relief and delighted anticipation.
As they laid her down in the middle of a large water bed covered with satin sheets, Christy spread her legs and arms and motioned them to come to her - all of them.
"Come and get me," she called out, "Christy Creamer is now here in the flesh." And only in the flesh, she thought to herself, unclothed and undercover no more.
Then Christy was overcome with naked writhing bodies. She found herself mounted almost immediately by Crowley. Probably arranged that way, she thought, the boss gets first dibs at the cunt. She wrapped her legs around his waist and prepared to take him for a ride he wouldn't forget.
Halfway through their fuck, she felt someone else pushing at her ass. Smiling, and kissing Crowley deeply to distract his attention, she reached around behind her and helped the newcomer to spread her cheeks and enter her. Filled now from both ends, and being pumped in perfect staggered rhythm, Christy abandoned herself to her passions.
But then she felt someone in front of her and she opened her eyes to see a third man kneeling over her head, his cock red and swollen with desire.
Three! Three men at once, thought Christy, and she grabbed the man and pulled him down over and above her, then reached up and brought his cock down into her mouth.
As Crowley and the others thrust themselves into her from front and rear, she brought her lips up around this wonderfully delicious and new cock and sucked him deep into her mouth.
With her eyes, she saw the two other men sitting beside her, watching with envious eyes as her last opening was filled. Christy reached out with her hands and motioned to them, waving with her hands and motioned to them, waving for them to come closer to her, one on each side.
As they kneeled beside her, she reached out and grabbed them by the base of their cocks, pulling them close so that she could rub their crowns along her tits and caress her nipples with their mouths. Then she began to stroke them eagerly, teasing them with her fingernails, while rubbing their tender bottoms along the smooth surface of her breasts.
Five, she thought! Five men at one time, and all six of us will come at once.
Then she felt a new intrusion and realized that one of the women had crawled between her legs and was busily at work, kissing and licking Christy's cunt and the two cocks that were plunging in and out. Christy felt the tongue dart in to tantalize her clit, then move away again as it sucked on cocks and balls. Then it would be back again, weaving in and out of her folded lips like a magician, arousing everything it touched.
Then Christy exploded and shuddered, shaking up and down and quivering in maddened spasms as her body was torn by the force of her orgasm.
In rapid-fire succession, like a machine gun, each of the men came, too, delivering their loads deep into her ready and waiting cunt, then down her throat, finally across her breasts in long, gleaming arcs. Two of the women were immediately upon Christy, licking her breasts clean, sucking at her nipples while Christy clutched their heads to her with a force like that of ten men.
Two of the other women pushed the men onto their backs and began to go down on them, too, wrapping their lips around their moistened shafts to hasten their return to life.
Christy lay back on the satin sheets, rocking gently with the rhythm of the water bed, filled with sperm and still holding the three men inside her. She sighed a long, contented sigh and began to drift off into sleep.
Just then, the man whose cock was lying in her mouth, bent down and collapsed with his head next to her ear. Christy nibbled at him gently, teasing his balls with a quick lick.
"Christy," he whispered, so softly she could barely make out his words, "Collins sent me. Do you have anything to report?"
Christy started in surprise and almost bit him off.
"Easy," he murmured again, no louder than the last time, "Don't give way that I'm talking to you."
Christy relaxed, wondering how he kept himself so calmly in her mouth when he had come within an inch of losing his manhood forever. Those C.I.A. men, she thought to herself, admiringly, they're real professionals.
"Do you have anything to report?" he asked her again, and she snapped back to reality.
"Yes," she said with difficulty, "But I can't talk with this in my mouth," and she gave his cock another gentle nip.
He pretended to be asleep and slowly let himself slip out of the side of her mouth.
"Go ahead," he whispered. Around them they could hear the sounds of the two men she had given hand-jobs to; they were recovered and busily fucking two of the other women. Crowley and the other man who had fucked her seemed to be engaging in some complicated arrangement which involved the three other women and a strange shaped, life-sized doll of some kind. They also had several aerosol cans which they squirted into each other from time to time and a vacuum cleaner, which Christy didn't know how they were using. Above the moans and groans and giggles came the pre-recorded sounds of love, accompanying the still playing films of Christy with her legs wrapped around Nick's shoulders and her head and mouth buried in Charlie's lap. She felt that it was safe to talk.
She told the agent everything she had learned: the name of Mr. Big, the location of the house, who and what was kept there, the layout of the grounds and the house itself. When she was through, the man smiled and thanked her, telling her that she had done magnificently.
Christy opened her eyes, wanting to see the face of this man who appreciated her work so much. She saw only his cock, erect again and stiff as a board.
She kissed it and then began to ease the man down between her legs.
As he lowered himself down, preparing to mount her, Christy saw another person coming toward her. She didn't know who it was - or even what it was. It didn't matter. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. She wondered what she would find in it when she closed it again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Christy awoke the next morning not knowing where she was. For several moments she lay awake, trying to see around her, trying to remember what had happened the night before and where she was now. Then it all came back to her.
She remembered the party, the fruits, the room with the bed and the movies and the people. And she remembered five men. Five men at once, and then all the combinations afterward. Man and woman and woman and man, uniting in ways that Christy couldn't have imagined beforehand, wouldn't have thought possible until she was brought into them to serve as the fulcrum, the center, the primary receptacle for whatever hand or mouth or cock or cunt was left free.
And now she was back in the house near the reservoir, back in the headquarters of the Bullmoose Army. But at least she had told someone. And he would tell Collins. And he would come, and bring the police and the C.I.A. and whoever else was needed in order to smash this conspiracy. Christy was proud of herself. She had done a magnificent job. And gotten quite a bit of satisfaction along the way.
It's not bad work, if you can get it, she thought.
There was only one thing missing from her puzzle. Graham! If he wasn't here, where was he? There didn't seem to be any other hideout, and he definitely wasn't at the house in Dublin.
She thought again about her meeting with Crowley in the basement. He had been on the sofa in front of the TV. There had been a light on over the desk against the far wall. But there had been something unusual about that. She tried as hard as she could to remember. And then it came back to her. The chair! The chair to the desk had not been in front of the desk, where the light had been shining. It had been behind the desk, barely visible in the faint glow from the light.
But she had seen it. Before her attention had been distracted by Crowley on the sofa, she had seen the chair propped up under the knob of a door behind the desk - acting as a brace, an improvised lock! At the time she had just assumed that the door led outside, and that the chair was reinforcing it against intruders. But now she remembered that during her walks around the house, she had never seen any doors into the house other than the front door. Even the door to the kitchen had been boarded up and sealed!
So that door couldn't lead out. It could only lead in further. To Graham! Without another thought, she jumped up out of bed and began to put her clothes on. She would go down and free him that very instant. Then they would wait for Collins to arrive with the reinforcements.
Christy threw on a blouse and skirt, but didn't bother to put anything underneath; there wasn't enough time. Then she hurried out of her room and down the back stairway to the kitchen.
The cook was standing there, hunched over a large bowl, stirring something. He looked up as Christy entered and scowled at her.
"Hi," Christy called out cheerfully. Then she acted embarrassed, as if she didn't really want to ask what she was about to. "Uh, Luke," she stammered, "Mr. Crowley wanted me to, uh," she paused and shuffled her feet, looking for the right words, "Well, after the party last night, he thought that he might want to, uh, you know, this morning again ..."
"Ya mean he wants to fuck you again," the cook scowled at her again. "Well you'll just have to rest your hot little pussy cause he's not in right now."
"That's what I mean," Christy tried not to show her elation at the news of the Colonel's absence, "he wanted me go on down now, and sort of get myself ready. You know? So that when he comes back he can just-sort of dive right in." She smiled at him in her most disarming way and stood waiting impatiently for him to unlock the door.
The cook stared at her unbelievingly. "He didn't say nothing to me about it when he left this morning. I don't know if I should."
Christy looked at him with mock warning. "Luke, if he comes back here expecting to get laid and finds that I'm not down there and ready because you wouldn't let me in, there's gonna be trouble and you know it."
"Oh all right," he opened the door with the key he kept hung around his neck, then stood next to it as Christy walked past. "You better watch out, else I gonna come down there and get me a little taste." He grinned wickedly and reached out to tweak her pert young buttocks.
But Christy beat him at his own game, her hand darted out and fastened around his balls, giving them a playful squeeze. Then she scampered down the stairs before he could retaliate.
"You come down here for a little taste and you'll get yourself killed," she yelled back up at him, "Boss don't want nobody's leftovers."
Then the door closed behind her and she hurried over to where the chair stood propped up against the door behind the desk.
"Graham? Are you in there?" There was no answer, so Christy grabbed at the chair and tore it away from under the knob. Then she unlocked the door and swung it open.
There, lying on the floor of a small room no bigger than a closet, covered with dust and soot and surrounded by small stacks of black coal, was Graham.
"Graham," she cried out and leaned down to cradle his head in her arms. At first she thought he had been dead or unconscious, but she soon discovered that he had only been asleep. Deprived of light and time, his body had taken to its own schedule.
He slowly awoke and saw Christy holding him.
"Well," he whispered, "This is certainly a surprise. Are you with the Red Cross or am I dreaming?"
Christy laughed and hugged him tighter. "No dream. And everything is all right. I got word to Collins. He'll be here with help. Soon."
Graham stared at her with open admiration. But his smile soon turned to despair as Christy continued on, telling him how much she loved him and how, once they were out of this, they could marry and live together. He cleared his throat and then paused, summoning up his inner reserves.
"I have something to tell you, Christy. Something which will be very difficult to say." He looked up at her, wondering how to best soften his words. "You see, Christy, I am already married. Very happily. And I have three children and a home in Connecticut."
"But," Christy stammered, "But what about ..." She broke down into tears.
"I'm afraid that you have been used, Christy, by everyone. They knew about you from the very beginning. One of your roommates was in the Army from the start. They arranged to have Nick drawn into their conspiracy and then used him to draw in you. Their idea was to use you to get at me."
"Then you knew?" Christy asked, "All along you knew about the bomb, and, and, everything?"
"Oh yes," Graham tried to smile at her, but couldn't, "but we decided to play along with them. We invented that story about the exotic poison to cover for you." He paused and looked away from her, "It was my job to live with you and make you fall in love with me, so that, after you lured me into their trap, we could use you to lead us to their headquarters."
"Then everything was fake?" Christy asked, stunned and hurt so that neither her face nor her voice betrayed the slightest emotion.
"You're a wonderful girl, Christy. And I truly enjoyed our time together."
"You prick!" Christy screamed, and slapped his face with all her strength. He sat still and let her expend her anger. "I hate you!" she screamed and then broke down into sobs.
Her outburst was interrupted, however, by a loud cheer from behind her, followed by the sound of applause.
Christy turned to see Crowley standing at the entrance to the closet. Behind him stood two armed men.
"Hello, Christy," Crowley greeted her with a slow, slurred voice, "Luke told me that you'd be down here ready and waiting." He smiled. "I must say, I'm very disappointed. I thought you meant it."
"I do," said Christy, getting to her feet and pulling violently away from Graham. "After what this pig did to me, I'm with you all the way. And the first way I'll help you is to warn you. There was an agent at the party last night. He knows where we are."
Crowley interrupted her sweeping tirade. "We already know about the unfortunate man."
He smiled at Christy's puzzled look. "You see, we often record and film our parties - so that they'll be available for future diversions. While our engineer was playing back and transferring last night's tape, he happened to overhear a very interesting conversation. Whispered. Much too softly for any human ears to pick up, but not too softly for our microphones." He turned to Graham. "The poor man has been picked up and dealt with, so I'm afraid there will be no last minute rescue. No arrival of the cavalry."
Crowley turned to Christy. "And I'm glad that you've decided to join us for real, because we need your help."
"What do you want me to do?" Christy asked eagerly, "I'll do anything."
"We need some pictures of Graham," Crowley sneered and turned to face Graham who was still lying on the floor of the closet, "His office has declined to cooperate. So we need some additional incentive." He turned back to Christy, "We need to recreate the scenes at his hotel room. Only this time," he walked over to his desk with a flourish, "for the camera." He hoisted a large sixteen millimeter camera onto his shoulder.
He waved to the two men and they turned and walked toward the doorway that led out to the stairs. There they flipped several switches and hidden lights blazed on, making the room quite bright, but naturally bright, so that it did not look artificially lit.
"Have to make this look as if we took these pictures without anyone knowing," Crowley explained to Christy.
The two men then walked over To Graham and hoisted him to his feet. One of them stood behind him and held both his arms in a double head lock. The other man rolled up one of Graham's sleeves and tied off his upper arm. Then they produced a hypodermic filled with a clear fluid and stabbed it deep into the inside of Graham's elbow. Christy saw him flinch and she started to cry out, but stopped herself. What did she care about that pig?
After a second or two, Graham collapsed in the men's arms. They slowly lowered him to the floor and stripped his clothes off him, keeping their weapons nearby at all times. When Graham was totally naked and stretched out on the floor, Crowley walked over to Christy.
"He'll reawaken in a second. When he does, he'll have very little control over his body. As soon as he opens his eyes, go to him and fuck him with everything you've got. He won't know anything else, just you. Got that?"
She nodded.
"Good." He kissed her on the cheek and gave her left nipple a gentle squeeze. "Now get out of these," he said, brushing her skirt and blouse with his hand.
She slipped them off and stood before him, the bright light making her golden skin seem to glow. Crowley stared at her body, so full and firm, and Christy saw an erection bulge out the front of his pants.
"We've got to get you ready," he said to her quietly, "So you can slip him in the minute it gets up." He smiled at her with open desire. "Come on," he motioned her toward the couch. "We've time for a quick one."
A quick one it was, too. He laid his camera down on an end table, and pushed Christy backwards over the top of the couch so that she was lying balanced on it, her head toward the cushions and her feet hanging over the back. Then he unzipped his pants and forced her legs apart roughly.
Without a word or without even taking his pants all the way off he was in her, wrapping her legs around his ass and grabbing her waist to keep her from being driven off the back of the sofa.
Christy was dry and tight, but he pushed into her, driving deeper with each stroke until he finally felt her juices flow over him in a warm, lubricating flood. Then he slid into her with ease and buried his thick rigid cock deep up inside her hotly clasping cunt, pulling her down onto him and holding her there, impaled and helpless.
Christy was leaning backwards with her head resting on the cushions and the angle at which he drove into her increased the friction and pressure of his spear so much that she felt like she would be ripped open with every stroke. She clawed at him with her hands, trying to pull herself up and over him, but he held her down, pulling her and stretching her with his thrusts.
Christy felt him stop and grip her tighter and she knew he was about to cum so she tightened her vaginal muscles around him like a vise and kicked and prodded him with her feet until he was nestled in her and held fast. Then she let herself go too, and shuddered as they came together, flowing into and around each other, quivering like two leaves in a windstorm.
Her nails dug deep into his back, leaving scars, and her head was flung back so that her whole body could wrack with her passion.
She looked up and saw Crowley grinning down at her while he spurted his payoff into her warmly receiving pussy. She grinned back at him and then closed her eyes and was swept away.
Then she felt his dwindling tool wrenched out of her and she sighed, as she always sighed when a male organ was taken away from her.
Crowley was zipping his pants closed as she slowly managed to slide off the back of the sofa and get to her feet. He immediately grabbed the camera and motioned her over to Graham.
"All right," he said quickly, "You've had your present, now get to work."
Present indeed, Christy thought, but she did start to work on Graham.
It wasn't easy. Drugged as he was, his shriveled organ showed no interest in arousing itself. For long minutes she sucked on it, caressing his balls and his chest with her fingernails. Then at last Graham awoke from his stupor. He seemed confused, unaware of anything but Christy. He tried to speak, but she stopped him with a' gentle bite around his cockshaft and a finger across his lips. He gave in with a sigh and surrendered to her seduction. As he did, his penis began to harden and swell in her mouth. Christy smiled as his thick shaft started to pulse with a growing excitement.
For nearly an hour, Christy fucked and sucked Graham, changing positions, twisting herself unnaturally to conform to Crowley's directions. The "Colonel" was always there, just out of the field of vision, calling out directions, stopping her just as she was about to climax so that he could move to a different angle.
When he moved in for close-ups of Graham's oiled shaft plunging in and out of her, he directed Christy in how to distract Graham's attention. When he wanted close-ups of her mouth around his cock or his mouth buried in her cunt. She had to stop and shift into the proper arrangement.
Graham finally came inside of her, and they waited as he slowly recovered. Then they started again. Towards the end, they brought out ropes and leather boots for Christy to wear and a thin metal instrument that was fastened around Graham's cock and made it swell huge and purple.
As Graham built toward a second orgasm, he seemed to be trying to remember something, and so Christy hurried him along, using all of her perfected skills to make his pleasure so intense and irresistible that he could not hold out for a single second longer than she wanted him to.
Crowley waited, crouched in position next to them for Graham's climactic moment. He wanted to capture this ejaculation in the open, outside of Christy. He wanted the sperm to glint and glisten as it arced through the air and onto Christy's breasts and across her face.
He waited, and when the moment came, Christy clamped down on Graham's base, building pressure, letting go only when he was bursting with his juice. Then she let him explode in a long, glorious stream. She leaned back and let in splash down onto her. Her job was over.
"Fine," Crowley said, as the last bit of film ran through the magazine and the sudden click-click-clicking of the empty gears could be heard. "We're finished."
One of the men came and took the camera from him while the other still stood in the background, his gun aimed at Christy and Graham.
"As for you, my fine playmate," Crowley turned to face Christy, still seated on the floor next to Graham, who was by this time awakening from his stupor. "I would love to keep you around - as the house fuck - but unfortunately we just cannot afford it. Now that you've served your purposes, we'll just have to make do with our memories and our films."
He motioned to the men behind him, and they lowered their guns, training one on Christy and one on Graham.
"Come with me, and don't struggle, or we'll have to put a bullet in you right here." He started toward her, then stopped to add, "And these bullets are very real."
He grabbed her wrist and began to drag her toward the dark closet in which Graham had been imprisoned. Christy turned in desperation toward Graham, but he made no move to help her. He made no moves at all. She felt betrayed and abandoned by everyone. Not one person she had met since that night with Steve had done anything but use her. She had been played with like a toy by them all. Now she was helpless.
As Crowley shoved her into the dark room and motioned for one of the men to come up behind him. There was a sudden scrambling on the stairway. Christy looked up to see the cook scurrying down the steps three at a time. He rushed up to Crowley and hissed anxiously in his ear. Christy was sc close, she could hear every word.
"They're here! Twenty or thirty of them and more on the way. The road's blocked and the house surrounded."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Who was here? Christy wondered. But she soon guessed, as Crowley twisted her arm behind her back and shoved her roughly to the floor. He ran to the stairs and ascended them as fast as he could. The other men followed him, but at the top he motioned for one of them to stay below and keep guard on Christy and Graham. Christy lay on the floor where she had been thrown, still naked and covered with Graham's drying semen, wondering what was happening.
Graham leaned toward her and whispered, "The cavalry has arrived after all."
"But they caught the man," Christy told him, "Probably killed him." She shuddered to think of what they must have been about to do to her.
"But it was too late by then," Graham explained, "We had him rigged with a wireless transmitter. Our mobile unit received every word as soon as you spoke it. I've just been biding time, stalling, all morning."
"Then you were awake during that, that filming?" Christy asked, astonished again at how much was going on around her without her knowledge. She seemed to be just a fucking machine, sent back and forth to screw various men for various purposes. And most of the time, they knew more about why she was doing what she was doing than she did.
"Oh yes," Graham answered, "And I thoroughly enjoyed it," he sighed, and Christy wondered whether he were wishing he weren't married, or at least wishing he had another month or two on the case. She knew she was.
Oh well, she thought to herself, dismissing her fantasies as hopeless, at least she had been well serviced during her adventures. That was one consolation of her undercover work - she had never been more than a whistle away from good stiff cock.
Graham glanced up at their guard, standing worriedly at the foot of the stairs. "We have to dispose of him," he whispered to Christy, "and get out of here fast. I think the Bullmoose Army is about to go out with a bang!"
Christy looked up at the guard and then rose to her feet. She walked over to him as sexily as she could, swinging her hips and breasts in rhythm with her walk. As she approached, she reached out her hands toward his crotch, beckoning for him to come to her.
He swung his gun around and leveled it at her stomach. "Come one step closer, sweetheart," he snarled at her, "and I'll give you a second belly button."
Without a word, Christy turned around and walked back toward Graham. "Jesus," she said to herself, "I must be losing my touch." But she had in idea.
"All right," she called back in a loud voice, turning her head to look at the guard over her shoulder, "I just thought you might want to get in on the fun." She continued walking back toward Graham, but kept on talking to the guard. "You see, honey, I need a man. I've been all aroused by your boss, and then let down. And this limp dick here," she snorted in contempt, "He couldn't satisfy himself."
The guard laughed at that, and lowered his gun.
Christy turned back to him, cupping her full sensuous breasts with both hands and gently twisting them so that the nipples swiveled in tight circles. "What I'm saying soldier, is that I need to be fucked. Real bad! I need a big, strong cock inside me and I thought maybe yours should be the one." She looked directly at his crotch and licked her lips in lustful expectation. "I can see you're a real man. Just what I need inside this hot little pussy of mine."
Then she turned back to Graham and sat down beside him with a great sigh. "But I guess I'll have to satisfy myself with this worm here." She leaned over and started to take Graham's cock between her lips. But she was stopped by a shout from the guard.
"Oh no you don't. I just thought you was up to something. You keep your hands offa that guy. I'll give you all the meat you can eat." And he came toward her, unbuckling his pants as he walked.
Christy reached around behind Graham and grabbed a large glass ashtray from where it lay on an end table. She turned and hurled it at the guard with one motion. It flew through the air and shattered on the top of his skull. He never heard or saw it coming. He collapsed in a heap without uttering a word.
"That was an excellent shot," congratulated Graham.
"Before I took up fucking for a living," Christy joked, "I used to be a tomboy. I was the star pitcher on our block."
"I can see why." Graham got up and walked over to the fallen guard. There was no doubt about it; the man was gone from this world - at least for the next hour or two. He reached down and lifted the man's gun out from the pile of shattered glass fragments.
Christy ran over to the sofa and pulled on her skirt and blouse, fastening them quickly and wrongly, but not caring - just so long as she had some clothes on for a change.
"Now," she said and turned back to Graham. "How are we going to get out of here?"
"Didn't you say that there was only one exit to the house?"
"Yes," Christy nodded, "They boarded up and sealed the other."
Graham nodded too, his eyes glinting with a secret knowledge. "Well, no one would trap themselves in a house with only one door - though they might want it to appear that they had. There must be a hidden passage out - probably it's underground and leads out into the forest around this place. And where," he went on, looking around the room they were in, "better to place the hidden exit than in the leader's private quarters. That's been the rule since feudal times."
"There!" Christy shouted, pointing to a spot on the far wall where a mattress had been leaned up at an awkward angle and braced with several shelves.
"Yes." Graham ran over to it and began to pull bookcases, shelves, and mattress from the wall. When he had, they saw a dark, dim, narrow passageway leading off in blackness. "Come on," Graham urged her, and grabbing her hand he pulled her into the hold. Behind her, Christy heard footsteps on the stairway.
They walked for what seemed like hours, through the featureless blackness. Once there was a flurry of gunfire from behind them. It had echoed and re-echoed through the narrow passageway. Christy had cringed, but Graham had pulled her around in front of him and fired back, his shots also crashing from wall to wall and echoing for an eternity. From then on he had kept behind her, pushing her on at a speed that made her trip every other step, but kept them ahead of their pursuers.
When at last they saw light ahead and burst out into the daylight, Christy saw that he had been right. They were deep in the forest. Around them, Christy could see nothing but trees, but nearby she could hear rapid shooting and the roar and crackle of a tremendous fire. Graham immediately started shouting, calling for help, and several men seemed to melt out of the shadows and trees around them. Graham pointed to the camouflaged hole in the side of a small hill and then led Christy away. She saw the men take up positions around the opening, leveling their automatic rifles in preparation for any attempt at escape by those inside.
Graham pulled her to a secluded spot and then whirled around so that she faced him. Holding both her arms, he pulled her close to him and whispered hurriedly.
"Before anyone gets here, I want to tell you that you have been given a total pardon for everything that you have done since the beginning of this case. The F.B.I, has agreed that the bombing will be blamed on one of those who die here today. The negatives and all prints of any film with you in it will be destroyed. As far as anyone will ever know, you were an undercover agent of the F.B.I, who was involved in the matter only in a peripheral manner." He smiled at her.
"In other words," Christy said, unbelievingly, "all that stuff is forgotten, like it never happened?"
Graham nodded his head and then kissed her fully and deeply on the lips. As he pulled away from her, he smiled again. "That, as far as the world is concerned, not only ends the case, but defines your involvement in it. You can go back to being a virgin, er, uh, near virgin."
Christy looked up at him suspiciously. How could he have known about her and Steve?
"Oh, there's one other thing I have to tell you. We drew your boyfriend in on this very early in the game. In fact, he knew about your involvement long before you did. I must tell you, he's been a tremendous headache to us, what with his constant pestering and nagging. He's here now. And he's very much in love with you."
At those words, a group of men came up to them and led them toward the edge of the woods. Christy was smarter now, she knew that Graham must have been holding them off until he had finished what he had to say.
She was certainly smarter now - in almost every way. So how could she possibly every go back to being just Tina Kremer, innocent young schoolgirl? As a matter of fact, she liked her life as "Christy the Creamer."
As they left the forest, she could see that the entire house was ablaze. There were loud explosions as ammunition inside went off from the heat.
"Anyone get out alive?" Graham asked as they neared the front of the barricade that had been thrown up around the house. Several of the men shook their heads no. "Good," he replied succinctly.
She knew her secret was safe.
Then she saw Steve. He was in uniform, looking helplessly, hopelessly around. When he saw her, he shouted with glee and ran up to her, throwing his arms around her waist and lifting her off the ground. He swung her in a wide circle while shouting, "Tina, you're safe!"
Then he hugged and kissed her. "Baby, you don't know how worried I've been," he told her breathlessly, the words flowing from him in a torrent. "They told me what you were going to do months ago - when I first got to boot camp. They wouldn't let me see you, wouldn't let me write to you - except for that one crazy letter."
Tina remembered that one crazy letter, remembered it still, word for word.
"Then they brought me here and told me there was going to be trouble. I'm so glad you're safe."
Tina saw Graham and the others standing discreetly several yards away. She looked for and found Robert Collins, her savior, standing behind Graham's shoulder. She waved, without disturbing Steve.
"Tina, I want to ask you something. Something I've wanted to ask you since the first week I was away. Will you marry me?"
Tina looked at him in shock. Marry him? Christ! He must be crazy. But then he thought. She sure couldn't go back to school, not after what she had been through. She wouldn't be able to stand it. And she had loved this boy once, after all, maybe it would come again. After she had settled down. Besides, if things didn't work out there were all those men in the Navy. Thousands of them, everywhere, in uniforms. And never more than a whistle away.
She winked conspiratorialy at Graham, and he winked back - as did Collins. Steve never knew. Yes, it might be fun to be a Navy wife. It might be quite fun.
Hadn't Marlene Dietrich once sang, "Oh how I love the Navy" or something like that in "Seven Sinners"? Tina smiled and took Steve's arm in hers while waving to Graham, Collins and the others behind her.
"We'll see," she said as she led Steve away. "We'll see."
