The idea and theory that certain humans have been and are "possessed by the devil" is as old as the bible and has persisted down through the ages.
Even certain sects among America's earliest settlers believed that some members of the community were "witches" and could cast the "evil eye" on those to whom they took a dislike or misguided hatred.
It is on this theme that the author has based this interesting treatise set in our own times in any middle class and middle sized city or town in the United States. The place might even be where you yourself live.
The recent motion picture "The Exorcist" is what started the wheels churning in the mind of the writer and intrigued him with the idea of what might happen were one or more "witches" to infiltrate a community and place it under the complete domination of "The Devil."
In the book the author offers no explanations or firm answers; nor does he come to any definite conclusions on the subject are there or are there not "witches?"
We all know that evil exists in the world. Surely, the "evil that exists in men's souls." as Shakespeare put it, was not born within them at birth or placed there by God. To imagine this would be to deny all the teachings and beliefs of practically every civilized religion. Who put it there then? Does man "acquire" it through living with his fellow man? Or is it rather the work of some mysterious hidden force which we do not understand? Is the "Faustus" story true?
Can man "sell his soul to the devil?" Will he, if given the opportunity?
That is the question raised and discussed so vividly and dramatically in this philosophically penetrating work by the author. Also, if one reads carefully, he might detect rather significant threads of satire interwoven masterfully into the plot. After all, evil is evil, no matter what rationalization we may use to explain its existence. Ergo: the devil may not be the devil, but may be the mind of man himself.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
It was as they say, "a lovely wedding."
It was made doubly lovely-lovely because the groom was not only taking the bride, he had just been elected Mayor of the town.
Yes, Ralph Jered Doyle had overwhelmingly defeated his opponent in Garden City's recent mayoralty campaign and was the youngest man ever elected to that prestigious office.
Ralph or "Red," as he was sometimes called by intimate friends, not only because it was a shortened version of his middle name, but because his hair was of that flamed color, had been going with Rena practically since they were in grade school.
She was blonde and lovely in a kind of "girl-next-door" sort of way; the epitome of the All-American girl as was Ralph representative of the new and upcoming breed of young politicos so well formerly represented by the Kennedys.
Rena had gone with him all through high school and then waited patiently while he went to college, and she went to a fashionable girl's school and then continued to wait patiently until Ralph took his degrees in Law and Business Administration. One degree wasn't enough for Ralph J. Doyle. He always had to do things a bit better than anyone else. Rena contented herself with a simple English major and spent most of her time fending off would-be daters and suitors. She was committed to Ralph. He knew it, and she knew it. But that didn't stop other guys from trying. She was so young and so attractive and so sexy, in a "wholesome way," of course.
Even after all that waiting, neither Ralph nor Rena were very old; Ralph in his late twenties, Rena about twenty-three. It had only seemed a long time. They were both still very young with plenty of time to enjoy life.
Rena had campaigned with her fianc', naturally, and it had been a hard fight. In some ways, Ralph's youth and lack of political experience had been against him. But in the final analysis, it helped put him over the top. The people were tired of the same old, tired speeches and cliches. Ralph gave them new ideas and new thoughts the ideas and thoughts of youth.
It's a shame that his ideas about politics and city government didn't extend into the bedroom. Both he and his bride had been brought up in the strictest of moral and religious codes. They had done a great deal of "soft" petting in the summers between college terms, and once during the last year, Rena had gotten so hot she thought she would burst her panties. Ralph's shorts were already wet with some cum that had started to seep from the tip of his penis. And all that was just from some hot wet kisses, a squeeze of Ralph's hand on her breasts and before she knew it, she had squirmed her dress up to her navel and Ralph's hand was under it, fondling her pussy. Mind you, she squirmed it up, not Ralph. To him, a woman's vagina was the most sacred thing in the world, especially Rena's. He would never have dared to violate it.
But now they were finally married. Everything was legal and holy sanctioned. They were not extravagant on their honeymoon. They could not go very far away or stay for an extended time. Ralph had to be back to be sworn in as the Mayor. But they took a small trip to the mountains and prepared to enjoy their first night as a married couple.
They were both quite trepidatious and nervous: Ralph because he wanted to be sure and not "hurt" Rena and Rena because she didn't want to disappoint Ralph.
It wasn't that either one was completely unknowledgeable about sex, its deviations, variations and perversions. Both had studied abnormal psychology in school and had done their share of reading technical books, of course that treated on sexual matters. But their upbringing precluded that either of them would even think of indulging or engaging in anything but "normal," heterosexual relationships for the purpose of having children. They weren't even Catholic. But that's the way they naturally, by their upbringing, thought of the subject.
Hence, their first night together was typical of a young couple that might have become married twenty or thirty or even fifty years ago.
Rena retired modestly into the bathroom while Ralph hastily undressed in the semi-darkness of the room, donning his brand new pajamas. Rena undressed, carefully folding her traveling suit and undergarments so they wouldn't be mussed. As she unhooked her bra and pulled down her panty girdle, she did permit herself a brief sneaky look at her naked body in the full length mirror. She had to admit, even immodestly, that she was as beautiful as any girl who ever adorned the center cover of "Playboy." Maybe not as sexy or provocative, but certainly as beautiful. Her high firm breasts, practically untouched by human hands, jutted out pointedly, the nipples large and firm with a dark center ring. The skin on her body was as perfect as her facial complexion: smooth and milky white. Her blue eyes were dazzling: her blonde hair a fitting crown. Her legs were long and graceful. She permitted herself a small smile at what she was reflected back from the mirror and hoped that Ralph would not be sorry they had had to wait so long. For just a fleet second her eyes darted to that sacred sanctorum below her navel, and she glanced at the also-blonde pubic hair that adorned the outer flanges of her vaginal slit running down between her legs. She rubbed her hand over it gently then quickly drew it away. That wasn't "nice."
As she looked, she heard Ralph's voice calling from the bedroom. "You almost ready, hon?"
"Almost," she replied gaily. Oh, she wanted this to be fun. Love should be fun, she thought as she put her flimsy sheer nightgown over her head and let it drop in clinging folds around her body. She clicked off the bathroom light and went into the bedroom.
In the semi-darkened room her eyes took a moment to adjust. She could not see her new husband. He had already climbed into bed and was steeling himself for an ordeal. He remembered every bit of literature and piece of information he had ever read about how a husband should treat his wife on the wedding night, especially if she was a virgin. Kindness. Gentleness. Take it easy. Remember, it's painful the first time for a virgin.
He was willing himself not to become too excited too soon when Rena opened the door and stood framed in the window between the bathroom and where he lay on the bed. Ralph had opened the curtains and the windows a bit. Health, you know. Fresh air in the bedroom at night, the way he had been taught.
Just enough moonlight lit the room to frame and outline every luscious curve of Rena's body. His penis stirred and began rising just at the sight of her through the night-wearing apparel she wore. It was an even sexier sight to him than if Rena had appeared completely nude. Had Rena known that fact of life she probably would have been nude rather than clothed in a piece of silk that only enticed more than it hid. She did not want to overly excite Ralph on this, their first night and spoil things for him.
"Ralph?" she whispered in a small voice.
"Over here, sweetheart," he replied.
Her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, and she moved toward the bed. She lifted the covers, climbed in on the opposite side and rolled into Ralph's arms. She pressed herself close to him as he embraced her as tenderly as possible. His hands moved to her breasts, cupped one of them and squeezed. She gave a little moan which Ralph completely misinterpreted. He was hurting her, he thought. He withdrew his hand. She pressed herself closer to him and almost melted her pelvis into his legs. She felt the large, hard lump and hoped she wasn't rushing things. She did want him with all the fervor of young passion. She hoped he would take his time, but she needed to be prepared for this first invasion of her most sacred possession.
She wanted to feel her husband's organ feel it for the first time with her hand and not be ashamed of the wanting and of thinking the thought. But did she dare? She returned Ralph's squeeze with one of her own in his hand then slowly inched her hand down his side and leg, approaching his prick closer and closer. She sensed its hardness now and its heat.
Ralph felt her hand coming down lower and lower and could hardly stand it. He reached for her shoulder, found the top of the flimsy garment that protected her tits and thrust his hand inside it. He cradled a bare breast with one hand and tried to struggle out of his pajama pants with the other. He untied it as quickly as he could and was inching it down his thighs with his feet: first one then the other. It wouldn't move quickly enough. The pain and throbbing of his cock was agonizing. Finally he managed to expose his prick and rolled over and on top of his wife.
"Not yet, darling, not yet," Rena almost moaned.
Ralph J. Doyle reached down with both hands and lifted Rena's sheer nightgown. His penis contacted her pubic hair and he spurted cum all over it.
"Oh God! Oh God no! We've waited so long."
Rena realized what had happened and could feel his large member pulsating and throbbing. She felt the moistness on her body and began sobbing. "Oh, I'm sorry Ralph. I'm sorry!"
Ralph rolled off her like a shot. He was embarrassed and ashamed. He had never had so little control before, not with any of the few women he had fucked. He threw off the covers and almost ran into the bathroom, slamming the door as Rena called out, "Ralph!"
Then she lay there, trying to think what to do. Being a woman, she had not been nearly ready for that first insertion and thrust, but she wanted her husband. Perhaps if she gave him time to recover? That's what he needed, she thought, just some time.
But Ralph continued to stay in the bathroom. A half hour went by: an hour. Rena began to wonder if something was seriously wrong. She got out of bed, tiptoed to the bathroom door and knocked on it gently. "Ralph?" she whispered again. There was no reply. "Sweetheart, it's all right. Come back to bed. Please." When there was still no reply, she called again, "Ralph? Please come to bed."
The door opened and Ralph stood there looking like the wrath of God. He was almost in a daze. Rena took him by the hand and gently led him back into their marital bed. They both just lay there quietly for several moments. Finally, Rena broke the silence.
"Sweetheart?"
He did not reply.
"I-I've heard.. . " she began, hesitantly, ". . . I've heard that there are other ways."
"No!" Ralph almost shouted the word. It was almost a snarl: a grunt. He, too, "had heard," and once a whore had sucked him. He did not intend to permit his wife to humiliate herself in that way. Rena sensed what he was thinking and hastened to add, "Not for you darlingfor me."
"What?? ? " Ralph J. Doyle was flabbergasted. He could hardly believe his ears. Was his wife his sweet, innocent Rena suggesting that he commit an act of perversion on her?
"I'm sorry," Rena said again. It seems that she could do nothing right on this night of all nights. "II only thought it might excite you againand make me more more ready," she Finished lamely.
Ralph inhaled and exhaled with a deep long sigh. "Rena, I'm sorry for what happened. Sorrier than you are, I assure you." He sounded more like a lawyer in a courtroom than a husband on his honeymoon. "But," he went on, his voice beginning to sound more and more business-like and authoritative, "it-it's just one of those unfortunate things. II should have been in more control of myself, but the whole thing was just too much for me; the wedding, the excitement, the election. It's no great catastrophe. We'll be married a long time. There'll be lots of other nights. But please don't suggest anything overtsomething that we might both be sorry that we did. I-I have the greatest of respect for you," he continued, compounding the felony, "the same as I have for myself. I wouldn't want either of us to engage in any perverse acts that we might be ashamed of later."
With that, Ralph J. Joyle turned away from his bride and moved away to his extreme side of the bed. Rena thought for a moment that she was going to cry. She contained herself and spent a moment reflecting. Ralph was right. She was a little hussy to even suggest it. Sweet, pure little Rena, wanting her husband to play with her pussy with his fingers or to go even farther with his lips and tongue. No! Ralph was absolutely right to have reprimanded her. Why, she was acting no better than a whore.
"I'm sorry, darling," she said for the third time and ran her hand down her stomach, touching the top of her pussy. It was still wet and moist with her husband's semen.
Quietly, she got out of the bed on her side and tiptoed to the bathroom to wash herself. The very least she could do was to eliminate any reminder to Ralph of his failure. In the shower she soaped herself good and had to restrain the desire to put her own fingers down between her lips and play with herself. That wasn't "nice" either. But Rena was as passionate as the next woman and desired sex with all of the heat and abandon of her female sex, whether she knew or admitted it at the moment or not.
Finally, she was clean again and had dried herself, rubbing briskly with the large fluffy towel. She carefully extinguished the bathroom light and crept back into her marital bet. Ralph was breathing deeply. She couldn't tell whether he was really asleep or merely feigning because he was too embarrassed to talk further. Rena only hoped that she hadn't disappointed her husband too much. She moved close to him and gently Almost at the same moment when Ralph failed in his attempt to consummate his marriage, another scene was taking place in the home of Mrs. Lillian Thayer back in Garden City.
Mrs. Thayer had moved into the community about three months before Ralph and Rena were married and Ralph's election as Mayor.
She had campaigned for Ralph and had made a sizeable donation to his campaign fund. In this way she met not only Ralph and Rena, but most of their friends.
She did not confine her activities and circle of acquaintanceships entirely to the society that the young Mayor and his wife moved in, but Ralph J. Doyle and Rena were her principal targets and prey.
The "scene" taking place in an upstairs room of Mrs. Thayer's lavish home was like something straight out of "Rosemary's Baby."
Attended by her faithful servant, Mrs. Ross, Lillian Thayer was conducting a "Black Mass." The room itself had been changed from an ordinary room into something resembling a "Chapel." There was an alter, hanging draperies and large tapers or candled, all in black. Above the altar in place of the expected Christ or Virgin Mary, hung a representation of His Most Satanic Majesty The Devil! Beelzebub Himself. Mrs. Thayer and her assistant were praying to the Lord of Darkness, asking for guidance, instructions and swearing to do His bidding as He commanded.
As they offered up their prayers and themselves into His unholy hands, they seemed to hear His Voice, commanding them and instructing them. They replied aloud, speaking to His Image.
"We understand Sire," Mrs. Thayer murmured, her two index fingers making a sign of "The Horns" above her head. "Yes Sire. Ralph Doyle and his wife. I have already told You about their marriage. I have prayed to You to desecrate their wedding night."
She listened a moment and then smiled evilly. An evil smile was not something that Lillian Thayer managed easily. She was a beautiful and voluptuous woman who appeared to be about twenty-five years old. She contrasted Rena with her coal-black hair but had the same milky-white perfect complexion. Her breasts were almost twice the size of Rena's, perhaps not quite as firm in tissue, but every bit as delectable, if not more so. Her figure was "hour-glass" in shape: a very thin waist with well-rounded hips that tapered down into legs resembling the drawings of Petty or Varga in the old Esquire magazine. She was sex personified. Her lips were full and overly-red: not because of using too much makeup. They were just naturally blood-red and inviting. There wasn't a trace of a wrinkle, not even "laugh lines" around her eyes. Mrs. Thayer rarely, if ever, laughed. That was not what she had been put on earth to do.
After listening intently for a moment, she nodded with satisfaction. "Good. Good," she murmured again. Apparently her supernatural contact had informed her of Ralph's failure with his wife almost at the moment that it was happening.
Impossible?
Who is to say?
The very religious believe in the existence of "The Devil." And those who are either open-minded or know about these things believe in "witches." After all, our forefathers and the Pilgrims believed in them. Perhaps they knew something that we of the more "enlightened" and modern society do not.
Yes, Lillian Thayer was a real "Witch." She was not twenty-five years old. Her age is indeterminable. She herself has forgotten how many decades she has lived, always doing The Devil's bidding and remaining always perpetually young. like the picture of Dorian Grey. Other things grow old but not Mrs. Thayer.
To begin with, that wasn't even her real name. She had countless names and was forced to adopt a new one each time she moved into a new community. Mrs. Thayer moved quite often. It usually took some time for people to become suspicious of her, but eventually either because her appearance never changed or because in doing the Satanic bidding, she managed to enrage so many people that they grew to hate her, she was unable to remain in the community any longer. It really didn't matter. The world is large and Satan has many places and people to conquer. allowed her hand to rest on his stomach, being careful not to touch his by now limp and useless organ.
She was always welcomed into any community where she moved at first. She appeared to have plenty of money and did. She moved in the best circles, lived in a style and manner that only a millionaire could afford, entertained lavishly and was a most gracious and charming hostess.
For all this, she was nevertheless a witch. Her real name was Riva Blake, but no one ever called her Riva or Madame Blake except her "assistant" who posed as her housekeeper and companion, Mrs. Ross. Mrs. Ross was only an "apprentice" in witchdom. She was old and appeared to be old. But she had almost served out her time as a Devil's Disciple and was shortly due to be rewarded with the same beautiful face and figure as well as the assignments of Mrs. Thayer. She was growing impatient with her secondary role to Lillian and wanted more than anything else in the world to become a full-fledged number one Witch. She tried to conceal her growing impatience from Mrs. Thayer, not always with total success. There were times when Lillian had to remind Mrs. Ross of her position and that she, Mrs. Ross, was required to merely assist her. However, the old woman did pester Mrs. Thayer quite often and wanted to know, "When? When?"
She was doing it now while Riva prayed to her god, The Devil. "Ask Him," she urged Mrs. Thayer. "Ask Him!"
Riva ignored Mrs. Ross and went on praying, asking for guidance and swearing herself on the "altar of the horns." She listened again when she stopped her chanting and nodded with understanding. "Yes Sire. I understand. As soon as they return from their honeymoon." She was forced to grin again when she uttered the word "honeymoon." She knew that Ralph J. Doyle and Rena were in for a disappointing time, not only on their honeymoon, but an even worse experience once they returned to Garden City.
She continued nodding her understanding and murmuring, "Yes Sire," to the unheard commands. "As soon as they return. A party? Of course. I will begin the arrangements immediately."
With that, she bowed low, kissed the floor of the altar, again made "the sign of the horns" and backed away slowly, her eyes riveted to her master's image. Together, the beautiful Riva and the crone made their way out of the alter-room and into the lavishly appointed sitting room.
"You may start dinner," Riva coldly ordered her servant, "and bring me my guest address book. We are going to have a party to celebrate the return of Mr. and Mrs. Doyle from their honeymoon." With that, she laughed loudly and coarsely.
"Yes, Madame," the servant bowed deferentially and left the room.
Riva went to her always well-stocked bar and poured herself a drink. She gulped it off like a sailor and poured another. This one she carried into the bedroom and surveyed the king-size bed and dresser, surrounded completely by mirrors. They were two-way mirrors. Behind this room was a small corridor that completely encircled the room. A hidden access to the corridor was activated by a secret button which Riva pushed then entered through the opening revealed by a sliding panel in one wall.
In the corridor was motion picture equipment: 8mm cameras on tripods with various lenses. At the far end was a door. Riva proceeded down the corridor, opened the door and went into a small but completely equipped darkroom for the processing of movies and stills.
It was neat and clean. All was in readiness. Her modus operandi was always the same. Whoever his Satanic Majesty foisted her upon was first seduced by sex and then blackmailed. In the case of Ralph and Rena, Riva was certain that Rena would not succumb to a lesbian approach: certainly not at first. Therefore, her initial victim had to be Ralph. It should not be difficult especially with the Devil's help.
Riva smiled to herself and began rubbing her hands over her luscious body: gently fondling her own breasts, then working down slowly over her flat belly, lower yet to her thighs and legs and back up to a point between them. She squatted slightly to give her hands more play and feel then rubbed the palm and fingers hungrily over her pussy. She was getting excited just thinking about what she would entice the handsome, wholesome Mayor Ralph J. Doyle to do under her guidance. All of it would be captured on film of course, the cameras operated by the faithful Mrs. Ross.
The Devil had chosen his disciple well. Riva Blake had lived up to His every expectation and so she would again.
The balance of Ralph's and Rena's "honeymoon" was almost as unsatisfactory as the first night: not quite but almost. They found things quite dull in the mountains. Ralph was unlucky at catching fish and there wasn't much else to do. Except of course, what honeymoon couples are supposed to do and want to do make love. That's why they usually came to this rather remote place with its lovely scenery, peace and quiet.
But it was obvious to the both of them that they were not having a "good time." The second night in bed, Ralph had managed to prevent himself from cumming too soon. Matter of fact, he failed to reach a climax at all. Rena's vagina proved to be so tight that he was unable to fully penetrate her. This time he did play with her cunt. But only with one finger. He was forced to do something to try and moisten the tiny hair-lined lips and entrance and force it to dilate. He kneaded her breasts and kissed her passionately. Then he would place his hand on her pussy and feel that it was moist. But every time he mounted her and tried to insert his penis, it only went so far and was resisted by her virginal cherry. She also moaned a bit in the process of his attempts, and Ralph always immediately withdrew. He thought he was "hurting" her. He did not realize that she was moaning with pleasure and that that was the precise moment he should have shoved and rammed his prick into her.
The inevitable result was that he could not get inside her, and the effort turned him off and caused him to lose his hard-on.
Things went on like this for almost the entire week. Both of them became more and more frustrated. Rena found herself wishing and thinking that her husband ought to let them try "something different." A different position perhaps, or even fellatio and cunnilingus. Oh, they both knew all of the proper and technical names for the various variations of sexual intercourse. But Rena was afraid to even mention the subject after Ralph's reaction the first night. She was even afraid to suggest that it might be better if she were on top: or maybe if they both lie on their sides something Ralph seemed to resist and resent anything but what he called "normal" sex. That meant the man on top and the woman on the bottom. The man was the "male" wasn't he? No man is supposed to allow himself to be humiliated by letting his wife fuck him, or to subjugate himself by going down on her.
So they struggled along that way for almost an entire week, pretending to have fun during the day and trying to consummate their marriage each night.
Finally, on their last night, Ralph had really worked Rena into a frenzy of passion with his kisses and kneading her breasts and finger-fucking her clitoris. Her cunt was hot and moist, but the membrane that still separated her from Ralph was intact.
As Ralph worked and tried to screw his way into her, still meeting the same resistance, Rena suddenly grabbed both of his buttock cheeks in her hands and literally pulled her husband into her. She kept pounding on his ass, urging him on and on until finally, their was a "plop" sound inside her belly, a rending and a tearing, a great surge of liquid half cum half blood and she was free. Ralph realized what had happened and the thought of it excited him beyond endurance. He too, spurted his load into her, breathing like a steam engine and sweating like a pig.
Finally, they both lay on the bed, exhausted and spent. But Rena was happy. She really wasn't sure whether she had had a true orgasm or not, but at least she was no longer a virgin. She had given herself to her husband completely and made him happy. That was enough in itself. For him to be happy made her happy. Now that the first awful trial and experience was over, they would have lots of time as Ralph had said, to make love. Perhaps even in time Ralph would be able to relax a little and indulge in a few "variations." She would be patient. She would not rush him. After all, didn't she have the most wonderful, sought-after man in her entire society? She and Ralph would be happy. She was certain of it. Maybe she would even get pregnant after tonight's success. She wanted a baby-Ralph's baby. She lay there, quietly in the dark and thought of being pregnant. It must be wonderful to be filled completely with another human being: to give life where there was no life before. Ralph had gotten up and gone to the bathroom to wash himself. "Cleanliness is Godliness," his mother had always told him and Ralph believed it. He too was happy. He had "made" it at last. It wasn't exactly the thrill he had imagined it to be during the long years and months he had waited to fuck Rena. While he washed his penis and pubic hair, and then pissed in the toilet, he could remember other experiences dimly that had given him more sensation. But that was to be expected. After all, a husband is not really supposed to "enjoy" sex as much with his wife as he has with other women. But now there would be no "other women". And that, too, was the way God had meant things to be. "For better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in Riva lost no time in contacting Ralph when he and Rena returned from their partially successful honeymoon. Mayor Doyle had not been in his office half an hour when his secretary informed him that Mrs. Thayer was on the telephone. Of course, Ralph accepted the call immediately. He could hardly afford not to. He was well aware of the charming and lovely lady's monetary contributions and help during his campaign. Besides, he had it in the back of his mind to ask that she head up a committee on Urban Development. He took the phone and assumed his most pleasant political voice.
"How are you, Mrs. Thayer? Good to hear from you."
Riva assured the Mayor that she was well and inquired about his own health and that of his wife's and hoped that they had had a fabulous honeymoon.
"Oh yes, yes indeed," Ralph replied. "Itit was wonderful." He felt a little guilty at this slight little white lie. "What can I do for you?"
"Oh, Mr. Mayor," Riva gushed in her sexiest voice, "to paraphrase the famous words of our late, beloved President, "it is not that I want you to do anything for me but to ask what I might do for you?"
"Well, as a matter-of-fact.. . " Ralph began, then broke off as Riva continued. "And to invite you and Rena to a small party I'm giving on Saturday."
"I'm sure we'd love to come," Ralph accepted quickly. "And incidentally, while you're on the phone, would you consider taking over the chairmanship of my committee for Urban Development?"
"Why, I'm very honored, Your Honor," Riva murmured in an even lower voice, if that was possible. "Good, maybe we can talk about it at the party."
"Oh no. No you don't, you naughty Mayor. I will not have business discussed at a party. That's strictly for fun. But if you're free next week, perhaps you'd like to drop over for tea one afternoon and we can discuss it then."
"It's a date."
"When?" Riva pressed for a firm commitment.
"Well, just a minute, I'll have to consult my calendar." He hastily thumbed the pages of his appointment book. "How about Wednesday afternoon?"
"Wednesday will be perfect."
"See you then," Ralph said.
"No, no, no. See you Saturday evening. You won't forget now?"
"I won't forget."
"And be sure to tell Rena. Women don't like to be surprised with last minute appointments, you know. Especially new brides. She might want to buy a new dress or something."
"I'll tell her this evening. And thanks for calling, Mrs. Thayer."
"Good-bye." Riva broke the connection and smiled. She turned to find Mrs. Ross at her side. "It is arranged?" the old lady inquired. "All arranged." sickness and in health, so long as ye both shall live."
Ralph smiled and began to whistle happily as he dried off his cock and put his pajamas on. Now that the sex act was over, he felt the need to be clothed in bed. Sleeping in the nude was somehow "indecent."
He turned off the bathroom light and went back to bed. Rena had heard him whistling and knew that that was a good sign. "Happy, darling?" she asked.
"Ummm," was the reply.
"So am I," she whispered.
"Good night," Ralph said and patted her gently.
"Good night sweetheart," her happiness only slightly dimmed by the fact that Ralph had turned over on his left side and seemed to be asleep almost immediately. Rena was left with her thoughts, and they were good thoughts. like a little girl she began to pray silently, "Now I lay me down to sleep.. . " The sentence was too long. It should have stopped after, "Now I lay.. . "
"Good."
"Now I must complete the invitations. When they learn that the Mayor will be here, you won't be able to drive them away with sticks."
"Or horns," the elderly woman grinned then laughed.
And she was right. That Saturday evening everybody who was anybody in Garden City was present to celebrate the Mayor's return with his bride. The couples varied in age from over fifty to under thirty. Riva circulated herself copiously as any gracious hostess is supposed to do, and carefully noted for future reference, the ones who might be "of use" in the future: the ones who drank a little too much or who appeared to "get high" easily: the husbands and wives who smiled at each other through clenched teeth and obviously were having some marital difficulty.
Riva wore a concealed cordless microphone-transmitter in her dress. All she had to do was bend her head slightly and whisper into it. Every word was taken down on a small tape recorder in the upstairs corridor behind the large bedroom with the two-way mirrors and cameras. She was preparing her next moves and making careful note of those whom she would invite back in the future for an entirely different kind of "party."
Mayor Doyle and his charming Rena were graciousness personified. All or most of the guests were already friendly to them and the Mayor's supporters, but Ralph was so handsome, so self-contained and diplomatic that he managed to cement the loyalty of a few of the older guests who had questioned his youth and doubted his ability to hold so responsible a job. When the affair broke up, no one had any doubts that their new Mayor was destined to go far in politics. The Governorship, perhaps, The Senate even The Presidency, in time. Well, why not? As one of the guests observed: "He's as charming as John Kennedy, and every bit as good-looking." He seems to know what he's doing," another said.
In short, Mrs. Thayer's homecoming party for the Simpsons was a huge success and certainly aided the new Mayor's quest for friends and support. He was properly grateful at the door before he took his leave.
"I can't begin to thank you, Mrs. Thayer," Ralph took Riva's hand and shook it warmly.
"You were marvelous, simply wonderful," Rena added and gently pressed her face on Lillian's, first one side then the other, like two Frenchmen greeting each other.
"I'm so glad you enjoyed yourselves," Riva replied with her mostingratiating smile. "We must do this more often."
"Any time you say," Ralph said.
"Just give us a call," Rena chimed in.
"Good night."
"Good night."
Ralph and Rena turned to go. Rena continued ahead of her husband toward their car. Ralph remembered something and turned back. "Oh. You haven't forgotten our appointment on Wednesday?" he asked.
"Certainly not," Riva murmured like a cat about to pounce on a bird. "I'm looking forward to it with the greatest of pleasure."
And they were gone.
When the last guest had departed and the last drink consumed, Riva turned to Mrs. Ross as she was about to retire to her room.
"We will say Mass every morning until Wednesday. Wednesday you will be prepared to assist me."
"Yes of course, Riva," the old one murmured and bowed her head.
Someday, she thought, I will be like her. I will be master. I will be young. If this comes off well she would ask Him to keep his promise and promote me to that position.
CHAPTER TWO
On Wednesday, promptly at the appointed hour, Ralph J. Doyle presented himself at the home of Mrs. Lillian Thayer. He had cancelled all appointments for the day and was ready to be at his most charming best. He had the strange feeling that he needed this woman; not only her money and support, but in some other way. She was forceful and a commanding figure. She had authority, somehow, and was strong. He liked that kind of woman. He had not given her a single thought sexually. That wasn't in Ralph's nature at least he thought it wasn't. While it was true that he had had a few flings before he married Rena, they meant nothing. They were what every young, red-blooded American boy was supposed to do before he got married and settled down. He had sowed his wild oats, as his parents and grandparents used to say. No. This attraction to Mrs. Thayer was something even stronger than sex. The Mayor couldn't put his finger on it and really didn't even try to analyze it. All he knew was that he wanted her on his side and that she could be valuable to him.
Riva opened the door to him herself. Mrs. Ross was already upstairs in the corridor behind the bedroom, threading up the cameras with film and focusing them on the entire room with special close-up lenses for the bed, couch and chairs. The Witch was wearing her sexiest dress, but it was not brazen. It was not to shock, only to titillate. It hung close to her body, outlining every curve; not cut too low, but emphasizing her large breasts. In addition, she wore the slightest hint of a most exotic perfume. It was that odor that assailed Ralph's nostrils as he first entered and greeted her. just a whiff of it made him quite giddy.
The "perfume" was actually a potion in her very mild form. Every Witch is supplied her potions and Riva had her share.
They exchanged pleasantries after "how-doyado's" and she led Ralph into the living room. "You must be tired," she began.
"I ama little."
"You have such a responsible job," she continued, "and in such difficult times. I do want to be as much help to you as possible."
"You have been of enormous help already, my dear Mrs. Thayer, and I owe you my ever-lasting thanks. But if I can prevail on you to take over this Chairmanship.. . "
"Wouldn't Chairladyship be more appropriate?" she laughed. "Of course. It's just a figure of speech."
"I know. How about a drink?" Ralph immediately raised his eyebrows. "So early?"
"Yes, it's early, but you do look as though you could stand a bit of relaxing."
"Well, perhaps you're right," Ralph agreed. He was willing to agree to practically anything Mrs. Thayer said if he could only persuade her to give further of her time and money. He had no way of knowing, of course, that Riva was willing to give even more than that.
"What'll it be?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know," he replied amiably. "I hardly ever drink this early so I'll leave it to you."
"It's rather warm out. How about a daiquiri?"
"Daiquiri? I don't think I've ever had one."
"Really? Well then that's what it shall be. You really must try one of my daiquiris." She began mixing the ingredients; rum, lime juice, cracked ice, just a dash of sugar, and heavy on the rum. Riva knew that given enough citrus juice, the light rum became almost disguised no matter how heavily the drink was loaded with the potent liquor. It was something like a "Brandy Alexander." Most men used that one to loosen up women. The milk or cream hid the potency of the brandy and it tasted almost like a small milk shake.
"They tell me in the West Indies," Riva went on, "that my daiquiris are absolutely authentic and rank with the best the natives can make."
This was just a remark designed for conversation and Ralph took the bait. "I didn't know you had been to the West Indies," he said.
"Oh, more than 'been there', " she replied. "I lived there for almost two years after Mr. Thayer died."
"It must be interesting traveling about like that."
"Yes, it is," she agreed as she brought him bomber number one. "But after awhile it becomes dull, like almost anything else. I find that I like it here in Garden City as well or better than anywhere else in the world."
"I'm glad," Ralph smiled politely. "And I hope you'll stay forever."
Forever. A long time, but possible in Mrs. Thayer's case. "Shall we drink to that?" she raised her glass in a toast.
"I can't think of anything better to drink to," said Ralph, raising his glass and clinking it lightly against hers. "Well, here's to you," he offered as he quaffed the stiff cocktail. He didn't frown or flinch, so well had the Witch concocted her brew. He merely moistened his lips appreciatively. "Um. Good."
"I'm glad it pleases you," Riva returned.
Ralph took another slurp, relaxed on the sofa and tugged at his tie a bit. "I wonder why people say that?"
"Say what?"
"Here's to you." Ralph grinned. He was about to spring one of his best jokes on Mrs. Thayer. "You know, there's an old joke about that."
"Tell me," she said, and sat down close to him on the sofa, her perfume floating gently in his direction.
"Well, it goes like this: An Englishman was criticizing the Americans, which is pretty usual, or used to be, and he said: 'you know, you Americans have some peculiar sayings. For example, when you make a drink, you put liquor in it to make it hot, ice in it to make it cold, lemon to make it sour, sugar to make it sweet, then you say: 'here's to you', and drink it yourself."
Mrs. Thayer laughed appreciatively even though the last time she had heard that old wheeze was how long ago? She preferred not to think about how long ago it was. "Oh, that's funny," she said.
Ralph sipped the remainder of the cocktail and set it down. "Now, about this Chairman er Chairladyship.. . " he began in a business-like way.
"Let's have one more before we begin talking business."
"Oh, really, II don't think I'd better, so early in the day."
"Mr. Mayor," Riva's voice dropped another octave and she feigned a mock frown, "you want me to take that Chairladyship don't you?"
"Indeed I do."
"Then, I insist. Another of my famous daiquiris and then we'll get down to the cold hard facts of life." Riva grinned to herself when she said that. Ralph had no idea of the double entendre. "Hot, hard facts of life," Riva whispered to herself as she picked up the empty glasses and returned to the bar. While she mixed the second cocktail she stole a glance at Ralph. He had tugged still more at his collar and seemed to be warm and really starting to relax. "Take your coat off Mr. Mayor," she invited. "Make yourself comfortable."
"Well, it is a little warm."
"I'll turn on the air-conditioner."
The drink seemed to be having the desired effect but Riva couldn't be sure of Ralph's tolerance for alcohol. Perhaps something a bit extra was needed just to be on the safe side. When she poured in the lemon juice she took a small vial from her bra and emptied its contents into Ralph's glass. Riva, of course, was privy to all kinds of "potions". She would have been a pretty poor excuse for a Witch if she wasn't. This one was odorless and tasteless. It not only released all inhibitions, it was also a powerful aphrodisiac. If everyone could concoct Riva's potion, marijuana would go out of style the next day.
She stirred the mixture lustily and brought it back to the Mayor. "This time to you," she said, sexily as she handed it to him.
In true Rowan and Martin tradition, he responded with: "I'll drink to that," and did.
It glided down as smoothly as the first. Riva sat beside him again, waited only a few moments, then moved closer. As she spoke, her hand casually came to rest on Ralph's knee. The Mayor tried to pay attention to her words but suddenly his mind began to wander and the strangest thoughts rolled around.
"Now about this Urban Development project," she was saying.
"Yes yes, the Urban Development.. . "Ralph looked at her and could only see her blood-red lips and the tops of her milk-white breasts that peaked out enticingly above the bodice of her dress.
God, she's beautiful, Ralph thought, and took another gulp of his cocktail. Riva's hand crept slowly up his knee to his thigh and he felt a vague stirring under his shorts.
"It means an awful lot of work, of course," she went on casually, "but I think I can manage it. Of course, I certainly want to, if it will help you." She leaned even nearer to him and allowed her hand to drop over between his crotch.
His penis jerked again under his pants and his prick began to harden. What was she doing, he thought? And why was he thinking about what he was thinking about? He tugged at his collar and tie again, this time loosening it completely and unbuttoning his shirt slightly.
"Here, let me," Riva reached over obligingly and then began unbuttoning the shirt all the way to the top of his trousers and the belt buckle.
"Mrs. Thayer.. . " Ralph began, but could find no words to continue. His body was beginning to feel as if it were on fire. His cock had now hardened stiffer than he had ever felt it before. He looked at the woman who was in the process of undressing him and thought lewd thoughts of which he believed he was incapable. What would she look like without clothes? What would it be like to fuck her? He had to know. He had to find out. He gulped the last few drops in the glass as Riva finished unbuttoning his shirt and began pulling it out from its confines. The ends slid over his prick and stomach and he jerked involuntarily again.
"Could--could I have just one more?" he asked, extended his glass.
"Why certainly, Ralph," Riva took his glass, patted his stomach and the hard bulge beneath it lightly and went to the bar.
Quickly, she mixed another daiquiri; just a "plain" one this time but again heavily laced with rum. One "potion" was quite sufficient. That, coupled with the amount of rum she had put into the drinks were enough to set Mayor Ralph J. Doyle on his already flushed face. And that was exactly what Riva intended doing.
"Has anyone ever called you 'Red'? " she asked as she brought the drink back.
"Hmmmmm? What?" Ralph was beginning to feel simply wonderful. He was burning with desire. Never had he felt such delicious, painful throbbing in his prick. He was rapidly going, as the kids say, "out of this world".
"Red. Anyone ever call you that?" Riva handed him the drink. He gulped it eagerly as if his tongue was burning, which it was.
"Red? Oh. Yeah. Yeah, they--they used to call me 'Red' in school."
"I thought so," the Witch answered.
"Yeah, well it it's not only because of the color of my hair. Y'see my namesh Ralph Jered Doyle Shimpson," he slurred. Ralph Doyle was, by now, both drunk and keyed to the bursting point from the potion Riva had given him.
"I wonder," Riva began as she again sat close to him," I wonder if you've got something else that--that's red."
"Huh? What--whatdya mean?" he asked thickly and slurped at his drink.
"Oh, you know," she said lightly. "All the men always wonder if a blonde girl is really a blonde. I was just wondering if you were really a redhead."
Ralph stood up indignantly and stripped the shirt from his back, throwing it on the sofa. "You--you think I dye my hair? No sir. No sir! It's red. All of it. Red. Red, red!"
"Well, you better believe me," Ralph said drunkenly. "Ralph Doyle don't lie. No sir. Whatever else you wanna say about Ralph Doyle, he is not a liar."
"All right then. Show me."
"I'll show you. I'll show you."
Ralph began unbuckling his trousers. He was conscious of his extended penis but it didn't seem to matter. Why shouldn't he take off his clothes in front of Mrs. Thayer and show her that he was red all over? He glanced out at her from the corner of one eye as he zipped down his pants and let them fall to the floor. She had bent over a little to watch, her breasts more revealed, her lips and body even more tantalizing. He tried to step out of his pants but the bottoms were too small for his shoes. Ralph had not adopted the newer, "mod" wide trousers from the 30s. He was still Brooks Brothers, or close to it; conservative in dress, conservative in thought and deed, conservative in bed. But not today. Not at this moment. He almost fell to the floor, sat down and began yanking at his shoes. Riva smiled discreetly, reached under a table near the sofa and pressed a button. Mrs. Ross, upstairs, would activate the cameras now. Two were focused on the living room; a wide angle and an extreme close up lens.
"That's it Red. Go boy, go," Riva urged him on as Ralph nearly tore his shoes off and slung them away. He pulled off his trousers and stood up clad only in shorts and socks.
"Well," Riva smirked. "Well, what?"
"Well, go ahead, take 'em off. I can't tell anything when you've got all those clothes on."
Ralph gave the woman one more look. His thoughts were wilder now and more erotic. Yeah. Yeah. Get naked. If I get naked, she'll get naked. Then I'll fuck her. Boy, will I fuck her.
With a quick motion he drew down the shorts over his extended cock and let them fall around his ankles. His prick stood out at full length, throbbing. And there was no question that "Red" was red all over. His pubic hair glistened in the light of the lamp shade.
"See?" Ralph said, almost belligerently. "Now do you believe me?"
Riva merely smiled; her sexiest and most provocative smile, "Come to me," she murmured.
Ralph almost fell down getting to the sofa. He threw himself upon Riva and tried to pull her face to his.
"No, Ralph. Not yet. But I will kiss you. I'll do things to you, you've never even dreamed of. But first, it's your turn."
"What--whatdya want me to do?" His speech was becoming even thicker; his passion mounting by the minute.
"Well.. . " Riva began hesitatingly and even more teasingly, "you might begin by taking off your socks. Socks are such unromantic things, don't you think so?"
She rose and moved toward him as Ralph bent almost immediately and began removing them. "Besides," she continued, "I want to see you completely naked. I don't want you to even have socks on."
Ralph tossed the socks aside, grinned a silly grin and stood up. "How's that?" he asked stupidly.
"Hmmrnmm. Not bad. Turn around."
Ralph did an awkward pirouette. Riva was having him perform like an idiot for benefit of the camera grinding away upstairs, recording every idiotic move.
"Ummrnmm. You've got a nice one," she whispered and moved next to his body, rubbing her pelvis over his lust-hardened penis.
Ralph thought he would burst. Wildly, he threw his arms around her and tried to embrace and kiss her.
"Easy, Red, easy. I told you, you'll get everything you want as soon as I get everything I want."
"What--what do you want?" Ralph could barely get the words out. He stumbled to the sofa and gulped the remainder of the cocktail. He had a strange peculiar kind of vision now; it was somehow blurred, yet clearer than ever before. The woman standing before him was the most desirable female he had ever seen. All thoughts of resisting her left him as the potion took effect. He only wanted to do her bidding and please her. He had to do anything she asked. Then, maybe, she would permit him to possess her.
Riva surveyed her victim with a practiced eye. She knew how straitlaced he was; what his moral upbringing had been and how he had resisted any suggestion of "abnormal" sex. All this, her Master, Satan Himself, had conveyed to her by hidden thought. She had to be sure that the drinks and the potion had made him into a complete love slave.
"Would--would you like to see me without any clothes on?" she teased.
"Oh, God!" It was a low moan and he tried to embrace her again. She held him off with her hand. "Well, then, why don't you take off my shoes?"
Ralph slid off the sofa to the floor, sat by her feet and removed her shoes. Riva had not worn any hosiery on purpose. Her feet were bare under the stylish high heeled pumps.
"Ummmmm. That's nice. Now, you can massage my feet, darling, they're tired."
Ralph immediately took one foot in both hands and began to massage it from toe to ankle, top and bottom with firm caresses. Riva lay back on the sofa. This was going to be fun, she thought, in addition to the humiliation it would heap upon the Mayor of the town.
"That's good. Why don't you massage them with your mouth, darling?"
Riva had one fleeting moment of doubt. Would this fine upstanding man, this pillar of society and moral righteousness, actually allow himself to be conned into kissing and licking her feet?
She offered up a silent prayer to His Most Satanic Majesty and hoped He would not fail her. He didn't.
Ralph hesitated only a brief instant, then bent low to her pedal extremities and began kissing her feet. She looked down on him and watched, hoping the films would be clear.
"Lower. Lower, my darling. All over. The soles and the toes. Suck my toes," she whispered into his ear and followed that by blowing a thin, hot stream of her breath into it.
Ralph jerked again. She looked at his prick. A small bit of cum had oozed its way to the top. He was ready. Devil! Was he ever ready.
Ralph bent even lower, sprawling his nude body on the floor and took each foot in each hand. From one to the other he licked the soles then ran his tongue up and over the tops and down to the big toe. He placed it into his mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around the toe and he began sucking it.
"Oh, good, sweetheart," she told him. "Suck it. Suck it like a cock."
His oral movements became more vibrant. He moved from the big toe down in between and clasped the first to his mouth, lips and tongue. He sucked awhile then carefully ministered to each toe on each foot. His ass began swaying and swirling and he was caught up in a sexual act and desire he, himself, was amazed at. It did not matter what he did. He wanted to do anything this woman told him.
Riva let him go on briefly, enjoying herself, then decided that there was no sense in wasting film. He was ready to be taken upstairs to the bedroom. The view would be clearer there and the circumstances more comfortable.
She pulled her feet away from his mouth impatiently. "That's enough down here. Follow me!"
She rose and went to the staircase. Ralph sat on his haunches for a moment and looked at her longingly. "It's all right," she reassured him, "we're just moving where it's more comfortable. You want me to be comfortable, don't you?"
God! Did he ever. He rose and walked toward her, his penis waving like a wild thing. Riva stopped at a small table near the bottom rung of the steps, opened a drawer and took out a dog collar.
As Ralph approached her, she said, "you know Red, I've always wanted a pet and I've never had one. I've always wanted a little doggie. Will you be my little doggie?"
"Anything. Anything. Only God.. . "
"Bend down then on all fours."
Ralph obediently dropped to his hands and knees. Riva carefully fitted the dog collar around his neck, attached a leash and began leading him up the stairs. "Come on, little doggie. Come, pet." she urged and hoped to the Devil that Mrs. Ross had the cameras working properly.
Ralph followed her, hopping his way up the stairs, giving little yapping-noise imitations of a pet poodle on the way. Riva laughed as though she were pleased with his performance, urging Ralph onto even more ludicrous antics.
At the top she stopped, faced a wall where she knew a camera was trained, and commanded: "Now, sit up and beg for mama. Sit up, oooptsy.. . wooptsy."
And Ralph J. Doyle, Mayor of Garden City, sat up on his bended hind legs, hands hung limp in front and pretended to beg like a dog.
"Oh, that's a nice doggie," Riva complimented him and tousled his red hair. "Now, mummy must be nice to her little bow-wow," she finished and led him into the bedroom.
This was where the real work was to be done and where Mr. Mayor was to receive his complete humiliation. She led him to the bed, took off the dog collar and faced him.
"No more little pet, Red. How much do you want me?"
"More than anything. More than.. . " Ralph dropped to his knees and clasped his arms around her waist.
"Get up!" she commanded.
He arose a little unsteadily. "Undress me!"
He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came. He was dry-mouthed and speechless. That's what he wanted more than anything; to see this beautiful woman naked. "The zipper is behind," she told him.
He moved back of her quickly, found the zipper and pulled it straight down. It loosened her dress completely. The garment fell away and she was clad in only a bra and panties. When he hesitated she spoke a bit harshly. "Well, what are you waiting for? Take them off."
He sprang into action, fumbled for the brassiere clasp, found it, unhooked and threw it aside. The next instant his hands attempted to encompass her breasts. She forced them aside. "No. First the panties."
This action forced him to his knees again in order to draw them down around her hips and help her out of them. She steadied herself with one hand on his shoulder while she disengaged her feet from the garment, then held him down at her feet when he tried to rise.
"Kiss me now Red. Kiss me--all over!"
When he again tried to rise and find her lips, she held him in a kneeling position. "From the bottom," she instructed.
This time, Ralph didn't even hesitate. He began kissing and tonguing her from her feet straight up her legs to her loins. She spread her legs apart and ordered him inside her thighs the fleshy part. He was beginning to get the idea now and liked it. Riva could tell by the way he kissed her, and sucked and tongued and nibbled. When he reached her softly hair-lined vaginal slit she stopped him with a pressure on his head.
"Now, from the top."
He immediately arose and tried to kiss her on the lips. She turned away. "Not yet. First my ears, my neck, my breast.. . " He nodded with understanding and fell to his work. He wormed his tongue inside her ears, gently caressed her neck with his lips and carefully sucked and licked at each breast nipple until it stood out as pointed as horns.
"That's good. That's nice," she urged him on. "Now lower, lower."
He obeyed without question, kissing and nibbling at her stomach, putting his tongue into her navel as he went down, down and down again. Now his mouth rested just above her pubic hair. "Kiss it. Kiss it sweetly."
Ralph nibbled and ran his tongue over the hair, went lower and found the smooth palpitating cuntal slit. His tongue slid inside and upward to the clit. He found his target and began licking as if he had done it all of his life.
Riva fell back on the bed, spread her legs wide and into an upward arc to give him complete access. She wanted his whole tongue in her cunt. This was a virgin tongue, unsoiled by any other woman and somehow it made it better. She bent his head, played with the hair on top, twiddled at his ears and screwed her buttocks in and out on his hot, moist tongue. It was all she could do to contain herself from cumming.
One more act. One more humiliation had to be recorded on film. Then she would be free to release her feelings in a wild surge. She gently withdrew his head and mouth from the wet cummy slit and turned herself over. "My ass, sweetheart," she whispered. "Kiss and love my ass."
Ralph was too far gone to resist now. He took one look at the smooth white cheeks of the buttocks below his hungry eyes and began kissing every inch of it.
Ralph found the spot, stiffened his tongue and ran it up and down her anal entrance. Riva could contain herself no longer, she had to cum she had to. She swirled her body frontward again, pulled Ralph's head down into her cunt, wrapped her legs around his face as he buried his tongue in her and spurted her boiling cum deep up into his throat. She came and came and came. She hadn't had such a lovely orgasm inoh Devil how long?
At last she lay exhausted while Ralph still tried to lick her and moved his hips from side to side, his prick as erected as when they had begun.
Riva looked down at it and smiled a smile that could have only been duplicated by her Master, the Devil. It was almost as if He had put the idea into her head. She had thought of letting Ralph fuck her, for benefit of the camera, and later for his wife's edification. She had to smile when she thought about Rena and how she was going to react when she saw her husband kissing a woman's feet, being led around on a dog collar and leash, and finally sucking a woman's cunt and ass. The girl would do anything after she viewed the films.
Much as she wanted Ralph's prick in her at that moment, she restrained herself again. There would be time for that; plenty of time. And she was free to enjoy Ralph anytime and in any way she chose from now on. While she permitted the man to lick and suck the last of her cum from her still gently throbbing vagina slit she reached out to a night stand beside the bed and again pressed one of the conveniently-placed buttons which would signal Mrs. Ross that the show was over. She could stop the cameras now. She was going to humiliate Ralph still further but she didn't need to record it on film. She had enough!
"Stand up!" she ordered Ralph.
He immediately rose. Anticipation was in every muscle, vein and fiber of his body. He was ready to shove his hard cock into her and probably ready to spurt in a matter of seconds. That really wouldn't be any fun for her and would only satisfy him and make him think that he had conquered her. No! There was a better way to teach Ralph his final lesson.
"Now," she hissed, almost like a snake, "jerk it off."
Ralph's eyes opened slightly as he tried to wipe his brain clear and comprehend what the woman was saying. "Wha.. . what?"
"Let's go in the bathroom. I'll tease you and you jerk off into the toilet. I want to see that beautiful cum of yours spurt out and go to waste."
"But but you said.. . " Ralph began in a slight protest.
"I said nothing," Riva retorted sharply. "You want to please me, don't you?"
"Yes, but.. . "
"Then do as I say. Don't worry about losing a little sperm, Red, darling. There's plenty more where that came from, isn't there?"
With that she got up and gave his balls a tickle with one hand. The action caused his prick to jump and jerk even more violently. Then she grabbed his penis firmly in her hand and began leading him, pulling him by it into the bathroom.
It was a huge bathroom with a sunken tub, separate shower stalls and a recessed toilet bowl. His and Her wash bowls were in ebony black. She pulled Ralph to the toilet seat, raised it and began playing with his neck, ears, back and ass. "Go ahead," she urged. "Take it in your hand and jerk it off."
Almost mesmerized, Ralph found himself putting his own hand on his prick and begin jerking it up and down. The effect of the woman's hands on the back of his ass, up and down his legs made holding back impossible. He had one fleeting moment of thought, remembering when he had done it as a kid. He had been in the bathroom of his parents' house and forgotten to lock the door. He'd been sitting on the edge of the toilet stool, yanking away, beating his meat, when his mother had come in. She had taken one horrified look, then turned and ran, slamming the door. That night, his father had given him a two hour lecture on masturbation.
"It addles the brain, son," he had said. "People who do that will go crazy."
His father had scared him so that, much as he had been tempted, he had resisted the impulse, until now. As a consequence, he had had more than his share of wet dreams. The cum had to be released some way while he had courted Rena and so it had merely spurted all by itself, at night, in bed while he was asleep.
But now he was doing it to himself again really jerking it. He felt it growing hotter and hotter; harder and harder. When Riva jammed her finger unexpectedly deep up into his rectal passage he reached a climax and the cum gushed as if from an artesian well.
Riva patted his back. "That's a good boy. Good boy. Now, don't you feel better?"
Ralph nodded, dumbly and stared down at the organ in his hand which was rapidly going limp and relaxing. Riva handed him a Kleenex.
"Here, wipe it off, then wash yourself and come lie down." With that, Riva went back into the bedroom, pressed the intercom and ordered Mrs. Ross to bring a cup of specially brewed coffee for Ralph to drink. It was brewed from specially imported beans and in addition, contained a small sleeping potion designed to give Ralph some much-needed rest and wipe all bad thoughts from his mind. Riva could not erase the entire memory of Ralph's degradation from his mind, but he would only remember what he had done in vague generalities, not in specific details. That would come later, when she was ready to remind him of it.
Ralph stood over the toilet bowl and shook his head to clear his mind. It was hopeless. He was confused and tired. Very tired. He used the piece of tissue to wipe the head of his cock, felt the need to urinate, did so, flushed the toilet and went to the wash bowl. He doused his face and head in the cold, running water, soaped his penis and dried himself. When he entered the bedroom, Riva had donned a negligee and beckoned to him. "Come, Ralph lie down. You must be very tired."
"Yes, yes, I am. A little." He went to the bed and sat down on it. He was hardly aware that the door had opened and Mrs. Ross entered carrying a cup of coffee. He was not aware that now he sat naked before two strange women. It didn't seem to matter.
"Thank you, Mrs. Ross, that's all," Riva waved the old woman out curtly.
Mrs. Ross backed out slowly, but not without having observed with longing the sight of Ralph's prick. Even in its relaxed state it made her mouth and cunt water. Soon, she would be made attractive to a man like that. Soon, she too would.. . she hesitated at the door.
"I said, that's all!" Riva's voice shook her out of her day dream. She nodded and left.
"Here you are, Ralph. Drink this."
Riva held the cup to his lips and he sipped deeply. "It will make you feel better and help you rest."
Ralph drank more and finally took the cup and drained it. Then he gave a big sigh and flopped back on the bed. Within minutes he was asleep.
Riva set up a still camera and took a few fast film shots of him stretched out on the bed in the nude. They might come in handy too. Anyone who saw them was bound to ask who had taken them and why.
Ralph awoke with a start. He sat up on the bed and stared about the room for several seconds before his mind came back into focus and he remembered where he was. He rubbed his hand over his forehead and tried to clear the fuzziness from his mind. What had happened? It was all hazy and dim. He remembered getting the hots for Mrs. Thayer and that she had responded and teased him. But he couldn't remember any details. The potion he had been given had that additional side after-effect.
He got up and stumbled into the luxurious bathroom. It, too, seemed familiar but he couldn't be sure. He doused his face in cold, running water from the tap and felt better. Returning to the bedroom, he seemed to realize for the first time that he was nude and looked for his clothes in a moment of panic. His shorts, shirt and trousers were neatly folded and laid out carefully on a chaise lounge. One closet door was open. His suit jacket hung there, perfectly pressed. As he dressed he had the impression that everything had been either washed or cleaned and pressed while he had been asleep. He glanced at his watch. Five-thirty. He hadn't slept too long but he was completely refreshed the same as if he had dozed for hours.
When he finished dressing, down to the carefully tied Windsor knot of his tie, he went to the door, opened it gingerly and looked out. There was no one to be seen in the corridor. He went toward the stairway and started down. When he reached the bottom rung, Mrs. Ross appeared from nowhere.
"Mrs. Thayer hopes you had a pleasant nap. So do I," she added, just for good measure, practicing for the day when she would be entertaining good-looking young men and not merely assisting a younger woman as a servant.
"Well, thank you," Ralph said a bit hesitatingly. "Uh--where is Mrs. Thayer?"
"Oh, she had an appointment and had to go out. She asked me to tell you that she was sorry, and to give you this." Mrs. Ross produced a note in a pink envelope, heavily scented with the same perfume Ralph remembered that had enveloped Mrs. Thayer's body.
"Thank you." Ralph took the envelope and stuffed it into his pocket. "Well, I must be going too. Please uh please thank Mrs. Thayer for me and--uh and tell her I'll be in touch."
"Yes, sir," the old one replied quietly and opened the front door.
Ralph began ripping open the envelope as he walked quickly to his car. Then, in the privacy of the front seat of the automobile he read it hastily. It was hand-written in long, flowing, almost Spencerian penmanship.
"My Dear 'Red', " it began, "I did so enjoy our afternoon and I hope you did also. I will be more than pleased to accept the Chairladyship of your Committee on Urban Development and will endeavor to lend my support to as many of your civic affairs as time allows both financial and moral."
Moral, Ralph thought. The word conjured up some great sexual experiences which were most pleasant. He felt a stirring under his shorts and shifted slightly in his seat to adjust the beginning of a bulge beneath his fly. He returned his attention to the letter.
"I regret that Rena and I have not had the opportunity to know each other better. Would you please ask her to come to tea tomorrow at three? If tomorrow is not convenient for her, ask her to call me and we'll set up another time. But the sooner the better. I feel that my support and the support of the community, depends in a large degree on her. She and I ought to talk about it."
A rather cryptic remark, Ralph thought again, but in a way it made sense. Rena could do a lot toward furthering his political career. She had already helped him become Mayor. Now, with Mrs. Thayer's additional assistance, there's no telling how far he might go.
The letter concluded with: "I trust that you will prevail upon her to keep the appointment and accept my invitation. I did have a marvelous time this afternoon and I hope you will agree, on reflection, that you did too." It was signed, "Fondly, Lillian."
Ralph stuffed the note and envelope back into his jacket pocket, turned the ignition key and pulled the car out of the driveway. His first impulse was to go home. It was rather late in the afternoon. On second thought, however, he decided to drop by the office to see if he had had any calls or if his secretary had made any new appointments for him. His real reason was to destroy Mrs. Thayer's note, although it was subconscious. He didn't want to simply tear it up and scatter it along the road. "Don't be a Litterbug." Ralph was very aware of such admonitions. The Mayor must set a good example. Also, for some inexplicable reason, he didn't want to carry the note into his home and get rid of it there. He would take it to the office and burn it.
He wended his way through the heavy home-coming traffic carefully, and finally reached City Hall. He parked in the specially reserved place marked "The Mayor", got out and hurried to his office. The place was deserted. All the city employees left at 4:30 unless there was some kind of emergency.
He entered his private office by a rear door to which only he was furnished a key, went to his desk and took out the note. He re-read it once again. For a moment some strange, foreboding doubts entered his mind concerning the invitation to Rena and the rather strong words Mrs. Thayer had used. But almost immediately these thoughts were dispelled and replaced by memories of having been completely satisfied sexually, something that had not yet occurred when he had made love to Rena. He had a moment of guilt when he realized that he had "cheated on his wife", but again, those thoughts were rationalized by the fact that he needed Mrs. Thayer. What the hell! If she "went for him", who was he not to go along? He only hoped that Rena would never find out about it. And, he must not let it happen again. It was too dangerous. He had campaigned on a platform of "morality"; a return to "Law and Order", and had promised to clean up the vice in Garden City. It wouldn't do to have it become known that the young Mayor was having a love affair on the side. No. It wouldn't do at all.
CHAPTER THREE
He took the note and envelope, held it over an ash tray, and carefully put a match to it. When the flame first came into contact with the paper, there was a sudden, unusually bright burst of light. It startled him for a second. But then the fire caught and the paper began burning normally. He watched it curl and finally crumble into ashes. He checked his appointment calendar; found no unexpected call or dates, smiled happily to himself and went back down to his car. On the way he found himself again trying to remember exactly what had happened to Mrs. Thayer's. All he really knew was that he felt wonderful and that he would like to have more of the same. His penis moved slightly for the second time and he knew that he would have to resolve what he felt for Mrs. Thayer sexually with his vow not to indulge himself with her further.
The appointment Mrs. Thayer had kept was a most unusual one. It took place in the penthouse of Garden City's largest hotel and was with the most powerful underworld figure in the area Warren Howard.
Warren was a large hulk of a man. He resembled a tackle or a guard on a pro football team more than anything else. He was in his late forties and had clawed and scratched his way up the ladder of The Syndicate the hard way. He'd performed each and any task assigned to him from simple mayhem to bombings of a storekeeper's establisliment who was unwilling to "go along" with the demands that he pay protection, to out and out murder. His reward was a good-sized territory of which Garden City was a part.
Warren was "number one" in Garden City and surrounding territory. It was to him that all the smaller operators of gambling, prostitution and dope peddling paid off. The election of Ralph Doyle had posed a threat to his operations until he and Mrs. Thayer had made contact. Warren, while not even a minor "witch", was a small gnome in the Devil's hierarchy and had immediately welcomed and accepted her help when she had offered it. Howard was merely a cog in the machine of her plan to completely degrade and control the souls of Ralph and Rena Doyle. She needed him and he needed her.
"Mrs. Thayer!" he welcomed her in his booming voice. "Do come in. Siddown. Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?"
"Nothing, thank you," Riva replied, coolly. "I only have a moment. I suppose we could have discussed this on the phone, but somehow I don't trust these modern inventions." She laughed lightly, trying to make the remark a joke. Actually, it was Mrs. Ross whom she did not trust. "Step One in our plan has been accomplished. I have enough evidence on the Mayor to ruin him."
"You're the greatest, Baby," Warren said in frank admiration.
"Don't 'Baby' me, Warren, and remember your place," Riva snapped back.
"Oh. Sorry," Howard said sheepishly. "Don't get excited. I didn't mean no disrespect. It-it's just that I think you're thethe greatest, that's all."
"Now I'm ready for you," Riva told him. "I've made sure that Mrs. Doyle will be at my home tomorrow. I will show her the evidence of her husband's humiliation. She will undoubtedly go into a state of shock. You will be there to 'soothe her injured feelings', if I may put it that way."
"Boy, will I ever 'soothe' her," Howard gloated and whetted his lips. Imagine him, Warren Howard, fucking the Mayor's new uppity young bride.
"I know what you're thinking," Riva interrupted his thoughts, "but don't rush things. I want her thoroughly degraded and humiliated, like her husband. Naturally, a filmed record will be made of the entire proceedings."
"Naturally," Warren agreed. "But just one thing. Don't--don't photograph my face. I-I ain't exactly what you would call uh photogenic."
"I don't need anything more on you, Warren. And I don't think you'd be stupid enough to try to double-cross me. Not if you know what's good for you."
"Me? Double-cross you?" Warren feigned mock horror at the very thought. "Why lady, you and me is partners." He gave a raucous laugh, then broke it off. "Uhain't we?"
"As long as you obey orders and do as you're told. We couldn't care less about your petty vice here on earth. We think in terms of decades of eons."
"Yeah. Yeah, sure." Howard didn't quite know how to react to Mrs. Thayer. Most of the time she sounded like some kind of religious nut: on the wrong side, of course. But with the same zeal he had observed in other religious people. He was not interested or concerned with Mrs. Thayer's zealousness. All he wanted was her help and support. He couldn't afford to have anything happen to his set-up. It would be bad for his standing in "the family".
"Anything you say," he apologized.
"Be at my home promptly at 2:30 tomorrow. Rena Doyle has been invited for 3:00. I may need you to help me set up things and do a few chores."
Howard frowned instinctively, but immediately wiped it from his face. He didn't like being ordered around by this broad, but he had no choice. He was willing to do anything to scandalize the Mayor, and the thought of taking the Mayor's wife that proud little bitch, and fucking the living shit out of her was the most pleasant "chore" he could remember ever having been given. His prick began rumbling around inside his pants. Howard wasn't exactly a handsome man. Actually, he was rather loathsome in appearance despite the fact that he dressed in the height of fashion and did his best to keep his weight down. He was a lumbering ox: the epitome of grossness. Even so, many women had gone for him in the past really been turned on; women he had not paid or forced into submitting. He had one of the largest, longest, thickest cocks that the Devil had ever endowed a man with. He had found, throughout his life, that many women practically swoon at the sight of an unusually large penis. He was an avid subscriber to the magazines that brought "Swingers" and "Mate-swappers" together. He would read the ads and get a hard-on just visualizing the people who had placed them.
"Happily married couple a bit bored with sameness. Want to meet others of similar persuasion. Wife.. . " There followed a description of the wife's measurements. A photograph was usually also included a nude photograph. And then the word: "Husband well endowed."
Husband, well endowed. Warren Howard could certainly qualify in that category.
Mrs. Thayer got to her feet and started out. "At two-thirty tomorrow then. I'm sure you will enjoy the afternoon."
"Oh, me too," Howard blubbered. "Thanks for coming Lil.. . I mean Mrs. Thayer."
Riva swept out of the office in the penthouse regally and went to the elevator. Howard stood for a moment in the doorway and watched her sensuously swaying buttocks. It was going to be fun with Rena Doyle, Warren thought, but I'd give one of my balls just to have a roll in the hay with that way-out bitch. He enjoyed an amateur but he, personally, never got as much out of it as he did with a "pro". And Mrs. Lillian Thayer was certainly a "pro".
When Ralph arrived at his home he found that Rena had prepared a rather special dinner for him. She was a good cook and had gone to great lengths to please him. There was candle light on the table and a chilled, imported wine. His wife was certainly trying, Ralph thought. Maybe some day or night they would manage to have a complete, fully satisfactory sexual relationship.
Warren Howard arrived at Mrs. Thayer's exactly on time. If anything he was a little early. He was admitted by the venerable Mrs. Ross and ushered into the living room.
"Would you care for something to drink, sir?" Mrs. Ross inquired. "Sure. Bourbon on the rocks?"
"Certainly, sir." Mrs. Ross went to prepare the drink. "How gross," she muttered to herself. He reminds me of an animal, she went on thinking. Was there really a woman in the world who could accept and enjoy such a man if he were not powerful and wealthy? Probably, she decided. God makes all kinds and the Devil takes what he needs for His own purpose.
As she returned to Warren with the drink, Mrs. Thayer came down the stairs and also entered the room. "Ah, you're here. Good. Before Mrs. Doyle arrives, I want to brief you on a few things. You can bring your drink."
She turned and went back to the stairs. Warren took his highball from Mrs. Ross and followed her up to the bedroom. " While he sipped the wine and enjoyed the delicious roast she had prepared, he broached the subject of tomorrow's appointment with Mrs. Thayer. He tried to make it sound as casual as he could. "I saw Mrs. Thayer today," he mentioned lightly.
"Oh? How is she?"
"She's fine. Fine. Sheshe's going to head up my Committee on Urban Development."
"That's good."
"She she wants to discuss some things with you. She wants you to come to tea at three o'clock tomorrow." Ralph blurted it out in one sentence.
"What in the world could she possibly want to discuss with me? I was planning on going shopping with.. . " Rena began, but Ralph interrupted her quickly.
"No. No, you've got to keep this appointment."
For a moment, Rena looked at her husband with wide questioning eyes, a little surprised. Ralph seemed so intense.
"I-I mean she made quite a point of it," Ralph continued. "She-she wants to get to know you better. You know what people say," he said lightly, "a man is judged by his wife, darling. I sometimes think I wouldn't have been elected if it hadn't been for you. The people were voting for you as much as for me."
"Oh Ralph, that's silly."
"No, it's not. People do judge men by their wives. Mrs. Thayer can do a lot for us for me. So please keep the appointment with her tomorrow."
"Well, certainly, Ralph, if it means that much to you.
Ralph smiled back at her and relaxed. Now that that was out of the way, he could enjoy the fine food. He took another sip of wine and let it trickle down his throat. Again, he had some vague recollections of the drinks he had enjoyed at Mrs. Thayer's. Could she had put something in them? The next moment he shook off the thought. Ridiculous! Why would she do anything like that?
They finished the meal in relative silence. Ralph retired to the living room and started reading the evening newspaper. In a matter of moments, he dozed off and fell asleep. When Rena finished clearing the table and stacking the dishes she came in and found him. He was snoring. Her shoulders sagged a bit disappointedly. She had hoped that they would have a nice cozy evening together: their first since their return. Then maybe, another chance at getting together in bed. She was selfish, she reprimanded herself. Ralph had had a hard day. She must discipline herself to wait until he was in the right mood. She made a mental promise to herself not to fail him again and went upstairs to the den and watched television until she, too, dozed off in the middle of the "Tonight Show" and didn't stir until the morning's sunlight crept in through the blinds. When she went into the bedroom Ralph was sound asleep. He had evidently awakened, moved to the bedroom, undressed and promptly fallen asleep again. He was still snoring.
"This is where you and she will eventually wind up that is, after she has seen the movies. We'll show those in the den.
Mrs. Thayer went on to point out the two-way mirrors and the copious camera equipment in the corridor that ringed the room. Warren laughed gutturally. He was already beginning to enjoy himself. "Looks like one of those haunted houses in a mystery movie."
"There is no such thing as a haunted house," Mrs. Thayer told him curtly. "Oh! Well, if you say so. You oughta know," he grinned.
"Now remember, use your imagination. I want you to treat her like the cheapest and most common of whores. I'm sure you know what I mean."
"Lady, I know exactly what you mean. Don't worry. You'll get everything you want.
Mrs. Thayer and Warren Howard had already moved to the den when the door chime announced the presence of the young unsuspecting Rena Doyle. Mrs. Thayer glanced at her watch. It was three o'clock p.m. on the dot. Ralph appeared to have his wife under control. Mrs. Thayer nodded at Warren and refilled his cup with tea. There would be no more drinks served this afternoon: not until much later at least. Warren sipped the tepid liquid and tried to concentrate on what was in store for Rena Doyle and himself.
Mrs. Ross opened the door to Rena and promptly led her upstairs to the den. "Mrs. Doyle, Madame," she announced to Mrs. Thayer and Warren.
"My dear! How very nice of you to join us," Mrs. Thayer gushed and rose to greet the young bride. "This is Warren Howard, a good friend of mine. Do sit down, my dear."
Rena took the proffered seat and crossed her legs primly. She was dressed rather warmly for the day and in quite a severe afternoon frock. She had chosen it on purpose. It was of heavy taffeta: brocaded and stiff. The hem length was modest and did not conform to the modern mode. Underneath, she had chosen a fairly confining bra, a full-length panty girdle, panties and a garter belt to support her sheer nylons. Her heels were moderately high but not exaggerated.
Mrs. Thayer surveyed the young woman who sat there so haughtily and could hardly restrain a smirk of contempt. An hour from now, she won't be so proud, The Witch thought. But she only smiled and said, "Won't you join us in some tea?"
"Thank you," Rena answered politely and lowered her eyes. She had caught a glimpse of this Mr. Howard, whoever he was, leering at her: practically undressing her with his eyes. It made her nervous.
Mrs. Thayer poured the tea with a practiced hand, passed it to Rena and went on making small talk that really wasn't so small.
"Mr. Howard is a very influential man in the community. I took the liberty of inviting him also. He can be of great value to Ralph's uh I mean, Mayor Doyle's career. That is, if we can persuade him," she finished with a smile.
"Oh," Rena did her best to turn on a pleasant expression in Warren's direction. "Well, I-I'm sure my husband is grateful for all the support he can get," she said politely. "What business are you in, Mr. Howard?"
"Business?" Warren was taken aback for a fleet instant. Mrs. Thayer filled the breech immediately. "Mr. Howard has many interests: Real Estate, Insurance, Laundries, Cleaning and Dyeing Establisliments just to mention a few.
"I see," Rena sipped her tea. "It's strange we haven't met before."
"Well I-I'm outta town a lot," Warren finally managed to find his tongue as he ran his eyes up and down this outwardly proper and prim broad.
Rena took another sip of tea and then moved the conversation along. She was anxious to know why Mrs. Thayer had insisted that she come over, and even more anxious to leave the place. The whole atmosphere, including Mrs. Thayer and Mrs. Howard gave her the creeps somehow. "Well now, my husband said that you have something to discuss with me. Could we get started? I did have another appointment this afternoon and I.. . "
"Oh of course, my dear. Certainly." As Lillian continued, she began pressing a "control panel" of buttons on the end table near her seat. The draperies came together, blocking out the afternoon sun and a fairly wide, large motion picture screen lowered itself from the ceiling. "I know how much help you have been to Ralph during his campaign, and I'm sure you want to be of even more help to him during his term in office."
"Of course," Rena replied and continued to wonder what the woman was leading up to. A motion picture screen? Why?
Meanwhile, Riva kept up a steady conversational drone. "You are quite young, my dear, if you'll forgive me for saying so, and judging by what 'Red' tells me, fairly inexperienced.
"Red?" Rena thought. No one ever calls Ralph "Red" except some of his old college buddies. First she called him "Ralph," now "Red." Where does she get off, Rena asked herself and tried to bite into the tea almost viciously.
"Youyou and my husband seem to be quite well acquainted," she managed to blurt out as her face flushed and she found herself becoming slightly angry at the older woman's familiarity.
"That we are, Rena. Before we begin our little talk, I thought you'd like to know just how well acquainted we've become. So I've prepared this bit of 'entertainment' for you."
With that, she snapped off the one remaining light in the room and activated the projector. The flickering film ran through its leader for a moment then Ralph appeared on the screen, twice as big as life. It was the point at which Ralph had begun disrobing. He was unbuckling his trousers and had difficulty getting them off over his shoes. Almost falling to the floor, he sat down and yanked at his shoes, throwing them off impatiently. He stood up, removed his trousers and stood there clad only in shorts. The noticeable large bulge under them was quite evident.
Rena sucked in her breath with an audible intake. "Where did you get these? What.. . ? "
"Patience. Patience, my dear. As you can see, no one is forcing your husband to do what he does."
Rena did not want to look. She wanted to turn her face from the screen or better yet, run from the room, but something held her in an hypnotic vise-like grip. She sat and stared while Ralph waited a moment then ripped his shorts off his body, exposing his fully erected penis.
Rena let out another gasp. Even she had never seen her husband stark naked. He had always been in bed when she came into the bedroom, and clothed in pajamas. She hadn't realized what a large organ he had when it was fully extended. And what was causing the erection?
She learned in a fleet moment as the camera panned Ralph to the sofa, and he fell all over himself trying to plant a kiss on Mrs. Thayer's face. Rena reacted again when she saw Riva.
"You!" she hissed.
"I'm sorry, my dear," Riva replied in a whisper, "but it's time you learned that men are gregarious creatures."
Meanwhile Ralph had awkwardly removed his socks and pirouetted as Riva had ordered. My God! Rena's thoughts tumbled wildly. He's a stupid fool a clown. Whatever possessed him?
Rena squirmed in her chair as she saw Ralph bend to the floor and tenderly remove Mrs. Thayer's shoes, take one foot in his hand, massage it and then eagerly begin licking it and sucking her toes.
"Oh my God!" she blurted. She wanted to hide her eyes. She couldn't stand to look. Yet, she couldn't stand not to look at the lewd images of her husband on the screen.
Now Ralph was on the floor, prostrate, licking and sucking the soles of both feet and sticking his tongue into, on and between each toe. A quick close-up lingered briefly on Ralph's extended prick, and the slight bit of cum that oozed from the small tipped opening. Mrs. Ross had done her work well.
Warren Howard divided his time between trying to watch the movie and Rena Doyle. He was relishing her agony as she watched her husband's antics on the screen. He was also enjoying the man's actions. God forbid that he should ever be put under one of Riva's spells.
The film had by now progressed to Ralph's performance as a dog. When Rena saw her husband prancing and sitting up, being led by a dog collar, she began to sob. Riva knew that she had broken completely. She did not want to ply the girl with liquor. She wanted her fully conscious and aware of what she did and what was going to be done to her later. But the woman obviously needed something to prevent her from going into complete hysteria.
As the pictures continued with Ralph undressing her then kissing, licking and sucking her body all over, Riva moved to a side-bar, poured some water into it and emptied a small vial into the clear liquid. It was the combination relaxant-aphrodisiac. She brought it to Rena quickly.
"Here dear, this will make you feel better." Rena took the glass and automatically started to drink. Then she stopped. "What is it?"
"Water, my dear. Just some water."
Rena took a sip cautiously. It was indeed water. At least it tasted like water and nothing else. She drank deeply. Her entire body was burning with humiliation, but still she could not tear her eyes from the screen. Her husband had his head between her legs and was sucking and licking the woman's vagina. Her husband was doing the very thing she had suggested that he do to her and wouldn't. Why? Why? Why?
She saw the woman turn over and watched, horrified and fascinated as Ralph stiffened his tongue and put it into the woman's rectum. She wondered what else her prim, straight-laced husband would do and then saw, as Mrs. Thayer again turned over and shot her cum into Ralph's mouth. She watched him lick, gulp and swallow it. Then for some strange unknown reason her own pussy was becoming hot and irritated. And in spite of her revulsion at the obscene movie before her, she suddenly felt her own hands on her body as she began fondling her own breasts and rubbing her hands over her stomach. The lewd potion was beginning to take effect.
The light on the screen went dark. The distraught young wife thought she would scream in agony partly because of what she had seen, partly because of her own sexual needs. God, she wanted sex now. She had to have it and her drugged mind led her on. If her husband could let himself go like that, why wasn't she entitled to the same privilege and release? Her squirming jerks and movements had worked the heavy dress up over her knees. Now she lifted it still higher and pulled it up over the tops of her hose. The bare flesh between the stockings and panty girdle served to excite Warren fully. The enormous cock inside his trousers was almost fully erected and was getting damned uncomfortable. He began squirming too as he heard Mrs. Thayer's voice.
"I'm sorry, my dear," she was saying soothingly into Rena's ear. "I know this is a great shock to you, but it shouldn't be. Now, tell me the truth. You and your husband haven't had what you would call a really good sexual relationship since your marriage, have you?"
Rena shook her head from side to side and tried to restrain the intense sexual excitement she felt creeping up into her loins.
"Many men are inhibited," Mrs. Thayer went on, "even more inhibited than women. But as you saw, deep inside him, your husband is a wild man, ready and willing to do anything that will satisfy a woman."
Rena nodded and tried to control herself. It was difficult for her to concentrate on what the woman was saying. She herself was so hot, so excited, she felt that if she didn't cum soon she would collapse.
"Unfortunately," Riva went on, "there is this filmed record of your husband's sexual activities. It would be ruinous to his career if anyone ever saw that except us."
"Oh my God, no! You wouldn't!" she turned her face toward Mrs. Thayer and really saw The Witch for the first time. Riva's face was contorted with a smile and expression that would have done credit to The Devil himself. At last Rena saw her as she was and in a fleet second recognized her for what she was.
"Oh no, pleaseplease don't hurt him. I-I'll do anything. Anything!"
"I thought you would, my dear. You are a very sensible and I might add sexy young lady. Mr. Howard will be most happy to oblige. Won't you, Warren?"
Howard was having a large problem restraining himself. He had never been so hot in his life. "Boy, will I ever," he managed to get out.
Riva turned back to Rena. Her voice became like cold steel. "You will obey every instruction given you and do everything you are told. If you don't these motion pictures will be made public."
"No. No, please!"
"Take her into the bedroom!" she ordered Warren curtly.
"Okay, baby, let's go." Warren managed to get himself and his cock up out of the chair. He took Rena by the hand and pulled her relentlessly into the bedroom.
Riva left by another door, entered the corridor and found Mrs. Ross waiting. "Ready?" she asked.
The old one nodded and moistened her lips. Even she was going to enjoy this. It wasn't often that Riva had the privilege of so thoroughly degrading and humiliating two such young tender souls. She glued her eye to a camera and prepared to again make a filmed record of Rena Doyle's fall from grace.
Warren wasted no time on formalities once he had Rena alone in the bedroom. He had even forgotten that the entire incident was being photographed. He sat sprawled on the chaise lounge and began giving the young bride orders.
"Okay doll, let's see the pussy!"
When she hesitated, his voice became rougher. "Come on, come on. Strip!" Rena's hands instinctively went to the zipper behind her dress. She yanked it completely down, eased her arms out of the sleeves and let it drop to the floor.
"Oh Christ, kid, you've got too many clothes on. "Take 'em off, take 'em off," Warren began clapping his hands and chanting in a mock example of the audience at a stag or burlesque show.
Rena's mind was torn between the humiliation she felt at showing her body to this completely strange animalistic man and her desire to protect her husband's reputation, get even with him and satisfy her own desires that permeated her entire body from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. She began wiggling out of her panty girdle.
"You mean you women still wear those, those things?" Warren asked lewdly as he watched her pull the heavy elastic down over her hips exposing her panties and the light blonde triangle of pubic hair that barely shone beneath their silken sheerness.
"Come on, baby, faster. I haven't got all day," he urged her and had to turn to one side and adjust his thick prick again as it began jerking.
Rena did her best. She felt herself actually wanting to denude her body before this man. Doing it to save her husband was one thing. Buy why should she actually want to do it? She hastily unhooked the garter belt from her hosiery and let them drop around her legs.
"That's good. That's nice sweetie. Now the bra. Lemme see those big fat tits you've been hidin'! "
With almost studied carefulness, she unclasped the brassiere and let it fall on the floor. Her large firm breasts burst into full view. Warren exhaled sharply in appreciation. His mouth began watering again when he saw the hard pin-pointed nipples jutting out. The potion was doing its work well.
"Come 'ere!" he ordered harshly.
Rena walked toward him slowly, clad now in only the panties, garter belt, stockings and shoes. She caught a glimpse of her swaying, tantalizing body in the four mirrors lining the walls of the room. It was like a kaleidoscopic effect.
"Siddown!" Howard ordered her again and pulled her to his lap. The twin cheeks of her buttocks felt good even through the panties, rubbing against his lust-hardened prick. He cupped both hands around her firm white tits and began kneading them, pausing to twist the nipples: snapping a finger at them to irritate them still more. Then pulling her back, he planted one of his vilest wettest kisses on her mouth. His tongue forced her lips wide as he probed the inside of her palette, her tongue crushing and pressing her breasts at the same time. He held his mouth clamped to hers and began sliding his hands down the sides of her body, over her stomach, past the panties, lingering a moment to press a palm against the blonde hair and then dug a finger through the sheer material into her vagina roughly. She tried to moan and squirm away from the brutality of his handling, but his hands and arms held her torso tightly while his weight on her face pinned her down.
He fumbled for the garter clasps, found them open, reached for the top of her panties and ripped them off in one fast motion. Now the tops of her nylons hung loosely, and the blonde pussy was fully exposed between the opening to her crotch in the garter belt. With another quick move, he released his grip on her mouth, turned her over and began fondling the twin mounds of her smooth white buttocks, gripping her neck and head firmly with the other hand. Her face was buried in his own crotch. He felt her hot breath on his stiff cock even through his trousers. He ran his hand teasingly over each buttock cheek and up and down the warm white crevice, pausing to insert a finger in the tiny anal hole. She moaned again as the rough digit violated the small opening. It only served to excite him more. He screwed and twisted his finger up into her, skewering her firmly.
"Pull down the zipper!" he ordered again. Rena could hardly move. Her arms and hands flayed helplessly.
"Pull it down, I said," Warren repeated in a low animal-like voice. "Pull it down and take it out."
Somehow she managed to raise up sufficiently to get one hand under herself and in the doing, forced Warren's finger further up her ass-hole. It didn't feel quite as painful now that the initial insertion had been made. She could feel her own passion mounting, her cunt becoming moist as she felt for the top of his fly and pulled down the zipper.
"Take it out, baby. Take it out and kiss it."
Warren lifted her body slightly to enable the impaled girl to carry out his orders. With that motion he worked his free hand between her legs and inserted two fingers into her cunt. Now he had her skewered with both hands, front and back. He worked them furiously in opposite directions, finger-fucking and finger-reaming at the same time.
Rena's hand finally found the enormous organ inside Warren's shorts and struggled to release it. Warren shifted from side to side as she worked the member through the opening and brought it into view. It came out with a whoosh and stood waving not two inches from her face. She looked at it with a combination of fascination and horror. She had never seen anything as large not even in medical photographs and books. On the screen, she had thought that her husband's penis was extraordinary, but it was nothing compared with the thick long blood-filled rod that now tickled her lips, her nose and chin.
Warren dug his finger again, suddenly and deeper into her ass-hole and cunt. "Suck it, baby suck it good."
Rena felt a sickening feeling of revulsion engulf her whole being. She had thought of pleasing Ralph in this way if he had wanted it, but this this creature this animal. But she could not refuse even if she wanted to. And the next moment, she didn't want to. All resistance was gone. She closed her mouth over the head, her teeth scraping the thick skin as she went down.
"Easy! Easy you fucking bitch. You bite me again and I'll slap you senseless. I said, 'suck it."
Rena released the pressure slightly, opened her lips a bit and tried to keep her teeth out of the way. Then with a slow sawing motion, up and down, down and up, she began fucking herself in the mouth with Warren's prick. She almost choked, but she kept at it. Her own pussy was dripping by now as Warren worked a third finger into it.
Warren permitted himself a glance into one of the mirrors. Any way or side he looked he could see the helpless girl, lying face down on his lap, sucking his cock, his own fingers and hands torturing her anus and vagina unmercifully.
Behind the two-way mirrors, both Riva and her assistant were enjoying the view as voyeurs. Riva's breath began coming in short gasps as she, herself, began feeling heat creeping up between her legs. "Now strip her," she hissed. "Strip her and fuck her."
Warren could not possibly have heard the instructions inside the bedroom, but almost as if he had, he removed his hands from inside either side of Rena's tenderest parts, shoved her head and mouth deep down on his prick, reaching into the lowest region of her throat he could probe, then yanked her back quickly and literally threw her on the bed. He was a man of enormous strength with thick biceps and heavy muscles. She was like a feather in his arms.
She leaned on her back and just lay there, panting for breath. "Take off the garters and stockings," he commanded, then as a second thought, "and the shoes."
Rena was too weak physically and too far gone passionately to resist any lewd suggestion or order the man gave her. She reached behind herself, undid the garter belt, threw it to the floor, raised her legs, one at a time and pulled off her nylons, kicking her shoes to the floor in the same motion.
Warren at the same moment, had ripped off his coat, shirt, unbuckled his pants, dropped them to the floor and stripped off his shorts. He, too, was now naked, except for his shoes and socks. He moved to the foot of the bed as Rena had raised her legs to remove her hosiery, exposing the pink moist slit of her vagina to the full expanse of his view.
"That's it you bitch. Hold it, right like that."
Rena paused, feet in the air, legs apart, and watched horrified, as Warren climbed between her legs and over her, his cock rubbing over the wet flesh of her opened vagina. Her clitoris had emerged, hung loose at the top of the thin hair-lined slit and throbbed.
"Now I'm gonna fuck you, you cunt, like you ain't never been fucked before," Warren grunted hoarsely as he took the thick head in his hand and guided it toward the soft fleshy flanges.
"Oh God! Please-please don't hurt me," Rena found herself begging. She couldn't take it. She just couldn't imagine herself filled with that enormous monster. It had been all she could do to get her mouth and lips around it. How could she take it in her small, tight vagina. He would kill her. She knew it. Yet, she wanted it. She could not contain the longing and passion she felt. It was halfway the potion and half the frustration she remembered when she had tried to have "normal" intercourse with her husband.
"Hurt you? You'll love it!" Warren responded. "Tell me how much you love it!"
"I-I love it," she whispered.
"Can't hear you. Tell me, cunt. Say 'fuck me.'"
"I can't," Rena buried her face in her hands.
"Oh yes you can." Warren pressed forward and shoved. Moist and wet and ready as she was, the young girl's opening could not fully accommodate a penis the size of Warren's. He wormed half of it into her and she screamed, "Aaauugghh!"
"Say it, say it!" Warren kept gurgling and inched the great cock inside still further."
"Oh God, yes. Fuck me. Fuck me!"
"Say please!"
"Please fuck me! Oh God. Aaauughh!"
Rena thought she would faint as Warren gave one last buttock jarring heave and shoved his cock into her up to the hilt. His balls flapped hard against her ass and made lewd contact. He had cruelly lifted her legs higher and higher wider and wider forcing them back against her breasts and face. She was rolled up now in a tight little ball. Warren reached his hands toward her ass again and grabbed both cheeks. He pressed her in close and began a slow, rocking rhythmic motion. Slowly, one hand went to her exposed clit above his prick, the other returned to the pink anal hole. Without regard for her pain and hurt, he shoved in two fingers at once and impaled her again from front and rear. The girl was helpless under him. Great tears welled in her eyes, but this only infuriated him.
"Stop crying, you silly bitch," and he clamped his mouth to hers and completed her humiliation with his tongue.
Rena could not contain herself. The combination cock, finger, tongue was too much. Her entire body rose up to meet each thrust. She met fuck for fuck and began pounding her cunt and ass against a man she wouldn't have spit on an hour ago. A great shudder ran through her entire body. It was as if the top of her head had suddenly been dismembered.
"Auuaaggh! Christ! I'm cumming. I'm cummmmiinngg!" And she gave hungering naked loins completely to the human animal who was sunk deep inside her tight quivering little belly.
The cries, moans and sudden eruption of the new bride was more than Warren could stand. He had wanted to hold off: fuck her in the mouth again, maybe in the ass, but he couldn't. Despite his control, he suddenly jerked, yelled and shot a hot jet of boiling cum deep into her quivering cunt.
"Great, baby, great," he grunted and shoved against her a final time. He lay still for a moment, his large frame completely engulfing her.
Inside the corridor Riva was hissing again. "Get up. Get up so we can see her laying there."
Warren wearily pulled himself out of Rena's vagina. He was spent and so was his penis. It was still large, even when deflated. It hung like a wild dejected thing, still oozing cum. He back off from the bed, thus giving the cameras an opportunity to photograph every inch of Rena's violated body. Her lovely blonde pubic hair glistened, partially with her own cum, partially with her own cum, partially with what the brutish like man had ejaculated into her. Her legs were still spread obscenely apart as if she hadn't the strength left to close them. Mrs. Ross panned and tilted the camera slowly, taking in every inch of the girl's condition.
"Now the bathroom," Riva hissed again.
Warren had started into the bathroom but stopped with a sudden thought. Mrs. Thayer's mental telepathic influence was reaching him. He turned back and snarled at the pitiful figure on the bed. "Get up!" he ordered. "What?"
"I said, 'get up," Warren repeated. "Come with me."
Rena slowly lowered her legs and wearily rolled off the bed and got to her feet. She half-stumbled toward Warren and followed him into the bathroom.
Warren went to the wash-basin. He happened to land at the one marked "Hers." He dangled his prick over the edge and put his hand on Rena's back, rubbing his fingers up and down and again tickling her.
"Wash it off," he told her.
Rena took the giant organ (even in repose), picked it up gently in her hands, turned on the water, soaped her hands and began stroking and washing it while Warren continued playing with her back, her smooth rounded buttocks and her tits. God! he thought, if she keeps this up long enough, I'll be ready again.
She rinsed the prick carefully, took a large towel and dried it. "Good. Good girl," he told her. "You learn fast." For a minute, he wondered if Mrs. Thayer would like him to piss in the girl's face. He felt the urge to urinate. But he reconsidered and restrained himself. All that could come later when Mrs. Thayer's purpose had been served and she turned the lovely young creature completely over to him. What a whore she was going to make. All she needed was a little more experience.
"Okay," he grunted and left her alone to clean herself up as best she could. He returned to the bedroom and put his clothes on. Riva was waiting for him. "Okay?" he asked.
"Very good, Warren," The Witch replied. "You can go now. Leave her to me."
Warren finished dressing hastily and started out. Then he turned with another thought. "I-I will get another crack at her, won't I?"
"Oh, indubitably," Riva replied. "And when you finish, there can always be a reward for your--your assistants?"
Warren stopped at the door. It hadn't occurred to him. He laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, wouldn't that be something. A gang fuck with the Mayor's wife! They won't believe it!"
"I'll arrange it," Riva assured him and waved him out. She went to the bathroom, opened the door unceremoniously with no consideration for any privacy and looked at Rena who was sitting on the toilet stool.
"Very good, my dear. You performed admirably. I think that you and your husband and I understand each other. I will let you know when I require your services again."
With that she closed the door and left the room.
Rena spent at least an hour in the bathroom trying to scrub the uncleanness she felt from her body, but it was no use. The potion was beginning to wear off, but its side effects remained. Despite her revulsions, she could not help admitting that she had been satisfied sexually for the first time in her life. But the way it had been done was too much. How would she face Ralph? What would she tell him? Then she remembered the films of him that she had seen. He had some explaining to do too. After all, he didn't know about her. She did know about him. Unless.. . ? A horrible thought crossed her mind. What if what if Mrs. Thayer had taken movies of her performance too?
Mrs. Ross was, at the moment, in the process of developing them even as a dejected and confused young Rena Doyle went downstairs and left the house.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ralph had left his office early again that afternoon. He had tried to work, see the various committees and individual callers that always occupy the Mayor's time, but he couldn't. Every time he tried to concentrate, his mind returned to his experience with Mrs. Thayer. He had finally been initiated into the mysteries of pure, unadulterated, abandoned sex and the more he savored the memory, the more he realized that he had enjoyed it. Try as he might, he still could not remember the details of his experience and this annoyed him. He wondered if he had fucked her. It didn't seem to him that he had. He also found himself wondering just why the woman had been so insistent on seeing Rena. No doubt she would tell him as soon as he went home. So, that's what he decided to do; leave the office early and go home. He would be there, waiting for Rena when she came back from her "tea party" with Mrs. Thayer.
Rena found him there when she arrived. He was in the den mixing a highball and seemed to be in good spirits.
"Hi, hon," he greeted her. "Have a good time?"
Rena's first impulse was one of relief. From his attitude and general mood, Ralph evidently suspected nothing. Her next thoughts were ones of anger and contempt. How could he stand there grinning and sipping a drink after what she had seen him do to that woman? But then she remembered that her husband was a charming politician. He was trained to conceal his true feeling and emotions. He undoubtedly didn't know that Mrs. Thayer had made a photographic record of his actions. But if he didn't, why had he been so insistent that she keep the appointment with Mrs. Thayer? These were all questions that needed answers. She debated for a fleet instant what her position and attitude should be. Should she tell him what had transpired confess everything? No! Why should she? The potion that Mrs. Thayer had given Rena was a slight variation on the one she had given Ralph. Both contained aphrodisiacs and tranquilizers, but Ralph's had been stronger and was memory erasing to a degree, burying most of his experience and actions deep in his subconscious. Rena could remember vividly every humiliating act she had performed and the way in which she had permitted herself to be used and enjoyed by that horrible Warren Howard person.
Her attitude of anger superceded her fear of exposure, but she put on her best smile and resolved not to let her husband know the truth--not for the time being anyway. The question in her mind was: "Would he now make love to her with as much abandon as he had with Mrs. Thayer?" She intended to find out as quickly as possible.
She went close to him and rubbed herself lewdly against his body, offering her lips to him. When he responded, she kissed him wetly and passionately, her tongue probing deep into his mouth. It was something she hadn't done before with quite so much enthusiasm. He pressed himself against her for a moment, then broke away, embarrassed.
"Hey! What'd you have over there? It's only five o'clock."
"Believe it or not," she answered gaily, "nothing. Just some tea and a glass of water. But I'll have a drink now, darling. Bring it upstairs while I get out of these warm clothes and make myself comfortable."
With that, she swept out of the room, deliberately shaking her buttocks as provocatively as possible. Ralph watched her with a puzzled expression. What the hell had happened at Mrs. Thayer's. Oh well. Rena would tell him in her own good time. And if she didn't, he'd worm it out of her somehow. He mixed himself another drink and one for Rena and took it to the bedroom. Rena had already stripped herself of clothes and was lying stark naked on the bed. She raised her arms to him and beckoned him forward.
"Rena!" He went to the bed and handed her the drink. She gulped deeply as if the alcohol would help rid her mouth of the memory of Warren Howard's thick prick and the taste of it still lingering on her tongue and lips.
"Why don't you get comfortable too?" she asked suggestively. "Rena, it's only a little after five."
"So what? Are we making love by the clock now? Do we have to make love only when it's dark and we can't see each other?" With that she dropped her hand to his leg, inched it up to the crotch and gave his penis a squeeze.
Ralph's thoughts became wild. What in the hell had gotten into his wife? What had Mrs. Thayer told her? He was reasonably sure that the woman didn't want to break up his marriage or ruin him in the town. She had indicated as much. No! He put the thought out of his mind. Lillian Thayer was trying to make his marriage happier. She was trying to break down all the moral do's and don't's that had been instilled in him and Rena since childhood. She must be something of a psychologist, that woman. Rena was certainly in the mood for sex, and so was he now. This time it would be better. He gulped his drink, took another look at his young wife's naked body stretched out on the bed and began taking off his clothes.
He started into the bathroom when Rena's voice stopped him. "Don't, Ralph!"
"What?"
"Don't go in there. Take off your clothes in here, where I can see you."
For a moment he was nonplussed. What magic had Mrs. Thayer worked on his prim, prissy wife? Then he had a second thought. Perhaps it wasn't his wife who was prim and prissy. Maybe it was he, himself. He grinned at her as she sipped at her drink.
"My, we are sexy today, aren't we?"
"I don't know about you," she replied, and rolled her body toward him, spreading her legs and exposing her still hot vaginal mouth to his view.
Ralph began hastily divesting himself of his clothes. For the first time he didn't care about convention or what was nice, or being gentle with his wife. He literally threw off his coat, shirt, pants, stumbled out of his shoes, pulled off his shorts and fell into bed. His arms engulfed Rena's eager body as she put her drink on a night stand and wrapped her arms around her husband. She pressed her thighs and pussy into his hardening prick and opened her mouth wide for his tongue.
This was a new, wildly-sexed Rena that Ralph had never known before. He could hardly contain himself as he moved his hands up and down her back and pressed her breasts with all the fervor of true love.
Rena felt her lubricating juices surging into her cunt and rolled over still further on top of her husband, then slid down his stomach and began tickling his cock with her tongue.
"Oh, God, Rena!"
She began sucking him, and as he erected and hardened into full bloom, turned herself around until she lay with her cunt on his chin. "Do it to me too," she whispered back at him hoarsely. "Do it to me."
She sucked at his prick harder, nibbling her lips up and down the head and the sensitive seminal canal. At the same time, she practically forced the lips of her cunt into his mouth. He grabbed at it eagerly with his tongue, found the opening and her extended clitoris and began to return her kisses in kind. Rena Doyle and her husband were locked in a "69" and giving to each other in a way they had never imagined.
Ralph thought he would burst. He had to have her. He wanted to fuck her good and deep and full this time. She was his wife and he wanted her more than anything in the world. With a rough, sudden motion (for him), he yanked her head back, grabbed her body and, spreading her legs, turned it on the bed. The next minute he was on top of her, searching for the ready, moist slit. He shoved his prick into her without further preparation. She gave one small cry and closed her legs around his waist.
Ralph jammed his cock into her to the hilt. His toes clawed at the bedspread for leverage trying to probe her vagina deeper. His balls slapped against her naked anal mouth as she raised herself to meet every thrust. Her belly met his as she gave as much as she received.
Together they swayed, rocked and pounded. Ralph raised her legs as high as possible, forced them back into her breasts, placed both hands on her buttocks and began fondling her tiny, puckered rectal opening. Rena gave another small cry. "Auuuuuuuugh, that's marvelous. More. More, darling."
He inserted a finger and wormed it into the tight, resisting hole. The next moment he felt Rena's hands on his ass. She was pressing him in. Her finger, too, found his anal opening and was probing it.
They impaled each other deeper and deeper and before he could stop himself, he spurted his hot, scalding cum deep, deep down inside her. They finally made it. They were, at last, one. Locked together in the heat of unabashed passion they had both had a simultaneous orgasm that left them limp and exhausted.
"Oh, my God!" Ralph managed to spit out as his prick jerked for a final time and he began going soft.
"Or, the Devil," Rena said cryptically, and wondered what lay in store for them now. As angry as she had been at Mrs. Thayer earlier as humiliated as she had felt when she had been forced to give herself to Warren Howard, this experience with her husband had made it seem like a dream; a nightmare to be forgotten. She made it with Ralph, and everything was going to be all right!
A few days later Mayor Doyle received a visit from Mrs. Thayer in his office. Although he was quite busy, he didn't dare keep her waiting.
"Show Mrs. Thayer in," he told his secretary, "and I'll take no calls until she leaves. I don't wish to be disturbed for anything."
"Yes, sir," the young girl murmured, and went out to fetch Mrs. Thayer.
Ralph found himself watching her ass move as the cute trick left. It was something he wouldn't have even thought of a week ago. His experiences with Mrs. Thayer and finally with Rena had definitely made him "sex conscious." He was looking at attractive women and girls with an entirely different eye. He measured, theoretically, the size of their breasts, noticed the shape and contour of their legs and thighs, visualized their pussies, and definitely enjoyed watching the cheeks of their asses bounce and sway from side to side as they walked. He was also finding his own sexual capacity and desires becoming more frequent. Ralph had always been an intense young man. He had been taught that his studies and business came first; pleasure second. Now, he was conscious of his penis stirring inside his trousers with greater and greater frequency. Many times during the day he had to shift his position to keep it from becoming too uncomfortable and will himself to concentrate on the matters at hand.
He rose to welcome Mrs. Thayer's entrance, smiled, and assumed his best and most charming manner. "Mrs. Thayer Lillian how good to see you again."
"Hello, Red," she replied. She had no intention of permitting the Mayor to forget their intimacies. She wasn't certain whether Rena had told him about the filmed record she had made, but if Rena hadn't, she would, in due time, and as it suited her purpose.
"Do sit down," the young Mayor said almost obsequiously. "I trust you've come to discuss our Committee."
Riva took the proffered chair, crossed her legs provocatively, showing a vast expanse of leg and thigh, and lit a cigarette. "Well, frankly, Red, no. There is more urgent, important business at hand."
"Oh, really? Well, let's have it. I'm all ears."
"First, you tell me how your wife and you are getting along."
"Getting along?" Ralph was a little puzzled by the question. "Why, fine. Just fine. Why?"
"Have you noticed any change in her?"
Ralph paused for a moment. He wasn't quite sure what the woman was getting at but he had an idea that it was probably sexual. He knew that he had indulged in sex with her even though he still couldn't completely remember the details. There was no reason not to be perfectly frank with her, he finally decided.
"Welluhyes. Now that you mention it," he finally found his tongue. "Sheuhshe does seem to be more abandoned, sexually. We uh we have a much better relationship now than when we were first married."
"Good. That's what usually happens and I'm glad."
Ralph paused again to bolster up his courage and ask the question that had been on his mind ever since Rena had returned from that "tea party" at Mrs. Thayer's home. "Say, would you tell me something?"
"Anything you wish," Riva replied cordially. This fool was going to play right into her hands, just as before. She had been all prepared to act the "heavy". It wasn't going to be necessary.
"Well, I was wondering," Ralph began in his usual hesitant way, "I was wondering just what went on over at your house that afternoon."
"Oh, it was most interesting, Red. Almost as entertaining as the day you were there. We had some tea and I showed Rena my wonderful movies of you."
Ralph's face went white. "Movies?" he managed to get out. "Of me?"
"A complete record on film of your marvelous antics. Rena was a little shocked at first, but she soon recovered."
"Antics? Whatuhwhat kind of antics?"
"You mean you don't remember?"
Ralph shook his head negatively and admitted that his actions were a little hazy in his memory. Whereupon, Mrs. Thayer gave him a blow-by-blow, suck-by-suck account of the paces she had put him through, including the bit with the dog collar. As she spoke, Ralph began blushing a deep red. It matched his hair. He rose from his large mayoralty swivel chair and went to the window. He couldn't face the woman while she recounted his lewd, degrading and obscene acts.
Finally, he interrupted long enough for one question. "You you mean you-you were photographing everything I did?"
Riva merely nodded, smiled, and took a deep drag on her cigarette.
"And-and you showed those movies to Rena?"
Riva gave him another amused smile. "But she-she didn't say anything to me about it."
"Of course not, Red. She rather liked the idea of finding out that you were a real man a human being instead of a human computer. What was her reaction to you in bed after that?"
"Great! She didn't seem like the same woman."
"That's right. And you aren't the same man. I'm sure she enjoys the new Ralph Doyle. You should both be grateful to me."
"Oh, I amI am, Mrs. Thayer, believe me."
"Good. I expect that, deep down, Rena is too. You see, she had quite an experience at our little tea party also."
"Experience?"
"Yes, indeed."
Riva now launched into a minute, detailed account of Rena's actions with Warren Howard. She left out nothing. Ralph began twisting his hands, rubbing his neck and finally loosened his well-tied Windsor knot at his collar. "I-I don't believe it!" he finally blurted.
"Red, you know I never lie. If you doubt me, come to the house and I'll show you my movies of Rena."
"Oh, my God! Oh, you--you bitch!"
"Not quite, but you're close," Riva smiled again and lit another cigarette.
Ralph turned and perhaps for the very first time really looked at the woman closely. As she sat there, exhaling a cloudy stream of cigarette smoke from her mouth and nostrils, Ralph had the same fleeting insight into who and what the woman really was as Rena had experienced. His puritan, logical mind refused to accept it, but he couldn't rid himself of the feeling and impression that this woman was, somehow, "inhuman".
Meanwhile, Riva had continued her conversation. "The man in question the one I told you about--is outside. I think it's time you met him."
"You mean, here?"
"Of course. Mr. Howard is a business man, just like you. He has some business to discuss. Would you ask your secretary to have him come in?"
Ralph moistened his lips. He didn't like the way things were going at all. But what could he do? He pressed the intercom on his desk and instructed the girl in the outer office to ask Mr. Howard to come in.
In a moment, Warren Howard strode into the Mayor's office. He was, as usual, attired in the latest fashion money could buy. But in Warren's case, clothes did not "make the man". He was like a bull in a china closet.
"Mr. Howard, meet Mayor Doyle," Lillian made the introductions.
Ralph shook hands with the animal reluctantly. "How do you do, Mr. Howard. Won't you sit down?"
"Don't mind if I do," Warren smirked. "Nice little office you've got here. You oughta have a bigger one Your Honor," he stated with over-enthusiasm and in a loud, raucous voice. "Have a cigar."
"No thank you," the Mayor replied and hoped he wasn't offending the man. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was in trouble--deep trouble.
"All right, Warren," Riva picked up the ball and ran with it, "the Mayor is a busy man, let's get down to business."
"Sure, sure. Well, Mr. Mayor.. . " he began.
"You can call him 'Red', Warren. All his friends call him 'Red', isn't that so, 'Red'? "
"Uhuh, yes, certainly. Any friend of Lillian's is a-a friend of mine," Ralph managed one of his usual clich's.
"Great! Okay, Red, this is the deal, see? My associates and me have got a pretty good thing goin' in Garden City. Oh, it extends into the County, too, but Garden City is our biggest operation 'specially during conventions. Know what I mean?"
Ralph squirmed in his seat. The name "Warren Howard" was beginning to ring a bell. He had been told about a vice syndicate when he was running for election. Warren Howard had been whispered as the head man.
"No, no, Mr. Howard," he was stalling for time, "I uh I'm not really quite sure what you do mean."
"Oh. In that case, I'll just lay it right on the line. You play ball with us, we play ball with you."
"What--what kind of ball?"
"Just see to it that there ain't no trouble here. Now, I know you ran on a campaign to 'clean up vice' and all that other talkin' crap, and we'll even help you with that too. You can have your boys make a couple of raids now and then. We'll even give you a couple of the boys to arrest and bring charges against. But no rough stuff. Understand? My book parlors and houses continue just like before. And no narc raps either."
Ralph swallowed hard and looked at Mrs. Thayer. She merely smiled, crossed and re-crossed her legs and puffed harder on her cigarette. "That's the way it is, Red."
"But the people," Ralph protested. "They-they'll crucify me. If I don't do what I promised, they'll never elect me again."
"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that," Riva replied calmly. "You have powerful forces on your side now, Red. You'd be surprised what can be accomplished. The 'people'! " and she almost spat out the word with contempt, "can be manipulated to do almost anything, if they're approached in the proper way."
"She's right," Warren agreed.
Ralph struggled with his conclusion for a long moment, then finally shoved his chair to the wall and got up. "No! No, I won't do it!"
"I think you will, Red. Even if you don't care about yourself, surely you wouldn't want your wife disgraced along with you."
"My wife? You can't prove anything. Anyway, how do I know you're telling the truth? It could all be a pack of lies. You're good at that."
"Indeed I am," Riva maintained her cool. "But in this case I am not lying. If you don't believe me, come over to my home again and I'll show you her little home movies."
Ralph's mouth dropped to the floor. He almost lost his balance and had to steady himself on the chair. "Youyou took pictures of her too?"
"Excellent shots, my dear Mayor. I think you'd enjoy seeing them."
"Yeah," Warren chimed in. "She was a great fuck. Hot little bitch."
Doyle wanted to punch the man in the mouth, but it was useless. He was no match for the man physically and certainly no match for Mrs. Thayer mentally.
"Don't be so down-hearted, Red. Things could be a lot worse. Warren, here, will see to it that the City gets a handsome payoff. You'll be able to lower taxes for the property owners and the whole town will be grateful to you."
"Sure!" Warren agreed. "Unless, of course, you'd rather put the dough in your own pocket. Who's to know?"
"Of course not!" Ralph replied vehemently. "I wouldn't take a dime of your filthy money."
Riva shrugged. "That's entirely up to you. Meanwhile, we understand each other. You don't interfere with Warren, and your reputation--and Rena's remains a safe secret with us." She rose and turned to Howard. "I think that's all for now, Warren. We mustn't take up any more of the Mayor's time. He's a very busy man."
"So long, Red," Howard threw over his shoulder as he and Mrs. Thayer left the office.
Ralph Doyle slumped back into his chair. What was he going to do? The answer came almost immediately. Nothing! Mrs. Thayer and Warren Howard now ran the town. He was the people's representative in name only!
Mrs. Thayer and Warren Howard took full advantage of their power over the Mayor. Riva envisioned and made plans for further "parties" while Howard opened more houses of prostitution and crooked gambling joints. There wasn't a thing the Mayor could do about it.
Howard was as circumspect as possible but it didn't take long before the word got around that Garden City was a "wide open city". Whores from Reno, Vegas, New York, Chicago, and even as far south as New Orleans flocked to Garden City. The town council and Chamber of Commerce were torn between their puritanical horror and the tremendous amount of business that gambling and women-availability brought into the city's coffers by virtue (if that's the word) of the number of organizations that suddenly found the town an ideal place in which to hold their conventions.
Warren Howard, true to his word, and herded over by Riva, took out all proper licenses and saw to it that the city's Treasurer received all taxes due from his illegal operations. From time to time, when self-styled "Morality Groups" and Committees visited Mayor Doyle to complain about the "appalling conditions" in their fair city, Ralph denied the allegations vehemently, professed to know nothing about what was going on, and pointed with pride to the abundant amount of money in the treasury and the fact that his "surplus" enabled him to authorize new schools, playgrounds, parks, and other municipally-sponsored advantages at no cost to the taxpayers.
Mrs. Thayer, also, took full advantage of the city's "growth". The more industry and new population acquired by Garden City, the more constant and lavish her "parties" became. Soon, she was the most sought-after hostess in town. All the "big-wigs" vied to be invited to her home. Gradually, and with perfect timing, Riva saw to it that the "entertainment" provided became more and more "interesting". As the liquor flowed in greater abundance, as her guests began losing their inhibitions (thanks to some of her delightful potions), she introduced wilder and newer "games" into the proceedings.
Most of those favored with her invitations were in the age groups between early thirty and middle forty. Most had been married anywhere from five to ten years or longer, and most had begun to tire of their partners where sex was concerned. Their bedroom activities, if almost non-existent, were simply a matter of routine. They went through the motions but they did not really enjoy themselves any longer.
To enhance their pleasure and titillate their excitement, Mrs. Thayer almost managed to come up with some new variation on sex play. For example, she introduced a novel "game" called "Post Office Special Delivery". As she explained to the gathering when they were in the proper mood, frame of mind and sufficiently "loose" from the liquor and potions: "Now, I'm sure all of you dear people remember playing 'Post Office' when you were just children. Well, 'Special Delivery' is just an adult version. As you remember, in 'Post Office' it was always the girl who had the privilege of 'choosing' who they wanted to 'deliver the mail'. The same thing holds true here. All you girls line up on one side of the room the men on the other."
As she announced the rules, Mrs. Ross quietly passed among the guests and handed out note paper and envelopes and the refined ladies and gentlemen obeyed Mrs. Thayer's instructions to separate into female and male contingents.
"Mrs. Ross is providing you all with paper, pencils and envelopes. Each of the girls will write the name of a man on the envelope and print a note to him to be sealed inside giving him any 'instructions' you wish." The "ladies" could not help but suppress a giggle when their hostess said that.
"Now, we only have so many rooms here," Riva continued, "so you will each have to take your turn. Also, some of you may desire the same 'mailman'. " There were more giggles.
"One more thing.. . " Lillian's voice took on a strange quality, "the bedrooms are out of bounds."
All of the guests, men and women a-like, gave out an audible sigh of disappointment.
"I'm sorry, but I think you'll find that 'Special Delivery' will be more fun if played in the closets, the bathrooms, the kitchen, the pantry, or anywhere else you may wish to go. The bedrooms will all be fully lit and the lights cannot be turned off except by a master switch which I control. All of the other rooms I have mentioned will be totally dark. You will not be able to see either the mailman or the person to whom the letter is being delivered."
More giggles and laughter greeted this announcement. Mrs. Thayer certainly had a great imagination. This was going to be fun.
"All right now, girls, start writing your notes and toss them into the basket that Mrs. Ross will pass among you. I will give them each a number and see that they are delivered to the 'Post Office'. When Mrs. Ross takes your letter she will tell you what your number is. As your number is called out you will find your 'address' and go there. Your address will be identified as the 'first closet on the second floor' or the 'pantry off the kitchen' or the 'downstairs bathroom'. You will be able to identify your 'home'. "
"What happens if we get in the wrong address?" a cute, overly made-up gal piped in a high-pitched voice.
"Well, in that case, I suppose you'll just get the wrong mailman," Mrs. Thayer replied, dryly, and got the biggest laugh of the evening.
As the ladies wrote their notes, addressed their letters, handed them to Mrs. Ross and were given their 'addresses', the men, lined up on the opposite side of the room, gulped drinks, wetted their lips and leered at the women, wondering which or who might choose them. Some seemed nervous and shifted their weight from foot to foot. Suppose no one addressed a letter to him? What a disgrace. Suppose one got a letter from his own wife? Well, a disappointment, but not a total loss. She might not even seem like his own wife in total darkness.
Finally the letters were written, addressed and the numbers assigned. Mrs. Ross quickly called out the first few.
"Numbers one through seven, go to your homes."
Eleven of the ladies immediately left the room and sought out the darkened closets, pantries and bathrooms assigned to them.
"The rest of the "girls" hurried to the bar, anxious to get as high as possible in order to be fully prepared for whatever thrills might be coming their way.
Mrs. Thayer and her assistant distributed the first seven "pieces of mail" to the lucky gentlemen together with the "addresses" where they were to be delivered.
Mayor Doyle, of course, was one of the first men to receive a letter for delivery. Rena was one of the first seven ladies to be assigned an "address". It turned out to be a small closet off the master bedroom. She went to it with some misgivings. She wasn't sure that she was going to like this "game" but, like everyone else, she, least of all, could not afford to offend Mrs. Thayer. She wondered who had chosen Ralph. She, herself, had picked a rather good-looking young man who had been introduced to her only that evening--a Joel Betts, she thought. At the moment when she opened the closet door, went in and closed it, she couldn't quite remember if the name had been Betts or Bend. Betts, she thought. The "Joel" part she was sure of. He seemed to her to be in his early thirties; tall, quite muscular but not grossly so--nothing like Warren Howard who, she was happy to see, was conspicuous by his absence.
She waited in the closet nervously for some moments, then the door opened from the also-darkened room, and her mailman entered.
Two hands reached out and fumbled for her in the blackness. "I I have a letter addressed for this closet," the man's voice said.
Rena tried to remember what Mr. Betts Bend--Joel's voice had sounded like but she couldn't. It was against the rules to ask questions so she merely murmured: "Um hmnnn."
The man moved close to her, embraced her, found her face with his hands, pulled her into his body and kissed her. It was thrilling. It was absolutely the most exciting thing she had ever experienced. His tongue probed deep into her mouth, caressed her lips and tickled her tongue as his hands roamed up and down her body from her neck to her buttocks and pressed the cheeks close against his crotch.
God! To be felt up and caressed by someone she wasn't even sure what he looked like or who he was. She returned his kiss with complete passion and abandon. The man broke off after a long moment and spoke again.
"The note said: 'Love me'. "
"That's right," Rena replied. It was Joel Betts or Bend. He smelled and felt good. His face was smooth and clean. His hands were like fire running up and down her spine. He found the zipper behind her dress and pulled it down slowly. By now Rena had learned not to burden herself with too much underclothing. She wore a small bra, and a garter belt to hold up her stockings; not even panties. They only got in the way. She felt Joel's hands fumbling to unclasp the bra. She pressed in closer to him, allowing her own hands to drop to the front and fingered his fly, seeking his zipper. She found it and pulled it down just as he loosened the bra and pulled both its straps and the top of her dress over her arms and down to her waist. She felt inside the man's shorts and found his prick. It was already hard and hot. Joel inched her dress down over her hips and let it fall to the floor. She stepped out of it as he grabbed the cheeks of her ass again and began fondling the soft, smooth crevice up and down her a unbuckled his belt, undid the buttons and drew his trousers down to, then over his erected cock.
She felt for his coat, helped him out of it, loosened his collar and tie, removed them from his neck and struggled with him as he almost tore his shirt trying to get it off. He wore no undershirt. Now there were only his shorts and his shoes and socks which didn't matter anyway. He didn't seem to care about her garter belt or her shoes and hose. She ripped his shorts below his waist and pressed her pussy into his prick.
"Oh, God!! " he moaned. "Who are you? Oh, God!"
That's right, Rena thought. He doesn't know who I am. It was all the more thrilling. "Your lover," she whispered. "Kiss me, darling. Kiss me all over."
The man dropped to his knees without a word, parted the soft curls of her pubic hair with his thumbs and began slowly flicking his saliva-moistened tongue at her vagina. He was obviously not too experienced but quite willing to learn. Rena guided his head, mouth and tongue into her pussy until it contacted her gently throbbing clitoris. "That's it, sweetheart. Kiss it. Lick it. Harder. Faster."
The man was more than willing. Standing there, being sucked off in the dark was more than Rena could take for very long. Her whole body shuddered as her cum spurted into Joel's mouth.
"Eat it, darling. Eat it all. Tell me it's good."
"Oh, it's good. It's good!"
"Now you," Rena ordered. She was catching on to this sex business fast. Why had she ever been such a prim, mousy little creature? "Stand up!"
Her sex partner rose immediately as she dropped to her knees, found the head of his cock, thrust out her tongue to tease it and began playing with his balls. Joel let out another moan and shoved his penis deep into her mouth. Rena played her hands from his testicles to his ass and back again, pressing him in further and closer, rubbing her lips forward and backward. She felt the canal jerk and jump and she knew she had him. A gush of hot, thick cum spurted into her mouth. Her first impulse was to withdraw and spit it out. Her second was to savor its flavor. She had never tasted cum before. It was good. She sucked and swallowed and wallowed in her own wantonness. She milked him dry with her gently sucking lips while he moaned and groaned like a man possessed with pleasure.
"You you're a very good 'mailman', " she said finally. "You can go now. Someone else may have a letter they want delivered."
The man pulled up his shorts, managed to struggle back into his shirt, buckled and buttoned his pants and put on his coat. Rena merely stood there in the dark, practically nude, and caressed his body once or twice while he was dressing. He clasped her to him a final time, pressing both hands on her buttocks and gave her another deep kiss on her mouth.
"Any time, Ma'am," he said in mock seriousness. "Any time at all."
Ralph, meanwhile, had been given a letter addressed to "Bathroom in servants' quarters, downstairs, third door to the right off corridor." He had no idea who had chosen him to be her mailman but it excited him with expectation. He left the living room, went down the back stairs, fumbled his way through the darkened corridor and, feeling his way, finally found the third door to the right off the hallway. He went in, adjusted his eyes to the dim light reflecting through the windows, saw another door, decided that it must be the bathroom and went inside. In the darkness he could only make out a well-rounded figure. His throat was dry and he couldn't think of a thing to say. The woman finally broke the ice.
"Yes? Are you the mailman?"
Ralph found his voice. "Uh--yes. The letter says the bathroom in the servants' quarters. Are you the addressee?"
"I might be," came the provocative answer. "What does the note say?"
"It-it says: 'Mr. Mayor Doyle-Your Honor. Please fuck me'. "
"I'm the addressee," the low voice replied.
Ralph moved toward the sound of the voice and stretched out his hands. Two other hands pulled him in and placed his own hands around her body. She was totally naked. While waiting for him she had undressed. Still holding his hands, the girl sank to the floor, pulling Ralph down with her.
"Take off your clothes, Mr. Mayor."
Ralph needed no further urging. He stripped as quickly as he could, tossing his coat, shirt and trousers on the floor. He fumbled for his shoelaces, still wearing his shorts. The girl's hands stopped him. "Let me," she said.
He felt her body climb over his as she bent to his shoes and began untying and removing them. She rolled down his socks and slowly pulled them off. At the same moment he felt her lips and tongue on his toes, then his ankles, his legs, his thighs, and finally on his cock as she worked her way up his body, nibbling and sucking at each part and joint.
His hands reached out and played with her body; his fingers and palms running lightly over her full rounded buttocks, her stomach, her thighs, legs, and tits. Who in the hell was she, Ralph wondered? Whoever she was, she was exciting him beyond endurance. She rolled over on top of him and began playing with his face with her mouth. She kissed his nose and eyes; blew hot breath in his ear and gradually eased her moist cunt down over his prick, took her hands and pushed it into the warm, wet cavern of her waiting pussy.
"Aaauuugh!" she let out a scream as she impaled herself hard down onto his cock. Her note had said: "Fuck me!" but it was she who was doing the fucking. She rode him as though he were a horse. She bounced, weaved and slid from side to side on his prick, reared back until her body was almost bent in half, then lurched forward, fell on his chest and kissed him ravenously. Ralph tried to give as much as he received. He had never had a woman on top before and he liked it. He loved it.
"Ooooooh," the girl moaned again. "You're great, Mr. Mayor. Great! Fuck it! Harder! Harder!"
Ralph lifted his ass and shoved his lust-hardened cock in as deeply as he could.
"Oh, you bastard! I'm cumming. I'm cumming. Cum with me. Please!"
Ralph screwed her as hard as he could but it was no use. He couldn't make it. He felt the soft body grow limp and was aware of a wetness dripping down his legs. The girl had obviously cum. "Oh, that was great. I knew you'd be great," she whispered. "But you didn't cum."
"I'm sorry," Ralph whispered back.
"Don't be," the girl lowered her mouth to his ear and began licking it. "I'll make you cum. I'll make you happy. Get up on your knees."
Ralph did as ordered, wondering what was in store. The girl raised herself, turned around, bent herself on all fours and presented the full, rounded moons of her buttocks to him. Ralph couldn't quite see what was happening, but he felt warm flesh pressing against his prick. The girl took both hands, placed them behind herself and began guiding Ralph's penis into the tight, warm confines of her rectum.
"Fuck me now, darling. Put it in." Ralph thought he was merely doing it to her dog fashion until his cock struck the warm, puckered flesh of her tiny anal gland.
"Shove!" she ordered. "Push, sweetheart. Push! Fuck me in the ass!"
Ralph pressed forward with a great surge. The small hole squeezed and refused to give at first. "More," she begged him. "More!" Ralph gave a great heave, the membrane parted and gave with a slight popping noise and he had his prick up her ass! It was tighter than anything he had ever experienced; tighter even than Rena had been when he had fucked her the first time.
As he shoved his balls against the cheeks of her buttocks, slapping them hard against the soft, yielding flesh, his hands found her breasts and her vaginal opening. He kneaded her tits with one hand while with the other he played with the gently throbbing clitoris, opened her wide and tickled the soft hair-lined lips that hung out and were still throbbing. It was more than either of them could stand for very long. With another shudder the girl spurted her load into his hand and Ralph with a soulful grunt jetted his hot sperm deep into her ass. It was one of the greatest feelings he had ever experienced.
"God!" he exclaimed. "You're marvelous."
"So are you, baby."
"Who are you?"
"Um umph! Against the rules. Get dressed now. I'm expecting another delivery later."
Ralph put his clothes on after soaping himself good and drying. Women are sexually insatiable, he thought, and wondered who might be fucking his own wife, Rena, and if she had enjoyed her experience as much as he had.
While Rena and Ralph had been enjoying their unseen sex partners, the other guests were having equally abandoned fun.
One woman had sent notes to two mailmen at the same time. She was enjoying something she had only fantasized and wished about for years; two men at the same time. One fucked her while she sucked the other. Then the other man sucked her while the second male partner reamed her ass. She came six or seven times and was ecstatic with joy.
Mrs. Thayer's party was a huge success. She and Mrs. Ross also participated, manning their cameras which were equipped with infra-red film that recorded, in motion, every lewd act that her guests performed.
Later that night after everyone had wended their exhausted, weary bodies home, Riva and her assistant offered themselves up again to their Master. The black candles in the chapel burned with greater brightness than ever before. The incantations were more intense and they evidently were well received. Riva had succeeded in degrading and overpowering practically an entire community. For this she would surely receive a special reward.
Mrs. Ross, however, was not as pleased as was Riva. When they completed their obedience to His Most Satanic Majesty and were about to retire, Mrs. Ross stopped her Mistress in the hallway. "You did not ask Him," she said. "I'm sorry. It slipped my mind," Riva lied. "Tomorrow?" Mrs. Ross asked. "Yes. Yes, of course. I promise. Good night."
Riva left her servant and went to her room to dream sweet dreams of goblins and gnomes. Mrs. Ross did not retire. She went into the Chapel. She had had quite enough of Mrs. Thayer's lies and promises. She was certain that she had earned her right to a full Witch-hood and she intended to get it. With all the fervor she could command, and calling on every catechism she could remember, she begged The Devil to honor His promise. She not only appealed to the Highest on High but to all of her own private small devils and witches; people of her own class and station.
"Help me," she pleaded. "Help me, and I will help you. Freedom for me will mean freedom for you."
A strange black light began pervading the Chapel and the woman received her answer. No sound was heard, but she knew and understood. Someone would come to teach Riva a much needed lesson. His Most Satanic Majesty was becoming impatient with Riva. Mrs. Ross had earned her right to Witch-hood and would receive it. The Devil had made a promise!
CHAPTER FIVE
Give a man an inch and he'll take a foot, a yard or an entire town. Such was Warren Howard's insatiable desires. His operation in Garden City rivaled Chicago's Cicero and outdid it during the heyday of Al Capone.
There were prostitutes in every hotel and on every street corner. Each drug store was operating a bookie joint on the side. There were lewd shows for any and every perverted mind that visited the town. Not even in the old days of the "Sex Circuses" in Chicago had anything like it been seen. The Mayor was powerless to stop the orgies, the sale of dope, the prostitution and everything else that appealed to the most erotic interests of both men and women.
Conventioneers loved it. They had but to visit the equivalent of "Bourbon Street," sit down at a table in a bar and were served by waitresses totally naked. For a buck tip, in addition to the five dollar per drink, they had only to reach out a hand and fondle a breast, tickle a young girl's pussy.
Some of the more expensive places featured shows that went all the way; men and women fucking; women and women going down on each other and sticking dildos into each other. There were even performances to satisfy the male homosexuals; men sucking each other and fucking each other in the ass.
Nothing was too lewd, obscene or far out for Howard's imagination. He was a showman and an entrepreneur who knew what people really wanted to see but wouldn't admit to themselves. Warren Howard gave it to them in spades.
Howard could have any woman in Garden City he desired, and did. But in the back of his mind there was always Rena. He coveted the Mayor's wife more than any other broad he had ever used and subjected to his own vile imagination.
He remembered Mrs. Thayer's promise to give him another crack at the haughty bitch and he intended to hold her to it. He also remembered her suggestion that when he had had his fill of her he could turn her over to his "henchmen."
Warren's coterie of bodyguards, muscle men and pimps had watched the proud young Rena Doyle with covetous eyes for a long time. One of them had even dared broach the subject at one of their high level meetings. Warren had merely smirked and said: "Soon. Soon, boys. Take my word. Have I ever disappointed ya?"
The next day, Howard dropped in on Mrs. Thayer quite casually and unexpectedly. Riva received him most cordially. There were few men in the world that really turned her on and Warren was one. He was so gross; so much the animal. He excited her beyond belief.
She greeted him with a large embrace and kissed him warmly. He returned the greeting half-heartedly and shoved her away.
"Got something to talk wid ya about," he informed her.
"Sure. Sure, Warren, anything. What's on your mind?"
"It's about the little bitch, the Mayor's wife. I dig her. I want her again only this time, my way and for my boys too. You remember, you promised."
"Sure, sure, I remember."
"Good. So then, how about settin' it up like for tomorrow night, maybe?"
"Just as you say." Riva felt a heat of passion rush over her body. Warren Howard was her kind of man; he was a human Devil; the closest she could get to giving herself to her Master. She got up from her chair, went to the bar and mixed a drink. She sprinkled it liberally with her most powerful aphrodisiac and handed it to him.
"Bourbon on the rocks. Just like you like it," she told him. "Thanks."
Howard took it and drank deeply. Riva walked around his chair slowly and began divesting herself of her clothes. At first, Warren paid little or no attention to her. Finally he did.
"Hey, you ain't got a bad body, doll. Not bad at all." He gulped more of his drink and felt his prick harden. Riva, meanwhile, was doing the most seductive, sexiest strip-tease of which she was capable. The Devil had been kind to her and her body was provocative and exciting. She was only wearing a hostess gown, no bra, and sheer panties. She stripped off the gown, and sat in Warren's lap.
"I want you," she said. "I want to make you happier than you've ever been in your life."
"That'll be the day," he replied.
"Oh, I don't know. I may have a few tricks you haven't thought of."
"Yeah?" he smirked. "Show me!"
"I will," she replied seductively and went to the bar. "Do you want me to undress you?"
"Naw! I'll strip myself. I don't like women pawing all over my body unless it might be the Mayor's wife," he added with a chuckle.
At the bar, Riva took two ice cubes and sucked on them until they melted. Her mouth and tongue were cold as ice could make them. She began sucking one more ice cube and picked up a bottle of cr�me de menthe from the bar. She brought it back with her to where Warren was by now lying prone of the sofa, stark naked except for his shoes and socks. His clothes were strewn on the floor where he had dropped them as he took them off. His prick was limp, but even in repose it was still one of the most magnificent organs Riva, or any other woman had ever seen or even fantasized about in dreams.
"Not very sexy today," she remarked as she observed his large but sagging prick.
"Well, I already fucked two kids at one of my houses. Sixteen or seventeen years old; ran away from home to see what life was like in the big city. They couldn't get in with the boys there, but one of 'em recommended 'em to me."
"Virgins?" Riva asked, rolling the ice cube around her tongue.
"Naw! What virgins? Kids these days lose their cherries in junior high school. It's that damned pill. I don't know what the hell gets into their folk's minds. Me? I keep my gals under lock and key."
"I didn't know you had daughters," Riva said, surprised.
"Two," Warren answered with all the pride of a proud father. "Twelve and fifteen. And if I ever catch one of 'em fuckin' around with some pimply-faced kid, I'll kill em."
"Who? Your daughters or the boys?"
"All of 'em," Warren answered with relish, and sounded like he meant it.
"But why should your daughters be different?" Riva persisted. She wanted to keep Warren's mind on sex; keep him talking about it while the potion took hold.
"Because they're my kids!" he replied in an angry tone. "They gonna be virgins when they get married, and I'm gonna pick the guys myself, hand-picked. They gonna be respectable."
"Are they cute girls?"
"Cuter than a bug's ear. You oughta see the little one. She's only twelve, but with tits already, and an ass that won't quit. Every once in awhile I have to whack her to remind her to stop shaking it when she walks. The older one's not as sexy, but she does all right.
Riva had dropped to her knees in front of Warren's body and had taken a swig of the mint-flavored cr�me de menthe into her mouth. Now she carefully bent to his cock and without spilling a drop, inserted the head of the penis into her liquid-filled mouth. Warren squirmed as he felt the cold mouth begin sucking and the oily, alcoholic liquid embrace the head of his prick.
"Hey! That's different all right, baby. Ummm. Roll it around some more, I like it."
Riva could feel the immense organ begin to stiffen as she dripped the liquor down the shaft of his rod and over his balls.
"Ummm," Warren mumbled again. "Cold. What is it?"
"Cr�me de menthe. Tastes like mint. I love to lick it." And lick it she did; every drop that dripped down. She lapped at it with a wide, hungry, frenzied tongue that soon had Howard panting for breath and running his fingers through her hair and reaming her ears with the tip of his little finger.
"You're good, baby. You're real good." He began working his prick into her mouth as his erection built, bigger and larger and thicker.
Riva swallowed the last drop of the cr�me de menthe, blew in Warren's ear and whispered: "Don't move. I'll be right back."
She hurried back to the sink in the bar, turned on the hot water full blast, held a glass under the tap and filled her mouth with the hot liquid.
Back to Warren she went. His penis had started to droop again. It was cold to the touch and still smelled of mint. She closed her mouth over it, immersing it in the hot water. Warren nearly jumped out of his skull. The combination of first ice cold, then red hot, was something like the effect of taking first a warm then cold shower, except in reverse. Riva knew that it was an exciting experience for a man. As she let the water trickle down her throat she went to work on his cock. She was the Devil's own cock-sucker. No tongue was faster, no lips sucked with more greed. She made the man feel as if every stroke were pure joy, not only for him but for her as well.
His hips began moving and grinding in time to her up and down mouth motion. She could feel the canal begin to pulsate. "Not yet, darling. Not yet. Turn over."
Warren managed to roll himself over onto his stomach with great reluctance and Riva went to work on the crevice between his buttocks. She planted wet, liberal kisses on each cheek, licking and caressing them as though they were a baby's. Then, gradually she found the upper portion of the opening and slowly worked her way down, nibbling, tickling and biting every quarter-inch of the way.
Warren's penis was on fire. It was all he could do to keep from spurting cum all over the sofa.
"God!" he exclaimed over and over again. "Goddamnit! Shit! Oh, fuck! Oh, baby. You're the greatest!"
With that, Riva rolled him over again. It wasn't easy. She started licking his prick once more and worked her way to his chest, the small nipples and around his face, forehead, ears and finally reamed her tongue into his now wide open, grunting, panting mouth. Then she sat down on his cock and began pumping. Within moments she felt him jerk and his thick cum spurted into her cunt. Riva smiled to herself and was satisfied. That would give him something to remember. Warren Howard might have the hots for Rena-bitch, but he would long remember this orgasm.
"Happy sweetheart?" she asked, as she rolled off.
"The greatest!"
"Still want Mrs. Doyle?" Riva chided him as she picked up her clothes and started for the bathroom. "Aw, baby--you know how it is. Sure. She's a dish a young cunt. Anyway, I promised my boys. "You'll have her. Nine o'clock tonight."
"Promise?" Warren threw at her as she left the room. "Have I ever disappointed you?"
"No. We'll be here. I'll buy the liquor and bring the food. This is gonna be a party to end 'em all. My gift to the boys. They've earned it."
Warren got up and started dressing. "Hey!" he called into the powder room off the living room hall, "you sure she ain't gonna give nobody no trouble?"
"If she does, we'll take care of it," Riva replied. "Just see to it that your guys aren't too loaded when they get here."
"I'll break 'em in half. Don't worry, baby, they will all act like perfect gentlemen to a point," he finished and gave out with his typical raucous laugh. "See you tonight, baby. And thanks."
"Don't mention it," Riva called back as she dressed with an expectant smile on her face. She, too, was looking forward to the young Rena Doyle getting it from those brutes like she was nothing but a whore off the streets. Maybe it would teach her to be so uppity all the time.
"Mrs. Ross!" she bellowed through the intercom microphone that connected to every room in the house.
"Yes?" came the reply.
"We're having a little party tonight. Get things ready.
"Yes Ma'am," Mrs. Ross replied, and wondered when her prayers to His Most Satanic Majesty would be answered.
Mrs. Thayer went directly to the telephone from the bathroom and called Rena. In firm, commanding tones she ordered the proud little bitch to be at her home that evening promptly at 8:30.
"But, but Mrs. Thayer " she tried to begin protesting, "Ralph and I have made other arrangements and.. . "
"Cancel them!" Riva commanded peremptorily.
"How can I?"
"Simple. Just tell Red that I've invited you here to meet several people who will be helpful to him and who can be depended on to donate large sums of money to all of his pet projects. I don't think he will object."
"But.. . " Rena began again.. .
"If he does, just remind him that I have some excellent movies of both he and you including a few taken with infra-red film at our last party."
"Oh no!"
"Oh, yes," Riva replied with the greatest of cool. "I'm sure neither you nor Red would want your movies made public." She paused a fraction of a moment to let her next statement sink in with full force and effect. "If your husband gives you any trouble, or if you fail to cooperate tonight to the fullest, I promise you that prints of your activities with Warren Howard and Joel Betts will be distributed to every whorehouse and sex-film theater in the country, not to mention the ones here in town. You might also remind him of his lovely performance as my little poodle dog on the stairs."
There was another pause. Then, finally, with a helpless tone of bitterness in her voice. "What time did you say?"
"Eight-thirty, and be prompt. My guests don't like to be kept waiting." Riva disconnected the phone abruptly. Again, she smiled. This would be a "party" to end all parties; something to be long remembered. She hoped her Master was pleased. She went to the Chapel to offer up further prayers.
Rena had no trouble breaking her date with her husband at all. "Mrs. Thayer absolutely insists, darling," she told him. "She says she has some people coming over who can help you in everything you want to do."
"But why only you?" he asked.
"I don't know. Maybe it's one of those 'hen parties'. She didn't say, but the guests could be all women wives of important men. Anyway, you're not invited."
"Okay, Ralph shrugged. "I'll go down to the Club and play some bridge. Try not to be late." He went to her and pulled her close. He was finally beginning to enjoy his wife's body to the fullest. His timidity had vanished and he had no compunctions about feeling her up and exciting her sexually, even in broad daylight.
By the time Rena arrived at Mrs. Thayer's she was just a shade "loaded" from the two martinis Ralph had mixed before dinner. She had merely pecked at her food; too excited with anticipation and wondering what Mrs. Thayer had in mind for the evening. She was reasonably sure that it would be sexual. She hoped that it wouldn't be Warren Howard again, but deep inside she knew it would.
She presented herself at exactly 8:29 p.m. and rang the door chime. Mrs. Ross admitted her and without a word beckoned her up the stairs to the bedroom of mirrors.
"Mrs. Thayer says you should get undressed, take a shower and wait."
"For whom-uh-what?"
"I merely follow instructions, Mrs. Doyle, the same as you do," Mrs. Ross told her as she went out and closed the door.
Rena heaved a large sigh, began undressing and finally decided to soak herself in the large, ebony bath tub. There was something very sexy about a black bath tub and she enjoyed it fully. As she immersed herself in the bubbles she found herself fingering her cunt. Well, she thought, Warren isn't that bad, if you don't look at him. She continued to soak as Howard arrived downstairs.
Mrs. Ross ushered him into the living room where Riva was waiting with a drink. He took it.
"What's in it, besides bourbon?" he asked.
"Nothing," Riva replied. "And that's the truth. I swear it on the Horns."
"On the what?"
"Never mind. You wouldn't understand."
Warren took a sip and frowned. "Well I want something in it, see? Haven't--haven't you got something that'll give me more staying power? You know what I mean?"
"Of course I have, dear Warren. Give me your glass." She took the tumbler, went behind the bar and unlocked a secret door. Inside were vials, bottles and small packets of powders. She selected one with great care, emptied it into Warren's glass and returned to him.
"You'll stay hard for a week with this, dear Warren, although why you feel the need for her I really don't know. You're quite sufficient without any potions," she smiled sexily. "Yeah? You dig my action, huh?"
"The most," she replied, going along with his attempt at mod talk. It disgusted her. Why couldn't people speak their language with grace and polish, like in the old days? She didn't mind the obscenities. Those words have been with us since man became "civilized." Fuck. Shit. Cunt. Ass. Cocksucker. Cuntlapper, as well as the minor curse words: Goddamit. Sonofabitch. Bastard. There was one word Riva never used: "Hell". It was absolutely taboo and forbidden to all witches and the disciples of His Most Satanic Majesty. One simply didn't take the name of one's eventual "home" in vain.
Warren slurped at his drink, paused and waited for it to settle down and hit bottom. He evidently expected some kind of reaction. When he felt nothing but the warm effect of the liquor he looked up at her questioningly.
"I don't feel nothin', " he pouted.
"You will my dear. You will. Give it time."
"Is she here?"
"Upstairs, waiting for you."
"My boys oughta be showin' up in about an hour. See that they're entertained while I'm busy. I suppose you got an intercom in the bedroom?" he inquired.
"There's one in every room in the house more than one in some. For example, Warren dear, every word you've said since you came in has been carefully recorded on tape. Every word you've ever uttered in this house is on tape."
Warren sipped at his drink again and shook his head. "What a bitch!"
"I've told you before," she said, "you're almost right, but not quite."
"And I guess the cameras will be rolling during our little party?" he stated again, not really a question. "Of course. You don't think I'd let an opportunity like this slip by," Riva murmured softly. 'He' wouldn't like it."
"Who?"
"The only onethe only thing in this world I love and enjoy more than you, lover."
"I'm jealous."
"Don't be. Given enough time you'll be a fairly good imitation of Him."
"like to meet him someday," Warren stood up and gulped the last of his drink.
"I don't think that's possible for you in this life. But I'll ask."
Warren held his empty glass out empty except for the ice cubes.
"Sure you need another? That one was pretty powerful."
"Well, just a little more bourbon. And give me the bottle."
"You'll find one in the nightstand beside the bed," Riva told him.
"Okay. I think I'll go up and get started."
"Why not?"
She moved to a concealed microphone on the mantelpiece as Warren slowly climbed the stairs. The bitch was right. He didn't need too much more liquor or anything else. As he put one foot above the other he had to adjust his cock. It was getting harder and harder and larger than he had ever felt it before and that was saying something!
Riva spoke sharply into the intercom. "More guests will be arriving soon. Be ready for them."
"Yes, Ma'am," Mrs. Ross replied with as much subservience as she could manage. Soon. Soon, she thought. It will be my turn.
Warren entered the bedroom unceremoniously. Rena was still in the tub. "Hey?" he shouted. "I'm in here," Rena answered.
He went into the bathroom and found her immersed beneath thousands of tiny bubbles. "Okay," he grunted, "you're clean enough. Get out!"
"Wouldn't you rather get in here with me?" Rena smiled her most provocative smile.
"Whatdya think? I ain't clean enough for ya?"
"Not at all. I just thought it might be fun to make love in the bathtub."
"Under all those bubbles?" he snorted. "I'll pull the plug."
And with that, she did. The water drained slowly, and with it the churning bubble bath. Little by little Rena's lovely body became more and more exposed. Warren's prick swelled to full proportions and this time he wouldn't explode so soon, thanks to Mrs. Thayer's potion. He stood and watched until Rena was fully exposed in the tub. She smiled up at him and rolled her body around suggestively.
"Don't move," he said, "I'll be right back."
He went into the bedroom, found the bottle of bourbon in the bottom section of the end table, poured a stiff drink to match his expanded cock, undressed as quickly as possible and went back into the bathroom. Rena was still lying in the tub, her eyes closed, relaxed and enjoying the effects of her warm bath. "Get up!" Warren ordered. "I like it better in the shower." Rena opened her eyes, looked once again at the man's elephantine organ, shrugged and raised herself in the tub.
God, she was gorgeous, Warren thought. What a young tender piece of ass. He opened the shower door, went inside and turned on the water taps. He adjusted them until the flow was tepid. Rena stood outside. He grabbed her hand and pulled her in with him under the spraying faucet. "Okay, cunt," wash my back. Wash me good all over."
The girl obediently took the cake of soap, worked it up into a lather and began soaping the large, hairy body from top to bottom. She got down on her knees to reach his legs and ankles. He looked at her and grinned as he let the water play over his face.
"That's the way I like you, you fucking cunt down on your knees. Now lick it all off."
Rena tried to use as much of the cascading water as possible to prevent too much soap from getting into her mouth. Even so, much of it ran into her mouth and coated her tongue. Still she went licking and sucking. She began at his toes and the soles of his feet and lapped every inch of his flesh. She worked her way up to his cock and began sucking at it. He stopped her suddenly.
"Naw! You soap it with your hands and lick me back there. That feels good."
Rena obediently began massaging his prick with both hands, pressing the head and the shaft between her palms. She was literally fucking him with her hands. At the same time she lapped at his buttocks, tickled his anal gland with her tongue and pressed her face in close to her nose and cheeks.
"Good. Good, baby. You're gonna make a real good whore."
For a moment Rena's heart missed a beat. She wondered what the man meant, then finally decided that it was just a figure of speech and went on massaging and sucking.
"Okay," Warren said finally. "Get ready, I'm turnin' on the cold." With that he switched off all the hot water and blasted them both with an icy shower. Rena shivered as the pin-pricking cold water engulfed her. Goose pimples broke out all over her body and she stopped her ministrations for the moment.
"Keep suckin' cunt," Warren ordered roughly. I'll tell ya when to stop."
She forced herself to continue swirling her tongue into his buttocks and tried not to shiver. At long last he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower leaving her squatting on her knees. "Okay. You can dry me now."
Rena got up, stepped out and went to the towel rack. She took a large fluffy towel and started rubbing the big man.
"Who said anything about a towel? With your tongue, bitch. With your mouth."
Rena's mouth dropped open as she gasped for control. God! What other humiliations would the man think of before he took her normally.
There was nothing the girl could do. She dare not refuse anything that man asked of her. Obediently, as the man spread his legs and stood dripping on the bathroom rug, Rena again got down on her hands and knees and began drying his body with her tongue, she lapped and sucked every drop of water off his body, using her mouth and tongue as a towel. She avoided his naked genitals as she sucked up the liquid, locking at his hairy, thick legs, his stomach and his back. He was almost dry and she was about to stop.
"You ain't done the best parts," he snorted.
Down she went again and began sucking at his cock, licking the water from it and teasing the head with long strokes of her tongue.
"Feels good," he grunted again. "Dry it all off and feel me up back there again."
She slowly worked her way around his swaying testicles, under his thighs and to his buttocks. Rena didn't dare offend him or disobey his instructions. Why? Why, oh why did Ralph have to be ambitious, run for Mayor; get himself involved with Mrs. Thayer? She and Ralph could have had such a happy life together. Now it was ruined.
As her thoughts tormented her she began tonguing him as he had instructed. "Stick it in real good, doll," he told her. "Make it stiff and hard."
Rena stiffened her tongue as much as she possible could and pressed it into him. He rolled his hips and pressed the cheeks of his buttocks against her face. Her head moved back against the side of the shower and he forced his backside into her mouth with greater strength.
"Now play with my cock and balls again." She reached out her hands, took his great rod in her hands and began rubbing it. She dropped one hand from time to time and teased the testicles.
Warren continued rolling his ass from side to side. He was as hot and ready as he could ever remember but not nearly to the cumming point. Abruptly and suddenly he left the shower and went into the bedroom. He lit a cigarette and sat down on a large, easy chair.
"Come're!" he ordered.
Rena followed him and in spite of her revulsions at her hopeless position, felt herself getting passionate as she looked at his large cock extending over the chair. "Sit down on it!" Warren ordered again.
She sat on his lap and obediently began forcing the organ up into her vagina, tiny tears of shame and humiliation trickling down her cheeks. But, the animal-like man could have cared less about her feelings. He had only one thought. Use her! Humiliate her as much as possible and make her ready for "his boys." They should be arriving by now. He glanced at his wrist watch. He was right. At that very moment, two of Warren's henchmen had rung the door chime. Mrs. Ross admitted them, ushered them into the den and gave them drinks as upstairs Warren mercilessly pushed his cock into Rena's tight, involuntarily clenching pussy.
"Screw it, bitch! Tell me how much you love it."
Rena pressed her cunt down and into herself as hard as she could. It rubbed and irritated the vagina walls like sandpaper but she hardly dare open her mouth. She let out a small moan: "Aaauuugh!"
"It's good, huh?" Warren grabbed her head, pulled it back and kissed her lewdly with an open mouth, probing her throat with his tongue. "Tell me how good it is," he grunted as his mouth and tongue found hers.
"It it's good," Rena managed to say as she fought to free her mouth from his thick lips and probing tongue.
"Talk to me sweets," Warren prodded her further and reamed his prick into her cunt."
"Wha what do you want me to say?" Rena forced the words between her cheeks.
"Say what whores say. Tell me you want my prick in your cunt."
"I I want your prick in my cunt."
"Tell me how good it is!" She moaned at him, too frightened not to do his every bidding.
Warren was really fucking her now and her juices had began to flow. In spite of herself she found that she was enjoying that tremendous cock deep inside her belly. She began moving her ass in time to his thrusts. She needed little urging, but he wanted to hear the sweet young thing verbalize obscene and lewd words."
"Tell me to fuck you."
"Fuck me."
"Beg me for it." he urged. He loved to hear his women degrade themselves with words as well as deeds. "Please," Rena sobbed, tears beginning to flow from her eyes. "Please fuck me."
Warren's organ began getting to her. She felt its hard fleshy shaft tickling her clitoris. She was getting hot and ready to cum. She began begging in earnest.
"Oh, God, yes. Fuck me. Please fuck me. I-I'm cumming. Oooooh. I'm cumming." And cum she did! She exploded her juices all over Warren's hard driving prick as she sat on it and screwed herself into the shaft.
"Good?"
"Yes. Good."
"I ain't cum yet. You got yours all over my prick?"
"Oh yes. Yes. It was good."
"Suck it off," he told her. "What?"
"You heard me. Go down on it now and suck your cum. Clean it up. I don't like no dirty whore fucking up my cock."
It was the third time he had called her a whore. She again had a moment of fear despite the enjoyment she had felt from having the huge throbbing penis inside her belly. Nevertheless, she withdrew from his prick, dropped to her knees again and began kissing his wet shaft, moist from her own cum. She was surprised that it did not nauseate her or taste badly. She rather enjoyed it as she teased the member with her mouth and lips. It remained as hard and erected as before. Mrs. Thayer's potion had seen to that.
"That's fine fine," Warren grunted again as he watched the proud little blonde bitch suck at his cock. He enjoyed watching women suck and eat their own cum almost as much as he enjoyed cumming in their mouths. It was somehow humiliating to make them suck themselves.
"That's good, baby. You're okay. Now, you take care of my boys and I'll take care of you."
"Your--your boys?" Rena managed to get out in her confused state of mind.
"Yeah. They oughta be gettin' here along about now. Why don't you wash off a little. I don't want 'em gettin' no wet dick."
Rena stood up defiantly. Even totally nude she managed a degree of imperious dignity. "I won't do it," she screamed. "I won't! I won't!"
"Oh, I think you will," Warren replied patiently and rather soft for him. "You do whatever you're told or you and your husband'll be rode outta town on a rail, and you know it."
Rena ran into the bathroom and licked the door. She tried to scrub herself and her thoughts clean but it was no use. She had been used and debased beyond endurance, and now she was going to be humiliated still further. She couldn't stand it. She simply couldn't.. .
Warren paid no attention to her. He dressed carefully and went down stairs. The den was almost totally dark. All of his five "boys" had arrived and were being entertained by Riva and Mrs. Ross with drinks and stag movies.
Riva was not showing the ones of Rena and Ralph. She had a large collection and had chosen the ones calculated to excite the men the most.
One depicted a large boxer dog licking a beautiful girl's cunt. Then the dog tried to fuck the girl. He moved his penis back and forth, trying to get in dog fashion but never quite made it. It was funny to see the dog's prick move in and out in mid-air, never making contact with the girl's cunt. Warren's henchmen found it all very amusing. They were laughing and nudging each other as Warren came in. They stopped quickly, almost on cue, as the boss stood in the doorway.
"It's okay fellas," he said. "Have fun. That's why you're here. I want you should enjoy yourselves."
He went to the bar and poured another drink. "Everybody got everything they need?"
There was a chorus of assents. "Good. Put on another movie, doll," he ordered Riva. Mrs. Ross went to the projector and threaded up a thing called, "Greenwich Village Ball." It showed two couples in all forms of intercourse. Men and women fucking, women and women sucking each other, men sucking each other, men fucking each other in the ass, then their women; trading off; almost every sex act one could imagine.
The best scene was when one of the women after sucking her male partner to orgasm, took it, went to her female partner and slowly kissed the other's girl mouth. The second girl went "Yum-yum," and swallowed.
By the time the second film was finished, every man in the room had a hard-on that wouldn't quit.
Warren took over as master of ceremonies. "Okay guys. I promised you a party tonight and Warren Howard always keeps his word.
"Yeah, boss," came a chorus of replies.
Now fellas, upstairs is one of the most beautiful broads you guys ever laid eyes on. That sentence could be too long," he giggled. "Maybe I shoulda said, 'ever laid'. " The "boys" again laughed appreciatively.
"Now there's only one catch, fellas." There was a sudden silence.
"You can't take her one at a time. That would cause problems like who's on first?"
The laughter resumed as the "boys" relaxed. "So," Warren continued, "it's gonna be a gang fuck."
There was an intake of breath as the "boys" contemplated the idea.
"Now there ain't gonna be no fightin' and no rough-house. This broad'll do anything you want her to do. She may not like it, but she'll do it. She don't dare not to, thanks to our good friend here, Mrs. Thayer.
The "boys" nodded in Rivas' direction. So, take your drinks--there's more upstairs, and play cards for who does what first, unless you can agree without gambling for first crack at her cunt or her behind. Okay?"
"Yeah, Boss," came another chorus of agreement. The men left and went upstairs. Warren turned to Riva who was in the process of mixing a drink.
"Get the guy over here."
"What guy?"
"Her husband the Mayor."
"Over here?"
"Yeah. I wanna see his face while his wife gets it every way but loose."
Riva hesitated. She had an uneasy feeling that the whole party was getting a little out of hand. She didn't like the idea of having so many "hoods" in her home and she was a little afraid that Rena might resist such humiliation, even to save her husband's reputation and her own.
"But Warren.. . "she started to protest.
"I said 'get him'! " the man repeated roughly.
"I I don't know where he is. Rena said he went out."
"Then ask her."
"All right. All right, Warren, take it easy."
She went upstairs to find Warren's "boys" ready to break down the door to the bathroom where Rena had locked herself in.
"Stop it!" she shouted. "Now you men act like human beings or I'll have Warren throw you all out."
The human animals stopped pounding and kicking at the bathroom door and stood back as Riva went to it.
"Rena? Rena unlock the door and come out."
She waited for a moment and listened. All she heard was low moans and sobs.
"If you don't, I promise you that my movies of you and Ralph will be shown in every theatre in the country. Not only that I have some lovely stills of you and Warren and of Ralph and me. We have nothing to lose by publishing them. I know at least five underground magazines and newspapers that will pay handsomely for them. Now, unlock the door and come out."
There was another short pause, then the key turned and the door opened. Rena stood framed in the doorway completely naked, her head bowed; thoroughly defeated and humiliated young woman.
"Where's Ralph?" Riva asked.
"At his club."
"Which Club?"
Rena gave her the name, her head still bowed. She didn't even dare look up but she was aware that there were several men staring at her nakedness. "Phone number?"
"357-6659."
"Thank you," Riva said with a mocking nod. "Okay boys, she's all yours."
Riva left the room, went to the phone in the hall and put in a call to Ralph. It took a moment to get him away from his Bridge game. When he finally answered, Riva's voice was cold as steel, hard and firm. "Red, this is Mrs. Thayer. I'd advise you to get over here right away unless you want a full-fledged scandal in the newspapers tomorrow morning."
"Why?" he asked. "What's going on?"
"You'll see when you get here. And make it fast!" She hung up without so much as a goodbye.
Upstairs, Rena continued to stand in between the doorway of the bath and the bedroom. Behind the walls, Mrs. Ross had all cameras grinding away at top speed. It took "the boys" several moments to take in the full, young beauty of Rena. Then, silently and without a word, they began divesting themselves of their clothes. When they were nude, "Guy," Warren's first in command, snapped at Rena. "Okay, bitch, on the bed."
Rena walked slowly to the bed and lay down. She only hoped they wouldn't be too rough on her. She spread her legs and prepared to receive whoever decided to go first.
"Lessee now," Guy thought aloud, "one can take her in front, one in the ass, one fucks her mouth, one rubs her tits with his prick," he paused and considered the fifth member of the firm. "You like pricks, sonny boy. Why don't you go down on some of us. Then if you're a real good boy, well let you fuck her."
Rena, the words suddenly registering in her hazy mind, leaped up from the bed in a frenzy.
"Noooooo!" She screamed. "Not that way. Not all at once."
"Grab her!" Guy ordered as she tried to retreat into the bathroom again.
The four men pounced upon her, spread-eagled her on the bed and began tying her hands and feet with their belt buckles, spreading them apart until she was literally in a crucified position. She could move and be turned over but she was helpless to defend herself against the men's onslaughts and whatever their lewd minds could dream up to do to her. One climbed completely on top of her face, buried his prick in her face and nose, rubbing his cock over her lips and forcing it between them.
Suddenly Rena opened her mouth wide, took the organ in it and bit down with all her strength.
"Owwww!" the man let out a yell and whacked her across her face with a blow that left a red welt on her lovely cheek.
Guy restrained his henchman from hitting her again. He bent down and hissed into Rena's ear. "You try anything like that again you fucking cunt and you won't live to see tomorrow."
Great tears swelled up in Rena's eyes as she allowed her mouth to be forced open and used. This time she played with the big prick and teased it with her tongue. An old joke entered her mind for no reason at all. "If rape is inevitable," the joke went, "relax and enjoy it."
As she sucked the man's penis she felt a second man shoving another prick into her cunt. A third pair of hands lifted her ass and rolled it over until she was on her side. Then, with no preparation at all, still a third cock began teasing her tight, resisting rectum; first one knuckle then another. She began to lubricate inside in spite of herself; her buttocks were wet with it and she hardly felt the prick as it reamed into her shoved itself up to its hilt. She was red hot as she sucked, fucked and was, in turn, reamed in her tightly clenching rectum. Still another man climbed aboard and had buried his prick between her breasts. He pressed them close together, sawed it back and forth and suddenly spurted his thick sperm all over her chest and partly on her chin and face.
Almost at the same time, the man with his prick in her mouth busted his load. It almost choked her as she fought to spit it out. He lamped his fingers over her nose and forced her to swallow.
"Auuuuugh, God!" Rena moaned as the two other men continued fucking her from front and back.
The final member of the group was alternately licking and kissing the men who were fucking and reaming the girl. He moved from one pair of buttocks to the other, moistening his tongue as he urged them to greater efforts.
Downstairs, the door chimed. Warren swayed drunkenly to it. "I'll get it." He opened the door to find a hatless, coatless Mayor Doyle wide-eyed and frantic.
"What's going on here?" Where's my wife? Where's Rena?"
"She's being well taken care of, Buddy," Warren spoke softly and insinuatingly. "Follow me." Riva tried to restrain him. "Warren--don't!"
"Whatdya mean, don't? I wanna see this cocksucker watch his wife wid my boys." With that he led Ralph up the stairs and into the bedroom of mirrors.
When the men entered, Rena was in the throes of another orgasm. How could she help herself? One man was tonguing her buttocks, the other had his prick buried deep in her vagina. The third who had just cum in her mouth and the fourth who had spurted on her tits were both trying to get their pricks into her mouth at the same time.
"Kiss mine, baby. Suck it!"
"Mine first," the other one ordered.
Ralph did his best to concentrate on his work. He kept his appointments, met with committees and went through the motions of being "The Mayor."
At two o'clock, his secretary delivered a note, heavily sealed with scotch tape in addition to the natural envelope adhesive. It was addressed to him and he recognized Rena's handwriting.
It said: "Dear Ralph, I'm sorry for everything. I can't stand this any longer. Please forget me and do not try to find me. It will only result in more trouble for you and humiliation for me. I love you." It was signed: "Rena."
Doyle rose from his desk. His immediate impulse was to search the entire town the whole world if necessary--and bring her back. In spite of everything, he still loved Rena and wanted her back; safe, and at home with him.
Just as he went to the door to inform his secretary that he was leaving, the girl herself entered. "There's a gentleman who insists on seeing you at once, sir," she said. "He said that it is very important urgent and that it concerns your wife."
Ralph went back to his desk, tried to assume a normal attitude and straightened his tie. "Show him in."
"She can take 'em both at once," the first man said. Together they forced both pricks into her mouth, first one then the other, and Rena licked and prayed that it would soon be over.
Warren leered at Ralph who merely stood, muted, stunned and shocked at what was being done to his wife. "My God! Rena!" he finally managed to get out and ran toward the bed. Warren restrained him.
"Easy, Old Buddy. I just want you should watch. But don't get no wild ideas or we'll tie you up too. Roxie here would just love to have a crack at your ass. Or should I say, have a go at your crack?"
Ralph stood back and miserably watched his wife being humiliated and used like the commonest of wretched whores. Most whores wouldn't even have stood for it, but she was helpless. Pinioned and spread-eagled physically; completely beaten mentally, she just lay there and let them use her as they would.
Both men worked themselves up into a frenzy and managed to cum at the same time. One jerked his prick a final time and splashed his hot, burning semen deep up into her helpless rectum. Almost at the same moment, the other came like a firing canon deep up in her cunt. The combination bumming was too much for the girl. She jerked her buttocks and vagina back and forth, skewered and impaled on two cocks and she, again, had an orgasm such as she had never before experienced. Ralph turned away and buried his face in his hands.
"Okay shit-face," Warren ordered him. "Get out!"
Ralph was only too glad to leave the room. He ran, half-stumbled and fell down the stairway. Riva was waiting at the bottom. "Just forget it, Red," she said. "It won't be so bad tomorrow."
Ralph fled from the vile house and drove around aimlessly until it was dawn. Then he went to his office, made some coffee, shaved with his electric razor and tried to assume a proper appearance for his appointments.
Warren's boys finally had their fill of Rena and in the wee hours of the morning finally left her spread obscenely out on the bed, her naked body completely covered with the lewd dregs of their expended passion.
Mrs. Ross had every vile, lewd act recorded on film and sound tape. Even she had become excited by what she had witnessed. She shut off the cameras and recorders and fell into bed, exhausted from what she had seen.
Warren's boys left after thanking the Boss profusely for a lovely evening. Warren remained long enough to give Riva some instructions.
"Send her to the Commodore Hotel when she wakes up and well make a little money outta that tight lil pussy."
"Warren, you can't do this," Riva protested.
"Don't tell me what I can or cannot do. I do anything I dammed well please in this town. And don't you give me no lip if you want to stay healthy."
With that, he too left, leaving Riva with her thoughts.
The girl stepped back and admitted a tall, extremely handsome, blond, Nordic man. He might have been in his forties--maybe fifties. It was difficult to tell.
"How do you do Mr. Mayor," he spoke with a charming Scandinavian accent. "My name is Jorg Jensen.
"Yes, Mr. Jensen, what can I do for you?"
"Nothing, sir. Nothing. I have come to do something for you."
"Oh, You--you said it had something to do with Rena my wife."
"So, it does. Where is she?"
"II don't know." Ralph had great difficulty maintaining control. He was about to break into tears. He picked up Rena's note and handed it to Mr. Jensen. The man read it quickly, smiled and nodded.
"Don't worry, Mr. Doyle. I will put a stop to all of this and see to it that your wife is returned to you safely.
"How?"
"You must leave that to me. I am afraid I can give you no real answers or anything definite. But, be assured, your wife will come back to you and all will be well."
"My God, if you can do that I'll pay anything--anything I can manage to raise. I I'm not a rich man but.. . "
"Money is not involved here," Jensen interrupted. "There is something much more important to be done. And now, if you'll excuse me.
Jorg Jensen left the office, but not without a final instruction. "You are to do nothing--absolutely nothing. Go home, take a drink and try to relax. I will attend to all the details."
Ralph sat at his desk for a long moment. Who in hell was this Jorg Jensen? Could he trust him? Was he part of the diabolic mess he and Rena had gotten themselves and the whole town into?
He finally decided to take the man's advice and go home. He was worn out anyway, physically and mentally. He got into his car, drove home slowly, took a drink and a sleeping pill and soon was fast in the arms of Morpheus.
He might not have slept so peacefully had he known what further tortures and humiliations Rena was undergoing. After her ordeal, Riva had made her bathe, dress and then had her chauffeur drive her to the Ambassador Hotel, per Warren's instructions.
The Ambassador Hotel, for all its imagine name, was a flea bag in the worst part of town; one of Warren's whorehouses. Warren had already informed his "caretaker" to expect a new tenant and to spread the word that some special, young cunt would be available.
Almost as soon as Rena arrived and was shown the cubicle that passed for a room, she had her first visitor; a rather timid man who didn't quite know how to take such a lovely young woman, although he had paid fifty dollars for the privilege. It was Rena, tired and weary as she was, who had to tease him into a hard-on and finally, after sucking him, excited the man into an orgasm. If she was going to be a whore, so be it. Anything to save Ralph. She only hoped she would prove to be a good whore and that Warren and Mrs. Thayer wouldn't be angry with her and make trouble for her husband.
While Rena was "entertaining" her first client, Jorg Jensen had gone to Mrs. Thayer's house. The moment Mrs. Ross opened the door and looked deep into his eyes, she knew that her prayers had been answered. Here was a Witch of the highest order; neither she nor Riva were a match for this man. He was one of the Devil's right hands. Mrs. Ross could hardly wait to welcome him into the house and call for Mrs. Thayer. As soon as she had performed her duties she went to the Chapel to offer up her thanks to His Most Satanic Majesty.
Mrs. Thayer, too, blanched a deep purple when she saw Jorg Jensen. One witch can always tell another; always knows another.
"Toto what am I indebted for the honor of this visit?" she began tentatively.
"You have displeased our Master in many ways and too many times," Jorg told her. "We have our code of ethics also you know."
"I know. But I thought.. . "
"First of all," Jorg interrupted, "you should have prepared Mrs. Ross for her transformation several years ago."
"I meant to, but.. . "
"You were jealous of her and enjoying yourself by playing 'God'", Jorg told her.
"Secondly," Jorg continued, "His Most Satanic Majesty feels that you have gone far too far with Mayor Doyle and his wife. You will turn the entire community against Him and His pursuit of new souls will be made that much more difficult. A scandal such as you propose and threaten would merely turn the people back to the Church. You should know by now that this kind of thing always results into a return to Christian religion and principles. We cannot have this. Accordingly, you will be punished."
Riva's body suddenly grew cold with fear and hot with burning heat at the same time; not the heat of passion but with the fires of Hell.
"What--what are you going to do to me?"
"The punishment is prescribed." Jorg took out a black book and carefully turned the pages. "For insubordination and failure to conduct yourself as properly befits a first-class witch in his Most Satanic Majesty's realm, you are to be raped by seven devils, goblins and gnomes."
"No, please!" Riva fell to her knees.
"It will result in a pregnancy from which our Master will claim a new son."
"Then then He is not totally displeased with me?"
"As a Witch, yes, as a potential vessel to serve His ends, no. You will now retire to the Chapel, repeat your Catechism, disrobe, and prepare for your ordeal by fire."
Jorg Jensen rose, placed his smart, black homburg on his head, and without another word, left the house.
Riva shook her head and started wearily to the Chapel. She dared not even call upon Mrs. Ross for help. The old woman had been watching the entire proceedings and chuckling to herself. "At least," she murmured. "At last!"
Riva entered the Chapel, divested herself of every stitch of clothing, knelt, kissed the foot of the Altar and lay herself down prone upon the steps leading up to the idol of the Devil. She closed her eyes and almost at once went into a deep trance.
From out of nowhere from the walls, the floors, the ceiling, appeared a group of the most weird, fantastic assortment of depraved figures ever conjured up by the mind of man or the Devil. One by one; two by two; eventually in combinations of threes and fours, they hovered over her, teasing her breasts, her stomach, her buttocks and helpless cunt. They took turns fucking her. Riva came and came and came until she was crying for mercy. She could not stand the half-pain, half-ecstasy any longer. She literally screamed to be let alone.
Finally, it was done. She had been impregnated with the Devil's own brew of sperm. She could already feel a vague stirring deep in her belly. Soon she would give birth to another Witch a son-devil who would carry on the work of debasing mankind and enrolling souls in the Devil's army.
When she finally found the power to move she returned to the bedroom. She wanted to take a shower and wash the filth from her body. She started into the bathroom and caught sight of herself in the mirrors. She was beginning to age. There were now lines in her face. Her breasts had begun to sag; wrinkles appeared on her forehead and the once slim, firm stomach and waist had begun to fill out and crinkle.
"Oh, God!" was all she could think of to say. But it was no use appealing to God. Her God had willed it this way and that was the way it was to be.
In her upstairs servant quarters, the exact opposite effect was being to take place on the body and in the face of Mrs. Ross. As she looked at herself she felt new life, new blood surging through her entire being. Her face became firm, soft and beautiful. Her pitifully sagging breasts filled out, became firm and blossomed forth in all splendor. She was becoming young again. Her wishes, her prayers and her dedication were finally being answered.
Within the hour the two women had changed places. Mrs. Thayer emerged from the bathroom an old hag. Mrs. Ross was a gorgeous woman who looked not over twenty-five. She descended the stairs to the bedroom of mirrors and found an old crone sitting at a dressing table, unable to believe the image that stared back.
"You may lay out my clothes now, Mrs. Thayer," she ordered. I will be leaving town tonight. Pack everything that I will need and put the rest into storage. You know what to do. You have been given your instructions."
Mrs. Thayer merely nodded and whispered, "Yes, Ma'am."
Ralph continued sitting and waiting. He dared not move from his chair and had given orders that he would accept no calls except from a Mr. Jensen. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the call came. "Mr. Mayor?" the soft voice began. "Yes. Yes, sir." Doyle answered eagerly.
"You will find your wife in room 216 of the Ambassador Hotel. I suggest that you take a contingent of your Vice Squad and go there immediately."
"But Mrs. Thayer--Warren Howard?"
"Mrs. Thayer has been dispos.. . uh--taken care of. You will find Mr. Howard in room 419. Evidence to convict him on narcotics, prostitution and gambling activities will be found in a wall safe in the room. It is hidden behind a picture of.. . "there was a slight repugnant pause.. . "the Virgin Mary."
"How-how can I ever thank you?"
"Oh, there will come a day," Jorg replied with a smile. "You'll hear from me."
The connection was broken. Mayor Doyle wasted no time carrying out his instructions. He and his squad arrived at the Ambassador within minutes. When he identified himself and demanded admittance into Rooms 216 and 419 the clerk on duty turned several shades of red, pink, blue and purple and tried to run from the premises. Some of Doyle's officers stopped him half way out the door.
Ralph banged on the door of Room 216 while the rest of his men broke their way into 419. Rena screamed when she saw him. She was fucking a dwarf. The unfortunate small monster had a prick as big and longer than Warren's and was straddling her face, dangling it in her hair, between her breasts and tickling the head of it on her lips. Ralph leaped on the deformed little man, yanked him off Rena and threw him into the waiting arms of his vice squad. Then he went to the bed, took Rena into his arms and embraced her tenderly.
"My darling, my darling," he rocked her back and forth and pressed her close. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Rena couldn't hold back her tears. They were tears of joy as well as hysterical.
"It's all right, Rena. It's all right now," Ralph soothed her. "Get dressed darling. We're going home."
True to Jensen's word, all the evidence needed to put Warren Howard and "his boys" away for good, long sentences was found in the wall safe in room 419.
Unfortunately, when the Mayor and his squad raided Mrs. Thayer's mansion the following morning they found nothing. All the mirrors were stripped from the walls; the camera equipment had been removed. In fact, the home resembled a haunted house more than anything else. Except, of course, there aren't any such things as "haunted houses."
What happened to Mrs. Thayer and Mrs. Ross? Well, they're operating in another city now. Their roles are changed but their modus operandi remains the same. Why should it change? The Devil has been using it for centuries and it never fails.
What city?
I'm really not quite sure. It could be the one you live in. What do you think?
