To those of you have read Roger Grayson's A "Neighborhood Party, a masterful works on the psychology and social dangers of wife swapping, we need give no introduction as to our opinion toward him as an author. But to those who have not we would like to say that we feel Mr. Grayson has captured the tempo of our times relative to intra-marital relations with far more insight than any other author of this era. In his previous work, he explored the intrinsic reasons, or at least several of the multitude, of why seemingly normal happy couples engage in extra-marital sex with the full knowledge and consent of the other party.
Now in his latest novel he delves into the neighborhood prostitution ring. The particular incident he chooses here is not necessarily reflective of all the circumstances under which this phenomena takes place but is merely one flagrant example. In most cases, the husband is unaware of the use to which his home is being put during his working hours but here the young housewife Sara becomes enmeshed in the bizarre dealings of her neighbor with her husband's full knowledge. Though he does not directly participate in her initial debauchment of his young wife he does know about it and in effect trades her body for advancement in his company. This adds a new dimension to the moral Author Grayson attempts to put across: The part that greed plays in this world.
We are going to leave the deeper analysis to the reader this time, which is contrary to our usual editorial policy but we feel that Mr. Grayson has done such an admirable piece of work that anything we could say about it would only lead to redundancy. He speaks with a clear and simple tongue and transmits a message that all of us might learn from.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
Sara Donovan had been in the kitchen fixing canapes and helping Jill with more gin and tonics. It had been another hot day and though they usually drank very little when they got together, the weather had everyone thirsting for something cool. Sara had already had three and was glad Bill wouldn't be home that evening, it wouldn't do for her husband to come in and find her so tipsy from a bridge game.
She had welcomed a chance to get away from the living room and keep herself busy in the kitchen. Not only was she losing again;... she'd lost so much money lately, the conversations at the three tables had returned again to what seemed to be the only topic of interest. Sex!
Maria and Jane had started it again, as usual And because they were at different tables, their descriptions of the new positions they'd found couldn't help but be overheard by the rest of the players. Sara couldn't understand it; each Tuesday those two seemed to be trying to outdo each other with stories of some new gymnastic maneuver they'd invented!
At first, Sara had tried to picture Bill and herself in one of those contorted embraces but finally gave up because she was sure it was impossible. Now she just tried not to listen, but Maria's strident voice proved that too was impossible.
A few moments ago she could feel her cheeks redden as, not only Maria and Jane, but the rest of the girls had started to compare the sizes of their husbands' sex organs.
Blurting something to cover her embarrassment, Sara had hurried to the kitchen. As she left the room, Sara was sure she heard her name mentioned as one of the girls whispered and the others broke out laughing.
If they were laughing at her, Sara tried to convince herself that even that was better than sitting in there blushing like a complete idiot!
How could they do that? How could they talk and laugh about something that should be so private, so sacred between two married people?
As Jill left with the tray of gin and tonics, Sara sipped at hers and stayed in the kitchen, trying to put off going back into the living room for as long as possible. Suddenly, she heard the laughing louden in the other room and the kitchen door opened. It was Maria.
"Sara, darling! What's taking you so long? You're holding up a new hand... and besides, the girls are awfully anxious to hear about that lovely husband of yours.
"Wh... What do you mean?" Sara asked tremulously. "What about Bill?... I... I don't tinder- stand."
"Oh, Sara, of course you do. We've all admired that handsome man you've got wrapped around your little finger... we just want to know if he's as virile as he looks... Come on, I'll give you a hand." Maria picked up one of the trays of canapes, and gave Sara a slight nudge toward the living room.
"Wait!" she couldn't do it... she just couldn't... she didn't want to say anything, she didn't even know what to say! "What's the matter, honey?" asked Maria, with a little laugh in her voice, as she pushed Sara into a sea of expectant faces.
She felt the blood rush to her face, and the room seemed to spin in dizzying circles... she felt so light, so free... and in the distance she could hear the tinkle of broken crystal.
Sara awoke, trying to clear the cobwebs from her befuddled mind, trying to quiet the pounding, throbbing hammers in her brain. She was in bed. But how? Where? Then, as the clouding haze lifted, she remembered: she'd been walking back into the living room, it had been about Bill... they wanted her to talk about Bill... but what had happened? Why was she here? Whose bed was it?
It was dark in the room, but suddenly a shaft of light washed across her face. There was someone in the doorway... it was Abby, their hostess! "Sara! how are you feeling, honey?"
"Oh, Abby, what happened? Why am I here?" Abby tenderly placed a cool cloth on Sara's forehead. "Don't worry, dear.
You just fainted... it was probably the heat and the gin. Just lie here for a while and relax.
Bill won't be home this evening, will he?" After Sara had explained that Bill would be out of town for several more days, Abby said: "See, honey, there's nothing to be concerned about, just stay in here and take a nap; I'll wake you in a while." Sara started to thank her, but Abby had already stepped back and closed the door.
As the room darkened again Sara's headache ebbed and she tried to reconstruct all that had happened to her that afternoon. She remembered playing bridge and losing... Good Grief!... she'd lost almost a hundred dollars! And then Maria and Jane had started talking about sex again, about their husbands and... that was if! They wanted Sara to tell them about Bill, about how he and Sara made love. They were laughing at her, and they wanted to know how big Bill's... how big Bill was!
Even in the solitude of the dimly lit room Sara blushed as she remembered her embarrassment... and she knew it wasn't the heat or the drinks that had made her faint!
She hadn't known what to say; they'd all been waiting like rabid vultures for her to stutter and stammer... to laugh at her, to tease her because she knew so little!
Tears trickled down her cheeks. Why had she ever joined this awful afternoon bridge club? Even Jill, who was her best friend, made fun of her whenever she refused to join in on those terrible conversations. She hadn't known it would be like this. Why did they have to act that way? They had all seemed so nice at first. She'd looked up to them, admired them. They all seemed so worldly, so sophisticated!
It wasn't her fault! Even if she hadn't had any experience with other men; she loved Bill, and she loved to go to bed with him! It didn't matter that she couldn't talk about wild experiences with hundreds of men... if they only knew... They were wrong! They had to be! If they experience what she felt when she and Bill made love they wouldn't have to talk about other men! They were just jealous... voyeurs! They didn't have anything beautiful themselves... those bitches!
Sara felt better as she wiped the hot tears from her stained face. That was it! They were just a bunch of envious old hags! She'd drop out of the Lonely Hearts Bridge Club.
Hah!, Lonely Hearts!... that's what they were, just a lot of bleeding old lonely hearts!
She'd tell Bill, she'd tell him why she dropped out-that she wanted him to get a job that would let him come home to her each evening. They'd have children. They'd make each other so happy that she'd never feel lonely again! And when he came home after work she'd meet him at the door... sometimes they wouldn't even wait for dinner- he'd hold her, and she'd take his hand and lead him up the stairs to the bedroom.
Sara's face felt flushed, but it wasn't from embarrassment. She remembered the other night, the night before Bill had gone on his trip... and the alcohol seemed to intensify the visions that whirled through her mind.
They'd been out by the pool in the apartment complex, drinking tall cool rum collins, and Bill was telling her how wonderful it would be when he got promoted. How he'd be home every night to hold her, to make love to her; how they'd finally be able to have a child without worrying about the expense. They'd both been wearing bathing suits, and hers was a tiny bikini, the one he liked so much.
At twenty-two, Sara knew she had a stunning body and Bill never stopped telling her how beautiful it was. They'd sit out by the swimming pool and he'd tease her about her high, thrusting breasts or her sleekly curved hips, and he delighted in pointing out the envious glances of the other less fortunate women or the covetous stares of the men. Sara had never realized how much attention she was attracting until he'd told her to take a closer look at the men around the pool. Then she'd seen them lying around on their stomachs peering under their arms at her, the way they "accidentally" bumped against her when she was in the pool... once she had caught Jill's husband... she giggled to herself as she remembered... he'd been staring at her over the top of a magazine he was so nonchalantly trying to appear reading, except that he had it upside down!
Sara felt a chill race down her back and she drew her legs up and placed her hands between her knees like a small child as she remembered Bill taking her hand as they talked about making love. He'd dropped a hand on her thigh and was lightly tracing tantalizing designs up and down the silken skin with his fingertips, raising chill bumps all over her arms and back. Then he'd huskily whispered that it seemed to be cooler. Sara knew what he wanted, what SHE wanted, and she picked up the glasses and the towels and had to restrain herself from running back to their apartment past the other people at the pool. She and Bill had tried to walk casually back to their patio, but Sara wondered if the others had been able to see her legs trembling.
Here, in Abby's bedroom, the afternoon heat seemed to have suddenly left the room and Sara shivered either from the coolness or from the erotic memory of the way she and Bill had made love.
As Sara groped for the bedspread to pull it down she realized Abby must have removed the rest of her clothes earlier when she had laid her on the bed, because now Sara was wearing only her soft, wispy bra and panties. Yes, there they were on the chair, with the dress neatly folded. She pulled back the covers and as she slid underneath her body jerked with the sudden chilling shock of the crisp, cold sheets. Shivering, waiting for the bed to warm up, Sara huddled under the covers with her trembling hands clasped between her knees.
While the warmth slowly returned to her body, Sara's thoughts were once again on Bill and the other afternoon.
They had raced up the stairs laughing and Bill had caught her from behind. He'd grabbed the bottom of her bathing suit and as she twisted to get away from him he pulled it to her knees. With her legs trapped by the tiny bikini bottom she'd fallen at the top of the stairs and he landed laughingly on top of her. She kicked the suit off her ankles and tried unsuccessfully to get away from him. But he picked her up as if she were light as a feather and carried her, squealing and with arms and legs flailing helplessly, to the bedroom.
Sara's eyes clouded and she felt a quiver of delight as she remembered how he had tossed her on the king-sized bed and slowly and teasingly removed the top of her bikini... she could almost feel his hands now... lacing their way lightly across her heaving breasts, across her sensitive erectile nipples and tantalizingly down the gentle curve of her stomach to the arching mound of soft, silken blonde hair between her legs.
Huddled under the covers, still hazy from the alcohol, and immersed in the erotic fantasy of the other afternoon, Sara forgot the disturbing events earlier in the day and felt a calming peacefulness sweep over her. Her body tingled all over and she gently scratched her sharp fingernails across the prickling surface of her skin. She itched maddeningly under the restraining confines of her bra and panties, and she straightened out and reached behind her to undo the tiny hooks of the wispy black lace bra. As it fell free her breasts seemed to enlarge and her nipples grew unbelievably hard and erect.
Her fingernails sent quivering chills through her body as her hands lightly traced their way to the elastic band of her flimsy nylon panties. She had to take them off! She itched everywhere that she was covered by clothing, but it felt so good to tease herself by removing them slowly.
In the dark quietness of the room it was easy for her to pretend that Bill's hands, and not hers were caressing her aching body. Bill's hands that had hooked their thumbs in the matching black lace panties and were easing them down over her curved, straining thighs!
As she brought her knees up to pull the briefs from her ankles, Sara was lost in the fanciful dream that Bill really was in bed with her... she could feel his hands... feel him touching her.
God, she felt hot! When she kicked the panties somewhere beneath the covers she could feel his fingertips moving caressingly back up her legs, stopping-then continuing across the painfully sensitive golden skin, achingly over the backs of her legs, around to the soft, baby-smoothness of the insides of her arching thighs.
She'd never felt his hands touch her so tenderly before! As if his fingertips knew just exactly where she wanted them to go! She could feel them brush ever so lightly across the sparse curled hair, and then back into the gentle crease on either side of her soft, honey-colored mound-the almost imperceptible lien that was formed by the juncture of her sleekly rounded thighs and the sudden rising arch of her pubis.
She wanted to feel them inside her! She wanted his fingertips to scratch, to tantalize the thrusting bud of her clitoris-to part the moistened lips of her longing, lusting vagina... to venture hesitantly, then probingly into her very being.
But they seemed to have some perverse will of their own! She wanted to cry out, to plead with Bill to keep his hands there, to beg him not to move... to reach inside her with his fingers!-But only a gasping moan came from her lips as she felt the torturing hands exploring upwards.
Her mind screamed in agonized pleasure as teasing fingernails scratched their way across her heaving belly, lightly up and down the goose-pimpled flesh over her ribs. Her breasts! She wanted him to fondle her breasts! Why wouldn't he obey? Suddenly, as if in answer to her desires, a wave of pain and ecstasy jolted through her body as her nipples were twisted and pinched brutally. Then, in contrition, an apology for the hurt they had caused-his hands held her whole breasts softly and tenderly until the pain subsided.
Sara threw back the covers, and her breath came in fiery gasps as she arched her back to the cool air. She spread her thighs and with her knees bent she raised her buttocks completely off the bed. Still holding her breasts with both hands, she thrust her belly and aching loins forward and outward, feeling the quick coolness as the perspiration on her thighs and tightened buttocks evaporated.
The beautiful young blonde on the bed was totally under the spell of her sexual reverie.
She believed, no, she knew her husband was there. Longing for her. And she was reaching out for him with her hungering loins... waiting for him to come inside her.
Sara fell back on the bed. Her hands left her breasts, and she reached down between her thighs. Her straining, trembling fingers spread the throbbing lips of her vagina as wide as they would go, and she plunged two of them deeply into the pulsing furnace.
Shadows danced across her ivory breasts as they rose and fell with her tortured breathing, and she thrust her fingers faster and faster in and out of her hot, hungry cunt.
She scraped her fingernails ruthlessly across the hard, erectile button of her clitoris and waves of pain and pleasure swept through her, almost causing her to scream in lust and ecstasy. Her hands moved faster and more brutally, flashes of light exploded behind her closed eyes as she felt the boiling raging pressure building up inside her.
A wild, fiery flame of fire was burning far down in her quivering belly and it drove her churning body on and on in its hungering quest for the delicious sensation building and building in every pore of her glistening body.
And then it came!
The muscles in her straining thighs contracted violently and she cried out wildly thinking the end was there but the driving, rhythmic thrusting of her fingers set off another explosion of delight that she never in her wildest dreams thought was possible. Her buttocks rotated frantically against the sheets beneath her like a helpless ship caught on the vicious waves of a raging storm. She arched her back, driving her head buffeting against the pillow, her hair spread like a golden fan, her full, quivering breasts trembling and swirling in jerking circles as she quickened her movements to meet the mounting urgency she could feel pulsating so deep inside her quivering belly.
Now! Her legs jerked uncontrollably and a great tongue of erotic fire leaped up inside her and exploded in a volcanic eruption of climactic orgasm.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaahhh! she moaned, her head turning from side to side, her hair beating the pillow like a golden whip. The muscles of her hips and belly contracted in rolling waves of spasm until finally, weak and exhausted, she fell limply back onto the bed.
It was almost two hours later that Sara was awakened by the gentle touch of Abby's hand on her shoulder. "Sara, dear, you must have had a terrible dream! Look at these sheets, they're soaking wet! Why don't you take a quick shower? I'll lay out some fresh towels in the bathroom and afterwards we'll meet in the den."
As Abby quietly closed the door Sara slowly eased herself out of bed and turned on the lamp by the bed. The sudden light set off the insistent throbbing of her headache again and she had to grab a chair for support when she felt the weakness in her legs.
A few moments later, under the stinging cold spray of the shower she felt her headache ebbing, and at the same time, felt a flush of shame spreading through her as she remembered how blatantly she had played With herself.
She hadn't meant to! But the alcohol and the lewd words the women had used had driven her on! God! It had felt so much like Bill was there with her! So much like his hands!
She increased the force of the spray, adding more hot water, and tried to scrub the stickiness from her body... she felt so unclean. Finally, the soap and the hot water made her feel better and she stepped from the shower into the steaminess of the bathroom.
Wrapping herself in one of the huge towels Abby had laid out for her, Sara hurried back to the bedroom and dressed.
Reflecting for a minute before she went downstairs, she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Why had she come today? It had been so horrible... they'd all laughed at her- and she had lost even more money. How could she have been so stupid? Bill was working so hard to save money so they could afford a child and she was losing it all at a stupid bridge game!
She heard Abby calling her from the foot of the stairs and hurriedly brushed the tears from her cheeks and closed the door behind her.
"Sara, go ahead into the den-I'll bring in the coffee." Sara leaned back on the couch in the walnut-panelled den and reached absently for one of the brandy snifters that had been set out on a small tray on the coffee table. God, she needed something to soothe her shattered nerves. It had been warmed, and the first sip sent a soothing stream of liquid heat down her throat and into her stomach. She sat there listlessly, rolling the amber cognac around in the glass between two hands, not even noticing the tears that the full-bodied fumes were once again bringing to her eyes.
"Sara, dear, are you crying?" Her hostesses voice surprised her thoughts. "Oh, it must be the heated brandy. I thought it would go well with the coffee and it does taste so much better when it's been warmed."
"What?... Oh, Abby... I... I guess I was crying. I feel so terrible!" Abby set down another tray with small demi-tasse cups, a silver coffee pot, and several little finger sandwiches, then consolingly put a plump arm around the younger girl's shoulder. "There... there... don't cry, dear. Here, dry your eyes. There's nothing to cry about, you just had a rough afternoon," Abby said with an understanding tone to her voice. "Have a little more brandy."
Sara had already drained the snifter without really even tasting it, and she shakily held it out while Abby refilled it. Then, without warning, tears flowed in torrents from her eyes and she sobbed uncontrollably. "Oh, Abby... what can I do? It's not just this afternoon. It's the money! I've lost so much money!"
A strange quirked little smile appeared at the corners of Abby's mouth and then vanished as quickly as it had come.
"Sshhh... honey, don't cry... you'll win it back. Everyone has streaks when they'll lose for a while. Don't worry, you'll start winning, and no one will be able to stop you."
"But A-abby... " Sara interrupted, "I keep losing... I have to keep getting money from you to pay my debts. How am I ever going to be able to pay you back?"
Sara's shoulders shook convulsively, and she buried her head in both hands trying to stem the flow of tears streaming down her face.
Abby patted her tenderly and handed her the glass of brandy. "Here, sip this... it'll make you feel better and I'm certain we can work something out."
The two of them seated on the curved couch in the richly furnished den looked almost like mother and daughter from a distance. The young girl, even with a tear-stained face and disarrayed honey-blonde hair, had light golden skin and was almost unbelievably beautiful. She was tall and slender but her figure was strikingly formed, with long graceful legs and full womanly breasts. Abby Baines was not quite as tall and the tell-tale signs of middle age were discernable if one looked close enough, but it was easy to see that at one time she would have easily rivaled the younger girl in beauty. She had gained, perhaps, a little too much weight but the exquisitely tailored clothing she always wore usually hid that fact from the men that admired her distinctive and aristocratic attractiveness.
It was only when you came closer and compared the almost child-like innocent aura that surrounded Sara Donovan with hard coldness of the older woman. And now, with the girl silently weeping on her shoulder Abby Baines sat, seeming to console her, but with an expression of indifferent contempt lining her lips.
The warming glow of the cognac had made Sara feel considerably better, she could feel it spreading soothingly through her whole body and she made no objection when Abby reached to pour her a third glass.
"There, child... I've always found a little brandy and coffee can get rid of most problems," Abby said gently.
Once the tears had cleared away, the younger girl leaned back and relaxed a little. "Thank you so much, I don't know what I would have done without your help," Sara said throatily.
Abby had been so kind to her. She was the undisputed social leader of the small town of Monterey and Sara had been pleased and astonished when she had been invited to meet with her exclusive circle and to join them fervor Tuesday when they played bridge. Even though Sara knew she had probably been asked only because Bill had recently been transferred and now worked for Winston Baines, Abby's husband.
At first, Sara had been a little awed by Abby Baines, the statuesque Jill Adams, and the others -but they had all been so receptive and anxious to put her at ease that her discomfort lasted only a short time. The Tuesday bridge parties were usually very entertaining, particularly at first, and because Sara had always been considered an almost exceptional bridge player she had had no qualms when Abby had suggested one day that they liven up the games by betting small amounts on the games. As a matter of fact, she was secretly delighted because she felt sure she could win, and the extra money would come in so handy. Besides, she couldn't really have backed out anyway; with Bill working for Abby's husband, Sara knew she could help him considerably by making a good impression on Abby.
But, things had been going so badly! For over three months she had been losing consistently, and if it hadn't been for Abby herself she would have been in a terrible spot!
After the third week when Sara had already lost almost a hundred dollars Abby must have noticed the worried look in her eyes and when the games ended she quietly called her aside.
"Sara, dear-when the losses were totaled up you seemed to be a little distressed... can I help in any way?" Sara, rather than telling the truth (that she really couldn't afford to play at these stakes) had told her but of pride that it wasn't really the money so much, instead that she was worried about facing Bill with her losses. Abby had laughed in agreement, made some remark about men never having to account for their gambling losses and how rough it was for a lonely wife to have a little fun... and then had offered to advance any money that Sara needed. Initially, Sara had protested loudly until Abby had insisted, telling her that she wouldn't miss the money anyway, that she'd grown to like Sara so much that she couldn't bear the thought of her dropping out of the club just because of some paltry gambling debt, and mostly because Sara could easily pay her back when she started to win.
Finally, Sara had acquiesced, and since that time Abby had been slipping her money on the side to cover any of her losses. It was so quietly and graciously done that Sara didn't even have any idea how much money she had borrowed from Abby. She knew it must be a considerable amount because her luck hadn't changed at all, it had even gotten worse, and she lost quite a bit every week.
There had been many times when she had thought about dropping out of the club, but that wouldn't have worked. At least while she was playing she had a chance of winning some of the money back so that she could repay Abby, but if she quit she'd have no way to pay her back and she could imagine what that would do to Bill's career with Mr. Baines company if Abby decided to complain... though she knew Abby was too nice to do that.
And now, sitting on the couch with Abby, Sara's mind was working furiously. The glow that the brandy had suffused throughout her body had loosened her inhibitions and her fear of embarrassing herself, and she had decided to tell Abby the truth: That she was going too far into debt and would really have to drop out for a while. She was going to explain how Bill had been working so hard for a promotion so that he would be able to stop travelling, how he'd been trying so hard to save enough so that they could finally plan their first child.
She'd tell Abby how wonderful, how very wonderful Bill was, and what it might do to their marriage if Bill found out what she had been doing all the time he had been trying so hard to save money.
Although she wanted desperately for the other women in the club to think that she was the wife of a very successful and well-to-do young businessman, she knew Abby would understand how they had been struggling and why she had been embarrassed to tell the others.
"Sara... Sara... "
"What?... Oh, Abby, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I was wrapped up in my thoughts." Abby had been tapping her lightly on the shoulder and it had taken a moment to snap her out of her imagined conversation.
"Sara, dear, are you feeling better now, has the brandy helped any?"
Sara, looking into the almost motherly warmth of Abby's face, felt a bond between her and the older woman, and knew that Abby would understand what she had to say. "Abby... I've got to talk to you... "
"Certainly, my dear, is something wrong between you and Bill?"
"Oh no, it's nothing like that, not yet... it's the money I've been borrowing from you... I've... I've lost so much, and I never can ever seem to win anything."
Sara went on to tell Abby everything, how she couldn't afford to lose anymore, that she'd have to find some other way to pay her back. Too ashamed to look at Abby while she was talking, Sara sat staring into the golden amber of her cognac, her eyes slightly glazed from the brandy and the tears that slowly formed as words spilled hesitantly, jerkingly forth... punctuated by silent sobs.
As Sara repeated again that she had to quit, she just had to... she lifted her head pleadingly, only to see a different Abby!... a look she had never seen before in her eyes.
The older woman's face had lost its compassion -the hard, cold glitter in her eyes was made even more foreboding by the sharp creases that bordered her frown. Disbelievingly, Sara stared at the hardened mask of Abby's face. As confused explanations tumbled through the younger girl's mind, Abby Baines rose and looked contemptuously down at the weeping girl.
"Stop it, Sara!... I lent you all of this money because you seemed like a responsible person-and now you tell me you want to drop out of the club and apparently the club's the only way you'll ever have to pay me back... what do you want me to do?... FORGET IT!
"But, I... I told you... "
"You told me what! You've done nothing but whimper all afternoon! What are you, too good for us?"
"What do you mean?... "
"It wasn't the heat! You're a mature woman, or at least I thought you were. Do our conversations disgust you... are they below your exalted position? At first, it was funny- but now I've realized that you're just a sniping little prude!"
Sara's shoulders shook convulsively. Her heaving sobs choking the words she tried to express. "I... I'm not a... please, Abby... why... why?"
"I'll tell you this much, little Miss Donovan... you're not dropping out of this club until I say so! You owe me that money and you're going to pay it back... or I can make things very unpleasant for you... and Bill! Is that understood?"
Sara cried out. "Bill!... you wouldn't hurt Bill... he doesn't have anything to do with this... "
"He may not have anything to do with it now, but he will. Do you have any idea what would happen if I had a little talk with Winston about this? He'd fire him in a minute, and... also, my little pet, he'd make certain he didn't work again for awhile anywhere!"
Before Sara could even answer, Abby continued: "If I were you, dear, I would do some serious thinking between now and next Tuesday as to just how you plan to take care of this little matter."
With icy calmness, Abby carefully set down her half-empty Brandy snifter on the table and turned towards the double oaken doors of the den. When she reached them she looked back at the stricken form trembling on the couch and, as a parting remark: "I'm sure you'll be able to find your way out the door as many times as you've taken advantage of my hospitality." The sound of the massive doors closing was echoed by the words: "See you Tuesday, and be on time!"
CHAPTER TWO
Damn it! Why is that stove so slow? That roast is going to take at least another half hour, Sara thought as she closed the oven door. Checking the vegetables on the stove once again, she tried to think if there was anything that she had missed. Tonight had to be perfect! She wanted everything to be just right.
It was Friday-and Bill would be home any minute. She'd been planning this dinner ever since Wednesday afternoon when she had resolved to tell him everything that had happened at Abby's the day before... there was no other way out. Even if Abby does go through with her threat and jeopardize Bill's job... she can't take the risk of losing any more money, money that they don't have-she and Bill can do something... they can sell one of the cars, or something... Maybe Abby won't do anything, maybe Mr. Baines won't blame it on Bill... but if they do, I've got to tell Bill first... before they tell him!
And, I will tell him! she thought. I'll tell him tonight after a beautiful dinner and wine. He'll understand. He loves me-he won't let some old bitch... or money come between us.
Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.
Bill! She ran back into the kitchen to the refrigerator. Taking the two tulip-shaped chilled glasses and the bottle of champagne with her, she hurried back to the front door to meet him.
Throwing open the door to hand him the champagne bottle as a surprise, she felt a jar and heard the crash of breaking glass. She didn't know what had happened until she saw the broken foaming bottle of champagne that he was holding and the dripping roses in his other hand. As they both stood there holding broken bottles they began to laugh.
"Darling!" Bill said, as he dropped the broken chards of glass and flowers and reached for her. Without a word, they stood there with their arms around each other and laughing hysterically.
Still laughing, he said, "Well, that's a hell of a note! Here I try to surprise you and you swing at me with a bottle of champagne!"
"Oh, Darling, I wanted to surprise you! Why didn't you warn me?"
"Don't worry about the wine... I've got two more surprises for you! Follow me!" And Bill took her hand and led her back out toward the garage. "What is it, Bill? What are... where are you taking me?"
"Close your eyes, you'll see."
Sara was pulled along as she heard the garage door opening. She could hear the joy in Bill's voice as he asked her: "What's your favorite color?" She started to open her eyes when he said, "Wait! What is it?" It slowly began to dawn on her what it was, and with a sense of foreboding, she said: "Oh, Bill... I don't know... WHY?"
"Open your eyes!" There it was! She knew it! The brand new Thunderbird convertible they'd been looking at so longingly for the past two months.
"Oh, Bill, it beautiful!... but, how?... We can't afford it! Bill looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Yesterday we couldn't... But today you're looking at the new sales manager of Rejoyce Plastics, Inc. I took all our savings and plunked it right down on this little baby.
Now, if we save carefully we can have the real baby we've wanted so long in less than a year."
"Oh Bill... " she said, trying to hide the tears forced into her eyes by the flood of confused emotions.
In the background behind the stinging saltiness, she could hear him whispering in her ear how wonderful it was... how long they'd waited.
Bill had mistaken her tears for tears of joy, and laughing happily he led her back to the apartment. "Here, we can't have a sales manager's wife cut her royal feet," and he picked her up and carried her into the living room.
As he went back to gather the bouquet of roses he'd dropped, her thoughts whirled frantically with the news of his promotion... and his spending of their savings... There was no way! she couldn't tell him about her gambling debts now.
"Dear, is something burning?" Bill said from he doorway, his hands full of broken glass and flowers.
THE ROAST! She'd burnt the roast! "Oh, no! the roast," Sara ran into the kitchen.
Later, as they sat at the small candlelit table, Bill was teasing Sara, "Darling, I like roast beef this way... it's sorta' crunchy! I'd say it was a job very well done!"
"Bill, you stop it! It's all your fault. If you hadn't gone out and gotten promoted and bought a new car, the roast would have been just perfect."
"Darling, you still haven't told me... what was your surprise? Why the candlelight and champagne?" asked Bill curiously. Sara almost panicked momentarily, but said: "It wasn't anything special, Honey, just that I love you and missed you so much!"
When Sara had been setting the table Bill had driven down to the liquor store and replaced the two bottles of champagne they'd broken. Throughout the dinner, as they talked about how wonderful it was going to be as soon as Bill no longer had to travel with his job (the promotion meant that in three months Bill would be assigned to the home office here in Monterey,) and as they laughed and toasted each other the champagne had been flowing like wine. The bubbling wine had affected Sara the way he had known it would, from the way she looked at him and the way she reached across continually and ran her fingers lightly up and down his thigh.
He took her hand, telling her to forget about the dishes, and led her into the living room.
He'd built a fire earlier and the flickering light from the fire- place was the only illumination in the room. Spread out on the floor in front of the fireplace were several sheepskin rugs a friend of his, a pilot for Qantas Airlines, had brought back from Australia. As Sara stretched out on their three-inch softness, Bill returned to the kitchen for the second bottle of champagne and two more chilled glasses in the refrigerator. Coming back into the dimly lit living room, he was almost overwhelmed with desire and love for his wife as he stood quietly watching her. She lay on her stomach gazing into the fire and the dancing light from the flames had given her hair the color of burning gold.
She was wearing probably the only dress he'd ever picked out for her, and the one he liked best. It was a short white Roman toga that fastened over one shoulder with a huge gold clasp... made of soft clinging material the pleated skirt swirled gracefully as she walked and the top was molded to her breasts like a coating of ivory paint.
She never wore it except when they were alone, and then without a bra, her nipple clearly visible beneath the translucent whiteness.
Now, as she lay facing the fire, the toga had slid up almost to the tops of her thighs and only shadows prevented him from seeing the arched mounds of her buttocks. He had heard once that a woman should be like a saint to all men but her husband, and for him she should have the wantonness of a prostitute-For Bill, Sara had made this saying a reality. In the company of others she had the appearance of an innocent and virginal maiden but when they were alone she was unbelievably sensuous-reveling in the desires she could create in him-the excitement he felt at the mere sight of her long silken legs or the brushing caress of her proud thrusting breasts.
She was Cleopatra, Mata Hari, Marie Antoinette and Helen of Troy in one! And yet, she never used her body, her sensual power over him, as a bribe-a lever to extract from him what she desired. One of the reasons, perhaps, was that she herself didn't have the will power to deny herself the pleasures of his touch or the ecstasy of making love.
Sara lay in the enfolding softness of the great rugs and, as the lights danced before her eyes, thought of Bill. The happiness in him tonight and the champagne had driven all thoughts of Abby and her demands from her mind. Bathed in the glowing warmth of the fire she felt, more than heard, her husband come back into the room.
She knew he was standing back looking at her, and she luxuriated in the knowledge of how beautiful she was tonight. Almost feeling the heat of his eyes on the curved length of her legs, she stretched and slid back slightly-knowing that it made her diaphanous dress move even further up her thighs.
Bill pushed the slippers from his feet and kicked them away as he moved softly toward the fireplace. He could feel his legs weaken when he knelt beside his wife and set down the glasses. As he untwisted the wire of the champagne cork she rolled languorously over onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow. The quiet crackling of the logs was shattered by the sudden popping of the cork and his hand was soaked by the foaming wine. As he reached for the towel the bottle had been wrapped in to dry himself, she set down her glass and took his hand between hers. She gently brought his hand to her mouth and gazing up at him with a smoldering mystery in her eyes, she ran her tongue between his fingers and across his palm, lapping the bubbling champagne like a great golden cat.
His palm tingled at the feathering touch of her tongue, and as she began to nibble at the tiny hairs on his wrist, he shakily filled the two champagne glasses with his free hand.
The firelight made the rising bubbles look like dancing diamonds in the glass he offered to her proffered lips. She cupped the glass in her palm, the stem extending between two fingers and leaned sensuously back onto a huge pillow beckoning him to share it with her.
Bill moved forward onto his knees, turning onto his side, his lips separated from hers only by the width of the crystal goblet. The glass tilted back and forth between them slowly.
The sea of wine rolled back and forth in gentle swells reflecting the warm fire in their eyes as they sipped. The heat on his face from the burning logs and wine grew more intense as he watched his wife's pink, curling tongue dip into the champagne and saw her seductive gaze reach out to him from beneath her lowered eyelashes.
Bill took the glass from her cupped hands and drained it. He lifted it. "To love" And with a sudden flick of his wrist sent it shattering against the back of the fireplace.
Wordlessly, he reached for her, his hand behind her head drawing her to him, their lips momentarily apart... reaching out but not quite touching. He moved slightly closer, grasping her lower lip between his teeth, pulling the moist, soft flesh toward him... his teeth slipping off, and his lips enfolding her as he sucked her lip into his mouth.
Sara felt a tingling shock of electricity run icily into her mouth. Her darting tongue plunged deep into his mouth, back over the roof and across the front of his teeth, caressing the soft underside of his upper lip.
Bill leaned forward, his momentum pushing them both back onto the pillow. Crushing his mouth hard against hers as he thrust his tongue deep into the yearning heat of her mouth.
Her arms reached to encircle her neck, but he held them apart, spreading them wide as he crushed her hack into the softness of the pillow.
He lifted himself to one knee and rolled, half-sitting, to her side. She lay back against the pillow, her arms wide and her legs slightly spread... eyelashes shadowing her cheeks as she closed her eyes.
The fire cast a saffron glow across the supplicant shapeliness of his wife's reclining body.
Bending, he traced his fingers lightly across the arch of her feet... across her ankle... and slowly up the swelling curve of her calf. Around to the soft velvetness of the skin at the back of her knee, and returning to the tightening muscles of her thigh... flexing to the rhythm of her rising and falling breasts.
Her other leg drew up, then straightened as his fingers moved to the silken softness of the skin on the inside of her thigh. He felt her tremble slightly as his hand moved onward toward the arching mound covered only by the wispiness of white bikini panties.
His hand was now beneath the pleated folds of her toga and he continued upward until it touched the dampness of her panties. His little finger brushed the elastic ridge at her thigh and he tenderly slipped it under the tightness, touching the tousled mound of golden hair... not stopping, but moving along just under the silk to the outside of her hip.
He could feel the desire, the urgency in her trembling body, but instead of letting his hand remain there... where she wanted it... he withdrew it from beneath her toga and moved his fingers across the gentle swell of her belly to her side. His fingertips bounced softly across the ripples of her ribs, and in the soft firelight he could see gooseflesh prickle across her outstretched arms.
He traced circling lines across her breasts, watching the cloth covering the heaving mounds stretch as her nipples hardened, protruding as if they would push their way right through the silken imprisonment.
Sara's eyes were still closed tightly, her hands clenching and unclenching... moaning softly as he tortured her with his hands. He could see the pinkness of her tongue as she moistened her half-parted lips, felt her tautness as she quivered beneath his touch.
He reached for the gold clasp at her shoulder and she raised slightly to make it easier for him to unfasten, at the same time sliding down away from the pillow so that she was lying only on the feather softness of the sheepskin rugs.
As he pulled the clasp loose, the silk that had been pulled so tightly across her breasts fell away... exposing the redness and erectness of her left nipple. Her whole breast was bare, thrusting firmly upward and he took the nipple between his fingers, feeling her body jerk as he squeezed it and scratched his fingernail across the brown aureole around it.
Bill raised himself up onto both knees, and taking her toga in his hands, he began to ease it down her body... over her other breast and down to her waist until it was bunched around her hips.
She arched her back high off the floor so that he was able to slide it from beneath her. He inched the ivory dress slowly down her thighs watching her phenomenal body emerge like a beautiful butterfly from a silken cocoon.
As he pulled it from her ankles and tossed it somewhere behind him she lay there before the flickering lights of the fire wearing nothing but her panties... a triangular patch of white on a sea of gold.
Sara reached out for him, her eyes clouded with desire... and her hips undulating in revolving circles on the soft fur.
But Bill wouldn't hurry. The eight days he'd been away had seemed like months and he wanted to know again, to touch again every golden inch of his wife's soft, suppliant body.
He slipped his fingers beneath the elastic waistband and began to tug her panties from her hips. As she lifted to help he pulled them from under her buttocks and, with the firm insistence of his hands, rolled her over until she was lying face down before the fire.
He ran his eyes, then his hands, across the graceful curve of her back, then over the arching mounds of her buttocks-lightly between the shadowed crease between them, the soft tendrils of light golden hair tickling his fingers as his hands moved lower... to the satin downiness of her thighs.
When his hands reached her ankles, he bent even lower, almost double, so that he could run his tongue along the backs of her legs... stopping every inch or two to brush his lips across the satin skin.
Though it may have only taken moments, all time had stopped before the dancing firelight and it seemed like hours before Sara felt his lips finally traverse the full length of her body and felt the burning heat of his breath on her neck. He ran his tongue around the rims of her ears, plunging it deep inside. Through the roaring echoing of his breathing she heard him tell her to roll over and she weakly complied. Her whole body seemed aflame in an explosion of throbbing senses... her tortured nerves screamed out! She couldn't take anymore! She was going mad!
And then she felt his tongue dart across the tips of her nipples, sending jolting shock after shock through her, and then it was gone.
There it was again! She moaned as his tongue moved tantalizingly across her belly... into the soft curled mound of pubic hair between her legs.
His lips probed and explored until he found the erect, pulsing button of her clitoris. He heard her cry out in agonized pleasure as he took the tiny pulsating bud between his teeth and holding it tightly, ran his tongue around and around in ever decreasing circles, until, at last, he opened his mouth wider and moved his tongue downward. Down the smooth, moistened slit to the heated, throbbing opening of her vagina.
With his head buried in the hot muskiness of her loins, Bill couldn't see her, but he could feel her head rolling from side to side as he tongued her, and he could hear her whimpering mewling sighs each time he swirled it around the velvet inside of the soft hairlined lips before his eyes. He drew her legs up and then slid his arms under them so that his shoulders and arms were wedged between her thighs.
He slipped his hands beneath her thighs and pushed them further up until they draped over his shoulders and then he shifted his hands under her quivering buttocks and pulled them up toward him brutally.
Sara's cry of pleasure filled the small room as she felt him plunge his tongue deep into the liquid depths between her legs. She reached jerkily for him and buried her hands in his hair, trying to push him further... further into her.
Aaaahhhhaaaaaaa! Aaahhaaaa! "Please... Darling... please! I want you! I want you inside of me!... Please! aahhhhhhih... I want you to fuck me!... now... NOW!
She twisted his hair, pulling him violently upward. She saw the thin film of creamy moisture around his mouth as she pulled him to her-and her hands shook tremulously as she moved her lips to his, licking the wetness from them. "Please, darling... she gasped... I want to feel you in me! Please hurry!"
Her words had excited him to frenzied, blinding passion, and as he reached frantically for the belt of his smoking jacket he felt her hands tearing at the waist of his trousers. He threw the coat from him just as she pulled his zipper all the way down and snapped the button loose from his pants. She yanked them from his legs, and her hands scrabbled for his shorts. He heard them rip as she pulled them from him, and then she pushed him back flat on his back.
His throbbing penis, sprung free from the shorts, stood pointing upward and swollen to immense dimensions. And, as she crawled frantically back up from his feet, he felt her lips surround it... her teeth bite him viciously, as she laved the thick fluid that oozed from its blood-filled head. Then, as quickly as her lips had enveloped him, they left him... and she moved further up to straddle him with her legs spread out on either side of his body.
With both hands grasping his huge, pulsating penis, she raised her hips... and then parting the slit between her legs with its tip... she dropped back down onto him... swallowing him in the boiling urgency of her cunt!
"Aaarrrgghh!" he cried in pain, the swollen head of his cock ramming deep into the hardness of her cervix as she dropped heavily onto him. And then, the sudden agony was replaced by unimaginable desire as he felt the smooth, wet walls of her pussy throbbing heatedly around him, her body squirming salaciously out of control.
He tried to meet the driving rhythm of Sara's hips as she furiously rode him like a bare-backed Brahma bull... but she was completely out of control... frantic!... with no defined rhythm... and there was no way he could match her. He lay back, his hands slapping the rug at his sides, his mind whirling in rising planes of ecstasy.
Her hips writhed uncontrollably now, rising and falling... rotating in great, huge circles against his straining loins... her breasts and belly grinding against him when she leaned forward.
Like a glistening, golden goddess she rode him until suddenly she felt it rising deep inside her. The licking tongues of flaming lust that had to be quenched, drowned in the hot, swirling liquid of orgasm she could feel boiling inside her passion wracked body!
Bill, beneath her, had found the rhythm of her churning hips, and met each downward thrust with driving power that matched her own-burying himself deeper and deeper up into her belly until they had become blended into one great burning furnace of passion.
Blinding flashes of light exploded in her brain as she felt the whole of her trembling, quivering belly erupt like a thousand small volcanos around the thick, driving shaft of flesh plunging to the very center of her senses... and, simultaneously she heard a harsh, guttural cry beneath her and felt a torrential, jerking flood of thick, spurting sperm raging far up into her... a fiery, rapid-running river of heat.
Her cries... "I'm cumming! Darling, I'm cuuummmmmmming!" were drowned by the fleshy sounds of their bodies slapping wildly together and the musky scent of climactic orgasm mixed obscenely with the animal odor of male and female sweat.
CHAPTER THREE
Though it wasn't even eleven in the morning yet, the heat blowing in from the valley made the house almost unbearable. Usually, cooling breezes from the harbor protected the small town of Monterey from the scorching temperatures of the Salinas Valley, but for the last two days there had been no landward winds from the Pacific, and the temperatures in Monterey had ranged relentlessly in the low hundreds.
Sara sat in the sweltering heat, feeling the perspiration trickle down her back, and waited for Jill Adams to pick her up.
It was Tuesday... Bridge Day.
Her skin prickled in dread as she wondered how she would be able to face Abby Baines.
In the three days that Bill had been home Sara had been unable to tell him of her predicament with his boss' wife... unable to bring herself to ruin his elation over his promotion. Those three days had been a nightmare for her, not the many times they made love, but all the times that Bill had held her and talked tenderly of the future.
His joy had been so complete. He had raved happily about how he would never have to leave her alone again, the child they could now afford to have, and how lucky he was to have a wife that had stood by him without complaint when he had taken a job that had kept them apart so much. Sara had wanted to cry out that she hadn't stood by him, that she had probably ruined his future-but something had always stopped her, perhaps the faint hope that she would be able to reason with Abby.
She'd kept telling herself that Abby would have to understand... somehow or another, Sara would find a way to pay her back... perhaps she might even start winning as Abby had said and then there wouldn't be any problem at all.
But now, as she sat waiting for her ride, her fears had returned in full force. What if Abby went ahead with her threat? What would happen to her marriage?
Her mind raced in frantic circles. There must be some way! There had to be! She wouldn't go to the bridge club!
No, she had to! She remembered Abby's last words, and knew that if she didn't show up, even with some excuse, that that might be the one thing that would force Abby to tell her husband, Bill's boss, everything.
Even the screwdriver she was drinking, orange juice liberally laced with vodka, hadn't calmed her at all, and she almost dropped the glass as the morning stillness was shattered by the doorbell.
She rose shakily and went to greet Jill at the front door.
Earlier that morning, Abby Baines and Jill Adams had been talking, and if Sara had been able to overhear that conversation.
"I think we have our little lady exactly where we want her," the older woman said contemptuously. "It's time to lead our little lamb to slaughter." Jill nodded, and asked:. "Are you sure she'll come today? What if she isn't there when I go to pick her up?"
"Don't worry... if you'd seen the expression on her face the other day when I threatened to ruin her precious husband's career! She'll be there! All we have to do is make sure she loses again today. Our signals appear to be working very well, just don't slip up."
"How are you going to get her to join us?... What if she decides to go to the police?" Jill asked, as she lit another cigarette.
"Don't worry. That little brat doesn't have the nerve... besides, I didn't know how badly we had her hooked until she told me her tender plans for the future last week. That pitiful little child provided me with all the ammunition I'll ever need," Abby said scornfully. "Oh yes, and to top it off- Winston told me that he had promoted Bill Donovan to sales manager- and Sara would never do anything to jeopardize that!" She chuckled, as she added: "She's fallen right into our lap... and I know several men who will make her very profitable for us!"
A short-lived moment of sympathy for Sara passed through Jill's mind, but was replaced quickly by jealous satisfaction when she remembered her envious dislike for the too-beautiful girl. Too many times she had seen the covetous glances of her husband and the other men when they were confronted with Sara's breathtaking loveliness. Well, she'd show them! Their little goddess would be nothing more than a whore, no better than the rest of them! She might even tell Dick, her husband! She'd like to see the expression on his face after the many times he'd thrown Sara's refinement and delicateness in her face.
She'd like to see Dick grab that little bitch and really throw it to her while she stood by watching.
Jill's invidious thoughts were interrupted by the realization that Abby was trying to speak to her. "Jill, are you listening? I said it's time for you to pick up Sara. And be as nice as you possibly can. I've found the shock treatment to be best-and she'll certainly get that before the afternoon is over!" Jill stood, remembering that the shock treatment certainly was best. At least, it had worked very well on her when Abby had suddenly confronted her several months ago on that horrible afternoon. "Oh, and Jill, stay after the others have left, I want to talk to you about the money you owe me."
Well, she had stayed alright and Abby had already arranged for several of her male clients to be there. And... she had paid back most of it in that one afternoon and the other afternoons that followed although now she was almost right back where she had started with her heavy betting and all. It had turned out to be one never ending circle -gamble... whore awhile... gamble... whore awhile... and she knew, beyond all shadow of a doubt that Abby now had the young innocent Sara ensnared in it too.
It was only a question of hours now.
Sara stepped hesitantly into the living room, murmuring a quiet hello to Marie who met her at the door. Most of the others were already there, but she couldn't see Abby anywhere.
The three bridge tables were already set, and trays laden with sandwiches and iced tea were close by.
Sara panicked. She wanted to run away from that horrible woman, but her feet felt rooted to the floor. The screwdrivers she had drunk earlier had worn off in the heat of the drive over with Jill, and left her with a minor, but insistent headache. Glancing nervously about for Abby, she made herself a strong vodka and grapefruit juice-mixing the two almost half and half.
She stood to the side of the other women and hurriedly gulped it down and moved to mix another as she heard Abby call cheerfully from the kitchen that she'd be right in.
Her nervousness at another encounter with Abby had dulled her other senses and she barely tasted the sharpness of her drink as she swallowed it.
The kitchen door swung open, and Sara felt a sudden chill streak down her back as Abby walked in with another tray.
Sara panicked. She wanted to run away from that horrible woman, but her feet felt rooted to the carpet. Abby passed close by her as she set the tray down on a table nearby. "Abby... I... I... "
"Oh, Sara... how are you?" Abby said cheerfully. And then, she quietly added: "Don't worry about anything, Honey-we'll talk about it later. We can work something out.
Today's going to be your lucky day!"
Whereas before, Sara had been drinking to fill the void left by the fear of what Abby might say- now, as the games continued, she drank in happiness. She felt as if a huge, terrible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Abby was being so nice, so cordial to her that the other afternoon had faded away like a bad childhood dream.
Even the fact that she was losing again lost its importance as she sipped another drink and thought about how wonderfully everything had turned out.
Perhaps, if her mind hadn't been numbed by the alcohol or by the unfounded sense of well-being, she might have been aware of the satisfied gleam that appeared in Abby's eyes whenever she turned to look at Sara. As it was, she only smiled happily whenever the older woman patted her on the shoulder or offered small words of encouragement.
It was only when they were putting away the cards after the last game and Abby asked her to stay for a moment that Sara felt a warning red light flash in her mind. That was silly, Abby had been so nice all afternoon. She probably just wanted to tell her again not to worry, or maybe, just to talk to her about an easy way that she would be able to arrange to pay back the money she'd borrowed.
The door closed as the last of the others left. Except Jill. Sara had seen her disappear down one of the hallways a moment ago.
"Sara, why don't you make yourself a drink in the den? I'll be right in."
A drink. That's what she needed. Sara walked a little unsteadily into the den and to the bar. It was so strange, she thought as she mixed herself a vodka on the rocks. Just a few hours ago I would have sworn I would never come into this room again. The memory of the week before had been too painful.
She settled back onto the couch, the warmth of the straight vodka and the reflection of how well things had turned out spreading its cheerful glow through her body.
She turned at the sound of someone entering the room, expecting to see Abby, but finding Jill instead. "Oh, Jill, come in and have a drink with me -I'm just waiting for Abby."
Jill smiled, a little strangely, Sara thought, and took Sara's outstretched glass. "Just a little vodka with ice, please."
Jill handed her her new drink and sat in one of the large armchairs across from her. Sara started to comment on one of the hands where she and her partner had lost so much to Jill and Abby when they were joined by the other woman.
"Oh, Abby, I was just going to ask Jill how you and she always seemed to..." She stopped suddenly, because Abby's face, like a chameleon's color, had changed again.
Her cheerful pleasantness had been replaced by the look that Sara knew so well... The hard coldness that had frozen her face in down-turned creases last week.
"Eight-hundred and seventy dollars!" The harshness of her voice, and the ringing clarity of those few words hung leadenly in the stillness of the room.
"As of today, Sara, that's what you owe me. Eight-hundred and seventy dollars! Do you have it!"
Trying to catch her breath, the young girl whispered: "Abby... I... I told you I couldn't.
Abby, please... not here... not in front of Jill!" The woman laughed sharply, glancing at Jill. "Jill, you don't mind, do you?" She chuckled again. "As a matter of fact, Jill told me she'd enjoy sitting in on our little conversation... didn't you, Jill?"
The other woman shifted a little under Abby's direct stare, and murmured; "Yes, Abby," and then, with her voice a little stronger, she added; "I don't mind at all... it should be very interesting."
Sara's mind recoiled in confusion. She kept looking from Abby to Jill, and then back again.
It couldn't be! What was happening! Jill was her best friend! And Abby! Abby had been so nice to her today!
"I gather, then, that you don't have the money. Just exactly what do you plan to do about it?" Abby asked sarcastically. "Perhaps, rather than go through all this trivial bickering, I should just go straight to Winston and have him stop Bill's salary.
I'm sure your husband would be more than happy to straighten out the whole matter!"
"No!... No, Abby!... please" Sara broke into great wracking sobs. "Abby, you can't!
please, you can't!... I'll do anything... anything! I'll find a way... somehow... to pay you back. I swear! I promise I'll do anything if you just won't hurt Bill!... "
Jill was leaning forward, a satisfied smirk on her face as she watched the tormented young blonde grovel before the self-righteousness of Abby Baines.
A sadistic mask of pleasure covered Abby's face as she moved toward Sara and, in a change of tone, soothingly continued: "There is a way, Sara."
"Wha... what did you say. Oh, Abby... anything you want... " the girl cried hysterically.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Your Bill is no different than the husbands of the other girls in the bridge club. Away all the time, with no regard to the needs or wants of a mature woman. We've all had to put up with it... the lonely nights... the insatiable hunger for a man who's never there."
Sara looked up, her face streaked with tear-stained mascara-she couldn't comprehend what Abby was saying... something about Bill being away... lonely nights.
"... finally, we found a way," Abby continued, "Our husbands away, playing with every cheap tramp they could find on so-called business trips! Why not us? Why did we have to sit at home alone, dreading the loneliness of another empty night? Our husbands' business and social acquaintances had given us enough chances... enough lonely men to share our emptiness ..
"You mean... you... all of you, meet these men and... " Sara's mind whirled as the full meaning of what Abby was saying penetrated her grief-enshrouded thoughts. "But... how does that... what do you want me to do?.
"Sara, dear-I said we'd found a way. We satisfy these poor bastards-and ourselves too, But we don't do it for nothing! You've seen those men come in while we've been playing bridge and wait here in the den. You don't really think they were waiting for Winston, do you? And, several have asked for you.
Sara remembered her curiosity at the flow of men, all prosperous and business-like, that had interrupted their games from time to time, had stood around, and then gone into the den-but she'd always been satisfied by Abby's explanation that they were only waiting for her husband. She'd even been flattered by their obvious attention to her... but she'd never even dreamed that... it couldn't be true! It was just a horrible joke that Abby was playing on her. She couldn't... she'd never be able to bring herself to.
"Sara! Snap out of it! I want you to listen to me! You wanted a way out. I'm giving it to you!
These men pay well, and whatever you make I'll deduct from your debt."
Sara got up and walked slowly over to the bar... anything to stall... to give her time to think. Her hands were trembling as she added some ice to her glass and filled it to the top with vodka.
Abby! and Jill! All of them! Prostitutes! She couldn't believe it! All this time she'd wanted so much to be accepted into their exclusive little social circle. It was exclusive all right!
Abby walked over to join her at the bar and poured a glass of water. Sara flinched at the touch of the older woman's hand as she handed her a couple of small white pills, but Abby seemed not to notice. "Here, Dear, a couple of these aspirin will make you feel better."
Jill watched the two of them from her chair and saw Sara swallow the pills without hesitation, as though she were in a trance. A voice in Jill's brain kept screaming to Sara; 'Don't take those pills!' but no sound came from her lips. In spite of her envy of the beautiful young girl some twinge of kindness inside her urged her to interfere, but Jill knew it would do no good.
It was too late now with the debt and the pills already swallowed.
Although Sara might not know it yet, Abby had her exactly where she wanted her-and whatever little resistance remained those pills would soon take care of. As Jill watched, it became increasingly clear how she, herself, had been ensnared by the heartless Abby Baines. The same strategy, the kindness, the ruthlessness, the liquor and the "aspirin"- and before Jill had really known what was happening she was too deeply involved to ever get out. And... Abby had taken photographs of the entire thing.
Meanwhile, back at the bar, Abby's thoughts were very similar. She chuckled inwardly as she watched the tension seem to drain from the voluptuous young girl's tensed shoulders and knew her plan was working. Sara Donovan was hers, or soon would be-and the lovely young blonde was her greatest triumph yet.
She stood there, admiring the flawless beauty of her latest acquisition, like a triumphant white hunter posing above the fallen form of a majestic lioness-or even more so, like a hovering spectre with a net, gloating over the capture of a rare and delicate butterfly. But, even then, the pleasure of her conquest was marred by her intense hatred for anyone as beautiful as Sara Donovan. She had once been as lovely as the younger girl, had known the reverent admiration of every man who saw her, but the passing years had erased this-leaving only a cold, faded shell-an old and cracked canvas that was once a magnificent painting. Her hatred for Time and its destruction was fanned into fiercely burning flames each time she was reminded of her past beauty by a young and lovely girl.
And this hatred was matched only by the loathing she felt for every man who no longer wanted her-but desired what she had been.
The only thing that made Abby Baines happy was this extraordinarily successful ring of prostitution she, she and Dr. MacMasters, had brought into being. She felt immense satisfaction in her power over the younger women, the ability to force them to obey her sadistic desires-and the men, the poor stupid men, who had to come to her for what they wanted. She felt like a great Puppet Master, pulling the strings and watching the little figures dance spasmodically to her bidding.
While the older woman had stood there at the bar, reveling in her success, Sara had walked un- steadily back to the couch. She no longer felt any awareness of what was happening to her, only a great lassitude that had slowly spread through her body... A soft, mist-like trance that deadened her troubled senses and made her feel warm and languorously sensual. There were no thoughts of right or wrong, only the tender sensitivity of her skin as she stretched half-sitting on the couch and felt the roughness of the upholstery against the backs of her legs.
She was only vaguely aware of the other two people in the room, and though she knew Abby had just spoken to her she couldn't assimilate the words and felt no desire to answer.
She thought she heard Abby leave the room, and then return, but she wasn't sure. Time had no meaning... neither did the soft opening and closing of the door. Then it seemed as if there were other voices in the room, deeper voices... but the didn't matter-all that mattered was the caressing touch of the rough, jacquelard cloth against her skin... her thighs... and... a strange sensuous flicker that rippled momentarily through her belly.
The four of them stood watching quietly. Abby, Jill and the two men. The late afternoon sun streaming through the partially closed drapes cast thick shafts of light across the outstretched form on the couch.
Winston Baines and the other man, also in his fifties, stared intently at the young girl, watching her long shapely legs extend slowly and draw back as she ground them against the surface of the huge couch. As she pulled one leg up and then the other, her light summer dress slid further back, revealing the sleek goldeness of her curved thighs.
Jill Adams just stood drinking slowly, but Abby watched her husband and the other man with a contemptuous smile. Those animals! They'd have their fun, and so would she!
She'd watch them rutting like wild stags-her husband the worst of them all. Winston.
Hah!, that worthless runt! She'd married him for his money... and she'd get it. All of it!
When she left him he wouldn't have a dime, and then we'll see who laughs. That bastard!
Winston Baines had come home unexpectedly one afternoon and found one of the girls entertaining a client and Abby watching. It hadn't taken him long to get the truth out of her, using his strength to wring it painfully from her. But, instead of stopping her, or ruining her operation, he had made her continue-considering it his right to sample any of the girls whenever he felt like it. As a matter of fact, he'd even increased her business by bringing her more and more men. She laughed. I wonder how he explains to his new-found associates that his wife is running a clandestine house of pleasure. Soon, however, she'd get her revenge. Her business was proving to be extremely profitable, and with that money and what she got when she cleaned Winston out would be enough to keep her in luxury and entertainment for the rest of her life.
She thought of Sara, and how excited Winston had been when she had told him that today was the day he could finally throw it to her almost virginal young body. That fat little son of a bitch had almost drooled!
She walked over to the bar to pour herself a cognac, and as she looked back into the room, she decided it was time to provide a little entertainment. Her husband and that Joe-whatever-his-name-was might as well get their money's worth.
"Jill, Darling... why don't you make yourself a little more comfortable? And do the same for Sara. Winston, you and Joe have a seat, while I warm up the camera."
Jill led the other man to one of the velvet armchairs and, as Abby turned the music up, began a slow and almost Tahitian dance before him. Winston, in the other chair tore his eyes from the reclining, half-conscious form of Sara to watch the sensual movements of the tall, slender brunette.
If Jill hated Abby intensely, it didn't show in her work. She loved men, all men-and being trapped into working for Abby Baines provided her with enough men to satisfy her insatiable desires. She was a statuesque, beautifully shaped girl with shoulder length ebony hair, and she moved with the animal grace of a stalking black panther.
As she danced, her hands slowly unfastened the silk blouse tied beneath her full breasts.
Untied, there were only two buttons remaining, and her deft fingers quickly released these.
She tossed the blouse from her and without slowing unhooked the black brassiere that cupped her breasts, and it too landed somewhere behind her. Now, her curved fingers replaced her bra and as her hips swung in gentle undulations, her hands cupped and lifted her breasts-caressing them sensuously as she worked herself into a slow state of excitement.
Her hands dropped to the zipper at the side of her Spanish-type slacks, skin tight to the calves and then flaring out to wide bell bottoms-slit ac the ankles and embroidered in gold down the side. She danced lasciviously in front of the lust-stricken men, her black hair swirling in great sweeping arcs and then she slowly knelt to her knees in front of Joe. His eyes glazed over with passion as she leaned backward, arms outflung, her back arched as her full, creamy white breasts pointed firmly upward.
Then she slid softly toward him, bringing her feet up to rest on the edge of his chair. She lay back, purring to him to help her remove her slacks. His hands trembling, he reached downward and pulled them toward him. They slithered past the black triangle of tiny black bikini panties and up the full curves of her straining legs.
He wanted to keep her there, but with her legs free of the tight slacks she curled to her feet like a rising cobra, swaying before him. She moved, pausing to kiss Winston briefly, to the couch and knelt again beside Sara.
Sara had been lying there, as if in a wild erotic dream, hearing the strange rhythmic music and running her sharp fingertips up and down the softness of her thighs. Now, in the warming glow of the drug, she felt other hands on her, removing her shoes and sliding lightly up the sensitive skin of her legs.
Everyone's eyes were focused intently on the two of them. One girl dark and exotic and the other, a blend of fight and golden innocence.
Jill's hands moved slowly up her body, across the flare of her hips and up to the row of buttons at the neck of her dress. Sara barely felt them, though she could feel the soft, caressing movement downward as her dress opened. Jill paused to undo the belt and then completely unbuttoned the light summer dress. She reached to pull it from Sara's shoulders and felt the semi-conscious girl raise her shoulders to help her. Finally, after moments of gentle tugging she had the dress over the girl's arched hips and in one movement pulled it from her legs and tossed it behind the couch.
The two men were mesmerized by the breathtaking loveliness of the young blonde as she lay clothed only in a flimsy lace set of white silk underwear. Her sleek, firm body was an entrancing combination of reversing golden curved lines... rising and arching contours of her swelling breasts and thighs... and then falling into the gentle concavity of her soft, white belly.
Jill's, probing fingers unfastened the hook beneath Sara's back and pulled the bra from her straining breasts. Released from their silken confinement, they seemed to swell and the erectile rubiness of her nipples tensed in the sudden rush of cool air.
Her hips raised to allow Jill to pull her panties from the full curve of her buttocks, and the men felt a sudden tightness constrict their throats as the voluptuous body of the young girl lay completely naked and helpless before them.
And suddenly, the man who had come with Abby's husband couldn't stand it any longer, and lurched forward from his chair, reaching for Jill. She came to him, easily pushing him back onto the floor, her hands tugging at his tie.
Abby, completely unnoticed in the background, watched in contempt as her husband struggled with his clothing. She laughed harshly at the awkward, clumsy little man. The camera she held in her hand clicked several times at the half-conscious form on the couch.
Frantic in his lust, Winston Baines was hopping from one foot to the other, trying to pull off his trousers. Finally, kicking them off his feet, he tore at his shirt and tie.
Sara squirmed on the couch, her erotic dream reaching for the gentle, caressing hands that had been touching her... the heat was building up in her drug-awakened body and her mind begged for the return of the soft mysterious fingers that had aroused her.
Then suddenly, through a haze of narcosis and desire, she felt someone grabbing at her, pawing animal-like at her tender flesh. Her eyes flickered open from the sudden pain and hurt and a moments consciousness returned to her drug dimmed mind. She strained her eyes to bring the shadowy form hovering over her into focus.
And then she saw!
It was Mr. Baines, Abby's husband and her own husband's boss! He was completely naked and a lust-crazed glint filled his eyes as they roamed down over her nude and helpless form. She jerked from the sudden obscene revelation of the hopeless position she was in but his hands held her tight to the couch, brutally twisting and pressing the soft flesh of her thighs and breasts. Her arms and legs flailed wildly in the air trying to escape the sudden pain and unexpected humiliation of another man, a man who knew her husband, leering down at her naked body. She tried to cry out, but only soft, whimpering moans came from her lips. Weakened by the drugs and liquor, she had no strength and her hands were helpless against the lewd assault on her nudity. Her eyes flickered closed again, soft whimpering groans of helpless indignation rolling from her open mouth, wet hungry lips fastened to a hardened nipple. She groaned again, helpless against the tortuous agony, flashes of blue and red filling her head as it turned hopelessly from side to side on the arm of the couch. The camera clicked on.
It wasn't real! Nothing was real! It just couldn't be happening! It was the devil doing those things to her, turning her churning body into the raging inferno it had become... Yes... it was the devil .. God, yes it was him!
A wiry, naked body pressed roughly down on top of her, its knees pressing hers outward and wide apart. The dream enveloped her like a fiery blanket of lust and passion. The hurting of the hands began to slowly subside, gradually being replaced by the slow burning passion rising again in her belly. Leaping tongues of flame spread throughout her lusting body... a sliver of hardened flesh pressed against the soft down of moist golden pubic hair between her wide-spread legs... Oh God! It was a man... a man and she wanted him! Momentarily, one last rational thought wracked her brain, Please, Abby, No!
Don't make me do it! Don't make me do it!
And then, the volcano smouldering deep in her belly erupted!
Whimpering moans of unleashed passion escaped her lips as she groped up desperately for the man's shoulders, trying frantically to pull him harder down on top of her. She kicked her legs out wide and drew her knees up tight against her own shoulders, eagerly arching her burning loins salaciously against the hardened cock lying now between the open crevice of her buttocks. She felt his hands stroking desperately against the soft inner flesh of her thighs, lewdly kneading the tender skin, until they reached the curve of her soft hair covered vagina. She spread her legs even further apart-to make it easier for him-she wanted to feel his fingers deep inside her.
Gone was the gentleness of Jill's hands-the man who had replaced her was handling her brutally and sadistically,-but this seemed to incite her passion even more. She wanted to be devoured by the clawing fingers, the rough beard that was tearing at the sensitive skin on her belly and breasts.
She cried out for him to come to her, to put his fingers in her. "Aaaahhhhhhh! yes!... Hold me!... Hurt me!"
And suddenly, without tenderness, he plunged his fingers into her hot, moistened pussy!
He would have hurt her terribly if she hadn't been so completely slippery inside with drug induced passion. And then, as quickly as he had probed so roughly into her, he withdrew his fingers. He had no thoughts of arousing or caressing her, he only wanted to know that she was ready for him.
The soft suction sound of his withdrawing fingers was drowned by their heaving, panting breath- even her pleading moan for him to stay there. Her desire and the pills had made a raving, sexual maniac out of her and when she felt him start to pull away her sharp, curved nails left great raw scratches down his shoulders and back.
But he wasn't leaving her. She felt him shift his weight... and then the stabbing pain as he plunged his eager, swollen cock hard between the opened lips of her hot, pulsating cunt.
"... Aaaarrgghhhh! More!... more!" This was what she had been waiting for! She wanted to feel him fill every aching pore of her body. "Deeper!... put it in deeper, my darling... Fill me with it!" Where was he? Why couldn't she feel any more of him? Where was he! Oh my God! He isn't big enough! "Please, deeper!... Deeper!"
"Oh Daddy, Fuck deeper, Fuck deeper!" She screamed at him in desperation. He grabbed her buttocks with his hands and drove his cock to the hilt.
It was too short!
She groaned in frustration, and as Abby snapped another picture, Sara splaying her legs as wide as possible to give him better access. But it didn't help!
As if in apology, the sweating little man rammed his tongue deep into her wide-open mouth. She sucked at it in wild frenzy, her body caught up in a whirlpool of raw passion she had never known before. He jerked and thrusted into her mercilessly bringing gasps of pain and frustration as he thudded into her arching hips. She moaned helplessly, he was bringing her to a climactic peak with the brutal pounding of his body alone.
Then-suddenly as she writhed uncontrollably beneath him, he came. And she could feel him stiffen as he spurted jet after jet of his white-hot sperm deep up into the hidden recesses of her tortured womb.
She cried out in frustration.
It was too soon, too soon!
She had been almost there! She strained crazily for it, but the man's dead weight collapsed heavily across her still driving body. His useless, deflated penis hung limply between her churning thighs.
She buffeted her wet pelvis up against him angrily, tears of frustration running down her passion inflamed cheeks. But the softness of him gave away limply before her last anguished upward thrusts. He rolled from her body, breathing heavily in satiation.
The roaring fire continued to rage on in her body. Oh God! she sobbed, the hunger coursing through her like a narcotic. I'm going crazy, crazy! I need it! I need it!
Sara lay there moaning aloud, and finally her cries caught the attention of Abby and Jill.
Abby had been standing by the bar all this time watching the erotic happenings in the room, watching Jill excite Joe almost beyond belief before she finally let him have her. It had taken only moments before he had let out a heaving, gasping sigh and rolled over and collapsed on the floor beside the tall sensual brunette. But Abby had been most amused by the pitiful efforts of her husband trying to satiate the drug-hungering lust of the young, voluptuous Sara. She knew well the effects of the drug that Dr. MacMasters had created and she didn't believe there was one man in the world who, alone, could satisfy the wanton desires of a woman who had taken it... especially in the quantity she had given Sara.
Winston had slid from the couch onto the floor and still sat in an exhausted stupor, but Joe was beginning to revive and Abby could see between his legs the effect that Sara's cries were having on him.
The tortured young blonde still lay writhing uncontrollably on the couch, her pleas for satisfaction echoing hoarsely in the room. Her own hands probed ineffectually between her open legs.
As her cries increasingly excited Joe, Abby could see that he was considerably more endowed than her husband, as huge as any man she had ever seen. She called out to him softly, a lascivious grin on her face. "Joe, do you think there's any way you would be able to help the hot little bitch?"
He smiled lewdly in assent, nodding as his eyes roamed over the straining voluptuousness of the girl on the couch as Abby readied the camera again.
"Jill, help Joe move Sara onto the floor where there's more room. I'm sure the two of you together will be able to make her feel better."
Jill hesitated at Abby's words. Although there had been many strange requests since she had begun working for the older woman-she had even become used to making love to several men one after another before an audience-Abby's command for her to go to Sara made her uneasy. "Come, Jill. Joe may need your help."
Sara's pain, the ache of unfulfilled desire, was driving her almost insane when suddenly she felt the touch of someone's hands, lifting her... holding her.
"Oh yes... yes... please hurry! I need it... please... Now!
The two of them laid her gently on the thick carpet, spreading her arms and legs. For Joe, there was no need for hesitation, and without waiting he plunged the long thickness of his throbbing cock deep into her waiting cunt.
Jill lay beside the two of them, caressing the swollen nipples of the girl's heaving breasts.
Then, with one hand she reached between Joe's legs to grasp the hot slipperiness of his plunging penis. The heat and thickness of it as it pounded furiously in and out of the young girl's cunt aroused a welling of flaming desire in the brunettes loins, and she began to run her finger in alongside the driving shaft of flesh... feeling it slide hotly back and forth against the length of her probing finger.
Sara's punished body was lifting and jerking completely out of control now and her cries of ecstatic pleasure were coming in great explosive gasps.
Jill carefully moved her hand around until she was able to withdraw her finger and put her thumb in its place; then with her free forefinger she began to edge her way down between the crease of Sara's buttocks until she felt the tiny raised circle of her anus. The girl's hips squirmed wildly at the touch of Jill's finger, as if afraid of what she was going to do.
Very gently, Jill began to slowly insert the tip of her finger into the tight opening... probing almost imperceptibly deeper and deeper into the velvet warmth of the tiny, rubbery orifice.
Soon, through the thin wall of hot flesh separating Sara's cunt and rectum she was able to feel the urgent thrusting of Joe's cock driving against the pressing contact of her thumb . .
.
At the first touch of someone's finger delving into the tender softness of her anus, Sara had felt a scream building up in her throat... but it was being done so gently... so very gently, that instead of pain, she began to experience a strange erotic sensation of pleasure-increasing with the probing depth of the unknown finger into a forbidden center of her body.
She could feel a driving cock deep... so deep inside her-and beneath the driving hugeness of him she felt something else... a feathery tickling... a turning pressure that ground against the finger in her anus... rubbing... gripping like a great hook that had trapped her... trapped her in the fiery center of her senses.
She threw her legs high up over the man's shoulders plunging into her... flailing... trying to keep from falling... groping with her hands for his pistoning buttocks... she felt as if she were falling, tumbling end over end into a great dark shaft into the very depths of a swirling, hot hell.
Blinding bursts of lights kept passing before her eyes as if she were spinning completely out of control... free-falling... with nothing to hold on to... no way to catch herself. It was so dark... so black... she couldn't see! And then, in the whirling darkness... a huge spinning tunnel going straight down... she saw a tiny pinprick of light coming closer... larger... Larger!... an opening! She was Free!.
Sara screamed, again and again. Completely out of control, she came so violently-so wildly!... her body jerking and thrashing in furious, pulsating spasms... her hot breath coming in great heaving gasps.
And then it was over.
The heavy stillness in the room was interrupted only by the soft sighs and labored breathing of a young blonde girl who lay sprawled and unconscious, on the carpeted floor.
Small trickles of sweat rolled from her still spread-eagled body as it lay obscenely as they had left it. A lewd chuckle resounded from the smirk-lined lips of the older women who stood glaring down at her battered form.
"When I get through with her," she cackled gleefully, "she'll be able to satisfy half the town with that proud little pussy of hers-including her smart-ass husband once or twice a day.
He might even get his rocks off from the pictures I've got of his sweet, innocent little wife in action."
She laughed again and kneeling on the floor between Sara's limply spread legs snapped one final picture of her sperm covered crotch that gave mute testimony to the depraved ordeal the girl had just been subjected to.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sara lay back huddled under the covers of her bed. The usually soft muslin sheets felt course against her skin. It had been several days since the horrible experience had taken place after the bridge club meeting and her nerves were still in a state of shock. Bill had come home from his business trip one day after that fateful afternoon and it had been all she could do to hold her emotions together and not give away the fact that she was on the point of a complete mental breakdown. But, she had held up as best she could and even performed her conjugal duties in bed with her husband as though nothing had happened.
It had taken a great deal of self control and all the strength she could muster though to keep from screaming out in tortured remembrance each time his sperm had erupted inside her because even though she was tailing the pill she still had the horrible fear of becoming pregnant by Mr. Baines and the other man who planted their seed deep in her unwilling belly. She had been taking four or five showers a day since that time in a vain attempt to wash away the memory and perhaps cleanse her flesh of their lewd use of her body... but it had not worked. She still felt soiled and used and knew deep inside her that nothing would ever wash away the filth and disgust with which she viewed herself after allowing herself to get into the position where she had had no choice but be unfaithful to her husband. Thank God, Abby had only called once since that time and that had been a curt and cold conversation in which she had made it quite clear that she never intended under any circumstances to return to the bridge club or see Abby again for that matter. In a few days, after she had regained some of her composure, she would just explain the whole thing to Bill, at least the debt part, and ask him to leave the company. Certainly a bright young man like himself could get another job just as easily somewhere else. He would just have to. She could not under any circumstances face any of those women again. Not now after what she had done and after what most of them had done also. It just couldn't be. She had been shamed and humiliated enough as it was and nothing was worth going through all that again. Nothing, not even Bill finding out about her gambling debts. She knew that Abby would never dare tell him anything else and even if she did she would deny it. It would be her word against Abby's and the whole thing was so unbelievable and preposterous that she herself still had difficulty in realizing it had happened. So, how could anyone else, particularly Bill. He loved and trusted her as much as she did him and would certainly take her word over that of another woman.
She had thought about many things in the last few days, suicide, telling Bill everything that had happened and a thousand other ridiculous things. But, none of them had made any sense. All of them would only have hurt Bill and she loved him too much to do that. This would have to be her own cross to bear alone and without any help from anyone.
One thing did bother her and had kept eating at her mind since the phone call from Abby.
Her parting words had been; "We'll see, my dear. We'll see," When Sara had told her off over the phone and had made it quite clear that she never wanted to see her again.
Somehow it had kept running through her thoughts even though she had tried to dismiss it as just an idle threat. After all, there was nothing more she could do to her that she hadn't already done.
Sara finally rose from the bed and walked out to the kitchen to prepare herself a cup of coffee. Bill, the darling, sensing that she wasn't feeling well hadn't bothered to awaken her when he had left for the office earlier that morning and now it was almost ten o'clock. She had to hurry and get dressed to make that beauty appointment she had arranged. The thought suddenly reminded her what day it was and then her face beamed in happiness.
It was their second wedding anniversary!
Bill had coyly hinted that they might have a celebration tonight but he hadn't said why. He had just reminded her yesterday to get herself all prettied up for a wild evening on the town, and then he had slyly added; "and in the sack." She smiled to herself and was halfway back to the bedroom with her cup of coffee in her hand when the shrill ring of the telephone interrupted her thoughts.
"Oh Damn," she muttered half aloud. "I hope it isn't one of those sales pitches that have been making my life miserable lately." She and Bill had planned to have their listing removed from the new telephone directory to avoid this but somehow had forgotten it until it was too late and now they made her days miserable with their continuous calls throughout the whole day.
"Hello, Donovan residence," she answered tiredly.
"Hi, sweetheart," she heard Bill's voice on the other end of the line and the half-hearted frown immediately disappeared from her face.
"Oh Darling, I'm so happy its you," she beamed from ear to ear. "I thought it was another of those telephone salesmen."
"No, dear," he answered warmly. "Just wanted to put you on the alert. The bosses wife called and asked why you hadn't been at the bridge game yesterday and I told her you had been sick."
Sara's hand froze to the phone.
"Y-You mean Abby Baines?" she said, her voice almost a whisper.
"Why yes, darling. You sound surprised. Is anything wrong?"
Sara braced herself against the wall, clenching her eyes tightly shut in silent prayer.
"N-No, nothings w-wrong," she lied. "W-What did she say?"
"Oh, you know how nice she is, honey. She understood perfectly. In fact, when I told her it was our anniversary she said she was going to bring you over something special sometime this morning. I just called to make certain you hadn't overslept and would have time to freshen up a bit. She should be there any moment."
Sara's mouth went dry at the revelation of Abby's impending visit and she could feel her head swirling in a near faint.
"Sara!" Bill's voice said with concern when there was no answer from his wife. "Are you alright, darling?"
"Y-Yes, dear. I'm alright." She forced herself to answer in spite of the weakness rippling through her body. "I-I'll be ready for her."
"That's a good girl," Bill answered with a touch of relief in his voice. "Remember she's the bosses wife and we can't blow this chance we've got to really make it big. So be especially nice to her."
"Bill.
"Yes, darling."
"Oh n-nothing. I-I'll see you tonight."
She hung up the phone and staggered to the couch, her eyes flooded with tears of indecision and frustration. She wanted to say something to Bill, to tell him that she was in some awful trouble, but she couldn't. It just wasn't the time or place.
Oh God, what could she do? What could she do? She sat on the couch for a moment, her face cupped tightly in her hands. Then she rose and walked swiftly to the kitchen.
God, she needed a drink.
She poured herself almost a full glass of vodka and splashed a dash of orange juice in it and drank it straight down. Then again. The soothing hot liquid burned all the way down to her empty stomach. She poured another full glass and returned to the living room. She had to sit down and think. Think about what she would say to Abby when she met her face to face. She had been able to muster the courage over the telephone to tell her off, but would she be able to do it in person. Abby was the kind that exuded strength. It was almost impossible to fight with her and win when she really wanted something. She had spent too many years bending the lives of other people not to be a master at it. Well, she would just have to show her courage and let her know right off the bat that she could not be bullied again. The alcohol was beginning to have its effect now and had soothed her tattered nerves sufficiently to build her confidence to the point where she thought she could do it.
She downed the remaining drink in her glass and started for the kitchen to refill it when her feet suddenly froze to the floor.
The front doorbell was ringing!
She did not move. It rang again. She reflexively pulled her dressing gown over her nakedness and walked trance-like to the door. She opened it hesitantly and outside stood Abby.
"Well, aren't you going to invite me in, dear," she smiled when she saw the resistance in Sara's eyes.
"Y-Yes, but just for a moment. I-I have a lot to do."
"Yes, dear, you have a lot more to do today than you realize," Abby said coldly as she pushed herself by Sara and entered the living room. "Yes, my dear, a lot more than you realize. I had two men lined up for you yesterday afternoon and they were willing to spend a great deal. Your little pride has cost me a good sum of money and I intend to see that you make it up."
"W-What do you mean?" Sara answered, the anger rising in her voice. She had recovered slightly from the initial shock of seeing Abby again and the drinks had restored a little of her courage. "How dare you come into my home and say things like that to me. I don't care if your husband is Bill's boss. We can go somewhere else and live without your help."
Abby eyed her coldly for a moment from the couch where she had sat down and then spoke, her words cruel and unyielding.
"Listen you proud little bitch. You still owe me a lot of money. I've deducted fifty dollars for your masterful little performance the other afternoon but there is still a healthy balance remaining and I'm going to see you work it off or else. And... you can't tell me you didn't enjoy that little fucking they gave you. Here take a look."
With that Abby reached into her purse and drew out a large packet of black and white photographs and threw them to the floor in front of the still standing young wife.
"Now look at those and tell me you didn't get your rocks off!"
The distraught Sara stood riveted to the spot, she could not move and a cold fear of what she was about to see rippled through her trembling body.
"Get down on your knees and take a look!"
Abby commanded, a sneer replacing the icy tone in her voice. "Get down I said!"
Sara dropped to the floor. She had to know what this madwoman was raving about. Her trembling hands reached out and turned over the first photograph which was lying face down with the others.
Her heart jumped to her throat!
There right before her eyes was a large eight by ten inch picture of her lying on her back with a man between her widely spread legs. Her calves were locked in a death grip high up around his back and his great pole of flesh was sunk deep inside her plainly visible vagina. And her face... her face was a raging mask of carnal desire that showed without a doubt she was enjoying the lewd coupling with all her heart and soul.
"Oh God, Nooooo," she moaned, sinking limply to the rug. Great gushes of tears streamed from her eyes. It couldn't be true! It just couldn't be true!
"One would never know by looking at you that Bill Donovan's proud, innocent wife was such a hot little screw," she heard Abby cackle from the couch. Her voice seemed unreal and miles away. "Now go on and look at the others. They get even better."
Sara dazedly shuffled through them. Her sudden state of shock rendered her unable to think or act for herself and with each further picture passing before her dazed face the shock grew greater.
They were horrible.
She had never envisioned herself like that. A raging madwoman in a wild sexual frenzy who was almost tearing the men apart. And there was Jill there also doing those depraved despicable things to her. One photograph clearly showed her finger sunk far up Sara's rectum while the man, whoever he was, was plunging his giant fleshy cock into her like an animal. And... her face. Her face again was like nothing she had ever seen before. God, how had she enjoyed them doing all those despicable things to her? She had remembered so little of it later but now she saw it as it had really happened and the shame and humiliation of her reaction to it, even though she knew she had been drugged, brought further gushes of tears from her eyes.
Oh God, if Bill ever saw these he would never understand in a million years.
"Now, deary, do we understand each other?" Abby's sneering voice drifted across the distance. "You're nothing but a dirty little whore like the rest of them now! What would your trusting young husband think of that?"
"You wouldn't dare," Sara suddenly blurted out in horror at what Abby had intimated. "H-He would kill you!"
"You mean kill you don't you, dear?" Abby laughed aloud. "Those dirty pictures speak for themselves."
"He would never believe them," she hissed back. "He knows me better than that."
"Want to bet, dear?" Abby teased. And... Sara knew deep down in her heart that she was right. How could they be interpreted any other way than the way they were. It was plain and simple: she was getting fucked half to death and loving every minute of it and no one in their right mind could believe anything else. She hated the thought of the filthy word but there was no doubt about it, she was getting fucked and good too. No one could ever mistake that. Also... no one, even Bill, would believe these ostensibly respectable people would have drugged her into committing an act so obscene and depraved, particularly if she complained now almost a week since it had happened. There was just no hope... no hope at all. Abby had her and she knew it and the only out now was to do as she said until something else came up. Some kind of miracle that would extricate her from this awful mess.
"Now are you ready to get to work and pay off that debt you owe me?" Abby's voice again interrupted her tortured thoughts and she found her nodding in an unconscious daze, her eyes still tightly glued to the unbelievable pictures. She could not bear to look up at her face and the victorious smirk she knew would be there. All she could do was shake her head in assent and hope that what she demanded of her to pay back the money she owed would be bearable and leave her just a little of her pride. She had no other choice. If it were just her she would not hesitate to resist, but there was Bill She just couldn't hurt him this way, not after the way he worshiped and trusted her. She just couldn't.
"That's a good little girl," the older woman said with a dry smile of satisfaction lining her lips. "You're going to get your chance to prove your sincerity right now."
"W-What do y-you mean." Sara recoiled in horror from her statement. She had not expected this and not even had the chance to prepare herself mentally for the horrible things she was going to have to do to get out of this terrible mess she had gotten herself in.
"Just what I said, dear. I've got two customers waiting out in the car right now that have just been aching to get at that young innocent body of yours."
"Y-You mean they know me?" her voice quivered in revulsion.
"Certainly. They work for Bill at the company and have been watching that swishing little ass of yours tease them for months. They can hardly wait."
"No, No, I can't with someone that knows Bill! I-I just can't!"
"You'll do it, honey," she threatened menacingly. "Otherwise- I'll see he has a fresh copy of those photos on his desk this afternoon. How would that start off the anniversary celebration?"
"Oh Abby, NO! Not now, not today. Its too sacred a thing. I-I just can't on a day like this.
Please wait a few days anyway," she pleaded for time.
"Go tell it to your preacher," the older woman spat coldly. "I've got my money to worry about. Now go make yourself a drink and take these pills. They're Dr. McMasters and they'll put a little fire in your pussy. I think you're going to need it with that puritanical attitude you're carrying around."
Sara dropped her face into her hands and sobbed convulsively at the grim realization that Abby was determined to show her no mercy and would destroy her if necessary to collect the money she owed her.
"Alright, I'll do it for you, you sniveling little female. You can sit there and gamble on someone else's money all afternoon but when the time comes to pay the piper you lose your bravado." With this Abby disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few moments later with another vodka and orange juice. She stood over Sara's sobbing form contemptuously for a second and then thrust the glass down at her.
"Here, drink it. I've put the pills in it to make it easier for you this time but you had better get used to the idea of doing it on your own in the future!"
Sara groaned and lifelessly raised the glass to her lips as she saw Abby walk to the door and motion outside to the car parked in front of the house. There was no more fight left in her and all she hoped now was that the pills would do their evil work fast and transport her into the oblivion of not caring just as they had done last time. Otherwise... otherwise... she could just not go through with it... even for the love of Bill.
There was the sound of lewd, intimate laughter at the doorway and Abby was followed back into the living room by two men, both of which wore obscene grins of expectation on their faces. Sara's body jerked as she recognized them. One of them was a fat ruddy-faced salesman who Bill had been promoted over. She had been aware of his lewd appraising glances whenever he would be around her. In fact, he had even propositioned her in an ill-concealed manner at one of the company cocktail parties and she had been tempted to tell Bill about it but decided not to cause anymore friction than was necessary in his department. The other one was a shipping clerk, a huge strapping man, who worked on the outgoing orders in Bill's sales department. She remembered him only slightly as the man who had whistled cockily at her walk one day when she had gone down to tour the plant. She was frightened of both of them and prayed for the pill to work before they became too lewd with her helpless body. She couldn't stand to have them touch her if she was fully conscious and aware of what was going on.
"Whewwwww man, look at that!" the ruddy faced salesman suddenly whistled as he saw Sara sitting on the floor. She jumped from the sudden outcry and pulled her dressing gown up around her throat. She had forgotten she was half undressed and that the front had fallen open exposing half her nakedness to their searching eyes.
"Man, I always knew there was something worth fuckin' under those tightass dresses she's been running around in. No wonder Donovan comes to work so beat looking in the morning. I would too if I had a cute little piece o' tail like that at home."
Sara flushed at their lewd remarks and felt the anger rising in her at the callous mention of her husband like that. These men were nothing but filthy animals and so was Abby! She couldn't let them take her without a fight even though she knew she didn't stand much of a chance against their strength.
"Don't you dare touch me, any of you!" she suddenly hissed as she leaped to her feet. "I'm going to call my husband and he'll have all of you thrown in jail!"
"Baby, I wouldn't get so uppity if I were you. We seen those pictures and it looks like you really love a little strange cock now and then." Jack, the other man, leered at her.
"Yeh," the ruddy face man added. "And I bet smart ass Donovan don't even know about it."
Sara's eyes turned unbelieving to the smiling Abby who was enjoying her shame and humiliation more than anything she had enjoyed in a long time.
"Y-You didn't show them those filthy pictures?"
"Of course I did, dear," she smiled straight into her eyes, a look of triumph glistening in them. "The boys needed something to get them worked up a little before they actually sampled the merchandise."
"Well you can all get out, right now." She almost screamed at the top of her voice. "I'm not going to do it! I don't care what you do!"
But, with a movement that took her totally by surprise, Sam, the ruddy faced man caught her hand and twisted her arm behind her back so that she helplessly twisted around and fell back against him. Her soft silk gown fell open, and even with the pain and hurt racing through her arm, she was aware of the other man's eyes gazing hungrily at her naked breasts which protruded full and white out into his view. He moved a little around in front of her so that he could see the full rounded, naked front of her exposed body.
"You don't think we're gonna let a chance like this get away from us, do you chicken? We been waitin' a long time for you to get your proud little wings clipped."
Sara's immediate reaction was to cry out and scream but the man holding her anticipated her action and clamped his hand tightly over her lips.
His fingers slipped into her mouth and she bit at them with all her strength in one final desperate act of resistance. He swore loudly and threw her to the rug. The same soft sheepskin rug that she and Bill made love on so often. Tears gushed helplessly from her eyes at the horrible obscene thought of other men having her here where she and her husband had shared such tender and intimate moments in the long evenings before this nightmare had begun.
Jack, the man who had been leering at her breasts, reached down and laughingly, without effort, ripped her dressing gown off her. She tried to cover her nakedness with her hands but then the breath was knocked out of her by Sam's foot pressing hard down into her stomach with such force that for a moment she felt nothing.
"OK, bitch, you asked for it," he snarled down at her. "When we get through reaming that little pussy of yours that sniveling husband of yours is going to fall in it the next time he wants a piece o' ass."
He stepped back after a moment and motioned for Jack to let her go. Her body lay stretched before them, slim and voluptuous, her full rounded breasts protruding proudly up into the air, heaving from the effort to regain her breath. She was dazed and there was an angry red welt where the sole of his shoe had dug into the softness of her flesh. Sam, his already ruddy skin growing more flushed by the second from the excitement of having his company rivals luscious young wife lying helpless and naked on the floor before him, felt his penis bulging tight inside his trousers, a heavy weight had moved deep down in his loins.
Sara lay groaning on the softness of the rug, her arm thrown across her eyes to ward off the sight of her cruel tormentors. She had never felt so helpless and used in her life and knew that she could never as long as she lived sink to any lower depths of degradation than she felt now. It was just horrible lying naked before the leering eyes of the two men who knew her husband so well and who forever after when they passed him would smirk at her submission to them.
I've fucked your wife, you poor son-of-bitch, they would smugly think to themselves and the thought sickened her.
"Come on, Abby, give us a show." She heard one of them say through the haze of her shame and humiliation. "Get her hot for us."
"She'll be hot enough in a minute. Don't you worry. I've given her something."
Oh my God, Sara groaned aloud as she remembered drinking, in her former desperation, the drink with the pills in it. I can't let it make me like last time! I can't give these horrible men the satisfaction of making me scream and beg for it. I've got to fight it for Bill's sake.
I've GOT to fight it!!
"Aw come on, Abby. Just feel her a little bit and get her stirred up. You've done it before."
"Alright, alright," Abby chortled softly and secretly anxious herself to participate in the depraved debauchment. "But its going to cost you another ten for this little exhibition. I don't come cheap."
"Sold," Sam grinned, still nursing his hand where Sara had bitten him. "I wanna see this little bitch get it every way possible before we get outta here."
Lying naked and feeling more vulnerable and shamed than she'd ever felt before, Sara didn't even try to stop the tears rolling from her face. Her body was trembling and her breasts and loins felt hot and moist with a strange mixture of emotions. She involuntarily jerked as she felt the first tiny warning of the drug taking effect ripple gently through her belly. She could feel the hot stares of the men who had settled down on the couch as their eyes peered down between her legs at the soft, blonde pubic hair sparsely covering the mound of her cunt. Her eyes were closed tightly but she knew that Abby was standing over her fully clothed and preparing to do things to her. Horrible, lewd things that normal people only talked about in whispers. She felt trapped and helpless like a small bird caught in the clutches of a voracious, wild cat and all she could do was he there defenseless and lost and be devoured to satiate its craving hunger.
"Open your legs, dear," she heard Abby croon evilly down at her. "The boys want to see how tight that sweet innocent little pussy looks."
Sara lay rigid, afraid to move and yet also afraid not to follow the obscene commands of the woman who had now kneeled down over her. And the next moment she cried out and tried to jerk away as the sharpness of her nails pinched at the tender soft flesh of her pubic mound.
"Aaaaaaaagh!" She moaned and let her legs slip slightly apart.
"Wider, they can't see it all," Abby commanded again and losing patience, grabbed her ankles and pushed them wide apart. Another hopeless cry of protest erupted from between Sara's tightly clenched lips as her legs opened wide, exposing the pink, moist flesh between the soft, hairlined lips of her cunt.
She could hear in the distance from the couch the soft gasps of appreciation slipping from the lips of the lewdly watching men and then her body jerked again as she felt the warm soft fingers of the woman brush gently at the small tender ridges on either side of her open vagina. They played there for a moment, teasingly pressing the lips together so that the smooth, soft flesh folded sensuously around her clitoris, bringing it to a quivering involuntary erection. Then, with a fanning motion of the fingers she stretched them wide apart, exposing in all its vulnerability the pink, oval hole of her cunt nestled temptingly down between her open thighs.
"She can feel it, she can feel it, did you see her jump?" the older woman breathed gleefully over at the men.
"Yeh, but she needs a lot more," the ruddy faced Sam snarled. "We want her ready to fuck a donkey when we give it to her."
The teasing fingers continued their kneading and stretching at the soft, sensitive opening of her loins and Sara tried to force herself to lie still and take it. The sooner it was over the better and it would be over sooner if she didn't prolong it by trying to resist.
Maddeningly, the fingers insinuated themselves, hurting her there at first so she groaned softly and clenched her teeth tighter together. And then... they were probing around inside her, the thumb teasing against her clitoris while the other hand moved down under the soft white moons of her buttocks pushing them up towards the gently thrusting fingers.
Beneath her, Sara gritted her teeth and tried to stifle the low soft moan that seemed to have its beginning deep, deep in her belly.
"Doesn't that feel good, my little darling," Abby crooned softly above her. "Wouldn't you like it to be a hard throbbing cock inside you like this with a man's hands, a big man's hands cupping your ass and pulling you up tight against him like this."
The two men had risen from the couch now and were kneeling around her, their eyes bulging in undisguised lust at the obscene fondling of the young wife's body by the older woman. Sara, who had closed her eyes again to shut out the sight of Abby's almost fiendishly contorted face, opened them again her mind recoiling again in horror at the lewd grins of desire lining their lips.
The fingers were smoothing around inside her and she closed her eyes to shut out the sight of their leering faces. Her cheeks were flushed and her body burned all over. She had never known such shame and humiliation before in her life and she knew she would carry this degraded feeling with her all the rest of her life. She would never be able to forget it as long as she lived... but in spite of her resolution to fight it and the shame burning lasciviously through her mind she felt a moistness growing down between her legs. Her vagina was involuntarily throbbing open and she could feel the searching fingers slipping wetly around inside against the smooth fleshy walls.
"Mmmmmm, she's tight. You'll like that around your cocks," the woman working above her whispered in a half-tone to the gasping men.
"Bet Donovan didn't know what a hot little bitch his wife really was," one of the men breathed excitedly, not taking his eyes from the heat of her loins. "Man, look at her squirm."
"Yes, I can feel her getting ready," Abby whispered again across to them. "I told you she'd be a good screw."
And with that she thrust her fingers, several of them, deep up inside the tight ring of flesh between Sara's thighs bringing a small whimpering cry from her lips. Her buttocks tried to squirm away but the determined woman pushed them up again with the hand cupped beneath them and ground the probing hand deeper.
Sara's mouth dropped open emitting another helpless low groan. The tiny licking flames that had started as an infinitely small spark in her belly licked more lewdly inside her now.
Her mind had blanked and a sudden perverse thrill began coursing through her body at the obscene treatment she was being subjected to in front of the gaping men. Her very helplessness and the lewd shame of what was being done to her intensified the unwanted feeling. The fingers smoothing around inside her had begun a slow definite rhythmic thrust now and she had to fight with all her strength the sudden urge to squirm up against them, to draw them all the way up inside her suddenly ravenous vagina.
"God, look at that little pussy nibble," the ruddy faced Sam gasped, his eyes locked tightly to the stretched hair-lined lips surrounding the thrusting fingers. "Man, I'm gonna split that so wide she's gonna scream like a stuck pig."
The lewd words of her tormentors drifting to her in unreal syllables of sound only made her want to wallow in the sudden degrading well of shame that much more. Why not! Why not!
raced through her tortured mind. Maybe they're right! Maybe they're right that I'm nothing but a HOT little bitch! I LOVED it being done to me before! I LOVED IT! GOD, I LOVED IT!
The horrible degrading admission tumbled through her dazed brain like a whirlwind and with unrestrained horror at its bitter truth, she tensed her buttocks tightly together and tried once more to control the fires rebelling against her mind.
But then it was too late!
Feeling a sudden spasm of shame and thrill, mixed lewdly together at her hopeless plight before those devouring eyes, her buttocks began to involuntarily strain together on the kneading hand cupped beneath them. Her thighs began to slither up and away from her wet and open vagina until she lay back crab-like on the softness of the rug, legs drawn up and the whole of her crotch exposed to the delving female hand and the eyes of the men excitedly hunched down over her prostrate body. Tiny moans of helpless passion began to ripple unwanted from her lips that opened and closed fish-like in rhythm with the pulsating motion of her cunt, down between her legs. She could hear their gasps and lewd remarks of what they were going to do to her through the fog of passion surrounding her. They were using words that strangely and perversely excited her and added to her desire. Filthy words like, fuck, cunt, cockjuice, and all the other words that any other time would have only brought revulsion and horror to her mind, but that now she found herself repeating again and again in the shattered recesses of her consciousness.
She was vaguely aware of the guttural masculine words of... "God... look... tight little asshole"... and felt a rough calloused hand smoothing down between the wide spread cheeks of her buttocks. A harsh finger poked at the tight rubbery opening for a moment and then wormed its way into her anus. There was a slight resistance and then its virginal walls collapsed as the male finger squirmed its way up to the first knuckle joint, then the second... but she didn't care. It felt like a prick moving there, a tiny worm-like prick that didn't hurt at all, and added more to her perverse excitement.
"God, its tight. I'm gonna get her there," a voice breathed heavily. "My wife's never let me fuck her in the ass."
"Well come on, let's get her in the bedroom and give it to her!" another male voice said.
"I'm gonna cum in my pants if we don't do it quick!"
Sara emitted a low groan of protest as the fingers skewering deliciously into her vagina and rectum slipped wetly out from between her open legs and hands lifted her roughly from the sheepskin rug where she lay. She was half pushed, half dragged nakedly down the hallway to the bedroom where she was pushed harshly down on the large king-sized bed against the wall. A last coherent thought trickled through her brain, and she uttered a low cry of protest.
"Please, please don't do it to me here! Not here in my husband's bed!" Great tears of anguish and shame flooded down her cheeks again as she realized that this was to be the ultimate humiliation of her body. Other men were going to take their pleasure from her where she had only shared it before with Bill. She couldn't bear the thought of their emptying their lewd hot sperm into her womb where she had only let her husband do it before. She squirmed away and tried to cover her nakedness with the bedspread but the man named Jack, with Abby's help, held her down tight to the mattress while the ruddy skinned Sam quickly ripped his clothes from his overly paunchy body.
After a moment, he was standing over her, naked with his huge shaft of flesh protruding hard and menacing out from the thick mass of red pubic hair at the base of his stomach.
"Holder tight," he grinned down lewdly at her prostrate body. "I gonna have a little fun with little Mrs. Donovan first."
He pressed his face down close to hers, and she turned her head away from him. The pungent smell of the alcohol on his breath sickening her for the moment.
"Now tell us, baby. Who else has fucked you here on this bed while Daddy's been away?
Come on tell us?"
Sara lay immobile, trembling and trying not to look into his face. And then she felt his hands on her cheek turning her eyes back toward him.
"Come on, now," asked his sneering voice, which seemed to be gloating as well. "Tell us how many others have screwed that hungry little pussy of yours when hubby's been away?"
She didn't answer and his fingers tightened on her face until she was forced to cry out: "None, I swear it, none. No one has ever had me here but Bill!"
"Well now, ain't that a shame," he hissed, his lips barely inches from hers, "From the looks of those pictures you been doing a lot of suffering. Well me and old Jack here's gonna make it two more and we know a lot of other boys at the plant that wouldn't mind gettin' a little taste of smartass Donovan's wife some afternoon. We'll fix it up, huh?"
"No, No, Please leave me alone," she whimpered, sobering for a moment, her eyes bulging in terror at his words. "P-Please don't t-tell anyone else about what you're going to do to me. B-Bill would find out. It would kill him!"
"Well now you just relax then," he leered down at her, a look of final triumph in his face.
"We just might be persuaded not to talk about it if you work that cute Little ass of yours fast enough the next couple of hours."
The helpless young wife groaned, her head lolling almost lifelessly to the side as he released his grip on her cheeks. She was lost, completely lost and now they had her just where they wanted her and there was nothing in the world she could do about it but he there and let them vent their crude lust against her defenseless body until she satisfied them in every depraved way they desired. She could only pray with all her heart that her body would not betray her again as it had twice now and give them not only their own pleasure but also the pleasure of seeing her ultimate surrender and degradation to their lewd caresses and fondling.
But, even as the fear of her loss of control tumbled through her mind, deep down inside she knew it was too late! Her loins were still wet and throbbing from the sensuous stroking of Abby's fingers and her words of protest were only empty gestures of defiance. They meant nothing... nothing! It was her body that controlled her now and it knew what it wanted... what it had to have to satiate the hidden desires burning deep within it. Nothing, not even her love for Bill could change that... it was just too late... TOO LATE!
Sara could feel hands on her body, turning her over and she lay face down on the mattress, trembling, not daring to look up at the men who were going to ravish her as she had never been ravished before. And then, she felt the mattress sinking from another weight and a heavy hairy body pressing down against the full length of her back.
"Now, baby. You're gonna get a fuckin' like you've never had before," a lewd voice breathed into her hair from behind. She heard the other two, Abby and Jack, laughing softly in the background and then their hands were helping to hold her wrists to the bed. In a last physical rebellion against her attackers and the raging flames licking at her loins she began to struggle, fighting and kicking, but she was held so firmly that she could hardly move. Her arms were held straight out toward the edge of the bed and the knees of the man on her back were forcing her knees apart with a strong, rough pressure. She could feel the hardness of his thick pole of excited flesh lying teasingly down between the soft, flaccid crevice of her buttocks behind, and she clenched them tightly together to ward off the obscene intrusion. But, it only served to excite him more and she heard his heavy gasp of breath as her flexing movement inadvertently clasped him tighter to her buttocks.
Mistaking it for the signal of her surrender he moved his hands down her soft naked sides to her hips and rose to his knees back between her open thighs.
"You're gettin' hot, baby. Kneel up for old Daddy here," he commanded. Feeling the heavy pressure of his weight rise from her back, Sara tried to force herself flat against the bed.
She sobbed down into the pillow, her tears flowed as much from the humiliation of the perverse feelings coursing through her own body as from the fear of what he was going to do to her.
She lay trembling fighting her own rising emotions and did not move and the male hand holding her wrist jerked it up and twisted it behind her back. The hands on her hips hauled them up bodily as though she had no weight at all until the soft, white moons of her buttocks were waving high in the air behind her. The twisting of her arm forced her head down tight into the pillow in front of her, leaving her helpless and exposed from behind as she had never been exposed before. She felt his rough hands kneading at and digging into the soft flesh down between her thighs where they rose to form the vee of her open loins peeking lasciviously back at him.
"Oh God! Why did I take those pills? Why did I take them?" she mumbled incoherently down into the tear-stained pillow as she felt her body begin to move involuntarily again to the unwanted fondling of her flesh. She could feel her control leaving her again and a great void sifting through her mind. A void that was filled with the strange electric shocks shooting into her nerves.
It's not my fault! Oh God, it's not my fault! her mind screamed in a desperate attempt to justify the uncontrollable spasms rippling in her belly. It's the pills! It's the pills!
She could feel his huge ham-like hands cupped down over the softness of her gently swaying buttocks and his thumbs pressing outwards at the crevice slowly pulling the flaccid white cheeks deliberately apart. A cool rush of air tickled against the suddenly exposed mouth of her anus and she shivered beneath him, anticipating what he had in mind.
"Oh God, NO! NO!" she muttered, but she couldn't do anything about it. The hot growing sensation in her naked loins was unbearable. She could hear Abby crooning words of encouragement to the men but could hardly distinguish what she was saying... "Told you she'd be a hot little fuck... nice little ass... why don't you screw her there... she'd love it... go out of her mind with a prick up her ass." Then the other man's voice... "Yeah, fuck 'er there, Sammy boy, fuck 'er there. Bet Smart-ass Donovan's never given it to her from behind... "
"Yeah... looks tight... wife's never let me... beautiful... hairless..." she heard grunted from behind her as she felt his middle finger probe teasingly at the tiny, puckered entrance to her rectum. She groaned beneath him, feeling the skin straining around the small rubbery hole as he pulled at the flesh surrounding it.
"Pull her knees out wider," he commanded the others and she could feel hands leaving her wrists and pulling her knees away from each other on the bed until the tips of her toes were almost hanging over the sides. It felt as though she were going to split down the middle of her torso and gradually worked them back up to a more comfortable position.
But, this was the only concession the gasping man behind her would allow as his finger continued its lewd probing between her buttocks and suddenly without warning slipped slowly inside her protesting anus. She jerked forward slightly from the unexpected pain, her mouth wincing silently in unheeded protest. Then, as though another being had taken control of her body she strained back at the intruding finger as the tight rubbery flesh closed over it in perverse surrender. A low moan of surprised pleasure escaped from her lips as it dug sensuously up to the first knuckle.
"God, the little bitch likes it!" She heard the other man watching, eyes agape, from the side of the bed gasp. "Look at her go after it."
The lewdly grinning Sam moved it around deeper and deeper inside her tight expanding hole, preparing it gleefully for the greater entry that was to follow. Sara moaned ceaselessly beneath him, wriggling her hips more and more lasciviously back against it, her teeth gnawing desperately at the pillow in front of her face. He dug another finger in her, hurting her slightly this time and a short muffled scream escaped from her throat. But, the ruddy faced man persisted and screwed both fingers around and around deep inside, stretching the tiny puckered anus wider and wider until she grunted with pain and at the same time acceptance each time he skewered it more brutally around inside.
Abby watched in silent triumph, her own breath becoming heavier and heavier from the lewd display of uncontrolled lust and depravity going on before her. Her lips curled into a smile of satisfaction as the flushed face of the young wife on the bed, her hair strewn haphazardly down on the pillow, began to register a wild masochistic joy. She watched her mouth open and begin to pant, small mewls of undisguised pleasure trickling out, as the cruel probing fingers worked around and around deep up her now wide-stretched rectum.
Yes, yes, she thought victoriously to herself. This shall be one of my finest pupils.
"Go on, go and fuck 'er," the leering Jack beside the bed cried desperately. "I gotta get mine too!"
Sara choked back the words in her throat. She wanted to scream for it. She wanted him to fuck her there and fill the deep aching void in her belly with the hugeness of his cock. She wanted him to quench the fire now raging completely out of control back there between her wildly swaying buttocks. She had to have it! God, She had to have it, but she couldn't bring herself to beg. She just couldn't, not here on her marriage bed! BUT, the decision was not to be hers!
"Do you want it, baby?" the cruel, hard voice of Sam behind her demanded. "Do you want this big ole cock up in ya?"
Sara moaned, pressing her face tightly back into the pillow so that the words would not suddenly slip out and shame her more than she was being shamed already.
"Do ya?" he demanded again at her silence, ramming his fingers as deep up in her rectum as they would go.
"Aaaaaaggggh!" she groaned from the sudden pain of the depraved impalement, her last remaining resistance shattered by the strange mixture of pleasure and pain. "Yesssssss!
But not there! Please not there! Do it right. Do it right!"
"Where, baby, where? Tell old Daddy where you want it." he goaded her from behind, wanting to hear the words of final surrender from the lips of the wife of the man who had beaten him out of his rightful job. "Where, Baby!"
"Oh God, in my cunt! Fuck me in the cunt!" She blurted out the words almost involuntarily, the burning fires in her body controlling her lips.
"Naw, honey. You're gonna get it in the ass. Nuthin's too good for Smart-ass Donovan's wife." he sneered. "And... you're gonna put it in for me!"
"No, no, please, I can't. It'll kill me." she whimpered piteously, trying to squirm away from in front of him.
"Reach back and put it in, I said," he commanded coldly, his fingers digging harshly into the flesh of her hips.
Sara held her breath and in sudden fear reached back under his body and grasped the rock-hard cock that pressed between her buttocks. She recoiled in terror as her fingers wrapped tightly around it and she suddenly for the first time felt its tremendous size. God!
She would never be able to take it all inside her! It would tear her apart!
"PUT IT IN, BITCH!" he yelled down at her, digging his nails harder into the softness of her flesh.
Sara gritted her teeth and with her thumb and forefinger pressed the large bulbous head against the small tight ring of her anus. Her vagina ached and yearned to be filled and she hoped against hope that he would change his mind and suddenly sink it far up inside her the other way... the normal way... she could stand that... after all, it was the that were making her feel this way... it was not her fault... she couldn't help wanting it there... the pills were doing it to her.
But, the ruddy faced man was not to be denied and Sara's eyes bulged wide with horrible apprehension as she felt the blood-filled tip of his huge, throbbing cock begin prodding and working methodically back against her anus. The muscles of his thighs stood out and bulged against the soft tender backs of her thighs as he strained forward. And then, it was worming its way into her, feeling like the tip of a large heavy nightstick being forced up into her quivering behind. She grunted helplessly down into the pillow and clenched her eyes tightly shut as the straining, elastic nether ring suddenly gave way before the relentless pressure and the huge head popped salaciously inside. A slight hiss of escaping air could be heard as it entered.
He held tightly to her hips and the helpless sight of her trying to pull away excited him more.
"Ooooooooohhh," she whimpered from the pain, her face contorted in agony and despair from the shame and hurt of the giant pole impaling her virginal and defenseless rectum.
The pressure of his straining thighs forced her forward and she began slipping away up on the sagging bed.
"Hold her, damn it, hold her!" he shouted as he felt her moving away from him and the hands of Abby and Jack moved to her shoulders again, pushing her back against the driving rod. Sam, gasping and grinning lasciviously as he struggled forward, gripped her squirming hips with all his strength and shoved like a demon against her futile cries of protest.
"Aaaaaaggghhhh! God! You're killing me! You're splitting me open!" she moaned piteously from the degrading kneeling position she was in. But, the throbbing fleshy rod continued its forward surge, pushing the rubbery resistant flesh before it until finally, with one last buttock-flattening lunge he had ground it all the way up inside the warm, constricting depths of her rectum.
"Ooooooohhh, Ooooooohhh," she cried as she felt his pelvis smack loudly into the softness of her upturned buttocks and his balls swing hard down against the open lips of her vagina below. She was impaled to the hilt, unable to move from the excruciating pressure that felt as though it were splitting her thighs horribly apart. His body stilled and he did not move for a moment allowing the widely stretched walls of her back passage to become adjusted to the strange new sensation of hardened cock, filling her there. He moaned softly, feeling with lewd delight the warm soft moons of her flattened buttocks pressing tightly into his loins. Her vagina was wet and open and he could feel the slight moisture from the smooth fleshy lips seeping salaciously out to cover the softness of her pubic hair grazing teasingly against his testicles, as they swung gently down between her open legs. His eyes were locked on the hardened rod of flesh that disappeared completely in the tight, wide-stretched oval opening between her raised twin white mounds. He moaned again and drew it out slightly, watching with bated breath, the tender pink flesh drawing out with it and then disappearing back inside again with his inward thrust. His breath came faster and suddenly with a gasp of arousal he began sawing rhythmically in and out deep down into the pink clasping channel.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh," she chanted, kneeling slave-like before him. The other's eyes widened and a further grin of triumph flashed across Abby's lips as she saw the young wife suddenly lose complete control. She was jerking back against the lewd sodomizing of her rectum as though she were reveling in its depraved possession of her anus. The pain was obviously gone and her head was turning from side to side her long blond hair thrashing the bed on either side of her shoulders. Her face reflected an unmistakable joy that bared her lips back over the white, flashing teeth as though she were an animal closing in on its helpless prey.
Sam, kneeling behind her and connected to her rectum by the long hard pole of excited cock, watched the vicious white penis disappearing and reappearing all the way up into her wildly gyrating buttocks with each hard, cruel thrust. Not a bit of it could be seen left as it buried itself lewdly up into the tight resistant passage, the desire-inflated head straining far up into her quivering belly.
Her lips opened and closed in the all consuming torment of the ecstasy rippling through her body and she clenched her buttocks tight behind her to imprison the pistoning cock tighter inside her, her tortured mind panicked that it might slip away and leave her empty again. Empty and void as it seemed she had been all her life before this very minute! She couldn't let it go! She couldn't!
"God! God, look at the little bitch go! I ain't never seen one get so hot!" the one called Jack's voice registered in disbelief as he huddled down by the squeaking bed, his eyes locked to her desperately bucking body.
Abby's face lit up into an even more evil grin as another idea flickered lewdly through her mind. She wanted to see this little bitch get it as she had never gotten it before it and when it was all over she would never have any trouble with using her any way she wanted to for all time to come.
"Make her suck you, while he's giving it to her." She hissed over to the lust-incited Jack.
"She can take on both of you at the same time:" She did not have to make the suggestion twice and suddenly through the dim awareness of her uncontrolled passion Sara felt fingers at her lips, opening her mouth, and then rubbery hard flesh pressing tight against her smooth white teeth. She swallowed and opened her eyes and saw, directly under them, a long thick cock rearing ominously out of an open zippered fly. He was lying directly alongside her, forcing the large bulbous head into her mouth. She started to resist for a moment but the wild uncontrolled flame searing her loins overcame her initial revulsion and with a ravenous guttural sound coming from deep in her chest she opened her lips wide and swallowed the pungent tasting instrument far into the warm wet cavern of her mouth.
Behind her, Sam, his eyes bulging wide at the sight of the rock-hard cock of his buddy sinking wetly between the young wife's tender open lips, began a desperate, wild thrusting into the wide split crevice of her salaciously wiggling buttocks. He was close to cumming and squeezed and kneaded at the soft resilient flesh of her pumping behind like a maniac.
Below, the hard throbbing cock imprisoned deep in the passion-driven mouth of Sara began to undulate rapidly in and out between her lips, never quite withdrawing but always leaving a tiny inch or so sheltered beyond her teeth in the warm, moist flesh of her mouth.
She closed her eyes to blot out the sight of its hugeness and began a hungry nibbling motion with her teeth, gentle but firm, her tongue swirling lasciviously around the small fleshy ridge separating its length from the pulsating head. She could feel the moist, lubricated tip brushing tantalizingly against her tongue taking her mind in brief spasms from the great trunk implanted deep in her rectum behind. The glans in her mouth were slippery from her own saliva and she knew it would only be matter of minutes until both the great cocks buffeting her squirming doll-like body between them like so much putty would erupt inside her and fill her as she had never been filled before with their hot boiling sperm. She was lost now, completely lost and there was no longer any shame. There was no longer anything, not even Bill or the horrible victoriously twinkling eyes of Abby crouched close down watching her body succumbing with depraved abandonment to the lewd ravishment she was being subjected to there in her own marriage bed. There was only her awareness of an uncontrollable desire where the shame should have been, her desire to reach that point that was building... building... building like the coming tempest of an earth destroying storm ready to unleash it fury on the helpless land below.
And then they were there... both of them!
In the heat of her passion she became aware of the increased vigor of the thrusts into her rectum behind and the trousered hips crushing up tighter and tighter into her face. She could feel the cock rigidly poling into her mouth, begin tensing in great trembling movements and the hands pressed against her cheeks grip harder. He levered forward beside her there on the bed until it felt as though he were trying to push his cock all the way down her throat to meet the other coming up from far back in her rectum. She was almost suffocating and piteous groans of protest broke from her lips around the pummeling instrument only to be drowned again as the sound was shoved back down her throat by his brutal inward thrusts. He screamed and rammed it far into her mouth until the tiny strands of pubic hairs protruding from his open fly were pressed tightly against her nose.
"Oh suck it hard you little whore, suck it! I'm cumming! I'm cummmmming!"
And suddenly her mouth was flooded with a great undamming of hot, white liquid that gushed uncontrollably down her desperately swallowing throat like a raging river of fire, that had no end. She fought for breath and gulped hungrily at the thick milky fluid wildly ejaculating from the jerking cock sunk deep down toward her contracting tonsils. And then, as suddenly as it had exploded in her mouth, the spurting organ began to lose its rigidity and she could feel it slipping wetly from between her lips. She was able to catch her breath again and ran her tongue around her slippery sperm covered lips, taking in the last of the remaining tiny droplets of semen that had trickled there from the corners of her mouth.
At the same time she was aware of the greater assault against her behind and the screaming within her belly for her own release. She buffeted back against the driving cock like a wild mare, small pleading mewls of passion slipping again from her freed lips. She was almost there... almost there... Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh... and her hips were forcing themselves back as the driving cock worked demon-like and hard in her rectum making her strain and grunt as though she were desperately trying to fart. She had never felt so abandoned and her body contorted and convulsed as if she wanted to show herself off, to show the forgotten Abby and Jack just how wild it was possible to get. And behind her she knew he too was ready. She could hear him wheezing and panting, faster and faster and he forced her thighs so wide with his knees that she was almost flat on the bed but the pain didn't matter.
Nothing mattered!
She was gone, gone, no longer any shame, no longer anything, just a wild, uncontrollable urge to reach that peak, the peak that was coming... coming... commmmming... commmmming! And the fire in her belly exploded... juices flowing... hips churning... Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh... Aaaaaaaggggghhhhh... And on and on into a beautiful rushing relief, her senses closing to all around her, shutting out the leering eyes watching her shame and humiliation, shutting out all the things that no longer mattered in the beauty of the moment.
Dazedly she heard the salesman gasp behind her in words she did not understand and then he thrust into her so hard it felt as though he had rammed all the way up to her throat and she inadvertently moaned in the slight tinge of pain. She felt his loins jerk convulsively against the flatness of her upraised buttocks and then another great surge of hot, swirling semen, this time, flooding deep up into her rectum, filling her quivering belly almost to the bursting point. And then, he too fell back from her and she could feel the welcome cool rush of air tickling against the unplugged hole of her anus as she fell forward on the bed, her breasts heaving spasmodically down into the mattress.
Later, when under the careful prodding of Abby the two men had recovered, Sara felt her now aching body turned on the bed. She made no move to resist even though the full effects of the alcohol had worn away with the desperate effort of her climax. There was no more feeling left in her and the tears, even though the shame of what she was doing had returned, refused to come. She kept her eye tightly closed to blot out their faces and now was only made aware of their presence by the sound of their lewd laughter and jokes about how good she had been and what they were going to do to her next.
"I get her this time, and square in the pussy," she heard dimly as she felt her almost lifeless legs being drawn roughly apart.
"Save a little of that for me, man. I wanna split her there too," another voice chimed in.
"Open them thighs, baby. Ole Jack's gonna see what Smart-ass Donovan's gettin' in the night time to make him so tired."
Without hesitation, Sara drew her legs up, her feet flat on the bed and holding the position for a moment, let her knees fall slowly outward. She knew what they wanted and the sooner they had had all of it they could take they would leave. She would make certain they got it. What the hell! She had had it every way in the book now, what did it matter anymore.
She felt the heavy weight shaking the mattress next to her as one of them crawled over between her widely spread legs and dropped the heaviness of his body down on top of her naked form. Without thinking she lifted her thighs and locked her ankles tightly around his back, pressing the open plane of her cunt tight up into his loins.
"God damn," he grunted and guided the throbbing rod of excited flesh quickly down into the waiting lips of her moist and open cunt. He lunged forward with another deep throated grunt, impaling her fully with one long stroke on the hardened full length of his cock.
"Oooooooooh," she moaned helplessly in spite of her resolve not to show her true emotions again. But, God it felt good!
She groaned again in a half-conscious surrender and snaking her arms tightly around his neck, pressed her mouth wetly against his. He moaned and sucking her probing tongue deeply into his mouth drove his rampaging cock deep down into the swirling pit of her belly. She contracted the now tingling muscles of her vagina tightly around the wonderfully surging instrument and began a slow rhythmic grinding of her hips and buttocks tight up against his rotating pelvis her womb opening like a budding flower to take him as deep down inside her re-wakened cunt as he could go .She could feel the softness of his testicles brushing salaciously down against the sensitivity of her forever expanded rectum as the speed and tempo of lunges increased moment by moment. She opened her eyes momentarily and became aware of the other two watching her slowly churning body catching fire again but it didn't matter. Her loins were squirming desperately now and momentarily as her eyes locked on Abby's triumphant face she had one more coherent thought that this was depraved, horrible and that she had rather be dead than have them watching her helpless body turning again into a raving, insatiable animal of lust. But she could not stop and suddenly realized through the heat of her all consuming desire that her body was all over the place, her legs flailing, locking, unlocking, squirming, fighting to pull him deeper until there was no more reality but her wildly pleading voice ringing piteously through the room for greater and greater indignities to be heaped upon her naked twisting form.
And she got her wish. How long it went on, she did not know. How many times they had spurted their hot thick semen deep in her quivering belly she did not know. The hours came and went and it was not until the late afternoon shadows were filtering dream-like through the still open curtains of the bedroom that the men rose from their brutal pleasure and left her exhausted nude form lying spread-eagle and almost lifeless in the center of the rumpled bed. She could see their vague shadowy forms as they dressed and was aware of Abby hovering victoriously over her, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
"Now, my dear," she could hear her voice hissing down at her. "I think you'll play our little game my way. Won't you?"
"Y-Yes," was all she could manage to whisper, her voice quivering with each word. "B- But please don't let it get to m-my husband."
A slight mischievous smile flickered across Abby's lips, her face beaming as though she couldn't resist the one final thrust of the dagger that would totally destroy all the dignity this proud young woman had left.
"He knows, my dear." she spat vindictively as she turned and followed the laughing men out the door. "How do you think he got that promotion?"
CHAPTER FIVE
Sara stood alone on the balcony, oblivious to the raucous sounds of the party behind her.
The thunderous roar of the waves pounding against the rocks below her and the flickering lights of Carmel-by-the-Sea across the bay seemed to have her mesmerized. From a distance it appeared the beautiful girl had stepped out onto the balcony just to avoid the smoke and noise inside, but closer you would have noticed the tears and her grief-stricken expression; the cowering fear of a cruelly beaten dog in her eyes. She stood motionless, her drink untouched, with the salty, spray-laden winds whipping her long honey-blonde hair haphazardly across her face.
It would be so easy... so easy... flickered through her mind... the noise inside would hide the sound of her fall. Bill, her own husband! How could he have done it. How could he have ever condoned her treatment at the hands of Abby for the sake of money and money alone. Abby had been right. He had known and she hadn't even had to ask him about it. The look on his face when he had returned home that night of their anniversary so many months ago had told the complete story. And... when she had begged and pleaded with him to run away with her and start over again, he had only shrugged his shoulders and muttered something about never finding a deal like this again as long as they lived. She had screamed and threatened divorce and a thousand useless things but he could only mumble something about Abby threatening to give those pictures to the court if she tried such a thing. It had all been one long horrible nightmare since then and how many strange and depraved men she had taken on at the "bridge club" she had lost count of, not even remembering their faces or the way they had looked. Only the countless horrible things they had done to her and made her do to them still remaining seared in her mind. These things she could never forget even if she lived another million years.
And these parties... how many of them she and Bill had attended together and watched each other getting screwed silly in the same room by some other man or woman she had also lost track of. Well, one thing, she had never let him touch her again after Abby's vicious revelation that he had known about what was going to happen to her that afternoon of their anniversary and she never would again either. They had maintained appearances alright and had even come close to becoming accidental bed partners at some of these "swap" parties Abby threw but somehow had always managed to avoid it when the final draw of the evening came. She couldn't have stood it as the life they had had together was over and she was just biding her time until she could work out some way to get away.
She almost had enough money saved from her "bridge earnings" to go to another city and take a secretarial course or something that would let her make her own living and then she would be dependent on no one. It was either that... or, and she shivered at the thought... the rocks waiting on the cliff below.
"Hello, Gorgeous, what are you doing out in this wintry air all by----Sara, are you crying?"
"What?... Oh, Dick... no, it's the wind. It's making my eyes water." Sara hadn't even heard Dick Adams walk up and his voice had startled her out of her tormented reverie.
She had thought she wanted to be alone but she found she was relieved to have someone to talk to... particularly Dick Adams, Jill's husband. She had grown to like him very much and he was always exceptionally nice to her. The several times he and Jill had come over for dinner Sara had found him to be a delightful conversationalist and, with his dark good looks, probably would have been very attracted to him if Jill hadn't already taken him.
"Here, have one of these. Abby's making these wild drinks with champagne and cognac- guaranteed to warm away cold winds." The open friendliness in his voice cheered Sara.
He really is very nice, she thought, as she took the proffered drink.
They stood talking on the balcony, Dick making her laugh with humorous remarks about his job and then laughing heartily in return when she told him how she had seen him watching her that time at the swimming pool with his magazine upside down.
The champagne had made her a little giddy, and she felt very sophisticated as she chided him about staring at her. "You really are going to have to be a little more careful, Dick Adams-suppose someone else should notice? Jill, for instance?"
At the mention of his wife's name, Sara thought she saw a fleeting shadow darken his eyes, but it was gone as he said: "Jill? She wouldn't mind." His voice softened, and he added: "She might have once, but... Hey, wait a minute, why are we getting serious?
This party's supposed to be fun. Here I am with the world's most beautiful girl, high above the rest of the world and drinking champagne. What more could I ask for?"
The tone of his voice sobered Sara momentarily and she turned quickly to look at him. He wasn't even looking at her, just staring out over the railing, the muscles in his jaw clenching. She had meant to teasingly reprimand him for his overly familiar remarks when she saw that he really was disturbed by something.
"Dick, what is it? Is something the matter- hey, you're the one who said we should be having fun." She touched his sleeve, and as he turned, she could see the strain of unspoken words tauten the craggy planes of his face.
"Sara... I... forget it, let's go in get another drink." She watched him make a visible effort to change his mood, and took his arm as they walked back into the crowded gaiety of the living room. By the time they had pushed their way through the laughing mob toward the kitchen Dick had regained his good spirits. "Here, come on with me while I make another of these disgraceful concoctions and we'll get politely loaded." He took her hand and led her to the bar in the kitchen.
It is nice to be with him, she thought again, I just wonder what is bothering him so much.
During the time she had been out on the balcony the party had gotten considerably wilder and the noise was almost deafening after the stillness outside. There were couples trying to dance some of the new "in" dances to the piercing sounds of a long-haired band Abby had hired for her party and one whole corner of the large living room looked like a great psychedelic steam engine... the heads like pistons on a huge camshaft throbbing up and down through a smoke-filled haze.
"This is the first time I've ever seen you at one of Abby's beachhouse parties," Dick was speaking to her. "Yes, this is the first time she's ever invited me, it looks pretty wild."
Dick put his arm around her shoulder as he answered. "If this one is anything like her others, it may be a little too wild... you probably should have turned down her invitation."
Her mind laughed bitterly at his words. She couldn't have turned down Abby's invitation even if she wanted to-and if he knew what had been happening to her every afternoon he would have laughed too... and the hold Abby now had over her with the dirty pictures... he would have laughed even more at that.
Dick continued, unaware that she had been well initiated the last few months. Somehow he had always been away on business when she had been forced to attend. And now, tonight, it was Bill's turn to miss it. "I'm surprised you haven't heard of Abby's little get-togethers out here. Each time it's something different, each one a little more bizarre than the last one. And Winston's just as bad as she is... " he paused to light them both a cigarette... "you should have seen their "Adam and Eve" party last year! Hmmmmmm, I wonder what they've planned for tonight. It's always just about half-way through the party that they spring their new little theme on everyone."
He took her glass for her and led her back into the glittering cacophony of the living room.
It was awfully hot from all the bodies packed into the jammed room an little curling pall of cigarette smoke was making her eyes smart a little. They were trying to make their way back out onto the balcony when the lights rose and the music suddenly stopped.
"Uh oh, here it comes," Dick said, as Abby Baines stepped up onto the small dais that had been built for the band. "Don't worry, Sara, if it's anything too rough I'll take you out of here."
"I'm fine" she whispered back, "as long as you're here to take care of me." Now why did I say that, she thought, I don't want him to get the wrong idea. Still.
She laughed, trying to cover the weight of her words, when the hush that had fallen over the room was broken by Abby's words.
"Quiet, please-I know you're all a little curious, and if you'll wait just a moment I'm sure you'll be pleased with this evening's festivities. Now, if everyone will follow me, I'd like to show you Winston's prized addition to our beachhouse." She stepped from the stage and headed for the balcony. She turned, "Oh, and you can leave your drinks here, Lawrence is bringing down cases and cases of chilled champagne."
Dick and Sara fell in with the puzzled crowd and followed Abby out onto the balcony and down the steep stairway. Sara held his hand tightly until they reached the curved path below that wound around the side of the cliff. The laughter and shouting picked up again as staggering group of thirty or forty people hilariously made their way down the precarious cobbled walkway.
Wordlessly, the two of them joined the weaving snake-like procession, trying not to slip on the spray-drenched stones.
The path ended about midway down the steep incline at a door that, in the darkness, looked as if it had been carved into the granite face of the cliff. As their eyes adjusted to the lack of light they could see that it was the entrance to a strangely shaped structure that seemed to be molded against the rock.
Then they were jostled inside by the crush of people behind them, and as their eyes became accustomed to the soft red lighting their gasps of appreciation joined the others'.
It was like a huge cave or grotto cut into the mountain, panelled across both sides and the rear with aromatic sheets of deep red cedar. The indirect red lighting gave it an eerie appearance and the fire burning in the immense copper firebowl in one comer cast dancing black shadows on the walls.
The whole front was completely open, sliding glass doors had pushed to either side, and the cool air and thunder of the crashing surf below filled the room.
Its openness, the moon over the ocean, it was breathtaking-but the most amazing sight of all was the huge terraced swimming pool in the center. The Stygian darkness made the water look almost black and the rising swirls of steam from the bubbling pool made it look like some exotic plaything of Satan in Hades.
All around the varied levels of the pool were massive, multicolored cushions and far in the back was a steaming waterfall. The whole room, the wooden panels, the heated pool-the spectacular view-it was unbelievable, and it was several moments before anyone spoke.
"My God, Sara... have you ever seen anything like this in your life?" Dick's words were almost drowned out by the awed voices of everyone in the room, each trying to outdo the other in praise of the uniqueness of the large indoor pool. Then, they quieted again in anticipation as Abby called them all to order.
"Well, everyone? What do you think of Winston's new toy?" She waved her hand toward Lawrence, the butler, who was unloading a dumbwaiter in the rear of the room.
"Lawrence, will you see that everyone has some champagne while I explain this evening's activities to them."
They had all taken a seat on the cushions spread around the pool and now sat in a huge semi-circle facing their hostess.
"Now, gentlemen... if you'll all go through that door on the left and you ladies through the door on the right you'll find a dressing room and something to wear for the pool. When you return I'll explain your parts to you."
As they all rose and Dick gave Sara's shoulder a reassuring pat as he got up to join them.
They crowded into the small alcove to find a series of hooks on the wall besides rows of lockers. Picking one of them, Dick found a small wrap-around sarong, a mask, and what looked like an Arabian , turban. Shedding his clothes, he put them on, realizing the turban and mask covered his face and hair so completely that it was impossible for the men to tell each other apart.
Laughing like small children, they all trouped back in to the poolside and jumped into the hot water. Lawrence came around, handing them all chilled glasses and an ice bucket with an unopened bottle of champagne, and they all cheered as they popped the bottles and the corks began flying around the room.
Suddenly, their laughing and cheering ceased as Abby led the women back into the room.
There was a gasp of appreciation from the men as the women filed in wearing only veils that came across just under their eyes and long diaphanous gowns that made it obvious there was nothing beneath.
Dick tried to pick out Sara but he couldn't be sure... one of the women seemed to be trailing behind the others but there was no way to be certain it was Sara. Abby led them all to the pool and as they stepped under water the shimmering cloth clung to their bodies, becoming completely transparent.
The men were cheering wildly, waving their champagne glasses, and reaching for the women as they entered. But Abby stopped them.
"Quiet, please! If you're to follow the rules of the game there will be no talking or touching each other until I explain the regulations!"
The room became very hushed as Abby motioned to someone behind her, and a sudden murmur as a beautiful girl, completely nude, entered the room to stand beside Abby. She was followed in a moment by Lawrence who also wore nothing, pushing a small table on casters.
Dick tried to stifle a laugh. Abby's dignified English Butler looked so out of place! So stately, as if he were still wearing his striped waistcoat and tails. He looked a little uncomfortable, reminding Dick of the children's fable about "The Emperor's New Clothes."
Abby picked up the small gavel from the table, banging it sharply to regain their attention.
"Silence! silence, please. There will be no more talking until our game is completed! Now, as most of you are aware, we've had some rather fun parties here at the beach house- but this one should top them all! And for a good cause too!
Her last sentence puzzled them all until she continued.
"You should all be able to leave here this evening with a glow of good conscience in the spirit of giving. I'll explain. I had had several fairly good ideas for this party but nothing really exciting until the other after- noon when a solicitor of The United Crusade stopped by the house. It began to dawn on me that there must be some way that we could all contribute, as public-spirited citizens, to this worthy cause... "
Her words were interrupted by appreciative laughter from her becalmed audience "... and so, I've devised a unique "slave auction" for this evening!" The murmuring in the pool loudened until Abby finally quieted them again. "Please! Silence! Our auction has very special rules. There must be no talking."
She turned to the young girl at her side and her butler.
"I'm sure you all know Lawrence... and this is Soraya. They've both been kind enough to volunteer their services in recording the bidding and preparing the "slaves"... " She refilled her glass and continued: "Now listen carefully and I'll explain the instructions. You may all be wondering why you're disguised... it's very simple. As you're all married I am going to assume that you will want to bid for your mate... oh, and by the way, we will be bidding.
And all proceeds are to be donated to the United Crusade. Please, this is no laughing matter, I can't continue unless you respect the importance of your contributions. I'm sure you'll all agree that this is better than giving at the office... "
It took a moment for the laughter to die down. "... let me continue, assuming that you all do want to bid for your spouses, I thought I'd make it a little more difficult. And for those of you, that want to, or mistakenly, bid for someone else- perhaps the masks or veils will give you an excuse when you get home later.
Now, for you men-one woman at a time will be brought up to the auction block-she will remove her gown, but not her veil-and those among you that feel that she is your mate may bid whatever amount you choose. The highest bidder, of course, will receive the "slave" with one restriction: he must first come up to the auction block himself and remove his sarong! If his Slave agrees that he is indeed her mate they may leave together.
But, once the choice has been made to Master's and Slave's satisfaction, there can be no exchanging!
I would suggest that you make your decision carefully... "
The steam rising from the pool mingled with the hum of shut off voices as the suddenly stilled participants as they tried to absorb the full meaning of Abby's words. What had started out as a game had become very serious... it wasn't a matter of money, because all of the men there were either well-to-do or very wealthy- No, it was more than that-each man was trying to imagine, or trying to visualize, a way that he could be sure that he had picked his wife... trying to think of some definite identifying mark that would assure that they hadn't made a mistake.
And for the women, it wasn't any easier- they could wait-wait... for the highest bidder. But suppose they made a mistake!
Abby, before she left to change her own clothes, spent a moment gazing around the room and enjoying the confusion she had created. Her fun had just begun. Of all the parties she had thrown, this should prove to be the best... not just the idea of the auction of the women to the men... but the way she had planned out the other element of it. The young, so-in-love-with-her-husband, Sara's end of it. She had taken great pains to make certain that Bill was sent off on a long extended business trip for the company so that his proud little wife would be there all alone, the only woman without a husband to bid for her. The others could make any arrangement they wanted to as far as swapping was concerned- and she was certain deals were being made among the men right now, but that would all be among themselves and no one else in the crowd would be the wiser. After all they were all disguised.
But, with that snippity little bitch, she would be the last one auctioned off and there would be no one left to bid for her. Yes, she would be standing there all alone and naked and everyone would know who she was because there was no husband to bid and that the surprise partner she, Abby, had chosen for her would be a substitute. The entire group would know she was being unfaithful and that would make her humiliation and degradation complete. She would have her in her power to do anything she wanted to with her for the rest of her life.
Abby smiled softly to herself and left the room, motioning for the game to begin.
CHAPTER SIX
"Gentlemen. Gentlemen, may I have your attention, please." Lawrence's distinguished British voice lent an air of dignity to the atmosphere as he prepared to start the bidding.
With the exception of giggling here and there, the room became very quiet-all eyes riveted to the podium before them. Suppressed excitement was heightened by the amounts of champagne that had been continuously flowing during the past half-hour.
"Soraya, my dear, would you bring us one of the slaves." The dark, lovely girl that had been standing motionless by his side obediently stepped down to the edge of the pool- entering the water, she appeared to be wandering randomly amongst the women until she reached one of the veiled figures toward the rear. Silently, she took her by the hand and led her back up to the small stage.
Abby had chosen her guests well, there were none of the wives who were unattractive.
The worn- en were all fairly young and considerably above average in appearance.
And, though it would have been simple enough for the husbands to identify their wives by pre-arranged gestures or remarks there seemed to be a general agreement that there would be no cheating. The low lights would help to prevent this also.
In the women there was enough curiosity to make them wonder if their mate really would be able to identify them by the sight of their body alone-a desire to see if this could be accomplished without the aid of any hints or clues whatsoever.
In view of this unspoken determination, the room was absolutely quiet as Soraya brought the first "slave" up onto the stage. And then, Lawrence began to speak.
"Gentlemen, our first object d'art for the evening. Soraya, would you please remove the slave's attire." As his assistant undid the clasp that fastened the gown, its removal seemed almost superfluous. Wet from the hot water of the pool, it was completely transparent-molded to her curved shapeliness like a thin film of molten glass. But, as Soraya removed it completely there was a hushed sigh from the men in the pool.
The glistening highlights of water, and the sensuous shading of indirect red lighting accentuated every curving line, every distinct attraction of the beautiful girl before them, In the sudden quizzical quietness of the stilled room, Lawrence continued: "As may be seen, Gentlemen, this is truly a magnificent example of feminine loveliness... notice the high, firm breasts, the gentle curve of stomach, the rounded shapeliness of her hips... is there one among you who will start the bidding?" He paused to glance at the turbaned men in the pool. "... and may I remind you that all proceeds are for a worthy cause. The House of Baines will initiate bidding at fifty dollars, all ensuing bids will be in increments of ten dollars. Your bid will be recorded by a raised gesture of your right hand."
There was a sudden raising of hands in the pool, each man surged on by the excitement of the erotic auction-and also, those who felt that the slave on the block was not their wife delighted in the opportunity to raise the bidding, knowing full well that the actual husband would ultimately be forced to make the final bid.
At first, with the sudden rush of bidding, Lawrence had great difficulty keeping pace with the raised hands, but as it slowed he began to entice the bidding even higher.
"Gentlemen, the bid is now at four-hundred and forty dollars. Certainly not enough for this magnificent creature-perhaps you are not fully aware of the value or loveliness of this beautiful young girl. Soraya, bring the slave to the edge of the pool and have her turn around."
As the girl was brought forward the men edged closer to the terraced steps of the pool, their eyes focused intently on the firm, dimpled buttocks of the girl before them.
"You, slave-bend forward and grasp your ankles!"
As she obeyed, the men could see her strained muscles tauten the backs of her thighs, her long legs, and the soft wisp of pubic hair visible between her exposed buttocks from behind.
Lawrence saw hands raising, one, two... then three. As he continued to extol the features of the girl before him, he announced the bidding.
"Five hundred dollars, gentlemen-the bidding has reached five hundred... my dear, will you lean forward a little more."
Now, her outspread legs opened the crevice of her buttocks, the hushed room could easily see the dark puckered circle of her anus... and below that, the moist, red lips of her vagina.
Lawrence let her stand in that position for a moment before he asked her to turn and sit down, facing the men.
"Now, my dear, he back and spread your legs."
She complied silently, spreading her legs and bringing them up to reveal to everyone in the room the opened loveliness of her smooth, pink pussy.
The auctioneer surveyed the raised hands before he spoke. "Gentlemen, rather than continue with this paltry bidding, is there a connoisseur among you willing to bid a final one-hundred dollars for this gorgeous young lady?... "
A man directly in front of him, one who had been pushing his way forward, raised his hand.
"Wonderful! Gentlemen, I shall close the bidding at six-hundred, this gentleman's bid, unless there is an objection among you."
The room was silent.
"Sold! for six-hundred dollars... would you please step up, sir." The highest moved to the side to climb the terraced stairs, as Lawrence continued: "As you are all aware from Madame Baines' instructions-all that remains is for the Slave to view her new master, and give us her approval. Now, sir, if you will remove your garment for her inspection."
There was quiet suppressed laughter from the men's side of the pool that was followed immediately by an almost inaudible gasp from the women.
Whoever it was, the supposed mate of the "slave" on the block was phenomenally endowed. And it was apparent why the nude girl before them didn't hesitate at all when she nodded her assent that this was indeed her mate... or maybe she didn't care but would take him anyway!
The two of them re-entered the pool arm in arm amidst the loud cheers of all the party-goers-and a second girl was brought up by Soraya to take her place.
As the bidding went happily on as before, interrupted only by laughter and the clinking of champagne glasses-there were only two people in the mist-filled room that were saddened by Abby's game. Sara, as she tried hopelessly to make herself invisible in a far corner of the great, steaming pool, and Dick Adams who stood angrily among his jostling, drinking companions.
Sara was tormented by the realization of what Abby had planned for her. Abby had known Bill wouldn't be there for her little game, that Sara would have no alternative but to be the only single woman, stripped and put on display for everyone to see.
Why, why hadn't she run away! She wished she had killed herself out on the balcony!
There was nothing she could do now. If she tried to leave Abby would stop her with those horrible photographs-she'd probably pass them around right here at the party for everyone's enjoyment.
Dick, furious in his anger at Abby Baines, stood divided between two loyalties: Jill, his wife, and his love for Sara Donovan! He, too, had realized the sadistic Abby's move concerning Sara and he was trying frantically to think of some way to spoil the old bitch's plans. And, as for Jill, since he had seen her go upstairs earlier with another man he felt nothing but rage and disgust for the lovely woman other men lusted for and for whom he felt only hate.
Slowly, an idea began forming in his mind. It was beautiful! He'd have his revenge!
He searched the sea of veiled faces, staring carefully at each woman until he was sure he'd found Sara. He could almost see the tension in the young girl's body as she stood apart from the others. Trying to catch her attention he moved to the edge of the pool.
When he was sure she had noticed him he nodded almost imperceptibly, trying to assure her that everything would be all right.
The tautness in her shoulders seemed to lessen and he saw her nod back.
Relaxed, he turned again to the bidding which was going much faster now. The rear of the pool was filled with already paired couples who were laughing and drinking champagne as they blatantly caressed each other. One couple, in a dark corner, was making love by the side of the pool.
Even Lawrence, the staid and stoic butler, stood fondling Soraya as he continued with the auctioneering.
Dick, delighted in his scheme to ruin Abby's plans poured himself another glass of champagne and surreptitiously raised it in toast to the girl he had identified as Sara.
Glancing around to make sure she hadn't been noticed, she raised her glass to his.
He surveyed the three remaining women in the pool as a couple who had just finished stepped down from the stage and threw their disguises away as they joined the others.
As Soraya stepped into the pool to bring one of them up to the auction block, Dick realized with a start that there was only one man left with him!
Winston! Yes, it was Winston, the only short pudgy man in the whole group. Well, Winston was in for a little surprise.
When Lawrence's assistant led the girl she had chosen up the stairs, Dick could see that it was Jill! The veil wasn't quite long enough to hide her flowing black hair-and even without that, there was no mistaking that figure.
That mean that only Abby and Sara were left!
Lawrence asked Soraya to give the new slave assistance in removing her gown and, as he did, the room suddenly quieted. The men, all of the people in the pool stopped everything to stare at the unbelievable figure of the girl on the auction block.
Even in his anger, Dick had to admit that he had never in his life seen as beautiful a body in his life.
He tore his thoughts away from his wife, and tried to concentrate on his plan.
Sara stood petrified as she watched the bidding begin. She also knew that it was Jill on the stand- that it must be Abby who was standing only a few feet from her! What did Dick plan to do? He had to bid for his wife! How would he be able to help her?
It was completely silent in the room as Lawrence proceeded with the auction. All eyes were on the two men as they bid for the statuesque girl on the stage.
"Gentlemen," Lawrence continued with the masquerade... "surely you must agree this is the most delectable, most beautiful slave brought before us this evening. I must remind you that she will become the sole property of the highest bidder... we are at five-hundred and twenty dollars... am I bid five-fifty?"
Dick smiled. Winston was doing exactly as he was sure he would-trying to raise the bidding until the proper moment to back out. At Lawrence's words, the short pudgy arm shot once more into the air.
"Ah... Five-fifty. Five-seventy-five? Am I bid Five-seventy-five."
Dick looked at the lovely, splayed body of his unfaithful wife, and raised his hand.
"Gentlemen, I am delighted to see that you're appreciative of such luxurious merchandise." Lawrence leaned forward. Five hundred and seventy-five dollars... do I hear a bid for six hundred?
There wasn't a sound. Oh my God, I've gone too far, Dick thought frantically.
No! There it was again. Winston couldn't resist raising the bid even higher... his hand rose once again.
Dick almost laughed aloud as he heard Lawrence's next words.
"Six Hundred Dollars!... am I bid six-fifty?"
Nothing!
"Gentlemen, please... do I hear six twenty-five?" Neither Dick or the other man in the pool moved.
Lawrence knew something had gone wrong. He was sure that the shorter man was Mr.
Baines, but he had the attention of everyone in the room and couldn't stop. He had to continue.
"... Ladies and Gentlemen, it appears that the final bid for this lovely creature is six-hundred dollars... going once... "
Dick couldn't conceal his chuckle as he watched the little man next to him squirm. I wonder how he's going to explain this to his old bag of a wife.
"... going twice! Sold! Sold to the gentleman on my left. Please step up, sir for your slave's inspection."
This was the only step that could ruin his plans, Dick thought, but he knew Jill's pride too well. She would know that he had deliberately ceased his bidding. She'd never give him the pleasure of begging him to take her. And, his thoughts were confirmed as Winston removed his sarong. Amidst the quiet laughter in the background, Jill Adams nodded her head and led the short man back into the pool.
The room was filled with the buzz of soft whispering, everyone knew something had gone astray but they weren't sure exactly what it was.
Dick felt gloriously triumphant as he contemplated the confused thoughts that must be going through the mind of Abby Baines. She must know by now that he had purposely underbid her husband, she's probably even realized why. I've got her either way she goes, he thought victoriously. If she has herself picked next, I won't even bid! I wonder how her fucking pride will feel about that! And, if she sends Sara up... I've trapped her! Because, she, the Great Abby Baines, will be left out in the cold!
The podium in the front of the pool was in a melee of confusion. There had been no instructions to cover this, Lawrence thought uncomfortably. Why doesn't she give us a signal?
Then, through the rising noise of the room, he saw the older woman nod angrily toward the girl to her side.
As Soraya led the girl up the terraced steps and started to unfasten her gown, the suddenly stifled room was shaken by a man's deep voice.
"One Thousand Dollars!"
A roaring cheer came up from almost everyone in the pool as Dick Adams climbed the terraced steps to take the girl's hand. She was crying softly as he carried her back into the pool.
It sounded as if a thousand champagne corks burst simultaneously as bottles were opened jubilantly and brimming glasses were pressed into the hands of the man who had made the highest bid of the evening!
CHAPTER SEVEN
They had been driving silently through the fog for almost an hour. The long, serpentine Coast Highway from Monterey south into Big Sur had been completely enshrouded every few miles in great blinding walls of fog that circled the higher cliffs like giant grey-white haloes.
The only sound had been the muffled whistling of wind whipping across the sculptured roll bar of the sleek silver Porshe Targa and the backed up roar of the engine as the man down-shifted coming into the curves and banks of fog.
In the soft glow of the cigarette lighter, Sara watched Dick light his cigarette with one gloved hand and place the lighter accurately back in the dash, never taking his eyes from the tortuous road.
His huge bulk filled the small interior of the car -a powerful car capable of controlling the driver but almost like a toy under the touch of his masterful driving. After Bill's artless driving Sara had been a little afraid when they had left the party and seen the racing machine that they were to drive down the Coast. But after a few moments she had realized that, even in the dense fog, she had nothing to worry about.
He had slowed only when they ran into rolling drifts of fog. On the expanses of open road he had red-lined the screaming Porsche engine, taking the corners high and coining across them like an arrow into the long straight-aways that disappeared like a black ribbon under the nose of the little silver car.
Sara watched him in the dimness, seeing the joy and strength in his face as he drove.
After moments on the road the tension and anger in him had vanished, and though he hadn't spoken she knew he was happy.
He's a strange man, she thought, so masculine and confident, yet gentle.
He's like every man should be. I feel so safe and protected when I'm with him, as if his strength alone could vanquish any danger, any harm... I've never known anyone like him.
She nestled back into the enfolding warmth of the bucket seat, feeling the soft wetness of the mist and the gentle wind-tugging in her hair as it blew across her face.
In the calm serenity of the racing darkness her mind refused to dwell on the horrors of the earlier evening. She only remembered the way he had quietly taken her hand, whispering to her that he had gotten her clothes from the dressing room, and led her past Abby's unseeing eyes into the house. They had changed quickly and slipped out into driveway away from the orgiastic noisiness of the party below.
She opened her eyes to the sound of Dick's throaty chuckling. He had slowed the car, and in the dim light she could see the quiet laughter in his eyes as he handed her the bottle of champagne that had lain between them.
She pulled at the cork, and tilted the bottle back -the rising bubbles tickling her nose as she swallowed the frothing wine. It left a small wet mustache on her upper hp and trickled from her chin- he laughed aloud as he removed his glove and wiped it from her face.
Then they were both laughing uncontrollably, tears streaming from their eyes---- Dick tried to drink, but kept choking in convulsive laughter, the wine running down his cheeks.
"and Winston... can you imagine his face as he kept waiting for me to bid!... and Abby!... " Dick's voice broke, as he tried to catch his breath.
Sara was laughing so hard, she couldn't talk as the full humor of what they had done had her bent over in hilarious, bubbling laughter.
"Oh, Dick... you were so wonderful!... he... she must be furious... Oh, I loved it!... I love..." she stopped, her laughter cut off, her voice soft. "Dick, I love you. I love you so much... " her words trailed off, she couldn't look at him.
The car became very quiet, a velvet curtain blanketing her whispered words. There was no sound, no spoken word... just the rustling whine of the wind as he handed her the bottle. She drank deeply, her mind whirling with the echo of her voice. She couldn't, she couldn't. But she did... she did love him! There was no sound, only the heat of his eyes burning into her.
Why didn't he say something? Please, Dick... I didn't mean it... it was the wine... please say something to me.
"Sara... " the deep hoarseness of his voice reached into her spinning, aching thoughts.
"Sara, Darling... I've loved you from the moment I saw you."
His white-knuckled hands clenched, gripping the steering wheel with all his strength, his eyes staring sightlessly ahead-and his words rocked heavily in the stillness, a great granite boulder teetering precariously on the brink of a bottomless chasm.
They drove the last few miles in complete silence. It was only after they had ascended the winding driveway of The Phoenix, the growl of the engine dying, that he pulled her to him and kissed her.
An unspoken chain linked them together as they climbed the cobbled path to the hidden restaurant at the top of the mountain.
The Phoenix. Sara had often heard of it, but had never seen the wild magnificence of the awesome structure that greeted her as she and Dick crested the lanterned pathway.
She shivered, and Dick put his coat around her as he led her across the broad Spanish-tiled courtyard to the huge circular stone fireplace on the far side. The moonwashed expanse of subtly colored tile spread in a great arc around the massive fireplace, the half-shadowed silhouettes of the few couples before the fire motionless like carved hunched figures of another time.
It was quiet, except for the tinkling of a swaying broken glass wind chime and the soft, melodic strumming of a guitarist in one darkened corner.
They walked to the ledge of the stonewall rimmed courtyard and pressed together as one, looking out past the flickering halo of the fire-the green-gold velvet of the mountains under the full moon and the pounding phosphorescence of the ocean far below seemed magically unreal.
Behind them, the black broken angles of the restaurant rose high into the night, blending into the darkness and the rugged walls of rock and cypress.
Sara turned and, with her back against Dick's arm, could see the soft light of candles within the ethereal beamed interior of the restaurant.
She shivered again, backing closer to his warmth as he held her against him.
"Darling, do you want to go inside? It's warmer," he whispered, his breath brushing her ear and sending tingling chills down her back.
"No, please, Dick... it's so beautiful. Can we sit outside by the fire?"
The fireplace was terraced with steps like a small outdoor amphitheatre and they sat in its warming glow watching tiny figures dance in the flickering red-gold of the firelight.
A little old man, reminding Sara of strange faraway places, with his clipped white beard and brilliant scarf around his neck, came and talked to them for a moment and went away.
Sara wasn't able to understand a word he was saying and as she watched the receding back of his turtleneck sweater, she turned to Dick who explained that he was an old Russian sailor who had been a waiter there for as long as anyone could remember.
Dick had ordered them hot chocolate laced with brandy and taught Sara the Russian words to thank him when the old man returned. An almost toothless smile cracked the wrinkled leather of his face as she tried to repeat the words she'd learned, and with surprising lightness he jumped down to join them.
He and Dick talked for almost an hour, the musical and sometimes guttural words seemed to be a perfect background for the quiet wonder and serenity Sara felt.
As her eyes became adjusted to the darkness she could see other couples huddled in dim corners, their voices a soft hum that melded into the music of the guitar and the tinkling glass.
Dick explained that, because of the dangerous roads and the distances to the closest towns, the Phoenix was rarely crowded. The menu was a delicious conglomeration of anything the Gypsy couple who owned it felt like cooking, and the prices varying with whomever dropped in. Excessively high for the stray tourists in their ridiculous Hawaiian shirts and as low as nothing at all for the writers and wandering artists that roamed the south coast of the Big Sur.
Once, the quietness of the night was shrilly broken by a piercing cry somewhere above her, its shrieking strangeness frightening her heart suddenly to her throat.
The two men chuckled and Dick held her tenderly as he pointed behind her to a grotesque shadowed shape high on the crest of an arched roof.
The cry had come from the throat of a majestically prancing peacock, it's plumes strained against the darkness. He explained that the preening bird was the symbol of the restaurant.
The Phoenix, a legendary bird of the Egyptians, that every four hundred years set itself afire, and in the flames rose from its own ashes to live again.
The legend of the great fire bird, the restaurant, the full moon, everything seemed to fit in so perfectly with the way Sara felt. She huddled against Dick's knee, loving him... loving the new turn her life had taken more than anything she had ever known. She felt his nearness, his protection, and knew nothing could ever hurt her again.
The old man got up to leave them. He shook Dick's hand in both of his, saying something to her she couldn't understand, but there was no mistaking the warmth in his words as he left.
The other couples around the fire had already departed unnoticed and they were alone as he kissed her and told her again and again how much he loved her. She just held onto him, there was no way to answer him, no words to express what she felt.
They sat in the flickering light of the fire, both thinking of the troubles they would have with his wife and with Bill, but knowing that nothing could or would ever stand in their way.
It was this certainty that made Sara decide to tell Dick everything that had happened.
Abby. The pictures... everything. She knew he would understand and forgive her.
He said nothing as she told him, sitting motionless until she finished. But then she felt the trembling in his hands, the white-hot rage in his eyes.
"Those dirty... those dirty Rotten Goddamn Bastards! I'll... I'll kill them... those dirty, rotten fucking bastards!... "
He was shaking, trembling violently with rage- his searing fury causing vengeful tears of hate stream down his cheeks!
She held him with all her strength, trying to still the convulsive quivering in his shoulders, until finally he spoke-his voice cracking in his effort to calm down.
"Darling, I swear I'll get them! No one! No one will ever hurt you again. I swear it!... If I don't kill them first, I'll put them behind bars for the rest of their lives!... "
He got up, telling her to stay. She waited tremorously as he paced back and forth, to the edge of the wall-his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to quiet his roaring anger.
Finally he came back and lifted her to her feet. His voice was almost normal again as he held her, vowing to protect her-vowing to love her as long as he lived. They sat again before the fire, no more than burning coals now. Talking of the future, the new and wonderful places they would see and live.
Sara was so happy, so calm and safe, that she didn't even hear the man walk up to them.
Another waiter, not the old Russian, Ivan, but another dressed just like him.
"Pardon me, Mr. Adams, your car is blocking another in the parking lot. Would you mind moving it to the side."
"Of course not. Sara, find Ivan and order us another brandy cappuccino, Darling. I'll be right back."
Sara kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Please hurry, darling, I love you."
As he went back down the path with the other man she rose to find Ivan. She walked cheerfully inside the restaurant, dwarfed by the massive beams overhead and the great centerpoles, each appearing to have been hewn from a single huge tree.
Ivan was nowhere to be seen and when she asked the bartender at the small curved bar, he looked at her admiringly before saying that he thought the Russian sailor was still outside.
The small group of men, most of them bearded, at the bar watched her approvingly as she swung happily on her heel and went back outside.
The rhythmic clicking of her heels on the tile was suddenly drowned by the raucous blaring of an automobile horn and the loud, shrill scream of an overwound engine! The piercing sounds seemed to fade away into dead silence, only to be followed by a muffled series of dull crashes... and a whoooosshhhhing explosion!
She ran. Her shoes lost in her screams. She ran, the terror in her throat building, expanding like the black, oily cloud that was rising from the rocks below.
Someone grabbed her. It was Ivan! He kept shouting something-trying to hold her back.
Grabbing at her shoulders.
"Ivan... Oh My God! Let me go! What is it?... "
She screamed. "Let me go! Let me go!... Dick!... Oh my God!... Dick... Where are you... please dear God... No... No... NO!" The old man tried to hold the hysterical girl, trying to grasp back her frantically pounding fists"... finally, others came to help him, subduing the screaming girl who fell moaning to the ground, her tears mingling with the blood streaming from the cuts on her legs where she had fallen.
But everyone else was over by the stone railing. Watching the flames below, the hissing clouds of steam that bellowed from the turbulent waters as the still-burning pieces of wreckage from the silver Porsche fell from the rocks into the foaming surf.
In the small group kneeling by the sobbing young woman the wracking cries suddenly ceased as mercifully she passed out, unconscious in her tortured agony. Gently, they picked her up and laid her on a bench, covering her with a coat.
The buzzing of voices rose disjointedly in the scattered knots of people around the edge of the cliff... broken phrases sometimes distinguishing themselves in the excited garbled conversations.
"... no one could live through... My God! look at those flames!... How did it... ?"
"I don't know, all of a sudden I heard... someone call an ambu... it's too late... the police... someone call the... "
It was only when Ivan, the old waiter, returned to check on the young girl and started shouting in broken English that someone realized the woman who had been with the driver of the car was gone.
There was no one on the bench, only a wrinkled bloodstained coat.
In the darkness, the confusion, it had been deceptively simple for the two men, one short and pudgy and the other tall and very British-looking, to wrap her up in a blanket and carry her to the waiting car.
There was a blinding light... gone... back again. Sara's mind struggled through a kaleidoscopic maze of whirling lights. Red. Then black, her head throbbing in a jarring thunder as she strained to regain consciousness. The light again... a flash of jagged white lightning stabbing deep into her tortured brain.
The rumpled, scholarly old man replaced the penlight in his shirt pocket and removed his stained fingers from her eyelids. He turned to the small group behind him.
"There, she's coming around," he said in a high, raspy voice, "I don't think there's been any damage." Then, he added in an angry possessive tone: "You fools, you could have killed her. There was no need to give her that much. No need at all." A tittering, almost demented laugh dribbled from his lips as he walked stiff-kneed, bird-like around the table that supported the semi-conscious girl. His arthritic fingers carefully checked the bindings that strapped her wrists and ankles at the comers.
"Doctor MacMasters," Abby Baines' cold voice interrupted him, "I think you had better consider to whom you're talking before you call someone a fool. I might just take your little plaything away from you."
The old man's head bobbed apologetically as she continued. "You should consider yourself fortunate, Doctor. We could easily have killed that idiotic little bitch, the way she almost fouled up everything!... exactly the same way we got rid of her precious lover," the woman added maliciously.
"But that would have been too painless, too easy for her. So, for the time being she's yours to play with. We'll just watch."
Then, the tall, platinum-haired woman strode across the few feet separating her from the hunched little man, gripping him harshly on one bony shoulder. "Just don't incur my displeasure."
As the old man had removed the weight of his hand from her forehead, Sara's mind had slowly begun to clear. The agonizing throbbing hadn't subsided, but her senses had begun to focus-she heard voices, garbled at first, but suddenly startlingly distinct.
"We could easily have killed that... exactly the same way we got rid of her precious lover... " Those words, Abby's voice, echoed over and over again.
It was true!... Dick was dead! Oh my God, Why?... Please let me die... Why did it have to happen!... WHY?.
She tried to lift her head, to see where she was, but a broad leather strap was stretched tight across her neck allowing her almost no movement at all.
The room was empty except for the sound of her whimpering sobs and the quiet creaking of her bindings as she tried hopelessly to free herself. The others had gone into another room.
When they had left the doctor's laboratory Winston had gone straight to the small bar in the living room and the others had joined him. He and Jill stood by the counter with their drinks listening to Abby. She was questioning Lawrence about Dick Adams. Was there any possibility anyone had seen him hit him before he put him in the sports car? Had the car been going fast enough when Lawrence had driven it off the cliff?
Abby's probing continued until she was interrupted by Jill's sudden burst of laughter.
"My God, Jill! There's nothing funny about this. We have to be sure... "
Jill broke in. "Abby. Don't you see, it's finally happened... " They all turned quizzically to the tall laughing brunette, wondering what she meant.
"It's happened. The Butler! The butler finally did it!" She giggled hysterically. "The butler is the murderer!"
She pointed at Lawrence who stood uncomfortably apart from the rest of them. As the gist of her words became clear they all began to laugh with the exception of the butler who stiffened and turned away.
The enormity of what they had done, the killing of Dick Adams, had sobered them all except, perhaps, Abby and the crazy little doctor. Jill's remark had released their pent-up tension in the form of nervous and uncontrollable laughter.
Finally, they all quieted down, except the little doctor who was still jumping around in his stiff-legged gait, giggling and pointing... "The butler... heh, heh... the butler did it... the butler did it... heh... heh."
It was Abby who walked over and slapped him. She hit with enough force to send him sprawling onto the couch. "Shut up, you crazy little bastard!"
Jill, standing nearby, saw the intense hatred flare up momentarily in his eyes... then disappear. And she knew she had found a way to put her long-thought-about plan into action. But, she needed an ally.
Winston? No, he was too soft. It had to be Lawrence. Jill didn't think she would have any trouble with Lawrence, it might be necessary to make up to him for her little display a moment ago. He hadn't looked very happy when she had started talking about murders and butlers, but she felt sure her feminine wiles, the lovely scent of money, and particularly, her major weapon-her body-would be enough to persuade him to join her plan.
She'd have to get him alone for a moment though... and then, her lovely little friend, the ingenious Dr. MacMasters.
The little doctor had gotten up from the couch, the lucid moment of anger straying from his eyes and hobbled into the laboratory. Winston had never moved, still standing by the bar and Abby had joined him to make herself another drink.
Jill took a quick look to see what the still tensed figure by the fireplace held in his hand and joined Abby and Winston at the small cocktail bar. Abby, pouring herself another shot of brandy, didn't even seem to notice her and Jill quickly made two drinks, one for herself and one for the butler, Law-Abby seemed to be arguing with her husband about something, but Jill couldn't discern more than broken phrases as she silently left them.
Rather than go directly to him and run the risk of attracting Abby's attention, she moved quietly to the comer of the room, by the door that led out on the patio, and motioned softly, trying to catch his eye.
He saw her, and nodded, but seemed reluctant to follow her as she opened the outside door until her frantic waving transmitted its urgency to him.
Lawrence started to walk openly to her, but her hesitant glances and the crossed finger on her lips made him tiptoe quietly past the harsh voices of Abby and her husband as he softly made his way to the open door.
She reached her hand for him, handing him a glass, and drew him outside.
"Lawrence, SHhhhhhh... follow me," taking his hand she tugged him around to the side of the building. He said nothing, wondering-but following her pull. He had watched her often enough at Abby's parties, and his emotions had gone through a graduated series. At first, like everyone else, he was almost spellbound by her fantastic looks, the graceful sensuality of her spectacular body.
Then, his desire, his physical wanting for her had begun to diminish. He had watched her with too many men. Watched her play them all like a maestro with a violin, making them beg while she pulled the strings contemptuously. But he had never known the full extent of her callousness, how calculating she was, until last night.
The party had finally ended, the last couple still almost joined as they were thrown from the pool. Abby had been in a wild rage, her anger directed at everyone-at him, because of the slip-up in the bidding. But, even then there was nothing she could accuse him of, it hadn't been his fault. She had made no compensation for Dick Adams.
As the erect, dignified man followed Jill's lead behind the mountain cabin, he laughed.
Dick Adams would have been a man to know. At another time, another place. It was too bad, the switch that he had pulled on that depraved old bitch had been a masterpiece!
Abby Baines had been a ridiculous, shrieking harpy when she realized her birds had flown, screaming at everybody there. After Lawrence, it had been Winston, naturally, then she had aimed her pointed tongue at Jill.
But, the tall brunette had been no cowering victim, no cringing coward like Winston, and her violent retorts had bounced echoing from the beachhouse walls.
He had stood quietly in a darkened doorway, watching their screeching display until Abby had finally given up, her voice lowered, and taken Jill into her bedroom.
A half-hour, perhaps forty-five minutes later, "Madame" Baines had called for him. To get the car ready.
Jill Adams had given the directions, sitting beside him-with the Baineses in the back seat of the Rolls.
Surprisingly, it wasn't Abby Baines but the cold voice at his side that outlined what they wanted him to do. It was a simple plan, he'd done much worse in his lifetime, his only worry had been that feeble bastard, Winston.
Lawrence smiled vaguely as he remembered the short man's sputtering reluctance, his flimsy trepidations as they made arrangements for their victim to be called down to the parking lot. That weak bastard needed the punch in the mouth I gave him... no son of a bitch is going to cut me out of ten thousand dollars!
There hadn't been any hitches, they had the girl, and they'd never find a piece of that little car larger than a tuppence... no clues... just an unfortunate accident.
It had been on the way down the Coast, the unconscious girl in the back seat, that he had been forced to re-evaluate Jill Adams.
It was her husband he had killed, yet there hadn't been the slightest sigh of emotion, no regret -only a grim smile of cold satisfaction.
Even when they had pulled across the road toward MacMaster's and almost rim over that bearded freak, that "hippie," she had calmly quieted his protests, pointing to Sara and saying they had an extremely sick girl they had to get to a doctor immediately.
His thoughts snapped back to the present, she had stopped in a small grove behind the cabin and motioned for him to take a seat on a bench between two trees.
He sat, with her standing before him. Whatever she wants, I'll bet it won't be small, he thought.
In the next few minutes, the tall, thin man was sitting on the edge of his seat listening intently. He bud been right. It wasn't small!
At first, he had smiled inwardly as Jill Adams subtly went through the motions he had seen so many times before. The posing. The breasts and hips so carefully modelled. When she licked her lips, glistening wet, and leant to kiss him, he met her... Feigning passion, his arms strained around the curves of her lips.
Too many, he thought, I've known too many like this. I wonder how far she plans to go before I find out what she's really after.
Apparently he had done his acting well, because it was only moments before the girl pulled back, sighing heavily, seeming reluctant.
"Soon, Lawrence... soon we'll have all the time in the world." She moved back, leaning arched against a tree, searching his face carefully to make sure she had aroused him enough.
Satisfied, she continued... "Lawrence, is ten thousand dollars enough? Or would one-hundred and twenty-five thousand be better?"
There was no mistaking that she was serious. There was a tenseness in her voice, a surety that stiffened his back. He knew that he couldn't appear too anxious, but his greed-the sudden hoarseness made him clear his throat before he spoke.
"My dear, there is no such thing as enough... but just how and where do you plan to find this pleasurable sum?"
He could see that his calmness had impressed her, had made her slightly unsure of herself, and unwaveringly he waited for her to continue.
"Lawrence, I know where there's a quarter of a million dollars, cash! And I know how to get it. But I need help." she hesitated, her confidence waning in the mockery of his smile.
"Please, Lawrence... if you'll help me I'll split it with you! There are no guards, no one can know. No one even knows the money exists."
He stood up.
"Sit down! Tell me everything," he commanded. "Then," and his tone softened, "if what you say is true... of course we'll split it, and I'll take care of the necessary details."
The tall girl took a seat, her voice hesitant at first but gaining in confidence as she told him what she had learned the night before.
"It's Abby's money, Lawrence, money she's made with her organization. Two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash! Last night she told me where she keeps it, showed me part of it! She offered me twenty-five just to remain silent while you took care of Dick."
He stared at her. If this was true, if this stupid girl actually knew where the money was... he'd be set for life. He'd been with the organization too long not to know the fantastic revenue it was producing. Why, at the party last night alone he'd collected signatures for over thirteen thousand dollars!... He just had never been able to figure out what that old bitch was doing with it all. Of course, it makes sense... she can't deposit it and run the risk of having to show its source... she couldn't invest it... she must have been hiding it... every bleedin' penny!
Jill Adams continued her explanation. When Abby had taken her into the bedroom and finally calmed down, her rage had turned to planning. She had tried to explain what Sara's going to Dick could mean... the collapse of the complete organization, perhaps even jail for all of them. She tried to convince the younger woman that there was no way but to get rid of both Dick and Sara. She pleaded with Jill to tell her where they might have gone. It was the first time Jill had seen even a crack in Abby Baines, and the crack had split to a widening gap that had the woman grovelling before her.
But murder? Jill had kept disagreeing adamantly. There had to be another way, some other way that they could keep Sara and Dick quiet.
At last Abby had regained her composure, had interrupted the hastily contrived alternatives that Jill suggested-and told her to follow her.
They had gone to a small bathroom at the end of the hall and into an adjoining dressing alcove. The older woman easily moved a high-mirrored table to one side to reveal a dusty unused medicine cabinet. It had been completely empty but a concealed button had opened another compartment behind it.
Abby removed a small metal chest, throwing its lid open. Jill had never seen so much money in her life! There were stacks and stacks of neatly bound currency in large denominations.
Abby had yanked out a sheaf of bills, twenty-five thousand dollars, she said, and waved it in Jill's face. Take it or leave it! The woman screamed that it had taken her over four years to earn that quarter of a million, and nothing was going to stop her from making more, that if Jill didn't accept the money she offered it made no difference. She'd get Sara and Dick anyway... and Jill if need be!
"Lawrence, I knew I had to say yes. But, when I saw that money I also knew that I had Abby where I'd always wanted her. Don't you see, no one will even know that it's gone! No one but Abby even knows that it's there."
His mind whirled, already making plans. Good God! The girl was right. A quarter of a million just for the taking! And, particularly from that greedy old pig! She would obviously have to be taken care of, something he had almost done so many times for nothing.
Butler! Hah! He had known the time would come when he'd be able to repay her for the times she had degraded him, ordered him around like cheap scum.
She'd pay. She'd pay tenfold!... that perverted pig-slop!.
"Lawrence... Lawrence, listen to me." He was shaken out of his vengeful reverie as Jill went on.
"I've got a plan. First we have to... "
They talked in the darkness for almost an hour, going over and over the steps they had to take before they were satisfied that there would be no mistakes.
It was almost daylight when they reentered the cabin. They closed the door softly behind them as they walked quietly into the still darkened living room. The fire had gone out, leaving a mildly unpleasant odor in the air and the stale smells of liquor and cigarettes hung heavily in the room.
"Shssshhhh... " Jill tapped his arm and pointed.
Puckered, like a dying fish out of water, Winston Baines lay sprawled on one of the couches in front of the dead fireplace. He had passed out, a cocktail glass dangling from one dangling arm.
They looked for Abby, and finally found her in an adjoining room. Her clothes were hung neatly, but crumpled on the bed she looked like a discarded rag doll, the pastiness of her unmade face resembling glue that had melted in the sun.
Lawrence felt a wave of revulsion wash through him as he heard her wheezing nasal snores, and it was all he could do to avoid strangling or smothering her in her sleep. Jill must have sensed his compulsion because she touched his arm, mouthing no.
It would have been very easy to dispose of Winston or Abby now, while they were asleep-but in the seemingly short minutes outside they had decided on a better way. At Jill's insistence they had conceived a rather elaborate plan, particularly for Abby-and after only a moment's hesitance, Lawrence had agreed. Like slaves freed from a tyrant master, they had no desire to be either kind or compassionate.
But, for Abby they would need the old doctor, and now as the sunlight began to stream through the windows they went to look for him.
They searched several of the rooms, but it was only after they went back into the living room that they heard his soft, breathy laughing on the other side of the closed laboratory door.
He spun like a cornered beast at the creak of the door, a crazy light dancing in his spectacled eyes, but relaxed when he saw that it wasn't Abby.
It was Jill's realization of his fear and intense hatred for the older woman that had made her positive that he, too, would help her reach her goal. The money, and the utter debasement of Abby Baines!
Lawrence and Jill cautiously approached the old man. He had been at the table where the girl was strapped, and closer they could see that she was either deeply asleep or had been given some drug to render her unconscious.
She lay motionless, completely stripped and spreadeagled-and around her breasts and thighs there were red marks or welts that were slowly disappearing as the two of them watched. It was obvious that the hunched over little man had been mauling her brutally while the others slept.
"Dr. MacMasters... Dr. MacMasters. We want to talk to you." Jill spoke, and motioned the warped little man toward her.
"Doctor, it's important. It's about Mrs. Baines... " He had started happily toward her, but stopped and visibly cringed at the sound of the woman's name.
"Doctor... you don't understand. We know you hate her." His head bobbed in assent.
"Doctor... we hate her too. We want to hurt her, and we want your help... "
His shaggy head was bent, but the milky blue-ness of his eyes peered upward at them, staring intently to assure himself that they meant him no harm.
"Doctor, she wants to take the girl away from, to take her away where you'll never see her again," Jill stopped, and watched the impact of her words.
The demented little man had backed again to the table, leaning to hold the unconscious girl's limp hand against his cheek, shaking his head violently.
Lawrence spoke. "Doctor MacMasters... you know us, we're your friends. Come here, let me talk to you." His deep voice had calmed the old man, who dropped the girl's hand and hobbled over to them.
"Doctor, do you understand? Mrs. Baines wants to hurt you, to take away your girl... and have you locked up... "
"No... no, no, no... no... she can't! I will kill her. I will kill her." His high squeaky voice sounded like a poor recording and his hands were taloned claws as they pulled, tugged at Lawrence's sleeve.
The butler restrained himself from jerking away from the pleading touch of the frightened, musty little man and continued in a gentle voice.
"Doctor, listen... we can help you, we can get rid of Mrs. Baines if you do what we say.
Will you do it?"
The man seemed to be hopping up and down as he nodded his head frantically.
"The drug that you give Mrs. Baines... the one that she gives to her girls, that makes them crave sexual relations... do you have more? A lot more?
The old man tried to run over to a cupboard, but he looked like a wagon wheel that was missing a great chunk from the rim. After a moment, in his strange jerking rhythm he returned carrying two bottles. He held them out.
"Doctor, which is stronger, the pills or the liquid?" The trembling hand pointed toward the bottle containing the liquid.
In a few moments the strange old chemist had shown them the maximum amount that could be given to Abby without killing her. It was more than eight times the dosage she had given to either Sara or Jill!
As they left the laboratory, they told the doctor to be sure and lock his door. Then, they went into the kitchen.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lawrence drained his coffee cup and lit a cigarette. Sitting apart from the others, he had the quiet, amused expression of a spectator watching a cast of players perform on a stage.
A sardonic smile flickered across his thin lips as he watched each actor, watched them perform in their roles as perfectly and predictably as if they had been walking through their parts, reading aloud from a script.
Winston lolled morosely and woodenly on the couch, still suffering from a hangover- constantly bemoaning his ill health and drinking one bloody mary after another as an antidote.
Then he frowned slightly as he saw Jill taking another drink over to Abby. She was acting a little too eager, he thought angrily, she'd give away the whole game! They couldn't afford to make that old bitch the slightest bit suspicious. He'd spent too much time making those Ramos fizzes exactly, perfectly-so there'd be no trace, or aftertaste from the drugs he'd poured in.
But, his anger was short-lived. From the glazed expression on Abby's face he knew there was very little chance now she'd notice even if he walked up and poured MacMaster's drug in her glass right before her eyes. In thee three fizzes the woman had already drunk there had been enough lust-inducing liquid to turn a somnolent old whorehouse into a Bacchic orgy! What such a large quantity of the drug would do to one single woman should be very interesting indeed.
As the older woman greedily took the drink from her hand, Jill turned and smiled triumphantly at him but he peered into his cup pretending he hadn't seen her. That was the one phase of the whole operation that displeased him. He was thankful, he thought, for her surprising information about the money but, as for her.
The butler had no desire to become entwined with the tall brunette. First, he didn't like her.
There was something a little too calculating about her, but more than that-he didn't trust her! He knew full well that right now she needed him, that she realized she wouldn't be able to handle the operation alone. But, what would happen when he was no longer necessary? It was obvious that she was easily capable of double-crossing him... and he felt sure that was the first thing Jill Adams would do when she found an opportune moment.
Though the thought had probably been hovering for hours beneath the overt level of his consciousness, it wasn't until that moment that Lawrence fully realized that he was going to have to get rid of Jill Adams along with the others.
She was just too much of a risk. She'd given him all the information he needed and now he just couldn't afford to spend every minute watching her, guarding himself against every move she might make.
No, he smiled grimly, there was no other way. She had to be eliminated, along with the Baines, the crazy old doctor, and... Sara Donovan! His mind was jolted with the thought of her. During the hectic hours he and Jill had spent making plans, he hadn't really considered the young girl in the other room.
He was suddenly saddened with the realization that he'd also have to dispose of her. He couldn't let her live! There couldn't be any witnesses! Unless... Suppose he?... suppose he made the lovely young blonde his partner, instead of Jill?
Could he trust her?... he was sure he could. After all, he'd be saving her from certain death, they'd both be rich. Of course! She'd be perfect!
He hesitated. Did he really need a partner? There wasn't really any reason, there wasn't anything he couldn't handle alone. If anything, she'd probably only get in his way. No, he needed no partner-not for this job. And, with all that money he could get any girl he wanted-any girl in the world! He'd be taking an unnecessary risk by including her. No, he wouldn't take her along. She had to die, he thought regretfully, but he'd try to make it as easy for her as possible. None of this had been her fault. She wasn't like these other pigs who deserved the worst he could give them.
No one noticed the tall thin man rise quietly and step outside.
Jill Adams sat at the small bar on one of the stools staring intently at Abby Baines. Her mind whirled in vengeful delight as she watched the change that was coming over the woman she hated so passionately.
Small beads of perspiration had appeared on the flushed face of the older woman. Her cool facade of controlled composure had completely vanished, taking with it the Prussian arrogance and coldness. In its place there was a heated, dazed glitter in the woman's eyes, a soft slurriness in her voice as she spoke. And her hands fluttered about nervously, fanning herself and shakily lifting her loaded drink as she sipped at it continuously... she had unconsciously unbuttoned it, and her elegant silk robe lay completely open- loosely exposing one firm-tipped breast and rucked in folds at the tops of her thighs... and soft, crooning moans had begun to escape from her parted lips.
Abby Baines was totally unaware of Jill's presence-a mouse intent on catching a small beetle and oblivious to the stalking, circling of a predatory hawk high above.
In fact, Winston did have the appearance of a hapless beetle as he sat curled in his fat little way on the couch. The throbbing of his alcoholic hangover had disappeared as he tried to comprehend the change that had come over his cold and haughty wife. He had noticed several moments ago that she was staring at him, a strange unknown light in her eyes. He felt terribly uneasy. There was something unnatural with the way she looked at him, her eyes darting like the flicking tongue of a poised cobra. She kept looking at him!
Between his legs...!
He felt chills run down his back, wanting to turn away but somehow magnetized by her stares.
Jill's back stiffened in apprehension as the woman rose suddenly and unsteadily. Then she smiled grimly as the man's wife turned away from her and sinuously approached him.
Jill watched him cower into the corner of the couch as the woman came closer, she sensed his fright as she began to run her fingers through the thinning hair on the top of his head.
Oh, this is going to be fantastic! She thought ecstatically-but was interrupted by a hissing sound at her side.
"Jill... Shssshhh... come here." It was Lawrence.
He beckoned silently to her from the doorway to the bedroom. Disappointedly, she rose to join him. I wanted to see this, her mind spoke. Well, I'll see what that idiot wants and come back. I want to see the great, cold Abby Baines begging, pleading to be screwed! And, particularly by her little worm of a husband!
She followed the butler into the dimly-lit bedroom, her anger at missing even a moment of her revenge filling her. This had better be good, she thought heatedly! I'll find out what he wants, and then I'll go back in there. Besides, it won't be long before there'll never again be anyone to tell me what to do. I'll get rid of this butler so fast it'll make his head swim.
Her mind was so filled with enraged plans that it was a moment before she paused to look at the man before her.
In the darkness of the windowless bedroom her eyes hadn't fully adjusted. What's the matter with him? she thought. He looks so strange... so fat?..
Then her eyes dilated, allowing more light to enter, and his fattened shape slowly became the pillow he was holding in front of one hand.
"Lawrence!... what the hell? What are you doing with that stupid pillow!... What... " her words were broken off in mid-sentence as the pillow jerked twice in his hand.
The double thundering blasts, the sudden, searing agony were the last sensations that the woman ever felt. The acrid smell of cordite was beginning to fill the room as the tall, very British-looking man replaced the huge revolver in his pocket and tried to stamp out the smoldering flames in the pillow he had been holding The whirring sound in the laboratory abruptly ceased. The muffled explosions that had shaken the floor beneath his feet had startled the little birdlike man. In the suddenness of the blasts, the two of them so close together that they sounded almost like one, he had flicked the switch at his side. Now, in the echoing silence he trembled, his eyes darting back and forth, trying to determine if unexpected sounds represented any danger to him- or the young girl who lay moaning at his side.
Sara's body screamed in tortured silence, her mind just barely aware of the explosions that had stilled the violent currents of electricity that had been coursing endlessly through her. She felt waves of aching sickness rise in her belly as the tortuous shocks stopped.
Died out, leaving only the ceaseless vibrating of tormented nerve ends.
The captive girl had been turned over during the night by the old doctor and now lay spread-eagled on her stomach, arms and legs outstretched and fastened again in the buckled loops at the corners of the long table.
She had been unconscious when he had done it, unaware of her new position until a violent, painful electrical shock, had jolted her into sudden, arching wakefulness.
The electrodes at her wrists and ankles would probably have burned her horribly if it hadn't been for the huge rubber pads beneath each of them. As it was, there was still the faint odor of sulphur in the dark room and occasional flashes of blue, crackling light.
The electricity feeding the pads at her arms and feet must have been hooked to some form of rheostat, because as it continually jolted through her body and the defensive mechanisms of her nerve systems tried to mercifully numb her body to the pain, the laughing little doctor would turn a dial at his side, and increase the voltage.
The maniacal little man somehow knew the exact limits of her endurance, and just as she could take no more-at the precise moment her mind would begin to fade into unconsciousness-he would lessen the power... then, as the pain slowly began to ebb and she would begin to recover, he would jolt her into an even higher level of awareness with a sudden high-voltage charge.
Sara's mind, her whole body reeled for what seemed to be years on this excruciating threshold of agony... her thoughts, her soul pleading for relief, for death-for some merciful end to the unendurable pain.
My God! It's stopped! He's stopped! "Oh God, it's stopped... it's over!" she moaned aloud.
The shadowed form of Dr. MacMasters hovered there above her, motionless and silent until he was satisfied there was no danger. Then, the room was once more filled with his strange little laugh as he listened to her gasping moans.
"Heh, heh... heh... heh... heh... yes, it's stopped... heh... heh... but I have a new delight for you, my dear... heh... heh... "
"Aaaaaahhhhhhaaaa! No!... Please! No More!" She screamed as the meaning of his words sank to the center of her brain.
But he wasn't listening as he pulled a long, corded object from a drawer beneath the table.
"This won't hurt, my little pet... heh... heh... oh no, this won't hurt at all." He hunched over, bending so she could see the hazed glitter in his eyes. His face only inches from her side-turned face, he spoke again-his breath strangely sweet: "... You'll like this, I know you will... "
Then his face moved out of her line of vision, leaving only the tortured memory of his stubbled, toothless grin and a feeling of apprehensive dread in the darkened void.
She sensed, rather than heard him unravel a long cord and plug it in beside the table.
Where was he?
What was he going to do to her? She couldn't see him! She couldn't turn her head any more! It's so dark, where is he, what's he doing, why isn't there any light, what is he going to do to me... Oh my God, why is this happening to me... the agonized thoughts spun and tumbled in her mind.
"Aaaaaaahhh!" She screamed. Something alive, something was crawling up her leg!
Making awful, buzzing sounds.
"Shhhhhh... it won't hurt you," that horrible raspy voice echoed in the blackness of her mind.
What was it! What was he doing to her! Her skin crawled with the touch of that thing!.
She strained violently, the leather straps cutting deeply into her wrists and ankles as she tried to escape! Oh God, it's burning me, she screamed hopelessly, making no sound. Oh God! What's happening to my skin!.
The doctor giggled, watching the squirming, moaning girl. He watched the path of the buzzing vibrator in his gnarled hand... running it slowly up the inside of one trembling leg, and down the other. He had known what the effect would be! For hours the girl's body had been subjected to tremendous electrical shocks-and now her tortured nerves were going berserk under the unknown touch of the vibrating instrument.
Soon though, he knew, she would begin to experience different sensations.
"Oooohhhhhh! Nnnoooooohh! What are you doing to me! Please, Dear God! I can't staaaannnnnd it!" She screamed again and again and again.
Then the sound, the inflection of her cries began to change... to soften... to plead. She began to moan quietly, whimperingly.
What is happening to me! Great waves of heat came roaring through her body. The pain was gone. There was no pain, only a rising warmth! Am I going crazy! Oh God, what is it!.
The girl writhed uncontrollably on the table, straining at her bonds, as the doctor slowly, methodically ran the vibrator through the crease of her soft arching buttocks, across the small of her back... down the soft undersides of her arms and back again to her shoulder blades... and teasingly back down the curving furrow of her spine.
She had cried out, wanting to scream at the top of her lungs when she felt the violent vibrating spread the tensed cheeks of her ass, burrowing in between them, then across her back.
It's coming back! I want to feel it again on my ass! Why is it going so slow! Hurry! Hurry!
"Ohhhhhhhhh... yes! That's it! Hold it there!... Lower!... move it lower!... Ahhhhhhhh!"
He moved it down, digging it deeper between her buttocks, feeling it bump against the raised strained circle of her anus, holding it there for several seconds... feeling her jerk violently against the quivering black instrument in his hand.
Further down... until it nestled against the trembling, moistened lips of her cunt, running it lightly back and forth.
"There!... there! Hold it there!... yes... Ohhhhhhhhh Yes!... Please don't take it away.
Don't ever take it away!... Put it in me... Oh God, Yes... Put it in me!... "..
Her frenzied moans and the heavy, raspy breathing of the demented doctor concealed the sound of the laboratory door opening. And the sudden shaft of light that came and then disappeared as the door was closed again went unnoticed by either of them.
Lawrence stood there in the darkness without moving. At the first sound of the girl's pleading cries he had thought she was being tortured, and had almost rushed across the laboratory to protect her from the crazy old man. But, as he listened, he began to realize that hers were not cries of agony, but of lust! He stared intently at the two shadowed figures, the hunchbacked coated little doctor and the completely nude straining girl on the table-in the dim light he couldn't tell exactly what was happening, but he could see that the doctor was massaging her with some sort of instrument.
Then her words began to reach him as she cried out even louder. "Put it inside me... please! Oh Dear God! Please put it in me!"
His eyes began to adjust slowly and then he could see that the beautiful young girl had been stretched out on the table, her arms and legs bound, and that the old man was caressing her with some sort of vibrating instrument. He had it between her buttocks, putting it... Lawrence swallowed... why, that bloody old buzzard is screwing her with it!
The girl's cries had softened into quiet whimpering moans as she violently ground her hips against the surface of the table... slammed her pelvis again and again against the hard surface.
The tall man in the corner unconsciously began to imitate the movements of the young girl. Without even realizing that he had done it he had placed both hands between his legs, and was holding himself as he felt the heat rising relentlessly in his loins.
The pounding excitement that was racing through his body was almost unbearable as he watched the squirming girl... heard her begging voice... "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh... please... PLEASE!... I want to feel it inside of me! I WANT YOU TO fuck me with it!... "
Her last words drilled into his lust-inflamed mind -his hands jerked-and his elbow knocked over a beaker of chemicals beside him.
CRASH! The sudden sound, the clatter of broken glass, shattered the stillness like a thunderclap.
The little man spun around. Only the still-moaning voice of the young girl could be heard... and then a bellowed roar of rage as the doctor grabbed a scalpel from the tray and tore across the room at the intruder.
The slithering of his running feet, a crumpling fall... and the room was quiet.
Lawrence's mind spun. What had happened? The broken glass, the little man racing toward him, something glinting in his raised hand! The little man had fallen! Lawrence groped for the revolver clumsily... but the doctor didn't move. He waited.
Then, holding the gun shakily, he cautiously approached the crumpled heap on the floor.
There was no movement.
"Doctor... I have a gun!... I'll shoot... "
His eye caught the reflection of something on the floor... a knife. He kicked it into the corner and then he nudged the lifeless body at his feet. The little man was dead!
But... How?... a heart attack?
"OHhhhhhhhhh... what's happened?... where are you!... " Sara writhed on the table, trying to turn her head far enough to see. The noise, the heat! Oh God, where was that little man! She had to feel him again. Where is he! She could still hear that whirring sound somewhere below her. She wanted to feel it inside her.
Lawrence turned. Her moans had distracted him from the body at his feet. He watched her agonized, straining body on the table, saw the electric vibrator dangling, still going, where the doctor had let it fall. The passion in him once again ignited, the flames spreading through his body, and he moved slowly toward the sobbing girl.
Sara saw the hand reach past her face and lift the long black object that had been hanging there.
"Oh, thank God! You're back... I need you, please... I Need You! Touch me again, put it in me!" Her tortured voice screamed at him. He moved to the end of the table and lightly touched the vibrator to the soles of her feet.
"Oh yes, there it is. I can feel it, it's driving me crazy!" Her mind whirled in ecstasy. "Oh, please hurry... that's it, move it up my legs, faster... faster!"
Lawrence felt the heat flood his face, cloud his eyes, and his hands trembled uncontrollably as he ran the vibrating extension of his hand slowly up her straining thighs.
He watched her buttocks arching toward him, lifting off the table... heard her moans.
She thinks I'm that crazy old doctor, he thought. Strangely, this realization increased his lust. I can do anything I want, he mused as he moved the instrument down between her thighs.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh Yes!... move it up further!" she cried out. "Put it in me! I want it... I'M READY NOW... PUT IT IN!"
He felt himself swelling, felt his lust-thickened penis trying to burst loose from the confines of his trousers. It was beginning to hurt him, the ache increasing with the growth of his throbbing organ as it tried to break through the tightness of his pants. He edged the vibrator further between her legs, searching for the hot, tight opening that pleaded for fulfillment.
Sara felt it getting closer. "Oh yes, now!... Put it in!... " She raised her buttocks even higher, straining to make it as easy for him as possible.
It was there! It touched the quivering lips, sent violent shocks through her arching body as it brushed across the wet, curled mound of pubic hair. Oh God! Yes! He's putting it inside me! Yes... yes... yes!
She screamed. "Push it in... push it in harder!... "
With one hand the man probed deeper and deeper into the screaming girl, watching the hot, hair-lined lips of her vagina closing firmly around the delving instrument, seeming to be pulling it, sucking it even further in.
His other hand groped frantically at his trousers, yanking down the zipper, stripping them along with his shorts down his trembling legs.
Freed, his swollen penis sprung up-vibrating like the object in his other probing hand. He kicked the clothes coiled around his feet from him and moved clumsily up the table until he stood opposite her straining face.
Her hips were gyrating wildly now, raising, lowering to grip and absorb more and more of the vibrating machine... her head turned to the side she saw the thick, pulsating shaft angled pointedly out from the forest of black hair.
She kept trying to reach it with her mouth, her tongue darting out-trying to run the glistening tip across the reddened crown.
She couldn't reach it! The bonds fastening her right arm held her too tightly!
"Oh, I can't... I can't reach it... Come closer, please come closer!... "
He strained forward against the edge of the table... but, even with its great length, his swollen throbbing penis couldn't quite reach her waiting lips.
Angrily, anxiously, he stretched for the bonds holding her to the table. He removed his hand from the vibrator leaving it running, jiggling inside her, and with both hands clumsily tore at the leather straps that held her down. First, her right arm, and as it broke loose she swung awkwardly to her side... brutally grabbing the erect thickness of his prick and thrusting it greedily into her open mouth.
He undid her other hand and felt a sharp wave of pain as he pulled the throbbing shaft from the tightness of her fiercely encircling lips... he had to! He couldn't reach the straps at her ankles.
The sudden rush of blood back into her numbed arms and legs hurt horribly... a great blinding agony that slowly subsided into a constant prickling torture... then gradually began to fade. Sara screamed in pain, the screams eventually turning into sobbing cries of desire and lust.
That thing! That wonderful thing inside me is driving me out of my mind! She groped for it with her right hand, finding the cord, and then finally the delicious vibrating instrument that was giving her so much pleasure... she held it there, feeling the pulsations fill her whole being.
"Oh God... it's wonderful!... Ahhhhh... it's so hot!... so deep!... Where are you.
WHERE ARE YOU... I WANT TO TASTE YOU AGAIN! I WANT YOU IN MY MOUTH!... "
She groped blindly for him with her other hand, searching... then finding his gigantic, swollen thickness... turning completely onto her side closer to the edge of the table she pulled him to her... fastened her lips hungrily around his prick.
Her tongue lashed out, encircling the velvet smoothness, probing at the tiny opening at the tip... then her mouth opened wider, her tongue, her teeth, the soft inner walls drawing him deeper and deeper into the flaming furnace of her mouth... her hand caressing the thick-veined base of his cock and sharp fingernails dancing tantalizingly across the sparse hairs on his testicles.
Lawrence groaned in the pleasure her touch was bringing him, the immense delight of her tongue, her hot mouth. His legs had weakened so much that he needed one hand for support, but with the other he reached downward... his fingers grazing across the fullness of her breasts... the swell of her belly... until he was able to close them around her hand.
He could feel her whole arm shaking from the vibrator.
He gasped in the hot blasts of her breath that caressed his balls... crying out when his fingers finally reached the ends of hers, the wet stickiness where the black vibrating phallus entered her trembling vagina.
Confused thoughts swirled through his lust-inflamed mind. He couldn't hold off much longer. The tickling deep in his spine was increasing, threatening to boil over!
She felt his touch, his hands running over hers between her thighs. The shocking excitement when they reached the wet, open lips surrounding the instrument in her hand... probing into her, then sliding moistly out again as he reached to pinch and torture the raised bud of her swollen clitoris.
"AaaHhhhhhhhhh... Oh yes, Darling... hold me there... don't ever go away... " The words came slippery from her lips as she pulled away from his throbbing penis to cry out to him... and were shut off when she once again fiercely fastened her hot, moist mouth around him.
She jammed him further and deeper into the violent whirlpool suction of her throat... sucking harder and harder as she knew her passion was spiralling to an explosive end.
Her mind cried out... I'm cuuummming... I... I'm cuuuuummmmmiiinnng... just as she felt the first raging flood of boiling sperm break loose in her mouth... she swallowed hungrily... greedily... wanting to lose none of it... though it still spilled from the corners of her reddened lips.
Then it happened to her! Her world spinning and turning as wave after wave of back-arching desire broke over her... her legs jerking and quivering frantically... the flaming liquids flowing through her fingers.
It seemed to go on and on... ceaselessly... over and over again her body shook in uncontrollable spasms... her hand pulled the still running vibrator from her body releasing another torrent of steaming hot fluid into the curled honey-blonde mound of silken pubic hair between her legs.
The glistening black instrument fell from her limp fingers to the floor, pulling the cord from the socket and finally quieting the gentle whirring that had filled the darkened room for seemingly endless centuries.
In the deep velvet blanket of silence that fell over the two trembling figure in the darkness, there was only the sound of soft, sobbing sighs as they tried to still the mind-blinding pounding of their hearts. Each beat echoing thunderously in their ears as they slowly regained consciousness.
Lawrence was the first to rouse himself... to finally catch his breath, and he straightened shakily at the side of the table-his legs trembling in weakness.
He looked tenderly down at the still-closed eyes of the quivering girl and tried to guess her reaction when she realized that it had been he, and not the buggy old doctor, that brought her to such a threshold of passion.
She lay still, almost unconscious, with soft purring moans escaping from her parted lips.
Lawrence had never known anyone like this before in his life. Had never felt such a tremendous surge of passion before with a woman. As his eyes roamed over the gentle shadowed curves of her body, as his mind recalled the warmth and desire of her touch- he realized that at last he had found someone he could share his life with.
Since the day almost twenty years ago that he had run away from the sordid Tewksbury home of a despicable Aunt, Lawrence had found little that he could admire in women. He had in no way found more to admire in the men that he had met, had once almost ventured into homosexuality, but had found even the thought revolting.
He had always been tall and handsome for his age and had realized early in life that much of his future depended on how well he was able to erase the traces of his poverty-stricken childhood and his lack of formal education.
He had begun to fabricate a background, a well of knowledge for himself by taking one servile position after another in the homes of the very wealthy -he had watched every move, listened to every nuance of speech until he was able to duplicate their mannerisms, to speak and gesticulate as they did. He had spend night after night poring through books extending his education far past that of his contemporaries.
After years as a chauffeur in LeMans, a waiter in Porto Fino, a butler in Darmstadt and London, he now spoke French, Italian, and German as fluently as a native tongue, and English as an Oxford or Etonian graduate.
His proficiency and acquired dignity had carried him into many of the renowned estates on the Continent and his attractiveness had ultimately carried him out. Unfortunately, he had never been able to find a means of coping with the desires of the women, the wives of the men for whom he worked.
He had acceded to their demands and been caught by the husbands, and he had refused them and accordingly learned the power of a woman scorned.
Slowly, this exposure to one woman after another who destroyed his hopes, stifling him at every move he made, embittered him against ever risking a personal involvement, against ever falling in love. And, after being thwarted in every honest endeavor he had turned to more criminal ways to increase his fortune. At first, there were only instances of theft or delvings into the black markets but as he became more and more involved-offers of high payments for the disposal of certain persons came his way.
It had been this, a miraculous escape from Interpol who had been seeking him for questioning in a murder, that had brought him to the United States and the home of Abby Baines. They had met several years earlier in Paris. He, a butler there, and she a guest that had been immediately attracted by his appearance, and later by his discretion.
He had accidentally interrupted a violent love scene between a maid and a liveryman, a love scene watched intently by the hovering figure of Abby Baines. It was hours later at the cocktail party when she searched his face for a flicker of recognition that she relied his discreetness and offered him a job.
Here in the States, he was once again thrown into a situation he knew so well: the corrupted vices of the idle rich. He had watched Winston and Abby Baines, the orgies they threw, and the extremely profitable prostitution ring the woman controlled. His hatred for women, their calculating coldness had been intensified during the months that followed.
He had watched her ensnare her victims through Blackmail and drugs, had seen how easily these "victims" had adjusted, and listened to the cold scornful conversation at the end of an afternoon of entertaining.
Only one thought had driven him on, the certainty that somehow, sometime he would be able to get his hands on the money the woman had hidden away. But there had been no hint, no clue until Jill Adams had startled him with her discovery the night before.
"... OHhhhhhh... " He was shaken from his thoughts by a soft cry from the girl before him.
"Wh... where am I?... what happened...?" Her eyelids fluttered, then opened and she looked up at him.
He leaned over and turned on a dim light at the side of the table. "It's all right, Sara... I'm here."
She shook her head, trying to clear her confused thoughts. She ached all over. My God!... It's Lawrence!... He's naked!
Then she looked down at herself, at her nude body still glistening from perspiration. He raped me! God, I still hurt!... where's that horrible doctor!... They're going to kill me... he's going to kill me!.
Then her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his voice.
"... came in and the doctor was torturing you. He heard me and tried to kill me with a knife, but he must have had a heart attack. Sara, I came to set you free! I want to take you with me!
What's he saying? He's crazy! He's the man that murdered Dick... free?... I've got to get away from him. Her thoughts became clearer and she began to realize that something had happened to him, that he was talking softly and tenderly to her. She had to listen to what he was saying. Maybe if he gets me out of here, away from Abby... maybe I can escape from him and go to the police.
"Sara," he continued. "Sara, the doctor and Jill are dead, we just have to take care of the other two and then go get the money... you and me, we're rich!"
"Lawrence, what money? What are you talking about?" she had to keep him busy, make him believe that she wanted to go with him.
"Abby's money! A quarter of a million dollars! She's hidden it in the bathroom upstairs at the end of the hall, it's in a secret panel in the medicine cabinet behind the dresser with the big mirror!" He paused breathlessly. "Two-Hundred and Fifty thousand dollars! All ours!"
She stared at him, trying not to flinch as he ran his hands up and down her legs. She couldn't make him angry, she couldn't do anything to stop him from taking her out of there!
"Oh, Lawrence... you will take me away from Abby, won't you!... you've got to ..
"Sara, you don't understand. I love you." He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to him, burying his face in her hair.
Though his voice was muffled by her thick hair, his words were still clear and Sara felt a faint glimmer of hope as she listened to him.
"Of course I'm going to take you away from Abby... we're going to get rid of her... you'll never have to worry about her again."
Then he pulled his head back, holding her away from him, looking at her eyes.
"Darling," he asked softly, "you do remember making love to me, don't you?" There was a pleading tone in his voice, and Sara knew there could be only one answer.
"Oh, yes... Lawrence... of course I remember. It... it was wonderful." She spoke as passionately as she could.
He pulled her tightly against him again and ran his fingers lightly up and down her back.
"Here... lie back... on your back."
She did as he said, knowing there was no other way. She dreaded the touch of his hands.
I've got to, she thought, I've got to let him make love to me. Oh God, and he's the one that killed Dick!
She lay back, her arms outstretched and her hands clenched into fists. She tried to stop them, but before she could the teardrops trickled from the comers of her eyes.
"Sara, what is it?" then his voice hardened, "are you sad...?"
She answered quickly. "Oh no, I guess I'm just crying because I'm so happy... "
Her answer seemed to satisfy him and he began once again to stroke her softly, running his fingers lightly across her breasts and down her stomach... then he bent to pick something up from the floor.
"Darling, do you want me to massage you with this again?"
Sara looked at the strange object he had in his hands. It was long and narrow, black with a cord dangling from one end. Whatever it is, she thought, it's better than having his hands all over me.
She nodded silently.
It wasn't until he'd plugged it in and she heard the odd whirring sound that it started to bring back memories... that sound? I've heard it before, it seems to be drilling into my head! What is it?.
Then he laid it gently on her stomach... and she felt the vibrations!
"OHhhhhhhhhhhh!" the moan burst from her lips before she could stop it. I remember... there was... there was someone holding that thing against me... in me!... it must have been Lawrence... I'm so ashamed.
It was slowly coming back to her... everything that had happened. Her head twisted violently from side to side as she tried to drive the memories from her mind.
Lawrence only smiled as he climbed onto the table beside her. He thought her movements came from pleasure rather than anguish. On his side, leaning on an elbow, he began to caressingly run the vibrator slowly up and down the valley between her breasts... lightly across the erectile nipples.
Sara felt wave after wave of prickling sensation run through her body. She wanted to tell him to stop... no, she didn't want him to stop... no... the flood of memories of several moments before wafted through her mind... the lust-quenched fire ignited again involuntarily inside her belly.
Her back arched away from the table, her buttocks lifting as he ran it gently across the curve of her thigh and down her leg... then back up again.
God! It feels so good! Like a thousand hands touching me at once! Ahhhhhh... when it touches me between the legs it drives me crazy... my leg, run it over my thigh... that's it... back!... put it back!.
She reached down frantically with her hands, reaching for him, trying to get him to hold it there, to just let it rest on the tousled mound of golden hair... with her hands she held it, feeling it send millions of jolting shocks through her arched body... making every curled hair vibrate like a plucked violin string!
What's so hot against my leg, something's burning me! She reached to brush it away, only to have her hand find the throbbing heat of his swollen, pulsating penis pressing against her... she grabbed it hungrily, squeezing it, rolling it in her hand, though her fingers barely fit around it.
Bracing himself, the butler sat up, her hand loosing its hold and moved to straddle her breasts with his head facing her feet. She slid her hand around his leg and then back between them so she could once again grasp his heated prick in her fingers.
He sat, raised high on his knees, and with both hands on the vibrator began to move it slowly, caressingly down into the shadowed softness of her inner thighs, touching the soft pink lips hidden in the downiness of the silken mound and then moving it away further down her legs.
"AAaaaaahhhhhhh... you're driving me insane!" Her moans blended into the quit buzzing of the phallic instrument.
She groped for him with her other hand, encircling him an drawing him backward... moving him til the huge reddened shaft was only inches from her face. Then she pulled him down until, finally, her lips were able to close around its flaming heat... she ran her tongue up and down its swollen length, sensing the pulsing veins rise and fall beneath her tongue. Raising her head, she pulled one tightened testicle, then the other, into her mouth.
Closing her lips around the tautly stretched skin... and then releasing them as she brought her head again to the inflamed crown of his thickened cock.
She felt him moving the vibrator back up the inside of her straining thighs, and as he did, she raised them, bending her knees and bringing her feet up closer to the rounded mounds of her buttocks... The whole of her open crotch was exposed to his gaze.
This time though, instead of feeling the vibrations against the hot wetness of her vaginal lips, she felt it move lower, under her... until it nestled against the tightened circle of her anus.
She felt him hold it there, quivering violently between the cheeks of her buttocks... tearing at the sensitive puckered opening.
"Oh My God! Yes!" She moved her lips to cry out to him, "AHhhhhaaaaa... Ooooooooh... Yesssss. Ram it deeper in my ass! Deeperrrrr!
He shoved it hard, sinking it far inside her straining rectum.
Then he was kissing her! His lips burning deep into her entire being... his tongue probing the soft inner lips of her vagina... then darting out to curl around the erect sensitivity of her hardened clitoris.
Doesn't he know what he's doing to me... I can't stand it! Oh, lick me harder, deeper! God I can feel his tongue inside my soul... Desire and passion spun through her, turning like all the sands of time in the vortex of a great whirlwind... I'm going crazy... why doesn't he stop.
Then her lips and mouth ceased their furious suction as she broke away to cry out... "Fuck me... FUCK ME!... Oh yes... TURN AROUND AND FUCK ME!... "
Her words echoed from the walls of the laboratory, but he didn't move. She had locked her thighs so tightly against his head that he couldn't even hear her. He stayed, his hands gripped beneath her buttocks, holding the muffled pounding of the vibrator far up in her rectum... his tongue buried deep in her hot, wet pussy... "Now!... NOW!" she screamed completely out of control. "Oh God, Now!"
She reached brutally for his hair... pulling his head back.
"Turn Around!" she screamed. "Please... please... make love to me."
Awkwardly, he tried to obey her. He was so inflamed, so fiercely excited, that he seemed to have no control over his body. Struggling and fighting to keep from falling over the edge of the table, he finally turned himself around... at last getting his hips between her legs... the vibrator slipped noisily from between her wide-stretched buttocks with a slight plopping noise.
She reached down frantically for his huge, thickened prick... grabbing it... guiding him in.
There was no obstruction, no hesitation as he plunged deep into her belly to the very hilt so that their pubic hair mingled and intertwined. She had been so ready, so hot and moist, that even with its great size, his swollen penis slid in easily.
Her legs straining, she raised her hips violently, trying to swallow, to engulf every throbbing inch of him in her hungry clasping cunt.
Oh my God, he's so big!... so hot!
She writhed and revolved urgently beneath him... he tried to follow her frantic rhythm... trying to meet her hips as they rose to him.
The straining, maddened girl stretched her arms downward, her palms flat... trying to raise her hips even higher... then her fingers touched the sleek black smoothness of the vibrator still trembling beneath her buttocks on the table.
She brought her legs higher and higher up until he moved his arms and she was able to lock her calves over his shoulders.
Bent almost completely double, she felt him pounding furiously and deeply into her... the tremendous waves of burning heat as he came down, deeper and deeper into the rising urgency of her opened pussy.
She wrapped her fingers around the vibrator and moved it up to the splayed cheeks of her ass... further up until it touched his prick as it drove into her... holding it there, against his balls... then back down again to the puckered opening of her rectum.
Slowly, she began to ease it into her anus... great shocks spreading through her as it seemed to be moving deeper of its own accord... the tormenting vibrations filling her whole body with spilling waves of indescribable ecstasy.
She held it there. Almost six inches of the black quivering phallus buried far inside her... but its pleasure was not for her alone.
Lawrence had almost fainted when he felt her touch him... his prick, his balls... with the tortuous instrument... but it was nothing like the excruciating sensations he was now experiencing.
Each time he drove himself deeply into her, his prick brushed the whole length of the sunken vibrator, separated only by the paper-thin wall of flesh, the narrow, hot membrane dividing the two openings of her body down between her legs.
Great, heaving moans burst from his lips each time he touched the quivering instrument.
He tried to hold still, to leave himself buried in her, but it was too much... he couldn't stand it! The vibrations drove him mad, and he insanely increased the pounding, thrusting of his hips, trying to avoid the delicious torture of the vibrator, and then returning, addicted to it!
Brilliant flashes of light began exploding in his brain, his mind oblivious to everything except the raging climax that was building furiously in his loins... The dam deep within him was overflowing bursting... crumbling.
"Aaaaahhhhhhhhrrrgggghh!... I'm cuuuuummmmmiinngg!" Her scream incited the brutal spasms in his body... "Ohhhhh... Lawrence!... now... now!... NOW!... "
They arched and strained in great, sweeping throes of ecstasy, pounding violently against each other... then curving, reaching, then rising in one tremendous arc as everything in them exploded in a final flash of blinding white light... they lay trembling and quivering against each other in the sudden quietness.
EPILOGUE
The darkened living room was dead silent, except for the crackling of the logs in the fireplace.
Then an eerie, elongated shadow moved across one wall and stopped.
Cowering behind the protecting sheltering back of the couch, Winston Baines tried to still the thunderous pounding in his ears. He was sure his wife had heard the booming beat of his heart and he waited frantically to see if the weird shadow moved toward him. The trembling little man crouched in the darkness bore no resemblance to man who hours earlier had been the overlord of several huge corporations, the confident husband of the woman who was now stalking him.
He was naked. Great weals and welts stripping his back and shoulders, and droplets of blood oozing from the scratches on his face and thighs.
There were welling beads of perspiration glistening on his forehead as he cringed in the dark shadow of the couch, trying again to comprehend the monstrous change in his wife.
He had been sitting on the couch when she had come over to him and known something was wrong even then. She had looked so strange, so disheveled, her eyes so wild... and she had started to run her fingers slowly and sensuously through his hair.
She had never touched him so softly, so wantonly during all the years they had been married. She had always been so coldly aloof and distant. During the few times they had made love she had lain motionless until he had rolled away, and then gotten up wordlessly to leave him.
But today. Today she had held him tenderly, at first anyway, moaning quietly and sexily in his ears. Nibbling at him. And when he had reached for her, she had slid readily across the arm of the couch into his arms.
He recalled the sudden desire he had felt as she lay there, burrowing her squirming buttocks into his lap. His hands had ached to touch her, to cup and caress the exposed breasts before him, but he had hesitated. She never liked to be touched. Pawed, as she called it.
Then, surprisingly, she had taken both his hands and placed them on her breasts and as he felt her nipples harden, she had lifted her breasts, raising them, offering them to his kiss.
Even when he had heard those loud noises in the other room and wanted to investigate, she wouldn't let him. Pulling his head down, she had run her tongue around the sensitive innerside of his ears as he kissed her nipples.
Then she had begun to undo his shirt, slapping his hand away when he tried to help. She had coaxed him onto the soft carpet before the fire and completely undressed him. His mind had whirled in the luxury of an attentive wife, and he had searched for an explanation, for a reason why she had changed so toward him. There had been none that he could think of, unless it had been the drinks. It couldn't have been. He'd seen her drink anyone under the table, including him.
Finally, he'd given up wondering and had lain back unquestioningly to enjoy the unexpected pleasure of his new wife.
She stood up, gracefully stripping for him, and then knelt again to his side.
She had reached between his legs, squeezing and caressing him until he had hardened and then taken him in her mouth! Even now, as he remembered he couldn't believe it.
She had kissed him, sucking at him, until he had pleaded with her to stop. But she had told him no, that she wanted to tasted him as he came into her mouth. In moments he had, in a great hot flood of passion.
He remembered lying back, still trembling... reveling in the satisfaction and pleasure he felt.
And then, though his ardor had disappeared as she had licked the last drop of desire from him, he had followed her touch and knelt between her legs to kiss her. He had been determined to return the pleasure she had so generously given him and he had kissed and tongued her for what had seemed to be hours... until she had finally cried out, arching toward him, quivering.
He had rested there in front of the fire feeling very pleased with himself. It had been the first time he had ever been able to make her reach a climax.
But, she hadn't stopped! Almost immediately, she had grabbed him again... hurting him... he wasn't ready.
The rest had been a horrible nightmare. She had screeched at him, screaming and hitting him... then she had pleaded and begged. But he hadn't been able to... he couldn't get another erection.
He had tried... tried everything... but she kept hitting him, clawing him.
Finally, he had been able to knock her away from him, but before he had been able to get out of the room she had started to get up again, looking around for him, screaming filthy obscenities.
In her rage, she hadn't seen him right away and he had been able to duck behind this couch.
He'd been there for almost an hour, watching in fear and horror as she stood in the middle of the room masturbating, all the time calling for him... calling him horrible names.
Winston crouched there, his mind in a turmoil, trying to figure some way to get away from his lust-crazed wife, blinking his eyes, trying to find the shadow he had been watching.
Without it I've lost her! Where is she... He never saw her. Never heard the swishing sound of the fire poker as it crushed his skull.
But in death, the little man almost got his revenge. Because as he fell he hit her, knocking her backwards towards the fire.
The maddened woman jumped away before the flimsy gown she was wearing burst entirely into flames, and raced stumbling for the door to the laboratory... never noticing the tiny tongue of fire that was licking at one hidden fold.
The door burst open! A sudden shaft of dim light washing across the couple on the table.
They turned quickly at the noise to see a weird flaming silhouette framed in the doorway. Motionless at first, except for the head that kept jerking back and forth trying to find them... then she saw them!
"MY God!... It's Abby!" Lawrence shouted, as she came racing toward them.
He rolled from the table as Sara fell to the floor. He ran to the side of the room frantically.
"Sara!... My pants... find my pants!" he screamed as he tried to dodge the poker the woman was swinging at him. "My gun's in my pants! For God's Sake, Sara!... "
He stumbled, fell from the blows that rained upon his shoulders. He crawled crab-like across the floor, trying to escape the berserk, burning woman.
"Sara... FIND MY PANTS... THE GUN!"
There! Sara saw them. They were crumpled near the end of the table. Scurrying beneath the table she finally reached them and frantically dug for the revolver.
"Sara... SLIDE IT TO ME!... UHhhhhhh!" The woman stood over him, swinging the metal rod like an axe, the thudding of it filling the room as she hit him in the back, on the head.
Sara pulled the gun free and slid it across the floor to him just as the poker descended once more... knocking him unconscious.
The flames swirling around her, her hair on fire, the crazed woman stood above his motionless body for a moment and then turned, looking for Sara!
She ran amuck in the laboratory... in circles as burning bits of cloth fell behind her, bursting into brightly glowing flames in the spreading pools of chemicals from bottles and beakers broken by the wildly swinging poker.
Screaming in pain, blooded in lust, she swung the iron rod at everything in sight, as if the frantic girl could be hiding behind a jar of chemicals.
Then she saw her!
She came roaring across the room toward Sara! With superhuman strength she overturned the table, knocking the crouching girl helplessly on her back.
Sara looked up, her hands crossed across her tear-stained face, and saw the flaming spectre above her, hideous laughs coming within the circle of fiery hair!
Her agonized mind saw the upraised arms, waited for the crushing blow... and just barely heard the dull explosion as the woman fell across her.
Her senses recoiled at the odor of seared flesh, the pain of fire... violently she thrust the heavy quivering body from her and scrambled sideways... away from the still burning hair!
Then, she heard the dull clatter and turned just in time to see the revolver drop from Lawrence's hand as he died.
The whole laboratory was belching flames and acrid smoke as more and more spilled chemicals caught fire.
Sara stumbled blindly through the smoke toward the door, finally reaching it. Frantically she lifted the bar and swung it open in a great whooosh of flame.
She stood in the clear, sunlit air, beside the grey Rolls-Royce, crying softly in relief and exhaustion. She leaned against the fender for a few short moments, hearing the mournful sound of sirens approaching somewhere in the vague distance. Somehow she struggled into the car and finding the keys in place started it down the highway. Even in her dazed and battered condition she knew she couldn't be found here. She would never be able to explain all that had happened and even if she could they would never believe her. Tears streamed down her face as she drove. There was nothing left, nowhere to go. What would she do?
And then, as though a memory from a far distant life she had lived before, one that had no connection with the horrible reality she was now enmeshed in, a voice trickled slowly through her tortured brain:... in the upstairs bathroom at the end of the hall... a secret panel in the medicine cabinet behind the dresser with the big mirror... a quarter of a million dollars! And... now she knew what life was all about... and... that amount of money could buy an awful lot of life.
