It is with immense pride that we, The Publishers, introduce The Promiscuous Roommate, by Allen Chase. It has been a long time since one woman's climb to position and the exorbitant price she paid for success have been portrayed so honestly, so fearlessly, and with such deep penetrating wisdom.
This is not the first time that the theme of ambition has been used as the basis of a novel. There have been many books based on this topic in the past. Yet, we feel that the pages presented herein portray a unique situation: here, a woman is shown denying morality for the sake of success, and we witness her downfall in painful detail as though we, ourselves, had encountered her in real life. With unflagging truthfulness and frankness, The Promiscuous Roommate outlines the sacrifices of personal relationships that Jill Marlin must make in order to gain a privileged position at the publishing company where she is employed. We witness the slow disintegration of her values, and watch as her peers, many of whom have already undergone the same frightful Faustian transformation, contribute to her demise.
If there is a moral message in this book, it lies beneath the superstructure of the corporate world which Mr. Chase depicts with such startling candor. In the midst of big business transactions, the individual no longer seems to have the power nor the will to assert himself, preferring to make ethical compromises for the sake of overweening ambition, rather than to act according to conscience. The central metaphor or symbol in this work is, of course, the machine, which seems to have co-opted the "human" in human beings and bent it to some inscrutable technological will of its own. Wilbur Kinsby, the strange reclusive publisher, embodies the identity of this machine-culture, illustrated in almost graphic Freudian detail, and through his actions shows the phenomena of transference of sexuality from the physical body to a mindless object.
All the other characters have become, without knowing it, cogs in the great corporate wheel, symbolized by Kinsby's sex-machine. The only function as long as they serve and are manipulated efficiently by the machine. When they are no longer attractive, or no longer fit the company's "image" they are thrown out into the cold, as happens to Randi Jordan.
In an age where the race for success and the concomitant problems this wild scramble for power presents to those who are either caught up in the struggle or are trampled by those who charge inexorably forward, this novel contains a message of universal importance. Sex, once a loving act of mutual tenderness between consenting partners, becomes a game of corporate chess, and the pawns, as unlikely as it may seem, are all of us.
We welcome Mr. Chase's candid portrayal of the dilemmas faced by a large segment of our society. Because he has chosen characters with whom most of us can identify, we are also grateful for the sympathy and compassion of his presentation.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
"There is no fourteenth floor, Miss," The short elevator boy cast a leering glance at the petite, shapely brunette stepping into the lift.
Jill Marlin looked from the acned face of the boy to the row of elevator buttons on the aluminum-corrugated wall of the elevator. Soft Musak was pumped through a ventilation slot behind the bellboy, and seemed to resound from the top of his blue Phillip Morris cap.
"I want to go to the fourteenth floor," she repeated, shifting her. hands nervously from her pocketbook to her small luggage case.
She was glad she'd brought all her things in the elevator with her, as she'd heard so many stories about thefts in New York. Besides, she would have felt almost naked without the two suitcases she'd been traveling with by bus and plane all day. Now, as the obscene little bellboy appraised her full, firm breasts while he tried to joke with her, she felt a sudden desire to break into a hot flush of tears.
"Ain't you new in this building, Miss?" the boy said matter-of-factly as the elevator began its ascent.
"This is my first day in New York." She was still out of breath.
"You need any pointers, you know the fella to come to. I know this goddamn city like the back of my hand."
"Thank you, but I think I'll do just fine on my own," she nervously replied, trying to pull as far across the small rising cubicle as possible, still feeling the lewdly searching glance of the boy's eyes burning up and down her body.
"That's what they all say," the lift slowed down and the doors opened and closed again. It was the fifth floor; they still had nine more to go. The boy dropped his eyes from the provocatively jutting twin peaks of her breasts to Jill's miniskirted thighs. "It ain't too long until most chicks get to feeling lonely, and then ol' slim Jimmy," he laughed hoarsely, "goes into action!"
A heavy weight seemed to drop into Jill's tensed, tight little belly. Suddenly, it was the fourteenth floor and she was stepping from the elevator, wondering if she should tip the boy, but he was following her down the hall, mumbling beneath his breath.
"You living in with Randi?" he dropped her bags at the end of the hall, turning to her.
"Femme Magazine arranged this place for me. I'm supposed to have a roommate." She waited anxiously for him to unlock the door.
"That's Randi, all right," he fumbled in his pocket for a master-set of keys. "She's a winner, a real goddamn winner."
He flung the door open and moved ahead of the petite brunette into the living room.
"It's a lovely apartment," Jill said, relieved, though she hadn't actually looked around.
"If ya don't mind... " the bellboy stood across from her, his eyes taking in the lush curves of her youthfully voluptuous body, "I gotta go. Normally, I don't do no porter work."
Jill was dropping her handbag to the couch and then raising the drawn blinds to let some light from the park into the modernistically-furnished living room.
"I said," the small uniformed figure came up behind her, "normally I don't do no porter work!"
She turned, jerking back as she inadvertently bumped into the slight figure whose face came within short eye level distance of her firm cantalouped breasts.
"I suppose you want a tip. That's what you're waiting for, isn't it?" she said, abstracted for a moment.
"I get a buck-fifty an hour. That don't include favors," he said smugly.
"How much do you usually get?"
"I take anything. I ain't particular," he shrugged.
Jill fumbled in her purse and found a quarter. She gave it to the boy and waited for him to depart, but he just stood there, his limpid brown eyes glued to her curvaceous young body. "You know what that gets me in New York?" he looked down at the coin in his hand. "It might pay for half a cup of coffee!"
She fished another quarter from her handbag. "This should be enough. I haven't even started work yet. I really don't have much money," she smiled courteously.
"You ever met Randi?" the boy slouched against the door.
"No. Is she nice?" Jill fidgeted uncomfortably, waiting for him to leave.
"That ain't the proper description," he grinned lecherously. "She's a real swinger. When Randi's not working she'll either be down at the singles' bars on Third Avenue, or up here having herself a time."
"How do you know all this?"
The boy thrust his thumbs into his lapel.
"Word gets around. I got a sharp eye for details. You notice a lot when you work the elevators." Jill's head ached and her body was yearning for a cool, soothing bath, but for some reason the boy wouldn't go. She wanted to tell him to leave, but her reserved, mid-western temperament just wouldn't permit her to be quite that rude. He stood slackly by the door, making a quick reappraisal of her body, and then glanced across the wide carpeted living room to the window overlooking Central Park.
"You and Randi should get along real well. She'll teach ya things ya couldn't learn any place else," he said in a lewd, insinuating voice.
Jill dropped to the sofa across the room from him. "Would it be too much to ask you to leave?" she said weakly. "I'm really bushed from the plane ride!"
"At your service," he saluted, and turned into the hallway.
Jill breathed a sigh of relief, but suddenly, he was at the open door again. "If there's anything ya need, just give me a call. Ask for Jimmy, all the broads know me by my first name."
The attractive brunette smiled limply as he pirouetted around and went whistling tunelessly down the hall. She rose from the couch and closed the door, feeling a rush of cool relaxation flow through her at last. The trip from Minneapolis had been trying, with three connecting flights and buses she'd taken. It was her first real venture away from her mid-western home, and the anxiety she'd felt at the outset of her journey had worn off into fatiguing listlessness now that she'd finally reached her destination.
To make matters worse, throughout the trip she'd been ogled at and propositioned by one man after another, until she thought she'd break out into a desperate scream just to make those obscene-looking men stop bothering her. She'd never been aware how lecherous the world seemed to be. It was almost as though there was a plot by the entire male population of the United States to seduce her... or, at least, to make her feel humiliated by the lust-inciting voluptuousness of her lithe young body.
As she'd spent most of her adolescence and college years in West Lake, Minnesota, she really wasn't prepared for the sudden change of going to New York to begin a job as a secretary for a Manhattan woman's magazine. Yet, she knew she had no choice other than to make a clean break from the past if she were to be more independent from her mother and older brother, who had insisted she attend college at the small community school at West Lake.
Jill smiled to herself as she entered the bathroom and began drawing a tub of water. She thought less and less of her brother, Franky, and her mother as the hours elapsed since they'd seen her off at the airport. She had an exciting job beginning tomorrow morning and a new roommate to meet within the hour.
The girl slipped quickly from her clothes and set them on a dressing table by the tub, then turned to the full length bathroom mirror and let her eyes fall on the reflected image of her lovely young body.
The fluorescent bathroom light reflected against her creamily smooth complexion and glowed in the girl's cascading blue-black hair that framed her pretty heart-shaped face. The soft light shone on her nipples and seemed to catch and dance on the smoothly uplifting orbs of her large full breasts.
Jill turned to the side, casting an admiring glance at her voluptuous profile. She looked down to her tautly smooth stomach and the girlish arc of her slender hourglass waist, her eyes resting on her flaring hips, then tracing a casual path across her long curving thighs down to slim, well-formed calves that tapered to thin, delicate ankles. She stood poised like this for a moment, her classically sculpted young woman's body catching the soft pink reflection of bathroom tile in the mirror and exuding a luxuriant glow of good health and youthfully ripe female sexuality all its own.
Jill blushed and turned from the mirror, then padded barefoot to the tub.
The bath was half-filled, and she sat down on its edge and lit a cigarette from the pack she'd left on the dressing table. Sometimes she felt uneasy and somewhat disturbed about her good looks and wished that she had not been endowed with such a lushly ripened body; it just didn't match up with her reserved personality. Her cool slate-blue eyes did match, she thought, yet even then she had been told they too were beautiful and that her dainty, almost classical Greek nose and full ripe mouth with its lower lips protruding slightly in an almost perpetual little girl pout added to the sensuously teasing picture that had caused her so much trouble on the flight this afternoon.
She hoped it wouldn't create problems for her at Stewart Publications, although she felt a tantalizing little shudder when she thought of the vicarious fun she might have in showing herself off the first day in the office. She knew what made a difference to men and in college had shyly come to realize that a show of smooth white thigh or a flirtatious smile to a professor wouldn't hurt in getting the A or B she desired. She wondered now if office work would require the same subtly compromising attitudes from her. Dropping with a slight splash into the deliciously cool water, and looking through the shimmering suds she had made with bubble bath, the rose-tipped nipples of her breasts almost seemed to answer Jill's question.
She slid down on the curving tile-bottomed tub, her head resting on the porcelain-smooth siding, and raised her legs so that the "vee" up between her thighs was exposed, black and silky, through the sudsy water. Her hand wandered of its own accord over the gently uplifted breasts, down across her submerged, white little belly to the softness of her pubic mound; her fingers pressed at it for a teasing moment, circling in a smooth oval over the hair-lined cuntal lips, and then slid down to caress her firm full thighs.
It was something she'd learned to do to relax herself at college, and although she'd known there was nothing wrong with touching her vagina to achieve sensual satisfaction, she still had some puritanical hang-ups about it. It was better than losing her virginity, she guessed, but even that seemed doubtful to Jill Marlin now... times were changing quickly, and she knew fewer and fewer girls her age who hadn't parted with their virginity with an enthusiasm that was almost shocking to the restrained young girl.
It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to make love to her former boy friend she'd left behind in West Lake... there was certainly more to it than that. Perhaps, because of her judicious, clear-headed nature, she'd held off when a totally passionate response to Bill Sorensen had been what was called for.
As she ran the washcloth over the smooth curves of her body, her mind wandered back over the ups and downs of their relationship. Often in compromise she would let him reach under her sweater, unfasten her brassiere and massage her exposed breasts while they were petting in the living room of her mother's darkened house. Once, after her brother and mother had gone out for the evening, Bill had caressed her breasts into a warmly tingling hardness, had taken one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked. The gentle licking of his tongue around it had nearly driven her crazy, and the girl had hardly noticed when his hand slipped under her skirt and begun moving up between the cream-like whiteness of her thighs.
She recalled now how she had frozen, her hands clenched down against his stone-like chest at that moment. There were just some things she couldn't permit Bill to do until she felt prepared to accept some of the more animalistic aspects of sex. It was not that she didn't respond. Far from it! Jill slid the washcloth up over her hips and then down softly through the water, until it covered the raven-black shield of pubic hair spanning in a small enticing triangle over the sheath of her vagina.
She smiled now as she thought of that first passionate night last summer with Bill on the living room couch. His hands kept stroking at her, roving the full length of her lush young body over the smooth plane of her belly and down to the panty covered softness of her pussy hair. It had felt just the way her fingers caressing gently at her cuntal mound felt now, but she had squirmed, trying to pull away from his relentlessly searching hand, though it had been useless.
Finally, Bill had wormed his outstretched middle finger beneath the tight elastic leg band of her panties and found her warmly moist vaginal slit. His searching finger had caused a heated tingling sensation she had never experienced before, and she had pushed her buttocks down on the couch in an effort to escape, but that seemed to have driven Bill on further.
Even now the memory of that night, innocent as it seemed in reflection, sent chills of quivering pleasure mixed with an odd repugnance through her spine. She had protested, but he'd paid no attention to her; and she recalled the metallic sound of his zipper being released and the sudden sensation of his hotly throbbing penis against her naked thigh.
That had been the first time she had ever experienced the touch of a man's cock and it had momentarily alarmed her... still alarmed her when she thought about it, as there had been few times during this summer when she and Bill had been so close. She had pulled away, but then his hands had rushed to her own, thrusting them around his massively pulsating flesh and forcing them to pull up and down on the long thick shaft. Then his finger had inserted itself part way in her moistly quivering cunt, and he had been encouraged by the warm wetness that dampened the dark shading of pubic hair around her slightly swollen cuntal lips.
In an instant he had pulled down his slacks, and she recalled now the huge profile of his erect cock seen for the first time in the moonlight seeping through the living room windows. She remembered how he had risen over her and gently but firmly pulled her vainly resisting young thighs apart, then thrust the blunted, lust-swollen head beside the partially open leg band of her panties until the heatedly pulsating tip rested on the outer flanges of her pussy. He had pressed her fingers around his hardened shaft again; without thinking, she had adjusted her panties so that her hand fit entirely around the rigidly growing rod of hot flesh and she guided it up toward her moistly quivering little vaginal opening...
Jill swirled the washcloth around her cuntal split, splashing water in gentle waves against her thighs as she remembered him digging his single outstretched finger into her vagina while his long thick cock lay close beside, and she recalled how she had lurched back in sudden fear when he stretched the fragile ring of her still intact hymen. He had been hunched up halfway on top of her, and then he had suddenly tried to roll completely over her. But she had clamped her thighs tightly together, trapping his rigid shaft of flesh between them, as the thick male organ had inadvertently slipped from the warmly moistened threshold of her pussy. Bill eagerly pushed forward again, struggling to get the lust-swollen tip into the opening of her wetly cringing cunt. Just as he had managed to reinsert the head under the leg band of her panties, she felt the hotly pulsating penis begin to throb spasmodically out of control. Then she had felt a hot wetness flood over her already matted pubic hair and cover her thighs with its thick spewing whiteness.
Jill stopped moving the cloth around her loins now, fearing her excitement from these memories of the last days with Bill before the end of the summer. It was enough that she'd made up her mind to break up with him; she had decided there was no use trying to recapture what had passed between them, when what had happened was more like an initiation into womanhood than the indelible and as yet unexperienced act of love making itself.
She stood up in the tub, stepped down onto the soft bath matting in the center of the room, and began toweling herself dry.
Suddenly, she heard a voice.
"Hello... " the high pitched sound came from the living room. "Jill Marlin?... I'm Randi Jordan."
"Just a moment!" Jill cried, and hurriedly she massaged herself dry and stepped into her bathrobe.
"Take your time, honey. There's no need to rush," the voice was warm and friendly, coming now directly outside the door.
The young brunette stood before the full length mirror and quickly brushed out her hair over her smooth sloping shoulders and tightened the belt around her waist, adjusting the front of it to fit snugly across the jutting contours of her breasts. Jill was understandably nervous at meeting the girl she'd be living with and working with for the next few months, and she wished somehow she'd waited to take her bath until after Randi had arrived.
She opened the bathroom door and went into the adjoining living room.
Randi stood at the center of the white-carpeted room, a cigarette in hand, her long platinum-blonde hair flowing in a silvery halo of whiteness over her back.
"Hello, roommate," the girl smiled brightly. "I'm sorry if I interrupted your bath."
"It's all right; I was just relaxing. It was a tiring trip," Jill said, drawing her hands across the front of her robe.
"A drink should help unwind you," the blonde said, moving briskly across the living room to a liquor cabinet beside the low-set leather padded couch.
"That would be nice," Jill said, dropping into a form-fitting vinyl chair behind Randi.
"I suppose you know most of the junk about Femme Magazine," the tall, voluptuously well-proportioned blonde said, removing a decanter of Scotch from the small bar.
"I received a letter from Mr. Johnson. He said the magazine is a woman's information outlet," Jill said.
"Exactly," Randi turned slightly from the bar. "We're mainly interested in promoting women's consumer items... or, bluntly speaking, advertising for the women's market. Occasionally we'll throw in an interesting article on Women's Lib or something, but we're pretty heavy on the promotion angle."
Randi poured two jiggers of Scotch into tumblers she'd set out on a tray and clinked some ice cubes into the glasses. The girl was a few years older than Jill, and her tall, ripely matured body possessed a self-assurance and smooth feminine grace that Jill found almost threatening. And yet, there was an outgoing warmth to her personality that offset the brazen, sex-kittenish quality of her movements. Although the young brunette felt nervous at their first encounter, Randi had obviously mastered the sophisticated pleasantries that one acquired after living in New York. There was a sensual ease about her that Jill had rarely seen in the college girls she knew back in Minnesota.
"We won't talk about the job now," Randi said, coming up beside Jill and handing her a drink. "There'll be enough of that during the coming week."
Randi sat down on the arm rest of the couch facing the pretty young brunette and looked at her. She appraised Jill's body in the chair in front of her as though she were evaluating a new object of furniture that had been suddenly thrust into her living room. But then her expression softened. She smiled and drew on her drink. "How was the plane trip?"
"Just ghastly," Jill sighed, relieved to have the silence broken. "I was never more aware of how many lecherous men there are in the world. I must have had at least a dozen propositions between Minneapolis and New York."
"You're a pretty girl," Randi's eyes danced over Jill's long lithe legs.
"I didn't mean that," Jill defended, "not that I'm pretty. I think they would have attempted it with anyone who looked the least vulnerable."
"Perhaps that's part of your charm," the blonde slid one hand down her snugly fitting summer sweater to her smooth tightly skirted thigh. "And being vulnerable, as you say, can get you into a helluva lot of trouble in New York."
Jill sipped on her drink. "I know. I met the elevator boy on the way up to the apartment."
"Jimmy! He's a joke. He's absolutely harmless," Randi cried. "It's those cool operators you've got to watch for. They'll make you feel completely at ease one moment, and the next they'll have their hand down your dress!"
A tiny shudder raced down the length of Jill's spine. There was something cheap and vaguely dime-storish about Randi Jordan which had burst out suddenly, but then was buried beneath her glittering surface charm. Her wide-set hazel-colored eyes narrowed and then grew large, tracing a suggestive path across the robe pulled tautly over Jill Marlin's full rounded breasts.
"I wouldn't let these things bother you," she smiled softly. "Living in New York is more fun than it's trouble. I'll show you the ropes. You can learn a few things from me," Randi said, retrieving Jill's glass. "I'll make us two more of these."
Jill looked around the spacious living room, accustoming herself to her new surroundings. The magazine had certainly set the place up in fine style, the young dark-haired girl thought. Beside the plush low-set sofa was a stereo set modeled out of expensive-looking oak panels with two large speakers radiating in an oval design from either side. The room was furnished in a mixture of modern styles, the vinyl butterfly chairs, and the lush white carpeting contrasting with the bright primary color abstract paintings hung on the wall above the couch. The large ceiling length windows looked out on the gathering twilight of Central Park, beyond which Jill could see the glittering lights of Manhattan shining like emerald stars in the distance.
"Here's to us," Randi Jordan raised her drink and handed the brunette her refill, "and to your new career in New York!"
Jill drank, feeling the warm soothing substance bum pleasantly down her throat. "I'd hardly call working as a secretary a career," she laughed.
"That's the way most of the girls I know got into the business," Randi did a small turn on the floor in front of her. "It's the best angle I can think of. You have the opportunity to test yourself and see whether you like the world of business or not. There are lots of distasteful things about the rat race, you know."
"I don't understand," Jill sat up in her chair. "In every outfit, even a woman's magazine, there are men to deal with. Some nice, some not so nice. But you be sure all of them are after the same thing."
Jill's face crimsoned over. "Are they that open about it?"
"In our office you'll run into some real ass chasers!" Randi Jordan walked in a small half-circle in front of the younger girl, "but I don't think you'll have much trouble if you let them know where you stand right off the bat." In spite of herself, Jill was beginning to like her new roommate. As they talked she found the racy language Randi used was more a part of her relaxed style than something that revealed a moral flaw in her nature. They had another drink, and chatted about themselves. Jill talked about her interest in literature which had begun years ago in high school, and of her interest to do something "creative" in writing or publishing. Randi shared some of her own personal experiences with the brunette from Minnesota.
"Somehow, I got sidetracked," the blonde said from the sensuously reclining position she'd gotten into on the couch. "It happened imperceptibly, I guess. I know I've changed.
When I first came to New York I was filled with the same ambitions you have."
"What happened?"
"I don't know. I still have the ambition, but now I'm frankly hunting for a husband. The literary part of it is secondary."
Jill laughed, and brushed a jet-black strand of hair from across her cheek. "I think I'd better be turning in. After all, tomorrow is my first day on the job."
Randi stood up. "My God, I haven't even shown you your room. I suppose you thought you were going to sleep on the carpet."
"I assumed there was something more to the apartment," Jill laughed.
Randi Jordan led the way down a darkened hallway extending from the far side of the living room past two closed doors and then switched on a light.
"Voila, the bedroom," she smiled, pushing the door open wide to let Jill past.
"It's lovely," the curvaceous blonde exclaimed. The room was pleasantly decorated with a large king sized double bed, two chairs and a writing table. Above the bed hung another brightly colored abstract painting.
"I hope you don't mind my eccentric tastes in art," the Jordan girl smiled, moving toward the door. "The masterpieces are relics from an affair I had with a painter two years ago. I hear he's doing quite well now. I saw an exhibit of his advertised in the Times only a month ago."
"I like it, but I really can't say I understand it," Jill shrugged.
"Darling," Randy smiled as she closed the door halfway and stepped into the hall, "I don't even know if the artist knew what the hell he was doing. But that's an old story. See you in the morning."
Jill smiled, dropping onto the soft mattress as Randi pushed the door behind her and said good night.
Without switching off the light, Jill lay down in the center of the large double bed and closed her eyes for a moment. She remembered she'd left her luggage in the living room and made a mental note to retrieve the suitcases. But overpowering exhaustion suddenly overcame her, more profound now after the drinks she'd consumed with Randi, and within minutes she drifted into a welcome sleep.
It was some time after midnight she was awakened by sounds coming from the hallway. She'd been sleeping deeply and had thought at first it was a dream, but it came again, jarring her to alertness. She drew up in bed to a sitting position and listened.
Something was wrong in the adjoining room. Muffled noises were echoing through the wall and through the door to her bedroom, sounding at once high-pitched, then lower, almost pleading and groaning. She sat still on the bed, listening. She didn't want to make a fool out of herself if nothing was wrong. It was possible that Randi was just having a nightmare, or she might be watching a late night TV horror movie. The sounds certainly had a strange spooky aspect to them that she couldn't quite picture with a complimentary action. There was silence for a moment, and then another noise, this time of movement. It sounded as though something were being thrown bodily on a bed, but she couldn't be certain.
She slipped from the bed and walked to the door, pressing her ear tight against it to see if she could hear anything. The noises were still muffled and, quietly, she opened her bedroom door, flicking out the ceiling light as she turned the knob so she wouldn't call attention to herself.
There was the unmistakable sound of movement floating through the stillness. She thought she could hear whimpering, but still it was impossible to tell. Jill Marlin hesitated for a moment, thinking that if there was something terribly wrong certainly Randi would scream. Her hand froze to the knob, but with a strong effort she forced herself to open the door completely and stepped into the darkness of the hall.
A long low moan was suddenly discernible coming directly from the adjoining bedroom. Jill moved quietly past the threshold of her own room until she stood directly in front of the next chamber. There were still strange noises coming from the door without letup, their intensity increasing with each passing moment. She pushed against Randi's door, feeling it give a little against her gentle pressure and the noises through the opening became more clear to her senses. She could discern the sounds of heavy breathing and the staccato squeaking of bedsprings punctuated by animal-like grunts and moans of pain and pleasure. A thin crack of light rushed into the hallway as she inched open the door a quarter inch at a time. The sudden illumination blinded her and she could not see for a moment, but the sounds continued unabated by her silent and unknown intrusion.
The young brunette's eyes adjusted to the intensity of the narrow path of 'light Streaming into her face, and the figures splayed out on Randi's bed came into clear view.
Her heart suddenly stopped beating, and then after a split second it felt as though it had leapt into her throat!
It was Randi and a man was on top of her!
The foot of the bed was pointed right at the door so that she could see the man's thick, long white penis disappearing and reappearing with each hard cruel thrust he made into the blonde girl. Randi's legs were stretched open wide on either side of his wildly plunging body and periodically would kick up high in the air and then fold around his driving buttocks, her ankles locking tightly behind his thighs, pulling him into her with all her strength.
Jill jerked back against the threshold of the door, feeling the blood draining from her head, fighting to retain her balance and keep from falling backward. Never in her entire life had she seen anything so depraved looking as this. Even that night with Bill, the darkness had partially hidden a complete view of his stiff throbbing penis; but now, with the unknown man pumping obscenely into the blonde girl, there was no way to escape the lewd sight. She wondered how a woman could let a man do such a cruel thing to her, but Randi seemed to be enjoying it.
In the dim bedroom light coming through the opened door, Jill could make out the narrow hair-lined split of the girl's vagina opening around the man's enormous hardness like a love-starved mouth. As his wetly glistening shaft slid down to the spasmodically contracting lips of Randi's cunt, Jill could see the fleshy foreskin on the cock and the bottom of its bulbously round head pausing for a teasing moment only to slip back in through the tight little vaginal lips once more.
Jill stood transfixed, unable to take her eyes from the strange spectacle of love-making in front of her. Mingled with her repugnance she could feel a forbidden fascination tingling through her young trembling body. Never in all her years had she thought she'd have the opportunity to watch something like this going on. Despite her initial revulsion, she found herself wondering if it would feel good having something as large and fleshy as that skewering into her young virginal pussy.
Jill could see the muscles standing out like velvet cables on Randi's smooth inner thighs, and then her legs lifting higher, the long white columns spiraling up the man's back. His hands were cupping around her pumping white buttocks with a savage strength that cut red bloodless lines into the smooth curving resiliency of Randi's flesh. He squeezed the firm rounded moons together, forcing the walls of her tightly quivering cunt closer around the thickness of his rigidly thrusting penis. Jill strained her eyes and could see the soft curls of sparse pussy hair grazing tantalizingly against the lust-swollen penis with each in and out stroke.
Randi's nakedly upraised buttocks were grinding faster now, and the groans and mewls of pleasure were becoming more desperate as the glazed half-comprehending eyes of the brunette stayed glued hypnotically on the lewd obscene coupling taking place on the bed. Randi's wild, demonic upward thrusts were met with equal fury by the man, whose face, turning to the side for a moment, was distorted beyond recognition.
"OYESSSSSSS, Sam fuck me, ram your big wonderful cock into my pussy," Randi moaned up into the sandy-haired man's face.
Jill wondered what kind of relationship the man had with the blonde girl. Was it her boy friend? Had she merely picked him up off the street after Jill had gone to bed? She tried to fix in her mind a description of his passion-crimsoned face, but the loud smack of belly against belly resounding through the room like tiny distant clasps of thunder distracted her and brought her attention back to the wanton motions of their lewdly writhing loins below. Randi's legs curled and uncurled in wild ecstatic spasms around the man's pumping buttocks, pulling him down into her like a constrictor snake sapping strength from its victim.
"Fuck me back, that's right Randi," the man intoned above the girl.
"Yesssss, Sam, I love it, I'm fucking you back just the way you wanted."
Jill stumbled into the darkness. She made her way dizzily through the darkened hallway and slipped into her bedroom again. Without closing her door she dropped onto her bed, the sounds of sexual intercourse still echoing through the corridor into her dazed mind. Her body tingled unwillingly from the effects of watching them. The girl could feel a rippling wave of pulsating sensation course through the tips of her breasts down into her thighs, and she timidly touched one hand to her straining right breast, feeling the small pointed nipple harden beneath her gently squeezing fingers. A teasing wave of pleasurable warmth quivered out across the aureoles of both breasts as her hands commenced to roam of their own accord over the fleshy curves of her youthfully aroused body.
Watching Randi and the young man a moment before had gotten Jill Marlin more excited than she had realized, and, though she still felt a repugnance for the animal-like lewdness of the act of love-making itself, the temptation to caress herself up between the legs got the better of her. As though in a dream, her hands began to massage the straining whiteness of her breasts, trapping gently the trembling little nipples between her fingers, kneading and pulling them until it felt as though she would rip them loose from the sensuously quivering mounds.
God, she didn't know what had gotten hold of her. Whatever it was, it didn't really matter, she thought. Before Randi had come into the apartment, she'd wanted to finger herself like this, to still the tension that had been building within her eager young body all afternoon. Now, with her roommate doing lewd obscene things to a man in the next room, she felt liberated from her earlier misgivings. The light from the city shone through the partially drawn curtains, illuminating her body as she watched it tremble under the ministrations of her own fingers.
Her hands burrowed down her abdomen and groped at the sparse, softly curling jet-black pubic hair up between her firm young thighs. She slowly spread her legs and watched as the dark blush covering her genitals became silkily apparent in the dim half-light of her new bedroom. She could feel her own moistly dilating slit palpitating now against the tips of her fingers that drew the narrow furrow open, exposing the fleshy lips of her hotly pulsating cunt to the cool air around her hands.
Groaning, she thrust her middle finger into her heatedly moistened cuntal mouth, sensing the open flanges of her cunt part slightly as though to permit her free entry. Her mind raced wildly over the vision of the man fucking Randi as she had watched. She could still hear the smack of flesh against naked flesh, and the low mewling sounds of passion erupting from the blonde's throat, and she recalled the length and thickness of the man's glistening cock as it thrust in and out of Randi's hungrily sucking cunt.
"Ooooh, oh, oh," she heard the sharp cries, signaling the girl's approaching release from the next bedroom.
The fire in her loins burned more intensely than ever, demanding more to feed its lewd hunger. She wormed in another finger, widening her legs further apart, then in a low self-surrendering groan drew her legs widely apart and upraised her moving buttocks off the mattress. She looked down at herself to see her lewdly writhing form with one hand working on the stiffening little nipple of her left breast through the parted robe while the other fucked rhythmically in and out of her moistly glistening vagina, imitating the thrust and counter thrust of a long hard cock ravishing her cunt. The vision of her own voluptuously swaying body, the blue robe parted to expose the flat white plane of her belly and the soft darkened "vee" of her pussy hair, sent renewed tingles of salacious pleasure through her trembling cuntal walls.
Jill Marlin's mind went rampant as she gave in completely to herself. She heard the heave of bedsprings from the adjoining room accompanied by a deep, suspirant groan, and suddenly her mind did a strange thing: she imagined herself as Randi, and envisioned her own finger-impaled cunt filled with the hot, plunging whiteness of the man's cock that now screwed so furiously into her new roommate's wildly clasping pussy. Electric tingles of daring pleasure raced through her nerves as she pictured herself under the pounding body of the stranger, and a painful surge of lust-drenching sensation swept through her white little belly when she realized that the depraved scene in the next room was actually something she had wanted desperately for herself for longer than she could remember.
"God, oh Christ, fuck me, screw my cunt, fuck it, FUCK MEEEEEEE!" she heard Randi's voice sear the air in demonic frenzy.
Jill's face contorted as she felt it coming -- tiny fiery fingers of pleasure leaping through her warmly clasping and unclasping vaginal walls -- and her whole body vibrated in the first throes of orgasm.
"Arrrrrg, Jesus," the man's voice echoed through the door. "I'm cumming, CUMMING!"
The brunette's moistly quivering pussy grew wetter still, the white hot lust juices gushing from around her obscenely rummaging fingers and stickily covering her hand. She could feel it running in warm slippery rivulets down the inside of her trembling thighs to her bending knees.
She stayed in a position with her legs splayed out wide and her robe thrown open for awhile, enjoying the last flutterings of dying pleasure that coursed through her moistly palpitating cunt. Finally, the last throes subsided and slowly she withdrew her fingers from her warmly quivering vaginal passage before resting her warm fleshed buttocks down on the mattress beneath them, her ripe young body satiated and her mind empty of all thoughts. She lay there completely still, her hands resting over her damp thighs and the robe still pulled up and to the side of her narrow waist.
She didn't stir when the male figure moved from the adjoining room and appeared at her open door, nor did she hear Randi come up alongside him.
"She's asleep," the man whispered.
"I could have sworn I saw her standing at the door," Randi said.
"It won't hurt her. She probably liked what she saw."
"Still," the young blonde woman said, "I don't like the idea of breaking her in so quickly."
CHAPTER TWO
Jill Marlin had mixed feelings about beginning her first day in New York. She was neither a visitor nor a native of the city, and when she recalled the events of the night before and remembered how she had fingered herself to orgasm as Randi made love to the stranger in the adjoining room, she felt a strong desire to leave. But she couldn't turn back now that she'd committed herself to sharing the apartment and was expected to be at the magazine office within the hour.
It was seven-thirty, and she had less than half an hour to dress and have breakfast with Randi before they took the Seventh Avenue subway downtown. She pulled on a short light blue summer dress which she knew would expose the smooth cream-like whiteness of her thighs to the best advantage, and stood for a moment surveying herself in front of the dressing table mirror. Despite the restless night she'd spent, her tanned face looked composed in the reflected glow of sunlight coming through the curtains.
But there was an edginess to her eyes that seemed keen and sharp, the pupils appearing like slate-blue pin-points in the glare.
"You like your eggs and toast burnt, or merely well-done?" Randi was standing in the hall outside her door.
"Don't worry about making anything," Jill smiled and turned from the mirror. "I'll have some cereal and that'll be it."
The two girls chatted amiably during a brief breakfast, and soon Jill felt the nervousness she'd experienced upon awakening vanish. Randi looked predictably tired, and for the first time the young brunette noticed tiny crow's feet lines spanning almost imperceptibly beneath the blonde's hazel-colored eyes.
No mention was made of the unknown visitor of last night, and Jill refrained from asking about him. As the two young, pretty girls walked the few blocks from their 63rd Street apartment building overlooking Central Park to the subway, a pleasant giddiness enveloped the curvaceous brunette. The September sky was a bright eggshell blue mirroring her cheerful mood, and the normally darkened facades of apartment buildings were enlivened by the sight of Lincoln Center, standing in clean whitewashed sunlight across from the subway stop.
"This is the part that hurts," Randi laughed as they pushed into a packed IRT Express train.
Randi was jostled back away from Jill by the pressing crowd and the brunette was thrust sideways behind the closing doors by two teenage boys. She could feel their breath grazing against her neck and smooth bare arms, and she struggled forward when one pressed his knee against the firm resiliency of her barely covered upper thigh.
She pushed back, and then the other boy began to rest his thin adolescent form heatedly against her own young trembling body. She thought at once of Jimmy, the elevator boy, and wondered if all the men in New York were like the boys she'd encountered during her first day in the city.
"I feel it getting hard, Frank," one boy turned to the other, sliding closer against her thigh until she sensed a hot pulsating thickness wedged obscenely just below the "vee" of her loins.
"I got one a mile long," the fat boy wheezed, thrusting her painfully from beside the door as he pushed his groin sharply against her own.
Across the car she saw Randi signaling toward the door. Jill pivoted around, unwedging herself from the lewd obscene contact of the two teenage boys.
Abruptly the train came to a halt as the crowd surged around her, drawing Jill's body along in an inexorable human tide she was helpless to fight against. She saw Randi's smiling face and long platinum blonde hair bobbing in the sea of faces.
Finally, the two girls were reunited at the top of a flight of stairs looking out on the wide expanse of Broadway and 42nd Street.
"Times Square," Randi said, taking Jill's hand.
There was a sorrowful bleakness to the scene: Scraps of newspaper blew across the pavement, and over the garish theater marquees bright neon lights flashed advertisements for sex movies. Standing beneath the luridly blinking signs were girls who were obviously prostitutes, some of them even younger than Jill, offering up their wares.
"They start business quite early," Randi laughed, and they turned, making their way down 42nd Street in the direction of the Lexington Avenue office.
Femme Magazine was on the fifteenth floor of a modern glass-walled structure that overlooked mid-town Manhattan. The two pretty girls entered early, and Randi showed Jill around, pointing out the reception lounge, the main editorial office, and the expensively furnished cubicles where the editorial assistants worked. The firm occupied the entire fifteenth level of the building, and seemed almost intimidating to Jill in its ultra-modern plushness. As in Randi's apartment, the walls were hung with abstract paintings, and the entire expanse of the central office was carpeted with a spongy white rug that seemed to puddle softly around Jill's feet.
"This is your little hideaway," Randi said, showing Jill a small room adjoining the executive office.
"It hardly looks like the kind of place a secretary would expect to work in," Jill said in amazement.
"The boss, Gary Johnson, likes to have his secretaries live in style. He says a secretary is worth three editorial assistants. I actually agree," Randi laughed, dropping into an armchair beside Jill's desk.
The young brunette sat down in front of her desk and looked over the large IBM typewriter, then leaned back easily in her swivel chair. "It helps a little to know you're being thought of as something more than a workhorse," she smiled.
"Fm really interested in the publishing angle of the job than the secretarial part of it."
"And that's exactly why we hired you," she heard a deep male voice coming from outside the door.
Suddenly, a tall blue-eyed man with a shock of dark chestnut hair came smiling in through the door. Randi stood up and introduced Gary Johnson, the chief editor, to Jill.
"You don't need to worry too much about me," Johnson said with a soft laugh. "Fm a kind of hatchet man for the big guy in the downtown office. Wilbur Kinsby, the publisher, the fella we take out all our pet peeves on."
Jill smiled and leaned back in her chair. The ruggedly handsome man had a relaxed, good-natured air about him that put Jill immediately at ease.
"I guess Randi's given you a quick rundown on what we're up to at Femme Magazine, " he said, settling onto the armrest of the chair where Randi was seated. "I thought you might be interested in the job because of your college background in journalism."
Jill smiled. Actually, she had never taken a journalism course in school. As Johnson talked, the lithe, attractively dark-haired girl received the impression that he and Randi were closer than she had initially thought. And yet, there was antagonism between the two that masked itself in veiled comments of personal affection the two exchanged.
"Randi and I have been through all the bullshit at Femme together," Johnson said, leaning close to the voluptuously full-breasted blonde and patting her gently on the back. "You might say we're the founders of an important event, wouldn't you Randi, babes?"
Randi pulled forward, letting Gary's hand fall awkwardly on the back rest of the chair. "Exactly what event are you referring to?" she inquired, turning her eyes to Jill.
"The old Saturday night orgy. Don't tell me you've suddenly forgotten about that?"
"Jill, don't pay any attention to this old lecher! He's the only person I've met under forty who might classify as a dirty old man." Johnson looked at his watch. "You know, we've been chatting here past coffee break time. I haven't shown Jill what I want her to do the first week. I hadn't anything special in mind, but you might type up a few articles which have been worked up by our staff. That way, you'll get a vague idea what kind of trash we're putting out on the market."
Johnson brought in some finished manuscripts and set them on Jill's desk and began pointing out irregularities in the master copy. Randi still hadn't left Jill's cubicle, and after a moment he rose from beside Jill, crossed the room and said something in a half-whisper to the blonde, who abruptly stood up and left the room.
"Goddamn Randi," he swore as he sat down next to the young secretary. "She'll poke her head into everything if you give her the chance. Not that I have anything against the chick. She's just too out in the open for my tastes."
Jill edged her chair slightly to the side as she felt Gary Johnson's body pressing uncomfortably close against her chair.
"I don't like starting out your first day with a lot of gossip," Johnson spun his yellow pencil around on her desk, "but there are some things you should know about Randi. Especially if you're going to be living with her."
"She's been very nice to me," Jill tried to sound disturbed though not angry at the indirect way the older man was trying to attack her new roommate. "I'm sure if there are any problems with our relationship, we'll be able to work them out."
"Let's get this straight," he said in a bitter voice. "I'm not spreading dirt about Randi.
We're good friends. She and I have been in this racket together longer than I care to remember. But people change, and Randi... she's a different person than she was three years ago."
Jill's stomach was tied in burning knots, and her temples began to pound out the first aching throbs of a migraine headache. What had begun as a delightful first morning on her job was becoming an intolerable early afternoon. Johnson sensed her concern, and he dismissed the subject of Randi, returning to the copy on the desk in front of her.
As they worked together, going over standard punctuation rules used by the company and discussing other more or less mundane typographical procedures, Jill felt Gary's knee pressing with a strange persistence against her own. His hand glided over the typewritten manuscript, pointing out errors to the attractive dark-haired girl, while his leg began moving softly back and forth from her knee up to the firm smoothness of her thigh beneath the desk.
"You know, it's just about lunch time," he said finally, dropping his hand to her tanned forearm in an affectionate manner. "Whaddya say we go out and get a bite to eat?"
Jill accepted the middle-aged man's invitation with something akin to ecstatic relief. He had been getting to damn close, she thought, and now that he was standing up from beside her desk she clearly saw a large protuberance pressing against the crotch of his pants. The young girl tried to look away, but the size of Gary Johnson's erection couldn't be denied by anything she might do. Johnson had obviously become aroused by her presence while they'd been working closely together, and whatever thoughts he'd had about her effectiveness as an employee for the firm were blotted out by his lewd interest in her.
As they descended in the elevator, he didn't seem in the least perturbed by the fact that she'd seen him in his obscene, lewdly excited state. She wondered if she hadn't been somewhat foolish wearing such a provocatively tight dress. As they entered the dimly lit basement restaurant a few blocks uptown from the office, a reminder from her rather old-fashioned mother reverberated through her mind: "Remember, Jill," the grey-haired woman had said, standing over the girl as she'd finished packing for her trip to New York, "there really is no such thing as rape. A girl who gets in that way receives just what she gets. Men are weak creatures of the flesh. Maybe we aren't any different, but it's a woman's advantage not to show too much of what she's got. There is only so much a man, even a good one, can take."
Gary ordered drinks and they settled back in a booth in a remote comer of the Italian restaurant.
"Do you come here often?" Jill asked, leaning across the table as he struck a match for her cigarette.
"I save my visits here for special occasions. When I'm either about to fire somebody or give somebody a raise," he chuckled.
"You don't seem like the firing type," Jill laughed.
"No, I'll have to admit I'm not," he smiled as their drinks were brought to their table. "I haven't canned anybody for years. We get along fairly well at the office, even when I'm feeling like a bastard -- which fortunately isn't all the time."
The martinis were especially strong and after a few sips Jill felt the cool mixture of gin and vermouth going to her head. She wasn't used to drinking in the middle of the day, but she felt funny refusing the mind-dazing substance, since she wanted to make a good impression on her boss and didn't like the idea of showing, in any way, that she might not fit in. Gary told her a little more about the company, and after awhile the conversation slipped back, inevitably it almost seemed, to Randi.
"I don't want you to get me wrong. I really like the girl. We've had our ups and downs together, but we happen to work well as a team. I think our basic conflict is sexual, the old war between the sexes. There's nothing you can do about that," he confided, peering through the candle-lit darkness of the restaurant at the demurely pretty brunette.
"I can't wait for her to show me around town. She's so experienced in this city. I'm still fresh from the sticks, and a girl like Randi can be a tremendous help to me," she tried to guide the subject gracefully away from the gossipy tone he had set back in the office.
"She'll show you around, all right," he said with a note of sarcasm in his voice, "don't worry your pretty young body about that."
Jill felt a spine-grazing shiver of apprehension slide icicle-like down her spine. Gary's leg pressed beneath the table against her own, his knee again rocking with stubborn persistence against her thigh. The icicle dropped into her stomach, melting there, and she reached for her drink. She remembered the sight of his large erection barely concealed beneath his pants in the office; then recalled the few pointed comments Randi and he had made to each other.
"You look like you're a thousand miles away," her new boss waved his hand slowly back and forth in front of her pretty face.
"No... I was just thinking," she defended weakly. "I was wondering about a lot of things."
"You'd probably make a good writer," he laughed and finished his drink. "Dreamers always do. I remember reading an ad somewhere for a writer's school using that approach. If you have daydreams or fantasies, why not put your wasted energy to good use? That was the point of the ad; it might have been a little hard on those daydreamers who don't have any talent, but there's more than a little truth in the idea."
"I think I'd fall into the no talent category." A kind of false brightness came to her face.
"You know, you're a very pretty girl," he reached across the table and held her hand. "I wouldn't want anything to stop you from getting what you want out of this job. You're smart too, and brains and good looks don't often go together, especially in the business world."
"That's very... nice, very thoughtful of you," she said, drawing her hand from his and sitting up with an awkward straightness in her chair.
Gary signaled for more drinks, then looked at his watch. "Would you believe it's three o'clock? I'm afraid our luncheon is going to be an all-afternoon affair."
"Maybe we should go back to the office and just have some sandwiches," she said, realizing with a blush that it was not her prerogative to suggest they leave.
"Gino is a little slow today, but he's used to me taking my time. What good is our time if we're always in a mad rush? I'm willing to make a day of it with you. There's no reason to be caged up in that office when we can talk just as well over drinks."
Gary didn't seem aware that she might be in the least hungry, but evidently the alcohol he consumed had tempered his appetite. It did the opposite with her, hollowing out a gnawing pit of emptiness in her stomach, making her drink more than she knew she should. After she had finished her second martini, things that had once bothered her took on a softer, less threatening aspect. She even let her boss press his leg and touch his hand against her soft firmly contoured thigh occasionally, interpreting the gesture as coming more from a desire to be reassuring and pleasant than from any lewd intentions on his part.
Still though, from moment to moment she found herself drawing away from him, pulling back into her soft-cushioned chair as though a central part of herself was cautioning her to beware of the older man smiling at her from across the table. Finally, their lunch arrived and Jill ate ravenously. The antipasto and lasagna were especially good, and after the meal the coffee and brandy put her into a mellow mood.
"This is some first day on the job!" she said in a soft husky voice. "I'd never imagined a secretary could be wined and dined like this!"
"Jill," Gary's eyes narrowed, "I don't think of you as just a secretary. First you're a woman. I hope you don't mind my saying that."
"No-no, I--I, of course... I don't mind," tiny sparks of confusion went through her.
"We're having a party, a kind of company thing at the end of the week." His eyes dropped to the full, softly shaded roundness of her breasts. "I wanted to tell you about it before, but I forgot. Would you like to go?"
The girl paused over her coffee, musing over the handsome masculine presence across from her who neither announced his intentions openly to her, nor showed the least restraint in explaining himself through seductive gestures rather than words. "Of course I'd like to go," she discovered herself responding, a thin membrane of will power severing itself from the back of her mind, only to reassert itself a moment afterward. "I don't actually know any of these people. Do you think I'd fit in?"
"Goddamn it, Jill," he laughed gruffly, "that's the farm girl in you coming out. Of course you'll fit in! By the way, I wouldn't mention our discussion about Randi to her. I just wanted you to be careful of the girl. She's living at high speed, and it wouldn't do you any good getting too goddamn cozy with her."
They left the restaurant and returned to the firm for a half hour before Johnson closed shop for the afternoon.
On the way home in the subway, Jill and Randi didn't talk, nor did the voluptuous blonde girl show her characteristic bright enthusiasm when the two girls settled down for drinks before supper in their spacious 63rd Street apartment overlooking Central Park. Dusk came early on that late September evening, the sky over the tops of distant buildings on the east side of Manhattan shading from violet to a deep purple and then turning velvety black.
Jill thought of what Gary Johnson had said about her roommate, and wondered whether she hadn't been too nice to him, even though he'd made some rather vicious attacks against the character of the sexy young blonde. Looking across the room now at Randi, she couldn't help admiring the gentle slope of the girl's large melony breasts, and the smooth sweep of young white thighs that were encased seductively in a pair of tight-fitting summer shorts.
"You have a good day?" Randi finally said, looking up from her drink.
"Just fine," Jill's voice was tense. "I got a little drunk with Gary, though. I was kind of surprised about the lunch."
"That's Gary's way of asserting his authority," Randi wrinkled her slightly turned-up nose in disapproval. "He likes to impress his secretaries. I'd be careful of him, if I were you. His intentions aren't altogether honorable."
"He mentioned something about a party this weekend," Jill stood up from the armchair and went into the kitchen. "I wonder if I ought to go?"
"Please do!" Randi said brightly from the living room. "You'll see the line up of characters in action, right on down from the publisher to the other secretaries."
Jill removed some hamburger from the refrigerator and began shaping the meat into small patties, setting them in a large frying pan on top of the stove. It was clear to her, from what Randi had said, that the pretty blonde had it out for Gary Johnson, just as their boss was equally ill-disposed toward Jill's roommate. One thing the innocently attractive girl from Minnesota did not want was to be caught in the crossfire between the two of them; but she had a feeling that the war of sexes, and the bitter retribution that would effect all those who might unknowingly take sides in the affair had already begun.
CHAPTER THREE
Nothing could have been more surprising to Jill Marlin during that first week at Femme Magazine than meeting the man she had seen making love to her roommate that first night in the Manhattan apartment. Sam Borden was a thickly set man in his early thirties who worked in the office adjoining Randi's cubicle.
When Jill had been introduced to him, a shock of recognition reverberated ominously through her youthful body. His blunt, prize-fighter's features seemed to light up that Tuesday morning while over coffee in the office lounge Randi and he, seated together on a couch directly across from the young brunette, began to talk in low, barely audible tones; his eyes kept flicking from the blonde to the full cantalouped mounds of Jill's high-set breasts. She wondered if he had recognized her, but then dismissed the thought as impossible. Both had been too engrossed in love-making to have noticed her two nights before in front of Randi's bedroom door.
Jill looked up at the stockily-built man standing over her, recalling the sight of his large massively erect cock plunging into her roommate's moistly clasping vagina. "I... I guess the job takes a lot out of you. It must be hard to find time to write," she struggled hard not to blush.
Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "You're right. At first you think about it, and then the thought gets less and less important. It's a crying shame so many of us get caught up in the rat race, but you gotta eat to live!"
Jill stood up from her chair and faced the window. White puffs of cloud scudded across the tops of skyscrapers on the horizon, forming an elusive, misty crown over the city. "I always thought I'd be able to learn how to write, working with other writers." She could feel Sam Borden's gaze fall brazenly against the smoothly uplifting orbs of her breasts as she spoke.
Sam came to the window. "Honey," he said with a slight drawl in his voice, "you learn one thing while you're in New York, and maybe it's worth forgetting all the other frigging writing experience for it. You find out how to survive."
Randi made a humming sound as she refilled her cup from the electric coffee pot set on a ceramic table in the center of the room. "You and Gary are alike in one respect," she said, her buttocks waggling provocatively beneath her salaciously tight-fitting slacks as she approached Jill and Sam standing by the window. "Neither of you can stomach the idea of anybody else making it. You want to drag everyone else down to your own level regardless of whether they want to be down there with you or not."
"Sweet fucking Jesus!" Sam whistled. "What the hell prompted that?"
Randi set her cup on the window ledge. "I'm getting awfully tired hearing the same sob story from you two guys," she said, looking steadily at the broad shouldered man. "For two years it's been the same thing. Your philosophy turns pretty rancid, Sam Borden, especially when I know you're thinking about nothing but getting into this sweet young thing's pants!"
"Don't pay any attention to her, baby." He looked unabashedly at the ripely large spheres of Jill's breasts. "Randi's just afraid if I put the make on you, she'll have to start hunting around for another man."
"Please don't drag me into your personal conflicts," Jill felt the stocky man and his girl friend pushing against her from both sides. "I really don't like it."
"That's what happens around the office." Randi rested an assertive hand on the brunette's shoulder. "The new guy always gets involved. The only way you can fight against it is to let everyone know where you stand right off the bat. I'm proud of you, Jill. It takes a lot of guts to do that."
The young brunette returned to her cubicle and began to cry. She recalled her conversation with Gary Johnson yesterday, and wondered if her initial impulse to quit the job before she became embroiled in the office squabble hadn't been the intelligent thing to do.
But the remainder of the week was relatively pleasant, and there weren't as many confrontations with either Gary or Sam, although she was aware of the searing hungry lewdness of their glances when they met in the hallway or lounge. The party that Saturday night was going to be an informal gathering, but as the week came to a close she found herself thinking about it more and more.
The evening of the party Randi and Jill stood in the living room of their 63rd Street apartment, having drinks before they dressed for the gathering later that night. Jill was dressed in a halter and a small half-slip that accentuated the sensually swelling arcs of her breasts and hips, while Randi was clothed in a pair of tightly fitting white panties and a sheer strapless brassiere.
"You should get an excellent glimpse of office politics tonight," Randi smiled over her gin and tonic.
"It would be nice to talk to some people outside the confines of the magazine office."
"I'm afraid Sam and Gary like to mix business with pleasure," Randi said. "They may try to make a pass at you and promise a promotion if you put out for them. It's not all that pleasant, but it is interesting."
Jill smiled. "I think I can handle myself. After a week working with Gary and Sam I'll be able to take anything."
Randi sprung from the couch and bent down, touching her fingertips to her toes, then stretching backwards athletically. Jill's eyes flickered over the tall, slim blonde's body, noting how the sensuously smooth curves of her legs, thighs, and buttocks seemed to merge one into the other in a remarkable aesthetic composition of lithe female grace.
"You haven't met our renowned publisher yet," Randi set her drink on the small paneled bar behind her. "Wilbur Kinsby's the man to watch out for. Urbane, witty, and full of spunk even though he's in his sixties. In a way he's more of a man than either Sam or Gary. Do you remember what Gary said about being Kinsby's hatchet man?"
Jill nodded.
"Well, that wasn't far from the truth. Kinsby stays in the background, while Gary does the dirty work, so to speak. Just watch him tonight."
Jill dressed quickly for the party, feeling a forbidden tingle of anticipation about meeting the head of the company, and watching the other employees in action. The gin and tonic she'd had was already going to her head, but she didn't realize that the softly glowing sensation racing through the tips of her gently upthrusting breasts was due to its effects.
Kinsby had rented out a fashionable west side apartment for the gathering. If the offices of Femme Magazine were notable for their plushness, the flat over-looking the Hudson River and George Washington Bridge was a model of luxury and wealth far beyond Jill Marlin's most extravagant dreams.
By the time the two young roommates entered the spacious living room, the festivities were already in full swing. White-coated waiters moved from table to table dispensing drinks, while a small band played soft music from an alcove adjoining the high-ceilinged room. Beside the expansive fireplace Jill recognized the tall, imposing form of Gary Johnson standing next to a slim, flame-haired young woman.
Randi led Jill across the large salon to the bar where a waiter with bushy eyebrows was listening to a short dark-haired young man.
"I don't care if ya can't make a gin fizz or not," the man said in a New York accent, "at least ya should know what the hell a Crimson Angel is!"
The young man turned away, his face darkened with exasperation. The bartender shrugged and gazed across the marble-topped table at Jill and Randi.
"Two martinis," Randi said in a husky voice.
"I don't know if I should drink any more," Jill brushed softly against Randi's arm. "I was stupid to have that gin and tonic back at the apartment."
"You'll be a fool not to," Randi laughed brightly, lifting the two martini glasses from the tray the bartender set in front of them. "I know I'll need more than a few to make the night go smoothly."
Jill shrugged and sipped at the drink Randi gave her with concealed satisfaction. She had never cared too much for alcohol, but the nervousness she felt this evening made it almost a necessity. Besides, she deserved to have a little fun after the difficult week she'd put in at the office.
"We just might have enough luck to meet Kinsby tonight," Randi said as the two girls sat down on a couch facing the fireplace, "but usually he absents himself from his parties."
"That's strange," Jill said, looking across the room at the well-dressed couples who had begun dancing to the mellow tones of the band playing from the alcove. "I've never heard of someone not going to his own party."
Randi leaned softly against Jill's bare shoulder. "Not really so strange," the platinum blonde's eyes twinkled. "He's actually everywhere. You can almost feel his presence."
"Don't be silly," Jill laughed, her gaze following the tall handsome figure of Gary Johnson who had left the redhead and was approaching the bar. "How could Mr. Kinsby do that!"
"He's got intercom sets, you know, closed circuit TV cameras hidden in all the oddest places. If you look carefully behind that potted plant," she nodded toward a large earthen pot with an exotic looking flower extending several large jungle-like tendrils up against the pine-paneled wall, "you can see what I mean."
"I'd rather not!" Jill laughed nervously and sipped on her drink.
"Well, we look right pretty tonight!" a hoarse male voice broke out from beside them.
Sam Borden, already slightly drunk, dropped down on the arm rest beside Randi.
"And you look rather smashed," Randi dropped her hand casually on top of Sam's knee.
"You don't like?" the dark-haired man smiled at Jill.
"To the contrary." Randi ran her hand gently up Sam's thigh. "A little booze brings out the best in you."
"You wanna dance?" the short stocky man stood up from the arm rest of the couch.
"That's what I'm here for." Randi rose into Borden's arms, winking at Jill who moved somewhat restlessly back against the cushion as her roommate and the garrulous man walked to the dance floor.
The music grew resonant and mellower still, the lead saxophone breaking into a familiar song, and Jill found herself humming quietly along with the soft ballad. On the carpet in front of her Randi and Sam were dancing close, Borden's hands gripping in a tight hug around the small of the young woman's back. The couple moved in a slow rhythmic time to the music, their bodies pressing in a lewdly provocative manner against each other. Randi coursed her hands over Sam's sides and then sent her fingers down to his hips where she cradled the firmness of the older man's swaying buttocks in the cups of her hands.
Slowly, Randi responded to the soft sensuous rhythm of the music by grinding her pelvis against Sam's groin. Jill began to feel uneasy as the couple continued to gyrate obscenely in front of her. They were oblivious to the fact that they were being watched, as they had been the first night Jill had spent in her new apartment, and they arched their backs and hips in a salacious posture of copulation. But the other couples, some of whom Jill recognized as copy boys and office girls from the firm, seemed equally indifferent to the lewdness of their embrace.
"Interesting, aren't they?" Gary Johnson's voice suddenly distracted Jill from her thoughts. The tall chestnut-haired man appeared in front of her, holding a drink and a cigarette.
"I had no idea there were so many people working for the company. Where did they all come from?" she said as her boss sat down in an armchair beside the couch.
"Half of them work at the downtown office," he said, resting his drink on the coffee table in front of her. "The other half are either crashers or friends of Kinsby. I don't know most of them, but that makes things more exciting."
Jill wore a light cotton sleeveless dress that was tightly shaped around the softly mounded orbs of her breasts and dropped from their full firm roundness in an "A" line to the breath-taking arcs of her hips. She sat up comfortably adjusting the short hemline over her shapely thighs, trying to appear modest yet bemused by Johnson's stare at the provocative lines of her young body. "It's fun seeing people in a social situation after meeting them in the office all week. They seem prettier, happier." She set her glass on the wrought iron table next to Gary's drink.
"There is a difference," he smiled. "Not only qualitatively, but quantitatively. At Kinsby's parties, everybody is a lot gayer and more open with each other. By the time the evening's over," he nodded slowly, "there'll be quite a few new friendships made."
"You were so busy last week," Jill looked at the large framed man who pulled his chair closer to her, "I hadn't time to thank you for the delightful lunch on Monday."
"It was my pleasure," his gray eyes twinkled. "I wanted to talk to you about our conversation about Randi, but a few important things came up. You haven't mentioned anything to her, have you?"
"I've forgotten whatever it was you'd said," she answered, narrowing her eyes.
"Tonight you'll have a chance to watch her in action. She's a real hellion," he laughed, "and I have a feeling she's taking old brother Sam for a ride."
Out of the comer of her eye Jill caught a glimpse of Randi and Sam, dancing closer now if that was at all possible. Sam's arms were extended down to the small of the blonde's back and his palms were cupped lasciviously over the tight rounded moons of the girl's sensually swaying buttocks.
"Let's dance," Johnson said, rising abruptly from his chair.
Suddenly, as though in a dream, Jill was swept into Gary's arms and led gracefully to the center of the room. He had taken Jill by surprise when he curled her warmly into his arms, making certain he could feel the sharp tips of her full breasts pushing tautly into his chest. In the last few moments she had felt he had his eye on her, and she'd tried to ignore it, but she'd somehow felt his eyes almost penetrating through even when she wasn't looking at him. Gary Johnson was certainly an attractive man, Jill mused as they began rocking softly from side to side to the music. But she wasn't interested in establishing any intimate relationship with men in New York... at least not yet.
Jill tried to pull back, but Johnson's hand tightening on her back held her close. She had never experienced a problem like this before, and she wasn't certain exactly how to handle it. If she forced her way out of his arms, she would insult the man, but God only knew what would happen if they kept up their dancing like this.
"Baby, there's nothing in the world to be afraid of," he breathed warmly against her cheek. "I'm not all that dangerous."
Jill felt her face flush slightly as he pushed forward, pushing his groin against her so that the hard little mound of her cunt was rubbing against the top of his thigh. It was then the inexperienced young girl became aware of her right thigh making direct contact with something hard and protuberant. Breathing wetly into her ear, he ground his loins slowly and methodically up and down against her taut little belly.
"Good Lord, do you always dance so close?" Jill's voice was tremulous as she tried to force herself slightly away from him.
"It's kind of a tradition," he said almost gleefully, "like lunch last Monday. It's how people get to know each other."
"Some tradition," Jill managed to laugh.
"You like?"
"Not especially," she struggled to remain cool.
"I think it's... uh... intriguing. I'm wondering what you'll do next. Will you make a scene when I make my next move, or will you keep up the pretense of not knowing what I'm doing." He gave a sharp tug against the smooth plane of her back.
Jill swallowed hard. She was so shocked by Gary Johnson's sudden lewd interest in her that the words just wouldn't come. He had been flirtatious at the beginning of the week, but that was a lot different than trying to seduce her right in the center of the company party. She wondered whether their discussion of Randi didn't have something to do with it. There was a vengeful quality in the way he pressed wantonly close to her, as though he were demonstrating his male prowess to the throng gathered on the dance floor and seated at the tables around the room.
"I'm a very, very responsive guy," he said, "and I can be won over pretty easily. You remember our discussion at the beginning of the week?"
"Yes... but what does that have to do -- Her words were swallowed as she realized Johnson's intentions, and knew that her own reaction should be gauged in terms of her future at the company.
"I think you get the idea." He swung the hardness of his groin strongly against her abdomen, grinding his rapidly stiffening penis more insistently into the smooth resiliency of her flesh. "You know goddamn well, it feels good. Go ahead, say it does."
"If this is an example of office politics, I want nothing to do with it," Jill suddenly tensed back from him as she spoke.
Gary wedged his pelvis closer to hers and inched one of his hands down to the soft hollow just above her buttocks. "Sexual politics, you might say. I can make an eloquent case for myself if you want."
"You've been eloquent enough, I'm afraid," she shuddered, hardening her resistance against him as his muscular body seemed to surge around her petite, girlish frame.
The couples around were oblivious to the lewd position Gary had forced her into. Sam and Randi, a few feet away from them, were swaying back and forth, not moving from their rocking stance to the music, their thighs and buttocks rotating perceptibly in semblance of intercourse to the full tones of the saxophone and trumpet whose harmonic melody submerged the now dimly-lit room in a soothing curtain of sound.
"This is a difficult situation," she sighed. "I mean, I don't want to lose my job, but I'm not used to being propositioned like this."
"Forget about the offer," Gary said, resting his hand on her softly quivering ass-cheeks. "Pretend we're just friends, maybe lovers, if you like."
The music stopped and with a tremble of relief Jill broke from her tall boss' arms.
"But we're not lovers," Jill protested in a quiet voice.
Gary led her to the bar and ordered Jill another drink. "Just think about it. You have nothing to lose if you want me. However," he smiled at the bartender and handed the girl her third martini, "there are unforeseen consequences if you refuse."
"That's certainly a blunt way of putting it," she remarked as they settled on a divan in a darkened comer of the room.
Her mind raced quickly over the alternatives Johnson had presented her with, noting that his actions confirmed with what Randi had predicted would happen when they'd entered the publisher's apartment. She was already a little high from the drinks she'd had at home and the martinis she'd consumed at the party, and the alcohol had taken the edge off things. The subject of her job and his proposition dropped gracefully from their conversation. As they drank and talked, and as Gary Johnson again became the witty, urbane New Yorker rather than the blatantly lecherous blackmailer he'd seemed on the dance floor, she dismissed her earlier fears as a little premature, or at least unnecessary. After all, she was capable of handling him if he got too intimate with her, and she supposed it was good for them to be open and sincere with each other.
By eleven o'clock the party was going at full swing. Old faces disappeared and new ones took their places in the expansive, luxuriously furnished living room. Jill noticed couples leaving and entering through a door that led to the rear of the apartment, and Gary, who had taken on the status of her date for the evening, pointed out to her that the couples were going to the back bedroom.
"Just like that? Isn't it a little bold of them?" she said in an astonished voice.
"You'll get used to it," he said heavily. "It's not so unusual in New York. The publishing world carries on half of its business in bed."
"I've been looking for Mr. Kinsby. Randi said he rarely shows up at his own parties." She shifted her leg away from him as he dropped his hand softly against her knee.
"Wilber's here." She could see him smiling through the half darkness. "In fact, I can introduce you to him if you like."
Without protesting, Jill permitted herself to be led through the rear corridor to a large darkened room at the end of the hall. Through the obscure lighting she could make out the forms of couples reclining on divans and against cushions on the floor. Low groaning sounds could be heard, echoing the accompanying obscene wet sluicing sounds of flesh striking flesh throughout the chamber.
"This is one place everyone escapes to." He put his arm around Jill's waist, drawing her close to his side as they entered the room.
A quick appraisal of the room and the scene sent a shock of burgeoning fear through Jill's girlishly ripe body. Some of the figures appeared to be naked, and though she couldn't see them clearly, they were obviously engaged in various acts of sexual intercourse with one another. She flushed with anger and hot tears suddenly brimmed in her eyes. Gary had tricked her! She should have known it, but the several drinks she'd had throughout the evening had seriously impaired her judgement.
"I want out of here, right now!" she said with more strength than she believed she contained.
"Just watch from here," Johnson said hoarsely. "We don't have to do anything."
. His hand curled around her back, bringing her close to the muscular hardness of his outer thighs and the side of his chest. Her will to resist him and leave the depraved scene dissolved momentarily as her gaze swept across the chamber. None of the people were recognizable in the darkness, yet what they were doing was clear enough to anyone with eyes to see. The bodies moved slowly back and forth, the cream-like whiteness of breasts and thighs half-shaded and half-illuminated by an infra-red light that filtered from the ceiling. A woman at the center of the room was bent over a man's outstretched loins and was raising and lowering her head over his raised thighs. Looking closer, Jill could see a white fleshy hardness extending into the girl's widely ovalled mouth.
Jill had heard about oral sex before, but never in her life had she imagined she would get such a glimpse of the obscene act. A numbing fear rose in her body as she watched the woman's head bobbing up and down over the man's lower abdomen, her lips clasped tightly around his long thick penis. The man's cock stood hard and rigid, silhouetted in the soft red light, and Jill could see slight tuffs of pubic hair protruding around the edge of its thick base. Her eyes, now accustoming themselves to the dim light, focused on the details of the young woman's body kneeling over the man. Her breasts dangled lewdly over the tight sinews of the man's taut stomach and brushed sensually against his hair-covered belly as she raised and lowered her sucking mouth up and down over his virile hardness.
Jill felt her balance and equilibrium grow shaky, and she leaned against her boss for support. At the same time, Gary Johnson tightened his arm around Jill's lower back, while his other hand rose and cupped the fullness of her rapidly rising and falling breast.
"Let's sit down," Johnson slurred.
"No, I want to go home. This is enough for one evening," she whimpered, feeling the sharp pressure of his fingers digging harshly into her slender waist.
They didn't move. It was as though the moment had been extended in time and she was caught inside it; try as she might, her fear and shock had sealed her feet as if with suction cups to the floor. In front of them on the carpet Jill could see the woman circling her hand around the base of the man's vigorously upstanding cock as she sucked it in rhythm to her mouth sliding up and down on the wet glistening shaft. Jill saw the lean-bodied man flex his buttocks and bend his head, his contorted face focused on the wantonly exciting sight of the top of the girl's head bobbing up and down over the flat plane of his belly. Jill knew it must have been all the more stimulating to be able to watch her labor, to see her devouring the long length of his hardness, and to hear her obscene mewls of gurgling pleasure purr softly from between her working lips.
The girl, who Jill suddenly recognized as the redhead Gary had been talking with earlier in the living room, seemed to sense the man's mounting lust and began to suck perceptibly harder, drawing her teeth and letting them dig gently into the thick resisting flesh as she pulled up. The girl reached under his buttocks, an ass-cheek in each palm, drawing his loins up to her face as far as she could. Now the nearly bursting cock was plunging in almost full length with each powerful stroke, and the rotation of his uplifted loins sent his sperm-laden balls careening off her chin. Jill was positive the redhead would choke on the massive pole of flesh, but her maddening sucking continued on and on.
Jill's entire body was weakening and losing its control through the effects of her shock and the stimulation of alcohol. She could feel Gary's hand stroking gently at the full tip of her painfully sensitive breast, yet she didn't pull away. They were standing now at the threshold to the room, one of his arms curving around her small back while the other kneaded her proud young breast with rhythmic contractions of his palm.
The tall men drew Jill gently into his arms, running his hand from her breast across the fullness of her hips and then back again along her sides between their bodies to the quivering mounds again. Then he pressed his wetly parted lips on her mouth and wormed the warm moistness of his tongue between her teeth. The pleasurable sensations she'd felt when he'd first touched her seemed to surge forth now without restraint, and suddenly she found herself passionately kissing him back, her hands slipping to his buttocks as though with a mind of their own to grasp them flutteringly for a moment, and then hold them tighter. His hand slid down her back and seized one of her full firm ass-cheeks, drawing its roundness into his palms and pressing inward so that her wetly throbbing pussy was pressed against the hard bulge in his pants.
"We -- we shouldn't be doing this, Mr. Johnson," she breathed against the hardness of his chest.
"Yes, Miss Marlin," he groaned, attempting a sarcasm that sounded forced, "we might muss or wrinkle our clothes!"
Jill gazed back at the couple lying on the carpet a few yards away from them. Sharp gurgling sounds were being emitted from the red-haired woman's throat, while the man broke out into panting sighs that grew louder and more brittle in intensity as he approached his wild searing climax. The man's tensed buttocks raised and lowered furiously off the carpet as his balls slapped with lewd obscene force up against the subserviently kneeling girl's chin. Jill could see the redhead's hand slip down his muscularly straining thigh to cup the sperm-inflated sac of his ballooning testicles and draw them up against the swelling base of his cock.
Suddenly there was an intense intake of air, and a long wailing outburst of breath.
"Jesus FUCKIN' CHRIST!" the man expostulated, curving his torso up and seizing the girl's flaming hair in his hands, thrusting her moving head down over the length of his long hard pulsating flesh.
"MMrnmmmmmmm," the woman mewled, her eyes bulging as she sucked in the entire long hard length of his thrusting cock.
The man's chin fell to his chest and he watched her suck him like a starving child being fed a candy cane. "Cummmmmmming," he bellowed, upthrusting vigorously into the girl's working mouth while his buttocks danced in a lewd gyration of orgasming desire a few inches off the soft lush carpet.
Jill turned away, too ashamed to watch the last agonizing movements of the two bodies before her.
As she turned to Johnson, she saw another couple from the bordering couches slip nakedly to the floor. The new actors in the almost ritualistic drama commenced at once to fondle and lick at one another's heatedly aroused bodies, and the woman lay down and spread her legs, drawing the rather stockily built man's head up between her widespread thighs.
"Take a good look at the new participants," Johnson said. "Do you recognized your roommate?"
The wildness of recognition darted in a sympathetic erotic shudder through Jill's loins. She couldn't watch any more, she had to get out of here before something more serious might happen to her. "I've already seen this particular performance, or a variation on it," she said with more wit than she thought herself capable of alluding to the act of intercourse she'd witnessed in the adjoining bedroom at the apartment Monday night.
"Then, I suggest we stroll down to the next room for a chat." The tall gray-eyed man held her dainty chin in his hand and kissed her gently on the mouth.
* * *
If Gary Johnson was a sophisticated New York character who oozed charm from every pore, Sam Borden was in many ways his boss' polar opposite. Chunky and rough hewn around the edges, he was neither as articulate as his superior, nor did he seem as intelligent.
Jill watched the man and woman seated across from her, the slanting rays of the late morning sun shimmering through the halo of Randi's platinum hair. Her long, lithe legs tapering down from the curve of her hips contrasted with Sam's short stocky frame, and Jill compared the two of them in a moment of unconscious reflection, amused at the contrast they made with each other.
"Sam's in the same boat as I am," Randi came over to Jill and stood by the lounge window. "We're both copy editors. But he's got ambitions to be a novelist, while I'd just as soon take home my paycheck and forget about literature after the job is over."
"Christ," Sam Borden guffawed, coming up behind the seductively attractive platinum-haired girl and giving her a lascivious pat on her smooth rounded buttocks, "She makes it sound like I'm some sort of intellectual dilettante. I haven't put a serious word to paper for six years, much less thought about it."
CHAPTER FOUR
There are certain decisions in one's life that don't lend themselves readily to explanation. When the passions are involved in the decision making process, and when something is held over those lusts of the body so that the subject has no choice but to submit to his or her emotions, a peculiar thing happens. Jill realized this as she half stumbled down the darkened hallway at Gary Johnson's side, even though she tried not to think about it. In so many words he had told her that her job was at stake and her future promotions at Femme Magazine depended on how she behaved with him tonight. She had no overriding interest in keeping her secretarial position at the company, but an inexplicable part of her mind rationalized to her that it did matter. It was almost as if she wanted to give herself to her tall, ruggedly handsome boss and was using the as yet unstated threat as an excuse for giving in to him.
As they slipped into a bedroom alongside the orgiastic chamber where Jill had last seen Randi and Sam's naked bodies moving on the carpeted floor, Johnson flicked on an overhead light.
"You wanted to see Wilbur Kinsby," he laughed evilly, and pointed to a painting overhanging a large double bed in the center of the room. "Well, there he is!"
Jill looked at the painting of a rather fat, red-faced man, then turned away. "Is this some kind of a joke?" her voice wavered.
"It's about as close as any of us can get to Kinsby. None of us have much to do with him, although we know he's here, somewhere," Johnson said mysteriously.
Jill slowly inched back toward the door, her temptation of a few moments before to give herself to Gary Johnson suddenly seeming totally absurd. "I... I'm going now. I've had about as much as a person can take of all this," she choked, her hand outstretched behind her to grasp the doorknob.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," he sneered, moving swiftly behind her and wrenching her hand from the door.
Jill moaned and raised her head, her eyes tear-glazed. She'd been a fool to be taken in by the man's enticements throughout the evening, and yet thinking about it quickly she knew she hadn't really been forced or seductively pushed into the situation against her will. It was just the combination of the alcohol she'd consumed and witnessing the obscene proceedings in the next room, plus Johnson's veiled threats that had contributed to what was happening now.
She struggled to get past him to the door, but his hand came down hard on the smoothness of her shoulder and held her fast. "Please let me go," she tried to sound reasonable. "I don't want anything more to do with you."
"Jill, be quiet," Johnson's eyes narrowed as he spun her around to face him. She could feel his hot breath grazing on her neck, and then she saw one of his hands drop from her bare sloping shoulder to the pear-shaped roundness of her breast. "Relax and enjoy what I'm going to do to you. It's sort of a ritual every girl goes through. Even Randi's done it!"
Jill stared wildly at his alcohol flushed face and pulled back helplessly from the greedy devouring glance he shot at her. "You mean... Randi... you, and she...?"
"Exactly!" he laughed. "That might explain our little conflict. But since I've broken the girl in she's changed, quite perceptibly, I might add."
Jill lurched backward, but his free hand gripped her neck, sending a sharp shooting pain down her upper back, reaffirming the fact that she was no match for him physically. When she tried with one last desperate effort to pull away, his hand clenched with a painful contraction against the searingly pulsating tip of her breast... her vision dimmed momentarily, and then she was lifted up from the floor and seemed to be floating in mid-air across the room, then falling or being dropped down like a light fluttering feather onto the incredible softness of the huge double bed. She spilled out on the mattress, her legs and arms akimbo, muttering feverish pleas for him to release her; but then he was settled down beside her quivering young body, resting back on the palms of his hands.
"Oh God," Jill sobbed and sat up weakly on the bed. "What do you want me to do? Just what is all this about?"
Again his hand came down to knead her frantically quivering breast, this time capturing her erect little nipple between his thumb and forefinger and tweaking it with such force that she moaned in pained protest.
"Don't ask questions," he said with an evil tenderness. "Everything will be clear to you as time goes on. Right now, just relax."
She jerked forward on the side of the bed as Johnson's hand let go of her breast and tore at the front buttons of her open necked summer dress, tearing it down to her waist. His gray-blue eyes lit on her half-exposed nakedness, his breath coming quickly as he looked down to where her minidress had pulled up over her gently curving thighs.
The gray-eyed man chuckled. "For three years I've wanted a woman like you. It's not easy to find one without spending a helluva lot of time, but when you sent your snap-shot along with the application form, I knew we had a goddamn beauty."
Gary moved his hand down the side of her dress, playing for a moment at the hem, then slid up the remaining material all the way up to her hips. For a moment Jill felt like screaming, but then she realized it would do no good... practically everyone at the party was naked... they would think her a fool! There was nothing she could do but endure the large framed man's pawing of her voluptuous young body, and hope he'd suddenly lost interest.
But he didn't.
Her hands clutched at his fingers, trying to pry them loose from the grasp he now had on the softness of her inner thighs. "Oh no, stop... please... stop!" Jill moaned, but the chief editor ignored her pleas, continuing his obscene exploration until his fingers were caressing her fearfully cringing cuntal mound through the little white bikini panties.
"Now... baby, please open your legs," Johnson whispered lewdly, trying to insert his outstretched middle finger under the tight elastic leg band of her panties.
The horrified girl sat rigidly on the side of the bed. She was unable to comprehend that this vile person was the same man who only a few hours ago was warning her of the evil influence of her roommate. It seemed odd that he'd done that, but with his confession that he'd once made love to the platinum-haired girl, the realization that Randi might have something against the senior editor and that his complaints about her might be founded on a personal grudge focused with startling clarity in her mind.
"Godddd!" she cried out, pulling away when she felt his fingers brutally digging into the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. He squeezed again, sending a razor-sharp slice of pain rippling up her spine. Jill opened her legs a little and felt him loosen his grip.
"More!" Johnson commanded. "Wider!"
One of his hands gripped her shoulder and pushed her back so that the quivering young girl lay flat on the wide double bed, her dress raised completely up over her panties and her long, lithe legs splayed out far apart. He shifted his weight downward, now planting his hand over the smooth white nylon covering her loins.
Jill jerked up from the impact of his touch, but the vise-like grip of his hand now encircling her neck was too great. She fell back, jerking slightly once more when she felt his talon-like fingers dig into the soft pliant flesh of her buttocks. Then, groaning lewdly deep in his thrust, he yanked at the tight elastic waistband of her panties. The elastic snapped and almost before the terrified young girl realized what was happening, her panties were pulled down to her ankles in one vicious tug, exposing the entire secret area of her loins to the panting older man's lewd gaze.
"Oh, God, no, " she gasped at her own nakedness, trying to cover the softly curling black pubic hair between her legs with her hands. But it was useless. She felt her panties fall from her feet onto the floor, but when she reached out over the bed, trying to retrieve them, Johnson caught the top of her dress in his fingers, pulling the flared opening completely apart and tugging the dress from her back to drop it with her panties onto the floor.
"You make it so much harder, honey, than it really has to be," he said in a thin, sharp voice.
"It's not everyday I get raped," she snapped back at him, showing more spunk than the tall chestnut-haired man thought she had.
"Touche," Johnson said, "but it doesn't have to be like this," he repeated as she rolled her head away so that she wouldn't be forced to look at his passion-strained face.
Jill knew she had to give in. If it weren't for the fact that an orgy was going on in the next room, she supposed she would have been able to extricate herself from the situation, but now her protesting screams would mean absolutely nothing.
His hands coursed up her trembling young thighs, resting teasingly just below her raven-black pussy hair for an instant before they caressed the moistly waiting lips of her cunt. She shuddered at his touch, but he continued circling his fingers over her blushing pink pussy, spreading the wetly pulsating lips wide to expose her clitoris and bringing out the tiny pleasure center to thrusting erection.
Jill forced herself to remain still, knowing that she had to accept this despicable rape. She wanted to get it over with as soon as possible and it would be foolish of her to struggle against him, since he seemed to enjoy prolonging the painful process as long as he could.
"Now are you ready to cooperate, or do you think kicking around like this is going to take the place of me fucking you?" Johnson rasped in a liquor-slurred voice, his fingers continuing their maddening assault, caressing her warmly throbbing pussy. She tried to stifle a throaty mewl as her love-starved loins involuntarily moved with his finger. She tried to force herself to lie still and not react to the slowly building sensations that rippled out from her vaginal area... but she couldn't!
"Yessss... yessss... Miss Marlin," Johnson hissed, moving closer and straddling her legs as his hands worked over her hotly quivering cunt. "Now... reach in and take out my cock."
A low shudder of unexpected lust passed through Jill's struggling belly at his demand. She clenched her teeth tightly, fighting with all her strength at her unwanted sensuality, yet her will seemed to crumble as he coursed his hand over the smooth fleshy folds guarding the entrance to her virginal vagina. She could feel soft ripples of electric pleasure quivering in her hardening nipples beneath her brassiere, and she sensed the muscles in her full firm thighs relax. She rose toward Johnson, stretching out one hand to obediently stroke the outline of the large protuberance that bulged along his left flank.
"Dammmmmmmn!" he groaned and pivoted his groin closer to her fingers that deftly pulled at his belt. He wiggled forward, his stomach heaving against her belly, so that the zipper of his slacks was within easy grasp. She gripped the metal clasp of his pants, and slid it down slowly. The large bulge of his underpants sprang out instantly, bulging with the obscene thrust of his eagerly throbbing cock.
Despite her revulsion, Jill Marlin moved her hands greedily inside the white clasp of the man's shorts, immediately gripping her hands I around the warm pulsating penis that seemed to leap up into the glove-fitting warmth of her hand. She squeezed, tentatively at first, and pulled with her other hand at the band of his underwear, tugging his shorts and slacks down till they clung to Johnson's knees. The entire long length of his thick blue-veined cock stood out only a few inches from her eyes, the head swollen angrily and it's skin stretched so tightly that it seemed to shine. Her whole reaction was inexplicable and incomparable to anything she'd ever felt before. Her closeness to his throbbing virility under the bright lights of the bedroom gave her a complete view of the thick rod of male flesh in sharp detail, making the experience of seeing her boy friend's cock in the dim light of her family living room last summer seem pale and inconsequential by comparison.
"Let's take off our clothes now, honey," Johnson said, kissing her hungrily again. "There's no use messing around any longer."
Without waiting for his aroused brunette secretary to respond, and with his cock still thrust into her virginal hand, Gary undid the remaining buttons on her dress and unclasped her brassiere, exposing her proud young breasts to his obscene gaze. He let the brassiere drop carelessly to the floor, still fastening his gaze on her goose-bumped little nipples.
The ceiling whirled above Jill's head until it was blotted out by Johnson's leering face moving over hers, his mocking eyes laughing at her glazed look of defeat and hopeless acceptance of her position. He kicked his pants to the floor and began a slow grinding motion with his pelvis against her nakedly upturned loins, rubbing the blunt head of his cock against her warmly moistened cuntal lips. The monstrous blood-engorged head traced a tantalizing hot path of hungering need up and down the length of her wetly glistening slit, probing gently against it until the moist pussy lips parted and the sensitive under ridge of his fleshy hardness fit snugly within her warm cuntal furrow.
He ground slowly and steadily against her, causing a warm glowing sensation that tingled salaciously from the bud of her quivering little clitoris down through the swollen vaginal lips and into her warmly dilating cuntal passage. The thought that she had already given in, that she had not shown much of a fight against the man who panted over her, raced through her mind, her resistance had been partially broken down earlier that evening by the alcohol and the lust-inciting view of the participants in the orgy, but she now realized that she had decided to do this even before she'd accompanied Johnson into the bedroom. She had known that his suggestion that they meet Wilbur Kinsby, the enigmatic publisher, had been a ruse to get her in here... and perhaps, even before that, last week at lunch with Gary Johnson, she'd been planning unconsciously to permit herself to be seduced by him.
As the pleasure continued to mount in electric spasms around the muscular man's patient probings at her warmly moist vaginal opening, she began to rationalize away the need for more struggle against him. Yes, she had known before she had even felt his thick pulsating penis through his trousers that she would give in. All she needed was some kind of spark to reignite the fire that had begun two months ago in her quiet Mid-western home when her boy friend had come to premature orgasm and covered her eagerly quivering thighs with his too-impatient sperm. But now the desire was more than a symbolic need to lose her virginity: It was real, alive with eager lust flames that licked furiously through her virginal loins. But still... her conscious mind fought against the torment of his hotly teasing probes, fighting against surrender to it, although knowing he was only moments away from total victory.
"Nooo, nooo, please," she groaned beneath the face that pressed obscenely against her tear-stained cheeks, her hips suddenly betraying her resisting unconscious mind. Her softly fleshed buttocks moved in small circles, hardly perceptible at first, but rotating in slight undulating rhythm to the sluicing motion of his cock that rummaged over her hotly palpitating groin. The hair on his legs played against the tender backs of the upraised columns of her thighs, expanding the lewdly exciting sensation that burned in her loins and seared the tingling nerve endings of her ripe young pussy.
Almost reverently then, she lifted her knees up and around the older man's strained calves. Her heels hooked behind his knees and with a low moan of animal hunger her arms snaked around his neck, pulling his lips wetly down against hers. He jammed his tongue into her mouth and she sucked voraciously on it, soft mewling sounds escaping through the warmly sucking juncture of her lips. She undulated her hungering pussy mound in a few impatient thrusts against his hot pulsating hardness, trying to draw it into her wetly waiting cunt at once.
"Ooooh," she pled below him, sucking up against his lips as his tongue took complete mastery of her mouth.
Johnson used the large rubbery head of his thick cock to part her softly curling pussy hairs, meeting only a slight resistance at the hot searing entrance to her passage. Pausing for a moment, he nuzzled his lust-swollen tip around in a throbbing semi-circle until her tight little cuntal mouth suddenly gave and his virile hardness sluiced warmly inside her virginal cunt.
"Aaaiiieee! God... stop, you're hurting me!" She jerked and screamed as he painfully ruptured at her seal and symbol of virginity, feeling her hymen ripping like tissue paper with his next merciless thrust through the tight passage. The sensation was sharp and more agonizing emotionally than she had expected the loss of her innocence to be... the vicious way her virginity was being taken from her did not match with her childhood vision of what had once been a cherished, almost religious moment of mutual ecstasy between her and her partner.
Her mind was split between revulsion and a kind of pleasurable wonder at the way his hotly throbbing cock felt as it wormed its way through the tight clasping folds of her painfully stretched cunt. Deep, deep he plunged in wildly jerking movements coming from the pit of his loins with a sudden animal-like fury that matched the gritting man's lust-contorted appearance. Jill groaned, her lips opening and closing spasmodically and her tongue running lightly over her pain-tightened lips.
"Ooooh, yessss," he moaned as his cum-filled balls slapped against her defenselessly upturned buttocks, her tight little pussy opening wetly for him as the impact of his thrust drove her trembling young thighs even wider apart.
The length and thickness of Johnson's huge throbbing cock was even greater than Jill had imagined when she had first plucked it from his shorts, and it seemed now to fill her vaginal cavity completely, brimming out at its base from her clinging pussy Ups and forcing her tightly fitting passage wider than she thought was humanly possible. She gurgled up at him, suddenly wanting to be fucked to the point of being hurt... a strange desire, she thought, for the first time doing it... she wanted to feel every ounce of her innocent womanhood being subjugated to the cruel impaling thrusts of the man she'd known for scarcely a week. It was as though in giving herself to him she was erasing a past that had always been an embarrassment to her. She wanted to leap into the future, to become a complete woman... and in a grotesque way she connected her defilement with a blind, mindless plunge into the forbidden pleasure that now awaited her as an adult. It was all an insane jumble in her mind, and she hardly cared at this point what motivated her to give herself like a whore to the gray-eyed man who fucked so thrillingly into the tight clasping portals of her femaledom.
Something had snapped inside her.
She found herself crooning lewd obscenities into Johnson's ear, at the same time feeling a delicious relief, as though the years of puritanical repression had damned up a flood of lewdness deep inside her. She murmured words like shit and fuck and cunt and others that she had made up herself from the wealth of slavish lust that had lain dormant for so many years beyond her facade of normalcy and middle-class respectability.
"Oh shit, fuck me you bastard, screw me, you fucking bastard," she screamed, deliberately digging her nails into his rhythmically pumping buttocks.
Johnson gloated above her, knowing that he had ignited her fire... and that he could put it out.
He pivoted up on his knees and elbows above her crazily thrashing body, permitting her tight little cunt to suck up and down the pulsating length of his rock-hard shaft at will.
"Oh yes, fuck me like that, do it, do it!" she repeated hoarsely, her voice rising an octave in delight.
Johnson slipped his hands under her quivering young ass-cheeks, cupping one in each hand. The shamelessly aroused secretary flexed and unflexed her buttocks beneath his fingers, and he jerked her harder up to his loins, feeling her pull her thighs back a little more, the moistly flowering opening of her pussy dilating and clasping around his racing cock with each cruel thrust and withdrawal he made into her.
Johnson was surprised at the hot responsiveness of the young virgin. She'd been resistant at first, but when the little bitch got going, there was no stopping her. From the first day she'd stepped into his office, he'd wanted to get into her hot little pants. As he squeezed and fondled the naked rounded globes, he recalled how Jill Marlin had looked on Monday with her miniskirt exposing her firm young thighs and the full points of her breasts dancing seductively as he had walked beside her down Lexington Avenue to the restaurant.
Slowly and methodically, he slid one hand toward the tight little aperture of her anus, resting his extended finger on the sweat- dampened flesh of her puckering anal opening. He felt her soft warm buttocks tense up beneath his hands when he poked at the moistly unprotected crevice and then felt her push back, voluntarily impaling herself on his outstretched finger. With a sudden stab he pushed into it, feeling the soft rubbery flesh yielding before his attack.
"Aaaaaggghhh!" she squealed up at him, wiggling her smoothly pumping ass-cheeks around in his cupping hands.
He thrust forward with his hips, driving his rock-hard cock deep in her wetly throbbing pussy and groaned in satisfaction as she came down hard with her buttocks, completing the outrageous attack against her defenseless rectum herself.
The lewdly grinning man had lodged his finger all the way up to the second knuckle within his new secretary's tiny rubbery anus. He wormed it around, curling the fingertip so that he could feel the ridge of his own cock through the thin membrane that separated the two passages. The defenseless young woman rotated her buttocks tentatively on the shaft, gasps of pain-pleasure bubbling from her lips as she jerked up and down with her hotly palpitating cunt on the thick fleshy stalk of his cock that continued fucking incessantly into her. The coinciding rhythms of the dual invasion pinioned her tightly so that each thrust and counterthrust of her wantonly writhing buttocks seemed to send her naked young torso into buffeting spasms of lust-incited fury, her long brunette hair spilling in a wild dark tangle over the pillow and her legs snaking lewdly around his gyrating thighs.
"Oooooh, yes, stick your finger up my ass like that, Gary, fuck me, yeeees, fuck me," she commanded in a voice that was almost incoherent with desire.
She moved one hand close between the hot convacity of their loins and pushed her fingers below until they came to rest on the sac of his sperm-inflated balls. They felt soft and velvety, and beneath their fleshy folds she could feel the contours of his testicles resting gently against the tips of her fingers. She squeezed lightly and ever so softly, caressing the delicate ridge between them and moving slowly upwards toward the base of his cock that sprang up from the thick coarse hair of his loins like a hammer handle. She could feel his own hand with its finger in her anus barely a half inch from where her own fingers rested and from moment to moment the two hands brushed each other as they continued their erotic pillaging of one another's secret parts.
"Jeeesssssus," the older man moaned when she reached down again and gripped the balloon-like sac of his testicles more firmly in her hand. He increased the strength of his thrusts, driven on by her gentle ministrations, ramming the entire length of his pile-driving cock all the way into the deepest hidden recesses of her cunt. She could feel the blunt rubbery head strike against her cervix as it completed its long smooth stroke. He pulled his lust-hardened cock out more slowly than he had driven it in, and the soft moist ridges of her pussy gripped his hardness as though reluctant to let it go.
"Oooooh, God, oh so good, so goooood," she groaned as though in anguish, her fiery vaginal depths hot and moistening rapidly in her pleasure, while the rubbery channel of her rectum was filled now with two of his fingers that continued fucking her from behind.
Johnson pulled back his head so that he could watch the voluptuous small-framed girl's face. It was something her boss couldn't miss, the sudden humiliating surrender of her whole being to him who had tom her virginity from her in a forced rape-seduction she'd been powerless to fight against. A few short hours ago she'd been as pure and virginal as the snow that probably covered her small Mid-western hometown at Christmas time, and now she was writhing and twisting like a mindless whore beneath him, unable to control at all her wild desire to be fucked by his hotly plunging cock and sodomized by his fingers. Yes, it was lewd, it was depraved, and he couldn't help feeling a strange sense of vengeful power sweep over him. The feeling was intensified when he thought of how he would be able to manipulate the girl after he was through with her for the night. The power that he had lost over Randi, who had now grown too goddamn sophisticated for him and had taken up with Sam Borden, was his once more, and it made what he was doing to this naive girl trembling in the throes of near-orgasm seem all the more delicious and brutally satisfying.
"Oooh, oh, deeper, harder, fuck me, fuck me," she begged, gasping as though she were close to death. Wet smacking sounds reverberated through the luxuriously furnished bedroom, echoing back to Jill's consciousness as though she were confronting the horrified vision of her second self. In a dim part of her mind she was aware of the complete depravity of the scene. She knew that in the next room people were doing lewd obscene things to each other... knew also that giving herself to Gary Johnson was equivalent to whoring her body in order to save her job, even though that job wasn't as important as the act which would temporarily salvage it. As she peered up into Johnson's face, it seemed as though the portrait of Wilbur Kinsby hanging from the wall winked at her. She turned her face away from it, feeling more naked than she actually was, and gave herself completely to the man who fucked into her like a wild stallion.
Her sensual young body was slick with moisture. The area above her eagerly quivering breasts was wet with perspiration, and the sloping area of her pussy mound was hot with the mingled lust-juices that seemed to spill out in an unending flow from her moistly dilating vagina. With each loud slap of his balls on the wet crevice of her ass she could feel more of her excited secretions pulse out, combining into a sense-picture in her mind with every lewd detail of his obscene pummeling body: The double shaft of his two fingers worming inside her tightly stretched rectum merged also with the incessant jerking of his hotly growing cock until the two skewering shafts became one impaling sword up on which she writhed like a stuck squealing pig.
"Oh shit, Gary, do it! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she chanted into his lust-contorted face. She was nearing orgasm and swung her thighs up higher and wound them around his back, waving her wantonly writhing buttocks in uncontrolled abandon from side to side and spiraling her cunt up and down crazily on his thick ramming cock.
"I'm cumming, I'm cumming," she suddenly cried, locking her ankles in a death grip high up on his laboring back. Her nakedly convulsing body shook and arched high as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled Johnson's face close to her own.
She felt the muscles of her groin expand and contract, her hotly pulsating cuntal lips grasping around his hard-driving cock as a hot flood of orgasmic fluid flowed down the wide-split crevice of her ass to inundate his sperm-filled balls and his fingers thrust into her frantically puckering anus.
The wildness of the naked young brunette's orgasm started an aching pressure in Johnson's loins, and suddenly he felt his cum-filled balls explode. He pulled his fingers from her rectum and dug his hands into the soft flesh of her wildly rotating buttocks and drew her nakedly thrashing body up in mid-air as great gasps of passion began spewing from his own throat.
"Oh, Christ, oh!" his voice cracked, and his lips contorted and face flushed as his climax ripped through him. His strokes increased to their peak of fury; his pelvis smacked like a flat board against her eagerly upthrust belly as the first spurt of his geysering hot cum shot out from the head of his cock and exploded deep down into the liquid depths of her vanquished pussy.
The two of them pulled slowly away from each other. Moments later, their limbs still entwined, Jill finally became aware of where she was and suddenly she felt the full weight of her lewdly abandoned actions upon her. She stood up from the large double bed and began gathering her clothing that had been strewn carelessly onto the floor.
"You did just fine, honey," Gary Johnson looked languidly across at the girl whose voluptuous profile reflected back at him from a mirror over the bureau.
"You think so?" she dropped her eyes coldly onto his flushed body lying outstretched on the bed.
There was a strange new quality in her voice that Johnson hadn't noticed before, and he drew himself up against the headboard of the bed.
"I'm glad." She spun around, her large melony breasts quivering as she dipped to the floor to pick up her panties that had slipped from her hands. "I think Mr. Kinsby approves as well." She gazed at the large portrait hanging above the bed.
Gary Johnson was unable to see the small droplets of tears forming on Jill's brimming eyelids, nor from his perspective across the room could he make out her sudden rash of goose-pimples that rushed around the fully ripened orbs of her breasts and shot down the smooth naked length of her back into her violated loins.
CHAPTER FIVE
Through the last days of September and early October Jill Marlin worked late each day at Femme Magazine, typing additional manuscripts and editing extra copy. There was no earthly reason she had to do this, but it made her day pass quickly and helped her forget her troubles.
On weekends she'd leave the apartment early in the morning and spend most of her day exploring New York. The long walks up and down the criss-crossing avenues and side streets were inevitably accompanied by thoughts the pretty young brunette had tried to escape by leaving the apartment. Had she been a terrible fool in letting Gary Johnson make love to her that fateful night at the company party? During the three weeks since it had happened she'd managed to establish a rather cool and distant relationship with the senior editor and his staff, and it almost seemed as though Gary had forgotten the incident.
It was doubtful that he'd given the encounter much importance, Jill thought; he was probably used to things of that order happening to him, but to her the obscene act of submission and her subsequent pleasure that had been impossible to conceal represented a dramatic turning point in her life. She had changed incalculably, and had grown somewhat bitter. She supposed, in the long run, the long-awaited surrender of her virginity was a good thing, though she wished it could have happened in a gentler, more loving manner. In subtle ways the reactions of people around her had changed too. The following week after the party Randi and Sam had avoided her glances, and she guessed that they had known she'd given herself to her boss, if not through supposition then by hearing it from Gary himself.
Now, as she entered Central Park, the autumn sunlight filtering through the red and gold colored leaves and the relative quiet of the afternoon transformed the disturbing quality of her thoughts into tranquil musings. Leaving the apartment this morning, she'd seen Randi standing in her robe with a cigarette and a cup of coffee, peering abstractly out the window. The voluptuous blonde, seeing Jill, had hunched up her shoulders as though a sudden draft had blown across the room. The gesture seemed to shun Jill, to brand her as an outcast, but then her roommate had said in her soft melodic voice, "Why don't we have lunch in the park this afternoon. Around two o'clock. I've something important to talk to you about."
There had been a strange tone to the girl's short, clipped phrase which had steeled the petite dark-haired young woman, perhaps unnecessarily, to their meeting which was to take place in a few minutes here at the shaded juncture of two paths and a row of hedges that gave onto the edge of the park. Jill didn't know why the two of them couldn't talk about whatever Randi had in mind in the apartment, but the older girl liked little intrigues and frequently played a guessing game.
There was one thing Jill had tried to force out of her mind that had occurred a few nights after that party, and maybe the meeting of today had something to do with this. On Monday night of the following week, Randi had complained of a backache and a splitting migraine, and had asked Jill to give her a back-rub. It seemed, at the time, a reasonable enough request, and the small-framed girl had come alongside Randi on her large double bed and begun rubbing and kneading at the firm smoothness of the blonde's nakedly exposed back, massaging the taut contours of flesh along her rib-cage on down to the tapering narrowness of her voluptuous roommate's waist.
Lighting a cigarette, Jill now recalled how warm Randi's smoothly arching back had felt, and remembered how the girl's well-proportioned body had begun undulating to the tender ministrations of her working fingers. "God, Jill, that really feels good," Randi had turned and smiled pleasurably. "Move your hand on down to my ass... yesssss, like that, just squeeze it a little and make it feel relaxed."
Jill, dressed in her flimsy white nightgown, had slid her hands down the naked white curve of Randi's warmly fleshed buttocks, squeezing and massaging the ripe full moons in her hands until a warm tingling sensation began to race uncontrollably through her own young body.
"That's enough," Randy had suddenly turned over, facing her. Jill's eyes tried to avoid the gently uplifting spheres of her roommate's large pink-nippled breasts, but the gesture of shyness called attention to itself. "Let me do it to you, honey," Randi had said. "There's nothing to be afraid of. We're not lesbians!"
Jill had laughed nervously, feeling her own body commanding her to submit to the same thing she'd been doing to Randi. She'd pulled off her transparent negligee, dropping it at the foot of the bed and lay face-down beside the blonde. She had felt a warning shudder pass through her at the girl's touch, but soon relaxed as her soothing hands began coursing with tender erotic strokes over the smooth upstanding ridges of her spine, down -- as her own hands had coursed -- to the firm raised cheeks of her ass.
"Mmmmmm," Jill had sighed, feeling the relief her girl friend had promised.
Soon the sensations of relaxation were changing perceptibly into gently building little tingles of pleasure. Unconsciously, Jill had rubbed the silken hair-covered mound of her hungering young pussy into the mattress as the magic hands had continued to move up and down the small of her back and over the firmly rounded curvatures of her buttocks. She had known, she recalled now, that what they were doing was going past the stage of physical therapy and entering the limbo of sensuality beyond which there was the deliciously forbidden promise of sexual pleasure. Yet she permitted Randi's hands to continue on in teasingly insistent strokes over the lush nakedness of her buttocks and down for an obscenely threatening moment over the sleek, hairless flesh of her inner thighs. Jill had shifted onto her side, and suddenly Randi's hand stroked up her back and across her arm to the full quivering mound of her left breast, pausing to taunt her warmly tingling nipple into hardness with a knowing feminine touch. Then she trailed down her ribs tantalizingly as Jill shifted her position until they were facing each other.
In overwhelming disbelief, Jill had stared wide-eyed at the voluptuously curving body of the girl whose intimate touches were exciting beyond anything she believed at that moment a man could offer her... experienced touches, educated by a woman's intuition, and informed by a feminine desire to have those soft lewd caresses reciprocated in kind.
"Maybe we should stop," Jill had protested while Randi's lushly naked body seemed to tremble as it pressed with a salacious and provocative tightness against her own.
"We're not doing anything wrong!" Randi had chided softly, her lips parting only to emit the words, then moistening from a suggestive swirl of her tongue that seemed a lewd invitation to kiss her openly on the mouth. But Jill didn't; she had risen from the bed, her confidence in herself badly shaken, and had trudged silently down the hall to her own bedroom.
Nothing had been said about the incident, but Jill knew there was a residue of feeling about what had occurred that lingered erotically between the two of them. Now she looked at her watch and saw that it was after two, and Randi still hadn't shown up. She sat back against the park bench, letting a cool breeze through the foliage flow caressingly against her back. Her thoughts of Randi and her friendship with the girl slowly merged with vague questions in her mind about what she planned to do with her job; but as always she couldn't bring herself to confront the problem. She knew she had to make a decision soon, yet as the days slipped by she had postponed it, as though the very act of thinking about it would bring back the painful recollection of her lewd shameful submission to Gary Johnson.
Speaking of Gary Johnson, Jill's eyes and mind slipped from abstraction into the reality of a man's tall form walking down the path beneath the trees toward her. It was the senior editor of the magazine and he was alone. Jill's mind suddenly became a jumble of unanswered questions. She felt her stomach tighten and her long tapering legs tremble in a premonition that also registered in a sudden quickening of her heartbeat.
"I know you've been expecting Randi," Johnson said as he approached her.
"You caught me thinking about you," Jill looked up at his handsome sun-covered face.
"That must have been exciting." He dropped down on the wooden park bench beside her.
"Not really, just confusing. Probably just coincidental," she said.
"Randi couldn't come. I was at the apartment while Sam and she were there, and couldn't help overhearing her talking to Sam," he said.
"Just what is all this about?"
"I warned Randi if she bothered you about anything I'd have her job. I know I pushed you a little too far at the company party, and I figured you'd had it."
"To tell you the truth, I have," she said, turning toward him, "but what does this have to do with you being here and Randi not showing up.
"I happened to eavesdrop on an interesting conversation... Randi and Sam knew about us... the two of them got wind about what we were doing at Kinsby's party, and Randi's threatening to tell the boss about it."
"Surely what we did was no worse than what was going on in the next room," Jill said, recalling the scene in the large orgiastic chamber adjoining the bedroom they'd gone into that night.
"Yeah, but there are company rules about stuff like that." He paused and lit a cigarette. "Anything goes at Kinsby's brawls as long as everybody is properly initiated into the club. Everybody's got to be willing to participate."
"I can hardly say I was willing," she said, and then in a faltering tone added, "I suppose she's got some kind of little scheme worked out."
"Exactly," he said with an uneasy shift of his weight closer to her. "But there's nothing much she can do now. I've got her in a position where she'd be crazy if she said anything to Kinsby. Absolutely crazy."
"You mean her job? What difference would it make if he knew?" she said rather angrily, resenting the fact that she'd bothered to stay on at the magazine after the night of the party.
"I hope Kinsby trusts my word over Randi's. That's the only thing I can hope for."
Jill stood up. "I think I'll go home. This whole thing leaves a sour taste in my mouth."
"Mine, too." He rose from the bench. "Mind if I walk you back to the apartment?"
CHAPTER SIX
Sam and Randi had hidden themselves in the bathroom when they heard Jill and her boss' voices out in the hall. Randi, grappling for the light switch in the dark, bumped awkwardly against the short thickly built man, and he stepped on her right foot. There was a loud smack as the girl lost her balance and fell crashing against the side of the tub.
"Damnit, Sam, how can you be so clumsy?" she raised her voice painfully at him through the darkness.
He helped the girl up off the floor. "Better leave the light off. We want to get some good pictures of this. It would destroy everything if the girl sees us," he whispered.
"I wonder if Gary knows what he's doing. It's going to be hard getting her going the way she was at Kinsby's again."
"I wouldn't worry about it," Sam Borden lowered his voice. "Let's just hope we don't mess up."
Randi sat down on the edge of the tub, making out the dim silhouette of the man standing by the sink. "It depends on a lot of things," she said, trying to make herself comfortable on the porcelain-topped siding of the bath. "Open the door a crack and see what they're doing."
Sam slipped the door gently from the jamb, and gradually wedged it open until a centimeter of light shone into the bathroom. Then he closed it again. "He's making her a drink."
"I wonder how many it's going to take?" Randi said with exasperation.
"If you hadn't been so goddamned left-handed at the party we might have gotten the pictures then," Sam sighed, and crouched down on the floor.
"It was you who got plastered, if I recall," Randi hissed across at him.
"Honey," he reached across the narrow tiled floor and patted her leg, "you can't take pictures without film. You were the one who forgot to load the fucking camera."
"Open the door and see what they're doing," Randi said.
A crack of light shot into the room and then it was dark again. "He must have made a pass at her," Sam turned to the girl sitting on the edge of the tub. "She's crying. He's doing okay, though. They're on the couch. Gary's got his arm around her and he's kissing her neck."
"How delightful," Randi said. "Has he got her blouse off yet?"
"Christ!" He inched the door open wider. "He's running his goddamn hand over her tits and she's not doing anything."
"Does she like it?" Randi asked anxiously. "Like I said, she's not doing anything. But she looks excited. She's got this funny habit of trying to pull away from him, but each time she does it, he pushes down against her on the sofa." Randi could hear a low moaning sound coming through the door. "What's happening now?"
"He just kissed her." Sam turned to her in the darkness and then peered through the crack. "Now she's kissing him back. It's definitely not rape this time. Man, this would make a great movie!"
"With you as star producer and director!" Randi laughed quietly.
"You're wrong, baby." Sam didn't turn from the door. "Wilbur Kinsby's the impresario of this production."
"I hope he's dam well satisfied with the work we do for him," Randi said.
"Now he's taking off her blouse," Sam said hoarsely. "He's got it off and he's unsnapped her brassiere, he paused and swallowed. "Christ, what a pair of knockers she's got. Man, would I like to get my hands on those!"
"Hold your horses," Randy said softly. "What's happening now?"
"He's licking and sucking her tits."
Randi felt a tingling warmth rush feather-like through her loins. She could imagine her brunette roommate's full sensuous breasts cupped warmly in Gary Johnson's hands, could almost feel the way the chief editor's fingers felt coursing over the nakedly full mounds. She raised her hands to her own lushly ripe breasts and squeezed one of her nipples through her sweater with thumb and forefinger. "What's happening now?" she asked excitedly.
"Jesus!" Sam leaned closer against the door. "What's happening?"
"He's still sucking her tits."
"Does she like it?"
"Well, she's not too disturbed about it. Gary's got a hard-on that won't quit. You can see it through his pants."
"God, I've got to see!" Randi stood from the tub and came alongside her boy friend.
Randi's eyes took time adjusting to the sudden glare coming from the crack, but gradually her eyes focused on the nakedly rounded mounds of Jill's breasts that seemed to be shimmering in and out of the older man's hands. It was extraordinary, but the girl's hand had slipped down to Gary's thigh, and she was running her palm softly up and down his straining pants' leg.
"Incredible!" Sam whistled beneath his breath.
"Like magic," Randi said. "Should I get the camera?"
"No, wait. There's more yet."
If Jill had given in almost willingly this time, it was because she'd begun to feel, during the brief hour she'd spent with Gary this afternoon, an inexplicable attachment to the man. After surrendering her virginity to him, she had an insatiable need to feel wanted and not shunned by him, and now that he'd told her of Randi and Sam's blackmailing scheme, in a vague, undefined way she felt a sense of solidarity with Gary Johnson that each of his warm caresses was transforming into the burgeoning physically charged sensation of lust. There was no fear this time when he'd removed her blouse and brassiere and begun sucking and kneading her quiveringly aroused breasts, nor did she freeze as she'd done before when he asked her to reach down and touch his stiffly throbbing cock.
They peeled off their clothes from their bodies quickly, leaving Gary in his shorts and Jill dressed only in her seductively sheer white panties. The young brunette's hands trailed down his chest and, as she looked over his large muscular torso reclining below her full-length on the couch, she experienced a sudden overwhelming sense of joy, knowing this time she needn't struggle from him, that now she would be the one to do things to him while he lay back lewdly to receive her.
"Christ, your hands feel good," he grinned warmly up at the lust-incited girl seated beside him on the couch.
"And your body feels delicious, too!" she said, circling her fingers over the slight paunch of his otherwise muscularly taut stomach. Her hands came down to the waistband of his underpants and with a deft delicate thrust of her thumbs beneath the tight elastic clasp she tugged them slowly down, pushing one hand beneath his buttocks to pull the shorts all the way to his knees.
He kicked them onto the floor.
"Now it's my turn," she said with a little grin, "to rape you!"
"Jesus, you've changed. What prompted this?" he groaned as she trailed her lips across the sensitive skin of his stomach while her hands suddenly reached and clasped tightly around his lust-stiffened shaft of cock, then scraped lightly down its entire length, causing its head to rear up in a flicking movement.
"I've been thinking. I have nothing to lose now that we've already... fucked," she said bravely and began stroking him up and down in a slow tormenting movement that caused his cock to begin pulsating painfully in eagerness.
The voluptuous brunette rose up on her knees on the edge of the living room couch and hovered nakedly over him on all fours, her face a few scant inches from the massively throbbing head of his penis. She held it tightly between both hands, stroking it between the flat of her palms in a teasing up and down motion that caused his loins to undulate in time to the maddening rhythm.
"When you make a decision, you really go all out," he gasped as she continued to stroke wantonly up and down on his impatiently pulsing penis.
"I'm a little uncomfortable hanging on the edge of the couch like this," she murmured down at him. "Why don't we get down on the floor?"
She pried up his buttocks and quickly he pushed off the cushions, half-falling and half-spilling from the couch. She came down beside him, but not before she had peeled her flimsy little panties down over her thighs and dropped them on top of the pile of his clothes on the lush-carpeted floor. Then she resumed her kneeling position above his loins.
A moment later, her head dropped slowly toward his eagerly pulsing hardness. Suddenly Jill's tongue flicked forward, the tip boring teasingly into the tiny glans opening at the end.
Gary sucked in his breath as he felt the searing contact of her wetly parted lips slowly embrace his entire lust-swollen cock-head. Tingling chills ran down the back of his spine, and he groaned, thrusting his hips slightly upward. She moved her warmly salivating mouth further down, and he could feel her lips tightening like an elastic band just below the head, trapping it completely inside the warm wet cavern of her mouth.
"Christ, where in the hell did you learn that?" he moaned, raising his neck so that he could see her devilishly pretty face working over his hardness. The view of her cheeks puffed out over the upper length of his long fleshy staff increased the delicious sucking sensation a thousandfold. He groaned at the sight of her sucking so hungrily on his cock, her lips ovalling wetly over his trunk-like shaft and her cheeks bulging from the size of his blood-inflated head.
She massaged the soft resilient flesh of his testicles with one hand and stroked the base of his cock between thumb and forefinger with the other as she began to suck and bob her head rhythmically up and down. He could feel her tongue twirling maddeningly at the apex of the withdrawal, then swirl and flutter beneath the heart-shaped curve of the head as she sucked in on the withdrawal. He tightened and flexed his buttocks, his head raised, watching the black silkiness of her hair rise and fall softly on his belly while she bobbed her head up and down below him.
The building pleasure of her soft warm mouth working slavishly below and the constant fondling of his cum-filled balls sent a churning swirl of heat boiling through his lower extremities -- a heat that found its utmost intensity just below the hotly throbbing head of his cock.
Jill could feel his reaction and began to suck his massive thickness a little harder, the tips of her teeth digging gently into the rubbery resisting flesh, leaving small white trails where they had scraped the blood from beneath the surface of the skin. She put her whole self into her sucking, loving every inch of his long thick hardness. And this is the first time I've ever done it, she thought, yet it seems so natural, as if I'd sucked on him before. How did it happen? What makes it so easy for me to draw my lips around his wonderfully warm penis and suck and suck and suck... Her thoughts trailed off as she moved from her position next to his straining thigh without disengaging her tightly compressed lips from his cock and subserviently kneeled on all fours between his open legs, instinctively sensing that he enjoyed watching her mouth as it slid up and down over his wetly glistening penis. Then she pressed in more closely to his thighs, playing with her fingers beneath the velvety sac of his testicles just below the soft skin of his anus, sucking rapidly up and down at the same time.
"Ohhhh, yeah, baby suck, shit, suck my cock!" he grunted as the voluptuous brunette continued her lewd sucking below him, her body beginning to glisten from the tiny droplets of sexually excited sweat forming over her skin. He dropped his head to the pillow, groaning deeply, and tried to blot out the fact that in a moment Randi and Sam would be in the room, snapping pictures. He wanted to have a go at this achingly pretty brunette at least one more time without it being interrupted. But he didn't feel sorry for what would happen to her in a few short minutes. He was out for himself, and if the nefarious Wilbur Kinsby wanted the photographs for his own depraved ends, well, he'd damn well get them...
"Un hunh, suck it, come on, baby, suck my cock," he hissed, half at the girl above him and half at the image he had in his mind of Sam and Randi, who were probably excited beyond control by watching from the bathroom as the naked girl worked her virginal young mouth over his painfully throbbing cock. Within his balls he felt a pressure and tightness that responded to the moistly clasping warmness of her expanding and contracting cheeks. His penis felt as if it would explode any moment like the bursting of a giant lead-filled balloon; it stiffened achingly with each successive stroke of her talented lips, and he shoved his loins hard up against her contorted face, hearing her protesting gurgle that went unheeded in his quest for the final end of this torture that was building and shrieking for its spasmodic release from his semen-inflated testicles.
And then it came!
His wildly throbbing penis began a sudden jerking motion and spewed with a vengeance the hot jets of cum deep into her greedily gulping throat. Jill groaned as she continued sucking, and her Adam's apple bobbed in rapid rhythm, voraciously swallowing the hot gushing sperm squirting into her mouth. She pursed her lips in a tight elastic ring around the jerking shaft, swirling her tongue around the pulsating head as he kept up his powerful ejaculation.
"Fuck... damnit, keep on sucking," he coughed as he clamped his hands on her face, ramming his thick exploding cock convulsively farther, deeper and deeper until he felt its hotly erupting head touch the very back of her dilating throat.
Jill didn't see the flash of the Polaroid camera as she brought Gary Johnson to his wildly orgasming climax. Her mind was fixed only on bringing pleasure to the sweat-soaked thrashing male body beneath her on the carpet as Sam and Randi entered the living room.
Sam aimed the camera from behind the couch at an oblique angle, catching her face midway down the wildly jerking shaft. In another instant he was beside her, snapping away, and reinserting new flashbulbs into the expensive land camera. All told, he'd gotten about ten shots of her -- most of them good, he thought -- before the gradually deflating shaft slipped from Jill's mouth. As she continued licking and sucking on the moist rubbery penis, Randi came up beside Sam.
"Let's do it this way, Sam," she said, planting her hand firmly on his erect cock beneath his pants. "I'm really turned on!"
Borden needed no urging. He dropped his shirt to the floor and then pulled down his slacks, exposing the monstrous fleshy shaft of his cock which he began jerking lewdly back and forth in his clasping hand.
Jill turned languidly from her chestnut-haired boss and swayed back, gasping as she saw Sam. "You!" she exclaimed, looking from the short stocky man to Randi and back to Johnson lying on the floor.
"Just relax," Randi commanded, pulling off her sweater to reveal the nakedly quivering mounds of her breasts to Jill's startled gaze. "We're going to fuck together. Won't that be fun!"
Jill scrambled to her feet, but without waiting a moment longer Sam Borden was upon her. The short stocky man thrust her voluptuous young body to the floor, pushing down on her shoulder so that she lay out directly in front of Johnson.
"It was all made up," Jill shrieked at Johnson. "You rotten bastard! You planned all this! You don't even like me! You just want to use me!"
"It's time we put some sense into you," Randi crouched down nakedly on the carpet just above her head. The provocatively sexy blonde stroked Jill's long flowing hair, making soft cooing noises. "Remember when I gave you that back rub? Didn't it feel good? Remember, honey?"
"Get away from me! All of you, get out!" Jill screamed, thrashing back and kicking her long tapering legs up at Johnson who jumped to his feet.
"This is my house, and I dare you to tell me to leave," Randi looked furiously down at her.
Desperately, Jill struggled against Borden's hands now pressing into the sloping area above her breasts and her smooth sloping shoulders. Her heart pounded in anger and humiliation, realizing suddenly that Randi and the short stocky man had watched her sucking on Johnson's cock.
"Move her onto her side, I want to do this up back," Borden said, sliding down beside the struggling Jill as Randi knelt next to the frightened brunette and tipped Jill onto her side. The brunette secretary kicked and writhed her body helplessly, but the obscene strength of the young woman and two men were too much for her.
Through her daze, she felt Borden's fingers sink into the softly curving flesh of her buttocks and draw her quivering ass-cheeks apart. She tried to keep them tightly clenched together, but she wasn't able to as he applied the full force of his strength. Her legs fell open and she shivered as a cool rush of air coursed over the delicately sweating crevice of her exposed and vulnerable behind.
The wildly trembling young secretary could hear him suck in his breath as the tiny puckered ring of her defenseless little anus came into view, and she flexed tightly at the inner sinews of her rear passage in a desperate effort to prevent the cruel penetration she knew was coming. Her whole body stiffened as Sam's hand sank directly into the crevice and his outstretched middle finger began probing gently at the fearfully puckering anal opening.
She jumped as the finger mercilessly pushed forward and sank with a sharp rasping pain as far as the first knuckle. The short stocky man didn't stop there, and without giving her a moment to adjust to the strange unnatural presence shoved the finger steadily deeper to the second knuckle.
His nail caught in the soft rubbery flesh lining of the tightly resisting walls, sending a momentary harshly biting pain through her. She groaned and slithered from her side onto her stomach a few inches up the carpet toward Randi. But the effort to escape was useless.
"Oh, don't, please don't. You're hurting me," she moaned hoarsely.
"Sorry about this, baby," she heard Gary Johnson's voice coming from the couch. Looking up from her prone position, she could see him sitting on the edge of the long divan, signs of a new erection stiffening his long thick cock that he held lewdly in one of his hands.
Tears of shame and humiliation began to stream down her cheeks as she realized that she was about to be obscenely sodomized by this man she barely knew. Added to what she had just done to Gary -- naively thinking that sucking his penis was a gesture of affection and tenderness between them when all it meant to the older man was a means to this depraved end -- the young brunette felt suddenly whorish. The last shreds of her virtue were about to be expunged from her... there would be nothing left to retain of her former self except memories... memories that were now as indistinct as the murmuring sound of traffic coming from several floors below on the street.
The knowledge that she had willingly gotten into this situation had now weakened Jill's resistance to the point where she found it impossible to keep struggling. Her body was growing delirious, and her strength was draining fast. There was a solution, but she had avoided it in the first startling moments, and that was to give in. To let the three of them do what they wished... and to drink in the final dregs of her degradation. Above her Jill could see Randi, kneeling a few inches from her face, running an extended middle finger up and down the exposed, pinkly glistening slit of her own vagina as the blonde watched Borden fondle and prod lasciviously at Jill's frantically quivering buttocks. The sight repulsed and fascinated the girl... she unconsciously let the whole of her backside go limp, a separate sinister part of her mind urging her to let herself be used as Borden desired.
She steeled herself to avoid pain. This was the ultimate in humiliation, she sobbed, feeling the short stocky man's fingers digging cruelly into her rear passage, widening and expanding it mercilessly as he twisted and turned the two thick fingers in the tight narrow hole preparing it for his coming assault. A slight "swooshing" sound of air accompanied the withdrawal and increased the feeling of utter shame and degradation. She allowed Borden to force her legs wide with his knees, but flushed deeply as she imagined the leering expressions flickering over the hard cruel faces of the two men and the woman hovering around her while they peered at her nakedly defenseless little anus that Borden would violate brutally in the next few minutes. She jerked again when he leaned forward to drop a large drop of spittle from his lips to moisten and lubricate his entry.
"Kneel up!" he suddenly commanded in a crude harsh voice, totally confident of his obscene power over her.
As he had expected, she complied without hesitation, jerking her hips up to a kneeling position, causing her ripely swaying breasts to dance beneath her naked torso. Her buttocks were high in the air, completely defenseless against the obscene anal assault about to begin. Her tightly clenched anus puckered in fear and helplessness.
Sam knelt up behind her and placed his open hands on her cringing ass-cheeks, drawing them firmly apart. The length of his hot throbbing cock slid up and down the saliva-lubricated crevice, teasing her obscenely, and his penis seemed to grow to even greater size from the lewd contact. He levered himself up on his arms and pressed slightly with his hips for a moment, nudging his rock-hard cock straight into the little opening between her tightly clenched buttocks. It was so huge! She could never take that up inside her rectum without ripping her belly in half! Before she could jerk away the short stocky man's hands dug quickly into her shoulders, pressing them hard and flat down against the carpet. She could feel his hairy thighs pressing closer, and the probing of his enormous heatedly searching cock into her moist puckered anus increased. It felt soft and rubbery at first, and then it grew into a hard unresisting bluntness like a wedge being shoved into her tiny opening. A deep soul-shattering moan escaped from her agony-whitened lips at the deep searing pain as the tightly resisting nether ring gave before the unyielding pressure and the round head of his cock popped inside with a jerk.
"Aaaaaaaagh," Jill groaned piteously.
It was too big... it was just too much! The enormous blunt invasion of his cock pressed steadily forward, and great waves of pain rippled outward from it through every fiber of her being. She groaned in anguish as he thrust cruelly onward, filling her backside with his rapidly expanding thickness. Time became meaningless and the captive young brunette seemed to be caught in an eternity of excruciating agony. Jill was afraid to move for fear of bringing more pain to it, and her head bent in tearful submission. Her eyes widened as his constantly pressing hardness increased the torture until suddenly she felt the coarse hair of his loins smack heavily into the softness of her cruelly stretched buttocks. The giant trembling shaft was buried to the hilt!
Johnson, muttering obscenities under his breath, suddenly jumped up. "Turn her over, goddamn it!" he fairly shouted, standing away from the couch beside Randi, who was still kneeling lewdly on the carpet in front of Jill's head.
The brunette groaned as Sam's stone-hard cock nudged against the farthest depths of her stretched anal hole, securing her firmly. Then his hand opened under her pain-tautened abdomen and pulling, he dragged her backwards. She came to rest, lewdly splayed out with her back against his stomach, her squirming young buttocks on his massively throbbing cock like a pig on a giant roasting spit.
Johnson fell onto her defenselessly trapped body immediately. He positioned himself between her wide-stretched legs and shoved them harshly even further apart. In the next second, he had his huge, impatiently pulsating penis in his hand, and, skinning back the thick foreskin, guided it directly into the tight clasping channel of her moistly lubricated pussy.
"Nooooo," she groaned. "You're hurting me!" Her protests ended in a gurgle as the grey-eyed man viciously rammed forward with one mighty thrust that buried his long hardness deep up into the quivering depths of her belly, joining Sam's cock sunk to the hilt in her rectum. She could feel the enormous shafts throbbing side by side with only a thin membrane separating them. And then, as if by some secret signal, they began fucking into her, thrusting up with long hard lunges that threatened to tear her apart. They fell into a mutual rhythm, buffeting her cock-stuffed body between them as though she were a rag doll. She grunted in pain and tried to tear herself from between them, but her muffled groans and whimpers seemed merely to incite them to smack their naked bodies against her with rapidly increasing force. The impaled young brunette could feel Johnson's cock pulling tiny ridges of her clasping vaginal flesh out with the base of his cock as he withdrew for another vicious lunge inside, and the same was true of Borden's heatedly pulsating penis thrusting in and out of her rectum.
She screamed and then groaned again, no longer caring about anything except to end the pain. But the sound echoed through the room unheeded, until she realized that no one was going to help her, and then her piteous pleas diminished to a single low whine. There was no one in the world; all that existed was the excruciating torture of her anus from the cock behind and the large muscularly built man's cruel thrusts from above that shoved her even harder down on the invading hot poker of flesh below.
She quieted momentarily when she felt Randi's hand begin to stroke her long black hair. Her whines and whimpers became joined by soft mewls of pleasure as the blonde finger-fucked herself in lewd obscene rhythm to the girl's depraved impalement.
And then the impossible happened! Jill had sunk into a dazed half unconscious state, her inner sinews relaxing from sheer exhaustion, when she found the pain decreasing. She discovered it didn't hurt so much if she didn't try to fight it... when she became certain there would be no more pain; she actually began to enjoy it. It was a strange kind of masochistic joy, brought on by the helplessness of her position and the obscene thought of being used by two men at once while her girl friend watched. But that didn't seem to be anything to be guilty about after all the pain she had suffered. She moved her hips slightly and found that the motion didn't hurt, then began a slow undulation with greater force as she gained confidence, causing a lewd thrill to course through her entire lower body. She began to move backward to meet the upthrust of Borden's long hard cock plunging into her from behind, and then rotated upwards again to receive the whole length of Gary Johnson's massively heated penis ramming into her voracious vaginal cavern. Her buttocks moved in slow sensuous circles between the two men, and her voluptuously naked young body began to twist and writhe in a wild abandon.
"Ooooooh," she heard Randi's voice from beside her, "fuck her. Yesssss, screw it to her!"
Randi's brain reeled with lewd delight at the vision of her roommate being plundered by two men at once. She had never dreamed that watching another woman getting it like this would turn her on as much as it did; the thought of making Jill lick her cunt while Gary fucked into her pussy and still another battered brutally into her rectum stirred her loins, and the blonde worked her finger harder and harder up and down the moistly glistening cuntal slit.
Jill felt her girl friend's hand caressing her sensitively upraised breasts as they brushed against Gary's chest as he fucked into her cunt from above. She turned her head and peered over his shoulder and saw the blonde's face just above her own.
"Yesssss, Randi. Come, put your vagina next to my mouth," she crooned, wrestling the upper part of her body slightly out from between the two men and tilting her head eagerly to the side so that her mouth faced directly into the blonde "vee" of Randi's loins.
She wet her lips as her roommate came closer and rolled over on one hip so that her warmly perfumed cuntal mound was only inches away. Randi reached toward her and clamped her hands harshly on the sides of Jill's head, her fingers twisting painfully in the brunette's hair at the same time. She sensed her girl friend's excitement and it made her rock her hips that much harder between the two men. Oh God, she thought, this was the ultimate in pleasure that anyone could experience. All the desires that were repressed were now going to be simultaneously fulfilled as she was plundered by the three of them at her every orifice.
But her thoughts were cut off as the palms of Randi's tenderly working hands pressed into her cheeks and her head was pulled sideways until her lips brushed over the softness of the pubic mound that gyrated in lesbianic eagerness against her face. It felt soft, moist and warm from Randi's fingering of moments before. Yes, Jill had wanted to kiss Randi down there the evening she'd asked her to give her a backrub, and now it would be done, completing the strange circle of lust that was both shameful and excruciatingly pleasurable. Randi's hands pressed Jill's face warmly into her secret feminine parts, and the skewered little brunette could feel the tiny erect nerve of her roommate's clitoris brush wantonly against her lips.
"Mmmmmmmm," she mewled and immediately flicked her tongue from her mouth, circling the tip against the moist hair-lined slit. It tasted deliciously tangy and warm, like nothing she'd ever experienced before, and Jill recalled the sensation of Johnson's cock which had pumped its lewd sperm into her mouth as an obscene male counterpart to the tantalizing aroma of Randi's pussy.
The two men below her, excited by the blonde's unexpected participation in the group rape of the young secretary, began to increase the force of their mighty thrusts into her tightly clasping cunt and rectum. They lunged into her with deep strokes, their eyes focused on the third actor in the lascivious spectacle of unbridled lust, watching Jill's mouth and tongue suck and mewl around the blonde's wildly rotating cunt. To their lust-glazed eyes, Randi's pussy seemed to dance over Jill's face, her moist pink pussy lips fusing and then parting only to slide once more over her open working mouth like a separate being with a salacious mind of its own.
"Yesssss, Jill honey, lick my cunt, suck it, stick your tongue into my pussy," the blonde girl cried hysterically, her hair flashing in a stream of silvery-whiteness over Jill's brunette tresses in a lurid contrast of black and white.
Then suddenly, as they watched through lust-dimmed eyes, Randi jerked her cunt hard up and down, while Jill thrust her working tongue through the moistly clasping lips to the blonde's hot churning vagina. Her eyes rolling in sexual delirium, Randi began undulating her roundly plunging buttocks in a tight figure "8" pattern, her writhing cunt choking off the girl's spasmodic gasps for breath.
"Shit, suck me, suck me, you fucking cunt!" Randi screamed mindlessly down at the totally impaled brunette.
A low moan of heathen delight erupted from Jill's lips as the blonde's loins buffeted furiously against her face, straining her neck backward in a quivering bow that had the resilient spring of a rubber band. "Aaaaagh... ooohhhhh," Jill coughed at the obscene picture of her self-inflicted humiliation.
"Grooooooobbbbbaaaaaaaool," Randi cried from above, her orgasm flashing crimson across her contorted face. Her pussy mound smacked in a frenzy up against Jill's wetly sucking lips while her throes of release shook her breasts and thighs as though she had been struck by a sudden avenging bolt of lightning.
Jill was close to cumming now too, and she wildly sought out her climax as she continued her now uncontrollable gyrations on the two rapidly expanding cocks fucking into her. She was going out of her mind now. The thought of Randi screwing her pussy into her own helpless, lewdly sucking mouth while the men fucked her cunt and rectum was just too much. They felt too good as they pumped their hotly throbbing shafts in and out of her young contorting belly... she had to cum now! Nothing else would do!
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she chanted, her face contorted in an unrecognizable mask of wild abandoned passion.
Borden and Johnson felt her two passages opening around them and warm gushes of wet hot liquid flooding around their furiously pistoning cocks. They thrust faster, digging deep, deep inside her, feeling the ecstatically aroused young brunette jerk between them several times, the muscles of her frantically heaving pelvis working and sucking at the two cocks embedded up inside her belly as though trying to milk them dry. Her breath came in short desperate gasps as she felt them thrust deeply again, their hot twin jets of sperm shooting from the tips of their wildly ejaculating cocks into her grateful belly. Their juices mingled deep down inside her in a wet pool of abandoned passion that Jill never before had known could exist.
The muscles of her drained exhausted body gave way abruptly, and her limbs fell obscenely out to the sides of the sweat-soaked carpet. Jill lay still, her naked back flat on Borden's chest, and Johnson's spent body splayed over her own.
Her heart pounded as though it would burst, and she panted deeply for breath several moments, sinking into a half-conscious daze of joy and satiation. The obscene picture they must have made, the two men and the woman covering her sperm-drenched naked body -- arms and legs all entangled -- ran through her head and only increased her lewd pleasure.
She was vaguely aware of Randi standing up, and then felt Johnson shift his weight from on top of her. Her eyes focused on tiny pinpoints of light that fluttered in the dazed path of her vision up toward the ceiling.
"Welcome to the club," she heard the blonde's voice from behind her.
Johnson said something that was inaudible, and she heard Borden groan from beneath her. She had the feeling that her mind had been detached from her body and was drifting in some indeterminate space above herself, peering down at her naked, ravished form, and laughing cruelly at the strange new person she'd become. It was a feeling she knew she would experience again because she wanted it to happen again. She had no intention of changing. Nor could she conceive of giving up something which seemed more valuable than the last shreds of her morality... a morality that now seemed more elusive than the sounds of traffic floating up from the narrow confines of the New York streets below.
CHAPTER SEVEN
In mid-December Jill was promoted from her secretarial position to an assistant editor at Femme Magazine. She knew that her cooperation with Johnson and the two other editors had something to do with it, but managed to stifle that knowledge and carry on at her job as though there hadn't been anything wrong with what she'd been doing at company parties during the past few months. Actually, she enjoyed giving herself to men she'd hardly met before, even though she knew going to bed with them represented a form of prostitution. Her favors were well-received by various businessmen -- and occasionally women -- who came to town to transact deals with the magazine over advertising copy, and she was appreciated by the management because of this.
She had learned a considerable amount about the magazine publishing business, and had become a fair copy editor besides. If she hadn't learned as much about the literary side of publishing as she'd originally anticipated, she had gained some insight into the human motivations that propelled important business transactions and which controlled company policy. It all had to do with sex, the elemental bond that was inevitably fused to power on a larger scale than she'd ever imagined.
Whatever remnants of her earlier view of sex as a gentle reverent act between two loving partners had been erased by her new hardened view of the world. Sex to Jill Marlin was power, and power meant the ability to manipulate people as she wished. Randi had learned that and had passed the information along to her apprentice in innumerable ways. The voluptuous blonde and the petite, devilishly pretty brunette had grown strangely similar since Jill had moved into the West 63rd Street apartment. They were still poles apart as far as superficial appearances were concerned, but Jill's style of dressing, the manner in which she combed her long jet-black hair, and the way she carried herself... with a new sexy lilt and swing to her buttocks... was bringing the two women inexorably closer together.
But as their identities merged into two seductive complimentary images of sensuous beauty, an inevitable conflict arose between Jill and Randi. Both wanted promotion more than the good wishes of the other, and each girl was willing to go to any extreme to get it. And so, when Jill received the news from Johnson on a cold blustery day in early December that she was being promoted to a position equal to Randi's status as assistant editor, the blonde was noticeably disturbed.
"I can't see why he did that after you've only been working for the company for three months," Randi said to Jill that evening. They were sitting in the living room of their apartment having after dinner drinks, and already the alcohol seemed to have gone to the young blonde's head.
"It shouldn't bother you," Jill replied to her roommate seated across the couch from her, "after all, I'm not moving in on your territory."
"Jealousy has nothing to do with it," Randi gulped on her drink. "I just wonder what on earth got into Johnson."
"Maybe he thinks I can do the job," Jill said, feeling her passions aroused.
"What job? You mean bedding down with visiting executives or editing copy?"
"You know what I mean," Jill's face crimsoned.
"Not really," Randi's eyes flashed. "All I can think of is something that had to do with... screwing!"
"I wouldn't make reckless accusations, if I were you," Jill replied angrily, setting her drink on the coffee table. "You've been known to do the same!"
Randi stood up and began pacing in front of the young brunette.
"At least I'm competent as an editor," she said bitterly. "All you're good for is a quick lay."
"Perhaps you should be reminded who I learned it from," Jill finished her drink. "That kind of thing doesn't come naturally."
"It did for you," Randi laughed, her voice high pitched now. "I remember the first afternoon we all did it together... you, Gary, Sam, and me. You should have seen yourself moving that sweet little ass!"
"God, you're vicious!" Jill cringed back on the couch.
"I'm only looking out for my own interests," Randi's voice had softened. "There's nothing wrong with that."
"I suppose not." Jill got up from the couch and went to the bar to make herself another drink. "But don't bring me into it."
"I can't help it. I'm scared." Randi came up beside her at the small bar. "I'm afraid... God, I'm frightened to death I'll lose my job!"
"What do you mean 'lose your job'?" Jill turned to her voluptuous roommate. "You're doing fine at the company. There's no reason in the world they'd let you go."
"I saw a memorandum on Gary's desk yesterday." Randi's face was pale and her voice trembled. "It was from Kinsby. He asked Gary for a complete report on my work and a resume on what I've been doing to improve the image of the company."
"That's strange!" Jill refilled her glass with gin and soda. "Why would he do that?"
"You tell me." Randi shrugged. "Do you know Kinsby? Has anybody you know ever met Wilbur Kinsby?"
Jill laughed. "I saw a picture of him once. That first night with Gary at the company party."
"Gary has no idea what he looks like," Randi said in a mocking voice. "All he gets from Kinsby are phone calls and memorandums, like the one he received yesterday."
It was, in fact, true that no one at Femme Magazine had been introduced to its publisher, nor did anyone have the slightest idea why Wilbur Kinsby chose to wield his influence from an Olympian distance rather than working directly with his employees. Even Gary Johnson, the chief editor, was in the dark as to the publisher's real identity, and communicated with the shadowy figure through messages sent to him by Kinsby's personal secretary, Donna Wills.
There were several theories floating around the office explaining Kinsby's reasons for remaining anonymous. Some said he had never existed and was merely a function of Gary Johnson's bizarre imagination -- that Johnson was actually the publisher masquerading as chief editor. Others conjectured Kinsby was a composite of several men who were the directors of the company; while a few clung to the belief that Wilbur Kinsby had some desperate flaw in his past -- or perhaps a disfigured face he was afraid to show to his employees for fear of losing his power and influence over their actions.
That evening a week before Christmas, as she sat with Randi in the living room of their New York apartment, it abruptly became clear to Jill that Kinsby used his employee's weaknesses -- their sexual hang-ups and their unruly ambitions -- to further his own ends. How else could the monthly orgies be explained? What other reason for instructing Johnson to have a memorandum sent concerning Randi's social contributions to the company? And then there was the business of promotions, which Jill had to admit were arbitrary rather than based on real merit. If she had been given a new editorial position at Femme Magazine, it was true, as Randy had said earlier, that it had been granted for her prowess in bed and not because of her ability to edit advertising copy.
Jill said good night to Randi and went into her bedroom, undressed, and lay down to sleep. But sleep didn't come, the conversation of moments before played back through her mind with all its open fear, accompanied by Randi's frenzy. She felt guilty for moving in on her blonde roommate's territory, and confused; and she tried to blot out these thoughts by thinking about something pleasant, thinking about sex. She recalled the last time she'd made love to a man as though trying to enter through the threshold of sleep into the warm embrace of a dream...
Randi and Gary had brought an important executive from a client company up to the apartment. After a leisurely dinner, they'd had drinks, turned down the lights, and she and the man, an older gentleman with a receding hairline and a large bushy mustache, had settled down on the couch. There had been a few basic preliminaries... Jill couldn't make love without them... and after awhile she had been playing with the man's lust-swollen cock. His name was Jimmy Kulik, she recalled now as her hand slipped between her thighs and began rubbing gently at her pussy mound.
She'd unzipped the man's fly and pulled the giant red-fleshed penis from his pants and had stroked it openly, lovingly before thrusting his warmly throbbing cock into her mouth and starting to suck it. Within moments, the four of them -- Gary and Randi, Jill and the executive -- had undressed and were sprawled out on the living room floor. Gary had followed Jill's lead and had moved his head down between Randi's spread thighs, running his wetly quivering tongue up and down between the blonde girl's legs. While Jill had sucked on Jimmy's blood-engorged penis, she had watched Gary circle his tongue over her roommate's ecstatically writhing pubic mound. The young brunette had begun sucking harder when she saw her boss dart his tongue to the tiny bud of Randi's erect little clitoris and then plunge the extended forefinger of one hand into the open receptacle of her moistly glistening cunt.
Eventually the four of them had moved into Randi's bedroom where they had continued their communal love-making. Exclamations of salacious delight had echoed through the room, transforming the almost peaceful air of the chamber into a sex-charged atmosphere of abandoned squeals and groans, the four nakedly twisting bodies writhing closer and closer to one another, until the two couples had literally fused into one orgiastic union that jolted them all by its intensity.
Now, as Jill drifted into an erotic sleep, the recollection of sucking on the stranger's eagerly throbbing cock while both Randi and Gary did lewd things to her moistly pulsating cunt merged into new dream-images. She was in a completely white circular room with pillows of bright colors placed along the smooth curving walls. From a small opening at the top of a glass-domed ceiling a shaft of light, more like a pencil line of illumination, shown against her wet glistening pussy mound, bringing warm excitations of pleasure throbbing through her impatiently upraised loins. In her dream, the young brunette felt as though she were caged. It seemed as if the walls of the strange oval structure were pushing against her from all sides, pulsating rhythmically with each passionate intake of her breath.
Suddenly, Jill awoke screaming, her head thrashing violently against the bedstead behind her. In the last instant of her dream, she thought she recalled someone looking down at her through the hole in the concave ceiling. A shadow flickered across her bedroom wall, rising from the floor until it was caught and dissolved in the soft gauziness of the window curtains.
CHAPTER EIGHT
During the week before Christmas several dramatic things happened at Femme Magazine. When Randi and Jill reported for work on Monday, the young blonde was called into Johnson's office for a conference, and three hours later she was standing at the threshold to Jill's cubicle with tears brimming in her eyes.
"Fired. They canned me all right." Her fingers jabbed the air and there was a strange white incandescence in her face. "Just before Christmas so I could spend the holidays looking for another job."
"I-I don't understand." Jill felt the full impact of her girl friend's tragedy fall upon her. "It just happened so suddenly. You had no idea!"
Randi Jordan daubed small streaks of mascara running with her tears from her cheeks. "God's avenging lightning!" she shrugged weakly. "I'm being punished for the naughty things I've done over the past three years."
"That's ridiculous," Jill couldn't help laughing. "You haven't done a thing Gary hasn't requested from you in the first place."
"Johnson says Kinsby thinks I'm obsolete," the girl shook her head slowly back and forth. "They're trying out a new image, and they want all their new women employees to conform to it. I just don't fit in. It's as simple as that."
That night Jill helped Randi pack and the next day she accompanied the girl to a hotel where she would stay until she found a new apartment. Femme Magazine had asked the brunette to move out of the company flat by the end of the month, but she preferred to leave immediately. There were too many unpleasant memories that went with the place which Randi wanted to erase and, if possible, begin life in New York fresh, as if she'd never seen Gary Johnson or Sam Borden.
That Tuesday afternoon, when Jill re-entered the magazine office after returning from the mid-town hotel where Randi was staying, she found a surprise awaiting her. Gary Johnson met the girl in her cubicle and laughed as she sat down at her desk.
"You're moving into Randi's office," he said in a funny, distant voice.
"What!" she slid back in her swivel chair, knocking an ashtray from her desk to the floor.
"Don't get excited. I didn't want Randi to know you were taking her job. Figured there was some tension there already."
"How did this happen? Why do I deserve this?" she said, unable to conceal the joy she felt even though it was at the expense of her former roommate.
"Another girl's coming into town to take your place. She'll be moving into the apartment just before Christmas. I'm sure as hell glad Randi got out when she did."
"Oh," she almost whispered. "That means the new girl will be moving into my old job."
"Exactly." Johnson stood in front of her desk. "I've got some more interesting news for you. Kinsby called late yesterday evening. He wants you to meet his chauffeur here tonight who will drive you out to Long Island for dinner at his place on Sands Point."
"Why me? That seems strange... " She wrinkled her pretty nose.
"It sure does," he said, looking past her out the window, "especially since none of us has ever met the gentleman."
"Yes," she gulped. "Very strange."
"You must have made quite a good impression on him."
"How?"
"He's seen you. He's got those goddamn closed circuit TV systems rigged all over the place."
"I'm sure you'll be interested in what he's like. I can't imagine what I'll say to him," she said.
"I don't think you'll have a chance to do too much talking." Johnson turned from the desk and went to the door. "Still, I'd like to know what happens."
It began snowing around four o'clock that afternoon, and by the time Jill came down from the office and stood waiting in the vestibule of the Lexington Avenue building, the tops of parked cars and the trees surrounding the mall were dusted with a light covering of whiteness. The flakes swirled and spiraled over the walk, forming a ghostly arc between the towering skyscrapers and making the passerby of the pavement appear as apparitions scurrying from the protection of one building to another.
At a few minutes after five o'clock a Cadillac limousine pulled up in front of the arcade that led onto the street and Jill hurried from the building and slid into the back seat of the car.
"Miss Marlin, I presume," the driver said in a brisk English accent.
The Cadillac pulled from the curb and began making its way through dense late-afternoon traffic. Snow fell more thickly now, and by the time they reached the Queens Mid-town tunnel several inches of the white stuff covered the road. They entered the Long Island Expressway and awhile later Jill could see the snow was several inches deeper on the suburban lawns bordering the white-ribboning highway. They turned off at the Shelter Rock Road exit, and twenty minutes later the limousine turned onto a gravel road that led into a secluded estate. Here, the snow lay heavily on the overhanging branches of tall oaks that rimmed the driveway in a long colonnade, and topped the eaves of the imposing Tudor-style mansion at the end of the drive like white icing on gingerbread.
The chauffeur escorted Jill into a high-ceilinged room at the front of the house and offered the pretty brunette a seat until Mr. Kinsby chose to see her. Within moments, a young woman dressed in a maid's uniform appeared and asked the girl what she would have to drink.
"Mr. Kinsby is anxious that you feel right at home," the woman said, bringing Jill a Scotch and soda which she set in a small tray on an end table beside the couch.
"I'll do just fine," Jill replied, trying not to sound nervous.
"If there's anything you need," the woman said as she disappeared down a corridor leading from the spacious room, "don't hesitate to call me."
The room was elegantly furnished and had high-beamed walls that reminded the Marlin girl of a hunting lodge. There was an elk's head mounted above the expansive fireplace, and a kind of small balcony encircled one side of the room. Everything was arranged with impeccable taste -- from the eighteenth century style paintings depicting hunting scenes down to the thick beige carpeting and matching crimson divan and armchair. Yet, Jill's general impression was one of disappointment; she had been expecting something flamboyant and outrageously modern to match the eccentric image in her mind of the reclusive publisher.
"How wonderful you could come this evening," she heard a hoarse male voice suddenly from behind her.
Jill turned on the couch and saw a smallish man standing by the foyer that led into the room. He was somewhat stooped over, and he limped faintly as he walked to the center of the carpet. There was nothing particularly notable about the man. Somewhere in his late fifties or early sixties, he looked like an average middle-aged businessman, dressed in a gray suit with matching gray tie. Jill tried to superimpose the face she saw with the remembered image of the man in the portrait she'd seen the first night with Gary at the company party, but she couldn't. There was something so completely unremarkable about him - mediocre, she thought -- that comparison, whatever it might have been worth, was impossible.
"I've heard some splendid things about you from Gary Johnson," Wilbur Kinsby said, "and I decided it was an absolute must to see you."
"Thank you," Jill smiled, laughing inside at how meek Wilbur Kinsby seemed. How perfectly ordinary! She thought. "I've been anxious to meet you as well."
"I must seem like a mystery man to most of you at the magazine, but my business interests are so extensive I have relatively little time. But I do have a few moments free for lovely young girls like yourself."
The young woman servant entered with a new tray of drinks, then moved silently across the carpeted floor, only to turn for a moment in front of the darkened rectangle of the rear corridor. Her momentary expression was waspish, and seemed to take in the entire sweep of the young brunette's curvaceous body with a rapid scan of her eyes.
"That will be all, Janice," Kinsby said, his face darkening. His eyes brightened as he turned to Jill. "Well, my dear, I suppose you wonder why I've asked you out here. I can imagine your young mind conjecturing away at what I've planned for the evening." Jill laughed. She was used to entertaining or being entertained by visiting businessmen in New York, so the publisher didn't alarm her. She even felt a vague disappointment at his subdued, almost restrained manners. She'd traveled a long way during the past four months from the shy small town girl she'd been, and had come to expect the unexpected, had anticipated something more fantastic than the meek little man standing before her this evening.
After they finished their drinks, the publisher showed her around the mansion. Each room was furnished and decorated in a style similar to the living room -- somberly, without flourish, as though Kinsby had deliberately kept things subdued. The older man still hadn't answered the question he'd posed to her concerning the reason he'd invited her out to Long Island, and she supposed there was no answer save for the fact that men of his isolated nature occasionally felt lonely, sometimes needed companionship.
"This room is my pride and joy," Kinsby's eyes twinkled as he issued the pretty brunette into a small dimly lit chamber. It took Jill a moment to adjust her eyes to the lighting, then she saw a strange machine-like contraption that was lowered from an upright stand over the bed.
"What on earth is that?" Jill pointed to the device.
"That, my dear," a ripple of lewd anticipation heightened the pitch of Kinsby's voice, "is why I asked you here this evening."
"I can't see it properly. It's too dark in here," she said, fascinated by the machine.
"It's the first time anyone has seen it. I had it hand made, especially for this occasion," he said mysteriously.
She sat down on the bed to get a closer look at the contraption, then jerked back when she saw the long thick rubber dildo fastened at the end of an aluminum arm.
"I think you get the idea," Kinsby's pupils grew sharp and pointed as he surveyed her lush young body sitting on the bed.
"I've heard about these things, but... " her voice trailed off as she saw the evil smile flickering across the publisher's face.
"But you never thought you would have the opportunity to experience one first hand!"
"Mr. Kinsby," she stood up from the bed, trembling suddenly at the thought of being laid out beneath the impaling device, "I think I ought to leave."
"You're welcome to go any time you wish," Kinsby smiled, his normally composed face suddenly contorted with obscene delight at the girl's predicament, "but remember your job. Remember it's snowing outside... " His eyes narrowed as they feasted on the full voluptuous curves of her breasts and the smooth rounded firmness of her buttocks and thighs beneath her tight microskirt.
Jill thought, I'd be a fool to leave now. It would mean everything I've worked for... But I don't know what he intends to do with me, nor if I could resist him in a struggle... he's small, but that really isn't the point.
"I always wanted to try out this lovely piece of handiwork on Randi, but I grew bored with her," his hand fell lightly on the smoothness of her shoulder.
"Randi... I thought she'd never met you! Jill exclaimed.
"Oh yes, she's been here. Several times. But I had to let the girl go. She just didn't entertain me any longer."
"And I suppose that's the way you judge most of your employees," she said.
"More or less."
Jill turned instinctively toward the door, but something inside her made her stop. She felt Wilbur's hand again on her shoulder and she turned around, the decision derived from her helplessness now final.
"All right, I'll let you do it. I'm not willing to lose my job, not yet," she said flatly.
"Then down on the bed," Kinsby grinned lewdly, "we'll begin at once."
She dropped onto the wide mattress beside her and looked at him.
"Not like that, my dear," he leered across the taut flatness of her stomach to the twin jutting peaks of her breasts, "take off your clothes." Kinsby watched as the beautiful young girl pulled off her tight cashmere sweater to expose her brassiere-less perfectly rounded breasts. Her warm glowing flesh seemed to catch the iridescent glow of the overhead light and reflect it back in softer tones. Her nipples were already erect -- whether from fear or from exposure to the air, he couldn't tell. Then she slid her tight-fitting microskirt down over the ivory smoothness of her buttocks and wriggled provocatively from her small white panties, setting all her clothes in a neat pile at the foot of the bed.
Kinsby stood back and took in the entire voluptuously curving length of the young brunette's body, studying the luscious contours of it as though he were a portrait artist surveying his naked model in mute appreciation. He noted the slight bulge of her mound of Venus nestled up softly between her legs, the subdued shading of her upraised thighs enunciating the curvature of her warm-fleshed legs. He could see the firmly rounded swell of her buttocks, and they appeared to him like ripely spherical fruits -- small melons, he thought with delight. Perfect, everything was absolutely perfect, and he could already feel his mind blazing, his heart pounding like a kettledrum in his chest as he adjusted the overhead machine so that the arm of the dildo was focused over her young pussy mound.
"Now, relax," he smiled, "at first it will be slightly painful, but then there will be the pleasure -- that should blot out everything."
Jill peered at the rubber phallus lowering toward her nakedly trembling body, noticing that it was sculpted as realistically as any penis she'd ever seen -- it was equipped with a huge set of balls that even had realistic hair growing on them. She groaned as she took in the entire size of it. Suddenly she wished she'd had more to drink; although the two drinks she'd had were powerful and had contained a substance that had put her into a strangely mellow mood, it just wasn't enough. The huge artificial cock was too big; it would rip her completely apart!
"How do you like it, my dear," he gloated as he manually directed the monstrous rubber head to a short distance from her silken-haired cuntal mound.
"Oh, God, please," she whimpered. "I can't take it. I can't take it."
"Nonsense, my dear. You haven't even tried it!"
"Oh, no, nooooo," Jill begged as Wilbur walked around the machine. In the mirror to the side of the bed she could see him adjusting the horrible instrument so that the phallus was directed at a forty-five degree angle toward her vaginal opening when he lowered it to a level even with her nakedly helpless loins.
"You'll like it, Jill, I promise you, there will be nothing unpleasant about it."
He took a pitcher from the bedside table, and Jill could see him pouring something into the rubber sac dangling from the huge menace of the penis. "Warm olive oil, Jill. Just like the hot cum which I can squirt into you any time with the control button in my hand. This controls the speed and depth of the machine." He held up a small box that looked like a television remote control box. It was connected by several long wires to the base of the machine.
"We can make it do anything we want with this," he smiled. "All you have to do is ask me when the times comes."
He dropped his hands to her thighs, rubbing his palms lewdly over the full rounded contours of them up to the fleshy hair-lined lips of her fearfully quivering young pussy. Her cunt still was not moist, and Jill clenched her teeth tightly together in fear that he was going to hurt her. Instead, he reached to the small table beside them and dug his fingers into a jar of vaseline. He gently swabbed the lubricating jelly the length of her narrow, pinkly glistening split, inserting an extended middle finger up into the warm clasping fleshiness of her pussy. He rotated the finger around and around, swabbing the vaseline deep into her sucking vaginal walls, preparing it for the obscene entry of the poised rubber cock on the piston-like shaft above.
"I thought they fucked you more than they apparently have," he smiled down. "By the time I had Randi she was much wider than you. But that's good."
Jill struggled to get up, her fear of her impalement and her humiliation at being handled by him this way, driving her in a spasmodic leap from the bed, but the flat of Kinsby's hand pushed her down again. She fell back on the mattress.
"That's more like it," the small middle-aged man chuckled, pulling the huge waiting phallus forward and down and pressing the giant rubbery head between the quivering fleshy lips of her hopelessly exposed vagina until it was poised for entry. Jill tried again to struggle forward, but this time the publisher slapped his hand viciously across her face. "Down!" he shouted.
She felt the hard rubber tip of the artificial cock nudging against her sensitive vaseline-lubricated cuntal lips, but now she couldn't move! Her fear was paralyzing her! Then, momentarily, the machine whirled and the penis was a few inches above her cuntal mound; it hung there menacingly.
Chuckling, Kinsby sank into the soft chair beside the bed. It was located just below Jill and the machine so that he could have a perfect view of the skewering on her young, helplessly waiting cunt. He held the control box tightly in his sweating palms, anxious to begin the depraved ravishment of the new young woman working for his magazine. What a delightful new playmate! He had watched her for four months now as she progressed from a virginal Mid-western farm girl into an accomplished sensuous woman; and right about now, he believed, she was ready for the final stage of her loss of innocence. Such small trifles gave Wilbur Kinsby pleasure.
Jill lay in hopeless defection on the bed, feeling waves of shame and humiliation wash over her like some evil tide of foreboding. She gritted her teeth, steeling herself to the ordeal ahead, at the same time cursing herself for her own evil ambition which had led her into the morass of sensuality that had as its final crushing blow her subservience to a machine. Looking down she could see Wilbur, small and red-faced, smiling anxiously from the chair. In the mirror above the bed she could see her own lewdly splayed-out body, her flesh appearing more naked than she'd ever witnessed it to be before, waiting, as though in sacrifice, to be fucked by the inhuman monster poised mechanically over her.
"Now we begin," he said in a thin, squeaky voice, and switched on a button from the remote control box.
She heard a gentle whirr, and saw the thick long rubbery cock begin lowering toward her exposed and upraised vagina. Suddenly, the bed seemed to rise as the machine-cock descended. She closed her eyes to ward off the sensation of first harsh contact, and a second later felt the head of the rubbery penis begin a gentle up and down movement along the warm outer edges of her quivering cunt, staying teasingly inside the moistly tight split of her pussy seconds before pulling out once again.
God, oh Goooooood Goooooood, It's human, the penis is alive!
She was caught unaware by the gentle probing of the machine. She had geared her mind to expect something painful and harsh, but this -- God, it was different, it was unexpected and subtle and she felt violent shudders coursing heatedly along her nerves, their shattering intensity increased a hundred times by the rigidity of the position she had fallen into. Her legs were splayed out on either side of her in order to ease its entrance and her resiliency smooth buttocks uplifted slightly from the bed. Her toes curled beneath the tantalizing soft attack and she groaned, crying like a tortured saint as she prayed her body would not be hurt -- she feared the pain more than the shameful humiliation.
"You will like this," he said, "I know you inside and out. I have watched you for months, though you didn't know it."
Small beads of perspiration were breaking on his forehead as his goal was in sight. Kinsby knew he would break her will eventually, and his eyes were alert for every slight, febrile twitch of her body for the first step of her weakness.
Jill sobbed as he increased the speed of the teasing machine. She could feel the tips of her ripely full breasts tingling with unwanted pleasure as the artificial penis bored with obscene technical accuracy into her rapidly moistening vaginal opening, the rush of erotic thrills surging into her belly like puffs of steam through a heat conduit. The long urgently pressing cock probing at the portal of her young "Nooooo," Jill's resistance ebbed with the exquisite maddening pleasure being lavished on her helplessly naked form. But she couldn't bring herself to suffer this final indignation, of begging him to defile her further, even though she wanted it, even though her body demanded the teasing rod to be driven even deeper into her cunt to quench the aching hunger that throbbed like licking flames through her abdomen.
"Remember your job, my dear," his voice rose in harmony with the whirring of the machine, "remember Randi... " She wanted the beautifully vibrating penis to begin moving back and forth, fucking into her, yet she knew now, with a shudder of hot recognition, that to ask him to fuck her would signal her final whoredom and Kinsby's subjugation of another of his employees to his will.
"Say it, ask me to fuck you," he whispered, his face reddening and his hands trembling in expectation in his lap as he stared at the lust-crazed, wantonly writhing female who had been an innocent young virgin only four months before.
Jill knew with these last words that the rubbery instrument away. The cords on her neck strained out and she flung her long flowing raven-black hair from side to side as she felt the rampaging phallus sinking even deeper into her hideously stretched vagina, and she fell back hopelessly on her tensed shoulder blades. "Stop! Goddddddd, please STOP!" her eyes gaped like flashing quarters at Kinsby in the chair.
But the small grinning man was master and torturer and played on her nakedly thrashing body as a harpsichordist would lovingly caress the keyboard of his instrument, producing dissonant sounds of pain and harmonic strains of pleasure at will; the sonata of passion progressed in a wild surge of sounds issuing from the girl's throat and wetly sluicing pussy. She tried to push up at the thickly plunging penis, unconsciously wanting more, her hands coursing over the rose-tipped nipples of her own hungrily quivering breasts, tweaking them now that the love-juices of her cunt had begun to flow moistly down her frantically trembling thighs.
"Tell me, love, tell me what you want," the taunting red face peered down at her, moving his chair closer so that he could reach out and caress her smoothly squirming young buttocks.
with as he wished, his for the taking -- but the tyrant publisher in the chair wanted more -- he had waited too long to get this little bitch he had transformed from the angelic prude she had been into a seductive, erotically sensuous woman through the device of the planned seductions made by Gary and Randi -- and now, he wanted to watch her final capitulation.
Through a second sense, Jill fathomed Wilbur Kinsby's thoughts, understood in an instant of revelation that it had been the publisher's fateful hand that had guided her through the eventful autumn in New York City. The pleasurable sensations now erupting with erotic fury through her throbbing cock-filled loins communicated this, as though her body had a consciousness of its own. My God, Jill thought, what's happening to me? WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME? I can't help it, I can't help it!
He flicked the button again, sending more forceful pulsations through the artificial penis embedded so thickly in her clasping cuntal depths.
"Oooooooh," she groaned helplessly.
Jill tried to arch upward and wedge the away. Kinsby pressed another button and a warm jet of hot olive oil spurted from the tip of the spongy head, lubricating her heatedly impaled passage. The pain eased momentarily, but the lewd penetration increased, and she felt as if someone were levering her thighs apart to split her tormented body all the way up to her head. The huge unbending cock throbbed on, not going any deeper, but patiently expanding the moist warm cuntal flesh clinging tightly against it. The obscene semblance of a penis thrust teasingly forward a centimeter, seeming to stay at the epicenter of her pussy channel for an eternity, sending nerve-tingling flutters of wildly exciting sensation up into her taut quivering belly. The pain was gradually passing as the obscene pleasure inexorably increased; a fire was burning in her that she couldn't control, and in the end it was the very thought of her helplessness that weakened her.
Jill didn't want to feel good, she had no desire for the pain to be transformed into pleasure... she merely wanted the cessation of the irritation; but the excited tremor of a moan escaped her tortured lips, betraying her submission to her tormentor. She was his to do vagina suddenly flicked forward on a signal from the box in Kinsby's hand, and the naked brunette gasped from the unexpected intrusion spearing hotly into her fearfully cringing cunt. She screamed for the publisher to stop, but he didn't. Now she could feel her firm full thighs involuntarily parting, her tightly resisting pussy somehow resisting less... and less... until the huge cock-head bored into the vaseline-lubricated outer lips of her cunt. Her moist vaginal mouth felt on fire and she ached from head to toe from the cruel position she'd been forced into, but she could only moan for Kinsby's mercy.
But it didn't come.
"God, wait, no -- you're hurting... meee!" The thick rubbery phallus halted momentarily. She heard Wilbur's breath expel in a rapid, sinister wheeze... and then... "See," he said, cooing at the outstretched form of the naked brunette, "I told you it wouldn't hurt!"
"But it does, " she groaned, "it's too -- bigggggg!"
"Let it fuck you. Oh, shit, let it fuck you!" The warmly parting walls of her vagina felt as though they were being pulled and stretched publisher had designed the machine, had constructed the evil pleasure-giving device to overcome his impotency, and in this perverted act of love he became the machine! He made it do the things he couldn't; he was sick, as was everyone she had met and everything she had done during the past weeks to gain prestige at the company -- from sucking on anonymous cocks to lowering herself over older women's loins to give them the wild forbidden delights of lesbianic pleasure... and now she was paying for it, with the revelation that she, like Randi, also was expendable, while the machine would go on and on and on...
"Say it!" Kinsby squealed from beside her. "Oooooohhhhhh, it feels gooooood!"
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No, goooo onnnnnn!" she mewled, her lips baring back over the gleaming whiteness of her teeth.
"Tell me what you want!"
"Give it to me, ram that cock into me!" she demanded.
"No, not like that," he hissed, "you know what I mean."
"Shit, Christ, fuck me, fuck, fuck, FUCK MY GODDAMN CUNT," the words exploded like hot bullets from her mouth.
Wilbur Kinsby pressed the button with the glee of conquest, sending the huge, hotly plunging artificial penis racing up into her liquid clasping depths, dragging the soft clinging ridges of her cunt before it like a rampaging bulldozer until it was buried more than half a foot deep in her wildly pulsating cunt. He stopped it for a moment at the apex where the giant, realistic rubbery head throbbed harmoniously against her sensitive cervix.
Jill's mouth opened and closed in unexpected torment, until she gradually became accustomed to the fleshy trunk-like shaft embedded deep in her wetly clasping pussy. She could feel the huge plastic balls brushing heavily against her anus beneath her wide-stretched thighs, and a strange masochistic joy rippled ominously through her. Oh God! It was just like being fucked by a man, only with this inhuman machine she didn't have to worry about hurt feelings or luncheon dates or anything except her own pleasure. It was heavenly! Even the pain was erotically pleasurable, and she waved her frantically pumping buttocks down against the mattress, bringing her full rounded moons up again to suck in the entire length of the plastic cock into her shamelessly aroused pussy.
"Is it good, do you like it?" Kinsby panted, now digging his nails into her spasmodically quivering buttocks which were raised in anxious supplication from the mattress.
He throbbed the monstrously thick cock-shaft again.
"Ooooooo, yessssss, do that, do it again, it's good, soooooo goooooood!"
"Better than Gary? Better than Sam?" he coughed, slowing the rhythmically throbbing cock to hear her final admission of depraved subjugation.
Jill suddenly moaned at the reminder of the men who had initiated her into this sinister debauched situation. She just couldn't bring herself to say it now... there were still some vestiges of pride left in her whored young body.
"Do you want me to stop?" he taunted lewdly.
"No, oh, go on!"
"Then you say it. Tell me I'm better than all of the fucks you've had, all of them!"
"Ohhhhh, yesssss," she coughed, "you're much better... better than Sam, better than Gary or Randi!"
Kinsby grinned an obscene grin of victory. He had her now. She wanted it with every sinew of her tortured being, and by God he was going to give it to her. He flicked several switches on the box and the bed started an up and down motion, throwing her roundly gyrating buttocks up off the mattress and then down again with a lewd obscene thump. The arm connected to the motor began a back and forth motion in time to the bed, the long thick cock fucking mechanically in and out of her stretched, hotly impaled cunt in thrusts that traveled its full length. A moist sluicing sound of intercourse resounded through the small room and the lewd slap of the artificial balls against her white upturned buttocks joined it melodiously. Wilbur licked his lips hungrily as he watched the reddish skin of her tight little vagina draw back each time on the outstroke of the large artificial penis, clasping and sucking salaciously at the shaft as if it didn't want to come out and then disappearing inside again with each powerful forward thrust.
Jill groaned out her submission to the lewd sensations racing like quicksilver through her mechanically-ravished body. Her toes curled tightly against the soles of her feet as she was bucked up and down, sucked and fucked relentlessly like a helpless slave by the great, rhythmically stroking machine. Kinsby held the control box in his hands as he knelt over her, coursing the palms of his hands over the sensitive flesh of her wantonly writhing young body.
Jill suddenly felt the rising tide of orgasm beginning deep in her tautly quivering little belly. The very hopelessness of her position and the debasing ravishment of her body sent rippling fingers of fire dancing through the tattered nerve ends of her skin.
Suddenly she gave a low piteous moan and brought her hands down to press the thick, wildly vibrating rubber dildo hard into her belly, screwing her gyrating ass-cheeks up tight against the round hard rubber ring that kept it from going deeper. She opened her mouth wide and let out a scream of animal anguish that signified her approaching orgasm.
Kinsby could see the clenching and unclenching white cheeks of her ass begin a strong hard spasming against the invading cock-shaft as though it were vainly trying to nibble at the alien insertion. Small gushes of her lust-juices seeped out hotly around the plunging edges of the vibrating penis and ran in glistening pearl-like streams down the smooth wide-stretched crevice of her buttocks. The tiny puckered anus clenched and opened below in the rivuleting moistness of her passion in tempo with the final grunts of her soul-rending climax.
And then the machine came! In wild spurts of hot olive oil, she felt it spewing out its load inside her, and she discovered herself screaming, "Yes... yes, oh my darling, cum! Cum in me!"
Gradually the oscillations of the machine subsided. Jill could see Kinsby standing up and moving around the room, his formerly impassioned face now strangely calm, almost languid... as though he were thoroughly satiated.
Jill saw her own reflection in the mirror and turned away, dropping her face into a pillow. The despair she experienced was complete as the little man curtly told her to put on her clothes. As she dressed quietly her mind tried to fathom the enormity of the strange act she had just committed, but she found it was impossible.
Kinsby suddenly left the room and she was alone. She finished dressing and returned to the living room where the chauffeur was waiting to drive her back to New York.
"Ready, Miss?" the tall uniformed man looked at her. "Is there anything wrong, Miss?"
"No, nothing," she said.
They walked out through a side entrance to the house into the snow that was shimmering brightly beneath a full moon in the cloudless December sky. For a moment, as the long black Cadillac limousine pulled out of the driveway onto the main road, her mind was clear, and it seemed as though she saw the events leading up to tonight in sharp detail, in perspective. Tomorrow or the next day, the new girl would be in the office. It wouldn't be long until she, too, would be initiated into a way of life that was already becoming intolerable to Jill Marlin.
And there would be others who would follow her, just as Jill had followed Randi... while the machine would remain, master of them all.
